Carl didn't want me to go. Which I should have known would happen. And part of me didn't really want to leave Winnie - even if she was being taken care of by Michonne. I just didn't like the idea of leaving my little girl behind, especially if something happened to me. Who would raise her then? I chewed the inside of my cheek as I kept walking, these stressful thoughts swirling in my mind.

So that's how I ended up here in a hallway between my dad and Rick. Not really my best decision, I know. And I hate that Carl and I had argued before I left but...I couldn't just sit back and do nothing. I was born to fight - I couldn't just give that up. I ran a finger across the side of my gun then, the cool metal soothing me if only slightly as Rick yanked a hand-drawn map out of the front pocket of his shirt.

"Ain't on this floor," Daryl piped up gruffly, coming to stand beside me.

We'd been in every room of the Sanctuary and still, no guns to be found anywhere. They were hiding them someplace. But that was just it: where?

"Only option is up," Rick shrugged.

"High ground. Good cover," I finally spoke and both men glanced my way before Rick began to nod in agreement.

"Yeah, I'd put 'em up there, too," he said as he put away his map.

"Stairs!" Daryl suddenly spoke again, pointing away from us before bolting towards the door he'd found.

Rick and I shared a glance before following after him.

"Always on the move," I grumbled as we stood behind Daryl.

He tried to open it but it appeared to be locked from the inside. Daryl let out a frustrated sigh before finally, kicking down the door with his muddy boot, leaving footprint on the white wood. Once it had been opened though, it was a very long trek down another hallway before we reached a vent. Daryl glanced down at me, tilting his head towards it and I shot him a look.

"Oh, please, no-" I started in disbelief with crossed arms.

"What? Scared of small spaces?" he teased before crawling into the tiny vent head-first.

"Um, kinda! It's called claustrophobia and it's a thing, dad!" I huffed before attempting to crawl in.

My feet couldn't get traction though on the wall below and I felt Rick give me a boost before I fell on my palms in the vent beside my father.

"See? You made it," Daryl grinned and I shoved him in the arm roughly before we both grabbed one of Rick's hands and helped him up as well.

Quickly, we made our way through the vent before we came out into a hallway, my boots making a loud thud as they hit the carpet. We kept our weapons aimed in front of us for protection but all was quiet inside.

"Last floor. The guns have gotta be up here," Rick said, slightly out of breath from all the walking.

His dark curls stuck to his forehead from sweat and I could just make out a bit of stubble on his chin. Dad didn't look any better - his hair hadn't been washed in weeks and I was pretty sure he was still wearing the same shirt from last Thursday. I was no better though - I was sweating through my long-sleeve t-shirt and even my hair was damp from it. We all were looking a bit worse for wear. I guess war could do that to a person - by being so caught up in the battle, you started to forget to take care of your own self.

"He said they'd be here," Daryl grumbled in response to what Rick had said, referring to Dwight.

I could tell he was mad - the both of us could judging by the exasperated look on Rick's face.

"Everything else he passed you is checking out," he assured him, gun still aimed in front of him in case of any nearby Saviors.

"That guy's a piece of-" dad started to say when I slapped a hand across his mouth.

"Don't start," I warned him before he shrugged off my hand, "Those guns get to the Sanctuary, they could cut through those walkers and free up an exit, "

"We'll go faster if we split up," Rick piped up then, "Angel and I find the M2s. Daryl, you find 'em? We use 'em, hit the courtyard right then and there,"

"End this quick." Daryl agreed and Rick nodded in response before the three of us split up down the hallway.