Chapter Twenty

'Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity;
Those are its signs and note and character.'
-Robert Browning, 'Paracelsus'

Inside the small apartment, nine adults - or near enough to adults as they could possibly be - and a small child, did not fit comfortably. There was a spare room, and then Shelby's bedroom, and the couch, but still, they didn't all fit.

Even crowding through the doorway seemed like an effort, but Finn was quick to pull them inside, face blanching as he saw Kurt, bundled in Blaine's arms, the material of Noah's shirt already stained with blood around his shoulder.

'Kurt,' he whispered. 'Are you okay?'

Kurt nodded, but Blaine pushed past Finn, into the house and placed him on the couch without waiting for permission.

'Blaine, I'm fine,' he tried to say. He used his free arm to push himself up, into a sitting position, but Blaine was already hovering over him with worried eyes, holding his hand again and making things difficult. 'Blaine!'

He dropped his hand like it was on fire. 'Sorry.'

'What happened?' Finn asked, directing it to the room in the general, but his eyes moved between Kurt, his brother, whom he should have protected, and Rachel, who seemed lost and angry at him.

'Kurt got shot,' Blaine said.

'I can see that. But what happened?'

Everyone remained silent, unsure how to answer. It was Shelby who broke it, bringing from the bathroom betadine ointment and a small pile of fresh cloth. 'Let's change this wound,' she said.

Reluctantly, Blaine stepped away from the couch, dropping Kurt's hand and watching with wide eyes as she worked, removing Noah's shirt and handing it to Blaine with instructions to place it in a plastic bag by the kitchen sink.

She moved methodically, cleaning the wound carefully with the ointment and wrapping it tight. When she was done, she rocked back on her heels and smiled at Kurt. 'Not too painful, I hope?' she said.

'It's clean, and that's what matters, right?' he said with a grimace.

'Well, it's not a proper doctors job, and we'll need to call someone, but it's something.' She moved away from the catch, and Blaine stepped forward to take his place again.

'What happened to you guys?' Shelby asked.

It was a simple enough question, and coming from her, an answer seemed to be appropriate.

'We were hiding inside a tunnel,' Kurt said, sitting up. 'It was a good idea, because they couldn't attack us from the air in there. But then they sent in cars, and Officers. We had Noah and Quinn and Beth,' he motioned with his hand, 'in a maintenance shaft, for protection, but the Officers started searching them. So Blaine and I went to try and warn them.'

There was a slight pause in his story where he glanced at Blaine, but the younger boy was staring resolutely at the ground.

'And then there were Officers on all sides of them, and we attacked them, and we thought we were okay. They were all on the ground, not dead, but out of it, and the last one was young, so we'd persuaded him to go back to his bosses and tell them we were dead.' He bit his lip. 'And then one of the first ones, that I'd knocked against a wall, stood up, and he was aiming for Blaine.' His voice shook slightly, and without looking at him, Blaine's hand snaked into his. 'So I tried to stop him, and Blaine shot at him, but he'd already got a shot out, and it hit me.'

Everyone in the room was watching him with wide eyes, waking for a breakdown. But none came. He only steeled his shoulders slightly, squeezed Blaine's hand, and let out a wane smile. 'But it's okay. I survived.'

Shelby looked at him appreciatively. 'You were lucky. I'm amazed that all of you took on what you did.' She smiled at them all, her eyes lingering for a moment on Rachel, who turned her head away from her gaze. 'You're all idiots, but you've done some good things with it.' She let out a short sharp laugh. 'I'm going to call someone I know who can do a proper job for Kurt. Stick tight.'

And she moved away from the small circle that had somehow formed around the sofa to make the call in her bedroom.

'What did you do?' Finn asked immediately, turning to Rachel. 'I thought this was just going to be some little homegrown thing and now people are getting shot!'

'Well, what did you do about it, Finn?' she replied, anger growing in her voice as if a switch had been flicked, and Shelby's departure had been the catalyst. 'I didn't see you helping us out with your big muscles and manliness.'

Finn scowled. 'How was I supposed to ever find you! You were completely off the grid! We were expecting something on the news or anything, and then Burt suggested coming here. He thought you might have come here for safety, after he talked to your dads.'

'You came here to find us?' her voice softened slightly.

'I thought it was the best idea. I didn't know how else to do it. It was just luck that you actually came here really.'

Rachel nodded, almost to herself. 'It is,' she whispered.

He took a step towards her, and even though they were in the middle of Shelby's living room, with people all around them, he took her hand gently and pulled her towards him and into a hug. 'I love you, Rachel,' he whispered in return.

'Oh, sweet.' Santana's voice cut across them as she flopped down in the armchair that rested across from the sofa. 'Just so touching. Never mind the fact that I'm without my significant other, Kurt has a gaping wound in his shoulder, and world's best parents over here have a kid that endangers us all whenever we're doing anything.'

'She's not a-' Quinn began, but cut herself off. 'I don't want to leave her here.'

'Where else?' Santana asked, raising her hands and shrugging. 'Here's better than anywhere. At least you know Rachel's mom will look after her. She seems nice enough, and she's not with the Regime.'

'But- she's my-'

'Yeah, and she's a hassle. Pick her up later or something. Just don't bring her with us when we leave.'

It was almost an order, and Quinn shot Santana a look as she moved Beth on her hip. The little girl was falling asleep, and rested her head in the crook of her mother's neck.

'Maybe it would be a good idea.' It was Noah speaking, and he moved closer, resting an arm around Quinn's waist. She didn't move it away from her.

'Why?' she whispered.

'I mean, we can't protect her forever if we're in the middle of danger. Wouldn't it be better for her to be somewhere out of it all?'

She bit her lip, frustrated. 'No, it wouldn't. I'm her mother and-'

'You know it would. You just don't want to leave her behind.'

'I-'

'You know it's true.' He squeezed her lightly, lifting up a hand to brush back a loose strand of Beth's hair. 'Leave her here with Shelby and we can come and pick her up when we've finished. When this is all over.'

'But what if it's never over?'

And that was kind of the problem, but Noah just shrugged. 'We'll come to that if it happens.'

Quinn nodded softly, and Noah smiled.

'Guys,' Shelby's voice rang out as she entered the room again, and Quinn removed herself quickly from Noah's grip. 'The doctor will be here in the morning. What does everyone want for dinner?'

In the control tower, chaos reigned.

'You say they're dead?'

'Yes. That's what the Officer said.'

'But didn't we see a car-'

'Yes, but we couldn't prove it was them. We've tracked the car to New York, but we lost them once they got inside the bustle of the city. And the Officer insists they died inside the maintenance shaft. All of the men from his unit can't remember a thing, except they arrived back outside the tunnel, and he told them there were no survivors.'

Another voice, louder than the others, joined the melee. 'That sounds like complete bullshit to me.'

'I agree, sir.'

'Why aren't we doing everything within our power to find them and remove them from this situation. Hostilities are not tolerated by the Regime.' He was a high up official, portly, and when he clasped his hands behind his back, his large stomach bulged outwards, around the constraint of his belt.

'We're trying, sir. We're not sure where to look next.'

'Wasn't someone saying just this morning that one of the girls had a mother living in New York? Isn't she a suitable place to start?'

Heads turned in his direction, as if coming across an epiphany. It was common knowledge within this part of the control tower that this man was not prone to moments of genius.

'We'll get on that, sir,' someone managed to speak finally.

'I suggest you raid her house,' he said. 'See what you find there. I'm sure you'll pull up something.'

'Shall we begin tonight?'

The man shook his head. 'No, give them till tomorrow morning. Make sure they're definitely there. And then go in hard.'

All heads in the room nodded.

It was a plan.

The next morning dawned early. The teenagers that lay sprawled across the living room sofas and floor had fallen asleep quickly, welcoming it like an old friend. It seemed like they hadn't slept in days.

But all too soon, it was time to wake up, and Shelby was walking between them, pressing a hand to Finn's shoulder, and Noah's, and shaking Blaine gently. Beth was curled between Quinn and Noah, and she was already awake, lifting her feet above her head and playing with them. Shelby smiled down at her before moving back to the kitchen.

On the stove, bacon was cooking. She'd dredged all she could from the freezer, laying it out on the island to defrost and then moving it bit by bit into the small fry pan, and then to the oven, just hot enough to keep the rashers warm.

'Mm, smells good,' Finn said. He was the first to be standing, and he seemed to have arrived at the smell of the food, pressing his nose close to the fry pan. 'Is there eggs?'

'There will be if you give me time. It's a lot of working cooking for a lot of people on a small stove.'

He nodded, smiling, and sat down at the table, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Slowly, the others joined them, first Noah, who sat down roughly next to Finn, and then Santana and Tina. Shelby passed out plates and then dished out the bacon, pushing it onto the dishes before cracking eggs into the fry pan. They become a jumbled mess, unable to be turned, and instead she poured cream into the pan and mixed them round to make something resembling scrambled eggs.

Quinn made her way to the table, Beth on her hip. 'Is there something I can feed her?' she asked, rocking the little girl on her hip. 'Any bread or something?'

Shelby nodded and motioned towards the pantry, which stood half open. The loaf of bread was right near the front, and Quinn reached to pull out a slice, handing it quickly to Beth. The little girl shoved it into her mouth in one piece, pushing the edges in until her cheeks bulged and she grinned.

'You're a pig,' Quinn laughed. 'A little greedy pig.'

Blaine and Kurt were the last ones to get breakfast. Blaine stood up, releasing the hand of Kurt's that he had held all through the night. 'What do you want?' he asked. 'I'll get you something.'

'I'm fine,' Kurt said. He pushed his feet off the edge of the sofa and stood up, not wincing. 'It's only my shoulder. I'm not an invalid.'

But Blaine was frowning and watching him with worried eyes. As he moved across the room towards the kitchen table, Blaine followed close behind, as if worried he might keel over at any moment.

It was unnecessary, Kurt only wincing when he received the plate from Shelby with his bad arm.

'The doctor will be here in ten minutes or so,' Shelby said with a smile as she handed another plate to Blaine. 'I told him it was a gunshot, so he'll be prepared. It might need stitches, and probably a better wrapping than what any of us could do. There won't be anaesthetic. Are you going to be alright?'

Kurt nodded. 'I have a high pain tolerance.'

But Blaine looked anxious. The older boy pressed a hand to his upper arm.

'I'll be fine.'

He frowned, but said nothing, and only began to eat his breakfast in silence.

Outside the window, the sun was bursting over the horizon, lighting the flat landscape of New York City. It seemed like a brand new day, a brand new beginning, and anyone outside that small apartment may have thought so. But the teenagers sitting inside it only felt as if it was another day of hell, and torture and not knowing what would happen next. The only positive to the moment was that it was a brief respite, their stay at Shelby's. They could pretend, by eating a properly cooked breakfast, that they were not on the run, hiding from the Regime.

The buzzer rang out across the apartment, and Shelby moved quickly across the room to open the door and run down the stairs to open the main door outside. Moments later and she was back, a young man with an already receding hairline behind her.

'Hi, my name's Andrew,' he said, his voice bright and smiling. His eyes scanned the room, searching for his casualty as he placed his briefcase on the couch, and then he spotted Kurt. 'Ah, you must be the patient!' He was a charismatic man with a warm smile, but it didn't seem to fit the situation. He was too happy, especially for someone who Shelby claimed was a friend and against the Regime. It made his smile seem automatic, a show that he put on for the people he met, the patients he saw.

'That would be me,' Kurt deadpanned and shifted closer to him, sitting himself down on the couch. 'Stitch me up.'

The doctor - Andrew - smiled at him, that almost fake smile, and motioned to the bandage Shelby had wrapped tightly around his arm.

'The woman did a good job, eh?' he said with a short sharp laugh.

'I guess so.'

He pulled back the material, unwinding it from Kurt's arm and examined the bullet wound carefully, pulling out a swab of something from his briefcase and dabbing it onto the dried blood. Kurt winced, but didn't say anything, and hardly even changed his level of breathing.

'You got yourself badly hit here, didn't you?'

'Yeah.'

'It'll need stitches.'

'I thought it would.'

The doctor pulled the needle and thread from his bag. 'Sorry about this. I can't take anesthetics from the hospital without them raising questions, so we're going to have to do this old school.'

Kurt nodded forcefully.

'It'll sting, but I'll do my best to only hit scar tissue if I can. Do one of the girls want to hold your hand or something?'

Andrew's gaze roved across the room, falling on Rachel, but the small girl only shook her head and pushed Blaine closer to the couch, to move beside Kurt and take his hand.

'Sorry,' Blaine whispered as he sat down beside him. 'I'm sorry.'

But Kurt only nodded, gritting his teeth together as Andrew the doctor moved closer with his needle and thread, that looked like nothing more than cotton from a sewing kit.

He closed his eyes tight.

On the other side of the room, as Andrew the doctor worked, Shelby was in hushed conversation with Quinn, Noah, Finn, Santana, Tina and Rachel.

'We can't stay,' Rachel said softly. 'We can't do this to you. We can't bring our worries onto your household.'

'Household?' Shelby responded with a sharp laugh. 'This isn't a household. This is a lonely woman wondering what she did with her life. You're welcome to stay. It will make it more interesting.'

'No,' Santana agreed with Rachel, a rarity. 'We told ourselves we have to be proactive. We can't sit back and keep running, that will get us nowhere. We have to actually do something. All we need is a plan.'

Tina nodded. 'When we were coming into the city, I saw the Control Tower. It was obvious, of course-'

'Of course,' Shelby nodded.

'I think that should be our aim.'

Another appreciative nod. 'Then you need somewhere to use as a base. This place is too small, especially for so many teenagers.' She glanced towards Finn, whose head almost brushed the ceiling. 'There's an old hotel on the opposite edge of the city from here. An old friend owns it, and he'd be willing to put you up in rooms if you tell him I sent you.'

Rachel nodded thankfully.

'We'd like to leave soon, once Kurt's done, before the traffic starts up. We're flagged, if you didn't realise.'

Shelby smiled. 'I realised.'

She hugged her daughter, but it was an awkward one, one that should have said a lot, but just said "thank you for being someone who we could trust" and not "thank you for being my mother".

Tina and Santana moved towards the door, and Rachel slipped her hand into Finn's. Together, they followed close behind. Only Quinn and Noah remained.

'Uh-' Quinn asked, moving Beth from one hip to the other. 'I was just- I was wondering if it's possible for you to, uh-'

Shelby sent her an encouraging smile.

'Could you please look after my daughter for me?'

The woman blinked, almost in shock, but then she was smiling again, her default position, but it was human, much more believable than Andrew the doctors. 'Of course I will, Quinn.'

'Thank you.'