AN: I had planned for 3 chapters in this story, but this one was getting long and giving me a lot of trouble, so I've gone ahead and split it into two chapters. I did a lot of rewriting before I finally found my rhythm here. Chapters 3 & 4 are almost done, so hopefully they'll flow relatively quickly. Thank you everyone who has reviewed/followed/faved this story! It really is encouraging to see you like what I do. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well.


Guy's daydreams of his first morning in Tomorrow had never included gritty eyes, a sore throat, and skin gone itchy and dry from sand and salt. It'd been a long time since he'd cried like that; now he remembered why he stopped. His mind felt as sluggish as the rest of him, and it was an effort to wake – an effort he was sorely tempted to forgo. But, the Croods were up and, in their attempts to be quiet, they made more than enough noise to make sleep impossible to sleep. He finally dragged himself up, rubbing carefully at his tender eyes. He'd have given just about anything for a dive in a nice clear lake right then, even a cold one.

Everyone was grouped around the fire in the morning chill. Guy rubbed his own arms and went to join them. The conversation stopped as he approached, and the Croods all turned to look at him. He glanced around at them, a little unnerved by the attention, and then it struck him. They were worried about him.

That was new.

A part of him wanted to laugh. This was Tomorrow. This was his dream, the place where things were supposed to be better. After all he'd made it through to get here, to have someone worrying about him now struck him as ridiculous.

"Um...morning," he said, picking his way to an open place.

"You look terrible," Gran commented, and Eep elbowed her.

"Gran!"

"What? He does."

"Mom," Ugga sighed. Gran harumphed. Eep rolled her eyes and moved around the fire to sit beside Guy.

"How do you feel?" she asked, concern and sympathy in her face.

"Probably about as good as I look," he said, his own voice subdued. He really didn't feel like talking to anyone this morning. He needed some time to sort out the jumbled knot of feelings in his chest. It irritated him to feel so disorganized.

Eep put a hand on his arm. He shrugged it off. "It was just a dream, Eep, I'll be fine."

"Maybe you will be," she answered, pulling her hand back. He tried not to see the hurt in her eyes. "But you're not fine yet, are you?"

Guy sighed through his teeth and didn't answer.

"We were just talking about what we should do today," Eep said, sitting back and wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Yeah?" Guy rubbed a hand over his face, trying to care and mostly failing. Maybe a lake was asking too much. A puddle big enough to dunk his face in would do.

"I...thought you would have a plan," Eep said slowly, studying him.

Guy laughed. "A plan? No. No plan. Follow the sun. Make it to Tomorrow. That's as far as my instructions went."

"Instructions?" Eep looked confused.

Guy shook his head. "Never mind. Look, I don't know, okay? I spent all my effort on getting here. I—never really thought about what came next. So no, I'm pretty much all out of plans." He knew he sounded bitter and harsh, and he tried to smile, to soften his words somehow, but he wasn't sure he managed it. "Sorry to disappoint."

Eep looked at him for a long moment, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. "I thought you would be happy, to finally be here."

"I am. I will be. Look, Eep – I just need to work through some things, all right? It's...complicated. Can I just—have a little space, please? For once?"

She stared at him, and he stared at the ground. Finally, she got up and walked away without saying anything else.

"Croods," Grug called. "Breakfast formation. Time to find out what there is to eat in this place." He glanced at Guy. "You coming?"

Guy shook his head. "Go ahead."

Grug jerked a nod and herded the rest of the family away.

Eep paused at the edge of the clearing and looked back at him. He gave her a halfhearted wave and looked away. He didn't see her leave.

Just like that, he was alone. The solitude both helped, and didn't. It was a relief not to be looked at or fussed over, to have the peace he needed to work through whatever it was that was wrong withhim – yet a cold thread of fear trickled down his spine. He tried to ignore it.

Guy looked down at Belt. "Just you and me today. Like old times. Only, y'know, without the constantly running from death part."

Belt chortled, and Guy leaned back on his elbows, staring up through the trees and trying to think. Eep was right. They did need a plan. Trouble was, the only thing Guy knew how to do was run. He didn't have any idea how to stay.

Thinking quickly sank into brooding. Belt reached out and smacked him lightly.

"Ow," Guy muttered, rubbing his face. "What was that for?"

Belt launched into a stern lecture. Guy winced. "Harsh, buddy."

Belt blew a raspberry, and then whistled a question.

"I don't know, I guess—" Guy sighed, stroking his oldest friend. "I've been running almost my whole life. Maybe I just don't know how to stop. What am I supposed to do now, anyway?"

Belt poked him in the ribs. "Ow," muttered Guy. "I mean, I know, there's the easy things, we need food and water and shelter, but what then?" He pursed his lips. "They were supposed to be here with me," he muttered. "They weren't supposed to die. I wasn't meant to do this alone. Not—not any of it." He swallowed. "I wish I could just—talk to them. I wish I didn't have to do it all myself."

Belt's answering purr trilled upward. He crawled up behind Guy's head and grabbed him on both cheeks. "Hey!" Belt made him raise his head from his hands and pointed him in the direction the Croods had gone.

Guy winced. "I was pretty awful to Eep this morning, wasn't I?" Belt rrrrr'd and gave Guy a reproachful look. Guy sighed. "I know. I'll make it up to her later, okay?"

If there was a later, the fear whispered, finally taking form. Guy's heart leapt into his throat. He was an idiot. Hadn't he learned once not to let people he cared about out of his sight? If something happened to her, to them, and his last memory was this morning—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He was on his feet and at the edge of the camp before he could stop himself. Then he turned back and paced across width the camp. Following them wouldn't do any good. He covered more ground in a day than any of them easily, but he had trained for distance, while they were made for speed. They were far faster than he was across short distances. He had no hope of catching them now. He could use a shell, but if they got back and found out that he'd called them just because he was lonely...

Belt climbed from his waist up to hang around his neck, and cooed, patting Guy's face with one clawed paw.

"They're fine," Guy told him. "They're fine."

Belt gave an encouraging whistle.

Guy threw himself back down near the fire, folded his legs and arms, and tried to think.

He raised his eyes and looked around the campsite full of foot, paw, and claw prints, at a fire twice the size of any he had ever built for himself, and the depression in the sandy turf where the Crood family sleep pile had been. The smaller one off to one side, where Eep had lain. Ugga's voice sounded in his head, the words she'd said last night that he had barely listened to, over and over. We're here for you. You don't have to do it by yourself. You don't have to be strong. You're part of our family.

"But they need me," he said quietly. "They need me to be strong. There's so much they don't know, they don't understand—" And the fear surged again, settled into a heavy cold lump in the pit of his stomach. Why had he let them go without him?

Belt purred and leaned around to give Guy a knowing look.

"I...need them too?" Guy said softly, looking at the sloth. Ugga's gentle voice and strong hands, Grug's quiet confidence and encouragement in the tar pit, Gran's sharp eyes and pointed words, Thunk's good intentions and sweet nature, Sandy's enthusiasm, and Eep...he couldn't think about Eep and everything she meant to him, not after the way he'd spoken to her this morning. You have to come back, he thought out at the forest, you have to come back so I can make it right.

Belt was right; he needed them, he needed not to be alone, and for all the things he could teach them, there was one thing that they knew that he didn't – how to make a home. But the thing was, he didn't know how. He didn't know how to accept what they were offering, to take down the wall between them that he couldn't seem to get rid of.

"I wish I could just talk to Mom and Dad, just for a minute," he muttered, only half talking to Belt. "I wish I could just ask them for advice. I wish—I wish I could tell them that I made it." His throat closed and he shut his eyes. They were gone, and the only guidance they could give him were the words he'd carried so long.

Don't hide. Live. Follow the sun. You'll make it to Tomorrow.

"Don't hide," Guy repeated to himself slowly, his eyes opening.

Then he raised his eyes and looked at the forest around him, through the trees at the golden beach beyond, shielding his eyes to look towards the sun that sat just above the water. He held out his hand, covering it, as if to take the bright disk in his palm.

"Don't hide," he whispered. "Live." Belt cooed and crawled back around to drop into Guy's lap. Belt grinned up at him, and Guy grinned back. "Come on," Guy said, getting to his feet, "If we don't want to eat whatever they're bringing back raw, we better do something about this fire."

By the time the Croods returned, triumphantly carrying the carcass of a tall four-legged animal Guy had never seen before, the sun was well overhead. Guy had scraped out a wide pit around the fire and spread the embers with a stick. He had even found some branches and set up a spit. He looked up as they came into camp. He did a quick mental count. One, two, three, four, five...where was Eep?

She launched herself out of a tree, flying through the air to land in a crouch not far from him. His shoulders slumped a little in relief. Everyone accounted for.

Eep straightened and glanced at him, her expression guarded. Guy pretended not to notice.

"Wow," he said, looking at the kill and then grinning at Eep. "I thought I was being optimistic, but now I hope the fire's big enough."

She gave him a tentative smile. He touched her hand as she passed him. "I'm glad you're back," he told her when she turned back to face him.

"You missed a great hunt," she said, a real grin breaking out over her face.

"Can't wait to hear about it." He looked around. "Where are the pets?"

"Chunky made his own kill," Grug said proudly. "They'll wander back when they're done."

Guy offered Ugga his knife a little shyly. She smiled back as she took it and used it to skin the creature. Guy showed Thunk how the spit worked.

Tension in the camp heightened as the meat roasted, the scent making every mouth water (some more obviously than others). Guy carefully cut enough meat for himself and pretended to examine it, although he was already sure the meat was totally cooked. The pretense gave him enough time to shuffle out of the way before he announced, "It's done," and the Croods charged.

There wasn't much left by the time the family was done eating, but everyone had had enough to eat, which was about as much as one could hope for when feeding seven people, Guy supposed. Especially when five of them ate like total savages. His eyes slid to Grug, who was just now getting around to tearing some meat off the carcass. For such a large man, who surely had an equally large appetite, Grug showed a surprising amount of restraint at mealtime. He didn't fight for his food, taking whatever the rest of the family left or would let him have. As a result, he was always the last one left eating.

Aside from an intensely stubborn streak, a pathological need to be in charge, and a dose of pride proportional to his size – Grug really was a good dad.

Guy didn't look anything like his own father, who'd been taller, broader, and generally bigger than him in every way. Guy had his mother's high cheekbones, dark coloring, and slight build. His resemblance to his father was all on the inside; exuberant manner, natural curiosity, constantly-bubbling creativity. An occasional tendency towards more enthusiasm than sense.

Guy shook himself out of those thoughts. "Eep?" he said, glancing to his side.

"Mm?" Eep's mouth was full. None of the Croods really had much use for mealtime conversation.

"Did you find any water while you were out there today?"

Eep swallowed. "Yeah," she said, eyeing him suspiciously around her food.

"Can you tell me where?"

"Easier to show you," she grunted. She glanced back at him. "If you want me to."

He hesitated, knowing he didn't deserve any favors after this morning. "If you don't mind. When you're done."

She shrugged and Guy looked away, trying not to wince, as she polished off the rest of her food with a ferocity and speed that was really quite disturbing.

"Come on," she said, standing up. "It's not far."

Grug looked up from his food as they passed. "Shells?" he said with his mouth full. Eep and Guy both raised theirs. "Be back before dark," Grug muttered, going back to his meal. "And be careful!" he called after them.

Eep took to the trees as soon as they were out of camp, leaping from branch to branch where she could, and only occasionally joining him on the ground. Guy wondered if she ever got tired. They hadn't gone as far as he expected when the trees opened to a small pool fed by an even smaller stream.

It wasn't quite the crystal clear mountain lake he had imagined in the morning, but the water was clear enough and didn't smell of stagnation. Too small to support them for any length of time, he saw immediately. Eep sat on a rock at the edge, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Guy bent gratefully, scooping the water up in his hands to drink, and then bathing his tired eyes. The water was cold enough to make his hands numb, and he briefly wondered where it was coming from. Despite the cold, he splashed it up over his head and arms.

"You'll freeze," Eep observed, as he gasped at the first slosh.

"Better frozen than a dried up husk," he shot her a half-grin. "I haven't felt this dry since I crossed your desert."

"What's a—" Eep started to ask, and then stopped. Guy felt a stab of guilt. One thing at a time, he told himself, and concentrated on his cold splash-bath. His flesh pimpled and shivered, but the cold water was soothing on the places where his skin was raw from yesterday's sand scrub, and he no longer felt coated with salt.

He almost felt human again. "Oookay," he sighed, standing up. "Back to the fire. The warm fire." He wrapped his arms around himself as Eep hopped off her rock.

"Told you," she said matter-of-factly, folding her arms.

"Worth it," he said, shivering. Eep shrugged and walked past him. "Eep, wait." He took a deep breath as she turned. "I'm sorry about this morning," he said, fighting the urge to look at the ground. "I was tired and upset and I shouldn't have taken out on you."

It wasn't half of what he should have said, but that was all it took, and he could see it the instant she forgave him. Her shoulders went back, her expression lightened, and she just...brightened all over. Guy sighed, hugely relieved. He'd seen how Eep could hold a grudge.

"Come on," she said, shoving him awkwardly. "Let's get you back to that fire. She paused, leaning in to look closely at his arm. "You're all bumpy."

Her warm breath on his skin wasn't going to help that situation any, so he nudged her. "Freezing," he reminded, although it was getting on to late afternoon, the warmest part of the day, and he doubted he would be cold for long, even under the trees.

"Oh. Right." She stayed beside him this time, and his hand found hers as they walked back to the camp.