Sinclaire woke up on the floor of a McMansion, but she couldn't enjoy the view of the vaulted ceiling or the feel of the cashmere blanket someone (most likely Carol since Daryl was so mad at her that he couldn't even look her way without snarling) had thrown over her. She sat up quietly.

Most of the room was still asleep, but Rick was sitting up in the corner. The fireplace seemed to highlight every new line in his face. She stood up and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Then she stepped delicately over the people sleeping around her and joined him.

"I'm sorry," she said. It wasn't enough, obviously, but Rick nodded.

"I'm sorry too," he said.

She thought at first that he meant about Lori and the baby, but when she looked at him, she saw that he meant something different. She couldn't address it, so she looked down at the blanket. It was grey and dusty where it had been folded. She raked her fingernail across it and watched the dust motes rise in front of the flames.

"We need a plan."

"I'll get Nate and Daryl," Rick said, standing up tiredly.

Sinclaire wondered if he'd slept at all. Soon Nate and Daryl joined them and they all stepped onto the back deck. It was fenced in, but the real reason there were no guards there was probably because it faced another ravine. This one was smaller, but she could hear the river splashing through it from where she stood. It was probably so full of rocks that diving would be asking for a broken leg.

"What's the plan?" Daryl asked. He seemed a bit calmer, but he still wasn't looking Sinclaire's way. She wondered if things would ever be easy between the two of them again.

"We can find a new place," Nate said.

"That ain't what I mean."

"Merle and Glenn and Carrie," Rick said, rubbing his hands over his face. "Goddamn it. I don't know."

"Maybe once we get a new place we can send a recon party," Nate said. "But we've got to keep the people we have left safe before we do that."

Daryl seemed caught between a desire to argue and the logic that told him that Nate was right.

Sinclaire leaned against the railing and said, "Why not join us, Red Beard? You should be satisfied by now that we aren't planning to murder you all in your sleep."

It took a few minutes, but he walked around, through the house, and out onto the back deck. He stood there with his arms crossed, although he looked mildly impressed.

"You're real military," he said to Sinclaire.

She raised an eyebrow as she gestured at her fatigues. "You thought I wore this to accentuate my ass?"

"Seen a lot of people wear 'em," he said. "Don't mean they earned 'em."

Sinclaire only shrugged. "Clothes are clothes now. Where'd you serve?"

"Afghanistan."

She gestured at Nate. "He's Navy. SEAL."

Abraham looked a little surprised.

"Rick was a cop," she went on. "And I was an Army Captain when Atlanta fell."

He eyed them all. "Maybe you're not as useless as I thought."

"Thanks," Nate said dryly.

"Last bunch I trusted nearly got us killed," Abraham said. "They're the reason we wasted the damn winter with the old man."

"Who's the old man?" Daryl asked.

"Guy named Herschel. He used to have a farm around here, but it got overrun. We met 'em on the road."

"Probably still would have been better to travel in winter though," Sinclaire said. "Cold makes the zombies lazy."

"Couldn't," Abraham said promptly. "Eugene was sick."

"Sick how?" Daryl asked warily.

"Normal sick. Flu, Herschel said. Took him a long damn time to get over don't ya'll come on and have breakfast with us?" He didn't wait for an answer, he just pointed to the house across the way and said, "Over there in about ten minutes."

"The hell is he so fuckin' chummy for all of a sudden?" Daryl asked. "Plannin' on poisonin' us?"

"I doubt it," Nate said. "I think he wants something."

Since she agreed with Nate, Sinclaire didn't add her two cents. Instead she helped Rick wake everyone up and walked across the street with the rest of the group. Marie stuck near the back with her.

"Sinclaire?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you and Daryl mad at each other?"

It was such a childish question that Sinclaire stopped and stared at her. "What?"

Marie blushed, realizing how she'd sounded. "I just thought..."

"Thought what? And didn't you spend the night with him last night?"

"Nothing happened!" Marie stopped and caught Sinclaire's hand. "We didn't...I mean..."

Sinclaire pulled her hand free, but not as brusquely as she'd planned. "Marie, now's really not the time. All you need to know is that Bowhunter and I had a friends with benefits arrangement. He likes you, I think. I won't be mad if you fuck him. Does that cover everything?"

"Um, I think so." Marie stared at her for a few moments. "You know, you and Merle really are..."

Sinclaire held her hand up. "I don't have time to stand around girling it up with you. Let's go eat." She walked away.

"Weirdly perfect for each other," Marie muttered before following.

"Here they are," Abraham said unceremoniously. He gestured to the table. "Get something to eat."

Sinclaire eyed the table. Nothing on it looked appetizing, but she took a plate anyway. Everything on it tasted like dust, but she listened to the small talk. Once everyone was done eating, Abraham stood up.

"All right, I'm just gonna say it."

Everyone looked his way. Sinclaire looked around. Mullet guy was staring at his plate as if it held the secrets to the universe. His ears and the back of his neck had gone a little red.

"Eugene knows a way to stop all this." Abraham pointed to the mullet. "We've just gotta get him to D.C."

Everyone in Sinclaire's group sat silently for a moment. Then Marie said, "Seriously?"

"Don't fuckin' matter," Daryl said. "CDC's what ya'd need, right?" Eugene looked at him. Daryl swigged down the last of his water and said, "S'gone, pal."

Eugene only shrugged, looking infuriatingly superior.

"We're offering to take you with us," Abraham said with a hard look at Daryl. "Added protection from the cops and the military can't hurt."

What the hell kind of world did this guy think he was living in? Being military hadn't stopped what had happened to them. They'd fallen off of a cliff right under his nose for God's sake.

"And you're all in on it?" Daryl asked, looking around.

"Not all of us," a man with a white beard and even whiter hair said. Sinclaire felt that his ponytail was incongruous, but she liked him almost instantly anyway.

The blonde girl sitting beside him spoke up. "Dad plans to go back to the farm."

"If there's a farm left," Abraham said darkly.

The dark haired woman on the other side of him rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Can't be worse than hiking all the way to DC with you."

Sinclaire stood up. "I think I'm going to head out."

"What the hell ya mean, yer gonna head out?" Daryl asked.

"Exactly what I said." She crossed her arms when everyone looked at her. "I'm going to go back to the bar, see if there's anything left. We need that box truck; it's got all of our supplies."

"I'll go with you to pick it up," Rick said, standing up as well.

"And after that," she said. "I'm going to Woodbury to get Merle."

A/N: I know it's a little short, but the flu nearly killed me, you guys. I mean, I think I saw a bright light and everything. But I knew I couldn't go toward it until I finished this story, so here's the latest chapter and I hope you enjoy! I should have another one sometime in the next few weeks and I'm kind of in the process of wrapping it up, I think. Unless I get some new sparks of brilliance, that is :) Meanwhile, if you're into Supernatural, I'm writing one of those so you can check that out (I think maybe I've already mentioned that, now that I think of it, so please ignore my self promoting if I have)