Winter has claimed the farmhouse with a quiet ferocity. Two days in, the temperature had taken a nosedive, summoning the first snow of the season. It fell lightly at first, a soft, fluffy flurry, but by nightfall of the first day, the grass was swallowed by a thin blanket of white, and the world seemed to shrink into silence under the weight of the frost.

Oddly enough, the touch of death that often follows in the wake of Winter has yet to dissuade the weeds in the greenhouse from growing, and Felix decided that was enough hope for him to take it on as a project. Sparrow, to everyone's surprise, volunteered to help him, though it would be more accurate to say that Felix dragged him into it. Watching the two of them work had been unexpectedly entertaining.

Felix had attacked the project with his usual single-minded determination and enthusiasm - contagious in a way that even the apocalypse couldn't snuff out - as he spent the first day or so sweeping out the weeds, hauling buckets of soil he found in the barn, and planting seeds of winter crops he discovered in the kitchen. Sparrow, on the other hand, moved with less enthusiasm and certainty, often grumbling about the cold and dirt under his nails or the splinters he'd get from the old gardening tools. For someone who claimed he didn't like getting dirty, Sparrow had taken to the work surprisingly well - despite his grumbling and sarcastic remarks about being 'dirty.'

Maybe Felix's endless energy and special interest in plant life and gardening ignited a new hobby for Sparrow, or maybe Sparrow just wanted something to do besides sharpening and maintaining his sword and pacing the living room. If Felix is ever bothered by Sparrow's griping and complaints, he doesn't show it. Regardless, the work the two boys put in is beginning to pay off as they transform the half-dead greenhouse into the beginning stages of a plant sanctuary. 

It's nice to come back from my hunting trips and poke my head inside to watch the unlikely pair work together. Before the greenhouse, Felix and Sparrow would chat and joke every once in a while, but it was never anything above surface level. These past few days, however, they've been looking more and more like a pair of old friends.

It's nice to see my brother smile and relax with someone he can call a friend.

Octavia and Josh have the patrols covered in the area - another unlikely duo I never would have expected - to ensure that Jessica and her merry band of Widows or any Ferals decide to pay us a visit. So far, the coast has been clear, but I don't expect our luck will hold out forever. Occasionally, I meet them on their patrol as I'm out hunting, and sometimes, I pass them some of the game I caught to take to the farmhouse to start preparing. When he's not on patrol, Josh is often in the barn, scrapping any usable parts of the pick-up inside that might be compatible with the van in case we need spare parts.

He's tried teaching me a bit of mechanics - an admittedly valuable skill to have nowadays - but it's less about me learning and more about keeping us both occupied. We both know why he's doing it; keeping our minds off what's happening upstairs in the farmhouse, in the bedroom where Dani has been this whole time.

The bedroom I've been avoiding since our arrival.

Luckily, I've found my own distractions when I'm not watching Felix and Sparrow play in the dirt or listening to Josh try to explain rocket science like I'm five. Hunting has been my quiet comfort, a purpose that steadies me, grounding me in the here and now. The woods beyond the fields have been kind so far, offering enough game to see us through the winter for however long we'll be staying here.

Walking back to the farmhouse feels surreal, especially as the snow begins to fall once more, a light flurry dusting my shoulders and head. My breath puffs before me in small clouds, but despite that, I don't feel the cold, not with the weight of fresh rabbits slung over my shoulder.

It's strange to have a place to return to, a place that isn't just another fleeting stop in my impossible journey. The past few winters, my siblings and I had never stayed anywhere long. We were always moving, always on the run, resting only long enough to patch ourselves up and catch a few fleeting hours of slumber before circumstance urged us forward again.

Now, however, I've had time to learn the rhythm of this area.

The forest is familiar now. I know the trails, the places where rabbits burrow, the trails of deer in the area. On one of my longer walks, I even found a hunting cabin a mile or two from the house that must have belonged to the family who lived here. Best of all, I've seen her - a mare, wild and beautiful, wandering around the farmhouse. Judging from the riding equipment in the barn, I can only assume that hers is the name engraved on the worn saddle that hangs in an empty stall. She's skittish, much too wary to let me come close, but every day I see her, I greet her with a quiet "good morning" and a small wave, hoping she knows that I mean no harm.

Maybe, in time, she'll let me come closer.

Today, however, on the fifth day of our impromptu winter stay, I noticed Felix sitting on the bench outside of the greenhouse, waiting for me, picking at his fingernails. Hearing my footsteps crunching in the snow, his head snaps up, and he stands, offering a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Hey," he greets.

"Hey," I return, hefting the bag on my shoulder. "What's going on? Why do you look so serious?" 

His concerned expression only deepens as he sighs. "It's Dani," he says after a moment, and my face falls. 

"What? Is she okay? Did she..?" 

"No, no, she hasn't," Felix assures, crossing his arms. "Have you... have you gone to see her yet?" 

I sigh, biting my lip as I shake my head. I haven't had the heart to talk to her since our first day here, her accusatory glare burned in the back of my brain. Coping with the situation has led me to stay outside or in the kitchen for as long as possible, skinning and drying the animals I hunt and making sure we can use every part and piece of them. I had been using the furs of the rabbits and deer to line the inside of the van to insulate it, and making a patchwork blanket, and feathers from what few birds I can catch into fletchings for my arrows

"She's been asking for you today," Felix continues. "And yesterday..." 

"I know, I'm just..." 

"Busy?" 

I wince as he repeats the half-assed excuse I've given him a dozen times before.

"Cass, you can't keep ignoring her. She's already tried getting out of bed to talk to you herself, the least you can do is humor her." 

"I just can't, Felix." 

"Why?" 

"Because..." 

"Cassandra." His voice makes me pause, and his stern expression drops a weight in my stomach. "You're allowed to be sad. You're allowed to be angry, and upset, and lose your shit. What you're not allowed to do is give up." 

"I know, it's just," I sigh, slumping. "I don't know if what we're doing is the right thing anymore. I've always been so sure that what we're doing is right, but since the others joined us..." 

"Cassy," Felix breathes. "I never thought I'd have to be the one to say this, but there is only space in this family for one unstable sibling, and I'm pretty sure Octavia's not going to let that title go anytime soon, so I'm gonna need you to get your shit together and talk to Dani." 

I blink at him.

"Don't give me that look," he says, patting my shoulder. "The bright side to all of this is that she's somehow looking healthier." I glare at him, skeptical, and he rolls his eyes. "Just go talk to her, I'll deal with whatever you got stuffed in the bag here." 

Sighing, I hand him the bag, which he hefts onto his shoulder before giving me an expectant look, gesturing for me to walk. I begin to wonder who the older sibling here is supposed to be as I stalk to the house and stomp the cluster of frost off my boots on the porch before heading inside. 

As I climb to the loft of the farmhouse, I can hear faint arguing coming from Dani's room, and before I'm able to make out what's being said, Octavia storms out, tears forming in her eyes. She pauses when she sees me, and as I open my mouth to ask her what's wrong, she glares at me and shoulders past, stomps downstairs, and locks herself in the study without a word. 

"What the hell was that about..?" I mutter, glancing at the door to Dani's room, which remains cracked open as Octavia never bothered to close it all the way. While I want to check on her and see what got her so upset, Octavia would be more likely to yell and shout rather than explain the problem, and I don't think I have the energy for that right now. 

Taking a deep breath, I approach the door and softly knock. "Dani, it's Cass..." 

Silence greets me, though shortly after, the sound of rustling cloth greets my ears. Gulping, I carefully open the door, preparing to come face to face with an infected Dani, jaws snapping and stormy eyes absent of anything but hunger. 

Instead, she's sitting up in bed, looking no worse than she did the first day we got to the farm. In fact, though her hair is a mess - as usual - her skin has a lot of its color back, and her cheeks aren't as gaunt as they were before. Save for the dark rings under her eyes and the perpetually exhausted look on her face, she looks almost like she's back to normal. 

"Hey," Dani breathes, looking surprised to see me here. 

How does she look healthy now? She was bitten over seventy-two hours ago, and the only symptoms she's showing now are minor at best and moderately inconvenient for her at worst. 

Stepping inside the room, I pause when I notice her hands on her lap, zip-tied together with a rope tied in the center and secured to the bedpost, keeping her in the bed. I frown at the sight, closing the door behind me as I approach. 

"You look like shit." I mentally kick myself, though it's the only thing I can think to say, watching her tied up and sick as she is.

Dani chuckles, rolling her eyes, appearing unbothered. "Thanks. You sure know how to make a gal feel special." 

I stand beside the chair by her bedside, unsure what to do or say. All I can do is stare and wonder how she can sit there, looking as healthy as you can be after being bitten. Four years and over dozens of people I have known and personally seen turn after a bite, and yet she sits there, unphased, and like she's ready to hit the road again. 

"Uh, you can sit down if you'd like," Dani says slowly, gesturing vaguely to the chair by her bed. "I won't bite." 

I glare at her for the tasteless remark, slowly circling the chair to sit at her side. "What were you arguing about with my sister?" 

Dani pauses and thinks about her words carefully, taking a deep breath before saying, "She just... asked for something I can't give her." 

"She left crying." 

She winces. "I know..." 

Sighing, I start to stand, but Dani sits up straighter, almost reaching out to stop me, but the rope stops her. "Cass, wait!" I pause, unable to look at her without being reminded of what she said before. "I’d like to talk to you if you're not... busy." I turn my head to let her know I'm listening, though right now, I'd like nothing more than to leave this room and go outside. "Could you maybe look at me, please?" 

I flinch, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing myself before I turn to face her, my expression flat. "I'm still not going to kill you." 

"I know you won't," she says. "And I appreciate it, I just... I wanted to apologize for what I said to you in the yard." I pick at my hands as she continues. "You're not weak, Cass. I know I wasn't in my right mind then, but it wasn't fair of me to say regardless. I never should have blamed you for my suffering, let alone brought your siblings into it. It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair." 

"You don't get to do that," I mutter, shaking my head. 

"I'm sorry-"

"You don't get to just... walk into somebody's life, make them care, and peace out like that." 

Dani bites her lip, staring into her lap. 

"Since I've met you, you've been so ready to just... throw your life away, trying to die for someone else and their cause. You're supposed to be turned right now, dead, not you, but you're still here, still you, sitting there healthy as can be, like you're…” I gesture vaguely, frustrated at myself. “Like you’re just getting over a stomach bug!" 

She blinks, her brows furrowed. "Don't sound too disappointed, now." 

"You know what I mean. You already walk around like you've got a death wish, and now," I gesture harshly to her, terrified of voicing it. 

"Now you think I'm immune?" Dani offers. "Isn't… isn’t that a good thing?" 

"Not when you're waiting for an excuse to get yourself killed!" Before I know it, I'm standing and pacing her room, my heart beating a million miles a minute as I let weeks of frustrations and worry flood out of my mouth. "You begged me, begged me, to kill you at the gas station and again when we first got here. When we got to Cottonwood, you put yourself in harm's way to help and protect my siblings and me, but you could never bring yourself to speak out against Leon. You’re stupidly brave, Dani!" 

I scoff, my wild, gesturing hands falling to my sides as the realization hits me. "Alison was right; you and Josh did become just a couple of soldiers, ready to sacrifice your lives at the drop of a hat." 

"Hey, that's not true-"

"Then tell me something, Dani," I turn on her, my throat tightening as I swallow hard. "What do you want? No self-sacrificing bullshit, no 'doing it for the good of the group' crap, what do you want for yourself?" Dani stares at me, her eyes wide as she takes me in. She's unable to hold my gaze for long, opting to stare at her lap as she fiddles with her fingers in silence. 

"Cass, what I want isn’t-"

Sharp knocking at the door makes us both jump, and Sparrow's voice sounds from the other side, sounding urgent. "Hey, Cassy? Josh found something you might want to take a look at!" 

I glance back to Dani, who has a guilty expression on her face, and I sigh. "I'm on my way," I called back to him before pointing to Dani. "We're not done with this conversation, alright?" 

She grimaces, nodding as I step out of the bedroom to see a worried-looking Sparrow with wide eyes. 

"What's going on?" I ask him. 

"Come on, you just have to see it," he says, leading the way out of the house, across the yard, and into the barn. 

Josh had moved the truck out of the barn to work on it in better lighting, and where the truck was parked, the floor is peeled open like a set of cellar doors, a concrete stairway leading down into a dimly lit abyss.