A/N: Hey everyone. It looks like the majority of the votes were for a sequel, so with that in mind, this will be the last chapter of this story. HOWEVER, I promise there will be a sequel. I know I said 3-5 more chapters, but it felt right to end it here and I've got some personal stuff going on that I need to focus on for a bit. I'll start outlining the sequel immediately, but I don't know when I'll start writing on it. Hopefully within the next few weeks. I appreciate all of you, I know this story had some slow and rough patches, but you made it through and I'm so thankful for your time and dedication to reading this. I really enjoyed it.
I don't know yet what the sequel will be named, but I'll make it clear in the summary that it's a follow up to The New Reality. Follow me here or on Tumblr (countingcrow16) if you want to be sure to catch it when it's published.
Thanks again for reading!
I don't own Glee.
Chapter 27
Three weeks later
Kurt and Marina were beyond exhausted. They were closing in on almost a month on their own and the daily travel was starting to wear the duo down. When Kurt had returned from his mission to the abandoned cave, he didn't need to say anything to Marina. She was able to read it all in his face. They cried, they reminisced, and they cried some more before falling into a fitful sleep, only to wake up feeling numb and foggy the next morning.
They were silent as they packed their meager belongings and shimmied down the tree for the last time. They walked for a few hours, stopping when they came to any water reserve or when they came across a patch of berries or a scattering of nuts on the forest floor. They'd been out in the wilderness long enough to know what was safe to eat and what wasn't without having to refer to Marina's guidebooks.
There hadn't been any signs of civilization since fleeing the cave all those weeks ago, although occasionally, their route through the woods would take them across long abandoned highways and crumbling roads. A rusty old service station popped into view once, and sheer pessimism of finding anything worthwhile was the only thing that kept them from exploring. They were still traveling onward, but their hearts weren't quite in it. Of course they had grown to love and care for each other, but it felt like a huge piece of them had been gouged violently out. They felt as if they would never be whole again.
"Do you think it'll get easier?" Marina asked Kurt out of the blue one day. At first he didn't understand what she was asking. He almost asked for clarification before he figured it out.
"I think so," Kurt answered, despite the way the knife turned cruelly in his gut as he spoke the words. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how it ever could be anything less than completely and utterly devastating, but he needed to share in Marina's small sense of hope, her tiny optimism.
"I miss her so much," Marina admitted, voice trembling. Kurt felt tears burning his own eyes. He nodded wordlessly.
They were silent again after that, the way they had been for the majority of their travels. They didn't speak much because every time they did, the conversation drifted back to Santana and Blaine and they found themselves incapable of focusing on the task at hand, which was survival. If they could just make it to their destination safely, then they would have time to properly mourn. The problem was, they weren't even sure where they were going or if they'd even know when they'd reached their destination in the first place.
Even though they didn't talk much while they travelled during the day, the nights were different. Underneath the stars, usually up in a tall tree, they would talk quietly until they fell asleep. Their conversations always started out with planning out the next day, wondering when they would finally run into one of the oft-dreamed about safe havens outside of the Communities. They would talk about how wonderful it was going to be, not having the restrictions and punishments they were so used to.
"I wish Blaine and Santana could be here with us when we finally make it," one of them would almost always say. The other would sigh in agreement and the conversation would veer from there. They would be talking to each other in the beginning, but by the end it was like they were having two separate conversations, each with themselves, or rather, Marina conversing with an absent Santana and Kurt with an absent Blaine. As hard as each was trying to grasp the reality of the situation, neither was quite ready to make that final leap into acceptance.
Kurt would always wait until he heard Marina's breathing evening out before he allowed himself to succumb to the exhaustion himself. He felt better knowing that she wouldn't be sitting there awake, unable to sleep while he slumbered. It gave him some small comfort that, despite everything, they each got a slight reprieve for the short hours they were unconscious.
Kurt awoke with a start one morning, almost shooting straight up before he remembered his surroundings and realized that if he did pop up from where he half-laid, half-sat on the branch, his forehead would be met with the branch directly above him, leaving a nasty knot and a nasty headache to match. He turned his head to the side to see Marina watching him. She looked as sleepy as he felt.
"Hey," he greeted, voice gravelly from lack of use. "How long have you been awake?"
"Just a few minutes," she replied, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I had a good dream."
Kurt perked up a bit at this. Despite how horrible he felt inside, it gave him hope that Marina was showing even the smallest sign of improving. "Tell me about it," he encouraged.
"I dreamt that you and I woke up because someone was shouting our names from below," she explained, a small, incredibly rare smile spreading across her lips as she spoke. "It was them. They said they had been looking for us all this time and couldn't believe it when they found us. We hopped down from the tree and just started hugging them and dancing around and laughing…it was really good."
Kurt found himself smiling for the first time in weeks as Marina recounted the dream. It wasn't real, but as she spoke, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy with her, and he felt a warmth inside of him that he hadn't felt in a while. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was the beginning of healing.
"That does sound like a good dream," Kurt agreed, reaching over to squeeze her hand. They both began to sit up slowly and within a few minutes, they'd eaten a meager breakfast and were climbing back down the tree.
"It can't be too much farther," Marina found herself saying a few hours later, much as she had every day for about the last two weeks. She was right, of course. They had to eventually run into something, and Kurt was honestly surprised it hadn't happened yet.
"I'm sure it's—"
"FREEZE!"
Before Kurt could finish his sentence, he and Marina were surrounded by about six people on all sides. They'd appeared out of nowhere, jumping out of trees or from behind tall bushes and brush. Some had guns drawn, some had knives, and all weapons were aimed on the two of them. Kurt and Marina threw their hands up and out, protecting themselves as best they could.
"Who are you?" a woman asked, looking Kurt in the eyes. The people weren't dressed like the officers from their old community, but he had no way of knowing how it worked in other communities.
"K-Kurt 3 Lima," he stammered quietly with his hands still in the air. He was caught so off-guard, he didn't even have time to think about lying. "A-and this is Marina 3 Lima."
"Three what?" the woman asked, obviously confused. "Who do you represent?"
"I don't, I don't know what you're asking," Kurt stumbled again.
"Where are you from?" the woman clarified impatiently.
"Columbus," Kurt answered, hoping the truth would save them somehow. He had the feeling that this rag-tag looking team of people surrounding him didn't represent an official Community. At least, that's what he hoped. "We escaped a couple of months ago. We're looking for refuge."
"You're no longer members of your Community?" she asked. Both Kurt and Marina shook their heads. "Pat them down."
The surrounding members rushed forward and began patting the two down thoroughly. Kurt and Marina could do nothing but look at each other with overwhelmed expressions.
"They're clean, Marge," one of the men affirmed.
"Alright, bring 'em in," Marge ordered, and with a person on each elbow and one behind, the group began marching toward an unknown location.
"Where are you taking us?" Marina blurted out. Kurt shot a look at her, trying to convey to her to stay quiet. He still wasn't sure if these people were trying to help them or harm them.
"You're seeking refuge, correct?" Marge asked, looking back at Marina. Marina nodded, but Marge turned around wordlessly and kept leading them. Kurt prayed that it was a good sign.
About a half a mile later, the group reached a wall, similar in size and scope to the one surrounding their old Community. As they neared, Kurt's feet involuntarily stopped moving.
"No," he grunted, trying to throw off the hands that grasped his elbows. He'd travelled too far to be dragged back into the confines of a Community, even if it was a different one from his own.
"Let him go," Marge ordered, and the two men immediately dropped their grips. Kurt stumbled back a few feet, shocked that he'd been released. Marge advanced slowly, with her hands held out to show that she wasn't going to reach for her weapon. "It's okay, son," she spoke gently. "The walls are to keep bad people out, not good people in. You're free to come and go from here."
Kurt was wide-eyed and silent as he tried to absorb what Marge was telling him. She was slightly older than middle-aged, but fit and obviously the leader in this group. She spoke to him like he was a child, but not in a condescending way. And really, Kurt was still a child in a lot of ways, craving the affection of a parent that had been ripped away from him at such a young age. Tears started to collect in his eyes as he fought hard to maintain a steely exterior. He caught Marina watching him curiously out of the corner of his eye.
"Why don't you just take a look inside," Marge offered. "You can walk in on your own and you can leave if you want, but at least take a look. We aren't like the Community you're from, I promise you that."
Kurt studied her for another moment before nodding slightly. Marge signaled for the group to head in and she stayed behind while Kurt found the courage to step forward. Picking up his feet and placing one in front of the other was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he had to know if this was what they'd been looking for. He'd come all this way, lost so much, he couldn't turn his back on what could have been his saving grace. Marge walked with him, but far enough away from him that Kurt didn't feel threatened.
He watched as Marina disappeared with the group inside of the gate in the wall and it suddenly clicked inside of him that he was neglecting his duty to protect her at all cost. He picked up his pace until he was half-walking, half-jogging through the entrance.
What he saw inside was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. There were people milling around freely, in and out of buildings, tending to small gardens or animals. There were children running around from place to place, carefree and giggling. It wasn't heaven, Kurt was sure of that. It was obvious that people were working hard and struggling, but it was so different than what he was used to. No uniforms, no neatly manicured lawns, no signs indicating 'Fertiles Only' or 'Infertile Housing Unit' or anything to suggest that there was any such designation at all. Kurt allowed his eyes to scan the area directly in front of him several times over.
"Welcome to New Lima," Marge said, pride filling her words. "We're all former refugees, or in the case of some of the younger ones, children of former refugees. We are a community in the sense that we work together for the common good, but you won't find any restrictions here on how you choose to live. Everyone is expected to help out in whatever way they can, but there are no roles, no punishments, no violence whatsoever. You and your friend are welcome to stay here if you'd like."
Kurt had no words prepared for this situation. He had no idea how to work through the plethora of emotions that were hitting him at that moment. His inability to speak and the reasons behind it must have been evident on his face, because Marge let out a chuckle and patted him gently on the back.
"Take a look around and get back to me, okay?" she asked. "I'll be right over there when you've made your decision."
Kurt barely managed a nod as he started walking slowly toward the group of people in front of him. He'd barely gotten close enough to reach out and touch one of the travelling tomato vines in a small square garden when he heard a familiar voice call out his name. A voice that he hadn't heard in weeks and that he never expected to hear again. A voice that he fell in love with all over again in that instant.
"Kurt?"
