Author's Note: I think this is my favorite chapter so far ;)

"Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose

To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,

And in the calmest and most stillest night,

With all appliances and means to boot,

Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down!

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."

– William Shakespeare, Henry IV Part II

After her impromptu heart to heart with Rick, a man she barely knew but knew well enough, Georgie and Rick had both leaned back against the pew. He had leaned down to pick up his wine glass from between his boots and offered some to Georgie. She shook her head but he frowned at her and nonverbally insisted. With a smirk, Georgie caved and took the glass. Knocking back a decent sip of the bitter red wine, she made a soured expression that brought a laugh out of Rick as he took the glass back.

"Yeah, it's not great," he agreed to her unspoken opinion on the wine. And, still, he went ahead and finished the rest of the glass off.

"It's not even the fact that it's clearly cheap wine," Georgie commented. "It's the fact that this is the first time I've had alcohol in months. My palate has been used to only water for so long."

Rick held the empty glass in both his hands, resting it on his lap. He looked down at it and smiled. "Yeah, there's a lot of things we've had to get used to, ain't there?" He wasn't really looking for an answer; it was more or less rhetorical.

"My last group, that I lost about two weeks ago, there was this woman named Dana," Georgie began to recount. "She was about my age and a mother, also; she had a daughter around Carl's age, and a five-year-old son. So, Dana and I had a lot in common and I considered her my best friend, family. Well, Dana and I started this little game, kinda like what Sasha and Bob were doing this afternoon before we found Gabriel. In our game, though, it was just something we did when we woke up every morning. We would each say something we missed from our lives before, and it had to be something superficial," she gestured at Rick's glass, "like good wine, or coffee from Starbucks, or 400-count Egyptian cotton sheets."

Rick turned to face her a little, still smiling; his mind clearly trying to recall material positions from the world gone by.

"We get so focused on the life we're leading, just living day to day, trying not to worry about how much time we got left, that sometimes it was a nice, momentary distraction to think about stupid shit like that from our past. If it put a smile on our faces for three seconds, we felt like that was three seconds we added onto our life spans," she continued. Catching his eye, Georgie asked, "What's one thing you miss about the good ol' days?"

Rick chuckled, just as he noticed Sasha walking around, calling out for Bob. His smile faded slightly as he placed a hand on Georgie's shoulder and handed the empty glass back to her. "Ask me again in the morning."

Georgie turned her head, glancing over her shoulder as Sasha walked toward the back of the church, and opened one of the double doors, calling out Bob's name in a hushed voice. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed Rick had gotten up and walked over to Sasha, and then was followed by Tyreese. Getting to her feet as well, Georgie set the wine glass down on the pew and glanced in the opposite direction to see that Judith was asleep in her brother's arms; both children were safe and sound. Slipping out into center aisle, Georgie walked over to the three at the door and placed a hand on Sasha's shoulder.

"Is Bob missing?"

The other woman looked nervous. "I think he went out for some air. I didn't see him leave and he's been gone a while. I mean what if walkers got him and we didn't hear him calling for help? How do I live with myself if he's dead and I could've done something?"

"Let's not jump the gun, alright?" Rick spoke calmly.

"I gotta go look for him," Sasha insisted. "I can't sit in here and wait."

"Okay, alright," Rick nodded. "We'll do this together. No one goes off alone."

"No," she shook her head. "I gotta do this." She turned back and picked up a suppressed rifle and headed out the doors without waiting for anyone else.

Rick looked at Tyreese, throwing his hands up and Tyreese simply frowned. Rick gestured to the other weapons nearby and Georgie grabbed a flashlight from one of the pews nearest the doors. Rick passed a rifle to Tyreese who slung it over his shoulder. Rick then offered a six-inch barreled Colt Python .357 Magnum revolver to Georgie who waved it off as she unsheathed her hunting knife and showed him. With a nod, he accepted her weapon of choice and kept the Colt for himself.

"Hey, y'all," he called out to the others in the front of the church. "Not to alarm, but we're gonna head out for a few. We'll be back." He looked directly at his son. "Carl, watch Judith."

"Dad, where are you going?"

The others grew concerned and curious all the same; a few standing up.

"We got trouble?" Abraham inquired.

Rick held up a hand to signal things were fine and for them to stand down a bit. "Bob's just gone off and we're gonna try and look for him. Nothing to worry about."

"Famous last words," Eugene remarked under his breath and Georgie looked at him in time to see Rosita punch him in the arm and mutter at him to shut up.

Rick cast his eyes back toward both Tyreese and Georgie. "Alright," is all he said.

The three of them darted out of the church, making sure both doors were closed firmly behind them. They walked forward into the trees a ways before they came upon Sasha in the process bashing the head in of a walker with the butt of her rifle. Tyreese came up from behind her and covered her mouth in case his approached scared her and she screamed.

"It's me—it's me," he assured, as both Rick and Georgie appeared quickly beside him, with Georgie manning the flashlight.

When she turned to see her big brother, Sasha gasped, "Tyreese. He's getting away."

"Who?" Rick asked.

"Somebody was watching us."

Tyreese looked forward into the thicker, darker part of the woods. "If we go in there now, some of us aren't coming back."

Rick moved around them, aiming his Colt while Georgie raised her knife and pointed the flashlight in a few different directions to cast some light on those dark areas they couldn't see into.

"Bob is out there somewhere," Georgie remarked.

"Scared, alone," Sasha added.

"Maybe not alone," Georgie continued. "Carol is missing, too. I noticed she was gone earlier."

"Same with Daryl," Rick said.

Together, the four of them turned back to the church and, as soon as one of the double doors creaked open to reveal them to the others, and then shut once they were in, Sasha walked right up the center aisle to Gabriel, who looked at her and then appeared to try and putter with something.

"Stop," Sasha spoke. "What are you doing?" He had silverware in his hands and couldn't seem to find his voice. "What are you doing?" Sasha repeated more firmly. "This is all connected. You show up, we're being watched, and now three of us are gone."

"I—I don't—I don't have anything to do with this," Gabriel insisted, backing up slightly, afraid. When Sasha pulled out her knife, Gabriel jumped back even farther. "Wait!"

"Don't!" Rosita shouted, as Abraham held her back.

"Put it away," Tyreese demanded of his sister.

"Who's out there?" Sasha asked, leaning toward Gabriel.

"I don't have anything to—"

"Where are our people?!" she screamed in his face.

"Please, I don't have anything to do with this. I—"

Rick pulled Sasha back and approached Gabriel instead. "Why'd you bring us here?"

"Please, I—"

"You working with someone?"

"I'm alone. I'm alone. I was always alone," Gabriel maintained.

"What about the woman in the food bank, Gabriel? What did you do to her? 'You'll burn for this.' That was for you. Why? What are you gonna burn for, Gabriel?" Rick launched himself at the preacher and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and leaned him against the altar area railing. "What? What did you do? What did you do?!"

As Rick roughly let go and took a step back, Gabriel fumbled for his words, tears appearing in his eyes again. "I lock the doors at night. I always lock the doors at night, I always lock the doors at night," he repeated himself, forcing back the urge to cry. "I always—they started coming, my congregation. Atlanta was bombed the night before and they were scared. They were—they were looking for a safe place, a place where they felt safe." Gabriel looked around at the others looking back at him. "And it was so early. It was so early. And the doors were still locked. You see…it was my choice. There were so many of them and they were trying to pry the shutters and banging on the sidings, screaming at me. And so the dead came for them; women, children…entire families calling my name as they were torn apart, begging me for mercy." Gabriel brought his hands to his chest and began sobbing. "Begging me for mercy; damning me to hell. I buried their bones. I buried it all." He looked straight at Rick, but he was speaking to all. "The Lord sent you here to finally punish me." Dropping to the floor, he continued to sob. "I'm damned. I was damned before. I always lock the doors. I always lock the doors."

Georgie watched as Sasha sheathed her knife, deeming the situation not worth the added drama. In the back of the church, Glenn moved to one of the windows, with Maggie following behind him. Their movement drew the attentions of the others in the front of the church, who turned to look at them.

"There's something—" Glenn began, and then louder, he clarified, "there's someone outside lying in the grass."

Sasha was off immediately and Rick called after her. She whipped open the door and the others followed her as she cried out. There, in the grass, was Bob; unconscious and missing half his left leg from the knee down. However, it was bandaged up real good so the culprit couldn't have been a walker; although, walkers were just what happened to be approaching.

"Oh, his leg," Maggie gasped.

"Get Bob inside, we'll take care of them," Glenn called out, bashing in the head of one of the walkers to his left.

"Can you help me, please?" Sasha looked over at Georgie, who helped lift Bob up and carry him back into the church. "Help me. Help me."

"It's alright, it's alright," Georgie assured for Sasha's sake.

Gun shots rang out.

"Get inside!" Rick shouted. "Go!"

"I was in the graveyard. Somebody knocked me out. I woke up outside this place. It looked like a school," Bob was recalling, once he was conscious. Everyone was huddled around him where they had him lying on the floor. "It was that guy, Gareth, and five other ones. They were eating my leg right in front of me, like it was nothing; all proud like they had it all figured out."

"Did they have Daryl and Carol?" Rick asked.

"Gareth said they drove off."

Everyone exchanged looks with each other.

Georgie felt somewhat hurt by this information. Why would Carol just leave like that; without so much of a goodbye? She knew the older woman had originally agreed to help look for Tristan but, after Lizzie and Mika, had shared her feelings about leaving when they had been on the tracks to Terminus. What took them away so abruptly in the dead of night without telling anyone?

Bob tried sitting up, but gasped and struggled, as Sasha and Maggie helped him.

"He's in pain." Sasha looked back at Abraham and Rosita. "Do we have anything?"

"I think there are pill packets in the first aid kit," Rosita replied.

"Yeah," Sasha nodded.

"Save 'em," Bob spoke up, his breathing labored.

"No."

"Really," he growled, looking at her. Sitting up, he pushed his shirt off his right shoulder, revealing a bite mark that wasn't completely recent, but was still red and bleeding somewhat.

Sasha sat there stunned and Georgie sank back beside her against a pew, both looked defeated. The others, too, felt the ache in their chests over his sealed fate.

"It happened at the food bank," he explained, looking Sasha in the eye, and then laying back onto the floor when the effort of sitting up became too much for him.

"There's a sofa, in my office," Gabriel offered. "I know it's not much, but—"

Sasha looked over her shoulder at him, her gaze a complete 180 from how she had looked at him before. "Thank you."

"I got him," Tyreese spoke.

Everyone stood up and gave the burly man some berth to pick Bob up. Georgie placed a hand on Sasha's lower back and gave her a sympathetic rub before reaching her arm around Sasha's waist and turning it into a small, side hug of support for their mutual, impending loss. Both women followed Tyreese into the office with Bob, where he laid the slowly dying man down upon the sofa.

"I'm sorry," Bob mumbled, trying to mask his pain for Sasha's benefit.

"This is not your fault, baby," she insisted, crouching down beside him.

Georgie placed her hand on his forehead and smiled as warmly down at him as his skin felt. "I have a feeling you're gonna pull through this," she blatantly lied, and he knew it, but smiled back anyway. "People like us don't survive losing two entire groups to go out like this. You don't get to clock out yet, my friend. I haven't said you could."

"Well, I'll do my best, boss."

Tyreese smirked. "Boss?"

"Georgie didn't tell you? Yeah, that first group we were in together, she kinda led us; kept us sane."

Georgie smiled. "You just rest, alright?"

Bob nodded and turned his attention back to Sasha. Georgie took that moment to slip out of the office as Carl was walking inside of it, carrying a crying Judith in her Moses bed, and quietly shushing her.

"Heya," Georgie said briefly to the boy, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze as they passed each other. When she approached Rick, he turned to her.

"Does he have a fever?" he asked.

"He's just warm."

"Jim lasted almost two days before we left him," Glenn commented.

"Time for a reality check," Abraham interjected, standing back a ways with his rifle in his hands, looking like rather like some douchebag minor character who was thirty seconds away from being killed in Predator. "We all need to leave for DC right now."

"Daryl and Carol are gonna be back," Rick assured. "We're not going anywhere without them."

"I respect that, but there's a clear threat here to Eugene. I need to extract his ass before things get any uglier. So if y'all won't come, good luck to you. We'll go our separate ways." Abraham turned and began to walk off toward the door; Rosita shuffling off behind him like his obedient lapdog.

"You leaving on foot?"

"We fixed that damn bus ourselves," Abraham bit out as he turned back around to face Rick, who stomped forward.

"There are a lot more of us."

"You want to keep it that way? You should come."

"Carol and Georgie saved your life," Rick spat, referring to Terminus, getting into Abraham's face. "We saved your life."

"Well, I am trying to save yours," Abraham shouted, "save everyone's!"

"We're not going anywhere without our people."

"Your people took off."

"They're coming back."

"To what, picked-over bones?!" Abraham shouted even louder, spitting as he did so.

"You're not taking—" Rick began, poking the ginger man in the chest.

In a flurry of movement, Abraham swatted Rick away. "Do not lay hands!" he continued to shout.

"Abraham!" Rosita called out.

Georgie ran over. She'd seen plenty of men in her two previous groups get heated over plenty of things before. "Hey, hey, stop!" she shouted at them both, shoving them apart. "Now!" Georgie looked briefly at Rick before turning to Abraham and moving almost right up into his face while he maintained his gaze with Rick. "Do you really think that you're gonna be any safer leaving right now in the middle of the night?"

"Yeah," Abraham insisted, casting his stern eyes to her. "Yeah."

"What about tomorrow?" Glenn continued where Georgie left off. "We need each other for this. We need each other to get to DC. We can get through all of it together."

"I have an idea." Everyone turned their attention to Tara, who approached from behind Rick. "If you stay just one more day and help, I'll go with you to DC no matter what. Okay?"

"Glenn and Maggie, too," Abraham spoke, more calmly, as if the married couple were bargaining chips.

"No," Rick denied.

"Good luck, then. I'm not interested in breaking up what you have here. Rosita, grab your gear."

"Abraham—"

"Now," he barked. "Eugene, let's go." Nothing. "Eugene. Move it."

"I don't want to," was Eugene's response.

"Now."

"Okay," Eugene said softly, standing up and walking obediently up the aisle like a child told to go to his room without supper.

"You're not taking the bus," Rick reiterated, looking at the ground.

Abraham stopped walking. "Try to stop me."

Neither men said nor did anything for a few moments, and then Rick began to close the gap between him; a man on a mission. Everyone moved, tensing up for a brawl.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Glenn shouted, getting between the pair, just as Georgie had done. "Hey, hey, hey!" He looked up at Abraham. "You stay—you stay and help us, and we will go with you."

"No," Rick insisted.

Glenn turned and looked at him. "It's not your call." Back at Abraham, Glenn continued, "You stay, help us."

Abraham considered, and then nodded a little. "Half a day," he bartered. "Come high noon, we're taillights. I'm not waiting for the other damn shoe to drop."

"And we will leave with you," Maggie guaranteed.

"Twelve hours," Abraham said. "Then we go." Lifting up his rifle, he then walked past Rick to the front of the church.

Rick clenched his jaw, watching as Rosita, Glenn and Eugene walked off down the aisle behind him as well. He couldn't bring himself to turn and look at any of them at the moment. He was still bubbling with anger underneath the surface to the point that his hands shook a little. Georgie reached out and touched a hand to his arm and he jerked it away abruptly on instinct, his entire body tensing, before letting his shoulders sag as he half-looked at her.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He walked over to the very last pew to his right, stepping behind it and leaning the small of his back against it. He locked his legs, shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor while his dirty, somewhat curly, hair hung around his face.

Georgie paused for a moment and then stepped over to him. She walked around to stand at his right, letting her ass press against the back of the pew while she gripped the top with her hands. She stared forward at the window across from them. There was nothing to see but a few trees and darkness.

"We gotta keep level heads here," she spoke, quietly, only for his ears. "We got too much shit falling down on our heads again and losing our cool won't help any." She turned and looked at his profile. He wasn't moving to speak at all. "You really want to unnerve someone in an argument; keep a simple tone and show no emotion. It freaks people out, makes them wonder what the fuck you're up to."

"That coming from personal experience?" he finally spoke, though he was still looking down at the floor.

"Maybe," Georgie smirked and turned around to face the front of the church. She still gripped the top of the pew but now it was her front, upper thigh which she had pressed against the back of it. She leaned to her right, which was also still Rick's right, getting close to his ear. "Didn't we agree earlier we'd all be okay? What happened to that?"

"Shit happens."

"Yeah, it does," she nodded. "Don't mean you need to let it get the best of ya. Be Winston Churchill."

Rick frowned and finally lifted his head, meeting her gaze. "What?"

"Winston Churchill," she repeated. "You know…keep calm and carry on."

He turned his body, leaning his weight primarily onto his right leg while continuing to also lean against the back of the pew. "Really? Just like that? Just keep calm and carry on?" He inched his face closer toward her and tilted his head. "This ain't World War II."

"It feels like it," Georgie quipped. "The world we knew ended and we are in daily battles against both the dead and the living, and sometimes, as you and Abraham have proven, we battle each other; whether it's physically or verbally." She narrowed her eyes at him, placing her hands on her hips and taking somewhat of a power stance. "I've taken the reins of my previous groups before. I know that it's 'uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.' I know that stress and that frustration when other people don't want to play by your rules that you've set for the good of the whole. I know," she insisted, poking herself in the chest.

Rick looked down at her hand, and then looked up to study her face a bit; the wheels in his head moving. "You want the reins now? Think you'll do a better job?"

"That's not what I'm saying," she asserted. Georgie reached the same hand out and gripped his left shoulder. "I'm saying to grab those reins tight and maintain control," she clarified. "Some people are natural born leaders, Rick. You're one of them, and a good one at that. So do what you do best, but don't let it pull you apart in the process." Then as an afterthought, and with a smirk, she added, "Leave the pulling apart to the walkers. That's what they're good at."

Despite himself, Rick smirked as well. He lifted his head to look just over hers before casting his eyes back upon her face. He gave a nod of his head and took a step closer to her. "Thank you." He slapped her arm, gently. "Sometimes I need a figurative kick to the ass to get me in check."

"I'm happy to kick your ass."

They smiled at each other and the mood seemed to lighten, but only a little.

"They think they're in control," Rick was saying. "We're in here and they could be anywhere. But we know exactly where they are."

Everyone was standing or sitting around the front of the church now, gathered and cooled off from earlier. Abraham was seated on the top of a front pew, hunched forward with his feet planted on the sea and his hands folded between his knees. Rick stood front and center, at the base of the altar. Tara was at his left, loading gun, and Georgie was at his right, arms folded.

"Plan's got stones, I'll give you that," Abraham remarked.

"Make our move before they do," Georgie spoke.

Nodding, Rick looked at her for a moment. "That's right. They're not counting on us thinking straight."

"Are we?" Rosita inquired. "I'm just making sure. It's a big play."

Rick stepped forward. "Remember what these people are capable of?"

Cannibalism.

It went unsaid, but everyone was on the same wavelength.

"Tyreese."

"Yeah?"

"You up for this?"

Sasha appeared from the office. "I'm going with you."

"You should stay with Bob," her brother insisted.

"No, I want to be out there. I want to be a part of this." With that, Sasha stepped back into the office and Tyreese followed after her.

Rick turned his gaze from the siblings and briefly to Georgie, as if now somehow needing her approval to go ahead and get his weapon. It just felt strange. He'd known her not even two days, but he knew her well enough all the same. She had helped Carol save them back at Terminus, she had protected Judith and had all but declared she would forsake her own goal of finding her son and instead opt to lay her life down for both of his children. She had his back and she had the ability to rein him in, back to sanity. She had his trust, and he had hers. That's why he needed her approval, and yet it still felt a little strange.

There was something more to it that he couldn't place his finger on, but this wasn't the moment to think on it.

Rick, Georgie, Michonne, Sasha, Glenn, Maggie, Tara and Abraham exited the church, walking off in the direction of the elementary school where the Terminites had taken Bob earlier, with the intention of hunting them down.

However…

…That was the ploy.

They wanted the Terminites to think they'd left the others alone and taken most or their entire weapon power with them, to draw the Terminites in and surround them. Once they knew the bastards were inside the church, they quietly stepped out of the woods and headed back to the church. The doors had been left open, so they were able to stealthily slip inside and hide in the shadows of the entrance.

Raising his Colt, Rick shot the two men on either side of the closed office door once in the head; their blood painting the wall before their bodies fell lifelessly to the ground with the guns they'd been holding.

The other Terminites turned around in surprise as Rick demanded, in a calm and cool, but authoritative, voice, "Put your guns on the floor."

"Rick, we'll fire right into that office," Gareth informed. "So you lower your gun—"

A silenced gunshot rang out and the bullet blasted off two of Gareth's fingers. He hunched over, dropping his gun and crying out in pain.

Rick stepped out of the shadow, his Colt steadily aimed as he amended his previous demand. "Put your guns on the floor and kneel."

"Do what he says," Gareth wheezed, as the others obeyed, dropping their weapons. Except for Martin, the man from the hunting shack. "Martin, there's no choice here."

"Yeah, there is," Martin nodded.

Abraham came up from the side, rifled pointed at the cocky asshole. "Want to bet?"

While Gareth was gasping, Martin obliged. He got down on his knees, but still held onto his gun and seemed to be smirking slightly. Michonne came up the opposite side of the church as Abraham and pointed her rifle at the back of the female Terminite's head. The others still remained somewhat in the dark, except for Georgie and Sasha, who were in step with Rick, just a couple feet behind, with their own rifles aimed. However, Sasha set hers down in a pew and began picking up the discarded weapons.

Gareth turned toward Rick, who looked down at him. "No point in begging, right?" he asked with an attempt at a laugh.

"No," Rick assured, maintaining a cool and level head.

"Still, you could have killed us when you came in. There had to be a reason for that."

"We didn't want to waste the bullets."

"We used to help people. We saved people," Gareth claimed. "Things changed. They came in and—" He hunched forward and groaned in pain again. "After that…I know that you've been out there, but I can see it. You don't know what it is to be hungry. You don't have to do this. We can walk away. And we will never cross paths again. I promise you."

"But you'll cross someone's path," Rick shrugged, clicking his Colt and aiming it at Gareth's head for a moment. The younger man flinched and Rick lowered the weapon. "You'd do this to anyone, right?" His left hand suddenly went to the red-handled machete at his side. "Besides, I already made you a promise."

As Rick pulled the machete out with his right hand, Gareth screamed, but it was too late. Rick had sliced the blade right through into his head. Screaming erupted from the Terminites as their slaughter commenced.

The only inactive participants were Maggie, Glenn and Tara. They stood there too stunned by the violence to move. Michonne bashed in the face of the female Terminite, Abraham did the same to one of the men near him, Rick sliced repeatedly into Gareth's skull with blood splattering back up at him, Sasha stabbed Martin repeatedly in the neck. Then there was Georgie, who hesitated for a moment, but then dropped her rifle, unsheathed her hunting knife and slit the throat of another Terminite she had come up behind before gripping his shoulder and burying the blade deep into his skull. Twice.

After one last hack to Gareth's head, Rick turned to Georgie, who turned to him. Both were covered in blood; on their hands, their clothes and their faces. Rick seemed satisfied, while Georgie was a bit more shaken over what she'd done. While, yes, she was satisfied in having avenged her new friends for what the Terminites had put them through and for those who had been cannibalized by them as well, Bob included, she had never done anything as vicious to a living person before who hadn't physically attacked her first.

Georgie dropped her knife to the ground and shook a little. Rick reached forward; taking her bloody hand in his bloody hand and holding it tight as they looked around at the carnage.

"It could have been us," Rick said aloud to everyone.

"Yeah," Georgie agreed after a moment, but was still shaken.

Rick released her hand and holstered the machete, walking toward the office where Gabriel was standing, stunned at what he saw. Rick, followed by Sasha and then Abraham, stepped inside the office and Gabriel was even more flabbergasted.

"This is the Lord's house," the preacher remarked.

"No," Georgie disagreed, looking up at him solemnly. "It's just four walls and a roof."

With that, she walked past him and headed into the office as well.

By the time morning had broken, those that had done the slaughtering had washed most of the blood off in the church bathroom with those bars of soap Gabriel had informed he had. There was no saving Georgie's shirt, so she took it off and tossed it away, just thankful she had a second layer, a tank top, on underneath.

Bob was still with them, but barely and everyone took turns saying their goodbyes to him.

Georgie was sitting on the edge of the sofa, next to him, holding his hand in hers. "You were there at the beginning for me," she said.

"And you're here at the end for me," he replied.

"You'll always be with us; part of us." Then she added, "Part of me." Giving his hand a squeeze, Georgie stood up and walked out of the room, while Rick stayed behind with Judith. She wiped a few tears from her eyes when she was out of Bob's line of sight and reached over to Carl, placing an arm around his shoulder as they walked side by side out of the church.

A short time later, Bob had died and Tyreese put him down for Sasha before he could reanimate. Bob was buried in the church's cemetery and Sasha made his grave marker out of two sticks and string. On the road that led away from the church, not long after, most of the group stood.

Abraham handed Rick a folded up map. "This is our route to DC. We'll stick to it as long as we're able. If not, well, you got our destination," he explained. "Once Eugene gets to the big brains left up there, things are gonna bounce back. This group should be there for it. You should be there for it."

"They will be," Maggie spoke with certainty.

"We will," Georgie agreed; her thumbs hooked in the back pockets of her pants.

Rick looked back at her. "We will," he repeated with a smile.

Abraham smiled as well, and nodded to his group which was splitting off. "Let's go," he rallied, turning and walking off toward the short, white bus.

Once Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, Tara, Glenn and Maggie had piled in, the others stood back, waving or nodding goodbye.

Georgie looked down at Rick's left arm, which was resting on the railing to the steps. His fingers fidgeted and she placed her own hand over his to stop him. The gesture made him look at both of their hands and he did stop fidgeting. He raised his gaze up to her face and he smiled appreciatively.

As Michonne led Carl and Judith back inside the church, which had since been cleaned out of the bodies of the Terminites, Rick gently pulled his hand away and opened the map. Georgie looked at it with him, noting the route highlighted in red pen and a message written below.

SORRY, I WAS AN ASSHOLE. COME TO WASHINGTON. THE NEW WORLD'S GONNA NEED RICK GRIMES.

Rick lifted his head and smirked, closing the map back up.

Sasha and Tyreese had gone back into the church as well, but Georgie remained there still. Rick looked over at her and tilted his head; it was obvious to him she wanted to say something.

"What is it?"

"It's morning."

"Yeah," he looked around briefly before focusing on her again. "That it is."

"What material item do you miss from the old world?"

Rick chuckled, remembering their conversation they'd had before they'd realized Bob and the others had gone missing. "What do I miss?" he repeated, smiling. "Ahh…"

Georgie leaned against the railing and just waited for an answer with her own smile.

He looked down at himself, emitted another chuckle, and then pulled at the bottom of his shirt. "Readily available clean shirts," he finally answered.

Georgie smiled wider. "Good one."

"What about you? What do you miss?"

"Häagen-Dazs."

Rick more heartily laughed. "Yeah," he agreed with a nod of his head. "Yes, definitely that."

Placing a hand on the small of her back, he let Georgie lead the way back into the church.