Wishes for Family

The last thing Sirius remembers is Harry's devastated face. Wide green eyes (so much like Lily) and James' face (just a little uncanny). His heart aches for just a split second; he was going to take Harry and they were going to be a family (what they both lost) but as he arches back and floats into the wispy arms of the Veil of Death, Sirius surrenders to resting.

(Padfoot cannot wait to reunite with Mooney and Prongs)

He isn't aware of anything. Eyes forced closed so tightly, his head starts to ache. No wind, no sound, not even the beat of his own heart. No air and no life. There is only the blackness behind his clenched lids. Thoughts raced about, unable to move, unable to breathe. He feels calm and panicked at once, trying to move, yet remaining still. He wonders if he is instead floating in place. He wonders if he is dead. He wonders if this is hell.

Ice cold fingers sweep down his chest, bony and thin. They dig in, painless but he jerks anyway and something is taken. Something important. Memories sift away into the void, leaving him raw and blank and nothing.

Who am I?

I don't know.

I'm missing something…

What is it?

… I don't know…

—

Harry, I'm your Godfather.

Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs presents…

Well… I'd like for you to come live with me.

Love you, Pup.

"Sirius?" Harry croaks disbelievingly.

The man smiles wetly, more tears streaming down as he reaches out and cups Harry's cheek, "Yeah, Pup. I'm completely serious."

A well of emotions swell up, threatening to overwhelm Harry for the first time in a lifetime. Tears are suddenly overflowing, tracking down the sides of his face. He clumsily brings his hand up and grabs the hand on his cheek, eyes fluttering as he savours the feeling of warm skin under his. Words are lost as he stares up at Sirius' face, re-memorizing all the lines, planes and dips. He can't believe he forgot - didn't recognize his own Godfather and hungrily takes in all the details.

"How?" He asks, almost disbelieving but he’s here, Harry can feel him.

Sirius opens his mouth but something loud crashes nearby. Sirius looks up at something, "Fuck. We’re going to need to try this later, Pup."

Harry tries to angle his head up but a flare of deep, worrying pain pulls in his spine, "What?"

"Infected," Sirius replies in a tight voice, his hands now pulling at Harry's shirt. The teen hisses and gasps weakly as he's pulled up and Sirius accidentally drops him in panic. Harry groans at the unintended rough treatment. "Shit! I'm so sorry!"

"Sir-" Sirius goes to stand. Harry gasps out, hands weakly scrabbling at his Godfather - he's alive! How?! - to keep him from going away. "Wait-"

"Hey!" The beautiful woman Harry spied earlier appears, Dray tucked into her neck. "We need to go!"

Sirius looks up before Harry can reply, "He's too hurt to move."

"Hey-" Harry tries again, trying to swallow down the thickness in his throat.

"Michonne! Let’s go!" A familiar voice sounds from nearby. The woman, Michonne, snaps her head up, eyes intense. The other quickly clarifies, "We're going to have live company right away!"

"Fuck!" Sirius hisses, glancing around almost desperately.

"Can he really not be moved?" Michonne asks as she draws her wicked looking sword.

"Shut up!" Harry finally snaps out, gaining almost instant silence from the continued stream of chatter. "Don't worry about the Biters! I'm fine, just pick me up, Sirius!"

"Wait-who is that?"

"But-you're hurt-" Sirius tries to plead, his rising desperation shifting to deep concern.

"Trust me," Harry widens his eyes pleadingly, trying to convey that it really is okay.

"Some kid and guy," Michonne replies, a familiar blonde woman appearing in Harry's line of sight.

"Come on!" Amy urges, looking far more wired than a moment ago. She glances at Harry and then double takes, eyes widening, "Harry?"

Glancing about once more, Sirius suddenly snarls as he gets his hands under Harry's body and picks him up, gaining a loud grunt of pain. His spine hurts, so bad but he can move his fingers and toes. He'll be fine.

"Oh my God, what's wrong with him?" Amy asks, sounding incredibly concerned. Harry wonders where Andrea is. He hopes she’s still alive. However-

"Go!" Harry spits out and clenches his eyes shut, hand white-knuckling Sirius' military fatigues. “Later!"

No more words are exchanged. They hightail it out of the crash zone and into the nearby bush. Harry barely has the mind to watch where they're going, the pain steadily increasing. He needs-but if he does, he will likely pass back out. He needs to warn Sirius before he does. Harry doesn’t want him freaking out and doing something stupid.

"Sir'," Harry whispers, just barely audible over his Godfather's breathing.

"Yes, Pup?" Sirius asks distractedly, looking around as he runs.

"I'll-" A flare of pain cuts him off and he hisses out the rest. "Explain later, okay?"

"What?"

Harry is already- his pain eases but unconsciousness crashes over him.

—

He wakes, strapped to a table. He doesn't know where, or who, or what he is. When? Or why? He doesn't know.

The room looks as foreign as it is scary, sterile steel and white countertops. Machines light up and weird sounds make him twitch. What is he doing here? Where is here? Who is he?

He has the feeling he lost something… he needs to find it… whatever it is. Somewhere out there is something he lost. He doesn't know what it is… but he has the feeling he'll know when he sees it.

The door opening startles him, eyes riveting to the sober, age lined men walking into the room. They stand stiffly, faces blank, staring him down with beady eyes.

Maybe they can tell him who he is.

The one with the most metal pieces attached to his suit speaks up, "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

Maybe not. He shrugs helplessly, "I was kind of hoping you'd tell me, mate."

—

Low voices draw Harry out of the darkness. He can't quite make out the words. He slowly opens his eyes, lids feeling heavy and uncooperative. The sounds sharpen a bit but still not enough for him to hear. He thought- did he dream-?

"Hey! He's awake!" Another familiar voice hisses. Amy leans over him with a hopeful face, "Harry?"

Startling, Harry jerks away, not expecting her to suddenly appear like that. Amy startles as well but she's pushed out of the way by Sirius, eyes wide and his own hopeful look. The sheer relief Harry felt that Sirius is indeed real and here is nearly staggering. Good thing he hasn't tried to get up yet.

"Harry?" Sirius ventures in a hopeful tone.

Harry lifts his hand clumsily, grasping a fistful of Sirius' fatigues, "Sir'."

Sirius laughs disbelievingly, tears spilling down his cheeks unashamed, "I can't believe it's you! I can't believe you're here!" He leans down and Harry closes his eyes to the pepper of kisses over his face, smiling helplessly. His Godfather leaves wet trails behind from his tears. "My Godson! You're alive!"

"Hey, give the boy some space," Michonne orders, forcefully pulling Sirius off Harry and shoving him aside with one hand. In the other is a bowl. "He needs fluids before you smother him."

"Hey!" Sirius complains.

Amy laughs at him.

The woman looks down at Harry as she kneels next to him, "Hey, name's Michonne. Come, I'll help you drink."

Though very wary, her body language similar to those in the commune, Harry trusts Andrea and Amy not to be with a psycho. Harry grunts, feeling incredible stiffness in his back that doesn't stretch well at all. Sirius scoots in on Harry's other side, helping him up so Michonne can tilt the bowl into Harry's mouth. He drinks sip after sip of the broth until Michonne pulls the empty bowl away. "There. Not much but something."

"Thank you," Harry croaks, sounding much better. He hates broth but it’s better than nothing, he supposes. They probably thought anything heavier would be detrimental. Then, it occurs to him that he doesn’t know-"Where's Dray?"

Michonne's expression turns confused, "Who?"

Panic begins to rise. Where is Dray? Did he survive the crash? Did Harry fail, again? "The-the child. I had-Where's Dray? Dray?!" Harry tries to push away from their hold, eyes darting around in a panic. "Dray!"

"Wait! Wait, you mean Andre?" Michonne clarifies suddenly.

Harry stops, panting, "Andre?" Dray. Andre. It’s not far-fetched to think the little boy he had come to know as Dray is just a nickname, especially since he’s so young that singular sounds are common.

Michonne gives him a shaky smile, fresh tears tracking the sides of her cheeks, "M-my son. He's there," she said, pointing to the bundle of blankets in the corner. Dray is okay. He’s fine. Harry relaxes into their hold.

"Dray-I mean, Andre is your son?" Harry asks incredulously.

Michonne gives a tremulous nod, casting another glance at her sleeping son, "I thought-I searched for so long."

"How did you get separated?"

"I-I came back and he was gone. I couldn't… I couldn't find him. I searched everywhere. I… I ripped open so many Empties to check their stomachs… including my husband and his friend," she sounds so haunted. Harry figures she has every right to. He cannot imagine cutting open a loved one to see if they ate their own kid. She suddenly grasps his hand tightly, making him tense and gives him the exact same intense look that Dray-Andre-gave Harry back at Jessie's house, "Did you find him?"

Harry shook his head and pulled his hand away. Michonne smiles sheepishly and he replies, "Not really? The group he was with said some guy found him unattended. I don't know who."

Michonne nods, casting her eyes back at her son, "So how did you meet?"

"He found me, actually," Harry smiles, remembering Dray's little face peeking out of the door. "He was living with a bunch of other kids and teens. He opened the door to look at me."

"Where was this?"

"A town called Ruby, I think. It's somewhere outside Washington, though that's really all I can say. I have no clue on the geography of the States, you understand."

"Washington?" Michonne and Sirius mimic at the same time with different tones. As the lady turns her thoughts inwards, his Godfather asks, "You were in Washington this entire time?!"

Michonne mumbles to herself as she gets up and goes to her son.

"Er… yeah," Harry says, eyeing Sirius in confusion.

"We searched a ten block radius from the crash and then figured you two died. How?" Sirius asks, sounding puzzled and a little irate.

"Someone found us," Harry replies, shrugging. The motion pulls at his back. He should-energy tingles as he concentrates and the tension in his back eases significantly. Pleasantly surprised, Harry rotates his shoulders. Pain free and easy.

"What did you do?" Sirius asks quietly out of nowhere.

Harry looks at him, brows pulled down. Did Sirius sense-"Do what?"

"I felt your magic moving weirdly," Sirius explains, eyeing Harry from head to foot. "What did you do?"

Harry slides his eyes to the others, seeing Andrea curled up with Amy on the floor, "I'll explain later."

Sirius glances over as well and then sighs, nodding, "Very well, Pup. We have plenty to catch up on but for now, you should get more sleep." He goes to help Harry lay back down.

The teen pulls on Sirius' sleeve, "Don't-"

Sirius pauses, "Harry?"

Harry swallows heavily, looking down, feeling uncharacteristically shy and nervous, "Can-" His Godfather patiently waits, eyes focused in anticipation. Like Harry asking for something is just what Sirius wants. "Don't leave."

Sirius relaxes with a wide smile, "Oh, Pup. Nothing is separating us again. I promise."

The vow settles Harry's deepest fears and he lays down willingly. Sirius quickly lays down as well, bare inches apart for warmth, "I'll be right here."

The assurance allows Harry to drop back into sleep.

—

They gave him the name John Doe. It sounds plain and boring but he doesn't know his own. He needs to be called something, so Mister John Doe he becomes. They do all sorts of tests on him, none of which he understands but they deem him human (there was doubt?).

One of the tests was a man who asked many questions. They were not shy in sharing what they learned in front of him, like he isn't a threat. They call him a psychopath. What's that? Did they call him stupid? (He feels the intense need to hurt them. How dare they talk about him like that?)

Showing quick reflexes gave them the idea to train him until they figure out what to do with him. While not quite as physically fit as the next guy, he held his own surprisingly well. After a couple more fights, he knows the most effective way to take someone down. He does so with extreme prejudice, often getting in trouble for unnecessary aggression.

Time doesn't have meaning in this place. He feels tight and wound, like a predator needing the hunt. He intentionally bests his teachers and inflicts pain to excise the need to hurt people.

And all the while, he feels as if something is missing.

—

The early morning daylight peaking through the open window is in just the right spot and angle to shine directly into Harry's sleeping eyes. He clenches his eyes and rolls into the warmth next to him, relaxing as he presses his face into it. An arm comes down over his side and it's just enough to wake Harry with a questioning thought. Who…?

Blinking his eyes open, Harry peeks up and finds Sirius' sleeping face. Yet again, tension drains from his frame at finding his Godfather… here and somehow… alive. He doesn't know how or why but he isn't questioning it. He'll take every damn miracle he can get. Especially the kind that returns his Godfather to him, the one he met and came to love from his old world.

He wonders what happened to Terrence... and then it occurs to him that Terrence was Padfoot this entire time. It’s the only thing that makes sense! If Terrence was a normal dog, then he wouldn’t have disappeared like that. Was the separation of Sirius and Padfoot the reason his Godfather didn’t recognize him? Was his memories tied to Terrence this entire time? And for that matter, was it actually Trent that had a passing resemblance to Harry all this time? Is that why Terrence was with him? Because he looked like Harry and the familiarity was enough? Though satisfied with the answer of where did Terrence go? Harry is nonetheless bothered by the increasing questions.

Coming back to himself, Harry takes the moment to examine his body. His magic automatically soothes the aches - useful - and he finds the pain he felt earlier was a deeply bruised spine. There were breaks and fractures all over his body from the crash but the most severe was his spine. The level of information is detailed, far more so than he had ever gotten before.

Then, that's when he feels it. Or rather, notices.

Sparks in his mind. Nearby, there are five. One smaller than the others but all burning with a fierce will to live. The smallest one moves and approaches him, so he turns over, somehow surprised to find Dray - or Andre - approaching. Is he… sensing their will to live… unconsciously?

"Morning Draygon," Harry greets in a whisper, pulling away from his Godfather to sit up. He barely has time to put his hands up before Andre is whispering back, "Go potty."

Surprised, Harry glances at the still sleeping Michonne, "Don't want to wake your Mum?"

Andre widens his eyes and looks over, as if completely forgetting he found his Mother. He runs over and trips on the edge of her foot, landing on his stomach with a cry. Michonne snaps up, hand on her sword. Amy scrambles into a crouch, looking around wildly. A second later, Andre starts crying.

"Oh, Peanut, it's okay," Michonne coos as she pulls her son to her to sooth him.

Sirius sits up with a yawn, "What's that?"

Overcome with the ridiculous urge to hug his Godfather, Harry just does so. Sirius is caught off guard but quickly recovers, wrapping nearly all of himself back around Harry. It's been so long since he's been able to do this and though he keenly misses the lost opportunities, he's happy to take them now.

"Missed you, Pup," Sirius mumbles into his hair.

Harry smiles as he pulls back, "I missed you too. You have no idea." Andre had calmed by this time, cuddling in with his Mother contentedly. Harry quirks a smile and informs her, "He needed the loo."

"The what?" Michonne asks, taken aback. Right, British to American.

"The bathroom," Sirius translates for him.

Michonne looks at her son, "Need potty, little man?"

As if just remembering, Andre nods vigorously, eyes wide. Harry laughs as Michonne abruptly gets up and carries her son down the hall.

“Harry,” Amy calls, sounding worried.

The teen glances over and for the first time, sees how Andrea is sweating and shaking. He focuses- she has a nasty bacterial infection in her chest, almost pneumonia-like. It’s not getting better, in fact, with the way her body is giving up, she only has a few days at most. Colds and flus can be deadly if not managed, how long has Andrea been sick for?

Harry scoots over wordlessly, Amy’s relieved face watching intently as he hovers his hand over Andrea’s ankle. So unlike the time he healed Amy, where his hands were suction-cupped to the mortal wounds like literal bandages. Warmth fizzles down his arm and magic mist seeps into Andrea’s body. She suddenly inhales, long, dry, free of wheezing and coughs, exhaling slowly and peacefully into a deeper sleep. He heals the damage the infection wrought to her lungs, being left unchecked for so long. Then, he pulls back, scooting to his original spot. He barely expended any energy on that.

Amy checks her older sister over with tearful eyes, sniffing when she finds Andrea fine and healthy, no sign of any sickness having been there. Then she smiles at Harry gratefully, “Thank you, Harry. Really.”

The teen shakes his head and waves her off. It was hardly a bother. As far as he’s concerned, they are even from helping and sheltering Sirius while Harry was out. Couldn’t have been easy to trust someone based solely on Harry knowing them. Amy curls around her sister.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Sirius comments neutrally.

Nodding, Harry eyes Amy's scarred shoulder, proof of her survival. "I have somewhere I need to go and someone to find. Will you…" come with me?

Sirius lays an affectionate hand on the crook of Harry's neck, squeezing gently, "I told you. We're not separating again. I go where you go."

Harry smiles, his shoulders relaxing, "Thanks, Sir'." His own hand comes up to lay on Sirius’, again savouring the feeling. He thought he lost this a lifetime ago.

Sirius smiles, calm and confident, filling Harry with comfort. He will do his damnedest to keep his Godfather alive. Harry will not lose him again. It was a true miracle to find him here and Harry knows true miracles only happen once.

Michonne comes back in, Andre on her hip. He's resting his head on her shoulder, perfectly happy to be there. She approaches Harry with determination and something about that, how domineering and confident she is, sets something off- phantom electricity seizes his muscles and Harry cowers, throwing his arms up to ward off the cruel Matron. She laughs, pressing down on the button again, delighting in his writhing.

Keep fighting it, boy. The more you fight, the more I get to torment you. Please don't give in, this is most enjoyable.

Hands grab him. He's suddenly kneeling in dirt, Gene's blank eyes staring him down accusingly. He tries to fight - Harry? Harry! Snap out of it! - but he can't move. He can't breathe-Gene'sdeadanditshisfault-

"Harry!"

Hands on his face. Harry snaps out of the memories with a strangled gasp, trembling so badly he cannot coordinate his limbs. Sirius' concerned face is the only thing he can see as he flails his arms and legs to get closer. His Godfather senses his need and helps, pulling Harry right into his lap. The teen hides his face in the crook of Sirius' neck and tries to calm down. Hands come down on his back, rubbing soothingly.

"I-" Michonne starts, sounding far away. "I'm sorry, I don't-... know what I did."

"I don't think it was you," Sirius replies, vibrations travelling into Harry's body. "I think you just accidentally triggered something. Even things like body language can set off bad memories."

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder," Michonne replies, sounding tired.

"Harry, you okay?"

Sirius doesn't try to pull back and neither does Harry. His shaking hasn't even begun to cease.

"Give him some time," Sirius says serenely. He seems more than content to sit there and rub Harry’s back. Harry remains encased in Sirius' arms for a long while, his trembling slowing to tremors and then ceasing. He was trying to make sense of his reaction to Michonne, how easy it was to replace her with the Matron in that moment. He certainly hadn't expected how visceral the memories would be… it was like he was thrown back to that Room.

“How is she doing?” Michonne asks quietly.

“Much better,” Amy chirps. “Harry healed her.”

“He’s that Harry?”

Amy makes a confirming noise.

“What are you guys going to do?” Sirius asks. “Were you heading anywhere?”

“Well, we want to check out a community we scouted a few days ago.” Amy replies, sounding hopeful. “It’s completely walled and guarded. From what we saw, people were walking the streets freely. Not sure what they have to offer but it seems like our best bet.”

“I am not so sure about that place,” Michonne offers. “But now that I have my Peanut, I don’t think I really have a choice. The road is a dangerous place for a child.”

Sirius makes an agreeing noise.

“It won’t be so bad, Mich’,” Amy says, her tone confident. “I’m sure it’s a good place to raise Andre.”

Michonne purses her lips, “We’ll see.”

“What about you, Sirius?” Amy asks, curious.

“Harry is my Godson, if it isn’t obvious by now. I go where he goes.” Finally feeling centered and calm, Harry feels safe enough to let go. He’s somewhat embarrassed by his neediness and was about to apologize when Sirius poked him on the forehead, "No."

Smirking, Harry nods instead, swallowing the apology.

Sirius offer a small smile, "You alright?"

Harry glances at the others and nods. He’s okay for now but he’s not specifying until they are alone.

"Harry," Michonne calls softly.

He turns, finding Andre taking a nap on her lap. He can't help smiling at the little boy. She follows his gaze down and smiles herself, hand gently smoothing the curls down, "I um…" a tear slips out as she swallows. "I'm sorry about earlier. I wanted to… to thank you. I don't know what happened but I'm so grateful to you."

Harry shook his head, waving the gratitude away. Why do people keep thanking him for being a decent human being is beyond him. "It was all him. He refused to let anyone touch him and when we tried to force the issue, he screamed. He seemed to know something none of us did."

"Still. Thank you. I owe you so much."

Harry shakes his head again, growing a bit frustrated, "No. Whatever you owe me? Turn it into protecting him. Somehow I doubt you'll get a third chance."

Michonne straightens her back and nods, determination settling her shoulders. Amy takes this chance to scoot closer, her cheeks turning pink when Harry looks at her, "Hey, Harry! Thanks again!”

He smiles at her, feeling confused when her cheeks darken, "Hullo, Amy. How are you?"

Amy glances at her sister, who sleeps on, "We're okay. You?"

Harry shrugs, not really able to say one way or another. He certainly doesn’t feel comfortable with her presence so close to him. "What happened? You guys get separated?"

Amy half nods, "Pretty much. We were at a farm and it got overrun by a herd of walkers. Andrea and I were cut off from the rest of the group and met up with Michonne some time after that. We spent the winter together."

"Anyone pass?"

"Jacqui died at the CDC. As far as I know, no one else."

Harry barely remembers the kind, older lady he met in Atlanta.

"It's something, at least," Harry replies, sighing tiredly. He doesn’t know how she went but he hopes she found peace.

"What are you guys going to do?" Amy asks curiously.

"I need to find Zoey," Harry says, moving to stand. His muscles tremble minutely and he's stiff but otherwise completely fine. "We were separated a while ago."

"I was wondering…" Amy says wonderingly. "I didn't want to ask just in case…"

Harry can understand that, "As far as I know, she's with a couple of friends I trust, so she should be fine."

"Would…" Amy ventures, sounding a bit shy. "Could you come with us as far as this community? I didn't get a chance to talk to you before you disappeared."

"I don't think so," Harry replies, shaking his head. He doesn’t really want to go to any community. "I need to get going."

"Do you even know where you are?" Amy asks him a little tartly, crossing her arms with a raised brow.

Harry pauses, sighing, "No."

She smirks, "Do you know where to go?"

Harry thins his lips, not liking where this is going. Sirius laughs as he stands as well, "Let's just go, Pup. I don't even know where we are but I can follow a map just fine. She said nothing about staying."

Harry sighs again, giving in, "How far?"

"Not too far," Michonne interjects. "A few miles. An hour or so of walking."

"I'd feel safer," Amy hints heavily, blinking her eyes rapidly. Harry eyes her oddly, glancing at Sirius when he hears his Godfather giggling.

"Are your eyes okay?" Harry asks her, concentrating - there's nothing wrong with her eyes. She's malnourished and perpetually exhausted but her eyes are fine.

Amy hisses at Michonne when she cracks and starts giggling. Harry looks between them but doesn’t understand what’s so funny.

"Fine. We'll go," Harry shakes his head.

Recovering, Amy claps her hands and then reaches out and takes Harry's. He gently takes his hand back, feeling even more confused but Amy doesn't seem discouraged. Sirius clamps a hand on Harry's shoulder with a wide grin.

"What?" Harry asks, feeling lost. What is he missing to put that expression on Sirius’ face?

Sirius shakes his head, "Nothing, Pup. You feeling up to leaving?"

Harry nods, managing a smile, "More than."

Sirius gives Harry a wrinkly, patterned cloth to wrap around his neck. His Godfather’s eyes are dark and angry at the thick band of scarred skin as it disappears under the cloth. Harry doesn’t know why the others haven’t asked him about it yet but he figures Sirius ran interference. Harry appreciates it more than he can say.

Andrea is happy to see Harry when she finally wakes. Though the older blonde woman is still stand-offish, she nonetheless smiles and nods in appreciation. The sisters share a hug and Harry watches on, wishing Zoey was here to do the same.

Soon, he promises himself.

—

“-blew up. The guy was completely nuts and kept looking at me funny. I didn’t like him at all. After that-” Harry listens with one ear as Amy prattles on and on, telling him what happened after Zoey and he left the Quarry. Andrea is up ahead, leading them confidently even after being deathly sick and Michonne is somewhere to his right, Andre content in her arms. Sirius is almost literally right behind him, keeping pace and never getting too far. Harry can understand that, he doesn’t want Sirius getting too far away either.

“-Sophia ran away-”

Harry blinks, sharply looking at Amy, “Sophia did what?”

Amy nods, as if agreeing with something Harry unintentionally implied, “Yeah, she ran down the ditch and into the forest. Daryl eventually found her, though, so as far as I’m aware, she’s alive.”

Relief nearly makes him stumble. Harry is glad that the little, shy girl from the Quarry survived so far. He hopes she still is. She deserves to see adulthood at the very least.

“Anyway, we stayed at this farm for a couple of weeks-”

Harry nods absently as Amy continues her story. Carl getting shot made him worry for a bit but he’s happy to hear that Rick’s son made it through okay. Andrea glances over her shoulder and rolls her eyes but Amy sticks her tongue out and continues anyway, a little louder to bother her sister. Harry can see the relief Amy feels that Andrea is no longer dying.

Amy is about to launch into the winter months when Harry is hit with a wall of paralyzing dread. He stops in place, unable to bring himself to go any further. He has the feeling that, if he goes there, he will not escape. He won't be coming back out. He'll be stuck in a small white room with a shock collar to ensure compliance and made to heal people and-

"Harry!"

He shakes out of the spiral of negative thoughts, coming back to the moment. Sirius is in front of him, slowly smiling as Harry recovers, "You okay?"

"I'm not going," Harry croaks, eyes flicking down the road in abject dread. "You guys shouldn't either."

Andrea sighs, shaking her head, "You don't have to but I'm done sleeping on floors and the ground. Come on, Amy. We're close."

Michonne is frowning, glancing between Harry and the girls she spent the winter surviving with. She looks down at Andre, who stares up with large trusting eyes. Harry sees her lips press together as she comes to some kind of decision.

"I'm not going," Michonne says loud enough for them to hear.

Andrea stops, "’Chonne?"

"I didn't like it in the first place," Michonne says meaningfully, getting a resigned nod from the older blonde. "I'm going to check out that other place."

"You sure?"

Michonne nods, glancing at Harry and Sirius. Andrea sighs, turning back to pull the other woman into a hug, "Be careful, okay? And I'm glad you found your son."

"Thank you, Andy," Michonne replies thickly, pulling Amy into the group hug as well. "You too, yeah?"

"Bye Harry," Amy smiles shyly, making to approach him after the hug.

He waves back, smiling stiffly, "Take care." It seems to get through to her because her shy smile falters. It turns into a small smile as she turns back to her sister and rejoins her side. The two wave again before turning around and leaving.

“Is it okay if I stick with you guys for a while?” Michonne asks, absently rocking Andre. Michonne’s decision to stay with them rather than go onward to a community that at least promises safety for young children is telling. Does she trust them or is it a far more ominous reason that has her following them instead?

Harry glances over his shoulder at the sisters, "You sure, Michonne?"

She nods, smiling at her son with love in her eyes, "I told them I had a bad feeling about that place. But they wants what it offers."

Harry shrugs, not really wanting to but needing some sort of direction. "May as well. We need a map and someone familiar with the roads. You find another community near here?"

Michonne shrugs this time, lightly tickling her son’s neck. Andre giggles, cricking his neck to try to keep her fingers out. Michonne smiles wider, "There's a prison about a day's walk from here. I saw it when scouting and told Andrea about it but she didn't want to check it out. Too far. I want to see if anyone is there. I like the potential of the fences."

Harry glances up at Sirius, getting a shrug and motion to go ahead. Then he turns back to Michonne, "Lead the way?"

She stalks ahead. She looks deadly even with the toddler on her hip. Harry doesn't really fancy finding out just how deadly she is with her sword.

—

Michonne is a work of art with the Katana she bears.

Harry admires her form, evidently self taught but nonetheless deadly and efficient. Very little movement wasted and quick, the boy on her hip not at all impeding her single-minded focus. He wonders how she can hold Andre for so long but it soon becomes clear that she’s too stubborn to let him go.

Harry can understand that. If Zoey was small enough to pick up like that, Harry would probably do the same.

However, after a couple of hours of hard walking, only encountering a few Biters along the road – Harry isn’t sure if the sisters shared his abilities with her but she hasn’t given any indication she knows beyond his healing capabilities – Andre reaches out for Harry.

“Aw,” Michonne coos, shooting a smile over her shoulder at the teen. “He seems to like you a lot.”

Harry’s heart melts a little from how cute the boy is and shrugs, “I seem to have that effect on kids. Can’t begin to explain why.”

“He’s adorable,” Sirius comments with his own soft smile.

Andre whines a little and tries to crawl over Michonne’s shoulder, reaching with tiny hands for the teen a few feet away. Michonne pulls him back down a little to keep him from toppling over her shoulder, “You want Harry, Peanut?”

Andre nods furiously.

Michonne sighs but turns, looking a little disappointed, “You mind carrying him for a while?”

Harry half shrugs, “That’s what he seems to want. The last time he acted like this, he screamed himself silly.”

Sirius’ soft smile morphs into a grin, “Kid knows what he wants!”

Michonne hugs Andre to herself for a few moments and then hands him over to Harry, “I guess my arms were getting a little tired.” She’s clearly reluctant to hand him over.

Harry situates the child comfortably in his arms, smiling as he asks, “You good now, little Draygon?”

Andre perks up, beaming widely and giving the mightiest roar he can manage.

Michonne and Sirius burst out laughing. Harry grins in amusement, “Very good! The Mightiest Draygon!”

Andre giggles, clapping his hands in excitement, causing Michonne’s face to drop. It takes on heartbreak and joy at once, a strange, bittersweet mixture of someone who never thought they would see such a thing again. Harry doesn’t know what to feel about it. He instead distracts himself and Andre as they begin walking again. This time, Harry walks right next to Michonne so that she can see her little boy without having to peek over her shoulder.

Sirius walks behind Harry and from Andre’s continued giggling, his Godfather is amusing the child with funny faces. Though Michonne is enjoying the sight of her child laughing and babbling nonsensically, she’s clearly working through some of her own demons at the same time. What is it like, to think your baby dead and then finding them again? What is she feeling right now, to know that her son is alive and not eaten? Harry can’t even imagine what she’s going through but he’s glad to have brought some measure of peace to her.

With the sun turning rosy gold, Harry hands the now tired Andre back to his Mother. She takes him with relief, hugging the child firmly to herself as if re-memorizing the feel of him in her arms. Harry smiles softly, feeling a little bitter about the sight. Michonne gets her son back... will Harry get his sister back? Will she still fit in his arms? Has she grown?

Harry yearns to find out.

---

They camp for the night in the forest and the next day, it's a matter of hours before they find the prison Michonne was talking about. The yard is half way empty and he spies someone in the tower. As they get closer, little flares of Will crop into his senses one by one, all bright and strong. Most of them are within the prison but some are in the yard.

A sharp whistle and all three pause. Activity behind the fence starts up and it's not long before Harry sees a familiar man come running up, even through the grizzled mess on his face. His Will to Live is as strong and unyielding as his shoulders seem to be, carrying the weight of so many lives. The blue eyes he remembers from the previous year are harder, colder. The clench of his jaw is tight and wary.

"Who are you?" Rick yells through both fences. "What are you doing here?"

"You don't recognise me, Rick?" Harry yells back, tilting his head and then mumbles, "That's new."

Sirius chortles, both ignoring Michonne's startled look as Rick puffs himself up, "Who are you? How do you know me?"

"We met in a rather charming tank in Atlanta!"

Rick's face drops and he clutches the fence in sudden realization, "Harry?"

"A tank?" Sirius elbows Harry's upper arm. "Need to tell me that one, too."

"Add it to the list," Harry dismisses in his distraction. "So you do remember!"

Rick turns away, waving at someone and then hurries to take out the keys. His hands are shaking. Harry focuses- Rick is exhausted, running on fumes for way too long. He's incredibly malnourished and the strain of stress has wreaked havoc on his musculature and bones. He also has several ulcers just waiting to explode.

Rick gets through the first gate and tries to unlock the second, "Didn't think we'd ever meet again after you disappeared!"

Harry shrugs, "Zoey wanted to go back home."

Rick starts and looks around, "Is she-?"

Harry waves the question off, "It's complicated."

Rick finally has the second gate unlocked, just in time for several people to come around to see who is here. As Michonne and Sirius enter the gate, Harry pauses, hovering his hand over Rick's chest. The effect is immediate; Rick's minute trembling ceases and he relaxes quite a bit, looking surprised as his aches and pains vanish.

"There," Harry says plainly, dropping his hand. "You aren't taking care of yourself properly."

Sirius snorts again, gaining a flat look from Harry. Rick looks between them but addresses the teen, "Thank you. It's… been a rough time. Actually-"

"Is that Harry?!" Glenn's voice sounds from nearby. He sounds surprised and anxious. Out of the entire group, Harry was honestly hoping to see him again. Him and Sophia.

The Korean comes running up, relief releasing the tension in his shoulders. Harry waves with a, "Wotcher, mate."

Glenn stops, his sweaty face becoming confused, "What?"

"Harry," Rick catches Harry's attention. "I know you just got here but-"

Harry straightens. That could only mean- "Who?"

"His name is Herschel. He got bit while we were taking the prison and isn't doing too good," Glenn explains quickly. "We had to amputate."

"I don't think I can bring back a leg, mate," Harry says, glancing at Sirius to make sure he's okay with the sudden information dump. His Godfather is watching everything with a carefully blank face. "But I'll do what I can."

He follows Glenn's quick clip into the prison proper. Rick doesn't follow, having to turn to re-lock the inner gate and talk to Michonne but Sirius does, right on Harry's heels like he said he would be. He's practically a large, intimidating shadow that makes the teen feel far safer than he has in months.

"In here," Glenn motions to an open door. Harry precedes him, taking in Lori, a dark haired woman and a younger blonde girl sitting around an unconscious older gentleman. The one leg is straight but the other stops mid-thigh. Harry focuses- getting a plethora of medical information he barely knows how to parse. It seems the area is beginning to get infected. The old man is definitely not good and it would be a long road to recovery if Harry doesn’t do something.

"Harry?" Lori asks in shock. Harry glances at her, focusing-she's quite heavily pregnant, nearly to term. The fetus is sitting funny, the cord threatening to wrap around the small neck and needs to be corrected or one, or both, will die. Harry nods at her and then approaches the bed. He barely gets his hand over the older man's leg when he starts relaxing into the mattress.

"What's going on?" The dark haired woman asks, reaching out to stop him. She seems terrified of the implications of the older man relaxing into the bed.

"Wait, don't-!" Lori and Glenn say together, the latter catching the woman and pulling her back before she can touch either of them.

Harry concentrates and allows their conversation to flow over his head. The dark haired woman asks impatiently, "What is he doing to my Daddy?"

"Mags, please. Trust us. Herschel is going to be fine,” Glenn pleads with her, drawing Mags eyes away from the scene. There’s a very obvious hint of intimacy between the two; Harry faintly thinks, good for him.

"Harry can heal," Lori explains, coming around the bed to their side. Mags looks at the both of them with rising incredulousness.

"Heal?"

Harry steps back, his magic no longer flowing. He sags a little tiredly as Mags and the smaller blonde crowd in to check. Sirius grasps his shoulders and keeps him up with a quiet, "You okay?"

Harry nods though he’s used up quite a bit of his magic healing the area. It was bad. He doesn’t know what they used to amputate but it did a lot of damage. "There was a lot of damage. It wasn't cut cleanly and he lost a lot of blood. There was an infection starting that I purged, so he should be okay to walk around when he feels up to it."

"Okay to walk around?!" The smaller blonde says incredulously, disbelievingly. Her eyes cut from him to the leg a few times, seeming more and more angry.

"Yes," Harry says to her, hoping she gets a grip on herself. "Glenn and Lori are telling the truth, I can heal. I healed his leg as best as I could. There shouldn’t be any danger of infection or relapses. As soon as he feels up to it, he'll be fine to get around on his own. You might want to find some crutches for him."

Mags unwraps Herschel's bloody bandages and a quiet gasp comes out as she marvels at the healed skin. It looks like Herschel lost his leg years ago, not a mere day ago. Beth’s angry eyes soften as she leans in to look closer as well.

"Still amazing," Lori murmurs as she watches.

Harry turns to her, "I think you and I need to talk."

Lori takes a breath, "Oh?" She sounds anxious. The large bulge of her stomach is nearly grotesque with how gaunt she is. She places her nervous hands over the mound, fingers splayed.

"Would you rather speak privately?" Harry looks at the others pointedly.

Lori crowds in closer without looking at them, "Is it the baby?" She asks in a terrified, small voice.

Harry tilts his head, "Both. You got a C-section for Carl, yes?"

Lori nods, her mouth pulling down in her concern. She seems more than a little confused on how he would know something so private when it had never come up before.

"Don't ask me how I know," Harry prefaces a little late. "But your baby is not sitting properly. The cord is going to wrap around the neck and you will not be able to birth them naturally."

From the look on her face, Lori already knew. Her Will is strong but something about it is sad. Knowing. Almost like Lori knows she's not going to make it through the birth, "I-... I didn't know about…" Her fingers curl over her stomach. "But Carl had to be… and we don't have much of a choice. And I didn't… know how to ask… I-... I wasn't very kind to either of you."

Harry shrugs, "I've quite literally had worse. You were scared. My personal feelings shouldn't come in the way of doing what's right."

Lori twitches, her fingers squeezing each other. She smooths them over her stomach and her Will flares brighter, "Can you?"

Harry smiles and steps out of Sirius' hold, hovering his palms over her stomach. His magic immediately begins flowing out, mist like, sinking into her stomach. Lori gasps but refrains from moving as the baby is moved within her. It settles into the proper place, magic knowing exactly what to do even if Harry normally wouldn’t and then the cord is moved and tucked in a more natural way. While he is here, he expends a little more magic on her body, easing the strain the pregnancy had on her.

When Harry pulls back, he has barely any energy to stay standing. He leans heavily into Sirius as Lori, cheeks pink and looking far healthier, examines her stomach with a growing smile. "I didn't-Thank you, Harry."

“Wait-” Harry tries to ward off the resulting hug, bearing it stiffly when Sirius doesn’t allow him to escape, “It’s... not a problem, really.”

Lori shakes her head as she pulls back, tears of happiness falling down her cheeks as she says, “I have the chance to see my child because of you. It’s not-it’s not nothing. Thank you.” It occurs to Harry right then that she really didn’t expect to live long enough to greet her baby. It fills him with awe to witness the power of motherhood in front of his eyes. Is this how his Mother felt when Harry came about?

Not knowing what to say, Harry just nods and looks away. His heart hurts for some reason.

“She’s right, Harry,” Glenn says, coming around from the bed where Mags and the blonde are. “We can’t thank you enough.”

Harry is beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable with the gratitude, “You know I-”

“No, don’t do that,” Glenn insists, waving his hand and then pointing at Harry. “Not everyone thinks like you do. Just accept our gratitude, already.”

Harry chuckles tiredly, “Alright. You’re welcome.”

Sirius huffs in amusement behind him, “Oh, great miracle. Harry accepts a thank you.”

“Hush, you,” Harry says tiredly, quirking a grin over his shoulder.

“Who is this?” Glenn asks curiously, Lori looking interested as well.

Harry doesn’t have the energy to move away from Sirius’ warmth, “This is my Godfather. We found each other recently.”

Glenn’s eyebrows go up, as does Lori’s, “That’s lucky, to find him all the way out here. I assumed all of your family was back in Britain.”

Harry snorts, “Yeah, I had no idea either. It’s a long story and as much as I would like to share, is it possible you have a corner I can pass out in?” He wavers and it’s only Sirius’ grip on his upper arms that keeps him standing.

“We can do better than a corner,” Mags scoffs from the bed. “Give him mine. I’m not going to be using it anyway.”

Glenn nods quickly, “Come. It’s not much but definitely better than the floor.”

—

Something is missing.

John cannot find it. When the need grew too strong to ignore any longer, he began looking. Everywhere. Under and over everything. Behind cabinets and doors. Storage spaces and offices. Gyms and armouries. He looked under every rock and paper in the entirety of the facility.

He just cannot find it.

He doesn't know what it is. He only has the irrefutable knowledge that something is gone from his person and that he needs to find it. He'll somehow know what it is when he lays eyes on it. But he needs to find it. Where? Where could it have gone?

He thought, for a wild moment, that the boy was the key. As soon as he saw the grainy picture from a street camera, he knew. The kid looks so painfully familiar, in some way that hits his heart hard. It thumps painfully for some reason that escapes John. But no, the kid isn't what he's looking for…

But he wants that kid.

He will have that kid.