Disclaimer: ONE AND ONLY! I do not own The Walking Dead. I'm only writing this for entertainment, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Title: Crosshairs

Summary: Post "Judge, Jury, & Executioner"- When Daryl has the idea to return to the highway and retrieve the supplies the group left for Sophia, he never expects to run into an ex-military officer and the three children she seeks to protect. With walkers wandering close to the Greene farm, however, the group of survivors needs all the help it can get. Sacrifices will have to be made and dangerous secrets will have to be revealed if the human race is to remain the dominant species on the planet.

Note: Events will primarily be based off of TV show canon, though it will be manipulated to fit my plan, with some influences from the comics. This story also has the potential to go completely AU at any time at the whim of my muse.

Warning: This story is based off of The Walking Dead, which, as we all know, contains violence, language, gore, sexual content, and other mature themes. Therefore, this story will not be all sunshine and rainbows and fluff. While I am keeping the rating at T for now, I may bump it to M further on, either of my own volition or if one of you awesome readers suggests it. If you're easily offended, be warned.

Note on Timeline: Since The Walking Dead premiered in 2010, that is the year in which I'm having this story take place. All dates are adjusted accordingly, and the plot (mostly) flows according to the timeline on the Walking Dead Wiki, though there are instances where I've made adjustments based on my own observation or to fit the plot.

A/N: Hello! While not my first foray into fanfiction, this is my first The Walking Dead fanfic. As of October 3, 2013, all of the chapters have been replaced with updated versions. If you're just tuning in, I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. If you're a returning reader, I apologize from being gone so long & hope you enjoy this updated version! I feel the characters are portrayed more consistently in character than in the previous version & hope you agree! Please review and tell me what you think, and don't be afraid to toss some ideas my way! :)

Lauren

Chapter One

A slight, casual breeze played through the trees clothed in the brilliance of early autumn, its near playfulness in deep contrast with the group it watched on the ground below. It was the largest group of people the breeze had passed in a while, a mix of man and woman, young and old. The group was gathered around four piles of dirt, one freshly turned. A single man stood out from the rest of the group, tall and solemn. Those around him stood in silent reverence, others choked with emotion, some with silent tears coursing their cheeks. He himself did not go unaffected by the same feelings of sorrow, at times pausing to regain his voice before continuing in his heartfelt eulogy.

"Dale could get under your skin," he said clearly. "He sure got under mine. 'Cause he wasn't afraid to say exactly what he thought— how he felt. That kind of honesty is rare. And brave. Whenever I'd make a decision," he continued, turning to meet the gazes of his mournful listeners, "I'd look at Dale and he'd be lookin' back at me with that look he had— we've all seen it one time or another. I couldn't always read him, but he could read us. He saw people for who they were. He knew things about us. The truth. Who we really are. In the end he was talkin' 'bout losin' our humanity. He said this group is broken. Best way to honor him is to unbreak it. Set aside our differences and pull together. Stop feelin' sorry for ourselves and take control of our lives, our safety, our future. We're not broken. We're gonna prove him wrong. From now on, we're gonna do it his way. That is how we honor Dale."

If she'd known how the day would unfold, she thought later, she might have stayed asleep all day, refusing to rise and greet the day. As it were, however, the woman woke with a start from a dream she was most likely glad she couldn't remember, breathing heavily as alertness shook the chains of grogginess from her mind and body. A thin sheen of sweat coated her skin, making the fleece lining of her blanket stick to her exposed arms and legs, strands of damp hair clinging to high cheeks and a wide forehead. Damn Georgia humidity, she mentally grumbled as she peeled her blanket away, exposing herself to the cool air waiting outside her warm cocoon. You'd think after nearly four years I'd be used to it by now. She then paused her inward grumbles as she set about crawling around and over the four figures sharing her space. Continuing her mental musings once she was certain her companions remained undisturbed, the woman released herself from the vehicle she'd been confined in for the night, inhaling deeply of the crisp fall air. It wasn't quite dawn yet, the stars still visible in the depths of the inky purple sky that swirled overhead, fading out of sight as the deep purple waned into pink touched with gold near the eastern horizon.

Sending a last glance at the sturdy vehicle she exited, her thoughts dwelling on the three still-slumbering occupants, the woman padded quietly into the nearby forest, her heavy boots scarcely making a sound as she sought out the small stream she'd discovered the night before. Sinking to her knees beside the clear, babbling brook, she splashed some of the cool water on her face and neck, rubbing the refreshing elixir down toned arms before standing and returning the way she'd come. She paused as her feet again met the asphalt road, catching the sky in its plethora of colors as the sun peeked just over the horizon. Remembering the legends from her childhood of the Sun and her jealousy, the woman raised her face to the gentle rays, eagerly soaking up their warmth. If there was one thing the woman would be grateful of in the months since the world had been cast into hell, it was that whichever god had forsaken the world had not taken the sun and its beauty with it when it had done so.

Returning to the day ahead, the woman climbed back into the vehicle she'd been at home in since long before the world had spiraled into chaos, casting a glance at her sleeping companions as she started the engine and set the truck in motion at a pace that would ensure maximum fuel efficiency. With the world in the state it was in, no one knew what each day would hold, but as the woman put the rising sun at her left shoulder, she was confident she could boldly face whatever awaited her on the horizon.

"Shane!" Rick called as everyone began to scatter from around the graves, remaining still beside the freshest pile of rock-rimmed dirt as a solid, brutish man separated from the others and approached.

"Yeah?" came the gruff reply.

"I want you to get a couple people together. Go through the pastures and get rid of any walkers you find." He caught the man's gaze and held it, trying to use his eyes to stress the importance this assignment held. "I don't want anyone else wanderin' into another situation like last night."

"Sure thing," Shane returned, immediately setting off to assemble his team while Rick moved back toward camp, where he knew their host, Hershel, had something he wished to discuss with the former police officer. Bending his head against the sun trying to blind him as it peeked over the two-story farmhouse's green roof, Rick Grimes focused on all he and his people needed to accomplish over the course of the day. It was much easier to hold chaos at bay when there was a direction in which to move.

"Good morning, sunshines!" the woman called cheerfully as she heard movement behind her, pulling herself from her inner musings and reaching over to turn her already-quiet music down further.

"Morning, Katy," came a groggy voice as a sandy-haired boy sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily as Katy watched him in the rearview mirror.

"I'm hungry! When are we gonna stop for breakfast?" came a higher-pitched voice as an even younger girl popped up beside the boy, a halo of golden curls bouncing around her head.

"You're always hungry, Abby!" the boy retorted, rolling his eyes as Katy returned her gaze to the highway crunching beneath her vehicle's tires.

"Well, it's breakfast time!" Abby defended, jutting her chin out as she snuggled a stuffed purple rabbit close to her chest. "And Brutus needs to go for a walk." A large German Shepherd raised his head from between the two children at the sound of his name, giving what seemed to be an affirmative 'yip,' his tongue lolling from his snout in the Georgia humidity.

"Shh, Brutus!" the boy immediately admonished. "You'll wake Brook up!" With a small whine that confirmed Brutus understood he was in trouble, if perhaps not understanding the exact words, the dog lowered his head, placing his paws over his snout.

"Alright," Katy ceded with a laugh, glancing at the children in the rearview mirror before returning her eyes to the highway. "We'll stop in about half an hour. I wanna get a few more miles behind us."

"Ugh, more canned fruit," the boy grumbled. "I wish we had some donuts."

"I promise, when we get back I won't make you eat canned fruit for at least a month," Katy pledged, raising her right hand to emphasize her sincerity. "I'm gonna make donuts, and chocolate chip pancakes, and we're gonna chow down 'til we can't possibly eat anymore."

"Pinky swears?" Abby asked, leaning over the driver's seat with her smallest finger extended. Of course, Katy thought. How could she possibly have thought a traditional pledge would be acceptable? She balled her upheld right hand, leaving only her pinky extended, letting Abby's smaller finger twist around it.

"Promise."

"It'll be tight," Rick said from beside Hershel, watching his people begin gathering their belongings in preparation to comply with Hershel's offer. "Fourteen people in one house?"

"Don't worry 'bout that," the white-haired patriarch returned. "With the swamp hardenin', the creek dryin' up…"

"And with fifty head of cattle on the property," a brunette identified as Hershel's daughter Maggie added, "we might as well be ringing the damn dinner bell."

"She's right," Hershel finished. "We shoulda moved you in a while ago."

"Alright," Rick said, accepting Hershel's offer and speaking loud enough for the whole group to hear over the sounds of their camp being packed up. "Let's move the vehicles near each of the doors facin' out toward the road. We'll post a lookout in the windmill and the barn loft. That'll give us sight-lines on both sides of the property." He then called to a large black man carrying a tub of belongings to a vehicle to be taken to the house they'd soon be calling home. "T-Dog, you take the perimeter around the house. Keep track of everyone comin' and goin'."

"What about standing guard?" the man replied.

"I need you and Daryl on double duty."

"I'll stock the basement with food and water," Hershel informed as T-Dog gave an affirmative and set to his assigned task. "Enough that we can survive down there a few days if need be."

"What about patrols?" piped a blonde woman.

"Let's get this area locked down first," Rick suggested. "After that, Shane will assign shifts while me and Daryl take Randall off-site and cut him loose."

"We back to that now?" Shane asked from his position leaning against an old blue pickup, his tone making it obvious that he wasn't keen on such a decision.

"It was the right plan the first time around," Rick asserted. "Poor execution."

"That's a slight understatement," Shane scoffed, remembering the 'poorly executed' plan that had nearly cost both Rick and Shane their lives.

"You don't agree." Heavy authority laced the smaller man's tone as he locked gazes with his friend. "This is what's happenin'. Swallow it. Move on."

"You know that Dale's death and the prisoner are two separate things, right?" Shane tried again. Seeing his former partner wasn't going to budge, Shane continued. "You wanna take Daryl as your wingman? Be my guest."

"Thank you," Rick said, hearing Shane give an affirmative before continuing on with everything he needed to get done. He decided it would definitely be a long, busy day.

What was meant to be a half hour hold on breakfast Katy had pushed to an hour and a half, ignoring the grumblings of her own stomach, before finding their way blocked by a sea of abandoned vehicles. Climbing out of the Humvee after changing from the shorts and tank top she'd slept in to her fatigue pants and a long-sleeved black shirt, Katy wandered to where the sandy-haired boy she knew as Luke attempted to convince a baby—edging more toward toddler-hood than infancy—to eat the mush he was offering. Three cans of fruit cocktail, two of them already empty and sitting by a can-opener, told Katy that he and Abby had already finished their meager breakfast while she'd changed clothes.

"How's our girl doin'?" Katy asked as she pulled on her leather bomber jacket and leaned down to lace her boots.

"Making a mess as always," Luke said, exasperation in his voice as the baby buckled into a carrier sitting on the trunk of a car spit up the oatmeal he'd just given her. "She doesn't like this much."

"I never cared much for oatmeal as a kid either," the woman replied with a chuckle. "Where's your sister?"

"Abby took Brutus for a walk," Luke said, pointing toward the mess of vehicles with the spoon he was using to feed Brooklyn. "They went down that way."

Knowing Abby was safe with the German Shepherd, Katy watched Luke attempt to feed his baby sister for a moment longer, wondering how the world had become so messed up as to a nine-year-old boy having to worry about keeping his sisters safe and providing for them when he should be worried about catching frogs and first crushes. "Let me finish this," she said after a moment, taking the spoon and bowl of hastily-mixed mush from Luke. "Why don't you go find your sister and check through some of these vehicles for anything we can use?"

With a nod, Luke handed over the meager breakfast before taking off at a run toward the multi-colored maze halting them in their tracks. "Luke?" The boy pulled up short as Katy's voice carried to him, looking back over his shoulder. "Keep your eyes peeled and signal if you hear anything." Luke nodded obediently and Katy watched him go with a small smile before turning back to the baby before her. "Watcha gotta be so stubborn for?" Katy said, her voice jumping an octave as she smiled widely at the content infant. "Finish off this atrocity and I'll share the good stuff with you."

It took several long minutes and a lot of coaxing to finish feeding the unenthusiastic infant, but Katy felt a sense of triumph as the last of the soupy greyish food went down the baby's throat. As Brooklynn gurgled happily in her carrier, Katy reached for the can-opener and the unopened can of fruit cocktail, eager for her own breakfast. The blue-eyed child beside her grinned and squealed as Katy spooned out some of the sweet syrup and shared as promised, causing the former soldier to smile warmly.

Once Katy finished her breakfast, she gathered together a few tools and set to digging through some of the vehicles nearby, keeping Brooklynn at her feet in the carrier as she dug through trunks and truck beds. Stepping up to a bronze Tahoe's back hatch some time later, the former soldier eyed the brightly-colored declaration of 'Jesus is my co-pilot' depicted on a bumper sticker. "How'd that work out for you?" she scoffed, glancing through the back window at the corpse planted in the SUV's driver's seat. She then focused on the door separating her from a potential motherlode of supplies, jimmying a screwdriver into the lock and popping it out of place so that she could reach the latch, grinning proudly to herself as she stuck her finger into the hole she'd made and heard the click of the door unlocking. Katy had just opened the back hatch and started digging through a suitcase of clothes when she caught the sound of her name. Turning as she heard quick, pounding footsteps rushing in her direction, she pulled her Beretta from its holster at her thigh as Luke and Abby approached at high speed. From the volume of their voices, Katy expected to see a herd of the infected stumbling after them, but found them alone aside from Brutus loping behind them.

"Hush!" Katy ordered as they approached and slowed to a stop, chests heaving. "You're gonna have every one of the infected in the country headin' this way, you keep that up!"

"But Katy!" Abby cried, grabbing the woman's hand, "We found something!"

It wasn't until a few hours later that Rick found himself planning his latest excursion, leaning over a map with the rough, crossbow-wielding man he'd come to know and respect, tracing the route he'd planned with Daryl listening attentively. Though he'd never admit it out loud, Rick had been surprised when the hang-up came from Shane selecting the gruff hunter to join his team tasked with surveying the property and ridding it of walkers. The former officer had somewhat callously expected Shane to hold a grudge against Daryl for the fact that Rick had chosen the hunter to accompany him on the trek to release Randall rather than his former partner, but Rick supposed Daryl's proficiency with the crossbow not currently slung between the man's shoulders and his ability to pick out a leaf that had been trod upon by a walker from the millions of others in the woods was an undeniable advantage.

"We'll take him out to Senoia," Rick pointed out to the man studying the map over his shoulder. "An hour there and an hour back. We might lose the light, but we'll be halfway back by then."

"And then this little pain in the ass will be a distant memory," Daryl added with a nod as he pushed off of the porch railing to stand upright. "Good riddance."

"Carol's putting together some provisions for him," Rick added as Daryl turned to lean back against the porch railing to face Rick. "Enough to last a few days."

"Speaking of provisions," Daryl began as a thought struck him and he reached toward the map, tracing their route. "We'll be passing within a mile of that highway where we left the supplies for Sophia. If we're heading past anyway, might as well see if they're still there. With fourteen of us, we need all the supplies we can get."

The hunter looked to Rick for approval and the former cop nodded as he folded up the map they'd laid out. "Yeah, you're right. No sense leavin' 'em out there. We can stop on our way out. That way we aren't out lookin' for 'em in the dark." It was Daryl's turn to nod, and a thought struck Rick as he surveyed the hunter's quiet agreement. "That thing you did last night"—

Rick trailed off, tapping the edge of the map in his hand against the porch railing. The events he spoke of were still so fresh…it was difficult to put the gratitude he wished to convey into words. The hunter, however, seemed to understand, looking up at Rick with those sharp blue eyes that the cop had noticed drank in everything around him in silent observance. "Ain't no reason you should do all the heavy liftin'."

The expression was so simple Rick could think of no response. All the decisions he'd had to make since he'd woke in that hospital weighed on him so heavily that some days, when things got so very low, he nearly wished he'd never awakened and so never had to deal with this crazy world in which they now lived. People were counting on him to keep them safe—keep them alive, and lately it seemed all he did was fail. Yet, here was Daryl offering to take some of that load, and Rick could feel nothing but appreciation for the hunter, finding himself only able to nod until both his and Daryl's attention turned to the silver hatchback coming up the Greene driveway.

"So you good with all this?" Rick asked, gesturing toward Daryl with the map and feeling the need to give the hunter a chance to take back what he'd just said and bow out.

"I don't see us trading haymakers on the side of the road," Daryl answered with a chuckle, flooring Rick once again, as he'd told no one about the fight between him and Shane on their last expedition to free Randall. He supposed it was nothing for the hunter to see the bruises both Rick & Shane had returned with and connect the dots. "Nobody'd win that fight."

Rick gave a soft, amused laugh before both men noted Shane's approach. "I'm gonna go take a piss," Daryl decided, once again reading the situation perfectly and conveniently making himself scarce. Rick sighed as he eyed the man pacing toward him that he wasn't sure should be labeled 'friend' or 'foe'. Either way, he was certain he wasn't in the mood for this conversation.

"What does it say?" Abby asked innocently, clinging to Katy's free hand where they stood before the car the children had found emblazoned with a message and with a few meager provisions.

"See if you can figure it out," Katy suggested, setting Brooklyn's carrier down on the ground so she could help Abby climb on the front bumper of the car to clearly see the message painted on the window.

"Sss…ah…puh…hi…uh," Abby said slowly, repeating the sounds a little faster. "Sop-hi-uh? What's that?"

"It's 'So-fee-uh,' dum-dum," Luke said before Katy could answer.

"Don't call me a dum-dum, jerk-face!" Abby returned saucily.

"Luke! Don't be mean to your sister," Katy admonished before a full insult war could break out. "You were learning once, too. Abby!" The six-year-old at least had the sense to look guilty as Katy caught her with her tongue stuck out at her older brother.

"Sorry, Katy," the children said in unison as Katy pulled Abby down from the Mustang's bumper.

"It says, 'Sophia stay here we will come every day,'" Luke read. "What does that mean? Does it mean there are people here?"

Indecision shined clear on Katy's face as she judged what to tell the eager children before her. The message and supplies screamed danger in her wary mind, cautionary bells echoing through her brain. The provisions and note meant there were survivors nearby, and that screamed an intense warning to Katy. Meanwhile, the fact that the survivors who'd left the supplies cared enough to part with them for whoever this 'Sophia' person was told her that maybe these survivors weren't so bad as most she'd come across in the time since the world had gone to hell. A sense of duty and responsibility lurked in the shadows of Katy's reasoning, but she quashed it down quickly. No. That part of her was gone. Dead and buried while everything else dead was rising. If there was one thing of which Katy was certain now that the world had ended, it was that the rules of the old world no longer applied. People were dangerous, and too much of a flight risk when she had others to look out for. If these people really were going to come, she wanted to be out of the area long before they arrived.

"It means we're leaving," Katy finally said. "Luke, you and your sister take Brooklynn and these supplies back to the Humvee and get everything ready to leave. You know the drill. I'm gonna try to find a way through all this." With a nod, Luke tucked a blanket and flashlight into Brooklynn's carrier before bear-hugging the carrier as Abby grabbed the food and water handed to her by her guardian.

Katy then crept through the mass of vehicles, pulling her trusted Beretta from its holster before returning it to its spot on her thigh after a moment, instead pulling out her field knife. If she ran into any of the infected, they needed to be disposed of quietly. Setting her sights on her goal, Katy stalked through the mass of cars before her, her knife at the ready, until finally reaching a red and white semi. Stepping up to the abandoned truck's cab, she returned the blade in her hand to its sheath before clamoring up the side of the truck, hooking one leg over the side view mirror after getting a secure hold on the truck's roof. Her muscles protested against the atypical strain, but Katy grit her teeth as she hoisted herself atop the truck roof, climbing to her feet and using the height advantage to survey the traffic around her. What she saw was not encouraging.

The highway was blocked for what looked to be miles, with barely enough room to walk between many of the crowded vehicles, and some rested on the median and in the ditch, as if some people had looked to bypass the traffic snarl before whatever tragedy that had occurred had spurned them to abandon their vehicles. All of these people must have been heading to Benning, she thought as she surveyed the jam. Soberly shaking her head, she climbed down and decided it'd probably be easier and faster to backtrack around the gridlock to continue on their way. Nodding to herself in approval of that plan, she moved to return to the Humvee, thinking through her mental log as to where she'd last stored her collection of maps, before freezing as she heard a long, low whistle from the direction of her vehicle.

Immediately recognizing the sound as the signal she'd taught Luke to inform her of someone approaching, Katy mumbled a curse to herself, sending a long, low whistle followed by three short, sharp tweets to tell Luke to hide and that she was on her way. Pulling her knife from its sheath on her belt once again as she jogged through the congestion of vehicles, Katy spied a light blue, older model pick-up approaching the blockade. A sickening ball roiling in her gut as a single thought—people—charged through her mind, the brunette put away her knife and pulled her Beretta from its holster. The nine millimeter pistol would be more effective against the living, particularly if she were to end up facing multiple targets. Making sure the safety was off as she quickly approached the Humvee, Katy crept toward the visitor's vehicle, virtually invisible among the abandoned cars.

"Hey, man, you see that?" Daryl asked as they approached the jammed section of highway where they'd left supplies for Sophia.

Rick looked to where Daryl was pointing to see a military Humvee, complete with a turret on top, parked at the beginning of the maze of cars, its sand color standing out among the blacks, whites, and silvers of the other vehicles clogging the highway. "I don't remember that being here last time," Rick mused.

"'Cause it wasn't," Daryl drawled, loading a bolt in his crossbow as Rick pulled up near the Humvee. "You go get the supplies. I'm gonna check this out." Rick nodded as he cut the vehicle's engine, Daryl bailing out immediately. Rick followed suit, breaking toward where they'd left the supplies as Daryl approached the Humvee, crossbow drawn and ready to fire.

Cautiously stepping toward the vehicle with his crossbow at the ready, the first thing Daryl noticed was that it didn't look disused at all. Several bags and boxes full to bursting with dry goods and other survival gear rested in a pile by the Humvee's back tire, and the exhaust pipe still retained a bit of heat as he bent and placed a hand to the metal. The Humvee was windowless around the back, and thick, dark-tinted windows kept the hunter from seeing anything inside the vehicle. Curiosity and suspicion clawing at Daryl's insides, the man walked all the way around the vehicle, searching for any distinguishing marks before reaching for the handle to pop open the back hatch, freezing as he heard the familiar sliding clicks of a handgun being cocked.

"I'm gonna have to ask you to step away from that hatch."

A/N: Again, thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave a review &/or some constructive criticism! :)

Lauren