FIC: Chasing Ghosts
Title: Chasing Ghosts
Pair: Klaine
Includes: mpreg, character deaths
Word Count: ~1470
Summary: It's the zombie apocalypse! Kurt and Blaine visit Lima.
The road so far: The Conception of Hope -> Human Kindness -> No Home Left to Run From
And now….
Columbus was burning.
Blaine had seen that on the highway before they’d headed north to Lima. The city was on fire, and no one was trying to put it out. The thought was a little terrifying, and as they’d passed, the smoky scent filled his nostrils and made him think of all the dead bodies being incinerated in the unheeded fire. For almost half an hour, he kept checking the sky to see if firebombs were coming down on the God forsaken land of Ohio, as Kurt had once suggested the government might do to quell the undead hoard.
He didn’t share his thoughts with Kurt, however, because Kurt had fallen asleep, and Blaine wanted him to feel a little better, at least. There was a chance they would find his family and friends dead in two hours. So Blaine quieted himself and his thoughts and the image of his dead mother coming toward them with hunger clear in the dry sockets that had once been her rich, brandy colored eyes.
Instead, he brooded on Kurt’s symptoms because they were here and now, and something he could actually affect. Maybe. As he drove, he periodically reached over to feel Kurt’s forehead. It was cool. Thank God. Thank whoever. Without the fever, this almost certainly was something other than the virus, or whatever it was, that turned people into walkers.
When they were about twenty minutes from Lima, he reached over and Kurt jerked awake.
“What? Is there?” Kurt fumbled around for the gun.
“It’s fine!” Blaine squeezed Kurt’s leg. “I was just checking your forehead for a fever.”
“Oh.” Kurt’s shoulders went loose, and he laughed. A hollow sound.
“We need to stop somewhere.”
“Now? We should have plenty of gas.”
“No, I mean, you need to rest. Really rest. You’ve been carrying me since this happened, and you’re wiped out.”
“I haven’t been carrying you,” Kurt muttered. He rubbed his temples and bent over.
“Yes, you have. You’ve kept me from doing stupid things, you’ve held me when I was flipping out, you’ve taken the lead because I’m too weak to kill those things-”
“You’ve held me, too,” Kurt reminded him. “In the cooler. After we made me an honest woman... Ugh.”
“What is it? Are you okay?”
“Just a headache.”
“You need to eat something,” Blaine advised. “We have food. Crack open a can.”
Kurt sighed and turned to the backseat where their bags were. He zipped it open and grabbed a can at random. “Pineapple. It’s like canned good roulette.”
“Get some beans or something. Some protein. Didn’t you grab cheese from our fridge? We should eat that while it’s still good.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He turned again.
“Babe, I’m worried about you... How long have you been feeling like this?”
“It’s not that bad.” Kurt pulled open the package of cheese and tore off a hunk to eat with the box of Triscuits they’d also liberated from the Anderson house. “Just a couple of days. Today was the first time I’ve thrown up. I’ll probably be fine after I eat something.”
“Then do,” Blaine urged. His eyes flickered over to Kurt as he nibbled on the cheese and crackers, and some pineapple.
They slowed as they approached Lima, and Kurt stashed the food away. Blaine wished he would eat more, but there was no forcing it, he supposed.
“We should check my house... then get out of here. No need to get ourselves stuck here.”
“I think we should check some of your friends’ houses, too. They might be banded together, somewhere,” Blaine suggested.
“Rachel has a pretty big basement,” Kurt muttered. “They could be down there tasting pink.”
They looked to one another and laughed at the memory. It seemed so long ago, now, that time they’d all gotten drunk at the Berry house and spent the week angry with one another over silly, trifling things.
“I hope they’re alive,” Kurt whispered.
***
Kurt’s house was empty, except for a stray walker, which neither of them recognized and Kurt put a quick end to. They looked through the rooms and found a lot of items missing, including pictures, but also clothes and other personal items. They could have been stolen. Kurt grabbed a few things from the kitchen, which had been raided by others already, then checked in his dad’s office. He found the key tucked in between two of the books on his shelf, one on fishing and the other on classic cars and opened up his desk.
Blaine was watching the door when Kurt burst into tears.
“Babe? What is it?” Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him tight.
“His gun is gone. His gun, and his medication. They left, Blaine. They got out!” Kurt wiped his eyes. “They’re probably out there somewhere, wondering if I’m still alive!”
“Then we have to find them.” Blaine’s voice sounded steely with certainty.
Kurt nodded, then led them upstairs. He poked his head into Finn’s room. Open drawers, messy floors. Could have been any day of the week. Kurt’s room was next, and he went in, scanning for whatever items they could carry that would make their short, brutal lives easier. He didn’t spend much time seeking out keepsakes. The one picture he had of himself and his mother was already gone. He did grab a few CDs for the car, though. Musicals, all. He needed some bright-eyed optimism in his life.
Blaine looked around as well and spotted an envelop on Kurt’s vanity.
“Babe?”
Kurt turned around and his eyes widened, grabbing the letter from Blaine’s hands to read it.
“What does it say?”
Kurt pressed his lips together. His heart pounded. “They’re going to Columbus. Carole says they have a shelter there. All we have to do is head back that way, make it through, and we’ll be with them!”
Blaine’s face was frozen, and he took Kurt’s hand.
“What... is it?” Kurt tilted his head to the side slowly.
Blaine squeezed his hand. “You were asleep when we passed Columbus.”
“I was asleep.” Kurt repeated quietly. His heart rate continued to increase, and he stilled his mind, waiting for what Blaine would say. “What happened to Columbus?”
“The city was burning to the ground.”
Kurt pulled away from Blaine and went over to his bed, curling his arms around his middle. He had to will himself not to throw up again. He was amazed that he wasn’t crying, but in reality, he just felt numb.
Blaine took the letter from him and read over it. “They’re not stupid. We don’t know when this was written. They might have headed in that direction, seen trouble, and gone somewhere else.”
“How are we gonna find them?” Kurt shook his head. “Maybe we should just try to find... a bomb shelter or something?”
“I don’t know. But if we’re going to check your friends’ houses, let’s do it quick so we can be in a secure place for nightfall.”
Kurt reached up to Blaine, and they held hands for a moment. Kurt’s mind drifted back to that night Blaine had spent in his bed. Their talks in his room, the family dinners downstairs, and the movies they watched together there.
He didn’t want to spend the night here in any case.
***
There were no letters at any one else’s house. Some familiar faces, since it was a small town, but none of them were still human. Kurt was feeling uprooted and ungrounded and after he saw what was left of Rachel in her house, he puked in their Oscar room, returned to the car, belted himself in and looked to Blaine with uncertainty. They needed to make a decision on what to do, where to go next.
Find safety? Or risk chasing ghosts?
“Kurt,” Blaine whispered. “I really, really want to find someone alive. I think... I need to.”
Kurt nodded. “Back to Columbus, then. And if we don’t find anything, there are some forests southwest of Columbus. People might have gone there away from the city. Some of the Warblers and the rest of your family, too, if everyone thought Columbus was the place to go. There would be animals to hunt... water?”
“Camping!” Blaine said with a little too much enthusiasm.
Kurt reached over to take Blaine’s hand and forced a smile.
There was a thud as a walker slammed into Kurt’s side of the car, and he yelped for Blaine to drive. They pealed away, but not before Kurt recognized the decaying face of Mr. Schuester slobbering on his window.
Next -> Water Break
Pair: Klaine
Includes: mpreg, character deaths
Word Count: ~1470
Summary: It's the zombie apocalypse! Kurt and Blaine visit Lima.
The road so far: The Conception of Hope -> Human Kindness -> No Home Left to Run From
And now….
Columbus was burning.
Blaine had seen that on the highway before they’d headed north to Lima. The city was on fire, and no one was trying to put it out. The thought was a little terrifying, and as they’d passed, the smoky scent filled his nostrils and made him think of all the dead bodies being incinerated in the unheeded fire. For almost half an hour, he kept checking the sky to see if firebombs were coming down on the God forsaken land of Ohio, as Kurt had once suggested the government might do to quell the undead hoard.
He didn’t share his thoughts with Kurt, however, because Kurt had fallen asleep, and Blaine wanted him to feel a little better, at least. There was a chance they would find his family and friends dead in two hours. So Blaine quieted himself and his thoughts and the image of his dead mother coming toward them with hunger clear in the dry sockets that had once been her rich, brandy colored eyes.
Instead, he brooded on Kurt’s symptoms because they were here and now, and something he could actually affect. Maybe. As he drove, he periodically reached over to feel Kurt’s forehead. It was cool. Thank God. Thank whoever. Without the fever, this almost certainly was something other than the virus, or whatever it was, that turned people into walkers.
When they were about twenty minutes from Lima, he reached over and Kurt jerked awake.
“What? Is there?” Kurt fumbled around for the gun.
“It’s fine!” Blaine squeezed Kurt’s leg. “I was just checking your forehead for a fever.”
“Oh.” Kurt’s shoulders went loose, and he laughed. A hollow sound.
“We need to stop somewhere.”
“Now? We should have plenty of gas.”
“No, I mean, you need to rest. Really rest. You’ve been carrying me since this happened, and you’re wiped out.”
“I haven’t been carrying you,” Kurt muttered. He rubbed his temples and bent over.
“Yes, you have. You’ve kept me from doing stupid things, you’ve held me when I was flipping out, you’ve taken the lead because I’m too weak to kill those things-”
“You’ve held me, too,” Kurt reminded him. “In the cooler. After we made me an honest woman... Ugh.”
“What is it? Are you okay?”
“Just a headache.”
“You need to eat something,” Blaine advised. “We have food. Crack open a can.”
Kurt sighed and turned to the backseat where their bags were. He zipped it open and grabbed a can at random. “Pineapple. It’s like canned good roulette.”
“Get some beans or something. Some protein. Didn’t you grab cheese from our fridge? We should eat that while it’s still good.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He turned again.
“Babe, I’m worried about you... How long have you been feeling like this?”
“It’s not that bad.” Kurt pulled open the package of cheese and tore off a hunk to eat with the box of Triscuits they’d also liberated from the Anderson house. “Just a couple of days. Today was the first time I’ve thrown up. I’ll probably be fine after I eat something.”
“Then do,” Blaine urged. His eyes flickered over to Kurt as he nibbled on the cheese and crackers, and some pineapple.
They slowed as they approached Lima, and Kurt stashed the food away. Blaine wished he would eat more, but there was no forcing it, he supposed.
“We should check my house... then get out of here. No need to get ourselves stuck here.”
“I think we should check some of your friends’ houses, too. They might be banded together, somewhere,” Blaine suggested.
“Rachel has a pretty big basement,” Kurt muttered. “They could be down there tasting pink.”
They looked to one another and laughed at the memory. It seemed so long ago, now, that time they’d all gotten drunk at the Berry house and spent the week angry with one another over silly, trifling things.
“I hope they’re alive,” Kurt whispered.
***
Kurt’s house was empty, except for a stray walker, which neither of them recognized and Kurt put a quick end to. They looked through the rooms and found a lot of items missing, including pictures, but also clothes and other personal items. They could have been stolen. Kurt grabbed a few things from the kitchen, which had been raided by others already, then checked in his dad’s office. He found the key tucked in between two of the books on his shelf, one on fishing and the other on classic cars and opened up his desk.
Blaine was watching the door when Kurt burst into tears.
“Babe? What is it?” Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him tight.
“His gun is gone. His gun, and his medication. They left, Blaine. They got out!” Kurt wiped his eyes. “They’re probably out there somewhere, wondering if I’m still alive!”
“Then we have to find them.” Blaine’s voice sounded steely with certainty.
Kurt nodded, then led them upstairs. He poked his head into Finn’s room. Open drawers, messy floors. Could have been any day of the week. Kurt’s room was next, and he went in, scanning for whatever items they could carry that would make their short, brutal lives easier. He didn’t spend much time seeking out keepsakes. The one picture he had of himself and his mother was already gone. He did grab a few CDs for the car, though. Musicals, all. He needed some bright-eyed optimism in his life.
Blaine looked around as well and spotted an envelop on Kurt’s vanity.
“Babe?”
Kurt turned around and his eyes widened, grabbing the letter from Blaine’s hands to read it.
“What does it say?”
Kurt pressed his lips together. His heart pounded. “They’re going to Columbus. Carole says they have a shelter there. All we have to do is head back that way, make it through, and we’ll be with them!”
Blaine’s face was frozen, and he took Kurt’s hand.
“What... is it?” Kurt tilted his head to the side slowly.
Blaine squeezed his hand. “You were asleep when we passed Columbus.”
“I was asleep.” Kurt repeated quietly. His heart rate continued to increase, and he stilled his mind, waiting for what Blaine would say. “What happened to Columbus?”
“The city was burning to the ground.”
Kurt pulled away from Blaine and went over to his bed, curling his arms around his middle. He had to will himself not to throw up again. He was amazed that he wasn’t crying, but in reality, he just felt numb.
Blaine took the letter from him and read over it. “They’re not stupid. We don’t know when this was written. They might have headed in that direction, seen trouble, and gone somewhere else.”
“How are we gonna find them?” Kurt shook his head. “Maybe we should just try to find... a bomb shelter or something?”
“I don’t know. But if we’re going to check your friends’ houses, let’s do it quick so we can be in a secure place for nightfall.”
Kurt reached up to Blaine, and they held hands for a moment. Kurt’s mind drifted back to that night Blaine had spent in his bed. Their talks in his room, the family dinners downstairs, and the movies they watched together there.
He didn’t want to spend the night here in any case.
***
There were no letters at any one else’s house. Some familiar faces, since it was a small town, but none of them were still human. Kurt was feeling uprooted and ungrounded and after he saw what was left of Rachel in her house, he puked in their Oscar room, returned to the car, belted himself in and looked to Blaine with uncertainty. They needed to make a decision on what to do, where to go next.
Find safety? Or risk chasing ghosts?
“Kurt,” Blaine whispered. “I really, really want to find someone alive. I think... I need to.”
Kurt nodded. “Back to Columbus, then. And if we don’t find anything, there are some forests southwest of Columbus. People might have gone there away from the city. Some of the Warblers and the rest of your family, too, if everyone thought Columbus was the place to go. There would be animals to hunt... water?”
“Camping!” Blaine said with a little too much enthusiasm.
Kurt reached over to take Blaine’s hand and forced a smile.
There was a thud as a walker slammed into Kurt’s side of the car, and he yelped for Blaine to drive. They pealed away, but not before Kurt recognized the decaying face of Mr. Schuester slobbering on his window.
Next -> Water Break