AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well it's been awhile, hasn't it? Things have definitely happened on my end and I apologize for making you all wait so long. Hopefully I haven't lost you all, but if I have I'm genuinely sad.

This chapter is by far the shortest I've ever published but I'm just getting back into the spin of things and half of this was written like a year ago so I figured it would do for a return. Hopefully you guys sorta like it and the next one will be better. So bascially expect some semi regular updates to return. Emmy's story is definitely not dead my loves.

And thank you to all of you that reviewed, fav'd, alerted and everything else in my absence. You're the inspiration behind my return. I love you all.

VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH

This feature is rated T for obscene language and mild gore, but mostly language.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Emily Louise, Zane, Travis, Missouri and Grady Sinclair, Monty, Macy, Ray and Bo. Things that are unfamiliar and original in plot also belong to me. Anything recognizable does not, but to its respective owners.

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
'Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me we'll be alright

Ghosts That We Knew by Mumford & Sons

Eighteen

My heart hammered painfully against my ribs and my vision turned blurry around the edges as I stared unwaveringly at the man on the porch. I couldn't believe what was happening. The thoughts to understand and recognize it as actually happening seemed to be stuck somewhere else as I stared wide eyed at the man

Was this really happening? Was the person standing in front of me with a confused expression really here? Was I finally going mad? Was months of living in this hell finally getting to my sanity? I hoped not. I hoped that the man in front of me was really here and that when I blinked he wouldn't disappear into thin air. I hoped that this all wasn't just some dream.

"I'll always come back for you. The only thing that will stop me is death. Okay? I'll never break another promise to you, Emmy-boo."

"Hey, Em, are you alright?" Glenn asked with a frown from the other side of T-Dog effectively snapping me out of the revere I had found myself falling into. We were at a complete halt ten or so feet away from the porch. Zorro was eyeing me wearily and Missouri was giving me the same look of disdainful confusion.

Why was Missouri giving me that same look? Why wasn't he rushing towards me and swooping me up into a hug? Why wasn't he bouncing up and down in joy? Why wasn't he doing anything? He was standing there like a goddamn lump on a log. He was looking at me like I was a complete stranger. Like I wasn't his baby sister. Like we didn't share the same blood. Like - like he didn't even know who I was…

"Em?" Glenn asked again, his tone more worried this time as my grip slackened on T-Dog and his full weight shifted to the small delivery boy.

"Missouri?" I asked softly, my eyes locked on the all too familiar figure. His dark hair was longer now and he looked downright foreign in the backwoods bumpkin clothes he was wearing but there was no doubt in my mind that the man standing in front of me was Missouri Sinclair.

"I – I don't know who that is." He answered with a frown. "My name's George."

George? Who the bloody fuck was George?

"Let's get your friend inside." Zorro said, interrupting us as she rushed down off of the porch and over to us. She brushed me aside firmly and took ahold of T-Dog's side before she and Glenn dragged the man up the front steps and inside the house. Glenn sent me another questioning look before the front screen slammed behind them. I was too confused myself to even begin to start answering his questions.

"Are you alright?" Missouri – er – George asked carefully as he approached the steps.

Was I alright? Was I alright? What kind of shit question was that? Of course I wasn't bloody alright! I finally found my fucking brother and here he was seven ways past fucked in the head.

"I'm fine." I muttered finally.

"Maybe Hershel should have a look at you too…" He said trailing of uncertainly. The look on his face was of concern. It was a face I'd seen on more than one occasion. It was the face he wore the first time he found me drinking peach wine coolers in the Mustang with the five time senior from school. It was the look I had seen when I had voiced my thoughts on enlisting into the Marines. It was the look I had seen on that computer screen all those weeks ago.

"So, uh, who's Missouri?" He asked, his lips pressed tightly together once he had finished. By the look on his face, the name was just as foreign to him as George was to me. It was funny in a twisted way. It was highly ironic too. I didn't know what was worse; him not knowing me or me never finding him. Either way the stakes were high.

"You are." I answered evenly. I had half a mind to wonder if I was going about this in the right way. If he couldn't remember than something must have happened and that meant there was probably a better way to tell him 'Hey, you're my big brother, Missouri. So, man the fuck up and remember already goddammit.'

"You know me? You know who I am?" He asked in a hurry. I couldn't tell if he was excited at the prospect or worried.

"Your name is Missouri Sinclair. You're the second oldest of five, you hate honey and are allergic to citrus. When you told me you were leaving for college, I pushed you out of the tree house, that's where you got that scar on your chin."

He swallowed loudly as his eyes remained locked on mine, a hand reaching up to rub at the mentioned scar. I searched and searched for any sign of recognition in those hazel pools, but I found none. He was as much of a stranger to me as Zorro was. I could've told him I was fucking God and he wouldn't know the difference.

"What's your name?" He asked softly.

"Emily Louise. But everyone calls me Emmy." I answered forcing myself to smile.

"Emmy." He said, testing the name out. It sounded just as foreign to me coming from his mouth as it did to him.

"George!"

Our eyes snapped to the door at the man's voice. It sounded urgent enough and I hoped he'd run off to assist whoever it came from. He looked torn for a second between staying where he was and rushing off to assist. I figured it was hell inside with T-Dog's little problem than God only knew how bad Carl was. I prayed he'd think of that too. I didn't want to stand here with a man that shouldn't have been a stranger in some awkward silence.

"You can come inside." He informed me quickly as he rushed to the door. "Can we talk later?" He continued as he sent me tight lipped smile, I nodded my head quietly at him before he disappeared inside.

I breathed a sigh of relief as my shoulders slumped forward. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted to cry or scream or do something. I didn't even know what the right reaction for this moment was. This was too fucked up of a situation for me to even…

This just wasn't right. I wasn't supposed to find Missouri only to find that Missouri wasn't really Missouri but George. What kind of fucked up name was George? He didn't even look like a George for fuck's sake! Who even gave him that goddamn name? Better yet; how the fuck had he even gotten to where he was?

How was I even supposed to get him to remember? Was there a handbook somewhere for this kind of thing? 'Cause if there was, that'd be real fucking handy.

"Hey." Glenn muttered sheepishly from behind me. I sat on the front steps. I hadn't dared to go inside for the past thirty minutes. I didn't want to know what was going on inside. A brother that didn't know me was hanging around somewhere in there and God only knows what else, somehow that just didn't appeal to me.

"What do you want?" I asked coarsely. I didn't want to leave that dark place I had went to just yet; reality was harsh enough without everything else that had just been dumped into my lap. I knew Glenn was going to try to cheer me up, he was a puppy in that sense. I figured he had to have been one in a past life, 'cause the skills he had weren't something that just came naturally. He was a pep pill and I wanted him to go away.

"Do you want to talk?" He questioned carefully, plopping down on the worn wood right beside me. Our shoulders brushed slightly as he settled, in annoyance I shifted further away from him. I wanted quiet time. Quiet time did not happen when Glenn was around, the only thing that happened was the opposite of quiet time and well, that shit didn't breed good ideas and I needed a real good idea at this point.

"About?"

"How do you know George?" Glenn asked. He was being more straight to the point than I had expected to be honest. I had expected him to beat around the bush until I finally gave in and spilled the entire can of beans right into his lap. That's what he wanted me to do. He wanted to be my shoulder to cry on, my surrogate brother. But why did I need one of those when I had found Missouri?

Oh. That's right. Missouri doesn't remember fucking shit.

"He's my brother." I say it so softly that I don't even think he hears me at first, the silence that follows in pregnant and stifling. I feel like I can't breathe. I just admitted to an actual person who knew something that my brother was just a few feet away. That somehow made it more real. It hadn't actually been happening until that moment. It had been shaded and dulled, just a shadow of a feeling, but once I admitted it to Glenn, it slammed into my chest harder than I thought possible. Literally knocking the air right out of me it left me gasping beside him. He didn't move to try and help me, he merely sat there quietly and patted my knee.

"Are you sure?" He's not doubting me or questioning my abilities, the concern in his voice is obvious and I struggle to take no offence to it. I know he just means well and that even I found myself asking the same thing. My Aunt Nora used to say everyone had their own twin walking this Earth, so why couldn't the man inside be merely just that?

Because, a voice in my head chided me, it is him.

"It's him." I uttered, staring blankly out across the yellowed field of grass.

It seems nice here and reminds me of sweeter times on a ranch in Dallas. It reminded me of moments my brothers had on leave and weekends when it was just me and daddy corralling cattle. It reminded me of a time I wish I could go back to with all my heart; before the dead walked and before Missouri had become George.

"He'll remember." Glenn informed me. Though I didn't quite hear him, the longer I sat there and stared at nothing the more dulled my hearing became. I idly acknowledged the numb feeling tingling up into my fingers and toes but thought nothing of it as Glenn hummed on. "Who wouldn't remember you, Em? He'll remember."

"How's T-Dog?" I asked, my own voice sounding muffled and distorted to my ears. A frown creased my face as I moved a hand up to rub at them, the loss of feeling in my hands left me feeling funnier as I moved them back to my lap, stretching the fingers out as far as they could go. What was going on?

The next words that left Glenn's mouth, well I wasn't even sure if they were words. They sounded muffled and jumbled to my ears. I wanted to ask him to repeat himself, but instead of the words coming out of my mouth, all I could do was suck in a breath of air before my world tipped to the side.

I could hear voices, unfamiliar ones all around me. They sounded concerned but my defenses bristled none the less. I couldn't even remember where I was in my half consciousness so how could I tell if I was among friends or not?

"Are you awake there, sweetheart?"

My heart nearly stopped at the question I knew was being directed at me, unless there was another woman layed out somewhere in the room which I somehow doubted it.

The longer I took to decide on how to react to the foreign mans voice, the more everything came back to me. I was on a farm because T-Dog's arm was infected, on this farm was my brother - not that he knew that though - and I must have had a panic attack or passed out from shock, either way I was still in hell. Just a different level.

"I am." I finally answered, letting my eyes pop open. An older man was standing over me, he looked nice enough. His face was worn with age and his lips were in some kind of half smile. It looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to be welcoming to me or not. I noted with distaste that he and George were dressed the same.

"You had us mighty worried."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I propped myself up. I was in some kind of bedroom decorated in yellow and flowers, it made me want to gag. I felt like I was in the prairie.

"It's just been crazy." I muttered not looking to divulge anything to the stranger. He seemed more interested than he really should be, I figured it was because of him. They seemed rather attached to this George who really was my Missouri.

Clearing his throat, he clasped his hands in front of him and continued to stare me down. I guessed I was supposed to feel intimidated. I didn't.

"George was saying that you knew who he was."

I could see he was defensive about the subject. I didn't know what angle he was coming from about the matter but either way I didn't like it. Just because he was all friendly with my brother and Rick did not mean I trusted an inch of him. Sure he had helped Missouri it looked like but that meant squat to me as much as I appreciated my big brother in one piece.

"I don't see how that's any of your concern." I replied curtly, rising from the bed in one swift movement. I didn't want to burn the bridge that ultimately led to my brother but at the same time I didn't want to pay the toll to the troll either.

"George is my concern."

"That's a shame because his name is Missouri, and he's mine."

His eyes narrowed on me and my smart ass response. I had a feeling I wouldn't be so popular here. Well hopefully the stay wouldn't be long anyway, I thought sardonically.

"How do you know George?"

Oh well shit just got real. How the fuck did he know him anyway? How did my brother even get here? I had half a mind to ask if he was the reason my brother didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. But common sense reminded me that we were alone in this room and well, I didn't know what this man would do or where I really was. So fuck me basically.

"He's my brother. I've been looking for him." I admitted begrudgingly. It really was none of his business. I didn't ask him how he knew Zorro and he shouldn't have asked me how I knew Missouri. Was there nothing sacred in this hell anymore?

"Do you have proof?"

Say what? Well fuck you.

"I don't need any goddamn proof. We're blood." I snapped, taking some kind of sick pleasure as the older man flinched as I took the good lords name in vain. Well fuck him too, I thought, it's not like he was any big help in this world.

"He had a few men after him, I'm just looking out for his safety."

I frowned at the older man's admission, it seemed noble enough and sort of made sense if I wanted to be logical. Maybe that was why Missouri didn't remember, someone had attacked him.

"I'd die for my brother, you don't have to worry about me killing him."

His face softened slightly, "Then my name's Hershel and welcome to my farm."

"Emily." I returned, nodding my head slightly in his direction. All I wanted was to be let out of this damn room now. Seemed like we were on the same page or something.

"Your brother has an extreme case of amnesia, Emily. I know you want your brother back but it's going to take time. You can't be curt with him." Looks like someone was all for being straight to the point, eh?

"Just don't expect me to leave him here with you."