A/N: Forgot to post this yesterday, please review.

He'd gotten down a full gallon of water and half loaf of bread in silence. He was almost full, and still—he wanted to vomit. There was still uneasiness in his gut. They were all sitting on cushions and back support pillows in front of the pharmacy counter at the supermarket waiting for him to start talking about where he'd been. About what he'd seen. He'd eaten and drank long enough that Quinn had returned with a cleaner, sleepier version of Beth in her arms, a sippy cup dangling from her itty bitty hand. He'd made it there. After everything that happened to him the last few days, he'd gotten away from the outskirts and made his way on foot to where his friends had taken refuge. He made it to a safe place for his daughter, and he even managed to keep them alive doing it. His adrenaline was still pumping, even though his body was thoroughly wiped. He wished he could lie down somewhere and doze off, but his head wouldn't let him forget the crap he'd seen (and done) on the way to the market. He looked to Quinn, who was tracing a finger down Beth's perfect little nose, his baby girl snoring lightly as she gave into sleep-finally.

He'd made it. And even though he succeeded, he felt like he'd lost. What he'd lost, he didn't know yet; but something was gone that had been there before this whole mess. In four days he had done anything he possibly could to get to where he was now. He had killed people to get away from that medical station. Thirty seven people. He reasoned with himself that they were infected. That if he didn't put them down they would follow him. That they would track him and Beth down and he would have failed her. But he made it. And even though making it there was the biggest accomplishment he had ever earned, it still felt like failure. They were all staring at him. They were trying not to ask him the questions they all wanted to. They were waiting for the gruesome truth; the gory detail. It seemed cushy inside the market. They had everything they needed and no one really knew they were inside. He'd been outside in that jungle for days… and they were all waiting to know what to expect. He cleared his throat.

"Shelby called me. She asked me to come with her to that medical station. In case they kept her and she needed somebody to take Beth for the night…she said she was just a little sick."

It was pindrop quiet. He felt like a prophet bringing tales of the new land. He focused on Tina. She was holding onto Mike's hand, and he saw tears in her eyes already, like she was preparing herself to cry at any given moment.

"When we got there, there were army guys everywhere, and everyone had to turn in their car keys and… turn off their cell phones. We had to check in, and wait in line to be lead to these giant white tents."

He gulped. It seemed like so long ago, already. Like he was telling them about some old event, some distant war story where he was supposed to be some hero. He felt like he had to get it out this one time and then he could begin to forget it. They would all know and it wouldn't be his burden anymore. The market was stable. They could make this work. He let his eyes trace over Rachel's face. She sat directly across from him, her hands folded in her lap on top of her skirt; her knuckles white from her squeezing them. Rachel looked afraid. Like she knew that she was about to hear something she couldn't unhear.

"When we got there, Shelby started shaking really bad… so the medics lead us over to a different line and they tied her hands behind her back with those plastic pull fisticuffs they use for the kids over at juvie. They told us that it was for everyone's safety. I didn't get it at first, you know—what was going on. They weren't giving us any info, they were just checking people in and drawing blood and taking notes. Everybody was on cots or they were tied down to beds and chairs. Some people were rocking and laughing to themselves and some of them were throwing up. I only knew it was bad when they made Shelby put on a muzzle. Like full on Cannibal Lector facemask. They said she was in stage three, and they bolted her down to a cot. They told me to take Beth to the clean tent and wait for instructions. Around midnight sirens started going off… by the time I got to Shelby's tent, most of the people on the cots were gone. There were guards running around with guns and there were random people just cackling and running around in medical gowns—everything was going to shit. The people waiting in the check in lines were getting rowdy outside. And I was just holding Beth and trying to talk to Shelby. But she was too far gone."

He looked away from Rachel's gaze, then, not sure how the death of her birth mother would affect her. He stared at the tiles before continuing.

"Shelby couldn't keep her hands still and she kept begging me to unlock the muzzle. I did. But when I pulled it off, she tried to take a chunk out of my arm. I didn't know what was going on. Other than the shakes...she seemed normal you know? But when she tried to bite me, I just took a few steps back. She started begging me to hold Beth, to unbuckle her arm restraints. The more I told her no...the angrier she got. I knew that she wasn't Shelby anymore; and I knew that I had to leave. She started laughing really hard, but she looked so sad at the same time. I told her that I would keep Beth safe no matter what."

He looked over at Quinn, who was rocking Beth even though she was already sleeping, before looking back at the floor. He pulled on his knuckles in need of a distraction, refocusing his gaze on a different floor tile.

"It was getting really loud, so I thought about finding a weapon. There were so many empty cars parked outside, the medical station got too crowded and the soldiers couldn't control all the people. And then… people in line for check ins just started biting the soldiers. So the soldiers just started shooting. I had Beth strapped to my chest and all I had was her baby bag. I finally found a gun and some ammo on a fallen soldier by the main tent. Those people were everywhere. The soldiers were just killing as many people as possible. They weren't checking to see who was sick and who wasn't anymore. They were just killing everybody. When I passed by Shelby's tent again... a soldier was standing by her bed. He pulled his gun out and she started begging him not to, telling him she was okay. But he just shot her and left her strapped to that bed. And that was when I ran. I just picked a direction and hoped me and Beth got out."

When he looked up from the floor, Rachel was crying beside Quinn. Quinn let her hand rest on top of Rachel's. He let his eyes travel slowly around the circle. Mike was wiping away Tina's tears, but letting his own fall down his face without wiping them away. Sugar was biting her lip; she looked more confused than worried. Santana and Brittany were quiet beside him, waiting for him to finish telling them how he made it there. He could still see it all in his head. He still felt himself running with Beth strapped to his chest, a gun in his hand. He remembered the noises of flesh tearing from bone, and he remembered gun shots booming in his ears. He remembered the kickback of the pistol. And even the looks on some people's faces when he shot them. He remembered seeing so many people from the clean tent being eaten alive by the sick. He had to shake his head before finding his voice again.

"I had to stay in the woods all night and the next morning because there were people eating dead bodies on the roads. And I tried… I tried to avoid most of them, but some of them saw us and I… I had to put them down before they got to us. Some of them seemed okay, you know? Like Becky. I found a tree to climb that was high enough to see over the medical station, but had enough brush that people wouldn't see us unless they looked long enough. But it was so loud out there, Beth wouldn't stop crying. And Becky heard her. And she stood at the bottom of that tree with blood on her chin and she tried to get me to actually believe that she wasn't sick too. And... and then she started climbing up and I just- I just shot the gun. We got through half the night without anyone else walking by us. That was where I saw Blaine. He had on a medical gown still and he was just wandering around the woods with his nose up. Like he could follow our scent. I almost shot him. I should have. But there were others and I only had five clips. So I let him go and he walked by us, talking to himself and laughing out loud all the way to the main road. I had seen Blaine on the way in with Shelby. I didn't think he would have made it..."

"Who else was there, that we know?"

Sugar finally blurted it out. He sighed. He expected that question.

"No one...important. I saw a few teachers, a few guys from the band. It was mostly blurs of people and...I just had to get out of there. I didn't see any parents, I didn't see anybody from glee. But...most of the sick at the medical station...they fled. When me and Beth finally came down from that tree...everybody was either gone or dead. There were groups of the sick walking the roads, fighting over whatever bodies they could find. But it looked like a lot of them took the main road to Westerville. After the roads cleared, I finally started walking into town. I went straight to my house… I had to make sure they weren't…I had to check."

Santana started rubbing his back. He'd knock her arm off if he didn't need the human contact. His chest got tighter.

"Nobody was home. And I remembered my phone and I turned it on and I got Quinn's messages. I drove my pickup over here... but I didn't want them following me if they were hiding in the stores. I saw them in the woods in groups. They...they set up traps for people; they try to get you to think they're okay and then they snatch you if you fall for it. So me and Beth had to be careful…so I parked a few blocks over and I kept quiet. I didn't think I would make it. We can't go back out there you guys. We have to stay inside and stay away from those freaks. Nobody's safe anymore."

They had all gotten closer to him somehow. Like the cushions and pillows had all been scooted forward so they could all be around him. It was the first time in the last four days he hadn't been terrified.

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Quinn was inside the basement. She forced herself down there when Puck finally passed out. She'd been sitting on that bottom step, watching Puck sleep with Beth resting comfortably on his chest—her thumb tucked in her mouth. She watched the rise and fall of Puck's chest, marveling in how balanced Beth stayed on his belly, Puck's arms wrapped both gently and protectively around their daughter. She had thought she'd still been asleep earlier. She'd convinced herself that she was sleep inside the surveillance room when she heard the gunshots. When she first looked up to see Puck standing at the side door on the security monitor, gun still drawn at a fallen Blaine Anderson, two bullet holes clean in his face and shoulder—she thought she had fallen asleep and was forced into this cruel world where all these things were possible. She thought she was dreaming when she heard her daughter crying. But there was a tug in her stomach that told her she was really hearing her baby, and she realized that the gunshots were what woke her up—and that her daughter was right outside.

She ran as fast as she could to the side door, her heart ricocheted around her rib cage until she had her daughter in her arms. She loved Puck more in that moment than any other before it. She changed and cleaned Beth with what was inside her baby bag. She let her drink Pedialite from her sippy cup until she finally fell asleep, the cup dangling precariously from her itty bitty fingertips. She didn't care what happened to the world...Beth was safe.

When she found the group again, she learned what exactly had happened to the people in Lima; what she assumed happened to the entire country, now. Puck's retelling of his last few days outside had filled in so many of the gaps. She'd never doubt Noah Puckerman again. She knew that he would grow up to be a great man. She knew that if she let him be a father, he would have proven to be a wonderful one. Everything he had done in the last few days confirmed it.

The step above her creaked. Rachel drifted down slowly, both of her hands lightly grazing the narrow stairwell as she stepped down past the step Quinn was sitting on to take a seat beside her. Quinn made no protests. Rachel had been ducking her head into the security room the last couple days, trying to coax her from her hiding spot politely. There was a pang in her chest she chose to ignore each time Rachel came looking for her; and Quinn had told herself that she couldn't afford any emotional attachments here. She couldn't afford hope a few days ago. Most of her hope had dissipated; gone like the residents of this town. Her tomorrows looked grim, and it only burned question marks in her brain. She had these games she played with herself to make the situation lighter...lies she had convinced herself of to keep herself from falling into the depths of really knowing.

Her hope came back strapped to the chest of the man lying on the giant basement bed. All the things she had been worried about were no longer worries. She found faith again in Puck's heroic struggle to bring back the baby girl she'd given away for a better life. Only to have Beth brought back to her with promises of a dismal future... an infected one.

But tomorrow wasn't here yet, so she basked in the comfort of knowing that her daughter hadn't been left for dead...or worse. Rachel sighed beside her. It was loud enough to break her from her thoughts.

"I'm happy that you got her back, Quinn. If anyone, it needed to be you."

Rachel spoke quietly. She whispered her words even though Puck and Beth were so exhausted they wouldn't hear them.

"Why do you say that?" Quinn's own voice felt foreign.

Rachel shrugged. She had iPod earphones dangled around her neck; music lightly drifted through the buds and tickled Quinn's ears with a song that seemed like a familiar stranger.

"Well, everyone else in the market has someone. When something like this happens, you need someone to lean on, someone to carry these burdens with you. Without that connection, you give up. There is no reason to keep going when you don't have anything lighting the end of your tunnel."

Quinn thought about it momentarily.

"Well, what about you? Who do you have?"

Rachel smiled.

"I have my music. I have all this; right now. I'm in here and I am safe...and every day I'm still here, I'm still safe. I'm alive; and even if this is the end... I'm here with people I knew from before. And Noah has even proved that there may be others. I may get lucky and my fathers are okay. Someone dear and near to me who isn't already here may still knock on that door. And as long as I have faith in that; and as long as we go uninfected, I can believe in tomorrow. Beth is your tomorrow... she's your reason to keep going. She's even gotten you out of that security room."

They both giggled at that. The smile seemed strange on Quinn's lips, like her mouth had forgotten how to make them in the short time they'd been there. It wilted from her face moments later, her next question frowning her features solemnly.

"What if there's nothing after this? What if there is no help? What if this is all we have to look forward to?"

Rachel sighed. The song that had been playing subtly over her earphones had changed, a slow and haunting melody wafted to Quinn's ears now- this song unfamiliar as well, but fitting. Rachel looked at her then, determination in her eyes that reminded her so much of days before these last few, when that spark in Rachel's deep browns meant that she was going to get whatever she wanted, no matter what.

"We still have this. And the infected people outside...they're hungry. Sooner or later they'll starve. We don't know what will happen. All we can do is be prepared for an escape. Or a fight. We fight until we can't fight anymore. We live until there is no other option."

Quinn never knew why Rachel was so easy to open up to. She didn't understand why the girl sitting beside her on the stairs brought her comfort when nothing else could. She took Rachel's hand quietly, words no longer necessary, and she linked their fingers together in reassurance. They sat that way for a while, watching Puck and Beth sleep with the occasional squeeze of their hands.

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