AN: Hi everyone (or everyone who is still here). As you may have noticed, I went MIA on this story for a while. I just lost the thread somewhere, I guess. At any rate, I'm back. I'm working on planning out the rest of the story now and I'm going to keep updating here until this story is done.

That being said, I have to admit that it may take me a bit to get back in the groove here. I have to ask your forgiveness for that. Hopefully the chapters aren't too bad until I get into the swing of things.

Anyway, I'm back and we're going to see this through to the end.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

When the sign welcomed them to Virginia, they found that Virginia must have been scorched by fire since the outbreak—or at least the part of it closest to the North Carolina border had been—because the sign was nearly blackened to the point it was only partially legible and the ground around it that stretched out for a while wasn't showing signs of too much regrowth yet. Carol thought, to herself, that they might have taken the ashes as some kind of omen of what was to come, but she kept her thoughts to herself and tried to push them out of her mind as much as possible.

Crossing the scorched border into Virginia, instead of appearing to be like a portent of bad things to come, seemed to breathe new life into the group. As soon as they stepped over the imaginary line, steps got a little lighter and sped up naturally and organically. A few smiles appeared on weary faces where there was no explanation for them beyond the simple fact that they'd reached a milestone that was clearly visible to them.

It was an obvious and tangible indication that they were making progress, and it was a step further toward their goal.

The optimism was contagious. Even though Carol had thought that she wouldn't be excited to see Virginia – after all, she'd never intended to stay with the group once they reached their destination—she had to admit that even her heart felt lighter at the thought that they'd made it this far. They'd come from Georgia and they'd made it to Virginia—and no lives had been lost.

Their whole group had barely made it over the state line before Rick called out to them that they might want to start looking for somewhere to stop. The lingering proof of a long burned out forest fire—manmade or otherwise—gave a pretty good indication that they were now beggars and couldn't be too picky about where they landed for the night. There was a good chance that they had a while to travel, still, before they found anything that was even inhabitable, but they were going to take the first thing that was available to them.

The first thing available to them was a low budget motel of the kind that stretched out long and thin over the landscape like a brick snake and offered just twenty rooms to rent—most of which had probably never been filled at once. In the way of protection it offered next to nothing, and it offered very little in the way of comfort, but night was coming upon them and they needed somewhere to sleep. The whole group crowded in the lobby of the motel—a tight fit by any stretch of the imagination—to receive whatever orders Rick might have to give them.

His orders, for this night, were simple.

"This place is wide open," Rick said. "To people or to Walkers. Once we're in those rooms, we're practically on our own except for communicating through the walls. Keep any lamps low. We won't be cooking tonight. Ration your water. Tomorrow we'll try to find somewhere to restock, but it's too late tonight. If you get into trouble? The walls will probably be thin enough to get through if we have to, but we'll hope it doesn't come to that."

"And in the morning?" Tyreese asked.

"We move on," Abraham said, not waiting for Rick to respond. "We're closer now than we have been before. If we keep moving like we're moving, we'll make Richmond in a week or two."

"We keep moving like we're moving," Michonne offered, "and we'll all be dead from exhaustion and exertion."

"She's right," Daryl offered. "We gotta stop somewhere. We need time to sleep. Everyone needs to sleep. We gotta eat. Been low on water for days."

"Tonight everyone does sleep," Rick said. "There's no use in anyone keeping watch when there isn't a safe and central location available for anyone to do that. Tomorrow? We move on, but we look for somewhere we can stay for a couple of days at least. Somewhere we can catch our breaths. Scavenge for food and water."

"We've got about eighty miles to make it to Richmond," Glenn said. "We're covering around twenty miles a day on a strong day. Ten on average. Even if we slowed down a bit? We could make it in a week or a little more."

"So we make it in two and we get some rest where we can," Rick said. "There's nothing there that won't be there when we arrive in a week and a half. It's not up for negotiation. We can't keep pushing. We didn't make it this far to die of starvation and thirst. Sleep. Tomorrow we look for a place."

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

"They all disagree with me," Rick said.

"They don't all disagree with you," Carol responded. "Michonne doesn't. Daryl doesn't. I saw Maggie's face and Tyreese is tired of walking too. The ones that want to push on think that we're going to—cross into Richmond and land in some Promised Land that's—that's overflowing with milk and honey. They can't wait to get there because they can't imagine being disappointed."

"D.C. all over again," Rick offered.

Carol hummed and shimmied out of her clothes. She felt dirty and disgusting. She felt like she went with the room perfectly. Rick was no better for the wear of the past few weeks on the road. All of them could use a bath. They could use a meal that they took the time to digest before they'd burned it off. They could use a day when they didn't go to bed with aching feet that sometimes bled from the miles they'd put on them.

Rick was right. If Richmond really was the Promised Land that they were hoping it might be, it would still be there when they got there—even if they were delayed by a few days.

As soon as Carol settled into the bed, Rick rooted his way over to find her. He pulled at her, dragging her body a few inches across the mattress so that she was lying next to him. He kissed the side of her head and she hummed in the negative at him.

"I feel disgusting," she said. "I couldn't be less in the mood if I tried."

"I wasn't suggesting anything," Rick said. "Nothing more than—a goodnight kiss."

Carol smiled to herself. She turned her head and used her hands to find his lips in the dark. Reading his features like she was reading braille, she smiled again when Rick kissed her fingertips. She replaced her fingers with her lips and lingered long enough to let the kiss run its course. Having his fill, Rick pulled away from her and bounced her on the cheap mattress as he searched out a spot that he considered comfortable at her side.

"They say Virginia is for lovers," Rick offered, a little humor in his voice.

"That was back when you could turn on the faucet in the bathroom and find water," Carol said. "The only thing I'd love right now is a bath."

"And tomorrow? I'll find you one," Rick said.

Carol sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Her muscles were starting to relax and her head was starting to feel like it was swimming.

"Pretty big promises for a man who couldn't find both his boots this morning," Carol offered.

"I couldn't find my boots because you moved them after I went to sleep," Rick responded. "That's cheating."

"I was beating them off so you could have the excitement of building the mud up again instead of starting with it two inches thick," Carol said. In the darkness, Rick found the side of her face and he kissed her again. He moved, shaking the entire mattress once more, until she could feel the warmth of him against her. She turned and snuggled into him. "Do you think Carl and Judith are OK?"

"They're in with Michonne," Rick said. "I think they're as safe as they can be. Judith was asleep when I left her and—Carl'll probably stay up half the night arguing with Michonne about Aquaman or something equally ridiculous."

Carol laughed to herself.

"We could have kept Judith with us," Carol said.

Rick hummed.

"We could have, but then Carl and Michonne would have had to admit that they just like each other's company. This way? Michonne can pretend she's offering some kind of babysitting services instead of looking for a way not to be alone and Carl can pretend that he's just there to offer some comfort and support to his sister."

"Michonne doesn't mind being alone," Carol said, even though she didn't entirely believe it.

"Michonne doesn't like being alone," Rick said. "And she likes that Carl doesn't call her out on it."

"Maybe none of us like being alone anymore," Carol offered.

"You never have to be alone," Rick said. "Not anymore. Not if you don't want to."

"And you?" Carol asked.

"I hope I don't have to be alone," Rick said. "But that's really more your call than mine."

"Do you like being alone?" Carol asked.

"I never have," Rick said. "Of course, I haven't spent that much time alone either. I moved out of my house when I married Lori. The only time I was really alone was—was when I left the hospital. When I looked for her and for Carl."

Carol found Rick's hand under the cover and twined her fingers with his. In response, he tightened his own fingers around hers. She knew that finding Lori and Carl had been both a wonderful thing to Rick—the proof that there was reason in holding onto hope—and a horrible thing. It had been the beginning of the end in a lot of ways. It had been the beginning of the rollercoaster of emotions that still spun Rick out of control on a regular basis.

"I'm not going anywhere," Carol offered quietly.

"Don't," Rick said.

"Not if you don't send me away, at least," Carol said. She was mostly teasing. Rick squeezed her hand tightly in response.

"Don't," he repeated, his tone different this time.

"What do you think we'll find in Richmond?" Carol asked.

Beside her, Rick drew in a breath that she heard him release slowly. He started to speak and stopped himself twice before he committed to his words.

"We'll find something," he said. "I just—don't know what it'll be. Why? What do you think we'll find in Richmond?"

"I hope," Carol said, "that we find what everyone wants. I hope—we find Noah's family. I hope that their neighborhood is as secure as he thinks it'll be. I hope we find—everything."

"The Promised Land," Rick teased, knowing that's how Carol referred to the place that several of their group members spent their time dreaming up as they walked. Carol hummed in agreement. "Yeah," Rick said. "I didn't ask you what you hoped we'd find. I asked—I asked what you thought we'd find."

"I don't know," Carol admitted. "But after everything? I'm afraid that it isn't going to be everything we want. At best? It's the prison all over again. At worst? It's Terminus."

Rick was quiet for a moment, but then he finally spoke.

"The prison wasn't that bad," he said, seemingly choosing to ignore the mention of Terminus. "Maybe—there's some hope for a future if we can find another place like that."

"Until another Governor shows up and wants it for himself," Carol said. "Until another—plague takes us out from the inside."

"We can't think about that," Rick said. "We've got to think about the good things we can find. Not the bad things they can bring with them."

"That's what you do," Carol said. "You think about the good things. You think about what we could make. What we could build. About the little patch of peas that you could tend."

Rick laughed to himself.

"And you think about the destruction? The death?" Rick asked.

"I stay realistic," Carol said. "Grounded. I keep my eyes open."

"You keep your eyes open," Rick said, "so that they don't have to? So that I don't have to?" Carol didn't respond. She didn't have to. Rick sometimes thought she was pessimistic. Other times he agreed with her—she was simply realistic. "It's no way to live," Rick said. "Keeping your eyes open that way. Always expecting nothing but the bad."

"It's how I have to live," Carol said. "Fewer surprises that way. I can't take too many more surprises."

Rick laughed to himself.

"What would it take?" Rick asked. "What kind of—what kind of place would I have to find before you could breathe again? Let down your guard, at least a little, every now and again?"

"I don't know," Carol admitted. "I guess I'll know when we get there."

"Then that's what we'll keep looking for," Rick said. "We'll find it."

"I'd really settle for a bath right now," Carol offered.

Rick laughed again.

"That we'll find tomorrow. I promise you that," Rick said.