A/N: I started watching Walking Dead this summer, and season 5 isn't coming fast enough. So I thought I'd write a little post-Terminus scenario in the mean time. Will probably be Jossed once the show starts up again. Slight reference to Ford's history in the comics.


"I admire the loyalty you all have for each other, I really do. I guess I just think saving the world's more important –"

"Didn't you get the memo?" The world went an' ended! There ain't no savin' it!"

Abraham Ford gritted his teeth and pulled at his mustache to keep himself from taking a swing at the man in front of him. He needed to keep this group together so they could get Eugene to Washington, and save whatever was left of civilization. He had to believe there were pockets of it left, of something good that survived even after – everything. Why else were there people still alive? Problem was horses and water had nothing on the sheer pigheadedness that confronted him here. "I'm just remembering the last time we took a detour and ended up prisoners of psycho cannibals!"

The man – Daryl, the others called him, though Ford hadn't been introduced properly to any of the new ones – shoved past Ford to walk further down the tracks. Ford grabbed his arm just above the elbow, intending to spin him around and continue their argument. He understood very well why Daryl wanted to go back and rescue the girl. But it was a pipe dream that could lose them weeks of time better spent heading north. Every day out here was a danger for Eugene. The man had to accept that the girl was already dead or worse, sooner rather than later.

When Ford made contact with Daryl he caught a motion in his periphery. He glanced over to see Rick decisively stepping forward, brushing his hand across the knife at his belt. Ford let go hastily. He wasn't afraid of a punch-up, especially if Daryl needed to work through his anger, but he'd seen Rick react to his people in danger. That was a kind of crazy Ford didn't want directed at him.

Daryl turned around snakebite quick, swinging the butt of his crossbow up a few inches in on instinct before he checked himself. Ford appreciated it; the thing was stained with years of blood and bits of gore. Daryl kept the crossbow pointed at the ground, but his trigger finger twitched visibly as he paced away two steps then closer one step, breathing heavily. "We're goin' to find her," he growled. "You comin' or not don't matter to me." Then he spun around again, stalking off in the opposite direction of Washington. Still under the watchful gaze of the group's leader, Ford didn't argue further.

Glenn's wife was right on Daryl's heels, Glenn shadowing her. She hadn't gotten between the two arguing men, but had crossed her arms and planted herself at the fork of the rails that led to where she wanted to be going. Ford watched the group stretch out along the tracks like a strand of putty. First those three, then Rick's boy and the black woman with a katana. Sasha and Bob followed next.

Rick didn't move yet, eyeing Ford with a hand still on his knife. "We gonna have a problem?"

Ford tugged again on his mustache, scowling. If he left, Rosita and Eugene would come with him. Tara probably would too now that Glenn and Maggie were reunited. Whatever that girl had done, Rick's very presence made her nervous enough to shift behind his or Eugene's bulk whenever she thought she was in his field of vision.

Problem was they had no transport, hardly any ammo, and even less food. If they encountered a herd by themselves, they couldn't fight them off or drive away. Rick's people survived two years out here facing those very odds, so Ford knew they could take care of themselves. They were also more familiar with Georgian geography and knew how to move without relying on heavy army convoys. Eugene had rambled at him all yesterday about probability and not splitting the party, how he knew mathematically as well as in his gut that without these people they could never make it to Washington. One of Ford's hard-learned rules was to always trust Eugene's plans.

Ford blew out a harsh sigh. "No," he allowed. He stepped around the tracks to give Rick a wide berth and started following the rest. "We're not gonna have a problem. One more stray to round up, and then we're heading to Washington."

"Once our family is together," Rick countered, dropping his hand from his knife and walking alongside Ford. "That's the plan." Ford hadn't been lying when he said he admired the loyalty of these people. It was just frustrating when it got in the way of his goals. When Ford didn't respond, Rick moved ahead to catch up with the front of the group.

Rosita, who had been following behind, finally herded Eugene and Tara in front of them. She fell into step beside Ford as the rearguard, a steady balm to his frustration. "Washington seem pretty far away to you?"

"It sure does." But they needed people, so on a wild goose chase they were. He just hoped the girl was as tenacious as the rest of them.