The long night passed, and dawn fell softly upon the little party. Only Meg and the children had managed any sleep. Laurie thought he ought to feel relieved at the relative safety daylight afforded them, but all he could think was that they must part ways soon. He could imagination a scenario where all of them joined together to triumph over death much more easily than he could imagine any victory when the only ones fighting were Jo, Bhaer, and himself. Simply having everyone gathered in one room had made him feel as if he was doing something, and in a matter of hours he would be alone again. He wouldn't be selfish, though. He would send them away to safety as he must, for at least then there would be no risk that they would die, and their blood would be on his hands.

He walked over to Jo, who was shivering in her corner of the couch.

"I'm going to my office to make the financial arrangements for the trip. Do you want to come with me?"

She shook her head, with a glance at Meg, who was stirring as if she might wake soon.

"I don't want to be away from her until she leaves," Jo explained.

His Grandfather, Bhaer, and Brooke were up already, and he could feel them listening to them, and watching. He leaned over to kiss Jo's temple anyway, not caring who saw or what they thought of it. She did not move away, but her gaze was chillingly blank as he did so. He turned from her quickly.

Locked away in one drawer of his desk there was more than enough money to fund any train journey imaginable. In another, there was a list of addresses belonging to his business associates in New York. He searched his tired mind for anything else that would help his family on their journey, and after a moment's thought, he opened a third drawer where he still kept a few of Amy's pencil drawings, and added one of those to the pile. He wondered if he should offer them something of Jo's as well, in case…

The thought was too terrible, and he rested his head in has hands, wishing he were better rested so that he could be as strong as he needed to be.

It took him some time to notice that his Grandfather was standing in the doorway watching him.

"Good morning, sir."

His Grandfather nodded at him, and then came over to look over his arrangements.

"I see you have everything in order."

"I'm trying to. I want to make this as easy for you and the others as possible. I know you'll look after Meg and Brooke in New York, so there's some comfort there."

"I won't insult you by asking you to go with them," began Grandfather Laurence.

"Thank you. I don't know how we're going to put an end to this, but it would be worse than cowardly to run and leave Jo behind."

"I'm glad you realize that," said his Grandfather. There was an odd resonance to his voice, and at once Laurie knew what he was thinking.

"You can't mean to stay," he said quickly.

"I can, and I do."

"Sir…"

"Listen to me carefully now. I know my age and my limitations, so you needn't worry. I won't go charging into battle like some foolhardy youth. There are still practical matters to be looked after, and I can attend to those. I didn't raise you to be an idiot, so you must know that at least four people are needed. If there are four of us, we can make sure that nobody is left alone, even if we must separate."

Laurie shook his head. "No. I- Grandfather, I found the bodies of Jo's parents before anyone else did. Her father was ripped to shreds - blood and bone and scraps of flesh everywhere, if you can imagine it. I've lost Amy, and I might well lose Jo. I need to know at least that you at least are away and safe."

Laurie would have looked away then, had his grandfather not lifted up his chin. Though they loved each other anything more affectionate than a pat on the shoulder was rare between them, and coupled with his grandfather's serious expression it made Laurie feel more like a boy than ever.

"What do you think," his grandfather asked, "I'd give to know the same about you? I have no grandson besides you, no relation to spare, yet many a family gave up their boys to the war that just passed, and now I won't run from doing the same, if it comes to that. You need to be willing to do what's best as well, even if it means sacrificing your peace of mind."

Laurie leaned back in his seat, and away from his grandfather.

"My peace of mind was blown to pieces a long time ago," he said with a bitter laugh.

"All the more reason for me to stay."

"And what if I don't allow it?"

"Do you intend to force me bodily onto that train?"

Straightening, Laurie his attention to his desk, his mouth set in a thin line. He counted once again the money needed for Meg and Brooke's train ticket, wrote notes beneath his lists of contacts, detailing which they would find most useful, and did his very best to ignore the man in front of him, fearing that he would shout, cry, or otherwise do something he would regret.

"Was there anything else you needed to speak to me about?" He asked finally, when it became clear that his Grandfather was not about to leave.

The old man nodded.

"Out with it then," Laurie spat. "Or else go downstairs and let me tend to this, so that we might get things underway quickly."

The derisive way that Laurie spoke should have made his Grandfather angry, and on one level he thought that it did. Certainly has hands were clenched tighter than usual, his back a little straighter, and there was no hint of approval in the look that he gave him. However, if Laurie needed any proof that his Grandfather was well aware of the gravity of the situation, it was in the evenness of his voice, and the way to did not scold or berate him.

"What are you intentions regarding Jo," he asked.

Laurie ran a hand through his hair. He was exhausted in mind and in body, and there was no doubting that the strength of his heart had been tried every bit as cruelly as the rest of him.

"To make sure that she lives," he answered, even as he knew that that was a vast simplification of things.

"And after that?"

"How the devil am I to know? I'm not sure that I have any."

"That's a good start," his Grandfather said. "It's best if you don't, and if you remember that in your interactions with her for the time being. If you believe, after she is well and strong again, that your feelings for her go beyond friendship, then that is one thing, but for now I hope that you will keep your head about you."

"Are you implying that I don't?"

"I'm giving warning."

Laurie shook his head, turning once again to his work, though by now it was more or less finished.

"We leave in half an hour," he said, his pen hovering uselessly over the paper, for he had nothing left that needed writing.

"Very well. I'll ride with you, and bid goodbye to Brooke and Meg."

"As you wish sir."

Laurie waited until his Grandfather had left the room, and then placed Amy's sketch back in his desk where he had found it. It was a selfish move, to be sure, but he could not help but think that he would do better if he stored up every reminder of his departed wife, and of who he had been in those few joyful months before disaster struck.

;:;:;:;:

Demi was the first to stir, and at his first childish yawn, Meg was blinking sleepily. Jo had thought that Meg looked rather like a child herself as she slept with her hair falling messily about he face, and her head pillowed in her hands. The illusion was broken, however, as soon as Meg opened her eyes and caught sight of Jo watching her, for the previous night's anxiety was still stamped upon her features.

"I'll help you get breakfast for them," Jo said briskly, seeing how Meg's eyes clouded with emotion, and feeling that her own heart might break then and there if she didn't take steps to prevent it.

"Shall we go to the kitchen then?" Meg asked, with a smile that a look at little Demi seemed to give her just enough strength for. She stood then, lifting Demi up with her.

Jo reached for Daisy's hand, but she jerked away as soon as Jo touched her, running for her mother's skirts. Jo shivered, as she had been doing uncontrollably since Beth's mind had withdrawn from her own at dawn. Perhaps she had been doing it before then, but having hardly been able to keep track of whether she was in the room with her family, or somewhere in the woods being thrown about by the child who looked like Beth, she had not noticed it.

"Don't you want to rest now," Meg asked, looking her over. "I can prepare some food, and bring it out to you."

"I feel better than I look," Jo lied, for she intended to take every second she could with Meg now, as if time was something that she could store up to sustain her when she needed it later.

Laurie had wisely brought a store of provisions from Meg's home the night before, and the two sisters went through these now, preparing a simple porridge and tea for breakfast, and packing anything that could be eaten on the train into baskets for Meg to carry.

When they had finished, all sat around the table eating, but even Daisy and Demi did not say a word. Jo thought that her food tasted like old metal. Amy had said something similar, and So Jo swallowed as much of at as she could, well aware that all eyes were on her above all else.

"We need to leave for the train station in the next five minutes," Laurie said before anyone finished eating, for Jo was not the only one with little appetite that morning. They all exchanged glances with each other.

"I can't come to see you off," Jo said, to keep anyone from telling her as much in a tone of pity that she did not think she could withstand just then. "If they check for the marks and find I have them, they might worry that the rest of you will soon become infected."

There were some nods of general agreement, and Jo suspected that the clearing of the table had been very carefully orchestrated, for within moments she and Meg were alone. Both sisters stood up.

"Please send a telegram as soon as you get there," Jo said. "I need to know that you are all safe.."

"Perhaps you will come over to New York yourself, when you are well," Meg said. She had the frantic, painful smile of one who would break down sobbing at any second. "Oh, Jo, you won't be able to go home again, not ever. Mother and Father… Jo, and now you…"

That was all that could be said, and Jo held Meg tightly, thinking that she ought to cry herself. She tried, but she couldn't, for everything seemed to be happening very far away instead of right before her, and she was afraid that she might collapse. Jo shut her eyes tightly, and when she opened them again John Brooke was there, waiting.

Jo pulled away. She had no words to comfort Meg, but she kissed her on the cheek, and did her best to smile, and to stand straight and tall until Brooke had taken her out of the room.

Jo returned to her seat at the table then and rested her head in her hands. There were plans to be made. This she told herself over and over, even whispering it out loud, as if to remind herself that she still had a chance at life, that all of them did.

"There are," said a deep, accented voice besides her.

"I thought everyone had left," Jo said.

"They aren't my family," Bhaer explained.

"What did yours think of all this, back when you used to pursue it?" Jo asked.

"I tried to keep them out of it," Bhaer responded.

"But you didn't entirely?"

"No," he said slowly. "No, I didn't. Not entirely."