Having another adult actually in the house feels weird and welcome at the same time for Shane. Granted, they've been here for days, and he has neighbors and coworkers, but that's different from being solely in charge of three teenagers. Princess joins him to wash the supper dishes, oddly quiet after all the chatter during the meal. Maybe not so odd. She's obviously more comfortable with the kids than him.

"Do you think they would assign me a job early if I asked?" Princess glances over as she finishes drying a plate and sets it in the cabinet. She's dressed in some sort of pink tunic thing that reaches mid-thigh, layered over a thin, black long-sleeved shirt and zebra print leggings. The floral pattern of the tunic should class with the leggings, but somehow, it just seems to suit her as much as the full wetsuit she uses to roam the beach.

"Get bored with the beach today?" he asks, smiling reassuringly.

"Kinda. I've had a lot of beach time, since things ended. Can't quite shut my brain off on needing to find food and stuff."

"I know the feeling. Thought I would crawl right out of my skin after one day here, to be honest." He really had. The first day had been nice, exploring the beach with the kids. But even before the world ended, he's was never the sedentary type. Even his vacations involved something active. "I don't think they'll really care if you ask to go ahead and work. I took my offered days, but that was more for the kids."

It had taken all three days for Sophia to feel comfortable being very far away from him. Even now, he notices she won't venture very far once he's back in her sight. Carl and Beth seem to have more natural reassurance, both in personality and in the idea their families are safe out there somewhere. Considering Carol's meek personality, Shane supposes Sophia's right to be wary.

"You're very good with the kids. Hard to believe none of them are yours."

Shane chuckles, passing her the now clean pot Beth used for macaroni and cheese to get rinsed and put away. "Never married. No kids. Honest truth. Just Carl's uncle."

Oddly enough, it's the separation from the rest of the group that's allowed him to settle back into the uncle role from the fatherly one he took when he thought Rick was dead. Not having to face his brother and Lori helps, he thinks. Lori swinging between angry and ashamed, and Shane knowing that Rick knows what happened, but his brother won't bring it up. Rick's always been good at trying to ignore problems until they disappear.

"Do you think the Marines will really find their families?"

"Yeah, I think they'll turn up, eventually. Unless they're constantly on the move, that search grid they're using will turn something up." Merle didn't mind filling Shane in on all the process. He'd even offered Shane a spot on a search team, even though he's not military, but Shane declined as long as he's the kids' sole guardian. Merle's never giving up the search for his brother, that's for sure, because the sober Dixon is boldly honest about needing to make up for a lot of shit to Daryl. This search is the man's penance, Shane thinks.

"And if they don't?" she asks quietly.

Shane pauses in scrubbing the last of the cooking implements used for supper and meets her gaze. She has thickly lashed dark eyes, pretty without a fleck of the makeup Shane's used to seeing on women. A flitting thought makes him wonder if she bothered with any of those extras before and kind of hopes she didn't. His answer seems important to her somehow.

"If they don't, then they still have me." There's no way he would abandon any of the kids now. It's as easy as his decision to abandon his post at the failing sheriff's department to get Lori and Carl to safety.

The answer makes her smile, bright and happy, but she ducks her head and looks away. "That's good, that they have someone guaranteed to care, even when you don't have to."

Before Shane can tackle that reply, there's a rapid fire knock at the front door that startles them both. Princess hands him the dish towel to dry his hands, although Beth's already called out that she's getting the door. He steps into the hallway as the young blonde opens the door to reveal a uniformed Marine, one of the younger, fresh-faced ones. The kid is grinning ear to ear.

"Sergeant Dixon sent me to fetch you and the kids, Deputy Walsh. He brought in a survivor group, but he said to warn you it's not everyone."

Shane doesn't even have to call the kids, because Sophia and Carl are already in the foyer. All three kids look apprehensive at the warning. What could have happened that not everyone is there? Jesus, he hopes he's not going to have to tell one or more of the kids they've lost someone. Looking back toward the kitchen, he sees Princess looking uncertain as she stands in the doorway. "Come with us. Meet some of our people."

She does smile, although it's not as big as the one she gave him in the kitchen. "Alright."

The golf cart is one of the bigger ones, with an electric motor like all the other carts used in the community to save fuel for vehicles going to the mainland. Originally a six-seater, the third seat has been removed to make for a cargo area. The girls pile into the cargo area, leaving Shane to slide into the second row seat behind the driver. Princess sits beside him, rather than the driver, so Carl takes that spot.

"Everyone's at the infirmary, getting their checkups," the Marine tells them. He's got the cart zipping along quickly. Thing was street legal for some golfing community before the outbreak, Shane thinks. They pull in outside the house repurposed for the infirmary, and everyone piles out when they see Merle waiting.

"It's not all good news, but even what isn't, ain't necessary bad news," Merle tells them, eying the anxious kids first. "They got separated by the fire, so we're going back out tomorrow to start looking in places your group and theirs haven't."

"Who is it?" Shane asks, wondering if the commander would allow them to break protocol in the case of reuniting kids with parents. He can wait to see with his own two eyes, but the kids have waited long enough to have news.

"Far as the kids are concerned, got the boy's daddy and one of the girl's sisters." That makes Shane turn and reach for Sophia immediately. She wraps her thin arms around his waist, tucking her head against his chest. "They can go on in."

Carl and Beth do spare a minute to pat at Sophia's shoulders before they pound up the steps past Merle. Shane can hear Carl calling out for Rick all the way outside.

Merle surprises him when he steps close enough to pat Sophia's shoulder himself, getting her attention. "Like I said, we're going back out in the morning, kiddo. We'll find your mama soon enough." She gives him a timid smile.

"Who did you locate?" Shane asks. He knows Rick's here, but it seems so odd that Lori isn't. How in the hell did they get separated, fire or no fire?

"Your pal Rick, plus Glenn, Andrea, T-Dog, and the old man from the quarry, Dale. Got two more that's new to me. Girl's sister and a big fella that don't speak much."

Shane thinks that over, realizing that leaves Hershel and Daryl with three missing women and a teenage boy. It's a tall order for the two men, but they're capable, and if she puts her mind to it, so is Lori. He can't assess Patricia's capability, not with how little he saw of her on the farm, but he suspects it's similar to Carol. He'll just have faith they'll be fine and Merle will eventually find Sophia's mother for her as he promised.

A distraction from those thoughts arrives in the form of Rick, who barely gives Sophia time to let go of Shane before he's wrapping Shane in a rib crushing hug. It's not as good as the first one after Rick made it to the quarry, but damn, he's glad to see his brother alive and well. "I'm never gonna stop owing you everything," Rick mutters as he finally lets Shane breathe. He's crying openly, even as Carl follows and hugs him tight. They can't seem to let go of each other, and Shane doesn't blame them.

"You don't owe me a damn thing, brother." Shane's not ashamed to wipe away tears. He looks for where Sophia went, feeling relieved when he sees she's standing with Princess, who has one of the teen's hands tucked in her left hand. "This is Princess. She's been staying with me and the kids, helping me look after them." It's only been a day, but the fact that she's keeping close to Sophia just shows the truth of it.

Rick edges forward with his Carl-shaped appendage still attached, offering a hand to the young Latina woman. "I'm Rick Grimes."

Princess shakes, offering Rick a cheerful smile. "Carl's dad, Shane's brother. They talked about you a lot."

Shane supposes they had, sharing far more with Princess last night than she had shared with them. No one had wanted to pry into why she didn't have anyone to lose when the outbreak happened. He can see her assessing him and Rick, taking note of the near impossibility of them being brothers biologically, but she doesn't say anything about it.

"They put me and Maggie to the front of the line for physicals," Rick explains. "Because of the kids. Can't believe they have an actual doctor here."

Merle's shit eating grin tells Shane that the commander is still using her "call me Cass" routine, so he keeps the secret for now. It's amusing enough. The big redneck clears his throat. "Since Miss Princess is already integrated a bit, we're gonna assign the house next door to Walsh's for half your group, Grimes, plus the one across the street. Y'all can divvy up how you like on roommates and let us know how you settle it."

Rick looks to Shane, obviously curious, so Shane explains. "Got the girls sharing the front room at mine, me and Carl in the room with two sets of bunk beds, and Princess has the other. House next door is set up similar. Master bedroom, one other bedroom with a queen sized bed, and one with a single set of bunk beds. Don't know about across the street." He'd wandered over to help Princess carry her groceries back to merge the households.

"That one's just a two bedroom," Merle says. "Queen beds in both."

"Not sure what Maggie will want as far as Beth, but might as well leave her with Sophia for now, right?" Rick suggests. The careful way he doesn't look at the blonde teenager present makes Shane want to hug him again, for not wanting to cause Sophia extra change. "How about we put Otis, Glenn, and Maggie in the two bedroom, and then T-Dog, Dale, and Andrea in the other house? They can draw straws for who takes the bunk beds."

"Been a few years since we were bunking together," Shane quips, grinning. Rick not assigning himself a place means he's decided to stay with Shane and Carl, rather than moving the boy out elsewhere. If Maggie feels like she's got to have Beth closer, they can shuffle things around, but honestly, Shane will just put Sophia on the bunk above his at that point.

Rick snorts, running a hand over his son's unruly hair. "Does he still snore like a hibernating bear, Carl?"

"Not if you throw a shoe at him when he starts," Carl states solemnly, making everyone laugh.

Maggie and Beth descend the steps in the midst of all the laughter, clinging to each other the same as Rick and Carl, and the new round of introductions and explanations gives him time to check in on Sophia and Princess. They both catch him at it and smile.

He'll just have faith that if one group survived, so will the others. His third musketeer will be just fine, and until then, Sophia is definitely not alone.


Lori isn't sure what she expected when they headed north for Columbus, but a bombed and destroyed city wasn't it. They reached it yesterday, but Daryl didn't immediately suggest leaving. She's been scavenging enough by now to understand without him telling her that an area this devoid of life probably hasn't had anyone digging through anything.

It's nightfall now, so they're holed up in a little suburban house that was just far enough out to get missed in whatever took out the city and military base. The backyard has one of those insanely high privacy fences, probably to make peeping on the inground pool harder, so they're outside. The grill these people owned is more deluxe than most kitchen appliances, making Daryl mutter and curse about more money than sense as he fiddles with foil packets.

The neighborhood had a big Methodist church that sponsored community gardens. Everything is so high end that each little garden has picturesque fencing and cute gates. Lori can imagine many a bored housewife like herself puttering about to grow a handful of tomatoes and peppers to be able to brag on social media and at the PTA about the joys of gardening.

It gave them some late season veggies that escaped the birds, rabbits, and squirrels, though, while Daryl bagged two extremely fat rabbits in one of the gardens that has rows of extremely nibbled greenery. They'll eat well tonight, and she's even got a basket of peppers and onions they can transport with them.

"Be best to head south to one of the crossings we saw were still intact," Daryl suggests as he maneuvers one of the packets onto a plate nabbed from the spotless kitchen inside. She accepts it when he passes it to her, the smell of the rabbit easier on her pregnant state than the spam they'd opened at breakfast had been. Daryl theorizes that wild game isn't all shot full of preservatives to set her stomach off.

"Yeah. No sense in looking further north when we already know where we can cross."

He sits down with his own food, still favoring his splinted arm. "Still want to try Mobile first? Could head north instead. Birmingham, maybe. It's where Morales was heading with his family, ain't it?"

Lori thinks about that last, stressful day at the quarry, still astounded that Morales would risk going off on his own with just Miranda and the kids. Granted, she and Daryl are on their own and doing fine, but they're grown adults. "Big city, though. No telling where exactly his people might be."

"Better than nothing." Daryl's already nudging at his food, impatient as he always is for it to cool enough to eat. At least he's got a fork this time, after she scolded him like he was Carl's age for burning his fingers on his good hand the other day. She'd expected him to bitch at her about it, telling her he wasn't her kid to yell at, but he'd just given her a grumpy look and taken the fork without comment. He's used one ever since.

"Yeah. It'd be nice to see Miranda again." Even if they can't find a doctor, having another woman around for the pregnancy would be nice all by itself, and Miranda's a mother herself.

Daryl's quiet through a few bites before glancing up at her in that sideways manner of his that means he's going to ask something personal. "You gonna be okay around those kids, if we find them?"

It's a caution she hadn't expected from him, so she smiles as best she can. The reminder of her poor lost boy aches something fierce, but avoiding the idea of other children makes her feel worse, not better. "I'll be fine. It'll be good to see kids, honestly."

He turns enough to look at her intensely, searching her expression to ascertain she's being truthful. She wonders if he would head in the opposite direction if she said it would kill her to see the two kids again that played with Carl for weeks at the quarry. The part of her that's getting to know him better each day thinks he would.

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Crumbling her own packet of foil, she stands, a sudden mischievous impulse making her reach out and fluff his scruffy hair. "Place still has enough water pressure for baths. Gonna go take advantage while I can."

Daryl ducks away, grumbling, but she catches the ghost of a smile at the touch. "You and your baths. Guess I'll get one later."

Seems he hasn't forgotten that she had to bathe him back at that tiny trailer to try to keep any infection away, especially from the burn he sustained. The scars she uncovered definitely tell her why he avoided being shirtless around anyone at the quarry or farm, and she remembers seeing similar on Merle, who had never been body shy. At least the grubby state he'd been in then wasn't his normal preference. She really might hose him down if it was, needing to be in close quarters while traveling.

Still, she teases him as she sets water to boil on the grill in a kettle appropriated from the house. The water out of the tap is tepid, okay for summer heat, but she wants some hot water to clean her hair. "Don't forget to use soap this time."

"Go get your bath, Olive Oyl." There's no heat to the nickname like there once would have been, making it an insult instead of a backwards sort of friendly like it is now. "No telling when you'll have a whole tub to soak in again and wash that hair."

Later, when she's carefully coming her damp hair, she eyes herself in the mirror, wondering once again if the length is worth keeping in a world where running water is no longer a guarantee. It does get in her way something awful, and while a hair tie fixes that for the most part, it doesn't help keep it clean.

Searching the drawers in the master bathroom, she finds what she's looking for and tests the stylist scissors on a tress of dark hair. The scissors snip it off easily, so she eyes her reflection resolutely and begins to cut away the signs of her old world vanity. She's a decent stylist for other people's hair, a skill picked up in cutting her mama's hair when she was younger, but she didn't usually touch her own other than to trim off split ends between trips to the salon.

Running her fingers through the short locks, she knows she forgot how prominent short hair makes her eyes and cheekbones. The woman who looks back at her in the mirror looks younger somehow, probably because Lori's not had her hair this short since high school. Cleaning up all the fallen tresses feels like she's closing a chapter she never expected to, but not in the horrific way she'd felt when Shane showed up looking like his world ended the day he evacuated. Or the even worse way she felt when Daryl stepped back in camp with those blood stained scraps of Carl's shirt.

"You ought to head to…" Daryl stops mid-sentence, eyes widening as he spies her hair, which now barely brushes her ear lobes. "Jesus Christ, Lori, I didn't mean you had to cut it all off."

He looks torn between horrified and embarrassed, and it takes her a minute to think about his teasing words earlier. When she smiles, he just looks uncertain, but that's better. "It was time for a change," she explains, running a hand over her head one more time. It feels so much lighter, without the weight of the long hair. "It doesn't look too awful, does it?"

"Looks just fine." Daryl's voice is gruffer than usual, making her look back over at him. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Not boyish like short hair does on some women."

Compliments probably are never going to be this man's forte, but Lori doesn't care. 'Just fine' from Daryl probably rates up there with Rick gushing over that little black dress she bought back when they used to try to keep things heated up and go on dates, leaving Carl with Shane for the night. Pushing away the thought, she brandishes the scissors, noticing his hair is starting to get long, compared to what it was at the beginning of summer. "Want me to trim yours?"

It's definitely a sign of his trust in her when Daryl hooks a foot on the dainty vanity chair between the sinks and drops onto it with a grunt. She grins, taking advantage to run her fingers through his hair and mess it up a bit before reaching for the comb. Maybe they're one of the oddest pairs that could have fallen together after all those months at that quarry, but being around Daryl soothes her in a way she's not used to.

His simple lack of any expectation for her at all causes it, she knows. He's never given her any of the side looks men always have, and she thinks that probably the only thing that pings her as 'female' on his radar is the pregnancy itself. He doesn't think highly of himself, but she's learned that Daryl Dixon is one of the best men she's ever known.

The least she can do for him for being her friend in a way no one ever has is to look after him as best she can, the same as he does for her.


A/N: No POVs from Glenn or Hershel in this. With the reunion, the POVs will start consolidating back down. Hershel's group is just staying hunkered down for now, being careful.