Like it Was Before

The fish fry is just right, just what we needed.
"I missed this," Jacqui sighs and I lift my coffee mug of beer smuggled in by Morales.
"You're telling me," I'm tucked into Shane's side as we eat (and drink) our fill, him teasing me about breading the fish while everyone else begins to wax philosophical about time-I'd been unable to make the breading stick to the fish, a bitter disappointment but Shane is making me laugh about it now rendering it worth the fight. Time, even as they discuss it is suspended briefly there in the fire light something I'll look back on in near wonder. "I have to pee!" I glance over at Amy the loudmouth, still smiling.
She's stood up and is looking down at her older sister with bemused exasperation.
"Jeez, try and be discreet around here..." I leap up to spare my friend some embarrassment.
"With you there, Aims."
Actually, I had to pee anyhow, so this works in my favor.
"You women," Shane laughs, "Always goin' in pairs."
"Shut up," I nudge him then shove my plate into his hands, weary to lay it down next to the mug I've currently nestled in the dirt. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Lori watching us closely, something I pointedly ignore as I follow Amy into the RV, laughing full and loud when she emerges from the tiny bathroom, scowling. "We're out of toilet paper."
I can't help my giggles-entertainment does not come easily these days. I reach over without comment and tear off a paper towel before taking my turn in the cubicle making her laugh in turn, smoothing out her features. "Classy, Van!"
"Hey," I call through the accordion door to her, "At least I won't be the one rocking yellow jeans!"
I miss her crossing her eyes at me childishly through the door before she heads back out to the group, already yelling.
"We're out of toilet paper?" she repeats to everyone gathered, breaking me up all over again. It's the put-upon tone she's adopted, as if this were the worst thing that had happened since corpses became animated. Maybe it was, but I still found this entire thing way amusing. Blame it on the beer, or the campfire, or my newlywed status; I was happy. Still laughing, I open my mouth to call out something smart-ass to her when Amy begins to scream, choking the laughter in my throat.
I fly out of the bathroom towards the sound, belt unbuckled and there they are. Walkers, everywhere.
"Savannah, stay put!" Shane yells, lifting his shotgun as I fall to my knees over Amy, who has been bitten. "Oh no, Amy, I-what can I do?"
I'm babbling as Andrea reaches us, pushing me roughly out of her way, something I don't take personally at all. Her sister is dying.
It's this harsh thought that helps bring everything into focus for me. Amy is pretty much dead already, having begun living on borrowed time the moment she'd been bit, and we can't lose anyone else tonight, not if we can help it. I stumble to my feet as Lori, Carol and Jess Morales reach the RV with the children, helping usher them inside, sequestering the kids into the back bedroom.
"Everything's going to be fine,"
I lie to them as their Mothers scramble around, looking for first aid supplies as if Amy isn't already beyond such niceties. "You just keep this door shut nice and tight, okay? Until one of the adults tells you to come out." They nod at me, four solemn dirty faces aged beyond their years and I shut the flimsy door on them before going to see who else needed help while one of our own lay outside, bleeding out into the dirt. This feels like nothing but a highly realistic nightmare-everything was fine, close to perfect, five minutes ago-how could it have all gone to hell so quickly? We deserved a break, dammit.
"Savannah, get everyone inside," Shane huffs, running past me breaking my reverie in a blur of khaki and I unthinkingly do as he says, reaching out to Jim, steadying him as he woozily climbs into the RV and I duck, hearing gunshots directly behind us. The cavalry has arrived, but far too late.
All of the adults were loaded in the RV and I look to Shane, lost.
I'm making a point of not looking anywhere else, at Amy beneath me.
"What do I do now?" I ask miserably now that my task is complete. "How do I help?"
One more shot's fired and before my question can be answered, it's over, all of the walkers have been put down, Lori and Carl, crying, all but flying towards Rick who has materialized out of nowhere.
I'm doing my own weeping I realize as Shane pulls me close to him. I have my hands pressed tight over my face while he does his patented Shane Walsh shh'ing and I wonder how much more of this world I can bear, absolutely heartbroken. Have I mentioned I hate this? Hate today, hate all of it.

xx

Everyone, save for Andrea and Jim sleep piled into the RV, something that is just as cramped and uncomfortable as it sounds, but not at all unpleasant. I can't imagine the isolation of just Shane and I in a tent after such a night, especially after what's happened to Ed.
I shudder to think of waking from a nap, or rousing from a pout to one of those creatures clawing at you. I purposely turn my mind away from this, thinking instead of Andrea outside, unable (or unwilling) to leave her sister's side, and Jim above us, keeping watch.
The RV itself seems like a living thing, lying there in the dark while so many people around us talking in their sleep or snore or toss and turn, unable to get comfortable, the rocking from this similar to a big beast drawing a breath. There is a whispered conversation going on closer to the drivers alcove, but I can't make much of it out; I'm not even sure who's talking as I join the restless masses, rolling from my back onto my side, practically draping myself over Shane's lanky form in the process.
The metal from his 22 charm is pressing into my cheek, freezing cold, just as I am, but thankfully Shane is as warm as always, warm and awake, judging by the way his arm tightens around my shoulders.
"You okay?" I ask, barely even making my voice loud enough to be heard by the man lying next to me. Still, the other conversation halts for a moment as if whomever it was is foolishly surprised at not being the only ones awake. Shane waits for their discourse to pick back up before cupping the back of my head, answering me. "I keep thinkin'. 'Bout the woods, how I put you in danger like that. What if those walkers had gone west? Gotten here earlier? What if we'd run into them? I never shoulda gambled your life like that, Savannah, and I'm damn sorry."
I'm dumbfounded, speechless. Of all the things he could have said, this was not what I was expecting.
"But they didn't. You didn't," I tell him, groping blindly in the near pitch blackness to touch Shane's face with affection. "All of this is hypothetical, right? But the fact is, the woods saved us and I don't regret it for a second." Shane fetches a sigh deep in his chest, my head rising and falling with it before speaking next and breaking my heart. "I do."
Even worse, when I roll back away from him, he lets me. Doesn't make a single move to bring me back into his warmth and I fall asleep untouched and crying as quietly and unobtrusively as possible, for everything I had lost so far and would surely continue to lose in the upcoming days.

xx

Everyone's up early the next morning, emerging from our glorified sardine can, more or less intact, eager to begin (and end) the worst day we'd ever had as a group, the morale at a new low.
Andrea's still sitting with Amy, an area I flatly refuse to go anywhere near, almost ashamed when Lori is brave enough to do what I am not. I know I'm being a coward, but can't bring myself to care.
I can't face Andrea or Shane this morning, it seems, both for different but equally valid reasons.
So I settle on going to Glenn and Daryl who have been working for a while re-building our fire pit and disposing of the walkers. I don't know what else to do. "Can I have a pair of gloves?"
I ask, voice mostly rusty from the emotional night we'd all just endured. Glenn looks surprised, but hands me a pair of gardening gloves that dwarf my hands. I don't bother making conversation, just bend over and heft a set of skinny legs, helping Daryl heave yet another walker into oblivion. The stench is horrendous, but it's not anything I can change by complaining. We're on our third or fourth body, already I'm losing count, when Andrea interrupts us by pulling her gun on Rick.