"What was the point in askin' her all that stuff?" Daryl asked as he pulled down the door of the truck. "Makin' her scared?"
"You know the point," Sinclaire answered, slightly surprised at his tone. "She's the only one with inside information about this Governor guy and-"
"And ya were rough on her," he cut in. "And I told ya not to-"
"You told me not to?"
"Yeah."
She crossed her arms. He crossed his. They stared at each other for a long moment.
"Look," Sinclaire said finally. "I get that you're feeling...protective. But that doesn't mean that I can go easy on her."
"Protective? I ain't fuckin' protective!"
"Oh come on! I know how you feel about her!"
"I don't...ya jealous?"
Sinclaire laughed. "Of you and Marie? Why would I be?"
"'Cause I know how ya'll women get! Ya think that 'cause I'm with you-"
"You're not with me."
Daryl stopped in mid sentence and stared at her. "The hell ya talkin' about?"
"We're friends, Bowhunter. And you know that. Just because we-"
"Just because we..." he paused and then barked out a laugh. "So this is what ya do with your friends?"
"You know that's not true." Sinclaire was surprised by how hurt she felt by the tone of his voice.
"Hell, what do I know? Thought ya were gonna fuckin' listen when I said to leave Marie the hell alone. Thought we had somethin' different than what we got..."
"You did not! Bowhunter, you don't want me and you know it!"
"What?"
"You have a thing for Marie, for God's sake!"
"I do not!"
"You do!"
Daryl opened his mouth and then closed it. He wasn't sure what to argue, he just knew that he wanted to. Then he got up and opened the truck door, stepped outside, and closed the door in Sinclaire's face.
Sinclaire leaned against the back of the seat and sighed. She wasn't wrong and she knew it. He didn't love her any more than she loved him. Things had just gotten tangled up the way they always did when sex was involved and, unless she missed her guess, she might have just lost a very good friend.
Suddenly annoyed, she scooped up Zeke and stomped over to the bar. She yanked open the door and walked down the hall to Merle's room.
"Who spit in yer cornflakes, Yank?" he asked in surprised.
"Your brother," she said, flopping down onto the air mattress beside his.
"Ya'll break up?"
"We were never together!" she shouted.
"Are you okay?" Glenn asked tentatively through the wall.
"Back off, Chinaman," Merle called back good naturedly. "I got this."
"As long as its in good...hand," Glenn replied.
"Smart ass," Merle muttered, but Sinclaire saw his grin. "So, what'd my brother do to ya?"
"Nothing. I mean, not...God. None of this is his fault. But hell, it's not my fault either. I thought that we could be friends and work out the issues and-"
"Issues?" Merle asked. "That what ya'll was doin'?"
Sinclaire threw up her hands. "I thought so."
"I got a question."
"Go for it."
"Why'd ya pick him to...ya know. Work out yer issues with?"
"Do you think I made a mistake?"
"Think yer avoidin' the question. Like always."
"I just thought...that with him...it would be so different that it wouldn't hit any of the triggers. I never meant to hurt him." Sinclaire sighed and curled herself into a ball on the mattress, facing Merle.
"Don't think ya did," Merle said honestly. "Maybe his pride a little bit. Hell, he can't take his damn eyes offa Marie."
Sinclaire smiled a bit. "She does the same thing. They'd be cute together."
"Ya talk like that an I feel like I'm at a goddamn slumber party."
"We could have a pillow fight."
"Only if ya take off yer pants."
"Taking off my pants has only led to trouble. No more pants taking off. From now on, I'm celibate."
"I don't know what that mean, but I don't think I like the sound of it."
"It means I'm sworn off sex."
"That's crazy. Ya just got back on sex."
"How do you know?"
"Ya used to be wound tighter'n ya are now. Figure fuckin' my brother loosened ya up."
Sinclaire made a face. "Well, let's just make it sound as unattractive as possible."
"Tell me what yer issues were."
"What's the point of dredging it all up?"
"I wanna know."
She laughed. "At least you're honest."
"Come on. How long we known each other? Ya can't carry stuff like this around yer whole life. Fucks ya up."
"Okay. How about this?" Sinclaire asked. "A secret for a secret."
"Don't have no secrets."
"I call bullshit."
Merle thought deeply. "Think ya probably already know most of the shit about me. Drugs. Whores. Fights. Dishonorable discharge. Jail."
"I guess that's true," she said in surprise. She'd learned all those things along the way, piece by piece and yet she would still trust him with her life.
"So what's yer problem? Ya already know all my secrets. Spill some of yers."
"My problem is that I hate talking about it," she answered. "And I hate the way people look at me once they know."
"Yank."
She looked up and met his gaze.
"Ain't never gonna look at ya different than I do right now."
She wanted to smile, but instead her lips went all wobbly so she gave it up. She cleared her throat and sat up. Then she stood up. Then she sat down beside Merle and wrapped her arms around her knees.
"My dad died when I was 8," she said quickly. "My mom remarried when I was 11. My stepdad raped me from the time I was 12 until the time I was 13. I got pregnant. There were complications...the baby died. I hemorrhaged on the operating table. They gave me a complete hysterectomy. Mick..." she swallowed the bile that always rose in her throat at his name. "Went to jail. My mom...she couldn't take the guilt really. She started numbing it with pills. OD'd when I was 17 so I joined the Army. There you go."
Merle felt like he'd been suckerpunched. "Jesus Christ."
Sinclaire closed her eyes at the disgust in his voice. She wrapped her arms more tightly around her legs so that she wouldn't shake. She didn't dare look at him. If the look had changed she would throw up. That would probably be good revenge, but it would be humiliating. Suddenly she felt his arm around her, yanking her against his side. Off balance, she toppled against him.
He lowered his head, resting his chin on her thick, dark hair. "I thought maybe somebody fuckin' roofied ya or some shit. I didn't know it was nothin' like that. Christ, I hope he died slow and painful."
"You're not grossed out by me?"
"Fuck no! Why the hell would I be?"
"I don't know!" Sinclaire was so relieved that she laughed. Then she started to cry. She cried until she couldn't breathe, until the shoulder of Merle's shirt was soaked. Then, when she was done, she realized that he hadn't said anything. All he'd done was hold her tightly. All he'd done was let her cry. All he'd done was exactly what she'd needed.
She had no idea how to handle it. "You know what we should do?" she said suddenly.
"What?"
"We should start loading up the truck."
"Right now?"
"Yeah. Yeah, we totally should. Let's go. Let's do it."
Merle only followed her because the shaky smile she gave him was fucking adorable, but he did feel better when the truck was loaded with a good bit of canned food, several big jugs of boiled water that they'd been stockpiling, and pillows, blankets and sleeping bags.
"Can we finally go to sleep now, Yank?" he asked when they'd heaved the last of the food into the back of the truck.
"I was kind of thinking that we should put some stuff in your car too," she said, glancing around. "And maybe we should find your brother."
"He'll turn up in the morning," Merle said. "He does shit like this."
Sinclaire was up with the sun, hoping to talk to Nate. She walked into the bar kitchen, tucking her hair behind her ears.
"Seen Nate?" she asked the room at large.
"He hasn't come back yet," Andrea answered. "Where's all of our stuff, anyway?"
"A lot of it is in the box truck," Sinclaire answered. "Some of it is in Merle's Subaru."
"Why?"
"Oh, right you haven't heard. We're leaving."
"Who made that decision?" Lori asked from behind her.
"A few of us," Sinclaire answered pleasantly. "Rick, Merle, Daryl, me."
"Shouldn't we talk about it?" Andrea asked.
"We're going to talk about it," Sinclaire answered. "When Nate gets back."
"So what's the deal with you going ahead and loading everything up?"
"The deal is that we're probably going to have to move on and it's better to get it done than not." Sinclaire hadn't really expected to butt heads with Andrea over this. Truthfully, they hardly ever spoke to each other. Andrea hated Merle and while the dislike didn't exactly extend to Sinclaire, she certainly didn't seek her out.
"Does Rick know that you packed up?" Andrea asked.
"Considering that he had the watch last night and I walked past him about fifty times when I was loading the truck, yeah, I'd say he does. If you've got a problem with it, maybe you should have a chat with him." Maybe it wasn't fair to force this on Rick, but as far as Sinclaire was concerned, he was her CO.
"I think I will." Andrea headed out.
Sinclaire sighed. The day wasn't exactly going well. Merle came out of the room, rubbing his hand over the stubble on his face.
"What's goin' on?"
"Just the usual state," Sinclaire answered with a shrug.
Sophia walked by, looking worried.
"Hey," Sinclaire said. "Do me a favor, okay, Soph?"
"Sure!"
"I want you to go back to your room and pack up."
"What's wrong?" Sophia asked.
"Nothing's wrong. I just like to be prepared. If you see Carl, tell him to do the same thing."
Sophia nodded and hurried away.
"What ya say we track down my little brother?" Merle asked.
"Yeah, I think that might be good actually." Sinclaire walked out to the truck, pulled her vest on, made sure her guns were loaded with what precious little ammo there was, and then pulled her Army hat on slightly to the side as she grinned at Merle.
"Ready?" he asked, pushing his gun down into the back of his waistband.
"Yep. You're not worried are you?"
"Shit. You know I don't do that."
"What was I thinking?" Sinclaire asked sardonically as they headed down the stairs.
Nate was in the yard talking to Rick and Andrea when they walked out, so Sinclaire jogged over to listen to the conversation.
"Where are you headed?" Rick asked.
"We thought we'd go track Daryl down," Sinclaire answered. "Is this all cleared up?"
"I still think that you could have asked us," Andrea said, but she sounded more level about it now.
"So, are you going to finish loading up?" Sinclaire asked.
Rick nodded. "Yeah. We'll meet up back here in two hours."
"Or less," Sinclaire said with a nod as she let Zeke perch on her shoulder. "I think I know where to look anyway."
She and Merle headed off into the woods quickly.
"Treehouse?" he asked.
She nodded. "Seems like a likely place."
"Morning!" Marie called down when Sinclaire called up into the treehouse. "Come on up!"
"Daryl with ya?" Merle asked instead.
"Whatcha want?" Daryl asked, leaning out.
"Whatcha think, dumbass? Come on, we're gettin' ready to leave."
"Already?" Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and tossed the ladder out. "Go on, darlin'," he said to Marie.
"Thank you, kind sir," she said with a smirk as she headed down the ladder.
"Darlin'," Merle said in an undertone.
"What do you call girls you like?" Sinclaire asked just as quietly.
"Sweetheart."
"Clearly a better choice." She nodded sagely and he pushed her, making her stumble and laugh.
"Where are we going to go?" Marie was asking when they heard gunfire from the camp.
Marie's hands flew to her ears as color drained from her face. Daryl pulled her against him as a piercing scream rang out. Sinclaire drew her gun and glanced around. A lot of noise might very well draw another herd of zombies and clearly they had big enough problems back at the camp.
She glanced at Merle and he nodded toward the back way to camp. "Over there. We'll go in near the river."
She agreed so she started to move. Marie didn't.
"I...I can't," she whispered, shaking her head so frantically that her hair stuck to her tear streaked face. "I can't, I can't, I can't."
"Hell, we can't just leave ya here," Daryl protested.
"Yes you can! I'll be fine! I'll stay in the treehouse-"
"Deer stand," Daryl corrected reflexively.
"Good God, Bowhunter," Sinclaire said. "Marie, man up."
"What?" Marie asked, momentarily shocked out of her fear.
"I said man up. And I meant it. People could be dying back there and we've got to do something about it."
"What can I do?" Marie demanded.
"You can come with us so that he's not distracted and worried about you," Sinclaire said, pointing at Daryl as she zipped Zeke into her vest and prayed that he wouldn't claw her up too badly. "I ran once when people needed me. I'm not doing it again."
She didn't wait for an answer, but she heard Marie follow her as she started walking away. Thank God she still had a semblance of a commanding presence when she needed one. There were more gunshots at the campsite and, when they finally got close enough to see what was happening, Sinclaire felt her mouth drop open.
"Jesus Christ," Merle said from her right. "A fucking tank?"
"It's him," Marie whimpered as a tall man walked into their line of sight. "The Governor."
"Fuck," Sinclaire whispered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"That 'bout covers it," Merle agreed.
Sinclaire realized that she had no idea what she needed to do. The Governor's men were everywhere, rounding people up, setting fire to the bar...her fists clenched in rage. That bar had been home.
Marie gasped and Sinclaire saw Daryl put his hand over her mouth before she could make any more noise. Sinclaire followed her gaze and saw Lori on the ground. She was completely still.
"Oh my God," Carol gasped from behind them. "You're here!"
"You're here too," Sinclaire breathed in relief when she saw Nate, Carol, Sophia, and Carl. "Okay. So what the hell is going on?"
"He showed up almost right after you left," Nate said, speaking quickly. "Lori's dead, Dale was wounded, but I don't know how badly. Andrea made it to a car."
"That bitch stole my car?" Merle demanded.
"So, Lori, Andrea, and Dale are out of the picture. We're here...Rick?"
"And Preacher Man?" Daryl asked. "Glenn? Carrie?"
Nate shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."
"Take him," they heard the Governor shout. "Her too."
That answered one question. Glenn was thrown unceremoniously into the back of Sinclair's box truck. Carrie was tossed in after him, her wails muffled by a gag.
"There's too many," Nate said, when Sinclaire moved forward. "We've got to go."
"We can't go!" she hissed.
"You want to end up like them?"
Sinclaire pushed her hands through her hair. "Okay. We've got to get them to safety."
"And how do you suggest we do that?" Nate demanded.
"River," Merle said.
"What?" Daryl asked.
"River. Unless ya'll got a brighter idea."
Sinclaire gestured at the cliff. "Are you suggesting that we toss children off of that?"
They inched over to the edge and glanced down. "There is no way in hell..." Sinclaire began.
"Fan out!" the Governor called. "Fan out and check the woods!"
"Shit," Daryl muttered.
"All right, well, can you guys all swim?" Sinclaire demanded.
"I'm not leaving without my dad!" Carl said.
"Carl, I need you to take care of them," Sinclaire said seriously. "You're damn decent with that gun and Nate is going to need some help and-"
"I'm not a little kid!" Carl cut in. "And you can't talk me into-"
"Okay, then we do this the hard way." Sinclaire pushed him over the edge and pointed for Nate to follow him. "Go, go, go!"
Once Nate, Sophia and Carol were over the edge, Daryl paused. "What are ya'll gonna do?"
"I'm going to save them," Sinclaire said. "Or die trying. You should go."
"No, I'll stay with ya."
Marie swallowed hard. "Me too."
"Like fun you will," Sinclaire said. She'd always wanted to say it and now seemed like the time to use up all her best lines. "Get yourself over that cliff, young lady. You too, Bowhunter. She won't go without you."
"Yeah, but..."
"Don't make me push you too! They're getting closer!" When Daryl took a step toward the edge, Sinclaire remembered something. "Oh, take Zeke."
"The fuck?" Daryl groaned as she stuffed the reluctant cat into his jacket. "Ow!"
"Go, Bowhunter!"
"Sinclaire, I-"
"Ain't the time," Merle growled.
Sinclaire pushed him over the edge and, since he was still holding onto Marie, she went with him.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath and smiling at wobbly smile at Merle. "Civilians accounted for. Ready to die pointlessly?"
Merle grabbed the front of her vest and dragged her against him, his mouth crashing down on hers. Her surprised exclamation came out as a weird gurgle, but after a second she wasn't embarrassed about it anymore. It was a good kiss. An unexpectedly good kiss.
"What...was that for?" she asked when he pulled back.
"Think I'm fallin' in love with ya, Yank."
Then he pushed her over the cliff.