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Chapter 12

Monroe's eyes slowly blinked open. He raised his hand to block out the blinding rays of sunlight streaming in though the curtains. He sat up and took in his surroundings. He was in a nice fully furnished room. There was an antique dresser with a mirror above it. He looked down at the soft bed and ran his hands over the soft sheets. He had had something of similar quality in Philly, but he hadn't expected it here. Running a hand through his hair, he swung his legs to floor. He sighed as he scrubbed at his face, trying to wake up. He had not realized how tired he had been, until he had climbed the steps the day before. He noticed a pile of clothes on a chair beside the bed. He stood up to inspect the items. He picked up a shirt out of the pile and brought it to his nose. He chuckled; it smelled clean, too clean. He thought it a shame to put clean clothes on before bathing. He shook his head before tossing the shirt back on the pile and pulling his dirty shirt over his head, then stepping out of his jeans. He was just reaching for the clean pair of jeans when there was a knock at the door. He looked at the door as the knob turned and a young woman appeared in the doorway holding a pitcher of water. Her jaw dropped in shock as she looked at him. She quickly set the pitcher down on the table next to a bowl and started to hurry out, her cheeks burning a bright red. She stopped at the door only long enough to mumble that there were washcloths in the dresser, before closing the door behind her and retreating down the hall. Monroe could only blink as the door closed. Finally shaking his head he pulled on the jeans before walking to the dresser. There were eight drawers. He rolled his eyes, she could have told him which drawer. He opened the four on the left and not finding the cloths, he started on the right. The top drawer was full of gadgets and odds and ins, obviously Joan's junk drawer. He was about to close it when an old photograph caught his eye. He picked it up and saw it was one of him, Miles, and Joan. He smiled as he remembered the day. He had paid the old photographer well for the pictures that he had taken of the capital of the Republic and his current officers. It had been only a year after Joan had joined them. He laughed as he looked at the picture. Joan had her arms around his neck and Miles was rolling his eyes next to them; they all wore smiles, genuine smiles. Hearing the door open again, he glanced in the mirror to see Joan looking back at him.

"Figured you were up from the way Mary acted." She said leaning against the doorframe casually. He noticed the smirk playing on her lips as her eyes roamed over his bare back. He turned to her, holding up the picture.

"Nice of you to keep a picture of us." He said back, watching as the smirk fell.

"Do you normally dig through other peoples stuff?" She snapped, walking to him and snatching the picture away.

"I was looking for a washcloth. Mary was in a bit of a hurry and didn't mention where they were." She returned the picture to the drawer and closed it before opening the one below it that held the linens. She turned back to him and with a glare tried to walk past him. He stepped in front of her, earning another glare.

"Don't you want to stare a little longer?" He asked with his most charming smile. She laughed.

"Don't flatter yourself, I was just wondering if the shirts would fit." She said glancing at the clothes on the chair. She laughed again as his smile faltered. "Hurry up and get dressed or you will miss the meeting." She added as she brushed past him and closed the door behind her.

Monroe closed the door behind him. He rolled his shoulders as he walked down the hall; the shirt fit perfectly, not too tight, not too loose. It also felt good to scrub some of the dirt away too. As soon as Monroe got to the stairs, he heard the raised voices of several men. He walked down them to find the living room full of men and women. Few turned to look at him but the few that did glared and scowled at him. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Joan. He saw Max engaged in a heated discussion with several other men. He saw Nahla come out of the kitchen followed by several server girls. Nahla went to stand beside Max as the servers put platters of food on a table in the middle of the room. They were soon empty as those closest devoured them. His stomach growled as he looked at the empty platters. He looked up as Joan came out of the kitchen carrying her own plate of food. She noticed him and made her way over to him. He eyed the sausage, bacon and eggs on her plate. She noticed and grabbed a few pieces of bacon before handing the plate to him. He quickly took it and began to shovel the food in. She raised an eyebrow at him as she munched at her bacon, but she didn't say anything. The door opened and several more entered, including Lily. The young girl's eyes searched the crowd before landing on Joan. She moved through the crowd to them quickly.

"Everyone's here now." She reported to her. She frowned at Monroe who was struggling to swallow the food he had been shoveling in with no drink. She grabbed her canteen and offered it to him. He gladly accepted and she took the plate, that still had two patties of sausage and several pieces of bacon on it, from him so he could drink. He chugged the water down quickly and wiped his mouth.

"Thanks." He said as they traded back. He frowned at the now empty plate as Joan chuckled beside him. He looked at Lily to see her cheeks pooched out like a chipmunk. She smiled the best she could at him as he scowled at her. He looked at Joan to find her watching Max and Nahla. When they looked her way she nodded to them. They looked at each other before nodding back.

"Alright everyone sit down and shut up!" Max yelled. They room quieted almost immediately as people sought out a seat or leaned against a wall. "Its time to start planning."

They had planned the whole day. Every plan that was brought up was discussed for hours then shot down. Apparently this Sinclair guy was holed up in an impenetrable castle with plenty of armed guards. So they still didn't have a plan and Monroe had the worse headache he had ever had. He knew the fight they were planning was not his fight. During the exchange of plans, Monroe had found his mind wandering back to the picture his had found that morning. He wanted, no he needed to find Miles. He had also been thinking about his son. It had occurred to him that Miles might have known something. He doubted Miles would have kept something like that from him but he wasn't entirely sure. Ever since he had woken up that night to Miles holding a gun on him, he had begun to think that he didn't know his brother at all. He looked over at Joan leaning against the wall not far from him and noted she didn't look any better than he felt. She glanced at him then and their eyes met.

"Why don't we take a brake and let everyone cool down?" She asked glancing over at Max. Max looked like hell warmed up. His hair was a mess from him running his hands through it in frustration. He had kept his cool the whole time, not once raising his voice in anger at the people around him. But Monroe knew it was a front; he could see the tension churning in the other man. Max nodded to her.

"Take 5 everyone." He said with a sigh. Everyone was up and filing out of the now stuffy house immediately. Monroe hung back with Joan, Nahla and Max; watching as the others exited the house. He wanted out badly but didn't think getting in the middle of a bunch of people that had been casting glares his way all day would be very smart, especially since they were really annoyed right now. "All those hours and nothing to show for it." Said Max as he ran his hand through his hair again causing it to stick up even worse. Nahla frowned and began to try to comb it down with her fingers. Monroe noticed Joan looking at him with a strange look.

"What?" He asked. She was quiet for a minute before answering.

"I have an idea." Max and Nahla looked at her expectantly. "What is the one thing that Sinclair wants?"

"We're not using you as bait." Max said dismissively.

"Not me Max. Monroe." Max glanced at him and frowned.

"How?"

"Think about it. Sinclair wants me because of what I know about the Republic. If I were to walk up to his castle they would let me in so why would that not be true for the General himself?" She said watching Monroe as she said it. Max looked deep in thought.

"No." Max said.

"Why not?" Joan asked.

"Because he can't be trusted."

"I trust him!"

"Are you really willing to risk men's lives on a plan with him at the center?!"

"Yes!"

"Well I'm not!" Max yelled back. They were now glaring at each other across the table. Monroe cleared his throat.

"It doesn't really matter cause I'm not sticking around that long." Monroe said.

"Wh-What?" Joan stuttered turning to him with a shocked expression.

"This isn't my fight Joan. I owe these people nothing." He watched her try to form words but nothing came out.

"So you're just going to leave? Just like that?" Said Nahla hotly. He turned to her in surprise. He had expected her to be the happiest, behind Max, that he was leaving. The glare she was giving him could cut glass.

"Isn't that what you want? Isn't that what all of you want?!" He snapped back. Max was watching Joan who had leaned back against the wall and now had a hard look on her face.

"Why now?" She asked looking up at him.

"I never planned to stay."

"Yes you did. What changed?" He was silent.

"Where's my sword?"

"It's Miles. Isn't it?" She asked. Monroe looked away. "Of course it is. He's the only thing you ever left me for." He thought he heard bitterness seep into her voice.

"I have to find him." He finally said.

"Do you even know where he is?"

"Someone said they saw him headed for Texas." She snorted.

"That's it? Just that he was headed for Texas?" She shook her head. "You will never find him."

"I have to try." He said sighing and turning towards the door. "It was good to see you again Joan." He walked to the door and opened it. He was fixing to step out when Joan's voice stopped him.

"Wait." She closed her eyes as she said the next part. "What if I told you I know where Miles is?" Monroe half turned.

"I would say you were lying." He said looking over his shoulder at her. Her eyes opened and she walked to him.

"And if I'm not?" She said looking him in the eye. Monroe searched her face for any sign that she was lying and found none. He turned to face her, his lips parting in surprise.

"You really do know where he is don't you?" He asked. She nodded.

"If you help us take down Sinclair, I will personally take you to him." She said sincerely.