Title: Wrecked
Series: No Day But Today
Title: Wrecked
Pair: Klaine
Word Count: 6815
Includes: zombies, mpreg, BIG FEELS, character deaths
Summary: Though most of the Wastelanders are dead, by bullet, arrow, or walker, the survivors continue the fight against the walkers and take care of their injured.
AN: This part and upcoming ones are likely to be emotionally taxing... though maybe that's a given for this fic.
“I wish your friends were smarter,” Kurt said sharply. “All that automatic fire... It’s like they wanted to attract every freakin’ walker in Ontario.”
His arrow sunk into the skull of a walker that had lost most of its skin. Kurt’s eyes flickered back and forth as he selected his next target. There was no one left that he could see of their living attackers... aside from the man bleeding to death on the floor behind him. The walkers had done humankind a favor for once.
“They’re...” The man took a labored breath. “They’re not my friends.”
“You said you were working with them? And then they took your sister. Why would you work with cannibal rapists to begin with? What’s that thought process like?”
He knew he was unnecessarily antagonizing the man, but Kurt hoped it would keep him awake.
“I was... I was leading our group. We ran out of supplies. Couldn’t find more in our area-- not enough, anyway... I lost control. I too was scared what would happen to her if we went our own way.” He let out a bitter laugh. “You’re lucky... An organized, armed group like this? You don’t know what it’s like out there... trying to survive, just the two of you against... fucking everything.”
“I do, actually. For about seven months, until we made it to Buffalo.”
“You’re a tough little guy,” the man murmured. “How old are you again?”
“Seventeen.”
“You don’t sound seventeen.”
“I sound like a Muppet Baby.”
The man laughed and covered his eyes. Kurt narrowed his eyes and focused on the walkers drifting too close to the houses. A lot of them were still distracted, stripping the flesh from those who had died during the shootout .
Santana was going to absolutely lose it, if she hadn’t already.
“Not enough people still at their posts. We need a new plan...” Kurt murmured. “How are you feeling back there?”
“Can’t really feel it anymore,” the man murmured.
“You’re in shock,” Kurt said, more to himself than to his company. He took out another walker and rubbed his forehead. He was getting a little dizzy now himself. Maybe he should’ve taken more time binding his wounds.
More shots fired, and Kurt spotted Blaine on the ground, taking down walkers one by one. Reloading, then taking out more. It was attracting their attention, and the walkers, mouths full of dripping entrails, were starting to look up at him as the more attractive meal.
They always did like the freshest ones the best. Wriggling around, if possible.
“What are you doing?! Don’t...!” Kurt reloaded his crossbow and started aiming for the walkers heading towards Blaine. More and more lifted their heads from their feasting and shuffled towards him.
“Don’t you dare, don’t you dare...” Kurt chanted to himself, then he pushed himself out of the window and yelled, “Stop making a spectacle of yourself!”
Blaine looked up, as did the walkers, attracted to the noise. Out of nowhere, Nick and Mike were at Blaine’s side, firing away. Kurt sat back as he saw some arrows taking out the ones on the other side of the courtyard. He reached for another arrow, but it fell out of his shaking hand.
“You need a doctor, kid,” the man murmured.
“Ditto.” Kurt knocked his head back against the wall. “I need to get someone up here. You can’t be moved... The knife is probably holding your wounds together.”
“I know that. I studied things like... It’s helpful to know what’s going on when you’re auditioning for a redshirt. Helps you die more effectively.”
“An actor, huh?” Kurt tried to push himself up, but swayed and fell to the floor again.
“Stop trying to save the asshole who did this to you. Save yourself.”
“I intend to, but I’m a stubborn bitch. I’ll save you too, if I can.” Kurt pushed himself up again, secured his weapons, and went to make his way down the stairs. He couldn’t afford to wait for the walkers to be cleared out. He didn’t have the strength to spare.
He had to sit on the steps a few times on the way down, but as he went, he felt more capable. His body had gone through worse than this, he reasoned, and by the time he reached the final steps, he was sure he’d make it to the house they’d designated for their wounded.
But the door was open. He spotted the walker just as it looked up at him, hissing and speeding up its jerky movements. A sheet of flesh hung from its working jaws and its belly bulged lopsidedly with the remains of the men who had attacked the town.
Behind Kurt, on the other side of the railing, another walker appeared, grabbing his ankle, and Kurt stumbled back onto the stairs. He fired on the one by the door since it was in his direct line of fire. Then he turned to the walker that had crept up through the railing and was now eagerly drooling over his bloody shoulder.
Kurt looked into the sockets where its eyes had been and shoved his knife right through. It jerked and squalled, and Kurt pushed the knife in deeper. When it fell away, Kurt tried to catch his breath. It had been a while since the walkers had gotten this close while he’d been this weak.
He pushed himself up, stumbled, clung to the banister, and fought to breathe.
***
Until Andre had joined them, Blaine had been a little worried about Mike’s plan to draw the walkers away from the houses. But Andre didn’t seem afraid at all. He pounded out a few, grabbed two of the invaders’ guns, and opened fire on the walkers, sending the bulk of them back a few steps.
He ran backwards until he joined Blaine, then yelled, “Some are gettin’ into the houses. We need to clear these fuckers out so people can get the wounded some help, yeah?”
“Careful with those bullets!” Nick said. “We don’t want anyone getting taken down by friendly fire.”
“Hope everyone’s found a safe spot to hide, by now.” Andre said looked around. “Somethin’s goin’ down in the house over there.”
He nodded toward the house where Kurt had stationed himself. It was the tallest house in town, where he could see, and shoot, the most enemies without them getting a clear shot at him in return. Blaine fell back and looked through the windows. It was hard to hear individual shots with the guys pounding away at the walkers, but Blaine was almost sure that one had gone off in the house. All he could see were some figures moving...
But there should be only the one.
He broke away from the other guys and bolted for the house. The door had been busted open, and a walker lay nearby, its brains splattered over the wall. Then he spotted Kurt, covered in blood and slumping to the ground.
“No!” Blaine moved to his side and lifted him up.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kurt demanded. “Don’t you think we have enough walkers on our asses without making enough noise to announce this little town as an all-you-can-eat buffet?”
Blaine kissed his forehead as he lifted him up. He didn’t care if Kurt was angry. As long as he was still breathing. “Cover us. I’m gonna take you over to the sick house.”
“There’s...” Kurt propped his glasses up on his hair and rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “Look, if I pass out, there’s a guy upstairs...”
Blaine looked behind him warily. “I’ll send in one of the guys to take him out.”
“No, the man who attacked me... Blaine, we have to try to save him. If he’s still alive when we send someone up there, anyway.” Kurt pressed his face into Blaine’s shoulder. His breaths came short and shallow. “I stabbed him. God, I’ve murdered him.”
Blaine pulled Kurt closer to his chest. “Looks like he tried pretty hard to murder you!”
“I know... Please...”
Blaine stared down at him. He was utterly confused, but it was hard to deny Kurt anything. Not when he was upset. Not when Kurt had trusted him so completely. “We’ll get him some help, babe. Okay? Just, you first. We need you.”
Kurt nodded and looked up, aiming with one arm as they left the house. The men’s eyes were on them as they entered the courtyard, and Andre ran up to them, moving in between them and the walkers as they hurried across.
“Get ‘im inside, kid.”
“Thanks.” Blaine said.
“Could you send someone around to the other houses to make sure the are no surviving invaders?” Kurt asked.
“You got it, boss.” Andre saluted. “And could’ja tell all the arrowheads to cut it out? I don’t want anyone getting an arrow in the eye from a well-meanin’ sharp shooter. We can get the rest of ‘em. Promise. This is way easier than Iraq, now that those living shitheads are done with.”
Blaine got them up on the porch, and Kurt set his gun in his lap and lifted the whistle one more time. Three blasts: Knock it off. The men on the ground are moving in.
Blaine knocked on the door once, waited just a moment, then yelled at the top of his lungs, “Open the fucking door guys!”
Kurt’s eyes rounded with astonishment.
When the door opened, David looked at him strangely, then swept a glance over the courtyard. “Um, Blaine-”
“I need a bed. Or something,” Blaine barked as he stormed inside.
“It’s okay. I’m just a little shot,” Kurt told David. “Lookin’ for some OJ. And some blood maybe?”
“Tina’s a little overwhelmed right now,” David said. “But I can pull the bullets and do the stitches. I’m pretty sure.”
“When we’re on the road again...” Kurt muttered. “We gotta pass Tina and Mama Chang around between cars. Have them teaching more people basic medical stuff.”
“There’ll be plenty of wounds to practice on...” Blaine said dryly. He lead the way into the house. The wounded were scattered over the floor and the house smelled like... Well, like blood and death. “God...”
“Yeah.” David shook his head. “It’s um, a little crazy right now.”
A scream came from upstairs. Kurt lifted his head, then looked at Blaine and moved as though he wanted to get down. Blaine held him fast.
“She’s okay. We found a girl-- I think the guys who attacked us kidnapped her, or... Forest knows her? Anyway, she shut the gate on the walkers for us, but she got bit, so we’re treating her,” David explained.
Kurt clutched his chest. “Oh, thank God.”
He sort of wilted into Blaine, who held him tighter and looked around. “Where can I put Kurt?”
David rubbed a hand over his head. “Over here.”
Blaine carried Kurt a few more feet and let him down on a nest of blankets. Kurt winced as his leg hit the floor, and David came over with some supplies.
“We’re running really low on painkillers, and I don’t know if there are more in Mama Chang’s house or not. Kurt, I’m really, really sorry, but-”
“I went through labor without them. I got this.” Kurt took Blaine’s hand and squeezed hard.
Blaine squeezed back and kissed his temple firmly. Kurt’s hair was drenched in sweat. He was in pain, even if he’d learned how to bear it, and Blaine didn’t like that. They should have protected him better. He sort of hoped the man who did this to Kurt had done them all a favor and just died already.
Another rap on the door caught their attention, but David was in the middle of extracting a bullet from Kurt’s leg and didn’t move his hands an inch. “Can somebody get up and get that?”
Myra rose from the floor, touching her bandaged head once, and made her way towards the door. It opened and Finn rushed in.
“Please help, somebody? We need some help!” His words came all in a jumble.
Blaine’s eyes bulged as he saw Van engulfed in Finn’s big arms and a big smear of red over her arm.
“Damn.” David shook his head. “Bring her over here.”
“David, take care of her,” Kurt urged.
Blaine glared at him. “What is wrong with you!? Why do you insist on saving everyone else before yourself?”
Kurt wrinkled his nose at Blaine, but then eyed David seriously. “You need to take care of her first. Trust me.”
Finn rushed over and laid her down by Kurt’s feet. Her eyes were closed, and her skin pale, but not ashy. Blaine scowled at David, daring him to stop working on Kurt.
“It’ll only be a few more minutes,” she said very quietly. “It’s okay, Finn-”
“No, it’s not okay!” Finn yelled. “David, she’s pregnant!”
Van swatted his arm.
“He has to know that if he’s going to help!” Finn argued. He touched her face and bowed over her, shaking.
Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand again.
“She needs to go first,” Kurt repeated.
“Yeah, okay,” David said, not looking up from this work, “but I can’t leave a gaping bullet hole in your leg, Kurt. You’ve already lost a lot of blood. Give me a minute to sew it up, and then I’ll do her.”
There were quite a few eyes on them now. Blaine said nothing, not about the wounds, or the revelation. He just kissed Kurt again, held onto him, and then touched Van’s hand. She must be terrified right now, but she seemed resigned. Like she couldn’t let herself think what would happen if she had lost too much blood already. There was so little control for the two of them now.
Blaine sat back as David turned to Van, and there was another scream from upstairs.
“No, God, no! No! No!” the girl cried wildly. “Please, no, no, NO!”
Kurt rubbed his mouth and looked at Blaine. “Her brother.”
“What?”
“The man who shot me. That’s her brother. I need you to... find Tamara? And let him know we have his sister. Maybe there’s still time for him. He’ll need a transfusion-”
“No one is going to want to give their blood to some psycho who threw his chips in with these people!” Blaine argued. He rose anyway. “We need to start finding everyone else, though. Get a head count of who’s been lost or hurt. And we need your dad down here, because you need some blood...”
He shook his head. “I’ll look for Tamara, too.”
Kurt rested his head back against the wall, pleading up at him with those bright blue eyes of his. Blaine hung his head, took a breath, and then checked his bullets before heading out again.
***
Everything had gotten quiet. That could have been very good, or very bad. Burt had no friggin’ idea, but he couldn’t stand to go check either way. He sat by the stairs, gun in hand, while Saffire rocked Pippa and looked at the door anxiously.
“Do you feel okay?” she whispered. She had her finger in Pippa’s mouth, letting her suckle on it. The baby was getting fussy now, and needed to be fed, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. They had to wait.
“Don’t worry about me,” Burt said.
He’d scared the piss out of her by dropping to the ground a little while ago, but luckily his heart hadn’t decided to go stop on him just yet. He’d just gotten real dizzy, and he was glad that Carol had convinced him to stay behind the scenes with the girls.
The door cracked open, and Saffire shrank back into the shadows. Pippa let out a wail.
“It’s just me, bitches,” Santana announced before heading down the stairs. “This baby always cries when I’m around... Anyway, we had a bit of an invasion during our invasion.”
“What now?” Burt started to rise, slowly.
“Walkers came...” She looked up at him. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I don’t know. He won’t tell me,” Saffire said irritably.
“C’mon.” Santana waved them forward. Then she stopped and grabbed Burt’s arm.
“I can do it,” he argued.
“I really don’t care what you think you can do. We need to get everyone together and see what we’ve got to work with. And I need to get up on the wall and help the guys with the walkers out there tryin’ to creep all up on our stuff, okay?” She heaved a sigh. “And I haven’t seen Brittany in hours. I’m sure Kurt’s going likewise crazy about you and Pip and Blainers.”
Burt leaned on her as they left the basement. It took a while, because despite his protests, he wasn’t up to a lot of movement today. Saffire came out in front of them, but waited, bouncing Pippa and trying to keep her calm.
By the time he’d made it to the top, Blaine was in the main room, a little blood splattered, but not looking too worse for wear. He took one look at Burt and swore with a ferocity Burt had never heard. There was something... off in his eyes. Burt had seen him doped up, and lost, and he’d even seen him fighting walkers, but this was just... off was the only word he had to describe it. It was worrying.
“Calm down, Blaine,” Burt said. “I’m fine.”
“Did he get shot?” Blaine asked a little aggressively.
“I don’t know. I think he’s just old,” Santana said.
“Oh, can it, you snit.” Burt rolled his eyes. “I’m a man with heart problems. You’re surprised I struggle sometimes?”
“Fuck.” Blaine crossed his arms and swept his eyes over Burt. “Well. Okay.” He nodded, his eyes getting a little shiny. “Okay. Who has A positive blood in this camp?”
Burt frowned. “What?”
“Because I can’t get it from you,” Blaine snapped. He ran a hand through his hair. “Santana, can you get him over to the sick house? Tina has her hands full, but they’ll want him where everyone can see him. I need to look for Mrs. Chang, and blood donors. We’ve got a lot of injured, and, and we need to figure out how we’re going to deal with these walkers...”
“Is Kurt hurt?” Burt pressed.
“He’s been shot.” Blaine shook his head, trying to gather himself. “I know it isn’t your fault. He’s just... He’s stubborn. And Van’s hurt too... There are a lot of people hurt. Not so many dead, though. Maybe two or... We got lucky, as far as I know. Maybe one in the sick house that didn’t make it from his wounds... um, Joseph. But we’ll have to bring everyone else out to see, and hope our medicine supply holds up.”
“Where’s Brittany?” Santana demanded. “I want to see her, as soon as I get this lug over there.”
Blaine froze and stared at her for a moment as his eyes widened slowly. He pressed his lips together. Santana’s grip on Burt’s arm grew painful, but he didn’t say anything to the girl.
“Where is she,” Santana said, her voice hollow.
Blaine reached for her, and she smacked his hand, hard.
“Where the fuck is she, Blaine? Where is Brittany? Where is she?”
“Santana, please, just-”
“Shut the fuck up and tell me where she is, you nappy-haired Backstreet Boy!”
Blaine grabbed her shoulders, but she struggled away from him, shoved him hard, and ran out of the house.
Burt rubbed his mouth, then breathed out slowly. “We can make it over there. If you want to go after her...?”
“Let ‘er go.” Blaine looked out after Santana. “The guys are out there. She’ll be as safe there as anywhere.”
“I’m not fooling with you. I do feel better now. I know it’s not the time for it, but I just-” “Can’t be helped.” Blaine put his hands on his hips, moving around restlessly. “Isn’t there some medicine that could...?”
“Yeah. There is. If we could find some.”
Saffire hugged Burt with one arm.
“C’mon. Let’s go find your pappa, huh?” Burt walked slowly out of the house.
Blaine gave Burt a nod, and hurried on his way.
Once Burt had reached the sick house, he was a little overwhelmed with the smell of blood. There were about a dozen or so injured. Maybe more in the other rooms.
“Is my dad in here?” Saffire asked, looking around.
“Dunno...” Burt spotted Tina and went in that direction. “Hey, have you seen-”
“Oh, God!” Tina gasped. “Burt, are you okay? Did you get shot?”
She took his hand and tried to lead him to a chair. Okay, he probably did look pale as death, but this was getting aggravating.
“No, I’m not shot. Look, Tina. I had some palpitations earlier, and I know I look like a walker right now, but I’m fine. You don’t have to spend time you don’t got on me.”
Tina frowned and put her hand on his chest. “Okay. Alright. Um... Saff, your dad is upstairs.”
“Lemme have Pippa, okay?” Burt held out his arms. Saffire looked doubtful, but she clearly wanted to be with her father, so she shifted the baby into his arms and hurried up the stairs, startling only a moment as screams came down.
“The serum,” Tina muttered. “We picked up someone new.”
“Where’s Kurt?” Burt pressed.
Tina pointed over to one of the rooms. Burt rose and touched Pippa’s little hand as he went to see his son. She suckle on her fist, and then let out a little cry of complaint.
“Pippa?” Kurt’s voice rang clearly from the other room.
Burt smiled and went to join them. To his surprise, Finn was there as well, with a tube coming out of his arm into Van’s. Van was just sacked out, her arm freshly bandaged and Finn tucking her into his body with his free arm. Next to her was Kurt, who had one shoulder and one leg bandaged, and his feet propped up. He was pale as milk, but he was reaching for Pippa already with his good arm.
“Dad?” Kurt looked up at him with a frown.
Burt handed Pippa to him and helped her settle in, though by now she was quite fussy. “We’re a pair, huh?
Kurt eyed him fiercely. “You have been keeping something from me.”
Burt shrugged.
“Jerk.” Kurt petted Pippa’s back and lifted his shirt.
“Do you want a blanket?” Finn asked lifting his head. Apparently he was awake after all.
“These people have seen the walking dead and cannibal terrorists. They’ll deal with me feeding my baby,” Kurt said irritably.
“I kinda thought you might be cold,” Finn said. “You’re shaking.”
Burt got up and fetched some more pillows and a blanket, and when he returned, positioned them around Kurt to help him get comfortable.
“Take a nap,” Burt urged. “I’ll keep an eye on you two.”
Kurt nodded wearily. He moved his left arm, very slightly, to cover Pippa as she fed. She continued while he dozed, and Burt touched his head and pulled the blanket up over him as he looked at Finn.
“You could still use my blood. I won’t die if I lose a little, and he could probably use whatever he can get.”
Finn raked his eyes over Burt dubiously and cradled Van next to him. “Do you know how pissed he’d be? Kurt’s tough.”
“Tough is one thing. Massive blood loss is another. Fill me in on what’s been going on?” Burt shook his head and petted Kurt’s hair. He felt inadequate to protect or even support his sons.
***
The courtyard was a macabre jumble of remains. Bodies torn open and blown apart, arrows here and there, rotting walkers busted down and splattered about. And in the middle, sifting through limbs and choking out breath after breath through her tears, Santana. Trying to identify which body had been Brittany’s.
Blaine would have stopped to help her, but he guessed she wasn’t in a mood for the comfort he was able to give at the moment, and he still had pressing, if less appealing business.
He made his way up the stairs of the house where he’d fetched Kurt less than thirty minutes ago. As far as he was concerned, this man deserved to die alone, but the least he could do was tell the guy that his sister was infected and he was well-nigh fucked.
Tamara Chang had caught a stray bullet in the head early in the fight. Rafe had told him the story, before heading over to the sick house to see where he could be of most use, tending the sick or on the wall, helping thin out the walkers at their door.
The attic was depressingly quiet. The guy was probably already dead. But Blaine owed it to Kurt, who had a bigger heart than him today. That wasn’t always true. Sometimes he knew Kurt thought himself to be the less connected to humanity of the two, most of the time. He thought of Blaine as the more gentle, human one, even if their history traversing the ravaged Midwest indicated that at times, Blaine could be as wild and heartless as any of the men who had attacked them today. Case in point: He couldn’t work up a scrap of sympathy for the man who had put two bullets in his husband and could have left Pippa missing a father.
The man was in the middle of the floor, red soaking through Kurt’s sweater tied around him and the handle of Kurt’s knife jutting up proudly from the man’s belly. A dusty pillow rested under his head. Blaine stopped to scan the room before moving closer. The man lay perfectly still. It didn’t look much like he was breathing.
Blaine knelt beside him, then jumped back as the man suddenly lifted his head and coughed.
Blaine blinked. It felt like his stomach had dropped out onto the floor, and now he was empty and utterly speechless. He continued to stare at the man laying there in utter disbelief, without moving himself. But he was wasting precious seconds, and he knew he wasn’t hallucinating, or just being hopeful, because this was not a situation he would have ever, ever hoped for.
“Cooper, you idiot,” Blaine choked out. He leaned over the man, his brother, and grabbed the side of his face. “Wake up! Wake up you goddamn stupid son of a bitch!”
His eyes opened, slowly at first, but then he leaned up a little. A smile touched his lips, and he shook his head and closed his eyes again.
“No, no! You wake up! Fuck you! Wake up, Cooper!” Blaine shook his shoulders. “Wake the fuck up!”
Cooper’s eyes opened again, and he raised a brow, looking up at Blaine like he was confused.
“You shot. My. Husband. You. Jackass,” Blaine growled through clenched teeth. “You don’t get to die yet!”
He moved his fingers over Cooper’s stomach, judging where the knife had gone. Below the lungs, for sure. It wasn’t in too deep; it looked like he’d been wearing a bulletproof vest, which was obviously not knife proof, but prevented the knife from cutting deadly deep. If it had hit an artery, he would have bled out by now. If his intestine had been punctured, he’d be septic. They could still save him.
If he got some blood.
“Asshole.”
“How...? How... how...? You look like...”
“You need to stay awake. I have to get someone to help me, and we’ll get this cleaned up, and give you a fighting chance, okay?” Blaine pointed at his chest and growled, “Stay. Awake.”
“You aren’t my brother. Are you?” Cooper reached up with one hand to touch his face. “No, you’re not... not really...”
Blaine felt that black angry spot that had been growing inside him since seeing Kurt wounded start to grow soft, bleed a little. He leaned down and let Cooper touch him.
“Your baby brother is alive. Your sister is alive. And you need to keep your ass alive. So I can properly scream at you for being such a fucking deadhead.”
“Deadhead,” Cooper chuckled weakly. His eyes drifted off to the side. “Since when does my baby brother swear...”
“I’m a little on edge today,” Blaine said gravely. “And I haven’t forgiven you. But you are going to live, got that? I just need some supplies. And... maybe Andre.”
Cooper caught his hand as he rose. “You don’t have to forgive me. I’m just... I’m just so happy you’re alive. You can... can do so much more for her than I could...”
“You got her this far.” Blaine licked his lips, and then lied, lied, lied: “She’s fine, Coop. She’s perfectly fine. Waiting on you, y’dumbass.”
Cooper stared up at the ceiling. “Good.”
“I’ll be back.” He pointed at him. “Don’t die.”
“Workin’... workin’ on that.”
Blaine hurried back down the stairs.
***
Santana’s body shuddered out of her control. If was official. The world was over.
Brittany’s body rested in her arms. Her chest was blown open, three entry-wounds, that Santana could see. Blood drenched the side of her cropped blond hair. There was a lot of blood everywhere. At some point a walker, or walkers, had come to eat the flesh off her bones. Not all of it. There had been living men around her to attract their attention.
But there were significant chunks of her missing.
Santana stroked her fingers over Brittany’s cheeks, her lips, her forehead, anywhere that wasn’t gnawed on, or damaged. Blaine hadn’t said, but... she’d been shot, first. Santana decided that. She had to have been, from how awkwardly she’d been positioned on the ground, like she’d been dead before even hitting it.
Not like the sad fuck nearby, with his face half-blown off, but his mouth open in a grimace of agony. Probably the result of the gaping cavity where his organs had once been.
It wasn’t a comfort. Except the bitter, chilly kind that made Santana glad that these men had suffered. These men, who scared Saff, made little Pip go hungry, and hurt both of their fathers. These men who threatened their homes and families, and barged inside after making that gross pretentious as fuck speech about all the things they would do to their loved ones.
Her fingers brushed over Brittany’s lips, and she smiled ever so slightly as she thought of Brittany bringing home that stupid cat that snuck up on everybody. They’d named him Butter Noodles. And how happy she’d been to make the flowers, and plan the wedding, and how she giggled over the thought of Kurt and Blaine having more babies.
When she’d held Santana and told her that it was safe to sleep.
She bowed over Brittany’s body and kissed her cold lips. Then she held her, stubbornly, for a long time.
Brittany dropped a kiss on Santana’s lips. “Believe, Santana. Believe in happy things, and that we’re all gonna be alright. No more crying.”
“No more crying,” Santana told Brittany. “And no more hurting, and no more running, and hiding, and being afraid. Not anymore.”
She nuzzled her face against Brittany’s, grateful that at least, everyone else was too busy to try to pull her away.
***
Blaine felt woozy when he stumbled back into the sick house. He crossed his arms and pulled his sleeve over the gauze. He hadn’t thought much of Andre when he’d first met the man. He’d seemed like your average rough and tumble asshole. But he’d been in the army, and he knew a thing or two about having to work with what you had. Despite arguing that they should leave, he’d still offered useful ideas as Kurt was trying to come up with a strategy to stay and fight. When asked, the man went without question to get the materials for what was basically a field surgery, and then came up to the attic with surgical materials and David to help.
It wasn’t elegant, but Andre knew how to remove a weapon. And Cooper shared Blaine’s blood type. Even better, from a family member. He was still alive, and David had said he would get the guys a little later to move him to the sick house, when Cooper was more stable.
Blaine slumped against the wall. His eyes closed, then opened again on the scene of their community, battered but mostly intact, tending their wounds. He rose again, cast a glance to the staircase, then padded over to the area where Kurt and the others had been.
“He’s over on the sofa,” Tina said softly.
Blaine turned to look at her.
“Some of our less injured folks have started to move around, and give those with more serious injuries a place to lay.”
“Is he one of the more serious ones?” Blaine’s voice was a low rasp.
Tina seemed to notice, but didn’t say anything. “He lost a lot of blood, but he’s hanging in there. I think he’ll be okay, but we’re going to run out of antibiotics in a week.”
Blaine nodded and moved into the other room. There Kurt was, his leg propped up and a blanket draped over him. Van was sitting up in a chair nearby, rocking Pippa in one arm as she slept.
“I shooed Finn to the wall,” she murmured. “And Burt off with Carol to figure out what they can do with him... but I’ve been keeping an eye on Kurt. He’s wiped out.”
“Did he get some painkillers?”
Van shook her head. “He told David not to waste them.”
Blaine rolled his eyes and sat on the floor next to Kurt. He was sleeping, but not easily. He had to be in too much pain. But of course, Kurt would bear that. He would bear whatever he had to.
He touched Kurt’s face gently, then rose to brush his lips against Kurt’s pale forehead. His heart was pounding, fiercely. It told him to go back and throttle his brother for doing this to Kurt. But all that would really get him was a dead brother and more grief, not less anger.
“I’ll be back,” Blaine muttered. He didn’t look at Van before leaving. He focused on making it to the stairway.
Soon he was ascending steps again, this time with more dread than anger. He needed it to really be Tianna. To really be her, and not just a woman Cooper had been traveling with, and not a transformed undead mockery of who she had been.
As he came down the hallway, he heard moaning. Chills went through him, and he forced his feet forward, to the bedroom. When he reached the door, his hand paused on the knob. Voices murmured inside. Forest... Saffire... Another moan.
The sound of breaking glass.
Blaine turned the handle and thrust himself inside. Both Jacksons turned to look at him. His eyes were on the bed.
It was her. Tears down her cheeks, lips cracked and bruised on one side, hair butchered short and even worse matted around her head. But her eyes weren’t lifeless. They were lit up with delirium and terror. Blaine rushed to her side.
She didn’t seem to recognize him, but he didn’t care. He took another glass, since she’d apparently smashed the last one on the floor, poured some water in it, and touched her head.
“Hey, Ti. How about you drink something for me?”
She writhed, averting her gaze, and panted. Tentatively, she took some water. Blaine’s eyes moved up to her hands. They were tied to the bedposts, and one was bandaged and bleeding. Gauze wrapped tightly around the wrist an thumb, and then more loosely around her forearm. The other had a pair of handcuffs dangling from it.
“The hallucinations got her,” Forest said.
“What the fuck happened to her hands? Did she do that while on the serum?” Blaine set the glass down and reached over to her undamaged hand.
“No, she came in like that,” Forest said. He watched Blaine closely. “She’s helped us a lot.”
“She always does.” Blaine leaned forward and felt tears come to his eyes suddenly. “And she still thinks she’s the family screw up.”
He touched her hand, causing a whine to come up from her throat, but he squeezed, and petted her hair with his other hand.
“It’s okay. I’m here, Ti. I’m here now. You found me.”
Her eyes were unfocused as she stared up at him, but slowly, slowly they started to widen.
“Blaine?” she whispered.
He kissed her cheek and crawled into the bed with her. “Hey, princess.”
She jerked against her bonds, trying to move closer to him.
“Be still,” he encouraged. “This part won’t last forever. I’ve done it. We’ve all done it. You just need to stay with me, so you can tell Cooper what an ass he is, later?”
“Cooper?” She blinked and went quiet. Then, “He’s... He’s...”
“He’s alive.” At least it was true. For now.
She went quiet again, then startled as she seemed to see something. Blaine wrapped his arms around her until she went still again. He pulled her head to his shoulder, and let her sob.
“Saff, can you tell Van to send someone, if Kurt needs me?” he asked. “I can’t leave her like this.”
Forest stepped back, then nodded. “I’ll go. I need t’get orders for what’s goin’ on with the walker situation.”
Saffire touched Blaine’s back, but then followed her father out of the room.
In the quiet of the room, Blaine rocked his sister, like a child. He’d given up. He’d stopped thinking about his family entirely. He avoided the pain of losing his family and just plunged into loving the one right in front of him and the scraps of Kurt’s family that he could attach himself to, until they’d become his family as well.
If he’d pushed Kurt to try to find them, instead of gone barreling towards Columbus...? But there had been no sign that he’d seen that Cooper and Tianna had been alive. No note at the house. Had there been a sign that he’d missed? Something swept under a piece of furniture? How crazy was it that Cooper had actually been in town when the outbreak had hit? Or had he come when he’d heard the news to take care of Mama and Tianna? Had Dad sent out a message? How much of Blaine’s life would have changed if he’d just charged his damn phone?
Burt had said while they were still in the hospital that his friend at the refugee center hadn’t been able to find Cooper and Tianna’s names... but then again... They hadn’t been able to find Blaine, either, even when he’d come in at the same time as the others. And no one looking after he’d been sent to the hospital would either, since everyone there thought his name was Blaine Jansen.
Blaine’s fingers carded through Tianna’s hair. She let out a wail, startling him. It wasn’t so much that she was crying, but that she was so... not herself. Tianna was stronger than this. She was quirky, and funny, and very, very smart. Smart enough to cause trouble. And she’d always tried to defend Blaine in their family. She was the first person he’d come out to (Cooper had psychically known, somehow), and she was the first person in his family that he’d introduced to the love of his life. Even if he hadn’t known, way back then, how in love he was.
“I’m here now, Ti. I’m here now.”
Next Part: Open Wounds
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth.
comments posted there. Please comment there using OpenID or your DW account.
Title: Wrecked
Pair: Klaine
Word Count: 6815
Includes: zombies, mpreg, BIG FEELS, character deaths
Summary: Though most of the Wastelanders are dead, by bullet, arrow, or walker, the survivors continue the fight against the walkers and take care of their injured.
AN: This part and upcoming ones are likely to be emotionally taxing... though maybe that's a given for this fic.
“I wish your friends were smarter,” Kurt said sharply. “All that automatic fire... It’s like they wanted to attract every freakin’ walker in Ontario.”
His arrow sunk into the skull of a walker that had lost most of its skin. Kurt’s eyes flickered back and forth as he selected his next target. There was no one left that he could see of their living attackers... aside from the man bleeding to death on the floor behind him. The walkers had done humankind a favor for once.
“They’re...” The man took a labored breath. “They’re not my friends.”
“You said you were working with them? And then they took your sister. Why would you work with cannibal rapists to begin with? What’s that thought process like?”
He knew he was unnecessarily antagonizing the man, but Kurt hoped it would keep him awake.
“I was... I was leading our group. We ran out of supplies. Couldn’t find more in our area-- not enough, anyway... I lost control. I too was scared what would happen to her if we went our own way.” He let out a bitter laugh. “You’re lucky... An organized, armed group like this? You don’t know what it’s like out there... trying to survive, just the two of you against... fucking everything.”
“I do, actually. For about seven months, until we made it to Buffalo.”
“You’re a tough little guy,” the man murmured. “How old are you again?”
“Seventeen.”
“You don’t sound seventeen.”
“I sound like a Muppet Baby.”
The man laughed and covered his eyes. Kurt narrowed his eyes and focused on the walkers drifting too close to the houses. A lot of them were still distracted, stripping the flesh from those who had died during the shootout .
Santana was going to absolutely lose it, if she hadn’t already.
“Not enough people still at their posts. We need a new plan...” Kurt murmured. “How are you feeling back there?”
“Can’t really feel it anymore,” the man murmured.
“You’re in shock,” Kurt said, more to himself than to his company. He took out another walker and rubbed his forehead. He was getting a little dizzy now himself. Maybe he should’ve taken more time binding his wounds.
More shots fired, and Kurt spotted Blaine on the ground, taking down walkers one by one. Reloading, then taking out more. It was attracting their attention, and the walkers, mouths full of dripping entrails, were starting to look up at him as the more attractive meal.
They always did like the freshest ones the best. Wriggling around, if possible.
“What are you doing?! Don’t...!” Kurt reloaded his crossbow and started aiming for the walkers heading towards Blaine. More and more lifted their heads from their feasting and shuffled towards him.
“Don’t you dare, don’t you dare...” Kurt chanted to himself, then he pushed himself out of the window and yelled, “Stop making a spectacle of yourself!”
Blaine looked up, as did the walkers, attracted to the noise. Out of nowhere, Nick and Mike were at Blaine’s side, firing away. Kurt sat back as he saw some arrows taking out the ones on the other side of the courtyard. He reached for another arrow, but it fell out of his shaking hand.
“You need a doctor, kid,” the man murmured.
“Ditto.” Kurt knocked his head back against the wall. “I need to get someone up here. You can’t be moved... The knife is probably holding your wounds together.”
“I know that. I studied things like... It’s helpful to know what’s going on when you’re auditioning for a redshirt. Helps you die more effectively.”
“An actor, huh?” Kurt tried to push himself up, but swayed and fell to the floor again.
“Stop trying to save the asshole who did this to you. Save yourself.”
“I intend to, but I’m a stubborn bitch. I’ll save you too, if I can.” Kurt pushed himself up again, secured his weapons, and went to make his way down the stairs. He couldn’t afford to wait for the walkers to be cleared out. He didn’t have the strength to spare.
He had to sit on the steps a few times on the way down, but as he went, he felt more capable. His body had gone through worse than this, he reasoned, and by the time he reached the final steps, he was sure he’d make it to the house they’d designated for their wounded.
But the door was open. He spotted the walker just as it looked up at him, hissing and speeding up its jerky movements. A sheet of flesh hung from its working jaws and its belly bulged lopsidedly with the remains of the men who had attacked the town.
Behind Kurt, on the other side of the railing, another walker appeared, grabbing his ankle, and Kurt stumbled back onto the stairs. He fired on the one by the door since it was in his direct line of fire. Then he turned to the walker that had crept up through the railing and was now eagerly drooling over his bloody shoulder.
Kurt looked into the sockets where its eyes had been and shoved his knife right through. It jerked and squalled, and Kurt pushed the knife in deeper. When it fell away, Kurt tried to catch his breath. It had been a while since the walkers had gotten this close while he’d been this weak.
He pushed himself up, stumbled, clung to the banister, and fought to breathe.
***
Until Andre had joined them, Blaine had been a little worried about Mike’s plan to draw the walkers away from the houses. But Andre didn’t seem afraid at all. He pounded out a few, grabbed two of the invaders’ guns, and opened fire on the walkers, sending the bulk of them back a few steps.
He ran backwards until he joined Blaine, then yelled, “Some are gettin’ into the houses. We need to clear these fuckers out so people can get the wounded some help, yeah?”
“Careful with those bullets!” Nick said. “We don’t want anyone getting taken down by friendly fire.”
“Hope everyone’s found a safe spot to hide, by now.” Andre said looked around. “Somethin’s goin’ down in the house over there.”
He nodded toward the house where Kurt had stationed himself. It was the tallest house in town, where he could see, and shoot, the most enemies without them getting a clear shot at him in return. Blaine fell back and looked through the windows. It was hard to hear individual shots with the guys pounding away at the walkers, but Blaine was almost sure that one had gone off in the house. All he could see were some figures moving...
But there should be only the one.
He broke away from the other guys and bolted for the house. The door had been busted open, and a walker lay nearby, its brains splattered over the wall. Then he spotted Kurt, covered in blood and slumping to the ground.
“No!” Blaine moved to his side and lifted him up.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kurt demanded. “Don’t you think we have enough walkers on our asses without making enough noise to announce this little town as an all-you-can-eat buffet?”
Blaine kissed his forehead as he lifted him up. He didn’t care if Kurt was angry. As long as he was still breathing. “Cover us. I’m gonna take you over to the sick house.”
“There’s...” Kurt propped his glasses up on his hair and rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “Look, if I pass out, there’s a guy upstairs...”
Blaine looked behind him warily. “I’ll send in one of the guys to take him out.”
“No, the man who attacked me... Blaine, we have to try to save him. If he’s still alive when we send someone up there, anyway.” Kurt pressed his face into Blaine’s shoulder. His breaths came short and shallow. “I stabbed him. God, I’ve murdered him.”
Blaine pulled Kurt closer to his chest. “Looks like he tried pretty hard to murder you!”
“I know... Please...”
Blaine stared down at him. He was utterly confused, but it was hard to deny Kurt anything. Not when he was upset. Not when Kurt had trusted him so completely. “We’ll get him some help, babe. Okay? Just, you first. We need you.”
Kurt nodded and looked up, aiming with one arm as they left the house. The men’s eyes were on them as they entered the courtyard, and Andre ran up to them, moving in between them and the walkers as they hurried across.
“Get ‘im inside, kid.”
“Thanks.” Blaine said.
“Could you send someone around to the other houses to make sure the are no surviving invaders?” Kurt asked.
“You got it, boss.” Andre saluted. “And could’ja tell all the arrowheads to cut it out? I don’t want anyone getting an arrow in the eye from a well-meanin’ sharp shooter. We can get the rest of ‘em. Promise. This is way easier than Iraq, now that those living shitheads are done with.”
Blaine got them up on the porch, and Kurt set his gun in his lap and lifted the whistle one more time. Three blasts: Knock it off. The men on the ground are moving in.
Blaine knocked on the door once, waited just a moment, then yelled at the top of his lungs, “Open the fucking door guys!”
Kurt’s eyes rounded with astonishment.
When the door opened, David looked at him strangely, then swept a glance over the courtyard. “Um, Blaine-”
“I need a bed. Or something,” Blaine barked as he stormed inside.
“It’s okay. I’m just a little shot,” Kurt told David. “Lookin’ for some OJ. And some blood maybe?”
“Tina’s a little overwhelmed right now,” David said. “But I can pull the bullets and do the stitches. I’m pretty sure.”
“When we’re on the road again...” Kurt muttered. “We gotta pass Tina and Mama Chang around between cars. Have them teaching more people basic medical stuff.”
“There’ll be plenty of wounds to practice on...” Blaine said dryly. He lead the way into the house. The wounded were scattered over the floor and the house smelled like... Well, like blood and death. “God...”
“Yeah.” David shook his head. “It’s um, a little crazy right now.”
A scream came from upstairs. Kurt lifted his head, then looked at Blaine and moved as though he wanted to get down. Blaine held him fast.
“She’s okay. We found a girl-- I think the guys who attacked us kidnapped her, or... Forest knows her? Anyway, she shut the gate on the walkers for us, but she got bit, so we’re treating her,” David explained.
Kurt clutched his chest. “Oh, thank God.”
He sort of wilted into Blaine, who held him tighter and looked around. “Where can I put Kurt?”
David rubbed a hand over his head. “Over here.”
Blaine carried Kurt a few more feet and let him down on a nest of blankets. Kurt winced as his leg hit the floor, and David came over with some supplies.
“We’re running really low on painkillers, and I don’t know if there are more in Mama Chang’s house or not. Kurt, I’m really, really sorry, but-”
“I went through labor without them. I got this.” Kurt took Blaine’s hand and squeezed hard.
Blaine squeezed back and kissed his temple firmly. Kurt’s hair was drenched in sweat. He was in pain, even if he’d learned how to bear it, and Blaine didn’t like that. They should have protected him better. He sort of hoped the man who did this to Kurt had done them all a favor and just died already.
Another rap on the door caught their attention, but David was in the middle of extracting a bullet from Kurt’s leg and didn’t move his hands an inch. “Can somebody get up and get that?”
Myra rose from the floor, touching her bandaged head once, and made her way towards the door. It opened and Finn rushed in.
“Please help, somebody? We need some help!” His words came all in a jumble.
Blaine’s eyes bulged as he saw Van engulfed in Finn’s big arms and a big smear of red over her arm.
“Damn.” David shook his head. “Bring her over here.”
“David, take care of her,” Kurt urged.
Blaine glared at him. “What is wrong with you!? Why do you insist on saving everyone else before yourself?”
Kurt wrinkled his nose at Blaine, but then eyed David seriously. “You need to take care of her first. Trust me.”
Finn rushed over and laid her down by Kurt’s feet. Her eyes were closed, and her skin pale, but not ashy. Blaine scowled at David, daring him to stop working on Kurt.
“It’ll only be a few more minutes,” she said very quietly. “It’s okay, Finn-”
“No, it’s not okay!” Finn yelled. “David, she’s pregnant!”
Van swatted his arm.
“He has to know that if he’s going to help!” Finn argued. He touched her face and bowed over her, shaking.
Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand again.
“She needs to go first,” Kurt repeated.
“Yeah, okay,” David said, not looking up from this work, “but I can’t leave a gaping bullet hole in your leg, Kurt. You’ve already lost a lot of blood. Give me a minute to sew it up, and then I’ll do her.”
There were quite a few eyes on them now. Blaine said nothing, not about the wounds, or the revelation. He just kissed Kurt again, held onto him, and then touched Van’s hand. She must be terrified right now, but she seemed resigned. Like she couldn’t let herself think what would happen if she had lost too much blood already. There was so little control for the two of them now.
Blaine sat back as David turned to Van, and there was another scream from upstairs.
“No, God, no! No! No!” the girl cried wildly. “Please, no, no, NO!”
Kurt rubbed his mouth and looked at Blaine. “Her brother.”
“What?”
“The man who shot me. That’s her brother. I need you to... find Tamara? And let him know we have his sister. Maybe there’s still time for him. He’ll need a transfusion-”
“No one is going to want to give their blood to some psycho who threw his chips in with these people!” Blaine argued. He rose anyway. “We need to start finding everyone else, though. Get a head count of who’s been lost or hurt. And we need your dad down here, because you need some blood...”
He shook his head. “I’ll look for Tamara, too.”
Kurt rested his head back against the wall, pleading up at him with those bright blue eyes of his. Blaine hung his head, took a breath, and then checked his bullets before heading out again.
***
Everything had gotten quiet. That could have been very good, or very bad. Burt had no friggin’ idea, but he couldn’t stand to go check either way. He sat by the stairs, gun in hand, while Saffire rocked Pippa and looked at the door anxiously.
“Do you feel okay?” she whispered. She had her finger in Pippa’s mouth, letting her suckle on it. The baby was getting fussy now, and needed to be fed, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. They had to wait.
“Don’t worry about me,” Burt said.
He’d scared the piss out of her by dropping to the ground a little while ago, but luckily his heart hadn’t decided to go stop on him just yet. He’d just gotten real dizzy, and he was glad that Carol had convinced him to stay behind the scenes with the girls.
The door cracked open, and Saffire shrank back into the shadows. Pippa let out a wail.
“It’s just me, bitches,” Santana announced before heading down the stairs. “This baby always cries when I’m around... Anyway, we had a bit of an invasion during our invasion.”
“What now?” Burt started to rise, slowly.
“Walkers came...” She looked up at him. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I don’t know. He won’t tell me,” Saffire said irritably.
“C’mon.” Santana waved them forward. Then she stopped and grabbed Burt’s arm.
“I can do it,” he argued.
“I really don’t care what you think you can do. We need to get everyone together and see what we’ve got to work with. And I need to get up on the wall and help the guys with the walkers out there tryin’ to creep all up on our stuff, okay?” She heaved a sigh. “And I haven’t seen Brittany in hours. I’m sure Kurt’s going likewise crazy about you and Pip and Blainers.”
Burt leaned on her as they left the basement. It took a while, because despite his protests, he wasn’t up to a lot of movement today. Saffire came out in front of them, but waited, bouncing Pippa and trying to keep her calm.
By the time he’d made it to the top, Blaine was in the main room, a little blood splattered, but not looking too worse for wear. He took one look at Burt and swore with a ferocity Burt had never heard. There was something... off in his eyes. Burt had seen him doped up, and lost, and he’d even seen him fighting walkers, but this was just... off was the only word he had to describe it. It was worrying.
“Calm down, Blaine,” Burt said. “I’m fine.”
“Did he get shot?” Blaine asked a little aggressively.
“I don’t know. I think he’s just old,” Santana said.
“Oh, can it, you snit.” Burt rolled his eyes. “I’m a man with heart problems. You’re surprised I struggle sometimes?”
“Fuck.” Blaine crossed his arms and swept his eyes over Burt. “Well. Okay.” He nodded, his eyes getting a little shiny. “Okay. Who has A positive blood in this camp?”
Burt frowned. “What?”
“Because I can’t get it from you,” Blaine snapped. He ran a hand through his hair. “Santana, can you get him over to the sick house? Tina has her hands full, but they’ll want him where everyone can see him. I need to look for Mrs. Chang, and blood donors. We’ve got a lot of injured, and, and we need to figure out how we’re going to deal with these walkers...”
“Is Kurt hurt?” Burt pressed.
“He’s been shot.” Blaine shook his head, trying to gather himself. “I know it isn’t your fault. He’s just... He’s stubborn. And Van’s hurt too... There are a lot of people hurt. Not so many dead, though. Maybe two or... We got lucky, as far as I know. Maybe one in the sick house that didn’t make it from his wounds... um, Joseph. But we’ll have to bring everyone else out to see, and hope our medicine supply holds up.”
“Where’s Brittany?” Santana demanded. “I want to see her, as soon as I get this lug over there.”
Blaine froze and stared at her for a moment as his eyes widened slowly. He pressed his lips together. Santana’s grip on Burt’s arm grew painful, but he didn’t say anything to the girl.
“Where is she,” Santana said, her voice hollow.
Blaine reached for her, and she smacked his hand, hard.
“Where the fuck is she, Blaine? Where is Brittany? Where is she?”
“Santana, please, just-”
“Shut the fuck up and tell me where she is, you nappy-haired Backstreet Boy!”
Blaine grabbed her shoulders, but she struggled away from him, shoved him hard, and ran out of the house.
Burt rubbed his mouth, then breathed out slowly. “We can make it over there. If you want to go after her...?”
“Let ‘er go.” Blaine looked out after Santana. “The guys are out there. She’ll be as safe there as anywhere.”
“I’m not fooling with you. I do feel better now. I know it’s not the time for it, but I just-” “Can’t be helped.” Blaine put his hands on his hips, moving around restlessly. “Isn’t there some medicine that could...?”
“Yeah. There is. If we could find some.”
Saffire hugged Burt with one arm.
“C’mon. Let’s go find your pappa, huh?” Burt walked slowly out of the house.
Blaine gave Burt a nod, and hurried on his way.
Once Burt had reached the sick house, he was a little overwhelmed with the smell of blood. There were about a dozen or so injured. Maybe more in the other rooms.
“Is my dad in here?” Saffire asked, looking around.
“Dunno...” Burt spotted Tina and went in that direction. “Hey, have you seen-”
“Oh, God!” Tina gasped. “Burt, are you okay? Did you get shot?”
She took his hand and tried to lead him to a chair. Okay, he probably did look pale as death, but this was getting aggravating.
“No, I’m not shot. Look, Tina. I had some palpitations earlier, and I know I look like a walker right now, but I’m fine. You don’t have to spend time you don’t got on me.”
Tina frowned and put her hand on his chest. “Okay. Alright. Um... Saff, your dad is upstairs.”
“Lemme have Pippa, okay?” Burt held out his arms. Saffire looked doubtful, but she clearly wanted to be with her father, so she shifted the baby into his arms and hurried up the stairs, startling only a moment as screams came down.
“The serum,” Tina muttered. “We picked up someone new.”
“Where’s Kurt?” Burt pressed.
Tina pointed over to one of the rooms. Burt rose and touched Pippa’s little hand as he went to see his son. She suckle on her fist, and then let out a little cry of complaint.
“Pippa?” Kurt’s voice rang clearly from the other room.
Burt smiled and went to join them. To his surprise, Finn was there as well, with a tube coming out of his arm into Van’s. Van was just sacked out, her arm freshly bandaged and Finn tucking her into his body with his free arm. Next to her was Kurt, who had one shoulder and one leg bandaged, and his feet propped up. He was pale as milk, but he was reaching for Pippa already with his good arm.
“Dad?” Kurt looked up at him with a frown.
Burt handed Pippa to him and helped her settle in, though by now she was quite fussy. “We’re a pair, huh?
Kurt eyed him fiercely. “You have been keeping something from me.”
Burt shrugged.
“Jerk.” Kurt petted Pippa’s back and lifted his shirt.
“Do you want a blanket?” Finn asked lifting his head. Apparently he was awake after all.
“These people have seen the walking dead and cannibal terrorists. They’ll deal with me feeding my baby,” Kurt said irritably.
“I kinda thought you might be cold,” Finn said. “You’re shaking.”
Burt got up and fetched some more pillows and a blanket, and when he returned, positioned them around Kurt to help him get comfortable.
“Take a nap,” Burt urged. “I’ll keep an eye on you two.”
Kurt nodded wearily. He moved his left arm, very slightly, to cover Pippa as she fed. She continued while he dozed, and Burt touched his head and pulled the blanket up over him as he looked at Finn.
“You could still use my blood. I won’t die if I lose a little, and he could probably use whatever he can get.”
Finn raked his eyes over Burt dubiously and cradled Van next to him. “Do you know how pissed he’d be? Kurt’s tough.”
“Tough is one thing. Massive blood loss is another. Fill me in on what’s been going on?” Burt shook his head and petted Kurt’s hair. He felt inadequate to protect or even support his sons.
***
The courtyard was a macabre jumble of remains. Bodies torn open and blown apart, arrows here and there, rotting walkers busted down and splattered about. And in the middle, sifting through limbs and choking out breath after breath through her tears, Santana. Trying to identify which body had been Brittany’s.
Blaine would have stopped to help her, but he guessed she wasn’t in a mood for the comfort he was able to give at the moment, and he still had pressing, if less appealing business.
He made his way up the stairs of the house where he’d fetched Kurt less than thirty minutes ago. As far as he was concerned, this man deserved to die alone, but the least he could do was tell the guy that his sister was infected and he was well-nigh fucked.
Tamara Chang had caught a stray bullet in the head early in the fight. Rafe had told him the story, before heading over to the sick house to see where he could be of most use, tending the sick or on the wall, helping thin out the walkers at their door.
The attic was depressingly quiet. The guy was probably already dead. But Blaine owed it to Kurt, who had a bigger heart than him today. That wasn’t always true. Sometimes he knew Kurt thought himself to be the less connected to humanity of the two, most of the time. He thought of Blaine as the more gentle, human one, even if their history traversing the ravaged Midwest indicated that at times, Blaine could be as wild and heartless as any of the men who had attacked them today. Case in point: He couldn’t work up a scrap of sympathy for the man who had put two bullets in his husband and could have left Pippa missing a father.
The man was in the middle of the floor, red soaking through Kurt’s sweater tied around him and the handle of Kurt’s knife jutting up proudly from the man’s belly. A dusty pillow rested under his head. Blaine stopped to scan the room before moving closer. The man lay perfectly still. It didn’t look much like he was breathing.
Blaine knelt beside him, then jumped back as the man suddenly lifted his head and coughed.
Blaine blinked. It felt like his stomach had dropped out onto the floor, and now he was empty and utterly speechless. He continued to stare at the man laying there in utter disbelief, without moving himself. But he was wasting precious seconds, and he knew he wasn’t hallucinating, or just being hopeful, because this was not a situation he would have ever, ever hoped for.
“Cooper, you idiot,” Blaine choked out. He leaned over the man, his brother, and grabbed the side of his face. “Wake up! Wake up you goddamn stupid son of a bitch!”
His eyes opened, slowly at first, but then he leaned up a little. A smile touched his lips, and he shook his head and closed his eyes again.
“No, no! You wake up! Fuck you! Wake up, Cooper!” Blaine shook his shoulders. “Wake the fuck up!”
Cooper’s eyes opened again, and he raised a brow, looking up at Blaine like he was confused.
“You shot. My. Husband. You. Jackass,” Blaine growled through clenched teeth. “You don’t get to die yet!”
He moved his fingers over Cooper’s stomach, judging where the knife had gone. Below the lungs, for sure. It wasn’t in too deep; it looked like he’d been wearing a bulletproof vest, which was obviously not knife proof, but prevented the knife from cutting deadly deep. If it had hit an artery, he would have bled out by now. If his intestine had been punctured, he’d be septic. They could still save him.
If he got some blood.
“Asshole.”
“How...? How... how...? You look like...”
“You need to stay awake. I have to get someone to help me, and we’ll get this cleaned up, and give you a fighting chance, okay?” Blaine pointed at his chest and growled, “Stay. Awake.”
“You aren’t my brother. Are you?” Cooper reached up with one hand to touch his face. “No, you’re not... not really...”
Blaine felt that black angry spot that had been growing inside him since seeing Kurt wounded start to grow soft, bleed a little. He leaned down and let Cooper touch him.
“Your baby brother is alive. Your sister is alive. And you need to keep your ass alive. So I can properly scream at you for being such a fucking deadhead.”
“Deadhead,” Cooper chuckled weakly. His eyes drifted off to the side. “Since when does my baby brother swear...”
“I’m a little on edge today,” Blaine said gravely. “And I haven’t forgiven you. But you are going to live, got that? I just need some supplies. And... maybe Andre.”
Cooper caught his hand as he rose. “You don’t have to forgive me. I’m just... I’m just so happy you’re alive. You can... can do so much more for her than I could...”
“You got her this far.” Blaine licked his lips, and then lied, lied, lied: “She’s fine, Coop. She’s perfectly fine. Waiting on you, y’dumbass.”
Cooper stared up at the ceiling. “Good.”
“I’ll be back.” He pointed at him. “Don’t die.”
“Workin’... workin’ on that.”
Blaine hurried back down the stairs.
***
Santana’s body shuddered out of her control. If was official. The world was over.
Brittany’s body rested in her arms. Her chest was blown open, three entry-wounds, that Santana could see. Blood drenched the side of her cropped blond hair. There was a lot of blood everywhere. At some point a walker, or walkers, had come to eat the flesh off her bones. Not all of it. There had been living men around her to attract their attention.
But there were significant chunks of her missing.
Santana stroked her fingers over Brittany’s cheeks, her lips, her forehead, anywhere that wasn’t gnawed on, or damaged. Blaine hadn’t said, but... she’d been shot, first. Santana decided that. She had to have been, from how awkwardly she’d been positioned on the ground, like she’d been dead before even hitting it.
Not like the sad fuck nearby, with his face half-blown off, but his mouth open in a grimace of agony. Probably the result of the gaping cavity where his organs had once been.
It wasn’t a comfort. Except the bitter, chilly kind that made Santana glad that these men had suffered. These men, who scared Saff, made little Pip go hungry, and hurt both of their fathers. These men who threatened their homes and families, and barged inside after making that gross pretentious as fuck speech about all the things they would do to their loved ones.
Her fingers brushed over Brittany’s lips, and she smiled ever so slightly as she thought of Brittany bringing home that stupid cat that snuck up on everybody. They’d named him Butter Noodles. And how happy she’d been to make the flowers, and plan the wedding, and how she giggled over the thought of Kurt and Blaine having more babies.
When she’d held Santana and told her that it was safe to sleep.
She bowed over Brittany’s body and kissed her cold lips. Then she held her, stubbornly, for a long time.
Brittany dropped a kiss on Santana’s lips. “Believe, Santana. Believe in happy things, and that we’re all gonna be alright. No more crying.”
“No more crying,” Santana told Brittany. “And no more hurting, and no more running, and hiding, and being afraid. Not anymore.”
She nuzzled her face against Brittany’s, grateful that at least, everyone else was too busy to try to pull her away.
***
Blaine felt woozy when he stumbled back into the sick house. He crossed his arms and pulled his sleeve over the gauze. He hadn’t thought much of Andre when he’d first met the man. He’d seemed like your average rough and tumble asshole. But he’d been in the army, and he knew a thing or two about having to work with what you had. Despite arguing that they should leave, he’d still offered useful ideas as Kurt was trying to come up with a strategy to stay and fight. When asked, the man went without question to get the materials for what was basically a field surgery, and then came up to the attic with surgical materials and David to help.
It wasn’t elegant, but Andre knew how to remove a weapon. And Cooper shared Blaine’s blood type. Even better, from a family member. He was still alive, and David had said he would get the guys a little later to move him to the sick house, when Cooper was more stable.
Blaine slumped against the wall. His eyes closed, then opened again on the scene of their community, battered but mostly intact, tending their wounds. He rose again, cast a glance to the staircase, then padded over to the area where Kurt and the others had been.
“He’s over on the sofa,” Tina said softly.
Blaine turned to look at her.
“Some of our less injured folks have started to move around, and give those with more serious injuries a place to lay.”
“Is he one of the more serious ones?” Blaine’s voice was a low rasp.
Tina seemed to notice, but didn’t say anything. “He lost a lot of blood, but he’s hanging in there. I think he’ll be okay, but we’re going to run out of antibiotics in a week.”
Blaine nodded and moved into the other room. There Kurt was, his leg propped up and a blanket draped over him. Van was sitting up in a chair nearby, rocking Pippa in one arm as she slept.
“I shooed Finn to the wall,” she murmured. “And Burt off with Carol to figure out what they can do with him... but I’ve been keeping an eye on Kurt. He’s wiped out.”
“Did he get some painkillers?”
Van shook her head. “He told David not to waste them.”
Blaine rolled his eyes and sat on the floor next to Kurt. He was sleeping, but not easily. He had to be in too much pain. But of course, Kurt would bear that. He would bear whatever he had to.
He touched Kurt’s face gently, then rose to brush his lips against Kurt’s pale forehead. His heart was pounding, fiercely. It told him to go back and throttle his brother for doing this to Kurt. But all that would really get him was a dead brother and more grief, not less anger.
“I’ll be back,” Blaine muttered. He didn’t look at Van before leaving. He focused on making it to the stairway.
Soon he was ascending steps again, this time with more dread than anger. He needed it to really be Tianna. To really be her, and not just a woman Cooper had been traveling with, and not a transformed undead mockery of who she had been.
As he came down the hallway, he heard moaning. Chills went through him, and he forced his feet forward, to the bedroom. When he reached the door, his hand paused on the knob. Voices murmured inside. Forest... Saffire... Another moan.
The sound of breaking glass.
Blaine turned the handle and thrust himself inside. Both Jacksons turned to look at him. His eyes were on the bed.
It was her. Tears down her cheeks, lips cracked and bruised on one side, hair butchered short and even worse matted around her head. But her eyes weren’t lifeless. They were lit up with delirium and terror. Blaine rushed to her side.
She didn’t seem to recognize him, but he didn’t care. He took another glass, since she’d apparently smashed the last one on the floor, poured some water in it, and touched her head.
“Hey, Ti. How about you drink something for me?”
She writhed, averting her gaze, and panted. Tentatively, she took some water. Blaine’s eyes moved up to her hands. They were tied to the bedposts, and one was bandaged and bleeding. Gauze wrapped tightly around the wrist an thumb, and then more loosely around her forearm. The other had a pair of handcuffs dangling from it.
“The hallucinations got her,” Forest said.
“What the fuck happened to her hands? Did she do that while on the serum?” Blaine set the glass down and reached over to her undamaged hand.
“No, she came in like that,” Forest said. He watched Blaine closely. “She’s helped us a lot.”
“She always does.” Blaine leaned forward and felt tears come to his eyes suddenly. “And she still thinks she’s the family screw up.”
He touched her hand, causing a whine to come up from her throat, but he squeezed, and petted her hair with his other hand.
“It’s okay. I’m here, Ti. I’m here now. You found me.”
Her eyes were unfocused as she stared up at him, but slowly, slowly they started to widen.
“Blaine?” she whispered.
He kissed her cheek and crawled into the bed with her. “Hey, princess.”
She jerked against her bonds, trying to move closer to him.
“Be still,” he encouraged. “This part won’t last forever. I’ve done it. We’ve all done it. You just need to stay with me, so you can tell Cooper what an ass he is, later?”
“Cooper?” She blinked and went quiet. Then, “He’s... He’s...”
“He’s alive.” At least it was true. For now.
She went quiet again, then startled as she seemed to see something. Blaine wrapped his arms around her until she went still again. He pulled her head to his shoulder, and let her sob.
“Saff, can you tell Van to send someone, if Kurt needs me?” he asked. “I can’t leave her like this.”
Forest stepped back, then nodded. “I’ll go. I need t’get orders for what’s goin’ on with the walker situation.”
Saffire touched Blaine’s back, but then followed her father out of the room.
In the quiet of the room, Blaine rocked his sister, like a child. He’d given up. He’d stopped thinking about his family entirely. He avoided the pain of losing his family and just plunged into loving the one right in front of him and the scraps of Kurt’s family that he could attach himself to, until they’d become his family as well.
If he’d pushed Kurt to try to find them, instead of gone barreling towards Columbus...? But there had been no sign that he’d seen that Cooper and Tianna had been alive. No note at the house. Had there been a sign that he’d missed? Something swept under a piece of furniture? How crazy was it that Cooper had actually been in town when the outbreak had hit? Or had he come when he’d heard the news to take care of Mama and Tianna? Had Dad sent out a message? How much of Blaine’s life would have changed if he’d just charged his damn phone?
Burt had said while they were still in the hospital that his friend at the refugee center hadn’t been able to find Cooper and Tianna’s names... but then again... They hadn’t been able to find Blaine, either, even when he’d come in at the same time as the others. And no one looking after he’d been sent to the hospital would either, since everyone there thought his name was Blaine Jansen.
Blaine’s fingers carded through Tianna’s hair. She let out a wail, startling him. It wasn’t so much that she was crying, but that she was so... not herself. Tianna was stronger than this. She was quirky, and funny, and very, very smart. Smart enough to cause trouble. And she’d always tried to defend Blaine in their family. She was the first person he’d come out to (Cooper had psychically known, somehow), and she was the first person in his family that he’d introduced to the love of his life. Even if he hadn’t known, way back then, how in love he was.
“I’m here now, Ti. I’m here now.”
Next Part: Open Wounds
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