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Series: No Day But Today
Title: Only Human
Pair: Klaine! and others
Word count: 7474
Summary: The refugee town makes wedding plans (and other plans), and Kurt and Rafe boggle at what they’ve survived.
“I want your ugly-”
Rafe glared across the living room at Nick grinding his hips. “Stop that.”
“I want your disease-”
“Stop.”
Nick waggled his brows and swiveled his hips to beat Elvis. “I want your everything, as long as it’s free!”
“Oh, for goodness sakes.” Rafe threw down the white fabric he had been working with.
“I want your love!” Nick continued to sing, strutting across the room on his toes, like he was wearing invisible heels. Tina hopped up to dance with him.
“Love love love,” Blaine sang as he came into the room.
“I want your love!” They all sang together. Blaine grabbed one of Saffire’s hands and started dancing with her.
“I’m surrounded,” Rafe said. Then fled from the “Warbler” cheerfulness. Now Saff and Tina had been converted into Warblettes.
It wasn’t that Nick’s sudden attentions weren’t adorable, in their way. It was that Rafe really hadn’t the slightest what to do with them, and they made him scared. Although, maybe at the end of the day it didn’t matter if he was really in love with Rafe. If he was really gay or bi, or just lonely. Maybe at the end of the day, you simply either had someone in your bed to hold, or you didn’t. He drifted toward the bedroom and poked his head inside.
Kurt was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing his glasses and writing on a pad of paper with determination.
“Lookin’ studious,” Rafe chirruped.
Kurt’s eyes lifted. He touched his glasses with one finger. “Hmph. Well, they make the scar less noticeable, anyway.”
“I hardly even see it, anymore.” Rafe strolled over to the bed. “Of course, when I met you, your face was wrapped up in gauze, and your abs looked like you’d swallowed a prize-winning pumpkin-”
“Why, thank you, sweetie!”
“-So maybe I’m not the best determiner of whether you look as good as you did before. S’all I’m sayin’.”
Kurt bowed his head and continued writing. “Don’t be shady, be a lady.”
“Hmph.” Rafe sat on the bed next to him and smiled. “I think you do have enough fabric. We did the measuring just now, and you should be fine.”
“Oh, good. Thanks. That’ll save me a little time, if I have the materials. I’ll get to sewing them together sometime tonight, I think.”
“I’m not very homey, or I’d help you with that, too.”
Kurt was quiet a moment, then reached over and touched Rafe’s hand. “I just can’t thank you enough for being there for us.”
“I love you. I want you to have the most fabulous wedding ever. Don’t look at me like that.” Rafe smirked as Kurt lifted up his glasses and rested them on the top of his head. “I’m okay. Better than before, anyway. We all have our dark moments.”
“And some of us don’t come back from those,” Kurt murmured as he squeezed Rafe’s hand.
“True enough.” Rafe looked at their hands. “You had one. Right after Pippa was born.”
“I did not.” He gestured with a hand. “I was just... Hormonal. Disoriented. Anxious. And... things.”
“I noticed.”
“I know you notice.” Kurt leaned over and kissed Rafe’s cheek. “Thank you for keeping an eye on us.”
“Do you still feel that way? You always seem so strong these days.”
“I just got over a flu from Hell. I’m not always strong.”
“That’s a virus, not-” Rafe rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Supermom. Be that way.”
Kurt looked down at his loose, distinctive handwriting. There were pictures, shaded darkly in the corners of the pages. Two figures standing on the hill overlooking a mall with walkers scattered everywhere. “I feel that way, sometimes. But... I’ve been thinking back, lately. While I was sick, getting better but still too tired to do much, I started trying to remember all the things that happened while we were down there. I made some notes along the way, wrote a few things...”
He looked up and narrowed his eyes. The scar on his right eye seemed more prominent for a moment.
“I don’t know how I did it. I think back to what I was doing, all the stress we had on us from moment to moment, and it’s like I’m remembering someone else’s life. And it seems impossible for anyone to do what we did. What I did.” Kurt touched his cheek. “Then I think back to before, when I was a silly teenager, whose biggest problems involved a bully stalking and assaulting and threatening to kill me-”
“Oh, Christ on a cracker, honey!”
“And that doesn’t seem like my life either.” Kurt tilted his head to the side. “The whole world seems... disorientingly unreal.”
Rafe rubbed his left hand over their intertwined fingers. “I don’t know what to tell you about that, hon.”
“I think I compartmentalized myself insane.”
Rafe raised a brow, and Kurt bumped his shoulder and smiled, slightly. “Like you’re a pro at compartmentalizing.”
Rafe drew in a deep breath and looked away.
“I just... Sometimes...” He shrugged and sighed. “But then, I take Pippa in my arms, or we’re all together in the meeting hall, or I’m dancing with Blaine in the kitchen, or in bed with his arms around me, and everything clicks right again. Too many reality shocks. The walking dead. A baby. Toronto.”
“Oh!” Rafe laughed. “Was Toronto that shocking?”
“It was traumatizing. I think we’re mostly over it, now.”
Rafe rubbed a thumb over the thick scars on his wrist, and nodded, slowly.
Kurt flopped back on the bed and looked through his pages one by one. “I imagine, sometimes, someone is going to find this, and they’ll read it...”
Rafe nodded. “History in the making.”
“No, they’re going to say, ‘what the fer-reak is this?!’”
Rafe grabbed him and crowed with laughter.
***
“Flow-ers!” Brittany sang. She bounced over to Santana and put a string of folded pieces of paper in her lap. They did look like flowers.
“Oh, wow. These are nice. For me?”
“No! For the wedding. It’s Kurt and Blaine-- it pretty much has to be pretty!” Brittany trailed her fingertips over the points of each flower.
“These are nice. I bet Blainers cries.” Santana chuckles and leaned her head on Brittany’s shoulder.
“Then when we have babies and get married, they can decorate for us!”
Santana looked up at her.
“There’ll be so much glitter!”
Santana’s hand touched her cheek. “When we get married, and have babies, it will be the best ceremony that ever was. And our babies will be the sweetest and most beautiful.”
“You could have Rafe do it.” Brittany fluffed her short hair. “I mean, I know that you and I can’t really, but he’s blond. It would be like throwing some of me into our baby.”
“That’s a really smart idea.” Santana took Brittany’s hand. “Okay. Let’s start putting up some of these flowers so we can see how many more we need?”
“Okay.” Brittany took a string and stood up with it. She paused. “Am I still the girl you love?”
“Of course you are. Why would you say that?”
“Because... I’m not the same. I’m not. The wedding is making me feel more normal, but the rest of the time, I’m new. And I’m not always sure why you’d like this new girl.”
Santana turned to Brittany and took her hands. “Because she saved me. Because she’s been right by my side, even when I couldn’t stop crying, even when I got so sick. She has all of old Brittany’s sweetness that I love, and yeah, there’s something new.”
She shrugged. “I’m not exactly the same as I used to be, either.”
“You like people more.”
Santana shook her head. “I always liked some of them. But it was hard to let them get close, and way easier and more fun to be mean. Now I don’t have a chance to show a lot of the people I really liked how I felt about them.”
Brittany looked down at Santana’s hands, then pulled her close and put her arms around her waist.
“Like Mercedes?”
“I wish I knew what happened to her. We could’ve been such good friends if I hadn’t been so damn defensive and angry all the time.” Santana sighed. “Kurt’s another one, and I think we’re all so lucky to still have him.”
“I always liked Kurt.”
“You know that made me jealous.”
“I know. But he’ll have a husband, soon. Plus, he didn’t ever want me to touch him below he waist, so that’s no fun.” Brittany smiled. “Maybe when he has another baby, you can have one too. And they can be best friends.”
“You are so stuck on this baby thing.” Santana rolled her eyes and rested her head on Brittany’s shoulder. “We have to wait, then. Remember how hard it was on Kurt? It’s too hard on his body at his age. We have to wait for it to catch up with the rest of him.”
“I can wait. Everything seems rushed now, though. You know? Everything’s sped up, because we don’t know how much longer we have. We have to grab it while it’s here.” Brittany shrugged and kissed Santana’s cheek. “And I want everything with you.”
“I know.” Santana petted Brittany’s cheek and carded her fingers through the girl’s soft, short hair. She kissed her tenderly, then sucked on her lower lip. A bit of a nibble, and a growl, to promise what would come later that night.
“I want everything with you, too.”
***
Kurt smoothed his hands over his white suit, which he’d finished sewing together quickly that morning, and assessed himself in the mirror. Their baby was four months old. Kurt was now skinny as a rail. Skinny as he’d ever wanted to be in the life before this one, when he’d constantly watched his calories and felt like the most unattractive boy ever to live. Gaunt, was the word. Not unlike a runway model. The thought made Kurt smile, ironically.
Granted, a lot of that self-disgust was internalized hatred from a world that had reviled his very being, his voice, the movement of his body, his desires, even his thoughts. Now, being a fighter and a father took precedence over stupid insecurities, and that world had pretty much been laid to waste. So he was more concerned that he’d have the strength to protect his loved ones than about the junk in his trunk.
Putting the wedding clothes together had been a trip. His body had changed so much in the past year, expanded and contracted, rather rapidly on both accounts. Produced a child, put forth the sustenance for that child. It was kind of remarkable, actually. And now... Looking at himself, Kurt hoped his body was able to feed her for a bit longer. He worried, sometimes, if he was getting her enough nutrients. He wondered if his weight right now worried his father, and Blaine. Probably, since it had dropped so dramatically while he was ill. Not to mention that word had gone around, briefly, before everyone knew they had a flu outbreak, that he might be pregnant again.
(The town’s reaction had been, overall, simultaneous relief and disappointment.)
Kurt changed quickly out of the suit, hanging it up with Blaine’s so he could put the details on them both later that day, and satcheled up to go take care of the daily work necessary to keep the town running. Of course, he spared a moment to steal Pippa away from Saffire for some snuggles first.
He was hurrying along the path by the rows of houses when his eyes caught a figure moving out of the corner of his eye. He stopped immediately and locked his gaze on the movement. It was just barely visible, but he knew that jerky movement anywhere. Drawing in a deep breath, he reached to his side for a weapon that wasn’t there.
“Dammit.” He moved his lips over he word, his mind working rapidly.
The body staggered forward a little. Then, its head jerked upward. It saw him. Or rather, smelled him, as its eyes were rotted out. It started to turn. One leg was blown out, obviously, and it dragged it along behind as it struggled toward Kurt. The thing wasn’t exactly fresh, but it did still have some of its face left. An old man, with a grizzled white beard hanging from his chin, along with loose flesh.
Kurt rushed towards Deirdre's old house. It followed.
That was just as well, because Kurt wasn’t looking to hide. He surveyed the house, which was empty as he’d expected, then sprinted to the kitchen and came barreling back onto the porch at the creature. It hissed in surprise as Kurt confronted it, knocking it to the ground and stabbing its head repeatedly with the knife he’d found.
He didn’t stop until it ceased to move, and then he hacked the head off and stepped back. They would have to scan the whole area. There was a weakness in their defenses somewhere. His heart jerked at the thought that one of the men on the wall might have gone down, or that this one had slipped through elsewhere, and might have happened upon any one of their less adept fighters.
***
Blaine embraced Santana tightly and tried to catch his breath. She just laughed and shook her head when he pressed his hand to his chest.
“Oh, Blainers!” she said.
“No, no, this was...” Blaine touched the brightly colored paper flowers hanging around the meeting hall that Santana and Brittany had started. “This is too sweet.”
“Everyone wants to see you two love-sick puppies get up in front of what’s left of the world and lay one on each other,” Santana said. “It’ll do everybody some good.”
“Rituals are important.” Blaine turned a small paper bouquet around in his hands.
“Sure are. And I thought maybe we could do something besides funerals?” Santana rolled her eyes, picked up an unfinished batch of flowers, and started folding again. “By tomorrow, the bouquet should be a decent size-- you choose who wants to hold it in your pretty little hands.”
“Well... Neither of us is really... the bride.”
“Spoil sport.” She thought for a minute. “I’ll confer with Britt on that. I’m definitely holding the bouquet at my wedding. Or a bouquet. Anyway. We don’t have much left to do on the decorations. I’ve enlisted some help, but Brittany’s the mastermind behind this stuff. Van’s doing cake, so if you have any questions about that, ask her. I didn’t ask where she got the ingredients, but she’s been on the raiding team longer than anyone, besides Mike.”
“This is all so amazing.” Blaine pressed his lips together, then touched his fingertips to them as he smiled.
“Don’t get weepy on me,” she said in a soft, fond tone. It didn’t last. She pulled several flowers into a line and went back to business. “Who are you going to have as your best man? We made some boutonnieres, too.”
“I was thinking...”
Blaine trailed off as Kurt rushed into the meeting hall.
Drenched in blood.
“Oh, God! No, Kurt!” Blaine sprung up and rushed to his side.
Kurt’s eyes swept over the room. “Where’s my dad? I thought he would be-? We need to-- Honey, I’m fine--” He kissed Blaine’s cheek. “We need run a sweep of the perimeter immediately.”
“What happened?” Blaine grabbed Kurt’s hand and squeezed it tightly. He tried to breathe slowly and slow his heartbeat. Seeing Kurt like that... He felt like he might faint.
“There was a walker.” Kurt’s tone was short and detached. “I took care of it. But I don’t know how it got in, and we need to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“A walker. Inside the town?” Santana’s lips curled back as she dropped the flowers on the table and rose.
“We need to make sure the town is secure.” Kurt nodded slowly, clearly thinking hard as he was speaking. “Then... we need to call a meeting. This is our second unexpected visitor. We can’t let ourselves be surprised again.”
“I’ll alert the watchdogs,” Santana said.
Kurt grabbed her hand and put a still-bloody knife in it. “I don’t want anyone walking around unarmed anymore. It was nice while it lasted, but I’m not willing to lose anyone.”
“Oh, pretty pretty, I don’t go anywhere unarmed anymore. Keep it.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then squeezed Blaine’s shoulder before she hurried away.
As Kurt began to move again, Blaine clutched him tightly to his his chest, and Kurt looked on him with tented brows.
“I really am fine. It was too decomposed to give me much of a fight at all, and it was only the one.”
“I know. I just...” Blaine looked down then gave Kurt a firm kiss.
Kurt petted over his hair. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out, and it’ll be okay.”
But the feeling in Blaine’s stomach told him, no. It wouldn’t be. And something... something really, really felt wrong.
***
“Would everyone just friggin’ calm down?” Burt boomed over the meeting hall.
After a sweep of the entire town, and a change of the guard on the wall, the rest had been gathered together to discuss the continued safety of their group at this location. Some of the people Burt knew better than others. Most met at the refugee housing, of course, aside from the family and friends he was closer with, but until now, there hadn’t been much dissent regarding the choices of the group.
Burt had to admit, Kurt had called their reaction months ago on this one.
“What are we supposed to do?” Carol asked. “Just wait for the next thing to hit us? Wait for it to take us out while we sit on our asses?”
“The walker was a fluke,” said Andre, a tall man with dark hair. “We’re on that wall every fuckin’ minute. Nothing’s coming through without us seeing.”
“Except the walker Kurt took out. Where were you when that happened?” Santana snapped.
“Now, look-”
“You talk a big game about us ‘little women’ but I wonder how brave you would have been if it had been you, alone and unarmed against one of those fucking things,” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Burt caught sight of Kurt glaring at him and holding his hands over Saffire’s ears. She wiggled away and leaned forward to see the people arguing.
“It came up through the well,” Finn said. He paused just a second as everyone looked at him. “Look, guys, I’m pretty sure. There are scratch marks on the well, and there’s no other place where it might’ve come through.”
“If that were true, we’d all have gotten infected,” Andre argued.
“No,” Kurt said firmly, because he was pointing out the obvious. “We’re all immune to the walking plague. What we aren’t immune to are other illnesses. We still don’t know for sure where the flu came from, and rotting flesh isn’t hygienic. Unsurprisingly.”
“What do you propose we do? Shut down the well?” Andre asked.
“For starters, yes,” Kurt said. His head didn’t quite complete a full swivel. “After that, we need to start building up the walls again, and we need to start packing up.”
The crowd grew loud once again.
“It is spring,” Kurt said loudly, rubbing Pippa’s back to calm her despite the noise. She let out a couple of half-hearted cries. “We weren’t meant to stay here after the weather started to warm.”
“Do we really want to move again?” David asked. Unlike the others, he sounded calm, like he was genuinely trying to explore options. “It’s relatively safe here. We could just fortify our defenses, like Kurt just suggested. Pack in a little tighter and get enough supplies to last through the summer. If they can’t get in, then we could just pick ‘em off as they come up.”
“Your daughter is not going to be safe on the road,” Deirdre said, looking at Kurt. “You know that, right, hon?”
“I’m not an idiot,” Kurt answered. “Blaine and I made it pretty far on our own, if you remember.”
“Look.” Burt stood. “I know we’re settled, and I know people don’t wanna go out there where it’s scary, and hand to mouth, but we always planned on tryin’ to make a break for it when we had the chance. Our time might be runnin’ out here to do that safely.” “What about my dad?” Saffire asked.
“I think that when he gets back, we need to be ready to go. Whatever his news is. We’ve known for a while that he might be able to get a boat for us.” Burt looked out at the people. They were scared. Rightfully so. It wasn’t going to be pleasant out there, and many of the ones who reached the refugee centers in Canada early on had never had to face the kind of carnage that his son and his partner had.
“What’s to stop us from staying here?” Joseph said, holding his wife close to him.
“Nothin’.” Burt shrugged. “I’m not gonna stop you. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us won’t be moving’ on.”
“Who put you in charge, anyway?” Andre demanded
There was a buzz through the crowd. Burt sort of thought that was a good question.
“I think everyone here is forgetful,” Tamara said sharply. Every one turned their heads to look at the soft, but stern “Mama Chang.” It amused her that people called her that, or so she’d told Burt. He thought her position as near-matriarch, even through she held no real position, was impressive. “Not all of you were there to flee Lima. But several were. If you weren’t there when he called up all of his children’s friends and got them on the road before the roads were shut down, his instincts saved their lives and the lives of their families. If you weren’t there when he spotted the flaw in the shelter at Columbus, they got everyone on the road before shelter was quarantined and the armed forces burned the city. Again, those who came lived, the rest are lost to us forever.”
She lifted her chin and eyed everyone censoriously. “The remainder of you were there, however, when we were in the refugee housing, and he never rested, never let us forget that we would be moving on, whether the government realized how unsafe the borders were or not. And look how that turned out.”
The room went quiet. Burt’s eyes flickered over to Finn and Van, because the first noise, a single sob, came from over there. It was unlike her to panic, but she was leaning over, looking frightened and miserable, and Finn engulfed her in his arms. Burt frowned. She must be exhausted from the flu.
“This isn’t a dictatorship.” Kurt rose, Pippa still in his arms. The crowd’s eyes were on him, some frustrated, some fond. “You’re all free to make your own decisions. But we are stronger with greater numbers, and I think many of you know that the best fighters will be coming with us. Those of us who have made it through the wilderness already, and the ones we’ve trained. I’m not being vain when I say that I’m one of the best shots here, even with my bad eye. I’m not exaggerating when I say my almost-husband has a sixth sense about danger that I’ve learned not to question. I’m not leading you astray to tell you that Mike, Van, Rafe, Brittany, Finn, Carol, Mama Chang, and the others who all will be coming with us when we hit the road all have the sets of skills that are necessary to survive in this world, and we will be doing it together.”
He shifted Pippa in his arms and she sucked on her fingers and looked out at the people. “We want as many people with us as possible who are willing to cohabitate peacefully and make the rest of our lives worth living. I hope that includes everyone. I suggest you start thinking about what your decisions will be, since it won’t be much longer before Forest returns.”
“‘Till then, we’re gonna start preparing ourselves for another exodus,” Burt added. Kurt and Tamara had said it all, really. “We’ll talk again before this all goes down, but for now, keep your eyes peeled, and don’t let your guard down. Finn’ll mark up the newest watchdog schedule, and I’ll work with Joseph on buildin’ up our wall, some. There are gonna be more and more walkers out there, and I don’t want anyone dying because we got cozy. Okay?”
The resistance seemed to have dissipated, for the moment. It was obvious that not everyone wanted to follow this plan, but a few others seemed to be calmer. Brittany, for one, seemed to relax as she leaned into Santana and started talking to her. Kurt sat with Blaine and just laid against his chest. Together with their baby, they looked almost peaceful.
“Nice to be included in the list of potential badasses,” Carol said as she came to sit with them.
“I don’t know what I did to get on that list!” Rafe laughed and leaned on his cane.
Kurt tilted his head and met Rafe’s eye. “Oh. I think you know.”
Their fingers touched, and Rafe accepted a hug and gave Pippa a kiss.
Burt put his hand on Carol’s back. She looked up at him and rose to follow. Behind them, the kids were watching, so he took her outside. It was getting dark, and he hoped that wouldn’t mean they’d be seeing more trouble.
“Interesting meeting,” she murmured.
“Yeah. Real interesting.” Burt leaned against the wall. “He’s right, y’know. I mean, if I had my way, I’d hunker down here as long as we could. But Kurt’s right.”
He pressed a hand to his chest, and Carol’s eyes widened. “What’s going on? I thought you were on board with the Exodus Redux plan. That’s what you were pitching in there.”
“Well, I am. You know. In theory, yeah.”
She touched his hand as he started to rub over his chest. “Are you all right?”
“I’m outta medication. I’ve been out for a month.”
Carol’s eyes went round and her brows shot up. “Are you serious?”
She looked like she wanted to smack him. It was almost funny.
“I’m making it. You know, keepin’ active, stayin’ calm.” He shook his head. “I dunno how well I’m gonna do out there, though, on the run.”
“Well, have Mike and Van go find you some more!”
“First, Van’s not up to it. She’s the latest to get hit by the flu virus, and it’s knocked her flat whether she admits it or not.” Burt shrugged. “And second, Mike’s been lookin’. On every single run since February. We just need a hospital, is all. We need to find a real hospital, with a real stash of meds, and you know how dangerous hospitals are.”
Carol covered her mouth. Then dropped her hands to her side. Then she turned around for a moment, heaving her shoulders as she breathed in and out angrily.
When she whipped around, it startled him for a sec, and then she smacked her palm to the wall beside his head.
“You are not going to die. We need you. Everyone here needs you.”
“After that meeting?” Burt licked his lips. “I’m not so sure about that. Are you sure about that? Because, I dunno about you, but I kinda feel like I’m dead weight here. These kids got it sewn up.”
“What, are you giving up?!”
He grabbed her hand and rubbed it in his own. “Hey! I’m not sayin’ that. Don’t say that. I’m just... I would feel okay for the group if Kurt were leading ‘em.”
“He would not be okay without you,” she muttered breathlessly. “You’re his dad. He’s still a child himself, no matter how much of a fighter he’s grown to be. Hell, if we’re being honest, my son needs you.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just... I’m thinkin’ out loud, I guess. Not sure what I can do right now.”
“Does Tamara know?”
“Yeah. And she’s been givin’ me advice. But once we’re on the move and my stress levels are higher...”
Carol covered her mouth again. Burt thought he saw her blue and green eyes growing wet. He grabbed her and held her to him.
“I’m sorry. It’s not fair to dump this on you.”
“Oh, shut up, you idiot.”
“I-”
She grabbed his face in both hands and stared into his eyes fiercely. Like she might tear his face off in frustration.
Well. There it was, then.
He circled an arm around her waist, cupped the back of her neck, and kissed her with all he had in ‘im.
Burt had realized, for a while now, that Carole would not have wanted him to mourn her forever. She’d seemed upset that it had taken him eight years to even consider someone after Lizzie had died. And maybe he wasn’t really ready to let Carole go, but he probably didn’t have another eight years in him.
***
Rafe wobbled and toppled backward. Before he could properly brace himself to hit the ground, he felt a pair of arms tightening around his waist, and he let out a shriek that sounded not unlike Kurt’s stratospheric high notes.
“Hey, hey! It’s just me!” Nick leaned forward, his chin touching Rafe’s shoulder.
“Oh, fuck.”
“You okay?”
“I just turned too fast.” Rafe breathed in and out slowly. “Um. Help me up?”
Nick lifted him, and when he seemed steady, bent over to retrieve Rafe’s cane. “What happened?”
“I thought I saw- Oh, you know. All this talk about creeps and walkers in the town.” Rafe touched the back of his hair and looked down.
Nick held up a finger, pulled out his gun, and moved around the house, checking the bushes and the trees. Then it was Nick’s turn to let out a scream. His gun went off. Rafe hobbled over quickly, thinking he could at least use his cane as a weapon.
A little tabby cat wearing a red bow tie trotted out of the bushes.
“God damn it. Where the fuck did that cat come from?” Rafe said.
“Brittany found it.” Nick holstered his gun. “Dammit, Burt’s gonna yell at me for wasting ammo.”
The cat stood on a step, licking its paw and staring at them.
“I dunno. That’s some pretty fierce pussy.”
Nick cackled. “Rafe!”
“What. Don’t be a hater.” He leaned toward the cat. “You like fiiish, kitty? Y’know they say owners resemble their pets.”
“Mrrrr.” The cat leaned forward to sniff at him, then darted away.
Rafe grinned, then laughed as Nick grabbed his arm.
“C’mon, hoppy.”
Rafe rolled his eyes, but let Nick keep his arm as they went into the house together.
“David said the meeting was pretty intense,” Nick said.
“Yeah. Well. Life’s speeding up again. All we can do is try to keep up.”
Rafe realized that his metaphor excluded himself. He wondered how long he had, really. If they had to be out there, on the run. Because he could get along, but he could only move so fast, turn so well. Sure it would be easier on the move with a falsie than the way he’d made it up to Toronto, but... Well, if it came down to his life or one of the children, or even one of their better fighters, people probably wouldn’t even question leaving him behind.
“Tell me what you think?” Nick asked.
“I’m no leader. Why do you care what I think?”
Nick looked upward as he shook his head and locked the doors. “Because you’re smart. Smarter’n me, anyway. I just followed David up here. I’d be gone, otherwise.”
“You aren’t- I think everything is a risk. That’s what I think. Staying here could be what kills us. Or leaving could.” Rafe moved into the living room. It looked like his mother wasn’t home yet.
“You think Kurt is overreacting about the walker?”
Rafe side-eyed him. “You can’t overreact to walkers, honey.”
“Oh.” Nick ruffled his short, black hair and sucked in his lips. “Maybe I should go.”
“I could make some tea,” Rafe offered.
Quietly the two of them puttered around the kitchen. Rafe would have offered food, too, but there was nothing he knew how to make. After a few minutes, Nick must have noticed Rafe looking around for food because he led him over to a chair and ducked his head into the pantry. He pulled out some bread and started fussing around.
Rafe leaned his chin on his hand. “I do love a man who knows his way around the kitchen.”
“Don’t tease me,” Nick said in a pouty voice.
“I’m...” Rafe let his jokes die on his tongue. He looked down at his leg, frowned deeply, and rubbed the jerking muscle in his thigh. “I think if we move on, I might be in trouble. That’s what I think. But it’s not a reason to stay here, if it’s more dangerous for others.”
Nick looked back at him. “That’s stupidly selfless. You know, we care about you as much as we do everyone else. I know not everyone in the community is super tight, but people like you.”
“But they don’t need me.”
“Well, we don’t need a baby, but no one is gonna suggest we abandon her.” Nick came over with a plate of toasted cheese on bread.
“People do need her. They need what she represents. Outside of our little group?” Rafe laughed. “People think she’s a miracle child. They think Kurt is a miracle. Y’know. Not that I don’t-- but most of them never even knew that some guys could get pregnant, and under those conditions? It seems utterly impossible, but it happened, and she’s healthy, and... It just tells them in their hearts and heads that impossible, wonderful things can still happen. They need her.”
“Okay. Case made. I wasn’t saying that we should, you know.”
“I’m just saying that people are going to be a lot less willing to part with that little baby than a smart-ass hoppy queer.”
“Rafe!” Nick shot up and hugged Rafe around the shoulders, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “Stoppit. Why do you feel so worthless?”
“Oh. Don’t touchy-feely me.”
“Does that mean you want me to stop hugging you?”
“No, it means I want you to stop trying to shrink my head.” Rafe looked back at Nick and curved his lips slightly. “I like it filled with air.”
“You and me, gorgeous. Two dumbfuck scarecrows in this crazy-ass wasteland of Oz.” Nick stepped back and did a twirl. “Maybe I’m brain-less, maybe I’m wise!” he sang.
Rafe held his tea to his mouth and fought a laugh.
“But you’ve got me seeing through different eyes!”
“Stop it. You’re just lonely.”
“Lonely doesn’t alter your gender orientation,” Nick argued.
“You mean sexual orientation, and yes, it does. Look at prisons.”
Nick gently touched Rafe’s hair. “This isn’t a prison. We’re not trapped here. I could just as easily go up to Mama Chang-”
“Oh, dear God!”
“Or your mom-”
“I think she’s spoken for, actually.”
“Or I could flirt with Tina or Van, or Deirdre, or Myra-”
“I’m pretty sure Myra sings with Sappho by the full moon, but nice try.”
“You think so?” Nick sighed. “Everyone is gay. Why can’t I be a little gay?”
Rafe cupped his chin in his hands and watched Nick. His strong neck, his sharp nose, the smattering of stubble along the easy slope of his jawline. His bicep muscles strained the sleeves of the worn blue shirt he was wearing, and he moved gracefully, like the dancer Rafe knew him to be from the town’s “social” nights and Kurt’s stories of the good old Warbler days.
“You annoy me more than I thought it was possible for any other human being to annoy someone,” Rafe said.
Nick’s eyes went wide. “Well... thanks.”
“In the end, I don’t know if it matters if you’re straight, or gay, or bi, or genderqueer. I’m just... I think in the end I’m really just scared,” Rafe admitted.
“Of walkers?” Nick raised a brow. “‘Cause I’m not scary.”
“You’re terrifying. I mean, seriously. I didn’t need another excuse to have abandonment issues after my father. See, the thing about Kurt was that, first, he’s gorgeous, of course-”
“Of course.”
“But he’s also unavailable, and probably far, far too nice to leave me behind. So I totally hate you for arguing that you wouldn’t leave me behind, because I don’t know if I can trust you. Kurt wouldn’t. He would... He would pull some magic out of the air, because he’s magical. We all know it. He senses walkers before they attack, pops babies between fighting them off, and pretty much runs this camp, whether the few who have put him in the mommy-track in their heads like it or not. With the help and support of his well-trained menagerie of freaks, but still.” Rafe covered his mouth and looked off at the ceiling. “But what if you’re just saying that. What if you left me?”
His voice grew soft and wobbly. “I can’t risk it, honey.”
Nick pulled out a chair and sat down. “I wouldn’t-”
“Because, he did. My boyfriend. He left me.” Rafe swallowed. He had forcibly, willfully not thought about that day for a very long time. Just letting the memory have room in his mind made him a little crazy. “I was trapped. And he threw the hacksaw at me. He threw it at me and ran. He left me.”
Nick’s curvy, sarcastic lips went limp. His eyes flitted over Rafe’s face as he seemed to try to find some words, but there were none.
“And I... I can’t survive that again. I can’t believe I survived it at all. It just doesn’t make sense for me to be sitting here, breathing. Talking. Having tea.” Rafe shook his head rapidly. “It’s unreal.”
Nick swallowed. The corners of his eyes narrowed, and his brows bunched together. He reached over for Rafe’s hand.
Rafe pulled away.
Then Nick slapped his hand lightly, and while Rafe was still surprised, grabbed it again and held it in his own, firmly.
“I’m not magic. And you don’t have to let me in. I get it.” Nick kept his eyes fixed on Rafe, and they sat in the quiet for a long time.
“I need to get to bed,” Rafe murmured, finally.
“Oh. Well.” Nick rose and collected the dishes.
Rafe pushed himself up, stumbled, and slammed his palm against the table.
“Are you ever going to get used to that leg, hoppy?”
A wry smile returned to Rafe’s lips. “I have you people fooled. You think I fall all the time because I’m a crip-”
“God, Rafe! Stop saying that!”
“But I’m 6’1, okay? I grew five inches in a year. I’m all legs and neck, like a spindly giraffe. I always fell all over myself.” Rafe took his cane and paused. “I’m not graceful unless I’m running.”
Nick came over to him and offered an arm. Rafe looked at it, and hobbled out of the kitchen. Nick’s footsteps were quiet.
“Do you want to lock up after me? Or...”
“No,” Rafe said after a moment. “C’mere.”
Nick followed. They ended up in the bedroom, and Nick was looking at him curiously, under bushy bangs that needed to be cut.
“I don’t... I don’t like talking about... about him. I don’t want to be alone.”
Nick took a breath and nodded. He tentatively reached for Rafe, then pulled him close and rubbed his back.
Another miracle. Rafe wasn’t crying. He was shaking, but not crying.
“I’m sure he’s sorry. I’m sure he regrets what he did, every damn day of his life.” Nick squeezed Rafe tighter.
“He doesn’t. He doesn’t anything. I saw him later... shambling around.”
“Oh. D’ja put ‘im down?”
“No.”
“He would have, though. Regretted it. You don’t leave someone like that and not hate yourself forever. When they grabbed Jeff, we... we almost ran right into the herd to grab him, but they’d already torn ‘im apart. Tore his belly right open, poor little guy.” Nick’s voice tightened to a squeak at the end.
Rafe petted the back of Nick’s head and just let his warmth enter his body.
“You’re only human, Nick.”
Rafe caught his breath, and pulled Nick forward. He dropped himself down on the bed and unfastened his leg. Nick sat down with him, watching wordlessly. After a moment, he reached over and touched Rafe’s thigh. Rafe let Nick’s hand explore.
“How the hell did you do that? Balls of steel!”
Rafe laughed and flopped back on the bed. His hands rested on his stomach. “There were walkers coming, and I was frantic and full of adrenaline. The hard part was getting away from them while trailing blood. Oh, and... the blowtorch.”
“Blowtorch.”
“Girl, I am not even kidding with you; I am one lucky bastard. If I hadn’t found that friggin’ blowtorch in the building over so I could heat up some metal and... I would have bled out within a couple of minutes, I’m sure.”
Nick blinked. Then touched his stomach like he might be sick, then crawled up into the bed with Rafe. His eyes were shining a little.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Like I said, it’s mystifying to me, too!”
Nick kicked off his shoes and curled an arm around Rafe’s stomach. “You’re a miracle. You’re a miracle, too.”
“Oh, come on-”
“You are. You so are.”
“Nick...” Rafe’s heart was speeding up. He wanted to make it stop, at the same time he just... He just wanted someone to hold him.
“You’re a miracle, and you are grace.”
“I’m...” Rafe laughed. “Oh. That is sweet. Even for a bitter, jaded so-and-so such as myself.”
As Nick’s hand touched Rafe’s blond curls, Rafe rolled over onto his side, and his fingers moved over Nick’s cheekbone. They didn’t kiss. Their touches weren’t yet sexual. But that night, they curled together like two battered flowers against a cruel winter wind.
Title: Only Human
Pair: Klaine! and others
Word count: 7474
Summary: The refugee town makes wedding plans (and other plans), and Kurt and Rafe boggle at what they’ve survived.
“I want your ugly-”
Rafe glared across the living room at Nick grinding his hips. “Stop that.”
“I want your disease-”
“Stop.”
Nick waggled his brows and swiveled his hips to beat Elvis. “I want your everything, as long as it’s free!”
“Oh, for goodness sakes.” Rafe threw down the white fabric he had been working with.
“I want your love!” Nick continued to sing, strutting across the room on his toes, like he was wearing invisible heels. Tina hopped up to dance with him.
“Love love love,” Blaine sang as he came into the room.
“I want your love!” They all sang together. Blaine grabbed one of Saffire’s hands and started dancing with her.
“I’m surrounded,” Rafe said. Then fled from the “Warbler” cheerfulness. Now Saff and Tina had been converted into Warblettes.
It wasn’t that Nick’s sudden attentions weren’t adorable, in their way. It was that Rafe really hadn’t the slightest what to do with them, and they made him scared. Although, maybe at the end of the day it didn’t matter if he was really in love with Rafe. If he was really gay or bi, or just lonely. Maybe at the end of the day, you simply either had someone in your bed to hold, or you didn’t. He drifted toward the bedroom and poked his head inside.
Kurt was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing his glasses and writing on a pad of paper with determination.
“Lookin’ studious,” Rafe chirruped.
Kurt’s eyes lifted. He touched his glasses with one finger. “Hmph. Well, they make the scar less noticeable, anyway.”
“I hardly even see it, anymore.” Rafe strolled over to the bed. “Of course, when I met you, your face was wrapped up in gauze, and your abs looked like you’d swallowed a prize-winning pumpkin-”
“Why, thank you, sweetie!”
“-So maybe I’m not the best determiner of whether you look as good as you did before. S’all I’m sayin’.”
Kurt bowed his head and continued writing. “Don’t be shady, be a lady.”
“Hmph.” Rafe sat on the bed next to him and smiled. “I think you do have enough fabric. We did the measuring just now, and you should be fine.”
“Oh, good. Thanks. That’ll save me a little time, if I have the materials. I’ll get to sewing them together sometime tonight, I think.”
“I’m not very homey, or I’d help you with that, too.”
Kurt was quiet a moment, then reached over and touched Rafe’s hand. “I just can’t thank you enough for being there for us.”
“I love you. I want you to have the most fabulous wedding ever. Don’t look at me like that.” Rafe smirked as Kurt lifted up his glasses and rested them on the top of his head. “I’m okay. Better than before, anyway. We all have our dark moments.”
“And some of us don’t come back from those,” Kurt murmured as he squeezed Rafe’s hand.
“True enough.” Rafe looked at their hands. “You had one. Right after Pippa was born.”
“I did not.” He gestured with a hand. “I was just... Hormonal. Disoriented. Anxious. And... things.”
“I noticed.”
“I know you notice.” Kurt leaned over and kissed Rafe’s cheek. “Thank you for keeping an eye on us.”
“Do you still feel that way? You always seem so strong these days.”
“I just got over a flu from Hell. I’m not always strong.”
“That’s a virus, not-” Rafe rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Supermom. Be that way.”
Kurt looked down at his loose, distinctive handwriting. There were pictures, shaded darkly in the corners of the pages. Two figures standing on the hill overlooking a mall with walkers scattered everywhere. “I feel that way, sometimes. But... I’ve been thinking back, lately. While I was sick, getting better but still too tired to do much, I started trying to remember all the things that happened while we were down there. I made some notes along the way, wrote a few things...”
He looked up and narrowed his eyes. The scar on his right eye seemed more prominent for a moment.
“I don’t know how I did it. I think back to what I was doing, all the stress we had on us from moment to moment, and it’s like I’m remembering someone else’s life. And it seems impossible for anyone to do what we did. What I did.” Kurt touched his cheek. “Then I think back to before, when I was a silly teenager, whose biggest problems involved a bully stalking and assaulting and threatening to kill me-”
“Oh, Christ on a cracker, honey!”
“And that doesn’t seem like my life either.” Kurt tilted his head to the side. “The whole world seems... disorientingly unreal.”
Rafe rubbed his left hand over their intertwined fingers. “I don’t know what to tell you about that, hon.”
“I think I compartmentalized myself insane.”
Rafe raised a brow, and Kurt bumped his shoulder and smiled, slightly. “Like you’re a pro at compartmentalizing.”
Rafe drew in a deep breath and looked away.
“I just... Sometimes...” He shrugged and sighed. “But then, I take Pippa in my arms, or we’re all together in the meeting hall, or I’m dancing with Blaine in the kitchen, or in bed with his arms around me, and everything clicks right again. Too many reality shocks. The walking dead. A baby. Toronto.”
“Oh!” Rafe laughed. “Was Toronto that shocking?”
“It was traumatizing. I think we’re mostly over it, now.”
Rafe rubbed a thumb over the thick scars on his wrist, and nodded, slowly.
Kurt flopped back on the bed and looked through his pages one by one. “I imagine, sometimes, someone is going to find this, and they’ll read it...”
Rafe nodded. “History in the making.”
“No, they’re going to say, ‘what the fer-reak is this?!’”
Rafe grabbed him and crowed with laughter.
“Flow-ers!” Brittany sang. She bounced over to Santana and put a string of folded pieces of paper in her lap. They did look like flowers.
“Oh, wow. These are nice. For me?”
“No! For the wedding. It’s Kurt and Blaine-- it pretty much has to be pretty!” Brittany trailed her fingertips over the points of each flower.
“These are nice. I bet Blainers cries.” Santana chuckles and leaned her head on Brittany’s shoulder.
“Then when we have babies and get married, they can decorate for us!”
Santana looked up at her.
“There’ll be so much glitter!”
Santana’s hand touched her cheek. “When we get married, and have babies, it will be the best ceremony that ever was. And our babies will be the sweetest and most beautiful.”
“You could have Rafe do it.” Brittany fluffed her short hair. “I mean, I know that you and I can’t really, but he’s blond. It would be like throwing some of me into our baby.”
“That’s a really smart idea.” Santana took Brittany’s hand. “Okay. Let’s start putting up some of these flowers so we can see how many more we need?”
“Okay.” Brittany took a string and stood up with it. She paused. “Am I still the girl you love?”
“Of course you are. Why would you say that?”
“Because... I’m not the same. I’m not. The wedding is making me feel more normal, but the rest of the time, I’m new. And I’m not always sure why you’d like this new girl.”
Santana turned to Brittany and took her hands. “Because she saved me. Because she’s been right by my side, even when I couldn’t stop crying, even when I got so sick. She has all of old Brittany’s sweetness that I love, and yeah, there’s something new.”
She shrugged. “I’m not exactly the same as I used to be, either.”
“You like people more.”
Santana shook her head. “I always liked some of them. But it was hard to let them get close, and way easier and more fun to be mean. Now I don’t have a chance to show a lot of the people I really liked how I felt about them.”
Brittany looked down at Santana’s hands, then pulled her close and put her arms around her waist.
“Like Mercedes?”
“I wish I knew what happened to her. We could’ve been such good friends if I hadn’t been so damn defensive and angry all the time.” Santana sighed. “Kurt’s another one, and I think we’re all so lucky to still have him.”
“I always liked Kurt.”
“You know that made me jealous.”
“I know. But he’ll have a husband, soon. Plus, he didn’t ever want me to touch him below he waist, so that’s no fun.” Brittany smiled. “Maybe when he has another baby, you can have one too. And they can be best friends.”
“You are so stuck on this baby thing.” Santana rolled her eyes and rested her head on Brittany’s shoulder. “We have to wait, then. Remember how hard it was on Kurt? It’s too hard on his body at his age. We have to wait for it to catch up with the rest of him.”
“I can wait. Everything seems rushed now, though. You know? Everything’s sped up, because we don’t know how much longer we have. We have to grab it while it’s here.” Brittany shrugged and kissed Santana’s cheek. “And I want everything with you.”
“I know.” Santana petted Brittany’s cheek and carded her fingers through the girl’s soft, short hair. She kissed her tenderly, then sucked on her lower lip. A bit of a nibble, and a growl, to promise what would come later that night.
“I want everything with you, too.”
Kurt smoothed his hands over his white suit, which he’d finished sewing together quickly that morning, and assessed himself in the mirror. Their baby was four months old. Kurt was now skinny as a rail. Skinny as he’d ever wanted to be in the life before this one, when he’d constantly watched his calories and felt like the most unattractive boy ever to live. Gaunt, was the word. Not unlike a runway model. The thought made Kurt smile, ironically.
Granted, a lot of that self-disgust was internalized hatred from a world that had reviled his very being, his voice, the movement of his body, his desires, even his thoughts. Now, being a fighter and a father took precedence over stupid insecurities, and that world had pretty much been laid to waste. So he was more concerned that he’d have the strength to protect his loved ones than about the junk in his trunk.
Putting the wedding clothes together had been a trip. His body had changed so much in the past year, expanded and contracted, rather rapidly on both accounts. Produced a child, put forth the sustenance for that child. It was kind of remarkable, actually. And now... Looking at himself, Kurt hoped his body was able to feed her for a bit longer. He worried, sometimes, if he was getting her enough nutrients. He wondered if his weight right now worried his father, and Blaine. Probably, since it had dropped so dramatically while he was ill. Not to mention that word had gone around, briefly, before everyone knew they had a flu outbreak, that he might be pregnant again.
(The town’s reaction had been, overall, simultaneous relief and disappointment.)
Kurt changed quickly out of the suit, hanging it up with Blaine’s so he could put the details on them both later that day, and satcheled up to go take care of the daily work necessary to keep the town running. Of course, he spared a moment to steal Pippa away from Saffire for some snuggles first.
He was hurrying along the path by the rows of houses when his eyes caught a figure moving out of the corner of his eye. He stopped immediately and locked his gaze on the movement. It was just barely visible, but he knew that jerky movement anywhere. Drawing in a deep breath, he reached to his side for a weapon that wasn’t there.
“Dammit.” He moved his lips over he word, his mind working rapidly.
The body staggered forward a little. Then, its head jerked upward. It saw him. Or rather, smelled him, as its eyes were rotted out. It started to turn. One leg was blown out, obviously, and it dragged it along behind as it struggled toward Kurt. The thing wasn’t exactly fresh, but it did still have some of its face left. An old man, with a grizzled white beard hanging from his chin, along with loose flesh.
Kurt rushed towards Deirdre's old house. It followed.
That was just as well, because Kurt wasn’t looking to hide. He surveyed the house, which was empty as he’d expected, then sprinted to the kitchen and came barreling back onto the porch at the creature. It hissed in surprise as Kurt confronted it, knocking it to the ground and stabbing its head repeatedly with the knife he’d found.
He didn’t stop until it ceased to move, and then he hacked the head off and stepped back. They would have to scan the whole area. There was a weakness in their defenses somewhere. His heart jerked at the thought that one of the men on the wall might have gone down, or that this one had slipped through elsewhere, and might have happened upon any one of their less adept fighters.
Blaine embraced Santana tightly and tried to catch his breath. She just laughed and shook her head when he pressed his hand to his chest.
“Oh, Blainers!” she said.
“No, no, this was...” Blaine touched the brightly colored paper flowers hanging around the meeting hall that Santana and Brittany had started. “This is too sweet.”
“Everyone wants to see you two love-sick puppies get up in front of what’s left of the world and lay one on each other,” Santana said. “It’ll do everybody some good.”
“Rituals are important.” Blaine turned a small paper bouquet around in his hands.
“Sure are. And I thought maybe we could do something besides funerals?” Santana rolled her eyes, picked up an unfinished batch of flowers, and started folding again. “By tomorrow, the bouquet should be a decent size-- you choose who wants to hold it in your pretty little hands.”
“Well... Neither of us is really... the bride.”
“Spoil sport.” She thought for a minute. “I’ll confer with Britt on that. I’m definitely holding the bouquet at my wedding. Or a bouquet. Anyway. We don’t have much left to do on the decorations. I’ve enlisted some help, but Brittany’s the mastermind behind this stuff. Van’s doing cake, so if you have any questions about that, ask her. I didn’t ask where she got the ingredients, but she’s been on the raiding team longer than anyone, besides Mike.”
“This is all so amazing.” Blaine pressed his lips together, then touched his fingertips to them as he smiled.
“Don’t get weepy on me,” she said in a soft, fond tone. It didn’t last. She pulled several flowers into a line and went back to business. “Who are you going to have as your best man? We made some boutonnieres, too.”
“I was thinking...”
Blaine trailed off as Kurt rushed into the meeting hall.
Drenched in blood.
“Oh, God! No, Kurt!” Blaine sprung up and rushed to his side.
Kurt’s eyes swept over the room. “Where’s my dad? I thought he would be-? We need to-- Honey, I’m fine--” He kissed Blaine’s cheek. “We need run a sweep of the perimeter immediately.”
“What happened?” Blaine grabbed Kurt’s hand and squeezed it tightly. He tried to breathe slowly and slow his heartbeat. Seeing Kurt like that... He felt like he might faint.
“There was a walker.” Kurt’s tone was short and detached. “I took care of it. But I don’t know how it got in, and we need to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“A walker. Inside the town?” Santana’s lips curled back as she dropped the flowers on the table and rose.
“We need to make sure the town is secure.” Kurt nodded slowly, clearly thinking hard as he was speaking. “Then... we need to call a meeting. This is our second unexpected visitor. We can’t let ourselves be surprised again.”
“I’ll alert the watchdogs,” Santana said.
Kurt grabbed her hand and put a still-bloody knife in it. “I don’t want anyone walking around unarmed anymore. It was nice while it lasted, but I’m not willing to lose anyone.”
“Oh, pretty pretty, I don’t go anywhere unarmed anymore. Keep it.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then squeezed Blaine’s shoulder before she hurried away.
As Kurt began to move again, Blaine clutched him tightly to his his chest, and Kurt looked on him with tented brows.
“I really am fine. It was too decomposed to give me much of a fight at all, and it was only the one.”
“I know. I just...” Blaine looked down then gave Kurt a firm kiss.
Kurt petted over his hair. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out, and it’ll be okay.”
But the feeling in Blaine’s stomach told him, no. It wouldn’t be. And something... something really, really felt wrong.
“Would everyone just friggin’ calm down?” Burt boomed over the meeting hall.
After a sweep of the entire town, and a change of the guard on the wall, the rest had been gathered together to discuss the continued safety of their group at this location. Some of the people Burt knew better than others. Most met at the refugee housing, of course, aside from the family and friends he was closer with, but until now, there hadn’t been much dissent regarding the choices of the group.
Burt had to admit, Kurt had called their reaction months ago on this one.
“What are we supposed to do?” Carol asked. “Just wait for the next thing to hit us? Wait for it to take us out while we sit on our asses?”
“The walker was a fluke,” said Andre, a tall man with dark hair. “We’re on that wall every fuckin’ minute. Nothing’s coming through without us seeing.”
“Except the walker Kurt took out. Where were you when that happened?” Santana snapped.
“Now, look-”
“You talk a big game about us ‘little women’ but I wonder how brave you would have been if it had been you, alone and unarmed against one of those fucking things,” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Burt caught sight of Kurt glaring at him and holding his hands over Saffire’s ears. She wiggled away and leaned forward to see the people arguing.
“It came up through the well,” Finn said. He paused just a second as everyone looked at him. “Look, guys, I’m pretty sure. There are scratch marks on the well, and there’s no other place where it might’ve come through.”
“If that were true, we’d all have gotten infected,” Andre argued.
“No,” Kurt said firmly, because he was pointing out the obvious. “We’re all immune to the walking plague. What we aren’t immune to are other illnesses. We still don’t know for sure where the flu came from, and rotting flesh isn’t hygienic. Unsurprisingly.”
“What do you propose we do? Shut down the well?” Andre asked.
“For starters, yes,” Kurt said. His head didn’t quite complete a full swivel. “After that, we need to start building up the walls again, and we need to start packing up.”
The crowd grew loud once again.
“It is spring,” Kurt said loudly, rubbing Pippa’s back to calm her despite the noise. She let out a couple of half-hearted cries. “We weren’t meant to stay here after the weather started to warm.”
“Do we really want to move again?” David asked. Unlike the others, he sounded calm, like he was genuinely trying to explore options. “It’s relatively safe here. We could just fortify our defenses, like Kurt just suggested. Pack in a little tighter and get enough supplies to last through the summer. If they can’t get in, then we could just pick ‘em off as they come up.”
“Your daughter is not going to be safe on the road,” Deirdre said, looking at Kurt. “You know that, right, hon?”
“I’m not an idiot,” Kurt answered. “Blaine and I made it pretty far on our own, if you remember.”
“Look.” Burt stood. “I know we’re settled, and I know people don’t wanna go out there where it’s scary, and hand to mouth, but we always planned on tryin’ to make a break for it when we had the chance. Our time might be runnin’ out here to do that safely.” “What about my dad?” Saffire asked.
“I think that when he gets back, we need to be ready to go. Whatever his news is. We’ve known for a while that he might be able to get a boat for us.” Burt looked out at the people. They were scared. Rightfully so. It wasn’t going to be pleasant out there, and many of the ones who reached the refugee centers in Canada early on had never had to face the kind of carnage that his son and his partner had.
“What’s to stop us from staying here?” Joseph said, holding his wife close to him.
“Nothin’.” Burt shrugged. “I’m not gonna stop you. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us won’t be moving’ on.”
“Who put you in charge, anyway?” Andre demanded
There was a buzz through the crowd. Burt sort of thought that was a good question.
“I think everyone here is forgetful,” Tamara said sharply. Every one turned their heads to look at the soft, but stern “Mama Chang.” It amused her that people called her that, or so she’d told Burt. He thought her position as near-matriarch, even through she held no real position, was impressive. “Not all of you were there to flee Lima. But several were. If you weren’t there when he called up all of his children’s friends and got them on the road before the roads were shut down, his instincts saved their lives and the lives of their families. If you weren’t there when he spotted the flaw in the shelter at Columbus, they got everyone on the road before shelter was quarantined and the armed forces burned the city. Again, those who came lived, the rest are lost to us forever.”
She lifted her chin and eyed everyone censoriously. “The remainder of you were there, however, when we were in the refugee housing, and he never rested, never let us forget that we would be moving on, whether the government realized how unsafe the borders were or not. And look how that turned out.”
The room went quiet. Burt’s eyes flickered over to Finn and Van, because the first noise, a single sob, came from over there. It was unlike her to panic, but she was leaning over, looking frightened and miserable, and Finn engulfed her in his arms. Burt frowned. She must be exhausted from the flu.
“This isn’t a dictatorship.” Kurt rose, Pippa still in his arms. The crowd’s eyes were on him, some frustrated, some fond. “You’re all free to make your own decisions. But we are stronger with greater numbers, and I think many of you know that the best fighters will be coming with us. Those of us who have made it through the wilderness already, and the ones we’ve trained. I’m not being vain when I say that I’m one of the best shots here, even with my bad eye. I’m not exaggerating when I say my almost-husband has a sixth sense about danger that I’ve learned not to question. I’m not leading you astray to tell you that Mike, Van, Rafe, Brittany, Finn, Carol, Mama Chang, and the others who all will be coming with us when we hit the road all have the sets of skills that are necessary to survive in this world, and we will be doing it together.”
He shifted Pippa in his arms and she sucked on her fingers and looked out at the people. “We want as many people with us as possible who are willing to cohabitate peacefully and make the rest of our lives worth living. I hope that includes everyone. I suggest you start thinking about what your decisions will be, since it won’t be much longer before Forest returns.”
“‘Till then, we’re gonna start preparing ourselves for another exodus,” Burt added. Kurt and Tamara had said it all, really. “We’ll talk again before this all goes down, but for now, keep your eyes peeled, and don’t let your guard down. Finn’ll mark up the newest watchdog schedule, and I’ll work with Joseph on buildin’ up our wall, some. There are gonna be more and more walkers out there, and I don’t want anyone dying because we got cozy. Okay?”
The resistance seemed to have dissipated, for the moment. It was obvious that not everyone wanted to follow this plan, but a few others seemed to be calmer. Brittany, for one, seemed to relax as she leaned into Santana and started talking to her. Kurt sat with Blaine and just laid against his chest. Together with their baby, they looked almost peaceful.
“Nice to be included in the list of potential badasses,” Carol said as she came to sit with them.
“I don’t know what I did to get on that list!” Rafe laughed and leaned on his cane.
Kurt tilted his head and met Rafe’s eye. “Oh. I think you know.”
Their fingers touched, and Rafe accepted a hug and gave Pippa a kiss.
Burt put his hand on Carol’s back. She looked up at him and rose to follow. Behind them, the kids were watching, so he took her outside. It was getting dark, and he hoped that wouldn’t mean they’d be seeing more trouble.
“Interesting meeting,” she murmured.
“Yeah. Real interesting.” Burt leaned against the wall. “He’s right, y’know. I mean, if I had my way, I’d hunker down here as long as we could. But Kurt’s right.”
He pressed a hand to his chest, and Carol’s eyes widened. “What’s going on? I thought you were on board with the Exodus Redux plan. That’s what you were pitching in there.”
“Well, I am. You know. In theory, yeah.”
She touched his hand as he started to rub over his chest. “Are you all right?”
“I’m outta medication. I’ve been out for a month.”
Carol’s eyes went round and her brows shot up. “Are you serious?”
She looked like she wanted to smack him. It was almost funny.
“I’m making it. You know, keepin’ active, stayin’ calm.” He shook his head. “I dunno how well I’m gonna do out there, though, on the run.”
“Well, have Mike and Van go find you some more!”
“First, Van’s not up to it. She’s the latest to get hit by the flu virus, and it’s knocked her flat whether she admits it or not.” Burt shrugged. “And second, Mike’s been lookin’. On every single run since February. We just need a hospital, is all. We need to find a real hospital, with a real stash of meds, and you know how dangerous hospitals are.”
Carol covered her mouth. Then dropped her hands to her side. Then she turned around for a moment, heaving her shoulders as she breathed in and out angrily.
When she whipped around, it startled him for a sec, and then she smacked her palm to the wall beside his head.
“You are not going to die. We need you. Everyone here needs you.”
“After that meeting?” Burt licked his lips. “I’m not so sure about that. Are you sure about that? Because, I dunno about you, but I kinda feel like I’m dead weight here. These kids got it sewn up.”
“What, are you giving up?!”
He grabbed her hand and rubbed it in his own. “Hey! I’m not sayin’ that. Don’t say that. I’m just... I would feel okay for the group if Kurt were leading ‘em.”
“He would not be okay without you,” she muttered breathlessly. “You’re his dad. He’s still a child himself, no matter how much of a fighter he’s grown to be. Hell, if we’re being honest, my son needs you.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just... I’m thinkin’ out loud, I guess. Not sure what I can do right now.”
“Does Tamara know?”
“Yeah. And she’s been givin’ me advice. But once we’re on the move and my stress levels are higher...”
Carol covered her mouth again. Burt thought he saw her blue and green eyes growing wet. He grabbed her and held her to him.
“I’m sorry. It’s not fair to dump this on you.”
“Oh, shut up, you idiot.”
“I-”
She grabbed his face in both hands and stared into his eyes fiercely. Like she might tear his face off in frustration.
Well. There it was, then.
He circled an arm around her waist, cupped the back of her neck, and kissed her with all he had in ‘im.
Burt had realized, for a while now, that Carole would not have wanted him to mourn her forever. She’d seemed upset that it had taken him eight years to even consider someone after Lizzie had died. And maybe he wasn’t really ready to let Carole go, but he probably didn’t have another eight years in him.
Rafe wobbled and toppled backward. Before he could properly brace himself to hit the ground, he felt a pair of arms tightening around his waist, and he let out a shriek that sounded not unlike Kurt’s stratospheric high notes.
“Hey, hey! It’s just me!” Nick leaned forward, his chin touching Rafe’s shoulder.
“Oh, fuck.”
“You okay?”
“I just turned too fast.” Rafe breathed in and out slowly. “Um. Help me up?”
Nick lifted him, and when he seemed steady, bent over to retrieve Rafe’s cane. “What happened?”
“I thought I saw- Oh, you know. All this talk about creeps and walkers in the town.” Rafe touched the back of his hair and looked down.
Nick held up a finger, pulled out his gun, and moved around the house, checking the bushes and the trees. Then it was Nick’s turn to let out a scream. His gun went off. Rafe hobbled over quickly, thinking he could at least use his cane as a weapon.
A little tabby cat wearing a red bow tie trotted out of the bushes.
“God damn it. Where the fuck did that cat come from?” Rafe said.
“Brittany found it.” Nick holstered his gun. “Dammit, Burt’s gonna yell at me for wasting ammo.”
The cat stood on a step, licking its paw and staring at them.
“I dunno. That’s some pretty fierce pussy.”
Nick cackled. “Rafe!”
“What. Don’t be a hater.” He leaned toward the cat. “You like fiiish, kitty? Y’know they say owners resemble their pets.”
“Mrrrr.” The cat leaned forward to sniff at him, then darted away.
Rafe grinned, then laughed as Nick grabbed his arm.
“C’mon, hoppy.”
Rafe rolled his eyes, but let Nick keep his arm as they went into the house together.
“David said the meeting was pretty intense,” Nick said.
“Yeah. Well. Life’s speeding up again. All we can do is try to keep up.”
Rafe realized that his metaphor excluded himself. He wondered how long he had, really. If they had to be out there, on the run. Because he could get along, but he could only move so fast, turn so well. Sure it would be easier on the move with a falsie than the way he’d made it up to Toronto, but... Well, if it came down to his life or one of the children, or even one of their better fighters, people probably wouldn’t even question leaving him behind.
“Tell me what you think?” Nick asked.
“I’m no leader. Why do you care what I think?”
Nick looked upward as he shook his head and locked the doors. “Because you’re smart. Smarter’n me, anyway. I just followed David up here. I’d be gone, otherwise.”
“You aren’t- I think everything is a risk. That’s what I think. Staying here could be what kills us. Or leaving could.” Rafe moved into the living room. It looked like his mother wasn’t home yet.
“You think Kurt is overreacting about the walker?”
Rafe side-eyed him. “You can’t overreact to walkers, honey.”
“Oh.” Nick ruffled his short, black hair and sucked in his lips. “Maybe I should go.”
“I could make some tea,” Rafe offered.
Quietly the two of them puttered around the kitchen. Rafe would have offered food, too, but there was nothing he knew how to make. After a few minutes, Nick must have noticed Rafe looking around for food because he led him over to a chair and ducked his head into the pantry. He pulled out some bread and started fussing around.
Rafe leaned his chin on his hand. “I do love a man who knows his way around the kitchen.”
“Don’t tease me,” Nick said in a pouty voice.
“I’m...” Rafe let his jokes die on his tongue. He looked down at his leg, frowned deeply, and rubbed the jerking muscle in his thigh. “I think if we move on, I might be in trouble. That’s what I think. But it’s not a reason to stay here, if it’s more dangerous for others.”
Nick looked back at him. “That’s stupidly selfless. You know, we care about you as much as we do everyone else. I know not everyone in the community is super tight, but people like you.”
“But they don’t need me.”
“Well, we don’t need a baby, but no one is gonna suggest we abandon her.” Nick came over with a plate of toasted cheese on bread.
“People do need her. They need what she represents. Outside of our little group?” Rafe laughed. “People think she’s a miracle child. They think Kurt is a miracle. Y’know. Not that I don’t-- but most of them never even knew that some guys could get pregnant, and under those conditions? It seems utterly impossible, but it happened, and she’s healthy, and... It just tells them in their hearts and heads that impossible, wonderful things can still happen. They need her.”
“Okay. Case made. I wasn’t saying that we should, you know.”
“I’m just saying that people are going to be a lot less willing to part with that little baby than a smart-ass hoppy queer.”
“Rafe!” Nick shot up and hugged Rafe around the shoulders, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “Stoppit. Why do you feel so worthless?”
“Oh. Don’t touchy-feely me.”
“Does that mean you want me to stop hugging you?”
“No, it means I want you to stop trying to shrink my head.” Rafe looked back at Nick and curved his lips slightly. “I like it filled with air.”
“You and me, gorgeous. Two dumbfuck scarecrows in this crazy-ass wasteland of Oz.” Nick stepped back and did a twirl. “Maybe I’m brain-less, maybe I’m wise!” he sang.
Rafe held his tea to his mouth and fought a laugh.
“But you’ve got me seeing through different eyes!”
“Stop it. You’re just lonely.”
“Lonely doesn’t alter your gender orientation,” Nick argued.
“You mean sexual orientation, and yes, it does. Look at prisons.”
Nick gently touched Rafe’s hair. “This isn’t a prison. We’re not trapped here. I could just as easily go up to Mama Chang-”
“Oh, dear God!”
“Or your mom-”
“I think she’s spoken for, actually.”
“Or I could flirt with Tina or Van, or Deirdre, or Myra-”
“I’m pretty sure Myra sings with Sappho by the full moon, but nice try.”
“You think so?” Nick sighed. “Everyone is gay. Why can’t I be a little gay?”
Rafe cupped his chin in his hands and watched Nick. His strong neck, his sharp nose, the smattering of stubble along the easy slope of his jawline. His bicep muscles strained the sleeves of the worn blue shirt he was wearing, and he moved gracefully, like the dancer Rafe knew him to be from the town’s “social” nights and Kurt’s stories of the good old Warbler days.
“You annoy me more than I thought it was possible for any other human being to annoy someone,” Rafe said.
Nick’s eyes went wide. “Well... thanks.”
“In the end, I don’t know if it matters if you’re straight, or gay, or bi, or genderqueer. I’m just... I think in the end I’m really just scared,” Rafe admitted.
“Of walkers?” Nick raised a brow. “‘Cause I’m not scary.”
“You’re terrifying. I mean, seriously. I didn’t need another excuse to have abandonment issues after my father. See, the thing about Kurt was that, first, he’s gorgeous, of course-”
“Of course.”
“But he’s also unavailable, and probably far, far too nice to leave me behind. So I totally hate you for arguing that you wouldn’t leave me behind, because I don’t know if I can trust you. Kurt wouldn’t. He would... He would pull some magic out of the air, because he’s magical. We all know it. He senses walkers before they attack, pops babies between fighting them off, and pretty much runs this camp, whether the few who have put him in the mommy-track in their heads like it or not. With the help and support of his well-trained menagerie of freaks, but still.” Rafe covered his mouth and looked off at the ceiling. “But what if you’re just saying that. What if you left me?”
His voice grew soft and wobbly. “I can’t risk it, honey.”
Nick pulled out a chair and sat down. “I wouldn’t-”
“Because, he did. My boyfriend. He left me.” Rafe swallowed. He had forcibly, willfully not thought about that day for a very long time. Just letting the memory have room in his mind made him a little crazy. “I was trapped. And he threw the hacksaw at me. He threw it at me and ran. He left me.”
Nick’s curvy, sarcastic lips went limp. His eyes flitted over Rafe’s face as he seemed to try to find some words, but there were none.
“And I... I can’t survive that again. I can’t believe I survived it at all. It just doesn’t make sense for me to be sitting here, breathing. Talking. Having tea.” Rafe shook his head rapidly. “It’s unreal.”
Nick swallowed. The corners of his eyes narrowed, and his brows bunched together. He reached over for Rafe’s hand.
Rafe pulled away.
Then Nick slapped his hand lightly, and while Rafe was still surprised, grabbed it again and held it in his own, firmly.
“I’m not magic. And you don’t have to let me in. I get it.” Nick kept his eyes fixed on Rafe, and they sat in the quiet for a long time.
“I need to get to bed,” Rafe murmured, finally.
“Oh. Well.” Nick rose and collected the dishes.
Rafe pushed himself up, stumbled, and slammed his palm against the table.
“Are you ever going to get used to that leg, hoppy?”
A wry smile returned to Rafe’s lips. “I have you people fooled. You think I fall all the time because I’m a crip-”
“God, Rafe! Stop saying that!”
“But I’m 6’1, okay? I grew five inches in a year. I’m all legs and neck, like a spindly giraffe. I always fell all over myself.” Rafe took his cane and paused. “I’m not graceful unless I’m running.”
Nick came over to him and offered an arm. Rafe looked at it, and hobbled out of the kitchen. Nick’s footsteps were quiet.
“Do you want to lock up after me? Or...”
“No,” Rafe said after a moment. “C’mere.”
Nick followed. They ended up in the bedroom, and Nick was looking at him curiously, under bushy bangs that needed to be cut.
“I don’t... I don’t like talking about... about him. I don’t want to be alone.”
Nick took a breath and nodded. He tentatively reached for Rafe, then pulled him close and rubbed his back.
Another miracle. Rafe wasn’t crying. He was shaking, but not crying.
“I’m sure he’s sorry. I’m sure he regrets what he did, every damn day of his life.” Nick squeezed Rafe tighter.
“He doesn’t. He doesn’t anything. I saw him later... shambling around.”
“Oh. D’ja put ‘im down?”
“No.”
“He would have, though. Regretted it. You don’t leave someone like that and not hate yourself forever. When they grabbed Jeff, we... we almost ran right into the herd to grab him, but they’d already torn ‘im apart. Tore his belly right open, poor little guy.” Nick’s voice tightened to a squeak at the end.
Rafe petted the back of Nick’s head and just let his warmth enter his body.
“You’re only human, Nick.”
Rafe caught his breath, and pulled Nick forward. He dropped himself down on the bed and unfastened his leg. Nick sat down with him, watching wordlessly. After a moment, he reached over and touched Rafe’s thigh. Rafe let Nick’s hand explore.
“How the hell did you do that? Balls of steel!”
Rafe laughed and flopped back on the bed. His hands rested on his stomach. “There were walkers coming, and I was frantic and full of adrenaline. The hard part was getting away from them while trailing blood. Oh, and... the blowtorch.”
“Blowtorch.”
“Girl, I am not even kidding with you; I am one lucky bastard. If I hadn’t found that friggin’ blowtorch in the building over so I could heat up some metal and... I would have bled out within a couple of minutes, I’m sure.”
Nick blinked. Then touched his stomach like he might be sick, then crawled up into the bed with Rafe. His eyes were shining a little.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Like I said, it’s mystifying to me, too!”
Nick kicked off his shoes and curled an arm around Rafe’s stomach. “You’re a miracle. You’re a miracle, too.”
“Oh, come on-”
“You are. You so are.”
“Nick...” Rafe’s heart was speeding up. He wanted to make it stop, at the same time he just... He just wanted someone to hold him.
“You’re a miracle, and you are grace.”
“I’m...” Rafe laughed. “Oh. That is sweet. Even for a bitter, jaded so-and-so such as myself.”
As Nick’s hand touched Rafe’s blond curls, Rafe rolled over onto his side, and his fingers moved over Nick’s cheekbone. They didn’t kiss. Their touches weren’t yet sexual. But that night, they curled together like two battered flowers against a cruel winter wind.
