It took very little time for Peter and his newfound "friends" to get onto the road. Breakfast was a mere granola bar for each of them. That worked for Peter. He wasn't feeling all that hungry. Now they were outside. There was snow on the ground, but it wasn't too cold outside today. Bunny lead the group, taking the initiative to head to Munro Street. Peter hoped that they'd reach their destination soon. Bunny had told him that it wouldn't be too long of a journey.

"Gee man, wonder if Christmas is soon," Kitty commented as they trudged through the almost ankle high snow.

Lawrence tapped on Bunny's shoulder. Bunny signed something to him. Lawrence moved his hands, signing something to Kitty. Whatever it was, it made Kitty laugh.

"Course I know that," Kitty replied.

Peter wondered what Lawrence had said.

"Lawrence celebrates Hannukah," Bunny explained.

"Oh," said Peter.

Lawrence signed something else. Peter wished he knew how to sign.

"We used to live around here, all three of us. We were friends," Kitty pointed out, almost randomly.

"Lawrence thought we might as well get to know each other," Bunny added, explaining the random factoids origin.

Lawrence flashed Peter a very friendly grin. It made Peter feel a bit more safe, and so he smiled back.

"My friends are back at the house, we've been traveling together," Peter informed them.

"I bet they're great people," said Bunny.

"They are," Peter confirmed, "As are you guys. I owe you my life."

"Don't sweat it, babe," Kitty grinned broadly, stumbling a little in the snow.

"Be careful, Kitty," Bunny scolded, "We can't have you getting hurt or something."

Lawrence took a hold of Kitty's hand, as if that would insure he would not stumble again. They lulled into a silence then, traveling for about fifteen minutes until Peter noticed a clean track of footprints leading into a cluster of pines not far away. He tapped Bunny on the shoulder and pointed to them.

Bunny gave Lawrence a look and then crept forward to inspect them. Peter rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing around to see if he could see anyone. Then he spotted her. A young woman, blonde hair tied back. She had a gun holstered to her hip and her eyes went wide when she spotted Peter and his little group.

"I won't call them," she called out as she approached the little group.

Bunny, Kitty, and Lawrence glanced at Peter. Somehow they must have sensed that this was between him and the woman. Peter rubbed his hand against his pant leg.

"You're with the church?" Peter frowned.

"Yes," the woman nodded, "But I… I don't believe this is the rapture. As horrible as it is."

"Oh," Peter was unsure of what to say.

"I won't tell them I saw you. They won't bother you again," the woman added.

For a moment she and Peter merely stared at each other. Two people, each trying to survive as best they could in an unforgiving world.

"Thank you," Peter said eventually.

"God be with you," the woman replied, before walking off towards the cluster of pine trees.

Peter watched her go and wondered what her story was. Did she have family? Children? Friends? What had she been before all of this? A doctor? A teacher? Peter's thoughts were broken by Kitty bursting into laughter. He doubled over and fell down into the snow.

"Cut it out, man," Bunny snapped as Lawrence pulled Kitty onto his feet.

"Cut what out?" Kitty protested.

Lawrence's brow was furrowed, contorting his face into an expression of annoyance. He signed something at Kitty, who rolled his eyes in response.

"We should keep moving," Peter said, hands fiddling with each other and the pack on his back suddenly felt a bit heavier.

Although he did have faith that the woman would not give away his position, Peter knew it was better to get out of the area rather than risk a chance encounter.

"That's a good idea. It's harder to see infected when it gets darker," Bunny agreed.

They resumed their journey. Peter hoped that the others were back at the house by the time he arrived. Would they leave without him? Peter was doubtful but there was a singular thought that kept bothering him. Would it be better for his friends to leave him behind? So far, he had only caused them trouble. It was his fault that they were attacked. If George ended up dead, that would be his fault too.

A heavy feeling settled in his stomach and in his forearms. It felt as if he were carrying this heavy shroud that weighed down on those two areas. Peter rubbed his thumb against his index finger, pushing that thought out of his head as best he could. If only Micky or Davy were here. They'd know what to do.

Lyn sat with Mike in the backseat. The young girl had sidled up to Mike's side. He had his arm wrapped around her so that she could lean her head against the side of his chest. In the front, Micky and Isaac were quiet. Mike wondered what they were thinking. A part of him felt like he had failed his friends. He had reached his breaking point and under the pressure, his will to lead had caved in.

"Hey, Mike?" Lyn spoke up.

The Texan felt his heartbeat speed up and his body tensed. Why, he wasn't sure.

"Yeah?" Mike said.

"Wanna hear about my dream?" Lyn inquired.

"Sure, babe," Mike felt himself relax.

What had he anticipated Lyn to ask?

"I dreamt that there was this, like, really pretty house. Not my house, but as big as mine. And you and Davy and Heather were there, and we were eating breakfast. It was pancakes and bacon. Mom used to make that for me all the time. When she was alive," Lyn began.

Mike felt Lyn's hand grab onto his, intertwining their fingers.

"Anyways, after we finished eating, Davy cleaned up. And then you and me and Heather, we went outside and there was this big lake. We went swimming and there were really pretty clouds in the sky," Lyn continued.

Mike waited for her to say more, but she didn't. Mike gently squeezed Lyn's hand.

"That sounds like it was a mighty fine dream, Lyn," Mike commented.

"Yeah, it was," Mike could hear the smile in Lyn's voice.

Mike glanced out of the window. A couple of feet away he spotted an infected. It was gazing upwards at a tree, arms limp at it's sides. Mike squeezed Lyn's hand again. Micky could take over leading for a bit, that was fine by Mike, but he wouldn't stop keeping an eye out for those he loved. He wouldn't let anything hurt his family.

Heather sat outside on the porch, her feet kicking the snow beneath. Davy sat next to her, coat wrapped tightly around him in order to keep him warm. After they had finished their business in the house, they had decided to wait until sunset before heading back to Ronda and George. Already they had waited for a few hours. Davy guessed that in another three or four, they'd have to head back.

"I think the infected are dying off," Heather commented.

Davy glanced at her, a frown furrowing his brow.

"Hmm?"

"I think the infected are dying off," Heather repeated, her eyes focused on her feet.

"What makes you say that?" Davy queried.

"Well, last March, when the infection first was going around, the creatures were everywhere," Heather explained, "You couldn't step two feet without attracting one of the damn things."

Davy felt an odd guilt stir in his chest. Nearly from the start of the infection, him and his friends had holed themselves up. It had worked, yet he wondered briefly if that made him and his friends cowards.

"But as the year went on, Ronda and Isaac and I stopped having to deal with the infected. Now, we hardly have to deal with. I mean. It's not like it was in the beginning. So where are they all going?" Heather finished.

It did make sense to Davy. Heather did have a point. It was very unusual for them to encounter a lot of infected in one area, or any infected at all.

"You've got a point," Davy agreed.

"Though you could argue that since there aren't enough people around to get them all excited and ragey, with nothing for them to infect, they just sort of laze around in one spot," Heather added, almost as an afterthought.

"We're going to be okay, Heather," Davy reached out and placed his hand upon Heather's shoulder.

"The world's ending, Davy, if it hasn't already. I'm not sure things can be okay. The world will never go back to how it was," Heather sighed.

"You've gotta have hope," Davy pointed out.

Heather reached her hand up to touch Davy's. She didn't say anything, but Davy understood that she was trying. He knew it must be hard. It was hard for all of them. His thoughts wandered to George then. It was going to be hard to tell George about Tara. It was going to be hard to see him grieve. It was going to be hard to bury Tara.

"Davy, there's something coming. A car. Do you hear it?" Heather broke Davy's train of thought.

Davy listened and sure enough he could hear a car coming up the road. He stood and Heather did the same.

"Let's hide in the house, peek out the front window, in case it's someone who means us harm," Davy suggested.

"Okay, sounds good," Heather nodded.

The duo retreated back into the house, shutting the front door and peeking out over the edge of the vertical, rectangular windows that were on either side of the door. Davy was torn with hope and dread. He held his breath for the minute it took the Monkeemobile to pull into the driveway and come into view.

"It's the others," Davy exclaimed, although his words were lost to Heather.

She opened the door as Davy was speaking, bolting out of the house and towards the car. The doors to the car opened and Isaac stepped out of the driver's side just in time to be barreled into by Heather. Isaac wrapped his arms around Heather and almost out of nowhere, Lyn appeared out of the car. She went right over to Heather, excited to see her cousin alive and well. Davy was relieved to see Lyn and Isaac safe but his true joy came from the sight of Mike and Micky coming towards him.

"I'm so glad you two are okay," the Englishman exclaimed, meeting his friends halfway.

Almost immediately, Davy found himself in Mike's arm. Mike squeezed him, nearly knocking the wind out of the smaller man. In a moment, Mike released Davy and, although a touching moment, Davy wondered if Mike was alright. He made eye contact with Micky and without a word both men knew they needed a brief private council. Before Davy could figure out a decent excuse to talk to Micky alone, Heather called Mike over. Mike glanced over at her and then turned back to Davy.

"Go on," Davy grinned, tilting his head in indication that Mike should go say hello.

Mike nodded and then went over to where Isaac, Lyn, and Heather were. It was only a foot or so, but it was as good as Davy was gonna get. He stepped closer to Micky.

"Are the others okay?" Micky asked.

Davy felt his heart speed up. He needed to just stay calm.

"No. Sort of," Davy admitted, "I… Tara's dead, she died protecting George. But George got hurt pretty badly. He's healing though. I think he'll make it. Thank god Isaac's here. But… Ronda, Heather, and I, we were carrying George and trying to run away from the guys. And he was… in bad shape, he needed help then but we couldn't stop, so Peter decided to lead them off. Lead them away from us."

"But he's okay?" Micky frowned.

"He hasn't come back yet," Davy replied.

Davy saw Micky's body tense. The drummer shut his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"We'll have to break that to him gently. Mike won't like that. He'll be worried out of his mind," Micky finally said as he opened his eyes.

"What happened?" Davy asked, "Why's Mike all… quiet, I guess is the best word?"

Micky glanced over towards Mike. Davy waited for his answer, wondering if he truly wanted to know.

"Mike's alright, man. I mean, I think he is at any rate," Micky chewed on his bottom lip, "But he killed two guys in order to protect Lyn. Think that got to him a little."

Davy felt his stomach leaden and his arms felt a little chilled. He knew how Mike might feel right now, but only by the tiniest comparison.

"That's heavy," Davy mumbled.

"Yeah, but he'll be okay. I mean, he's Mike after all," shrugged Micky, although Davy got the impression that Micky didn't believe everything he was saying.

"Sure, mate, I'm positive Mike'll be fine. We're all gonna be fine," Davy reassured Micky.

Micky smiled appreciatively at Davy before saying, "We'd better let Isaac know about what's up."

"Yeah, he should head back with Heather as soon as he knows because I'm sure Ronda would like to know about you guy's coming back and would love for Isaac to check out George," Davy agreed.

Micky called Isaac over. He left Mike with Lyn and Heather, quickly coming over to see if something was the matter. Davy informed Isaac of what had happened since they had been split up. Davy watched the older man grew teary eyed and instinctively hugged Isaac when he began to cry. The moment was brief, since Isaac agreed that knews of Tara's death would have to be broken lightly to both Lyn and Mike. And it was also agreed upon that Peter's absence was to be kept quiet until that evening.

"I have hope he'll be round before dinner," Davy admitted, feeling a bit foolish.

Yet, Micky, Mike, Isaac, and Lyn were now back with the group. So who was to say Peter wasn't just around the corner?

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," Isaac offered Davy a small smile, "For now, let us say that Peter went out to look for us, if anyone asks. That will buy us some time, and isn't far from the truth."

"Sounds good," Davy agreed.

"Are you sure we should lie to Lyn and Mike? I mean… I dunno, guys, I mean I get it, but it just doesn't feel right. They should know what's going on," Micky piped up, scuffing his shoes in the dirt a little.

"Mike'll freak out, Mick, if we tell him Peter ran off being chased by people who want to kill him," Davy pointed out.

"I know… I just feel bad, is all. I don't think it's right to keep secrets from each other," Micky felt uncomfortable.

Davy could tell that Micky really didn't want to lie to Mike, and Davy guessed that was his main hang up. Lying to Mike. But it was what had to be done. To spare Mike pain. Or worry. Maybe both. Wasn't that the right thing to do? Davy thought so and Isaac agreed.

"We'll tell him once Peter's back with us, safe and everything. Okay, man?" Davy said, trying to reassure Micky that this was the right thing to do.

"Okay, sure," Micky nodded his head.

"Good," said Isaac, "Davy, I think you should be the one to tell them about Tara and about going back to this other house."

Davy took a deep breath. Of course he had to be the one to do it, but he didn't want to. Who else could have done it? Heather could have, but Davy wouldn't put her through that. It was up to him. He, Micky, and Isaac wandered closer to the little circle that Mike, Lyn, and Heather were forming.

"I'm glad we're all back together," Davy started, and it felt weird.

It felt odd to address this many people, as if he were the leader or something. It felt like he was about to launch into some sort of speech. He certainly wasn't about to launch into anything close to a speech. Speeches were feel good, moral boosting.

"Ahem" Davy cleared his throat, "Sorry, um, okay. Well, certainly some things have happened since we last were together and I… When we were attacked, George and Tara got cornered and Tara had to protect her little brother. And so… she got shot. And died. Tara's dead. But George was only injured. And now that Isaac's here, George will be completely better in no time."

Davy wanted to be sick again. He was always feeling sick. His legs felt weak and his arms were like cooked spaghetti, or at least that's how if felt to Davy. As he spoke, Lyn had started to cry and Heather took the younger girl into her arms. Even Isaac had tears in his eyes again. Mike stood motionless and Davy thought Micky looked much older than he was.

It didn't occur to him how well he and Ronda and Heather had taken Tara's death. Or maybe Davy was thinking this only because it had just been the three of them and now there were four others, one of them barely a teenager.

"We'll have to bury her," Mike stated.

"We will, but not today," Heather informed him.

Davy's palms began to sweat. He knew what would come next. Mike, or Lyn, would ask why and Heather would tell them that Peter isn't back yet. That would lead to Mike, or Lyn, asking where Peter was. And then Heather would let the cat out of the bag.

"It is quite late," Lyn sniffled, "I think it'd be prettier in the daytime anyway."

"Isaac, you, Lyn, and I should head back to the other house. Ronda will want to say hello and also want some help with George, or a second opinion... or whatever," Heather shrugged.

"Shouldn't we all head back?" Lyn frowned.

"Peter isn't back yet," Heather replied, "Someone has to wait for him."

"Where's Peter?" Davy could hear the slight panic in his voice.

"He went out looking for you guys. Along the road. You must have missed him," Davy immediately blurted, "It… he can't get infected so he thought it best if he went alone to just see if he could see you along the road. He'll be back soon."

Davy could feel Micky's eyes on him.

"Oh…," Mike's body relaxed and he reached up to adjust his wool hat, "Then we'll wait for him. Y'all go on ahead."

The Texan smiled at Lyn and gave her a quick side hug.

"Come on, Lyn, they'll be right behind us," Heather said, taking Lyn's hand.

A few minutes later, it was just Micky, Mike, and Davy. Micky pulled the Monkeemobile into the garage so that it would be in a relatively secure area. Then the trio went and sat on the porch.

"How've ya been, Davy?" Mike asked as soon as they had settled.

"I don't sleep much," Davy admitted.

"Neither does Mike," Micky added.

"I sleep," Mike protested.

"Not enough," countered Micky.

"That'll change. Just once we're all safe back at the pad," Mike sounded almost like a child to Davy.

"We'll have to head back as soon as the weather clears. Are the roads bad?" Davy asked.

"Unless we get another foot of snow around here, we should be able to drive through it," Micky answered, "And even then, if we find a mechanics shop, I probably could rig up the Monkeemobile so she could drive in the snow a bit better."

"She's held up nicely, our little car," Davy agreed.

There was a lull in the conversation then. A minute passes. Then two.

"Did you see Tara die, Davy?" Mike spoke up, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Davy replied, "I… couldn't do anything to help her. There wasn't anything anyone could have done."

"You did the best you could. I mean, you saved George. That's all Tara ever wanted," Micky pointed out.

"George doesn't know yet," Mike stated.

It wasn't even a question, Davy knew that.

"No, he doesn't know yet. He needs to heal. He got hurt pretty badly," Davy said.

"We've come a long way, haven't we?" Micky's rhetorical question seemed odd to Davy.

"What'd ya mean, Mick?" he asked.

"I mean, look at us. Just a year ago, we were struggling for work, living off of our meager earnings from gigs. We chased girls and had fun. Now we're here. One of us dead. Another injured. We've been through so much," Micky shrugged, wishing not for the first time that he had a drink in his hand.

A beer or something. Davy watched the drummer lean back against the side of the house. They were sat cross legged on the porch, backs against the side of the house.

"We ain't changed," Mike countered, "It's the world that's changed."

Micky made a grunting noise. Davy was unsure whether it meant he agreed or disagreed.

"Heather thinks the infected are dying off or something," Davy informed them.

"Bull," Mike spat, "This thing ain't ever gonna die out."

"I dunno, mate. She says it's been a few months since she's last seen a large number of infected," Davy shrugged, "She keeps a calendar. Our birthday's coming up, Mike."

"We should celebrate!" Micky exclaimed, throwing his arms wide.

Davy smiled at that. He'd missed Micky's spontaneous enthusiasm. Even in such hard times, Micky always found some way to goof off or be funny.

"I was thinking the same thing," Davy grinned.

Peter had learned much about Lawrence, Kitty, and Bunny. Lawrence had been born deaf and had struggled in school. But he had managed to make it through and had been attending college to become a teacher. Lawrence, Kitty, and Bunny had all been childhood friends. Kitty was a mechanic and Bunny worked as a waitress. None of them had spouses or children. In return, Peter told them about himself and his friends. About the Monkees and California and gigs. Talking about his friends and the pad made him feel rather homesick.

Now they were almost at the house. Peter knew because they were following the road that lead to the house. He'd walked this same road with his friends before, on patrols or just a looksee at other houses to see if they had any supplies left in them. It was getting dark and the foursome were moving quite quickly, on no one else's insistence but Peter's own. If anyone was waiting for him, they'd only still till sundown.

They might have even left already.

The house came into view and Peter squinted a little. Davy, Mike, and Micky were sitting on the porch. It was almost as if Peter were dreaming. He motioned for Bunny, Kitty, and Lawrence to stay behind him. Then, Peter and his new found friends moved into view. Before Peter could say even a greeting, his three friends were on their feet and bolting towards him. Then they stopped and Peter knew they were already ready to act in the name of protection.

"These guys are with me, they saved me," Peter informed his three friends as they approached.

Mike narrowed his eyes, but the gaze wasn't directed towards Peter. Rather instead it was directed towards Davy.

"Saved you?" Mike repeated, "Thought you said Pete was out looking for us, Davy."

"If you had known I let him run off, it'd just…," Davy shrugged.

"Let him run off?" Mike repeated.

"George was bleeding out. I needed to give them time to help him," Peter piped up, "So I lead the bad guys away. I gave them time."

Peter saw Mike's jaw clench. What had happened? Peter found himself very confused. Davy looked so tired, Mike looked sad, and Micky looked anxious. What had happened to his friends?

"Is George alright?" Peter asked after a moment.

Despite his gnawing questions about his friends, Peter did need to know that George had made it. Davy seemed relieved that Peter had brought up the subject.

"George is fine. With Isaac here, I'm sure he'll be back on his feet in no time," Davy offered Peter a small smile.

Peter let out a long sigh. He felt so relieved to know that George had made it. It almost made him want to cry from relief.

"I'm so glad," Peter said and then reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck, "Well, um, anyways guys, this is Kitty and Bunny and Lawrence. They helped me out of a bind."

"Hello," Bunny waved, "Um, yeah, well it wasn't much. We patched Peter up, after a bullet grazed his shoulder. He really would have been fine, even without us."

Peter watched Mike close his eyes. His nostrils flared and then he turned his back to Peter, walking towards the house. Peter's brows knitted together into a frown.

"Thank you for helping our friend. I'm Davy, this is Micky, and that's Mike," Davy greeted.

"We should go back to the new place," Mike called over his shoulder, "It'll be dark soon."

Davy nodded. There was an odd silence then as Davy took charge and started leading everyone towards the new house, the temporary one. Eventually, Davy started talking with Bunny, Kitty, and Lawrence, who were up front with him as he lead the way. Mike walked by himself in the middle, since Micky and Peter were bringing up the rear.

"What happened? Why did Mike get upset?" Peter asked, his voice kept low enough so that Mike wouldn't overhear.

"Davy told us you just went out looking for us. Not that you put yourself in danger," Micky explained, "But Mike's just dealing with stuff. He's not really upset with Davy or you or anyone."

"Is he okay?" Peter wondered.

"He's just dealing with stuff," Micky shrugged.

"What stuff?" Peter pressed.

"He… killed two guys to keep Lyn safe," Micky replied, hesitating for a moment, "That kinda stuff."

Peter felt his stomach drop a little. Tara had died because of had been his fault. And now Mike's actions were Peter's fault as well. The bad guys had followed him, it had all been about him. Without him, his friends would be okay. Mike wouldn't have had to kill anyone. It was all his fault.

"I know how he feels," Peter mumbled.

"What?" Micky asked, a bit too sharply for Peter's liking.

Peter felt his skin prickle. Was Micky upset with him? Micky already seemed worried about Mike and probably Davy too. The last thing Micky needed was to have to worry about Peter on top of that.

"I just… I can imagine how Mike's feeling right now, that's all," Peter shrugged, not wanting to make things worse for Micky.

"We can all, I guess," said Micky.

Peter couldn't read his facial expression. Peter didn't know what Micky was thinking. This made Peter feel uncomfortable. He always could tell what his friends were thinking. Micky glanced at him.

"Just, stay strong, okay, Pete," Micky continued, "I mean, I already got Mike falling to bits on me and who knows what's gonna be up with Davy. Wanting to lie to Mike, I just… we'll all get through this but. I just feel like things are gonna get weird because we're all trying to deal with death."

Peter thought that his socks were too wet for a conversation like this. He wondered if he could get warm socks. Warm his feet up. He missed the pad. It was all his fault, that's all he could keep thinking. They continued to walk in the snow, the sun setting down and casting the group in a slowly darkening light.

"I'll try, Micky," Peter promised after a moment, "I'll try."

Author's Note: Hey guys! Thank you for reading yet another chapter of this fic! I really hope you enjoyed it and feel free to leave a comment on your thoughts. I'm hoping to put up another chapter soon because I'm on a short holiday break which means that I'll have some spare time to write. No promises, but I am hopeful. Thank you to everyone who's read this so far and has left a comment. Every one of you means so much to me. A quick update on the progress, just for those of you wondering, this fic is in it's final stages. We're on the home stretch! But that doesn't mean I don't have a few surprises planned. Please stay tuned for more and have a wonderful day!