Dead Girls Don't Sing

by G13

S3 AU. Brittany doesn't believe in unicorns anymore, Rachel's dreams are as dead as the world, Santana is no one's hero…and Quinn? Quinn's just trying to breathe. The world as they knew it is gone -now all they can do is survive. Zombie Apocalypse. Faberrittana Friendship. Slow Faberry. Character Death. COMPLETE

37. Prayer of St Francis

Santana glared at Sebastian. "You're in my spot. Move."

He cracked open one eye, and stared at her as he lazily laid in the sun she'd just been enjoying previously.

Santana needed to talk to Brittany.

She was a coward though, and instead had been working on her quilt.

Sebastian flicked and pointed a finger languidly at the pile of quilting supplies she'd left when she needed to take a quick pee break. "That yours?"

"Yeah. Move."

He scooted over a few inches, taking the opportunity to stretch out, posing for her benefit.

"You realize I'm a lesbian right? Save the attempts at being sexy for Rachel."

"That didn't stop you from having sex with guys, did it?" He replied smoothly.

"Who told you that?" she snapped at him. "And that was different. I was in the closet, and -"

He held up a hand, "I get it Santana. There's a reason teen pregnancy rates are -or were, I guess, really high for LGBT youth. But maybe, " he slid closer to her, "You're a little flexible. I am. If Brittany wanted a threesome, I bet you'd be into it. "

She rolled her eyes, "If I was going to sleep with a guy for whatever reason, it would not be you ferret face. I'm firmly not interested, so cut the crap. Rachel seems like she'd go for it, try her and Quinn after Quinn's better."

He laughed, "It's the apocalypse Tiger. There's probably a million people left in the world. If that. Comes time you and Brittany want to do your share to repopulate the world, come find me instead of Sugar Lips, okay?"

She flinched at the mention of repopulating the world.

Nicholas. Thinking about him brought a weird sort of hurt inside her that she was pretty sure she was too young to understand.

She then turned to stare at Sebastian stonily, she snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Listen up Ferret Face, Aunty Snixx is going to impart wisdom. First of all, I wouldn't pass your genes onto the next generation. That'd be cruel. Secondly, I don't care whatever daddy issues you have, you keep being creepy and flirty with everyone. It needs to stop. Yesterday.

I swear I saw you letting Bacon hump your leg, Rachel waiting in line for her turn after. You looked like you were into it too. Are you that desperate for affection? Considering your Dear Aunty ate the kids, you're lucky we haven't kicked you to the curb. So shut up, do what your told, and try to stay out of the way before I get Rachel to subject you to a sexual harassment lecture using her rifle. "

Not giving him a chance to reply, she grabbed her quilting things and stomped off.

She'd been hiding long enough, she knew as she swallowed back the useless tears that wanted to escape, and it was time to go talk to Brittany.

She just had to put her quilting things away first.

---

The sun was out again. It sent heat radiating up from on top of the train car where Brittany was sitting. The heat felt like it was going through her core. She unzipped her coat as she gazed around their area. She frowned, then zipped it back up halfway.

It was her turn on watch.

160 feet away from the train, the road sat heavy with all sorts of vehicles.

She leaned back on her hands, staring all around trying to see everywhere at once.

She hurt. A lot.

Tiffany had been so young, and Brittany had only had mere days with her before she was gone.

Beth was dead.

Quinn still didn't know; it had been 77 hours and Quinn was still mostly sleeping. She was just awake enough to pee, and drink water or have medicine forced into her without any awareness.

Nicholas….he had been her's and Santana's baby.

But maybe not.

She felt a sharp dart of pain when she thought about him, but it was nothing compared to the pain of losing her sister. His loss was the lost of something intangible.

Hope.

If he was really theirs, then shouldn't they have been able to keep him alive?

Maybe they weren't supposed to be parents.

Maybe there wasn't a point.

Maybe like the dinosaurs, people were meant to go extinct and they were too stupid to realize it.

Tina was checking everyone's injuries, and once she was done doing that she'd join Brittany on the roof.

They finish out Brittany's turn on watch, then Tina's turn.

"Brittany?" Santana's voice was low.

She'd been crying. Brittany could always tell.

Brittany leaned over the side of the train, and looked down at Santana.

She looked so small.

Brittany patted the metal roof next to her, and Santana smiled, but quickly reverted her features back to neutral; as if she remembered the smiling wasn't allowed.

That's silly, you can still smile.

If you had a reason.

Brittany didn't.

And she was pretty sure she wouldn't have a reason ever again.

In 2 minutes, 29 seconds Santana was sitting next to her, touching Brittany with every bit of her body she could.

They sat in silence for two minutes, before Santana said softly, "I'm sorry about Tiffany. I'm going to miss her."

"I know. Me too."

There was nothing else to say. Santana had said the exact same thing to Brittany 14 times now.

Another two minutes went by.

"I'm going to ask Sam to get me pregnant," Santana said even softer, "So we can have a baby again. We'll do better this time, and it'll be easier because I'll be able to nurse and-"

Brittany shook her head, and cut her off, "No, no. No. You don't really like boys, Sam's really sad, and another baby isn't going to solve or fix anything Santana."

"A baby would give you some hope again," Santana whispered, "I just want to see the light come back into your eyes."

Brittany wrapped an arm around Santana's waist, and pulled her close, "The world doesn't need another baby that's just going to die Santana. And…it means a lot that'd you'd offer to make a baby with Sam for me, even if it's a really dumb idea. I love you. You're my hope." She swallowed harshly, and leaned her forehead against Santana's. "Try your best too stay alive for me. And I'll do the same. That's…that's all we can do."

She hoped Santana didn't hear how hollow the words felt to Brittany.

---

"Three years Brittany." Santana licked her lips, "Promise me -in three years, we have a baby. We'll flip a coin to see who gets knocked up, and loot every kitchen supply store we can until we find a hundred turkey basters."

Offering to have sex with Sam to get a baby wasn't the best idea she'd ever had. She blamed Sebastian for putting it in her head.

But Brittany was actually talking now, so maybe it wasn't the worst.

Santana would have gone through with it, if Brittany had wanted her too. She would have. Even if it meant having sex with Sam if they couldn't find a turkey baster or whatever. She'd had sex with guys before, and as long as she told herself it was for Brittany she could get through anything. Even if being pregnant was going to mess up her body in a hundred different ways, not to mention the added danger.

Anything for Brittany -anything to put the life that had drained from Brittany back into her, even if it meant putting life in Santana's womb.

"San…" Brittany whispered her name, and instead of answering, kissed her.

Three years had never felt like such a long time away.

Santana finally pulled back from the kiss, and was about to demand Brittany answer her, when they heard it.

A helicopter.

Before either girl could say a word, a low flying helicopter came into view.

It must have saw them as well, because….because it landed maybe half a mile away.

Santana cursed in Spanish as she stood up, and headed to the roof hatch.

"Two people are leaving the helicopter," Brittany called, standing up as Santana was climbing down.

"We're gonna have to leave, like right now," Santana gasped out as soon as she was on solid ground again, inside the train.

"Do the people in the helicopter look dangerous?" Blaine asked, pausing his quiet conversation with Sebastian.

"Dunno. Didn't see them. Britt's did -there's two. But I do know the noise is going to call every zombie from all over, instead of the steady stream we've been handling," Santana spat out, already starting to gather her and Brittany's things.

They didn't need to pack up Tiffany's stuff.

That thought struck her, and sent a pang of pain through her.

She'd take Queenie. Brittany would want the stuffed unicorn.

She didn't know if there was anything they should take that belonged to Nicolas. Or even if they wanted to. Maybe one of the blankets knitted for him. She grabbed it, and wrapped it around Queenie.

"Anyone see Lord Tubbington?" She called out as she started stuffing things into bags.

"Santana," Sarah said quietly, "he's under our seat."

"Santana is correct. Start gathering your things to leave; We have to prioritize food and water as well," Rachel stood up, leaving Sarah and Bacon huddled alone on the train seat, "Quinn will have to be once more jerry rigged."

"And where exactly are we going to go?" Terri asked, "Are we going to stick to our original plan or somewhere else?"

"I feel as though finding the military -whatever is left of them, is the most sound plan," Rachel sighed tiredly.

"They found us," Brittany said quietly, "They want to fly us to Chicago." She stood in the train car door, a man next to her. A few feet behind them, a woman -girl, really, kept watch.

---

"I'm Captain Abrams," the main said evenly once they were all clearly paying attention, "And that's my companion Kitty. On behalf of the United States of America, God bless her soul, I am here to inform you that any man, women, and children 10 years through 75 are hereby being conscripted."

"Bullshit. " Santana spat, eyes blazing with anger, "You can't just come to where we're trying to survive and say, 'hey, ur in the army now'. None of us are going to go off fighting zombies to keep some fat politicians safe in their bunkers while we die to get them cigars or shit."

"Officially, miss, there is no army or navy or any other form of military. We are technically a militia," the man said, "And what politicians are left? They're fighting as well. Of course there will be pay," he added with a tired sigh.

"Pay? Money's kinds useless," Sebastian pointed out smoothly, stepping closer to Blaine.

He shook his head, "Your pay will be medical supplies, access to a doctor, food, water, and a safe place to sleep. I'm sure by now you are aware of the ETs."

"What do you know about the aliens," Rachel asked with a frown. Santana figured one wrong word from this guy, and Rachel would go for her rifle.

Santana didn't know if she agreed with that.

On the one hand, they really couldn't trust strangers. On the other, they were pretty much out of options and super hopeless at this point.

"We know the zombie mutations caused from their technology, as well as the zombies themselves. And we know that the population of the world has been decimated, and that they've been showing up in major metropolis areas gathering metal and draining water supplies; the island of Manhattan is, from what our eyes nearby say, a no human zone that's swarming with those things. We think they set the zombies on us to several weaken any resistance. We also know that the zombies seem to have a homing towards previously well hidden survivors, and if contact is longer than roughly a minute with them, the ETs are called, arrive, and kill via what can be best described as lasers."

"And where," Rachel moved to stand next to Quinn's prone form protectively, "Do you wish to take us?"

"A town outside Chicago. We've set up base at a Wal-Mart distribution center. It'll be roughly a three hour flight. I'll give you ten minutes to gather your things," Captain Abrams replied.

"What about our supplies?" Blaine asked, "We have a fair amount of food and other things that it'd be a shame to leave behind."

"We can take it all with us."

"There's more, a few miles down the road," Sam said quietly, "In our bus and truck. And we've got chickens." Santana was ready to cook 'em all, but Sam was still holding out hope that they'd be less sickly with some sunshine and safety.

"Hmm. Well, we can take most of you now, leave a couple, come back with a cage that'll hang down from the bottom of the helicopter, load it up with supplies and the chickens. No matter how big the warehouses are, and they're huge, and there's other warehouses in the area, we could always use more."

"I'll stay." Sam said immediately.

"Me too," Blaine shot Sam a half smile, and Sam nodded at him.

Santana wanted to stay with them, but she didn't want to be apart from Brittany. Brittany squeezed her hand, and smiled at her.

When Santana still didn't offer, Brittany nodded slightly.

Frowning, Santana said, "I'll stay."

"So will I," Sebastian purred. Santana just barely resisted her urge to roll her eyes.

Rachel looked like she was torn between humping Sebastian's leg and shooting Abrams to steal his helicopter.

"How do we know you are who you say you are, and this isn't a trap?" Good for Rachel for asking first, instead of shooting. Santana was proud of the hobbit.

"You don't. All I can tell you, miss, is that there's enough of us that are trying to make a go of things, do what we can to protect ourselves, our country, our planet. Kitty's only sixteen, and she's lost everyone but my son who's waiting for me at the base, just lost his mother, damn near lost him. You've got seven minutes to decide, gather your things, and come with me. Or not."

"Is..." Sam said quietly "Is your son's name Artie?"

Abrams turned his tired eyes to Sam and stared at him, "Now how the hell did you know that?"

"We're originally from Lima," Rachel said in an excitable gasp, "Naturally I knew Artie's last name was Abrams, but I did not assume you were his father because the chances of that are so slim. " She sounded, for a moment, like the old Rachel. At least until she added, "I see a bit of a resemblance, but if you happen to have a photo of him on your person that will cement it, and we shall go with you."

He did, and they did.

And soon, Santana, Sam, Blaine, and Sebastian were watching the helicopter fly up and away.

As soon as it was out of sight, Santana turned to Sam and grinned, "Alright, let's follow Rachel's orders now, get it over with."

"Orders?" Blaine asked.

"Why is she in charge, anyway?" Sebastian asked, "I mean, she's not doing a bad job, but given the Warbler's files on the New Directions, she's not who I would have bet money would be leading us right now."

Ignoring Sebastian, Santana nodded, "Yeah. She's uncomfortable with how she falls into Sebastian's eyes, thinks he affects her leadership, so we have to kill him."

Blaine opened his mouth. Then slowly turned to Sebastian, sadly whispering, "I'm sorry Sebastian."

"Wha..." Sebastian stumbling away from them, the carefree smirk that was usually on his face was gone as he groped for the baseball bat he'd left on the ground.

"Santana, that's not funny." Sam said, "Rachel doesn't want us to kill anyone Sebastian. It's okay Blaine."

Santana shrugged, "It was kinda funny."

"If you're a sociopath," Sebastian spat, glaring at her.

"Santana, maybe you should go somewhere else for a while," Sam sighed.

"You were ready to kill me," Sebastian turned to glare at Blaine, "because you thought Rachel wanted you too? Seriously?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Whatever." She didn't hear Blaine's reply as she walked away.

---

Santana threw a rock off the top of the bus -the helicopter was meeting them there instead of the train, and sighed. She'd given all her stuff to Brittany to take with her, and now she had nothing to do but watch for zombies and wonder if Sam or Blaine were mad at her.

Not that she cared if they were, she thought grimly as she tossed another rock at a tree, where it bounced harmlessly off the bark into mud. Nope. She didn't care at all.

Sighing, she shoved the small piles of rocks off the roof. She may as well go talk to them.

...maybe even apologize to Sebastian.

She was pretty sure being a bitch was just ingrained in her, even if it was the zombie alien apocalypse.

"Santana?" Sam called quietly up to her. She got onto her stomach, and pulled herself over the side of the bus to look over at him.

"Hi."

He just stared at her.

She sighed, "I'm a bitch. I'm sorry."

"You can't keep doing awful things, saying awful things, then prefacing your apologies with 'I'm a bitch'. You should apologize to Sebastian, and maybe Blaine too."

"Why Blaine?"

Sam shrugged, "Not right now, but eventually...they're probably going to be a thing. Or almost a thing."

Santana scowled, "Sebastian flirts with anyone that moves. Blaine deserves someone who...isn't him."

Sam shrugged again, "I don't think it's on Blaine's radar right now, but I've noticed Sebastian is different with him. Softer? Who knows what's going to happen there. Maybe I'm just imaging it, I dunno. Reminds me of you with Brittany though." He leaned against the side of the bus, looking up at her.

"How are you doing?" Santana said after a moment.

"Crappy. I was..I was thinking about heading towards Kentucky, see if I could find any of my family members still over there..."

Pain gripped her, "You can't leave us Sam. We need you. I need you," she whispered, digging her nails into the palms of her clinched fists to stop herself from crying.

He shook his head, "I was only thinking about it...but now...with..."

She relaxed, "Yeah, military. Or militia. Whatever."

"Not just that..." he sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, "Tina's pregnant."

"What." Santana had no words, before she said in a tight whisper, "Was it...June's cult? Did they...?" Rage went through her, and June was lucky she was on the helicopter with the rest of them, because Santana would have hurt the woman right now if she saw her.

"No, no. Brittany would have told you, I'm sure. Tina was pregnant before they were kidnapped. My baby, not Mike's...that night in the school? We...well, we thought we were going to die and...yeah..." he stared off down the road, "I don't love her, well, I mean, I love her like I love the rest of you. I'm not in love with her. But I just couldn't leave her to deal with this alone, and leave the rest of you either, for family that might or might now be there. I just...I dunno, needed a reason to wake up in the morning. Now I've got it, and it terrifies me."

"I..." Santana didn't even know what to say. The rage faded from her.

She kinda missed it; it was a better emotion then the ones she'd been feeling lately. It made her feel like herself. The old self.

"I'm not going to make you promise anything Santana. I know you'll do the best you can, just like we have been doing." He slid down the side of the bus, coming to rest up against a tire. He pulled his legs up, and wrapped his arms around his knees. The look on his face, the scruff, his bent nose -he looked older.

She supposed the all did.

She rested her forehead on the cold metal of the bus roof as she processed the fact that Tina was pregnant with Sam's baby.

"If she was pregnant when...do you think her time with June's cult hurt the baby?" She couldn't stop herself from asking him. Her voice was muffled slightly by the metal.

"I don't know. It's going to be...hard enough without..." Sam replied, sighing again. Santana knew a baby was heartbreaking enough, but one with...problems? That was...that was something else.

Another long silence -the ghosts of the children, of everyone, they'd already lost were present, and if felt like they were all pushing down on Santana.

"Clark for a boy, Diana for a girl," Santana finally said, lifting her head up and looking down at Sam again.

He looked up at her, a smile on his face, "I'll suggest it her. Or maybe Marvel names. She's not...she's not really talking about it, or planning, or anything but..." he trailed off.

There was a pregnant pause, before Santana gave a crazy little giggle, "God, I hope I'm there when you two tell Rachel."

That got a short barking laugh out of Sam. "I don't think her reaction is going to be that bad now. If it was still just us though..."

"I'll apologize to Sebastian," Santana sighed.

"Okay. Hey, remind me before we leave to grab Artie's glasses from the truck's glove box?"

"You've still got those?" Sam had off handedly mentioned he somehow had a spare pair of Artie's glasses at one point, but Santana hadn't thought about them in a while. Or Artie, for that matter.

"Yeah, I didn't know what to do with them so I left them in Puck's truck, safe in the glove box," he let out a short laugh, "I didn't think I'd see Artie again, but I couldn't just throw them away or leave them behind."

"I'll remind you but you gotta remind me to grab that picture from the visor Puck kept up there. Pretty sure Sarah forgot all about it, but I bet she'd like to have it." Santana carefully climbed off the roof of the bus. "I think...I think I'm going to put some flowers if I can find any, or more rocks or something on the graves," she said softly once she was standing on solid ground next to Sam.

He nodded solemnly, and stood up. Silently, they walked to the graves together.

---

The entire helicopter ride, Rachel sat in-between Quinn's fitfully sleeping form, and Sarah. The younger girl clutched Bacon to herself tightly, at first staring around the helicopter in wide eyed wonder, before finally tucking herself and the poodle into Rachel's side. Rachel wondered if the noise and movement added to Quinn's already restless sleep.

Stepping off the helicopter, holding Sarah's hand, had been, she imagined, feeling like the first person to step onto the moon.

There was a bustle of activity as that girl -Kitty, shouldered her way past them to hop off the helicopter first. The pilot -Rachel hadn't caught his name, and Captain Abrams helped them off. They hovered around as Captain Abrams and the pilot gently carried Quinn off and set her down on the ground next to them.

Kitty was talking to Artie. Rachel lightly tapped Tina, then Brittany, nodded to him. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and Rachel surmised that he likely couldn't see who they were.

"Artie?" Tina called out.

"Tina?"

"Yup. Me and Rachel are here too Artie!" Brittany called out.

He opened up his arms, "What are you girls waiting for, give me a hug. Rachel, you too. I never thought I'd see any of you again."

After Artie had hugged each of them tightly, and reintroduced them to his girlfriend (who looked, Rachel thought, like she smelled something bad. Which wasn't a surprise, but Kitty didn't need to be so rude about it given the situation,) he nodded at Quinn's form.

"Who's that? And is she...okay?"

"It's Quinn. And given that she is unaware that Beth is dead, and is recovering from being bitten, no." Rachel said primly.

"Well, at least she's immune...that's gotta count for something."

"Perhaps."

"Who's Beth?" Kitty asked brashly.

"Her daughter," Tina sighed.

Kitty sniffed loudly, obviously disapproving of teenage motherhood.

Rachel stared at the blonde girl, and said evenly, "I don't care what you think; she might. If you dare so much as look in her general direction meanly, or make her feel bad or guilty or anything at all, I will kill you."

"Whoa, hold up Rachel. Damn. No killing. Kitty will be nice, won't you Kitty? I don't even..." Artie held up his hands.

"Hmf. Of course I will," Kitty said curtly.

"Rachel once sent a girl to a crack house because she didn't want the singing competition in our glee club," Tina said idly with a shrug at Artie.

"And I agree with her, if you make Quinn feel bad about Beth or anything, I'll sic Lord Tubbington on you. He'll poop in your shoes and on your face while you're sleeping." Brittany made a clucking noise with her tongue, and Lord Tubbington got up from where he'd been sitting next to Quinn's sleeping form. He stalked the ten or so feet to them, and sat down at Brittany's feet, staring stonily at Kitty.

"Hey Tubbington. You're alive. Wow. Um, I'm guessing you guys have had a time of it. So after you get your bunks, and clean up, maybe we should eat and talk?" Artie suggested.

"How about we let you, Sam, and Blaine hang out later, and then tomorrow we all will?" Tina suggested softly.

"Sam and Blaine are alive too?" Artie grinned. "This is way better than I ever hoped for. I'm so glad you guys are alive."

"And we're glad you're alive," Tina replied. Brittany added in her agreements.

Rachel stepped forward, already deciding that she'd left Sarah and Quinn alone too long. Terri, Sludge, and Violeta had been awkwardly standing waiting for the person Captain Abrams had said would show them around and get them set up, and Rachel could easily read how uncomfortable Terri was next to the couple. She made a mental note to try to include Terri more -the woman had no one now.

"I am, of course, glad you are alive as well Artie," she muttered, not pausing in her walk forward.

She hated the fact that was all she could think about as she walked away from them towards the others, was that should the worse happen, Artie would be more of a liability then an asset to a group.

She swallowed those feelings away, and put on a simple smile for Sarah. Even after all this, she was still an amazing actress.

---

She cracked her eyes open slowly, and stared at the billowy ceiling above her.

She had no idea where she was.

She was just about to sit up, and open her eyes fully when she realized she could hear voices.

Santana and Rachel.

"I'm telling you, Sebastian is slimy." Santana growled out, "And bullshit you do not have three fives."

Rustling noises, "I do as you can see. Please take the considerable pile of cards. And I am telling you, Santana, that Blaine is allowed to see whom he wishes. Kurt would want him to steal the happy moments he can."

"It isn't even about Kurt -it's about Dahlia. Blaine's traumatized from her death. Hell, we are all; that's why jumping feet first into something like this is a bad idea." Santana grumbled under her breath in Spanish, then said "One six."

"Two sevens. And forgive me, but were or were you not the one whom offered to allow Sam to impregnate you if Brittany so wished?"

"How the hell did you -Tina, right? Ugh. Three eights."

"Three nines. And yes, Brittany told Tina whom told me."

"Two tens. That was extenuating circumstances okay? Like you wouldn't offer the same thing to Quinn."

"Well, no. I would not. As much as I love Quinn, it is…" Rachel sighed, and trailed off, "I do not believe it would help her, or any of us if -"

"Dahlia died? How? I killed the zombies…but then I..." Quinn croaked out. Her throat and mouth felt dryer then the desert, "…where are we?"

"Oh Quinn. You are awake," Rachel slid back in her chair.

"Wal-Mart Distribution Center with the military outside Chicago. They commandeered it." Santana said, putting a metal cup of water up to Quinn's mouth.

Quinn drank greedily.

"Well, given that only 30% of anyone here is actually military, I believe it is technically more of a militia." Rachel sighed, staring at Quinn intently.

"I'm gonna go tell the others Quinn's awake," Santana said once the glass was empty. Before Quinn could say a word, Santana was gone, leaving Rachel glaring at Santana's retreating form.

"Quinn…you killed them all, yes. There were…there is no easy way to say it, but there was a UFO that attacked us as well while you were killing the zombies. It distracted you, and you were bitten," Rachel gently put her hand on Quinn's bandaged arm, "Thankfully, you are of the blood type that is immune. For the most part." Rachel sighed again, "We lost Theresa, Abby, Tiffany, Stevie, Faith and Marigold to the UFO. We all sustained various injuries from it as well…."

It took Quinn a moment to process Rachel's words, "What happened to Dahlia?"

Quinn listened intently as Rachel explained what happened after Quinn had been bitten -by the time Rachel finished with, "Quinn I am so very sorry. If she had not had her burn injuries, Beth would still be alive as she was immune as well. But all of it, together, was just too much for her little body to take. I am so so sorry," and she wiped away tears, and wrapping her arms around herself.

Quinn felt empty.

"Do you wish to be alone?"

Quinn looked Rachel in the eyes. She remembered how it was in the town when she thought Beth was dead.

She had wanted to die -had even tried to get Rachel to shoot her.

"Do you think if I hadn't killed Shelby, Beth would be alive right now?" Quinn whispered.

Instead of answering an immediate, "Don't be silly Quinn," Rachel cocked her head to the side, and thought for a moment. "I believe it would be unlikely Beth's chance of survival would have been higher with Shelby over us, Quinn."

"She wasn't even two years old yet. I…I gave her away because I thought she'd grow up and have an amazing life if she wasn't stuck with a teenage mother. I thought we'd both grow up and be happy if we weren't together; we'd both have a chance. And…it was for no reason. It would have been so much easier if I had kept her, because it's not like I would have ended up trying to juggle college and a baby," Quinn said in a rush, her voice heavy. She closed her eyes, tears streaming from her face, "I would have been able to protect her better, have kept her alive, if I hadn't given her away. I would have been a better mother."

"Quinn…" Rachel gently brushed away Quinn's tears, "You don't know that. If we are going to play the 'what if game' one could just as easily say that you would have picked up Beth from daycare that first day and both of you would have been devoured by undead toddlers."

Despite herself, Quinn let out a half laugh, half sob, and opened her eyes, "Stay with me?"

"Of course."

Rachel started to pull one of the chairs towards the bed, but Quinn shook her head, and with her uninjured arm, patted next to her.

Rachel crawled in the bed, and under the covers with her, curling up protectively around Quinn.

Then, Quinn finally allowed herself to stop holding back her sobs.

After a moment, Quinn was dimly aware that Rachel joined her in crying.

---

Santana swiftly exited the small tent that served as a patient room. It, and half a dozen others were clustered around the giant army tent that served as the medical area.

She went inside to tell the doctor Quinn was awake and talking and stuff.

"I'm telling you, none of you can keep pushing yourself this hard," Dr. Allen muttered to a uniformed man Santana didn't know as Santana walked up to them.

"Quinn's awake."

"That's lovely dear, I'll go check on her after I'm done with this numbskull," Dr Allen muttered.

"There's a fucking ten year old that's training to fight these things Doc, how can we not push ourselves? I'll be fine." The guy said, his voice a little choked up.

Santana grimaced.

That ten year old was Sarah.

"Do you know what the long term effects of sleep deprivation is?" The doctors voice became quieter the further Santana walked away.

She needed to go find the others, give Quinn and Rachel some time to talk.

Rachel was going to puff her feathers and bitch at Santana for not sticking around and leaving Rachel to tell Quinn by herself, but whatever. Santana would be there for Quinn, and help her cope as best Santana can, but right now she needed to go tell the others and give them time.

The warehouse's that made up their new home were over half a mile long each. There were two, and in between them the gravel truck loading areas and the bits of grass had been turned into plant beds using lumber, dirt, seeds and plants all mostly found in the warehouse or some of the other warehouses surrounding them.

Santana was of the opinion they should have gone here, or at least one in Ohio, instead of the cabin in the first place.

The rest of the giant property had been fenced in (also with materials found in the warehouses) then a larger fence outside that made up of cars and semi's.

It was pretty damn safe.

They got their water from a well powered by a propane generator. It was heavily rationed, just like the food.

Santana figured everyone could live here for a while just by what was stockpiled.

Really, the only downside is that, due to the freaking aliens, every person over the age of ten was given a gun, trained, and sent out to kill zombies or E.T.

Which included Sarah despite Santana and Rachel's protests that she wasn't ten for another few weeks.

They'd only been here a week, so they hadn't gone out yet. They were still being trained.

Apparently the group had been hit with heavy casualties the last couple of months.

That might not have required them arming and training kids, but the fact that they'd lost contact with almost all but four other group of survivors meant shit had really hit the fan.

The military people were just leftovers from military bases and groups from nearby areas who had survived long enough to get to or been taken here; the leader of the group was a retired Marine, Vince Reynolds, who had apparently fled an army base himself he'd gone to be with his daughter who was stationed there and keep an eye on his granddaughter.

She was here too, but Santana hadn't met her yet.

Had met her seventeen year old though; didn't like her much. Keira was just too damn peppy and happy; you could tell she hadn't lost more than a few friends, and hadn't seen the horrors most of them did. And she totally had a crush on Sam. And Sebastian. And, hell, Rachel of all people. Santana felt a decade older than the other girl instead of barely a year.

---

They were sharing a giant army tent, just them. They even had mattresses from some far corner of a warehouse, so it wasn't that bad even if it was a little cold most of the time.

But it wasn't like sweaters weren't readily available so whatever. If winter actually hit with snow and everything, they'd figure something out. But spring should be coming soon, real spring not this pretender crap, hopefully.

"I miss cheese the most," Blaine was sighing as she came up to where he was talking to Keira.

"I miss milk," Keira said, smiling at him.

It really made Santana want to barf.

Terri, who was sharpening a knife at a fold up table a few feet away from the pair, looked like she wanted to jam it into Keira's eye.

"Well, duh. We can just milk Terri. I bet we can make cheese too," Santana drawled as she walked towards them.

Keira made a disgusted face, as Terri paused in her knife sharpening. Primly, not looking at Santana, she replied, "My milk has dried up."

Oh. Of course it has, considering Terri's baby was dead, so was any other child young enough to breastfeed, and Sarah was the youngest kid here.

Santana should have freaking realized that.

She had just wanted to gross out Keira.

"I'm sorry Terri."

Terri resumed sharpening her knife, pausing for a second to look up at Santana, "I imagine breast milk cheese would taste rather sweet, and the calorie output into making it wouldn't be worth it anyway," then she resumed sharpening, a ghost of a bitter smile at the corners of her mouth.

As a rule Santana never regretted what she said to anyone -she didn't have time for that. And she wasn't exactly close to Terri or anything. But she understood Terri, even as she knew that Santana's experience was no where what Terri was going through; Santana & Brittany had barely had time to hold their baby, while Terri had carried her's for nine months, then kept her alive for almost half that time.

She took a deep breath, and turned back to Blaine, "Quinn's awake. Help me spread the word."

He nodded, "Sam, Tina, and Brittany are walking the fence if you want to go tell them. I'll talk to Sebastian and the others?"

"I'll go with you," Keira chirped out, beaming at him as he nodded.

"Yeah. Try not to get sucked into Ferret face's mouth before you tell everyone," Santana said rolling her eyes.

"Keira can you go on ahead? I need to talk to Santana," Blaine said quietly.

Keira looked between them, nervously rubbing a piece of her short cropped black hair between her fingers, then nodded and took off.

"You don't like me and Sebastian…having sex." He said point blank once Keira was out of ear shot, blushing.

"He's taking advantage of your trauma," Santana mumbled, "And he flirts with anything that looks at him, guy girl or zombie."

Blaine shook his head, "You just don't understand him Santana. Which is funny, because you two are really a lot alike. Where you cover your feelings with snark, he does with snark and flirting. I think you two could be friends if you ease up a bit and give him a chance..."

She sighed, "I just…I..Kurt's death…I can still see it every time I close my eyes."

"I loved Kurt you know. I did. And I miss him so so much….he and Sebastian are basically nothing alike, and that helps a lot. It's not like Sebastian's my only choice here, which helps...and we're not getting married or are even serious or anything. Sebastian was pretty clear that he doesn't do serious." There was three other gay guys and two other lesbians at the warehouse. Rachel had babbled on about statistics when they found that out.

"Kurt wouldn't have wanted you to be alone. Granted, I'm sure he'd rather you date a zombie then Sebastian Smythe," but….I mean, this isn't a 'only other living gay within 1000 miles' situation, soo…." Santana grudgingly admitted making Blaine laugh weakly, and she continued, "But as long as you're…not happy, but at least okay? Then we're okay."

"We're not dating. I'm not ready for that. We've had sex once Santana, and who knows if we will again. But thank you, it means a lot that you are all accepting of Sebastian…you are my family."

"You're going to hug me, aren't you?" Santana sighed again.

"Yes."

And he did.

She hugged him back, pulling away when Lin approached them. Lin hadn't been hanging around with their group much; there was a Chinese family at the warehouse (an army private, her parents, and a cousin) so understandably Lin spent a lot of time with them. Santana didn't blame her, it was nice to be with people who looked like you. Not that Santana had made much effort to spend time with Violeta with everything that had been going on, and with waiting for Quinn to wake up. But if they had a stress free (relatively) time Santana would have made it her mission to be friends with Violeta. She liked Shawn, stands to reason she'd like his wife if she had the time to get to know the other woman.

Lin chattered excitedly to Blaine, and he answered her back with a smile. Lin then turned and said carefully, "Hel low San".

Santana smiled encouragingly, and nodded, "Hello Lin."

Lin grinned at her, then turned back to Blaine and chattered to him. Once she was done, and Blaine answered her, he turned apologetically to Santana, "Mrs. Zhou wants me to swing by their tent really quickly. It's on the way? But I can wait and do it later?"

"Nah, go. Rachel and Quinn are talking right now anyway, reunion can wait a few minutes," Santana drawled, "I'm going to go talk to Sarah first anyway."

Blaine nodded, "She's in the tent reading."

"K. Thanks. See you in fifteen, don't forget to get Artie," she leaned over and gave him another hug, then Lin too because the woman looked like she was going to hug Santana anyway. "You too Terri," she added, and Terri nodded at her.

---

"Hey Sarah," Santana ruffled Sarah's hair.

She'd stopped calling the kid by any nickname, except occasionally "Sarita," when she was trying to teach her Spanish.

Nicknames felt too frivolous now. Well, she wasn't going to stop calling Sebastian 'ferret face' because not only did it annoy him, but also Blaine and Rachel.

"Quinn's awake."

Sarah set down her book and stared at Santana wide eyed, "Really?" she squeaked out quietly, a frown marring her face, "Do you think…" she whispered, "Quinn's going to hate me?"

Santana sat down next to her, "Why would Quinn hate you? She loves you. We all do."

"Because…I'm alive and Beth isn't."

"Do you think Brittany hates you?" Santana asked.

Sarah shook her head so fast Santana was surprised the younger girl didn't get whip lash, "No. I don't think Brittany could hate anyone. But Quinn's…she's not like Brittany," Sarah obviously didn't know how to put into words the differences between Quinn and Brittany. Santana understood her, and was pretty sure she couldn't put the difference into words either…or at least not in child friendly words.

Santana knew damn well that Brittany can and did hate, could hold a grudge, that she wasn't -especially now, the dim beam of sunshine without a mean bone in her body that most thought she was... but she wasn't going to tell Sarah that. Let her have her innocence and belief in others for as long as she could.

"Do you think she'll be mad I wasn't there to save Beth?" Sarah asked after a moment's silence.

"No." Santana frowned, and bonked Sarah's forehead with her own gently, then pulled back and looked at Sarah, face grave with seriousness, "I think Quinn will be glad you're alive, and really sad about the others. She's going to be super sad about Beth, but there's no way she's going to blame you or be angry you're alive."

"Is it okay if I wait a while to see her? Just in case?"

"If that's what you want, she'll understand."

"Okay."

Knowing Quinn, she'd only blame herself.

---

"Ten pushups," Linwood barked, "Only two for you sweetheart," he added to Sarah.

Rachel was utterly incensed they insisted that Sarah participate in their militia. She slowly and carefully did her pushups, a frown on her face.

Thus far, attempting to speak to the man in charge, Vince Remolds, had yet to prove fruitful.

Rachel had every confidence that, once she managed to get his attention, she would be able to convince him that Sarah was far too young to hold a gun and deal with zombies…let alone aliens.

Yesterday Rachel had gotten a lucky shot during a routine shooting training, and brought down one of the spheres should turn things into her favor.

It had landed on a car with a defining crash, and thus they hadn't been able to do more than stare incredulously at it before being forced to flee the area because the noise from the crash would attract even more zombies then they had been previously dealing with. Naturally, it had been miles away from the base, since of course they wouldn't fire off so many weapons near it.

She finished her pushups, and sat primly and a bit smugly as she watched Santana, arms wobbly, struggle to finish hers.

"Linwood," she said once the man finished telling Sarah what a great job she'd done, "Do you know what the team found out about the sphere I shot down?"

"No team has been sent out," he said simply.

"Seriously? Why?" Terri spat out. She stopped mid push up to look up and frown at Linwood, gritting her teeth.

"Don't we need to understand the aliens so we can defeat them?" Sam said quietly from where he was sitting against the wall, waiting for everyone to finish. He'd been the first, Sebastian a few pushups behind him.

"Finish up," he barked, then added when Rachel glared at him, "Vince decided that it wasn't worth the risk; we don't know if they track the UFOs, or if they're rigged to explode. We're low on numbers already, we just can't risk it," he gestured to Sarah to make his point, "Up, now we run, then it's melee."

Rachel narrowed her eyes, and glared at Linwood. The risk, if there was actually a risk, of studying one of the UFO's was far outweighed by what they could possibly find out.

She would just have to do it by herself as best she could by herself, perhaps finding a book first would be helpful. She was by no means an expert in science or any such thing.

It would keep her mind off the fact that Quinn was still in the medical ward, despite, according to the doctor, being well enough to leave in body.

It was her spirit that needed healing.

Not even seeing Artie had raised her spirits enough to get out of bed. Rachel feared that the administration would soon force the issue; they seemed to be sympathetic right now, but if Quinn wasn't actively participating soon who knows what they would do. They didn't even need her to test her immune blood -for one, they didn't have the scientific lab area needed, and for another, there were half a dozen other immune here already.

---

"We will return by dark," Rachel said for perhaps the fifth time to the people gathered around them.

Sludge shared a look with his wife, and said, also for the fifth time, "I still think I should go with you."

"If you had any skills as a scientist, then of course. But you do not, so you must remain here," Rachel said patiently.

"I have skills fighting, shooting, and as good as you are with that rifle, you don't know what you two are gonna find near that thing." Sludge clinched his jaw, and stared stonily at Rachel using, she assumed, his full force policeman stare.

She almost withered under it, almost gave in, but she caught eyes with Santana. Santana smirked at her. Clearly, the Latina girl expected Rachel to give in.

Rachel took a deep breath, set her shoulder's back, and gave Sludge her own withering glare. "No. That's final."

Sarah sniffled a bit, clearly trying not to cry, "Rachel maybe you could take someone else? Remember, there's supposed to be three people when we -you, go out on runs? That's been the rule for a while hasn't it?"

"Sarah's right. Three people," Santana drawled, "Just in case. Remember?"

Rachel let out a frustrated breath. She had initially only planned on herself and Terri, simply because it would be quicker and easier for two people to slip in and out, and they shared the same duty rotations.

"So I'm gonna go," Sludge bit out.

"No. I selected Terri because we have the same duty rotation today. You do not. The only other person is..." Rachel sighed, "June. So perhaps we should take Bacon instead, he, at least, is useful. Or Lord Tubbington."

"I can carry things, and I'm learning to fight," June said softly, looking down at the ground, thick blue hair falling forward to hide her face.

Despite sharing a tent with her, Rachel had not seen much of June lately. Frankly, she had hoped that would continue...she hadn't even intended for June to be present at this meeting, but someone must have told her, or perhaps she'd simply woken up and joined it.

"Artie would be more useful," Rachel snapped at her, then took a deep breath and looked around at the group gathered in their tent, taking a sip of her coffee. It was early morning -the sun wasn't quite up yet, and clearly Rachel needed to get control of her emotions. "Terri and I shall be fine. We are simply going to go, establish if the remains are explosive or not, gather samples, and return. Hopefully that will be enough for an actual team to be sent, and perhaps even samples sent to Iceland."

Iceland was the home of one of the safe zones. They had scientists. And no zombies.

They were working in conjunction with the other groups of survivors to figure out how to evacuate to Iceland in time for the best weather there -even if, just like here, weather was off a bit, they insisted late May or early June would be best.

The risks of attempting such a flight...Rachel did not dare allow herself to hope they would all be safe in Iceland. Nor did she give into the bitterness that threatened to engulf her...she did not allow herself to think about how things would have changed if they had Iceland as a goal months and months ago.

It would be a nineteen hour flight. There was one helicopter, and due to the length of the trip they didn't dare cram it full of people. It would take many many trips to evacuate just everyone from the warehouse, and there was a good chance it would take up the entire four or so weeks the Icelanders said would be the best time just taking their people over, let alone any of the other survivor groups they were in contact with. They would need a lot of fuel. Or perhaps an airplane, but airports were jam packed with zombies. Maybe a ship.

There were so many logistics to consider that Rachel was glad she was not in charge of figuring it all out.

"Take June. She's not going to learn if we don't give her a chance," Santana cocked her head, and smirked at Rachel.

Rachel grit her teeth. "Very well," she bit out.

Santana grinned at her.

---

They walked in silence for most of the trip to the crash site. It was on their first, quick break, that June finally spoke to Terri, obviously realizing that Rachel wanted nothing to do with her.

"Do you ever wonder how things would have changed if your husband was with you? I do." June tentatively asked. Rachel snorted quietly to herself, obviously June was reaching for anything they had in common.

Terri took a swing of coffee from her thermos, then said, "We divorced, so no."

"Divorced...oh." June had nothing to say to that. Because of course, she was simply to enriched in her cult to have gotten a divorce.

"But if Will were here...I would like to think that he would have stepped up and been the person we needed when we needed him. But...and I loved him so much at one point, but he...sometimes he let you down," Terri continued carefully after a moment. She sighed, "I certainly was not a good person most of our marriage, but even then..." she trailed off. Finally, she shrugged, "What do you think Rachel?"

Rachel licked her lips, and triple checked their area to ensure they were alone, for now, replied "I think Mr. Schue meant well."

She recalled for a second, with vivid clarity, a moment in the early days of the glee club before Quinn and the others had joined.

Mr. Schue had watched Puck and Santana slushy her, simply frowned at them. Rachel had, struggling not to give the pair the satisfaction of crying, tried to kick at Puck. She had thought that the other New Directions -that Finn, would have had her back in case of retaliation so she had dared to try to fight back for once.

She'd missed Puck, instead slipping on slushy. They, and everyone else in the hall, had laughed at her.

Mr. Schue hadn't even helped her up.

Neither had Finn, who had just watched it all happen with a dough eyed helplessness.

Mr. Schue had allowed it to happen, he could have stepped in and stopped it all. So could the people that she thought would finally be her friends, but Tina had scurried away with Artie, Kurt had pointedly not looked at her, and Mercedes had a looked gleeful, like Rachel was getting what she deserved. Just because Rachel, who planned everything she was allowed to plan, got to sing more solos. It was selfish of Rachel, yes, but without her there wouldn't have been an actual glee club, Rachel had thought she needed it to get on Broadway, so she could forgive her younger self for thinking solos were her reward for the hard work she put into the Glee club -no one else worked as hard as she did.

Mr. Schue simply hadn't liked Rachel enough to help her. It seemed as if he had only really liked Finn, and treated them all accordingly to how Finn did.

To his credit, Mr. Schue had actually stopped Rachel being slushied outright a few times.

Only when she had been dating Finn, though.

Kurt, likewise, had gotten better treatment from Mr. Schue when he and Finn had become step brothers.

Mr. Schue played favorites, and sometimes forgot that he was supposed to be the teacher, the adult. He should have been the one to make everyone practice, to organize their meetings, to organize their fund raising efforts, to be responsible. Instead, he let Rachel handle all that, ignored her attempts to push him to make an updated set list months before competitions instead of weeks, wasted the funds Rachel had worked hard to earn for them (and on a few occasions, took money out of her own bank account to pay for items they needed) and allowed the other's in the club to bad mouth her.

She should have been his favorite, she realized bitterly.

Instead, when she wasn't dating Finn, he treated her like...like he didn't like her, but knew he needed to keep her around if they had any chance of winning anything, since she was the glue that held the club together.

"He meant well, but living vicariously through Finn did him no favors," she finally said, "He was a person, with faults, and it's impossible to say how things would have ended up had he been with us."

"Or if we were still married," Terri added softly, looking towards the way they would continue walking.

June shoved a piece of blue hair behind an ear, and sighed, "I think I know how things would have gone if my husband were here. Terribly."

She looked up, and at Rachel, "I know you don't like me. Pretty much none of you do. I...I was born there. I'm trying my best. This isn't easy, even with Anne's help. We couldn't talk much, she didn't have a chance to really...deprogram me. I'm sorry for who I am, for what my family did. I am. But I can't change the past. I can't. If...if I could, I would have taken my children, and fled my Family to somewhere safe. But there was no where safe, I had no skills, no money, nothing. And I...it didn't occur to me that I could have left. I was ignorant of the outside world."

Rachel could practically hear the capitalization of 'Family'.

"And...and...if I wasn't so fearful of the world, if had anywhere to go, anyone to help me..." June stumbled out..."I would have poisoned Mother and Father and my husband, then taken my children and left" she spat out. Tears were trailing down her face. She closed her eyes, and allowed them to fall.

"Hindsight is twenty twenty," Terri said gently, "We all have things we would have done differently, if given the chance." She sighed, no doubt thinking about what changes she would make.

Rachel was ashamed of herself. She had just been thinking about how she was bullied and friendless, and here she was...not bullying, not exactly, but she was cold and sometimes outright rude to this woman. June could not help her background, just like Rachel, and she was making an effort to change herself, to rise about her indoctrination. Sometimes she stumbled, but she was trying.

Rachel stood up, and swiftly sat down on the ground next to June. Tentatively, she patted the woman's back. Terri joined her, sitting on the woman's other side.

The trio sat together while June cried quietly for a few minutes, before Rachel looked at the cheap all weather men's sport watch she'd gotten from the 'take what you want' supply room. "We need to get moving," she said gently, standing up.

June nodded, and wiped away her tears.

Rachel helped them both stand up.

---

Terri slammed her crow bar through the zombies eye, then pulled it out awkwardly moving to the next one.

June hesitated a moment, before bringing her bat down on the skull of the zombie closest to her.

Rachel hacked and slashed with her own crowbar and Quinn's machete. Her movements weren't as fluid as she would have liked, she noted as she dared a quick glance at her watch, because she was clearly out of dance practice, but they were fluid enough that she was able to work both weapons at the same time with an efficient enough ease, dropping the three zombies that she had taken on as Terri finished with her second.

June finished her zombie, which was the final one, and Rachel put away her weapons.

If there were any more lurking, by now a U.F.O would have appeared.

"We are roughly a block away from the crash," she panted, "Where there's a few zombies, there will be more, so let us go, get what we need, and leave quickly?"

A few minutes later, Rachel nodded, and Terri tossed the rock. They were far away from the crash site that she was hopeful if it did explode because of the rock, they would be alright enough.

It hit with a loud ping that made her wince internally, but nothing else happened.

"Maybe it's only set to go off if there's a human around it," Rachel murmured. She set down her rifle, preparing to do something that she would likely be yelled at for, when June stood up from the car they'd been crutching behind.

Without a word to either of them, June ran towards the fallen U.F.O. She stood next to it for a moment, then kicked at it.

Nothing happened.

"It's okay," she called. Her eyes widened, and the pointed, "Zombies!"

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Rachel looked and sure enough a dozen zombies were approaching. Picking up her rifle, she stood up. "We'll hide behind the ship, and I'll shoot them. While I am doing so, you and June gather samples. Then we high tail it back. Perhaps in a vehicle if we can find a running one," she said coolly as she started jogging towards June, Terri a few feet behind her.

She set about getting into position as Terri relayed her orders to June.

She lifted the rifle to her shoulder, aimed, took a deep breath, and fired.

One zombie fell.

A thrill of satisfaction went through her as she aimed again. She was aware that in addition to the original dozen zombies, there were perhaps another two or three dozen coming.

She felt a little shaky as she looked at them, and required an additional breath before she fired again.

The bullet hit the zombie in the neck. It dropped, not permanently dead, but it was not coming towards them so she counted it, and moved swiftly to the next.

"Rachel, there's too many, we need to just go," Terri said, pulling her backpack on roughly.

"Did you gather any samples?" Rachel asked with a resigned sigh as she slung her rifle on, and turned towards them.

"A few. Hopefully it'll be enough?" Terri shrugged.

"There's more coming on this side," June said, the fear clear in her voice.

Rachel swallowed hard as she saw another three dozen zombies stumbling towards them from the back. At least that number.

She realized there was grinding noise, Terri did as well because she asked, "What's that noise?"

"Maybe someone is trying to distract the zombies so we can run away?" June asked hopefully.

"Perhaps..." Rachel clutched her backpack straps, biting her lip as she looked around them, going through their options. "No..." she whispered, then raised a shaking hand and pointed.

There was a zombie dragging a piece of metal pipe behind her -it. Rachel only knew it had been female before death because it was shirtless, and while one breast was gnawed away, the other was in perfect view. The rest of the zombie was grotesque, swollen and red, it's features totally unidentifiable.

This had been a foolish idea.

The apocalypse had thrust a greater responsibility on her shoulders, much greater then leading the Glee club or doing everything she could for an advantage for Broadway.

She was barely seventeen, and had been so full of herself that she had thought she knew better then the military personal and leader of the militia.

Instead, she had simply gotten the three of them killed.

Quinn was already teetering in a sharp edge, and Rachel knew that her death would send Quinn plunging.

So in truth, Rachel had gotten four of them killed.

The zombies seemed to sense her realization, and sped up.

And Rachel could do nothing. They had nowhere to run, no car to cower in.

They had nothing.

They were surrounded.

She closed her eyes, and dropped her backpack to the ground. "I'm sorry," she whispered. There wasn't even time to use the rifle to ensure they had a quick death.

They were going to be torn apart, and join the shambling hoards.

It was all her fault for thinking she knew better. For forgetting for all her intelligence, her natural maturity, her leadership, for the choices she has had to make, for the losses she'd suffered, that she was simply a seventeen year old girl.

"Rachel," June whispered, "Rachel, look."

She opened her eyes slowly, and caught Terri's gaze. The woman's harsh features were morphed into a look of confusion.

She dared to look at the hoard surrounding them.

Then she stared, frozen in place.

---

"Maybe you should have sent Lord Tubbington with them?" Santana frowned at the fancy watch she'd grabbed from the 'take what you want or need' supply room. It was taking Rachel, Terri and June longer than expected to get back. Santana was starting to feel a little concerned, and wished she'd goaded Rachel into taking Shawn instead of just being satisfied Rachel had agreed to take someone else besides her and Terri.

Brittany shook her head, and jabbed her long spear -the standard weapon used when walking the clobbered together fence, over the hood of a pink corvette into a snarling zombie's eye socket. "No, he's been off his game since Tiffany...since his tail was lost. And he really couldn't do much besides be a distraction anyway. I didn't think I'd have to train him to handle zombies."

"Maybe we could get him a job in the kitchen? Help him get his grove back."

"Maybe."

Santana sighed, and the silence was heavy until Tina joined them. She'd started to walk to the fence with her, but then excused herself to the bathroom. Probably to puke or pee, Santana guessed. Hell, maybe both.

Santana couldn't stop staring at her stomach.

Brittany had known. Of course Brittany had known. She had said it wasn't her secret to share, and she hadn't known longer then a day before Sam -then Santana, had found out.

Santana figured there had been a ton of denial on Tina's part, and probably worry about the baby.

Santana wished Brittany would suggest Santana make a baby quilt for little Clark or Diana. Or mention that she needed to find yarn to knit the perfect blanket.

Something.

She sighed quietly, then put on a smirk, and casually said to Tina, "Hey Preggers."

Tina flinched, and Brittany gave Santana a look.

Then Brittany caught eyes with Tina, who was looking like Brittany had utterly betrayed her and was one step away from crying.

She shoved down her annoyance that anyone but her was looking at her wife like that.

And they were married. It had been shoved to the way side with all the crap that had been happening, but they were.

They needed rings. Brittany had already had to fend off two well meaning suitors with a polite, "I'm married, sorry."

Santana hadn't been nearly as polite to the guy that had tried chatting her up.

Definitely had to get rings. Soon.

They'd given the selection of rings available here a courtesy look, but frankly, Santana didn't think any of them were good enough to go on Brittany's hand.

The ring that Santana had wanted to give Brittany -from the moment she'd seen it last year when she'd been helping her dad find a birthday present for her mom at Tiffany's, she'd known it was the ring. It had diamonds set into a platinum band in a flower pattern.

It was amazing and perfect.

Santana had four credit cards, (technically her dad's cards and she was an allowed user) all paid off monthly by her dad without comments on some of her purchases.

She had a high limit.

Her dad trusted her not to go nuts and reach that thirty five hundred limit ever on any of the cards.

The only reason she hadn't bought that ring was because she didn't have the two thousand dollars needed to make up for what she couldn't put on the cards.

The fact that her dad would have wondered why she was buying that ring, and wasn't wearing it hadn't occurred to her. Or that her family might have seen Brittany wearing it which would have opened up a can of worms she hadn't been ready to deal with. She still wasn't ready, kinda. She knew that they really should go to the meeting of the handful of not straight people that was held every week or so, but...despite being married to a women, that felt like admitting something. Which was dumb, she decided, and swore to herself they'd go at the next meeting. She made a mental note to ask Rachel, because of course the hobbit would know when it was.

That sixteen thousand dollar price tag was nothing now -they just needed to head a little ways into Chicago and go to a Tiffany's jewelry shop.

...She wasn't going to include any of the packaging for obvious reasons.

"Sorry Tina," she muttered.

Tina looked from Brittany, to her, then back again. "Wasn't Brittany. It was Sam," Santana added.

"Oh," Tina swallowed, looking down, before taking a deep breath. "I am not naming the baby after a comic book character. I know that much. It -he, or she, deserves to be named after a real hero. I...I always liked the name Hazel. After Hazel Lee. She was a Chinese American pilot in World War Two."

"I think Hazel is a great name," Brittany smiled.

Santana nodded, "Sam will too."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, and I don't want anyone else knowing yet okay?" Tina hefted up her spear, her face looking eerily similar to Rachel's after she'd found Santana's birthday gift to Quinn, "Let's finish walking the fence."

---

She couldn't stop thinking about Gina, Other Brittany, Janet, Margo, Alice, Ashley A, Ashley D, Amy, Marie, Kerri, Cara, Cora, Janice, and Hannah.

Cheerios.

Unlike with the New Directions, they had been a family. Quinn had known their names (she was sure some people would have been surprised for some reason about that) had met their parents (at one point Brittany had been convinced half the New Directions were robots Mr. Schue had built to have enough people to compete, give that only a handful of parents bothered to show up at shows, if that), had a relationship with them all in some form or another. The bi-monthly family dinners Sue held had certainly helped form that bond (although probably not as much as that time Sue had dumped them in the middle of the woods with nothing but some canteens, and knives and told them to meet her sixty miles away.)

That's what had made her a great captain. She had known each girl enough to know how they thought, had known their families enough to know that Amy's parents wouldn't allow her to go to practice if it was on a Sunday, because that was their family day. So Quinn never scheduled any practices on Sunday. Sue had actually listened to her when she explained why -Mr. Schue had never done that for Rachel.

Gina had been planning since freshman year on getting a Master's degree in accounting, and she preferred everything orderly and logical and did not like change much. She also came from a relatively poor family, and if it weren't for the Cheerio's huge budget that paid for everything, wouldn't have been able to afford being a cheerleader.

Ashley D. was on and off dating Rick the Stick, and the not so recent news Quinn had heard (via Santana) was they were off because he'd given her half the money for an abortion, then demanded it back when she miscarried just before the appointment. She had spent it on a leather purse instead, and told him to go fuck himself.

Hannah had thought being on the Cheerios was her key point into getting into Harvard (which Quinn had always thought was kinda silly, because her parents had went there too so that was her in.) She wanted to be a doctor, just like her parents. Her and Brittany had been friends since they were little -Quinn wondered if Brittany ever thought about her. Brittany had been the one to train her to be good enough to get on the Cheerio's in the first place.

That's what she did all day. She laid in bed, stared at the tent wall, and thought about Cheerio's.

She didn't think about Beth. Beth, or Tiffany or Sarah or Theresa or Kyle or Abby or Stevie or Dahlia.

Mack. Kurt. Faith. Marigold. Paisley.

So many more names.

Shelby.

She had a lot of blood on her hands.

She thought about Gina, Other Brittany, Janet, Margo, Alice, Ashley A, Ashley D, Amy, Marie, Kerri, Cara, Cora, Janice, and Hannah.

She thought about them, and she berated herself for ditching them. She hadn't given a single one of them another thought after she'd dropped out of the Cheerio's. Gina had even visited her house, to talk to her -Quinn had been closest to her after Brittany and Santana, despite the fact that Gina had been a bit bitter about Quinn winning Cheer Captain their sophomore year, but she'd gotten over it once she realized how much Sue had expected from her Captain.

Quinn had made some mean remarks about Gina being poor, then slammed the door in the other girl's face.

None of the Cheerio's except Santana and Brittany would talk to her after that.

They were a sisterhood, and Quinn had broken it with some mean comments. Mean comments weren't exactly new in the Cheerio's -but there were lines, and Quinn crossed them.

Then, the zombie apocalypse had hit, and Quinn hadn't tried to save any of them. They were all dead now, and that was Quinn's fault.

Just like her baby being dead was.

She stared at the wall, and she wondered why she was bothering to keep breathing.

The tent flapped opened, and Rachel stood there smiling brilliantly.

Quinn forced herself to sit up, and she stared at Rachel's blurry form. Even without her glasses on, she could make out the blood spattered on her.

Rachel. That's why. Rachel needed her -without her, Rachel would morph into some creature that was barely more human than the zombies. Being here, with a lot of people Rachel wasn't in charge of protecting would help, but still.

Rachel needed her.

---

"Quinn, Quinn the most amazing thing has happened," Rachel said, unable to keep the excitement or the volume down, "Terri and June and I went to the alien wreckage, and...there were a few zombies. Nothing unmanageable, but as we were preparing to deal with them we discovered that the wreckage, it acts as some sort of shield against them! The zombies do not approach the fallen ships!"

Rachel was lying about the number of zombies, of course -but Quinn was obviously dealing with a lot, and she wasn't going to tell the other girl just how closely Rachel had come to dying today.

And it had been very close.

Very close.

But the zombies had simply stopped approaching, as if blocked by an invisible wall.

Through a bit of trial and error (that June insisted on being the test subject for) they had discovered that roughly double a football sized piece of the ship had been enough to ensure they could walk safely through the herd.

Rachel had shot the pipe carrying zombie. Then they attempted to find a vehicle that worked, which had taken quite a while. From there, it was a simple matter of driving around for a bit to lose any remaining zombies following them, then they drove as much as they could before they were forced to walk.

Reynolds had been absolutely incensed with Rachel, Terri, and June. Rachel was on permanent fence cleaning duty (which was a moderately dangerous, and very very disgusting job of removing and burning the corpses that were gathered at the fences, brought down by guards) in addition to whatever group outings arise (having convinced the man that it was her idea alone and she'd blackmailed Terri and June into joining her -they had gotten off rather lightly with simply extra fence walking duty.)

She was fairly certain the only reason she hadn't been kicked off the base was the information they'd brought.

It could turn the tide of things with the aliens, make everything so much easier for the survivors. If even a fourth of a fallen sphere would be enough to protect their whole safe haven would be wonderful. That would mean less manpower walking and cleaning the fences, that meant more was available to grow fresh food and train.

Rachel excitedly babbled all this at Quinn, who slowly relaxed and, when Rachel finished with, "And Reynolds is sending an actual team out tomorrow to gather every bit of the sphere, and see if they can't figure out everything they can about it. Artie told Tina who told Brittany who told me that they contacted the other groups, and there was so much cheering."

Quinn gave her a small smile, and tentatively reached a hand out for Rachel's. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Rachel leaned over, and gave Quinn a soft kiss, "I should go clean up, but I wanted to tell you the great news." Rachel frowned, then sighed as she pulled away, "Quinn, I think...I know this isn't easy, but despite this news, Reynolds, the doctor, they likely aren't going to allow you to just stay in bed for very much longer. There's a lot to do to keep this place running, and..."

"I need to do my share instead of being a useless invalid," Quinn said softly.

Rachel bit at her lip, "I wouldn't quite put it that way, but I believe their tolerance is waning. Nearly everyone has lost someone, and as such that's why there is near daily group therapy meetings and other ways to cope. "

"Tomorrow morning Rachel, I'll get up. I'll shower, and I'll come find you. "

"And you will eat first. I will be on fence cleaning duty unless we're being trained, but...perhaps I can find you a journal and a few helpful books, until you feel ready to attend one the meetings?" Rachel stared at Quinn, "Perhaps you should find Sarah first. She..." Rachel sighed, "She has expressed to both myself and Santana that you will be angry or upset with her for...being alive while Beth is not. Or that you shall blame her," she finished gently.

Quinn gasped. "I...haven't thought about Sarah at all. You didn't mention her, but...I just assumed she...she had died too...she hasn't visited me, it's pretty much just been you three and sometimes Artie, Sam, and Blaine."

"She's scared to do so now that you have woken up, but she did. Everyone, well, almost," Rachel shot Quinn an apologetic smile, "everyone is intent on giving you space."

"I...maybe you could send her in after you leave?"

"Of course. I am very sorry I did not realize you thought she was dead as well Quinn," Rachel apologized.

"It's not your fault Rachel," Quinn clutched Rachel's hand tighter.

Rachel reached her other hand up, and gently traced the healed scar on Quinn's face. "Have you had the doctor look at it yet?"

Quinn nodded, "'Said it healed as well as could be expected."

"I was correct. You are still breathtakingly beautiful."

At this, Quinn snorted. It was the first time Rachel had heard her even come close to a laugh in a while, "I think you're just biased Rachel."

Rachel shook her head, "No, no. Do I need to poll everyone?"

"And when," Quinn said dryly, "Will you have time to poll people?"

She swung the covers off herself, and stuck a long leg out and over the edge of the bed, the long men's t-shirt she wore riding up. Rachel found herself staring with a guilty blush.

Life, Rachel realized with a sigh as she watched Quinn get out of bed and do some simple stretches, moved on. Going forward was the only way you could go, people couldn't stop or go backwards.

Rachel would just have to help make sure Quinn realized that. You coped. You survived.

---

She felt like nothing. A dull cloak of entropy had settled on her shoulders.

It was good that the others had gotten them somewhere safe, with a competent leader.

Quinn wasn't a leader. She wasn't a good sister, good friend, or good girlfriend. She wasn't anything.

She wasn't a mother.

Sarah had shyly entered the small next near the medical tent Quinn had holed up in, holding Bacon and a small bag after Rachel had left then tent. Quinn had finished her stretching, then curled back in bed.

Sarah. God, sweet Sarah shouldn't have this responsibility on her. None of them should.

They were just kids.

The oldest among them -Santana, was barely eighteen.

They should be planning a graduation party, and getting things ready to haul away to whatever college they'd gotten into.

Not fighting zombies and aliens of all things. She wasn't even sure Santana wasn't just playing a prank on her about the whole alien thing.

This was just wrong.

Quinn couldn't make it right.

She couldn't make anything right.

She could at least make Sarah feel better, "Hi Sarah. Can I get a hug?"

Sarah nodded, and suddenly Quinn found herself engulfed tightly in Sarah's arms, the poodle wiggling between them.

When she finally pulled away, Sarah smiled shyly at Quinn, and held out the bag, "Santana found someone's hidden stash of bacon jerky, and took all three bags. She saved one for you, said I could give it to you. She made a really bad joke about turning Bacon into jerky, too, but then I cried and she felt bad. It was fake crying though, Rachel's been teaching me a little acting because she wants me to help her with a prank against Santana. She still won't tell me what Santana did to her though. "

Quinn stared at the bag, tears welling in her eyes. She blinked them back, and smiled at Sarah. "Thank you." She pulled the top off, and opened it. Taking out a piece, she offered it to Sarah, who shook her head. "No thank you. I don't eat pig meat any more. I mean, there isn't really any...but if there was, I wouldn't eat it. Well, Rachel made me promise to eat it anyway if it was all we had, just like how she had to stop being vegan..."

As the younger girl babbled, Quinn carefully took a bite of the rejected bacon jerky.

It was delicious.

She finished the piece, then carefully closed the bag.

Every day she got out of bed, and did something productive, she'd let herself have a bite. She'd start today, now, instead of in the morning.

She'd get bacon, it'd last a while, and Rachel wouldn't worry so much. It was a good plan as long as she had the discipline to keep to it.

Quinn had never had a problem with discipline.

Lucy did. But Lucy had been dead for a very long time.

Letting Bacon lick her fingers, the poodle thumping his tail against the bed, she looked at the girl who was still babbling in a very Rachel way about the base and training.

"And I did four pushups! They were really hard and my arms were shaky. Sebastian only did three, and I did them faster than him too. He swore that one day he'd beat me, and was really upset with Blaine for betting against him. I hope they're not mad at each other..."

Quinn's smile came easy, "They aren't Sarah," until it faded away again and she looked at Sarah Puckerman seriously, "...Rachel told me that you...thought I'd be...mad or disappointed...that...?"

She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

She didn't have to.

Sarah looked down, and rubbed behind Bacon's ear, who had settled down on the pile of blankets next to Quinn, "Are you?"

"No Sarah. It wasn't your fault. At all. I could never be upset that you are alive and well, okay? I love you." Quinn licked her lips, and once more Sarah threw herself at Quinn, hugging her tightly. At least this time Bacon was out of the way.

"Why don't we get out of here? You can show me our tent?"

"Okay Quinn," Sarah beamed at her and scooped the poodle up off the bed as Quinn stood up, clutching the bag of bacon jerky.

There wasn't anything in here she needed to take with her, so she accepted Sarah's hand, and they walked out together.

The cloak of entropy was still there, but it felt like it had slipped off her shoulders a little bit.

---

They finished singing the Happy Birthday song to Sarah, Sarah was grinning happily. Rachel wished she could have organized a performance for Sarah's birthday, but she was kept quite busy between cleaning the fences, working in the gardens, latrine duty, and attending meetings while also tutoring Sarah and spending time with Quinn and the others. There simply had not been enough time for the practice they all sorely needed.

"That was great you guys, thank you," She said shyly, clearly not quite comfortable with all the people present at her birthday party.

Besides their group, a good portion of the warehouse's population had showed up -Sarah was the youngest person there, until Violeta gave birth, and apparently that was worth celebrating.

Perhaps it was.

It all the more incensed Rachel that Sarah was required to fight zombies with them.

True, the girl managed to kill two or three every time they were sent out.

But still, Sarah was a child.

They had been at the warehouse for five and a half weeks now. She was still being punished for the trip to the UFO, but Terri and June were off punishment and she was hopeful she would be soon as well, that it wouldn't actually be permanent.

Once she was, she was going to set up a campaign to get Sarah off the team. She was confident she would make Remolds see reason.

Hopefully he did so before Sarah was hurt.

She would never, ever forgive him if Sarah was injured or killed because he wouldn't listen to her. She had, after all, been right in examining the alien ship.

The team that had been sent -with trucks and a bulldozer to clear the path, had taken seven days to get to, collect, and return with the U.F.O. Then it had been flown to Iceland where scientists were busy examining it right now -a small chunk had been left here, and sent to the other three survivor groups for an emergency.

Sarah would mostly be receiving books for her birthday -Santana had made sure that anyone who was going to show up to Sarah's party had a long list of books they could try to find if they were inclined to bring her a gift. Santana had found a very sturdy pair of hiking boots for Sarah -about a size too big to give the girl room to grow. Brittany had knit several pairs of thick socks to take up the extra room until she did grow in to them. Rachel was planning on giving Sarah a very detailed guide book to Jerusalem -she would likely not be able to visit ever in her lifetime, and had expressed sadness at that fact, and a white gold necklace with a teardrop diamond pendent she'd grabbed from an expensive jewelry store on the outskirts of Chicago.

It had been worth roughly twenty five thousand dollars at one point.

Now it was near worthless, since it could not protect, feed, hydrate or house you…it's only worth now was how much it would make Sarah happy.

Sam had hunted down a bunch of toys and dog things for Bacon that Sarah had mentioned she'd wanted at some point, as well as a really nice looking Wonder Woman hoodie for her. Rachel had almost convinced him to get himself a really cool Ironman one he'd seemed interested in, but he'd just shook his head and left it, so she let it go.

She took it as a good sign that he'd at least considered it for half a second.

"Present time Sarah," Santana shouted, and handed Sarah a beautifully wrapped package. Wrapping paper and ribbon had not been in short supply, so it seemed, judging by the pile, that most everyone who had brought a gift had did their best to make it beautiful.

Quinn wasn't watching Sarah carefully unwrap her gift, she was staring at the ground.

Rachel reached over, and took her hand, squeezing it lightly. Quinn had been doing much much better, but still had her moments. Rachel was certain that was to be expected.

Quinn looked up, and shot Rachel a small smile. Still holding hands, together they watched Sarah unwrap her presents and excitedly thank whomever the gift giver was.

At Quinn's present -a framed drawing of Puck, Sarah, and their mother, Sarah stood up and ran over and gave Quinn a teary hug.

Sarah, like many people, did not have any photos of her family. There had been a beaten up and battered photo of the trio that Puck had kept in his sun visor -no one had thought to take it when they'd left the truck, and Sarah had been too traumatized to think about it. Santana had cursed when she realized that, while they had remembered to grab Artie's glasses from the glove box, she and Sam had both forgotten the photo.

Rachel was fairly certain she had learned several new curse words in Spanish.

Sarah hugged Rachel too, just because, then went back to the present table and resumed her present unwrapping.

The party was held outside, their group decorating an area with streamers and balloons. It was nice, and a lovely way to enjoy the sun.

"Thank you Mrs. Zhou!" Sarah called out, holding up a lovely knitted sweater that would be perfect next winter as it was big enough for Sarah to grow into. Grinning, she stood up, and darted to the Asian woman -who was shorter then Sarah, and hugged her.

As she was returning to the present table, a long shadow fell upon them.

There were screams.

Someone pointed up, and Rachel looked.

A large, large enough to block the sky, ship was slowly moving over them.

She gasped, and Quinn clutched her hand so tightly her nails dug into Rachel's skin.

---

A/N: This chapter fought me every inch of the way when I managed to find time to write. But it's done now yay.

One chapter left! Artie! Kitty! Yay!

Please vote in my poll on my profile. It'll help me decide some things for the sequel. Every vote counts!

A lot of you are expressing disappointment that almost all the kids are dead and the issues that will lead to, and maybe you can't bring yourself to keep reading. I'm sure some of you have already unfollowed the story.

Please finish the final chapter before you make any hasty choices about continuing with the sequel or not.

If there's anything you want to see in the sequel, now is the time to mention it. I will take everything everyone suggests, along with the poll results, and see how they fit into my outline.