On opposite sides of the table, two men sat.

Doyle, settling in a great unease with this religious sect joining them within the colony. On his hands, the blood of the dead stained in the next fight for his life. A fight, he won thanks to the strange man sitting across from him. This man, not only helped clear the infected, but returned the nephew of the man now rotting away in a jail cell.

"I have saved your people from the demons, returned one of your own," Abel speaks Doyle's thoughts aloud, "All I request is to keep the mansion on the hill. One, that I hear will no longer be occupied. It seems I've arrived at the best of times and I wish to have a place for my people to worship freely."

The religious leader smiles, though it doesn't meet his eyes, nor does it chase away that dangerous glare that lingers. Doyle had seen madness, stared it in the eye, had seen it within himself staring back at the mirror. But this, this look was something greater, something to be feared. It was obvious that some marbles strayed, but who alive today could say they had them all?

If it hadn't been for their arrival, the colony might be an incubator for the carrion virus by now.

"You can have the mansion with your people, but we have one rule," Doyle starts, "There are rations and everyone must contribute, as required. Farming, hunting, fishing, security...whatever the task may be."

At his beard, Abel scratches, his eyes unwavering on the man he practiced civility with.

"All but myself, my Eve and her friend, Jael. They have work to do in my home, in our church. They will hold services with me and do chores around the mansion. That is how we will contribute. The rest of my people, you may ask to work as you please. That is all I am willing to compromise. As for how we live, we compromise nothing that goes on within our home."

This offer, Doyle knew he had no choice but to take. They needed the numbers here and if they had two or three mooches within the forty or so Abel brought with them, then so be it. Maybe they needed religion here, or a place to worship. Doyle sure as hell wouldn't show his face there, but maybe others would find use for it.

Holding out his hand, Abel takes it in the agreement. An alliance forged, one that should settle well with Doyle, but it doesn't. Somehow, he's found himself in the seat of power with Russell's fall. Something that doesn't quite feel right yet and it's something he's not quite ready for. Though they'd liberated the colonists, the rules yet to make, tricky, with this possible confrontation of a segregated church populace.

"Send your men and women ready to work to the town hall at daybreak. We'll assign them then." Doyle tells him and just when the soldier thinks it's over, Abel adds another note to their strained meeting.

"The woman chained to the swing...who set free the demons...." Abel begins to ask, before Doyle can forge a response to the bombshell. "What do you plan to do with her?"

Not wanting to tell this man that he has no idea yet, the soundness of Doyle's mind as leader hasn't formed a cohesive bond. In all his hating of Russell's laws and his forced ways, Doyle hardly had the fantastical mind to come up with laws of his own.

Keeping it vague, Doyle shrugs, "I guess that's going to be up to her. We're in the middle of a turn-over till new laws are made. For now, she sits with that bastard in the jails. "

"Will I be part of these...deliberations for her? For the disgraced leader? In making these laws?" Abel asks as his calloused fingers drum to a slow beat against the wood surface of the table.

"Of course. Most colonists will have an input." Doyle replies and though he wishes to turn his back coldly, he can't find it in him to cower down. He won't. Not just for himself, but for the sake of those under his protection in the colony.

"I'll be there at dawn. I hope to see you there too, at the town hall. We have much to discuss." Abel says after Doyle as he leaves and all Doyle can do, is offer an agreeing nod with his final departure.

☣☣☣☣☣☣

At the end of the cottage's short walkway, Doyle remains.

Staring ahead, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes, that shines brighter with the promising dawn that will come in a few hours. His feet, plant safer than before. No hall pass in hand, no distance required from the cozy little house that filled with the laughter of both a woman and a child he cared for. Sounds, he reveled in, that he looked forward to at the end of every shift to just listen to as he passed by. A sound he thought, he could never be a part of again.

Now, he stayed frozen in a different hesitation. Not in regulation, not in fear for repercussions of the colony, but for the repercussions of his broken heart. Terrified so, of what this could mean if he took a step into that door.

As if knowing he's there, as she so often did, that curtain pulled back on the dot. The same time, the same place, the same look on her expecting face to see him waiting there to wave.

It's in this knowing of him and his habitual routines, that Doyle takes a nervous step forward. A short step, that fills her own wide-eyes with longing. He moves forward, his anxiety dissipating with each faster step he takes toward her door. It opens in welcoming him, in expecting his intentions that she too, waited too long for him to act on.

He's smiling without inhibition, taking in that look he so often turned away from when she cast it. Glitter, her dark eyes filled with it in dancing gold flecks. Drawn in, no longer avoiding what his heart so desperately wanted, he kissed the woman who he knew, loved him more than any other had. What she loved about him, turned most against him, pushed his own former love away. What Paige feared in him, Sophie found strength in, found forgiveness above all.

Though is life had filled with death and piles of corpses, it's in Sophie's kiss he found life again. His passion to continue living, to lead this colony onward to a new era of peace, ignited further with the excited squeal of Abby with his arrival. As the door closed behind him, the rest of the colony could hear his happiness, if they chose to listen.

They could stand at the end of that pathway like he had a hundred times and know, that he'd do everything within his power to keep that laughter, to preserve that light for as long as he remained on this changing Earth.

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