FIC: The Fight to Remain
Title: The Fight to Remain
Pair: Klaine
Includes: mpreg, zombies
Word Count: ~1884
Summary: During the zombie apocalypse, it’s hard to stay human.
AN: I'm naughty. And I have two pages to go, so I can finish my paper tomorrow. Yay me!
The road so far...
The Conception of Hope -> Human Kindness -> No Home Left to Run From -> Chasing Ghosts -> Water Break -> Unsafe -> Only Us -> Meanwhile, Back at the Shelter -> Consumerism is Dead -> Camping -> Night Terrors -> No Use for Wind Chimes in the Land of the Dead -> Meanwhile, Back at the Refugee Center -> Hiccup
And now...
It was hard watching Kurt struggle so much. Two weeks more on the road with no car that worked. They had scavenged some supplies, but it was never enough, and the most alarming thing was not getting enough water.
When they had to run, Kurt panted hard, and when they were trekking down the road, he put his hand on his back and tried to pretend that he wasn’t having a hard time...
But he was.
Twenty-five weeks. It was getting so cold. Kurt was getting bigger. Or his belly was, anyway. The shadows under his eyes were long and his cheek was thin. Blaine’s heart jerked when he looked at Kurt. Every time he had to push the thought out his head that he might lose him to this pregnancy instead of the plague that had killed the rest of the world.
At the bare minimum, Blaine was grateful to that kid from the group of bandits who had stolen their supplies and stripped their car. He’d left Kurt’s maternity clothes in there even if they’d taken their coats and everything else, so as the weather became more and more of an issue, and they were heading north to boot, Kurt was able to layer on a several tops and cardigans. Blaine had pilfered a wool jacket for Kurt off of a dead body, and while it was dirty and didn’t really close in the front, Kurt was able to fasten the top few buttons. It kept him from outright freezing.
When Kurt caught his eye, there was something gentle there. And that was an unending mystery to Blaine, because he was terrified, and angry, and he knew that he looked a bit deranged. But Kurt took his hand and pulled him closer anyway. Sometimes he would stop walking just to give Blaine a tender kiss and tell him how very much he loved him. Often, he wouldn’t even stop, but he would put Blaine’s hand, the one that wasn’t carrying a baseball bat, onto his belly so he could feel their baby kicking, rolling, hiccuping, and every time, his brows smoothed over and love pushed the rage out of his heart.
Sometimes, Kurt would grow too weary, and Blaine would pull him to the side of the road and help him to the ground to rest while he held guard.
“You look so cute,” Blaine murmured one afternoon. The shotgun was strapped to his back, not that he wanted to waste shells or make the noise, and the titanium ball bat was ready in his hand, so if any thing, or anyone came their way, he was ready to defend. Meanwhile, Kurt sat on the ground, one knee bent as he leaned back on his palms.
“I look cute, hm? Knocked-up apocalypse chic?”
“You rock this look, babe.”
“We should find a camera. Take some pictures for my future as a paternity model.”
Blaine chuckled. He stiffened, then turned around, looking for where he’d heard the noise. Kurt’s fingers slipped around the shovel he’d been carrying. Blaine spotted it first, and ran up to it to bash its head in.
CRUNCH.
“It’s done.” Blaine whipped around to make sure nothing was coming for Kurt, especially when he’d have a hard time getting up on his own.
Kurt held his hands up for Blaine. Time to move on, whether Kurt was ready or not.
***
They weren’t running, but Kurt was panting anyway. Quietly. There were too many stray walkers around for them to sit down and rest for very long. He could see the strain in Blaine’s eyes whenever he winced or faltered.
So he tried not to, but his body was hardly his own, anymore. It cried for things that he couldn’t provide, his middle shifted and twitched to the will of another, and staying upright was more a matter of luck than his choice. The last time he’d slept, it had been in the middle of the day, because it was warmer then, and they’d remained in the road so Blaine could see any walkers coming for them. Kurt had just leaned against Blaine’s legs and dozed off. Blaine had let him sleep like that for a few hours, so that Kurt would have enough energy when he woke to keep going.
When Kurt saw the abandoned truck on the side of the road, his first thought was a ride. His second was that the hood was probably up for a reason, dammit, and his third was that he’d seen the truck before. Blaine moved forward, and Kurt touched his shoulder and tapped a finger on the shotgun on his back. He nodded, pulled it off and gave it to Kurt to cover.
Kurt couldn’t see what was happening on the other side of the truck, but he could hear Blaine taking out the walkers. His boy had really manned up lately. It seemed the weaker Kurt felt, the stronger and more aggressive Blaine became. It was frightening, but the Blaine he knew always came back to him with a touch or a kiss. Hopefully, he always would. Strange, for Kurt to be the tie to humanity now. He supposed the very human act of procreation had shuffled him into that role despite his own initial foray into antisocial lunatic-hood.
He felt tightness over his belly and took a few steps forward. Sometimes this would happen, and if he kept moving, the tightness would go away soon.
When the other side of the truck came into view, Kurt could see that Blaine had killed two walkers who had been feeding on a man. He recognized him as one of Angus’ minions, and Blaine had his bat to the man’s throat.
“The car broken? Hm? Kurt, you wanna look?” Blaine was practically growling at the man, and Kurt did as he was told and peered under the hood.
“P-please,” the man groaned. “Please, h-help me...”
“The car needs fluids,” Kurt replied after a moment. “I think it’s probably the radiator. Coolant would be a start, but the radiator might need to be replaced.” He looked back at Blaine. The man’s leg had been stripped of flesh. There was no saving him now.
“Please, help me!” the man begged again.
“What am I supposed to do? Turn back time? You’re infected.” Blaine pulled his bat back as though he were about to smash the man’s head.
“No! They have a place up north. They got a cure... Please!”
“You didn’t give a damn about please when you stole the food out of my loved ones’ mouths,” Blaine snapped.
“Blaine,” Kurt said softly.
Blaine glanced up. He looked wild and unfamiliar. Kurt pursed his lips and opened up the truck, looking for whatever they might be able to carry.
“That’s my damn crossbow,” he said. He snatched it, then grabbed Blaine’s pickaxe and a bag of supplies. Then he turned to the man and walked over to him slowly. “Please don’t think of this as anything but what it is. Even if they have a cure, you’re not going to make it ten more minutes, let alone however long it would take us to get to the magical land of food and supplies and no monsters. So know that this is nothing more than an act of mercy. And if you have a god, ask hir for the same.”
Kurt shot him in the brain with his crossbow, then took a deep breath and handed Blaine his pickaxe. He stepped forward to retrieve his arrow, but tears rose quickly in his eyes, and soon they completely overwhelmed him. He turned around and covered his mouth, but Blaine’s arms were around him almost immediately, and his lips were on the back of his neck.
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m... I’m just... so tired.”
“I know you are... I love you, Kurt.”
Kurt flushed, then turned back to Blaine, feeling as though those words could do almost anything right now. Feed the hungry. Heal the sick.
“I love you, too. Let’s keep going. I think I can walk for a little while longer.”
“I want to find you some shelter. You need... You need to rest... For more than a few measly minutes on the pavement.” Blaine gave him another kiss, then went to fetch the arrow.
Kurt frowned, cupping his belly as it tightened again. Then his eyes grew wide and he tensed his jaw. That... that hurt. This didn’t usually hurt at all, even if it was uncomfortable and a little annoying. He drew a breath in and blinked a few times. Blaine came up to him and offered him the arrow. Kurt took it and tried with shaking hands to reset it in the bow.
“Let me,” Blaine offered, taking the weapon from him. “When did we feed you last?”
“I don’t know. There’s some stuff in this bag. Not a lot.” Kurt looked through it and forced another breath, taking a few steps forward to see if he could walk this off.
Blaine caught his hand. “Then let’s stay here a minute. Eat, take a breath, and then we’ll go up the road a ways and see if we can’t secure a house for the night. I don’t want you to be outside for another night with the temperature dropping like this.”
Blaine helped him down into the dirt, where he closed his eyes and rubbed both hands up and down his belly, over and over. After a minute, the pain faded, and he let out a long breath of relief.
A soft smile stretched across Blaine’s lips and he sat with Kurt, watching him as he let his head rest against the car. “She kicking a lot?”
“Senses when I’m nervous,” Kurt muttered. He really should tell Blaine about that pain, but...
What could they do about it? Really, what else could it be, but... Oh, dear God. He couldn’t be having the baby yet. He just couldn’t. It was too soon, and they were in the middle of nowhere... God, he wished he’d read those pamphlets his dad had given him. They might not have prepared him for this, but they would have told him something.
Blaine opened the bottle of water that had been in the bag and pressed it to Kurt’s lips. he drank, gratefully, because he’d been licking his lips ineffectually for a few miles now. His back was killing him, and it was good to be off his feet. So he just let Blaine do what he could with the meager supplies stolen from the corpse in front of them, and put the pain out of his mind to deal with later once they had shelter.
Next Part: Contraception Should Be Considered a Staple
Pair: Klaine
Includes: mpreg, zombies
Word Count: ~1884
Summary: During the zombie apocalypse, it’s hard to stay human.
AN: I'm naughty. And I have two pages to go, so I can finish my paper tomorrow. Yay me!
The road so far...
The Conception of Hope -> Human Kindness -> No Home Left to Run From -> Chasing Ghosts -> Water Break -> Unsafe -> Only Us -> Meanwhile, Back at the Shelter -> Consumerism is Dead -> Camping -> Night Terrors -> No Use for Wind Chimes in the Land of the Dead -> Meanwhile, Back at the Refugee Center -> Hiccup
And now...
It was hard watching Kurt struggle so much. Two weeks more on the road with no car that worked. They had scavenged some supplies, but it was never enough, and the most alarming thing was not getting enough water.
When they had to run, Kurt panted hard, and when they were trekking down the road, he put his hand on his back and tried to pretend that he wasn’t having a hard time...
But he was.
Twenty-five weeks. It was getting so cold. Kurt was getting bigger. Or his belly was, anyway. The shadows under his eyes were long and his cheek was thin. Blaine’s heart jerked when he looked at Kurt. Every time he had to push the thought out his head that he might lose him to this pregnancy instead of the plague that had killed the rest of the world.
At the bare minimum, Blaine was grateful to that kid from the group of bandits who had stolen their supplies and stripped their car. He’d left Kurt’s maternity clothes in there even if they’d taken their coats and everything else, so as the weather became more and more of an issue, and they were heading north to boot, Kurt was able to layer on a several tops and cardigans. Blaine had pilfered a wool jacket for Kurt off of a dead body, and while it was dirty and didn’t really close in the front, Kurt was able to fasten the top few buttons. It kept him from outright freezing.
When Kurt caught his eye, there was something gentle there. And that was an unending mystery to Blaine, because he was terrified, and angry, and he knew that he looked a bit deranged. But Kurt took his hand and pulled him closer anyway. Sometimes he would stop walking just to give Blaine a tender kiss and tell him how very much he loved him. Often, he wouldn’t even stop, but he would put Blaine’s hand, the one that wasn’t carrying a baseball bat, onto his belly so he could feel their baby kicking, rolling, hiccuping, and every time, his brows smoothed over and love pushed the rage out of his heart.
Sometimes, Kurt would grow too weary, and Blaine would pull him to the side of the road and help him to the ground to rest while he held guard.
“You look so cute,” Blaine murmured one afternoon. The shotgun was strapped to his back, not that he wanted to waste shells or make the noise, and the titanium ball bat was ready in his hand, so if any thing, or anyone came their way, he was ready to defend. Meanwhile, Kurt sat on the ground, one knee bent as he leaned back on his palms.
“I look cute, hm? Knocked-up apocalypse chic?”
“You rock this look, babe.”
“We should find a camera. Take some pictures for my future as a paternity model.”
Blaine chuckled. He stiffened, then turned around, looking for where he’d heard the noise. Kurt’s fingers slipped around the shovel he’d been carrying. Blaine spotted it first, and ran up to it to bash its head in.
CRUNCH.
“It’s done.” Blaine whipped around to make sure nothing was coming for Kurt, especially when he’d have a hard time getting up on his own.
Kurt held his hands up for Blaine. Time to move on, whether Kurt was ready or not.
***
They weren’t running, but Kurt was panting anyway. Quietly. There were too many stray walkers around for them to sit down and rest for very long. He could see the strain in Blaine’s eyes whenever he winced or faltered.
So he tried not to, but his body was hardly his own, anymore. It cried for things that he couldn’t provide, his middle shifted and twitched to the will of another, and staying upright was more a matter of luck than his choice. The last time he’d slept, it had been in the middle of the day, because it was warmer then, and they’d remained in the road so Blaine could see any walkers coming for them. Kurt had just leaned against Blaine’s legs and dozed off. Blaine had let him sleep like that for a few hours, so that Kurt would have enough energy when he woke to keep going.
When Kurt saw the abandoned truck on the side of the road, his first thought was a ride. His second was that the hood was probably up for a reason, dammit, and his third was that he’d seen the truck before. Blaine moved forward, and Kurt touched his shoulder and tapped a finger on the shotgun on his back. He nodded, pulled it off and gave it to Kurt to cover.
Kurt couldn’t see what was happening on the other side of the truck, but he could hear Blaine taking out the walkers. His boy had really manned up lately. It seemed the weaker Kurt felt, the stronger and more aggressive Blaine became. It was frightening, but the Blaine he knew always came back to him with a touch or a kiss. Hopefully, he always would. Strange, for Kurt to be the tie to humanity now. He supposed the very human act of procreation had shuffled him into that role despite his own initial foray into antisocial lunatic-hood.
He felt tightness over his belly and took a few steps forward. Sometimes this would happen, and if he kept moving, the tightness would go away soon.
When the other side of the truck came into view, Kurt could see that Blaine had killed two walkers who had been feeding on a man. He recognized him as one of Angus’ minions, and Blaine had his bat to the man’s throat.
“The car broken? Hm? Kurt, you wanna look?” Blaine was practically growling at the man, and Kurt did as he was told and peered under the hood.
“P-please,” the man groaned. “Please, h-help me...”
“The car needs fluids,” Kurt replied after a moment. “I think it’s probably the radiator. Coolant would be a start, but the radiator might need to be replaced.” He looked back at Blaine. The man’s leg had been stripped of flesh. There was no saving him now.
“Please, help me!” the man begged again.
“What am I supposed to do? Turn back time? You’re infected.” Blaine pulled his bat back as though he were about to smash the man’s head.
“No! They have a place up north. They got a cure... Please!”
“You didn’t give a damn about please when you stole the food out of my loved ones’ mouths,” Blaine snapped.
“Blaine,” Kurt said softly.
Blaine glanced up. He looked wild and unfamiliar. Kurt pursed his lips and opened up the truck, looking for whatever they might be able to carry.
“That’s my damn crossbow,” he said. He snatched it, then grabbed Blaine’s pickaxe and a bag of supplies. Then he turned to the man and walked over to him slowly. “Please don’t think of this as anything but what it is. Even if they have a cure, you’re not going to make it ten more minutes, let alone however long it would take us to get to the magical land of food and supplies and no monsters. So know that this is nothing more than an act of mercy. And if you have a god, ask hir for the same.”
Kurt shot him in the brain with his crossbow, then took a deep breath and handed Blaine his pickaxe. He stepped forward to retrieve his arrow, but tears rose quickly in his eyes, and soon they completely overwhelmed him. He turned around and covered his mouth, but Blaine’s arms were around him almost immediately, and his lips were on the back of his neck.
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m... I’m just... so tired.”
“I know you are... I love you, Kurt.”
Kurt flushed, then turned back to Blaine, feeling as though those words could do almost anything right now. Feed the hungry. Heal the sick.
“I love you, too. Let’s keep going. I think I can walk for a little while longer.”
“I want to find you some shelter. You need... You need to rest... For more than a few measly minutes on the pavement.” Blaine gave him another kiss, then went to fetch the arrow.
Kurt frowned, cupping his belly as it tightened again. Then his eyes grew wide and he tensed his jaw. That... that hurt. This didn’t usually hurt at all, even if it was uncomfortable and a little annoying. He drew a breath in and blinked a few times. Blaine came up to him and offered him the arrow. Kurt took it and tried with shaking hands to reset it in the bow.
“Let me,” Blaine offered, taking the weapon from him. “When did we feed you last?”
“I don’t know. There’s some stuff in this bag. Not a lot.” Kurt looked through it and forced another breath, taking a few steps forward to see if he could walk this off.
Blaine caught his hand. “Then let’s stay here a minute. Eat, take a breath, and then we’ll go up the road a ways and see if we can’t secure a house for the night. I don’t want you to be outside for another night with the temperature dropping like this.”
Blaine helped him down into the dirt, where he closed his eyes and rubbed both hands up and down his belly, over and over. After a minute, the pain faded, and he let out a long breath of relief.
A soft smile stretched across Blaine’s lips and he sat with Kurt, watching him as he let his head rest against the car. “She kicking a lot?”
“Senses when I’m nervous,” Kurt muttered. He really should tell Blaine about that pain, but...
What could they do about it? Really, what else could it be, but... Oh, dear God. He couldn’t be having the baby yet. He just couldn’t. It was too soon, and they were in the middle of nowhere... God, he wished he’d read those pamphlets his dad had given him. They might not have prepared him for this, but they would have told him something.
Blaine opened the bottle of water that had been in the bag and pressed it to Kurt’s lips. he drank, gratefully, because he’d been licking his lips ineffectually for a few miles now. His back was killing him, and it was good to be off his feet. So he just let Blaine do what he could with the meager supplies stolen from the corpse in front of them, and put the pain out of his mind to deal with later once they had shelter.
Next Part: Contraception Should Be Considered a Staple