MA

by itsbiz

for

10. Chapter 10

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/1861536.

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

F/M

Fandom:

Doctor Who RPF

Relationship:

Alex Kingston/Matt Smith

Character:

Alex Kingston, Matt Smith

Stats:

Published: 2014-06-28 Completed: 2014-08-30 Chapters: 10/10

Words: 44728

these fragments i have shored against my ruins

by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)

Summary

She doesn't smell like citrus and flowers anymore. She smells like dirt and sweat and death, just like everything does these days, but she still hugs like Alex – with her whole body and her whole heart, her small hands still cling to his neck and oh god, he thought he would never see her again.

Notes

Story title from The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot. Chapter title from Runaway by The National.

there's no saving anything

He's walking back from his daily scavenge for food when he hears a noise from the burnt out building on the corner of Dering and Bond streets. It sounds like one of them and he almost hurries his steps to get away before it notices him, one hand tightening around the small bag filled with food he'd managed to find for himself and the others. He drops his other hand to the gun stuffed into the waistband of his trousers. He hears another noise – the distressed shout of a woman who hadn't been lucky enough to go unnoticed.

Swearing under his breath, Matt pulls out his handgun and makes a dash for the shell of what used to be a teashop, once upon a time. He remembers coming here before – well, just before – with Kaz and Arthur, catching up after filming for Who ended. He used to meet his sister here for brunch. Now, the windows are shattered and the inside has been ravaged, everything that could possibly be used stolen by scavengers like him. What's left is a hollowed out husk, nothing but broken glass and weeds growing up out of the cracked floor, nature starting to take over in place of man.

Matt creeps inside, still holding tightly to his food bag with one hand, and follows the noise of a struggle all the way to the back of the shop, where a woman with red, bushy hair shrinks into the corner against the wall, lobbing whatever she can reach at the creature clawing at her leg and hissing. Tears roll down her dirty cheeks as she kicks out fiercely but Matt knows it's no use – the thing is toying with her. It could have snapped her in two by now.

Before it gets the chance, he lifts his gun hand, aims, and waits until the woman's head is no longer in the line of fire before he shoots. He'll never get used to the dying groan of the damned things – like a final call to the others. They'll no doubt be along shortly, hungry for human flesh.

Currently splattered in blood and still crying, the woman doesn't move, staring in shock as the infected falls to its knees, gives one last dying gasp before collapsing at her feet, dead. Moving quickly, Matt hisses as he approaches her, "Don't just stand there. Come on."

She gapes at him, green eyes wide, and the same moment he realizes just who he's looking at, she whispers, "Matt?"

He stops in his tracks, staring at her with his heart in his throat. He hasn't seen her since before everything went to hell – that last scene they filmed together, that precious goodbye kiss he hadn't realized would truly be their last. She's thinner, covered in layers of dirt, her curls no longer shining ringlets around her face but instead a frizzy, unkempt mess but he'd know those eyes and that nose anywhere. "My god. Alex? Sweetheart, is that you?"

His soft spoken words seems to undo her entirely, as if she is no longer used to such tenderness from anyone and can only crumble when faced with any kindness at all. She bursts into tears and Matt drops everything – the food bag, his gun, any concerns about who might be coming for them if they stay out here in the open any longer – and reaches for her. Pulling her from her hiding place, he gathers her into his arms and shushes her softly, burying his face in her hair.

She doesn't smell like citrus and flowers anymore. She smells like dirt and sweat and death, just like everything does these days, but she still hugs like Alex – with her whole body and her whole heart, her small hands still cling to his neck and oh god, he thought he would never see her again. He thought he'd lost her, along with Kaz and Arthur, along with his family. He thought he would never hold Alex Kingston again.

He used to lie awake at night, wondering what had happened to her, if she'd perished during the initial outbreak or later, from the infection. If she'd become one of the very beings he fought against every day. If she'd holed up somewhere dark and dank only to die of exposure or starvation or both. He has tortured himself with thoughts of her fate for nearly two years and here she is – safe and whole and in his arms, her tears seeping into his ratty shirt.

He strokes a hand through her hair, shutting his eyes when they begin to sting. Alex curls her hands into his shirt, sniffling. "I thought I would never see you again. I've been so alone, darling. I've lost -" She chokes on the words and he shakes his head, holding her tighter.

"It's alright, Kingston," he soothes. "Everything is alright now. I've got you."

Outside, an echoing chorus of howls sends a shiver down his spine. Alex tenses in his arms and he instinctively grips her to his side, reaching once more for his gun. "Oh god, you've got to go. They're coming."

"I'm not leaving without you, Kingston. Have you lost the plot?"

"But -"

He shuts her up with a fierce, biting kiss, his hands cupping her dirt-streaked face and his thumbs stroking soft, tanned skin. She whimpers, clinging to him like he's her life raft and she's adrift at sea. "You're coming with me," he breathes when they part. "And that's the end of it."

Alex nods shakily, offering him a grateful, trembling smile.

Shoving the food bag at her, he waits for her to shoulder it before he takes her hand and grips it tight. They'll get back to base together. He'll feed her his ration for the day and give her his blanket and god, share a cot with her if he has to but there is no way in hell he is ever letting her out of his sight again.

Outside, the growling grows closer. Matt's stomach tightens in anticipation, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins. He glances at Alex, smiling at her wide eyes. "On the count of three," he says.

Her gaze drifts to the gun clenched in his hand and she sets her jaw, eyes flashing. "One."

"Two."

"Three."

The infected are waiting outside when they burst through the door, crouched low on the ground and snarling like savages. Matt fires off two shots into the heads of the pair closest to him – the only way anyone has found to truly kill them – and doesn't have time to revel in the victory before the other two make a leap for him and Alex. She doesn't cower, raising the heavy food bag and using it to knock one of them away from her.

Using his free arm, Matt tugs her behind him, shielding her from the clawing, grasping hands as they stumble back away from them. He feels her warm, shallow breath on the back of his neck and her fingers curling into his shirt, fisting the material in her hand. "Stay behind me," he orders, lifting his gun again as the creatures start to limp forward. The little bastards are putting on a show, like he's never seen them before and has no idea what they're capable of – as if he'll be fooled by this slow, shuffling act. He's seen them in action. He knows they can run faster than any human, faster than his mother and his sister could ever have hoped to be. He knows their reflexes are super human and that if he isn't careful, he could lose his gun in the blink of an eye.

He tightens his grip and flexes his finger against the trigger, momentarily distracted by Alex stumbling behind him, tripping over wreckage in the middle of the war-torn street as she walks backwards. She recovers without slamming into the ground but that split-second was all it took for them to focus on her instead – the weak link. Their odd, blank eyes zero in on her, heads tilted, and then before Matt can react, they lunge.

Alex screams.

He fires instantly, more panicked than he's been since the very first attack three years ago, and misses. His shot hits the shoulder of one of them and it shrieks in pain but does not die, and he fires again, forcing himself to ignore Alex's cries behind him and willing his shaking hand to steady. His next shot hits the damned thing right in the center of its forehead.

"Matt!"

Whirling, he sees Alex on the ground, barely managing to fend off the last one, kicking wildly and still clutching that food bag to her chest – a precious commodity she stubbornly refuses to give up. Tears stream down her face as she fights it off and the infected grabs at her with a long, spindly hand. Matt sees red, throwing himself at them both and knocking the thing off Alex.

It roars as he shoves it to the ground and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alex scrambling to her feet once more, shaken but safe. He relaxes, hands wrapping around its throat as they both roll around in the dirt, snapping and snarling at each other as they struggle for dominance. It bares its teeth – sharp, gleaming and already slicked with the blood of someone else, like a warning for what's coming. Matt's blood turns cold. One scrape of its teeth would break his skin and there would be no saving him then. There still isn't a cure for the infection.

He can hear Alex screaming his name as she hovers behind him, afraid to come any closer only to get in his way. He wants to reassure her that he'll be fine, that he's dealt with these things more any one person ever should and still managed to walk away but the sound of her voice draws the attention of the infected. It lifts its head and those blank, unseeing eyes land right on her.

Matt growls, wrapping his long legs around the its emaciated waist, and flips them, pinning the creature to the ground with every bit of strength in his body. Breathing hard as it thrashes and snarls beneath him, Matt presses the muzzle of his gun to its forehead and looks into black eyes utterly devoid of life or feeling. The disease it carries has taken so much from him, from everyone he knows. They've all lost so much. Family, friends, so many children, who they used to be before all this. Everything.

"Not Alex," he grits out, teeth clenched.

It licks its lips, blood on its tongue.

Matt squeezes the trigger.

The dying wail echoes in the streets and he shudders, glancing away. As hard as it is to see it now, that thing used to be a human being. Someone's baby, someone's lover, someone's friend. He slides his gun back into the waistband of his trousers and tries not to think about how many of his own friends he's probably killed without even knowing it.

"Matt?"

He glances up sharply and finds Alex hovering, her whole frame shaking as she looks at him worriedly and my god, she looks nothing like his Alex – all curls and curves, laughter and naughty grins. She looks like she's been through hell and back and he wonders what he must look like to her. Probably much the same. They are none of them who they used to be.

"Are you alright?" She nods, holding out a hand to him, and he takes it, letting her help him to his feet. "Let me see you." The moment he's upright, he takes her by the shoulders and begins to inspect her frantically, checking her torn clothing, beneath her hair, her bare skin, anywhere at all where a scratch or a bite might be. "Are you sure?"

She nods again, taking his face in her hands, and he stops his frenzied search long enough to look into her eyes. They don't sparkle the way they used to but there's just enough of a glimmer of humor in her gaze to make his breathing hitch in relief. "I'm not hurt," she promises softly. "Are you?"

He shakes his head silently, still staring, and feels a lump form in his throat. Leaning in, he presses a soft, firm kiss to her forehead, one hand clutching her grimy hair. "I'm fine," he swears. Now that you're here.

Base is an underground compound just outside of London. It started off small and unassuming; just a little hole in the ground, but now it's an entire network of complexes beneath the earth – brick and mortar taken from the underground. No one uses the trains anymore anyway. It's teeming with people, survivors who have nowhere else to go and just want to feel safe. Matt leads Alex through security, nodding to those on guard, and flexes his fingers in her tight grip. "Don't worry," he says under his breath as he tugs her along. "You'll be safe here."

She flashes him a small smile full of anxiety that says she probably can't even remember what safe feels like. He'll remind her. Every day and every chance he gets, he'll make Alex Kingston's safety his priority. She's all he has now and by the look on her face when he found her, he's all she has too.

Winding through corridors, he makes his way first to the makeshift canteen, where food is distributed and eaten. It's after mealtime and the room is mostly deserted save for Harry, perusing a three-year-old newspaper, tattered and creased from frequent rereading. He looks up when Matt gently pushes Alex into the room, brow furrowed, and Matt lifts a hand in greeting but doesn't bother with an explanation yet.

He leads Alex to one the tables they'd managed to procure from the wreckage and while it's battered and the wood is crumbling, it still serves its purpose. He pushes her gently to sit and she does so without a word, glancing around her with wide eyes. "Was this all here before?"

He shakes his head, depositing the food bag on the table and rummaging through it. "There are a few bunkers round here that apocalypse nutters -" He stops, frowning. They hadn't been so nuts though, had they? "The, erm, the believers built long before it ever happened. But those were mostly for individual use – families and the like. This one's pretty massive by comparison."

Alex hums in agreement, still blinking at her surroundings like a peasant brought to Buckingham Palace. He wonders when she last had the luxury of sitting down at a table to a meal, safe in the knowledge that nothing was coming to harm her or the last time she could lay her head down at night on a real pillow without constantly listening for noises in the dark. He wonders how long she's been alone. Unable to help himself, he reaches out a hand to touch her cheek. She flinches as if on instinct but when he goes to pull away and apologize, she grasps his hand tightly in hers, leaning her cheek into his palm. "Thank you."

He shrugs, blinking away the sudden sting in his eyes, and Alex releases his hand to let him sort through the bag once more. Pulling out a tin of soup and a small bag of crisps, he hands them both to her. "Not exactly gourmet but -"

"No, it's more than I've had in a while, darling." She takes the food from him quickly, as if he might take it away from her if she doesn't move fast enough. He eyes her thin frame with an ache in his chest, unable to stop himself from comparing the Alex in front of him with the Alex he remembers – perfect curves and glorious arse he always had trouble keeping his eyes off of.

"I'll try to get you something else," he promises softly. "Something a little more filling."

She shakes her head, opening the can of soup slowly, her hands shaking. "This is perfect, Matt. Really."

He bites back a reply, silently determined to see the return of the Alex he remembers. He'll slip

her extra rations when he can, find her extra little treats when he goes out looking for food – anything to fill out her too-thin frame once more. Stroking a hand over her knotted hair, he says, "Sit here and eat, then. I'm going talk to Harry -" She looks up with wide eyes and he manages a tight smile at the panic he sees on her face. "He's just over there." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, feeling Harry's eyes on his back. "I'm not leaving, I swear."

"Right, sorry." Alex glances away, staring into her tin of soup with a frown. "Go wherever you need to. I'll be fine."

With one last press of his lips to her temple, he leaves her to eat in peace, turning on his heel and starting for Harry across the room. Paper long since abandoned, Harry eyes him with suspicion, wary gaze occasionally drifting behind him where Alex sits, hunched in on herself and trembling. Matt sinks into the seat opposite his best mate and sighs, threading his fingers through his hair.

Harry arches a brow. "What are you doing? You can't just pick up random birds and bring them back to base. Has she even seen the doctor yet? She could be infected and Christ knows what else -"

"She's not a random bird, idiot," he says, lifting his head to glare. "She's Alex Kingston."

Instantly, his gaze leaps to Alex sitting a few tables away from them, devouring her soup like a starving animal. She doesn't look much like the woman she used to be but something of her old self must shine through because after a few more brief moments of study, Harry's eyes widen.

"My god."

Matt nods, rubbing at his temple with two fingers. "Found her inside that old teashop on Dering and Bond – but not before one of those things found her first."

Harry scrubs a hand over his face, raking his fingers through his mess of blonde hair. "Jesus, she alright?"

"She isn't infected, if that's what you mean. They scanned her when I brought her in."

Harry pauses, eyeing him through his fingers. "And if that isn't what I mean?"

Matt shrugs. "We haven't spoken much about… anything. I think she's just happy to have found someone she knows."

Settling his chin in his palm, Harry raises his brows, lips twitching. "Mate -"

"Don't, Harry." Matt glances over his shoulder quickly at Alex before turning back to level his friend with a stern look. "Don't say it."

"But -"

"Stop."

He huffs. "Fine, whatever. What is she doing here?"

Matt stares at him incredulously. "Did you expect me to leave her there?"

"Of course not, idiot." Harry sighs. "I meant do we have room for her. The place isn't exactly endless and we're almost full as it is."

"I don't care." Matt sets his jaw stubbornly. "I'll give her my cot, my food, anything. She has to stay here."

Harry holds up his hands in mock complacency. "Alright, alright. I'll see about adding her to the roster."

Matt lifts his eyes to his friend and manages a grateful nod. "Thanks."

"What would you do without me?"

Harry grins blithely but Matt knows without him, he would have given up long ago. Only Harry has been with him since the very beginning – they'd been together during the initial outbreak and they haven't been parted since. Harry had helped him through the loss of his mother and father, his sister, Kaz, Arthur – everyone. Harry had forced him to keep going because Harry needed him - ever since they were kids, he has looked up to Matt, has looked to him for guidance. Matt couldn't let him down when Harry needed him most. So he kept going for Harry, and eventually,

once the grief faded to a dull pain, he found the strength to keep going for himself too. And now – now, he has another reason to go on.

Standing slowly, Harry lets his eyes drift over Matt's head to Alex once more, and his grin softens from the usual smartass arrogance into something gentler. Dropping his eyes back to Matt, he lowers his voice and says, "Do you have any idea how lucky you are? We've lost so much, mate." He swallows hard, working his jaw silently for a long moment while Matt struggles to keep his eyes from stinging. "You thought you lost her for good. I could see it in your face every single day. You thought she was dead and it was like a part of you went with her. But there she is, sitting right over there. You've got a second chance. She's alive and she's here and I just have to ask that you don't wait too long again."

Matt shakes his head. "I don't think she's looking for romance, Harry." He doesn't dare mention that hard, messy kiss he and Alex had shared back at the remnants of that teashop. He doesn't even know what it means – if it means anything – yet. And Harry would never let him hear the end of it. "I have no idea what she's been through but the years clearly haven't been kind to her."

"They haven't been kind to any of us, mate." Harry claps him on the shoulder, squeezing roughly. "All the more reason to hold onto happiness wherever we manage to find it, yeah?"

Matt nods once, pursing his lips, and Harry releases his shoulder with a sigh, turning and marching off down the hall to take care of making sure Alex has a place to stay tonight. Matt takes a moment to collect himself, breathing in deeply, before he pushes away from the table and stands, turning to face Alex. She's just finishing up her meal and he quickly reaches for the canteen Harry had left behind on the table. "Thirsty?" He asks, and Alex jumps. "Sorry. I just – I thought you might want some water."

She nods. "Please."

He hands it to her, watching her unscrew the cap and take a long, slow swig. "You can have my cot tonight until they can make better arrangements for you – I know you must be exhausted so don't even try that whole I'll just sleep on the floor bit, Kingston." He narrows his eyes at her and she sighs, taking another drink. "Now, I hope I'm not wrong in guessing you'd like to wash up before you sleep?"

She moves the canteen away from her mouth in surprise, eyes lit up. "You have showers?"

He nods, shrugging. "Only a couple but yeah. I mean, the water is freezing and the soap is horrendous but it's better than nothing, right?"

"I've had nothing and I can say with absolute certainty that anything is better than that." Alex pushes aside the canteen and stands, her eyes miles away.

Matt swallows past the lump in his throat and reaches for her hand, squeezing lightly. When she looks at him – really looks at him – he smiles and says, "I'll lead the way then." As she follows him through winding corridors, he keeps glancing at her until he realizes why she doesn't look quite like Alex. "Kingston, your hair. It's red."

She manages a small smile and a shrug. "My natural color."

He never knew that. When she was on set, it was always blonde for River and off set, she tended to color it dark. He always assumed her natural color must be somewhere in the middle. "I like it," he says, and finds that he means it. It suits her, somehow. "It's nice."

Casting a disbelieving glance at him, she touches a hand to her frizzy mane and says, "Bollocks."

He snorts and Alex shoves him away.

After he shows her where the showers are and finds a towel for her to use – small, thin, and scratchy but it gets the job done – he leaves her to scrub herself free of dirt and grime, wandering off to find her something to change into before she gets out. With Harry's help, he manages to locate some things for her to wear and he waits while she changes. When she finally wanders out of the showers dressed in the sweatpants and old t-shirt he'd given her, she looks more like his Alex, her freshly scrubbed skin pink and glistening, her curls dripping everywhere.

"How was it?" He asks, smiling at the sight of her.

She grins, wringing water from her hair. "Heavenly. Thank you, darling. I almost feel like a new person."

"Imagine what a good night's sleep will get you," he teases. "I won't even recognize you."

"Surprised you can now," she murmurs.

He tugs at a damp curl playfully. "I'd know you anywhere, Kingston."

She catches his hand in hers and squeezes. "I'm glad."

He leads her through winding, dimly lit corridors until they reach the area where the cots are kept, several rooms all in a row lined with beds. He stops in front of his own with a gesture at the pillow, where a pile of neatly folded clothes and a pair of hiking boots sit. "Found those for you to put on tomorrow. The shoes might be a bit big but it was all I could find."

She shakes her head. "Those will be perfect. All of this is -" She stops, pursing her lips as her eyes fill up. "This is so much more than I've dared to hope for in a long while. Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"Hey, always, Kingston." He smiles tightly, moving to take the clothes from her pillow and pull back the thin blanket. He helps her into bed and pulls the blanket up to her chin, stroking a hand over her cheek. "It's you and me now."

"Yes," she whispers, turning and burying her face against her pillow. "It is. Just us." She closes her eyes, brow pinched. "Your family, Matt -"

He swallows, glancing away. "Gone."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"Stay with me until I fall asleep?"

He settles on the floor beside her cot and rests his chin on the thin mattress. "Try and stop me."

She inches out a hand from beneath her blanket and he clasps it in his own, watching as her expression slowly deteriorates from exhaustion to utter desolation. "I lost her, Matt," she whispers brokenly. "I lost my baby."

He rises to his knees and wraps his arms around her as she begins to sob, burying his face in her damp hair. The smell of the bunker's cheap soap clings to her curls and her skin. He misses the scent of flowers in her hair, the lightly scented perfume that always lingered on her hands and the hollow of her neck when he hugged her. "I'm so sorry, Alex," he whispers fiercely. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"Why her, Matt?" She asks, voice thick with tears. "Why not me?"

"I don't know. But you can't do this to yourself, sweetheart. You'll drive yourself mad. And I would know, believe me." Her shoulders heave beneath his hands and he strokes a soothing palm up and down her back, humming softly. "You're going to be alright," he promises, tightening his hold on her when she shakes her head in denial. "I swear it, Kingston. One day, you'll be able to breathe again."

She curls her fingers into his t-shirt and cries herself to sleep, clinging to him all the while. Matt climbs onto the small cot beside her and does not sleep, holding her through the night and kissing her forehead when she whimpers while she dreams. He has a feeling it's been a very long time since Alex Kingston has had anyone to chase away the nightmares. He silently decides as she shakes and cries in his arms that from now on, he'd like it to be him.

there's a bullet in my pocket burning a hole

Chapter Summary

It's been two weeks since he found her and she barely eats enough to keep a bird alive. Her weight hasn't increased despite his attempts to feed her whenever he can manage, scraping some of his portion onto her plate when she isn't looking.

Chapter Notes

So you're getting this chapter a bit early because starting tomorrow I'll be without wifi over the weekend. Also, I just want to thank you guys so much for your comments, bless all your faces. I was so nervous about this fic and you've all been fantastic and encouraging. SQUISHES FOR EVERYBODY.

Chapter title taken from The Dead Weather's So Far From Your Weapon.

"You going to eat that?"

Matt glances up from his plate and finds Harry eyeing the small portion of untouched eggs on Alex's. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye and Matt can see her fingers curling around her plate, muscles tensed to push the food in his direction. "Yes," he interrupts, scowling at Harry. "She is."

Alex pauses, drops her eyes back to her plate, and starts pushing her food around again.

Across the table, Harry shrugs. "Sorry. Just hate to see food go to waste."

Matt glares. "She'll eat it."

Frowning, Harry turns back to his own food and starts shoveling it into his mouth again. One glance at Alex is enough to rob Matt of his appetite and he drops his fork with a sigh, eyeing her with concern. It's been two weeks since he found her and she barely eats enough to keep a bird alive. Her weight hasn't increased despite his attempts to feed her whenever he can manage, scraping some of his portion onto her plate when she isn't looking.

"Kingston," he ventures gently, waiting for her to lift her eyes and look at him. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry," she says.

"You haven't been hungry for days," he counters. "Are you ill?" Her eyes, dull and green, lift to his with a spark of incredulity. They both know she isn't ill. Matt swallows, holding her gaze unwaveringly until she looks down again, fidgeting uneasily. "At least finish your eggs."

She flexes her jaw stubbornly. "I'm not a child, Matt."

"Oh, I know," he assures her, smiling. "But you're going to start looking like one if you don't put

on some weight."

She snorts and mutters, "Yes, if only Hollywood could see me now. I might have actually gotten a part with this thigh gap."

"Alex -"

Ignoring him, she pushes her plate toward Harry. "I'm not hungry."

Harry glances between her and Matt silently, deliberating. "Babe, I understand you've no appetite," he finally says slowly. "I certainly didn't for a long time after…" He trails off, blinks away a memory, and clears his throat. "I get it, yeah? But you're worrying our dear idiot, here, and neither of us will have a moment's peace until you eat these bloody eggs. Humor him, for god's sake." Alex stares as Harry shoves the plate back at her. He drops his eyes meaningfully to her rapidly congealing eggs and says, "Go on then. Just enough to shut him up."

With one last suspicious glance at Harry, Alex grudgingly picks up her fork. Matt and Harry return to their plates, pretending they aren't watching her every move, and both let out a collective breath of relief the moment she takes a bite. As she chews slowly, Matt offers Harry a quick, grateful nod and Harry shrugs, going back to devouring his scant breakfast.

"Going out today?" He asks around a mouthful.

"In about an hour," Matt says, sipping the utter shite that passes for coffee in the compound and watching Alex take another bite out of the corner of his eye. He sees her perk up at their topic of conversation and hurriedly turns his attention back to Harry. "Hoping I might bring back dinner. I'm getting bloody sick of simulated meatloaf and tinned beans."

Harry wrinkles his nose. "My god, I'd face an infected for a bite of squirrel."

"Or a decent pillow," Matt grumbles. "Or a blanket that doesn't itch."

"Chocolate."

"A radio."

"Books."

"Real tea."

"Sex."

"Harry!"

"What?" He glances at Alex. "Oh, sorry."

She ignores him, her focus solely on Matt. "Can I go?"

"What, with me?" He shakes his head hurriedly. "Oh no, Kingston. No way. It's too dangerous."

"I've been out there before -"

"Yeah, and you were almost killed, if you recall," he replies with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. "That infected almost had you before I showed up and saved your arse."

Alex flinches. "No one asked you to save me."

He drops his fork, gaping at her. "What the hell kind of response is that? What did you want me to do, leave you there?"

Shrugging, she drops her eyes back to plate and lifts another forkful of eggs to her mouth, mumbling, "Maybe you should have."

He stares at her in silence, feeling like someone just kicked him in the chest.

Harry elbows her gently and murmurs, "Not cool, Alex."

At his tone of disapproval, she glances up again and finds Matt pale and stricken, gazing at her unblinkingly. Softening, she shakes her head, wayward curls slipping from her haphazard ponytail. "I'm sorry, Matt. I – I didn't mean it."

She had.

They both know it.

He swallows, nodding silently. "Sure."

"I just – I'm tired of sitting here all day." She bites her lip. "I want to go out."

"How would you even defend yourself? You don't know how to use a gun, you're thin enough a bloody strong wind could knock you over – I can't risk you, Alex." Matt shakes his head, lips pressed firmly together. And even if she could defend herself, he's starting to get the feeling she wouldn't try. He never realized until now just how little fight is left in her eyes. He'll keep her here the rest of her life if it means she'll be safe – from the infected and from herself.

"So you get to go out and see the sun and I'm stuck here underground?" She asks bitingly. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Sign up for rotations," Harry suggests. "We could always use help in the kitchen and with laundry, cleaning the bathrooms. Might be better to start there anyway – probably have a riot on our hands if the newest survivor gets to go out and scavenge with Matt. Don't want to piss anyone off." He grins, raising his eyebrows playfully at her. "Yet."

Alex deflates, frowning at her plate, and Matt is both jealous and appreciative of Harry's strange ability to influence her thinking and change her mind. "Please, Kingston," he pleads quietly. "Just stay here. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you."

Finally, through gritted teeth, Alex says, "Fine."

Matt sighs quietly in relief.

"But you're going alone?"

"Usually always do."

"That can't be safe either." She frowns and a part of him can't help being thrilled at the concern. They haven't even come close to kissing again since he found her two weeks ago. He doesn't want to push her. She climbs into his cot most nights, seeking solace from the nightmares, but nothing ever happens. He's been learning to be patient. "Who's going to keep you from tripping to your death or something?"

"Oi!"

Her eyes flicker with the faintest hint of amusement and his heart skips a beat. "You need looking after."

"I'll volunteer." Harry slings an arm around her shoulders and winks at Matt. "I can look after your sweetheart, Alex."

She looks faintly embarrassed but doesn't protest. Matt feels hope flare in his chest and ducks his head to study his plate, hiding a smile.

He gets back later than he'd intended and most everyone is asleep as he slinks through the dark room and fumblingly makes his way to his cot, wanting nothing but to collapse onto it and not move for hours. Except, when he finds his bed, it's already occupied.

Blinking tiredly, Matt peers into the dark. "Alex?"

Curled into a ball, her head on his pillow, she stirs. "Matt?" She gasps quietly, sitting up. "Where have you been? You should have been back ages ago!"

Shrugging, he sinks down onto the edge of his cot and begins to tug off his boots. "Got caught up."

He can feel her eyes narrowing. "Caught up in what?"

"Found a really gorgeous infected. Shagged her for hours."

"Not funny."

"Tits weren't the best I'd ever seen and she wasn't much of a conversationalist but -"

"Matt."

He snorts. "A bunch of them found me and Harry – more than we could handle by ourselves. We had to hide for a few hours until they went away. But we're fine, I promise."

She sighs, clearly swallowing back several remarks, and finally decides on, "Did you find anything?"

"Not really." He slides under the blanket and Alex moves over to make room but they still wind up pressed right against each other, the swell of her breasts flush against his chest. He fights back a shudder. "The usual – tinned food, clothes, shoes, condoms."

"Condoms? What on earth are you scavenging condoms for?"

"Because apocalypse or not, people still want to have sex, Kingston," he says, struggling not to physically react to either her closeness or this conversation. "They'd just like the luxury of not bringing a kid into this hell, yeah?"

Her breathing hitches. "Oh."

He smoothes her hair from her forehead and presses a kiss there. "Get some sleep."

Settling in more snugly against him, her head on his chest and one leg between his, Alex sighs as he wraps an arm around her waist and buries his face in her hair. "I signed up for rotations," she whispers. "I start in the morning."

He toys with a curl tickling his cheek and nods. "You'll be glad you did," he promises softly. "It'll keep you busy."

"That's what I'm counting on."

He opens his mouth to respond but his eyes have grown so heavy, and his tongue feels like a lead weight in his mouth. His eyes drift shut and he inhales deeply, breathing in the unmistakable scent of Alex as sleep takes him.

In the morning, she's gone and Matt wakes still scrunched up on his side of the small cot, as if his body anticipated her return. He waits for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, before finally rousing himself and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to put on his boots. "Another day in dystopia," he mutters.

He isn't going out today so he decides to spend his time looking after some of the orphans in the other sector. Children were left without mothers and fathers after the outbreaks and they'd taken in as many as they could find but unfortunately, that hadn't been many. There were so few survivors. But his favorite days are ones he gets to spend with the kids. They remind him that not all is lost – there is still a future. He works every day to make sure of it, for them.

"Matty!"

He breaks into a wide grin as he steps into the room and two little girls squeal, running toward him. They're the youngest of the orphans and he tends to dote on them whenever he can. They throw themselves at his legs and he almost stumbles, laughing as he bends to scoop up one and settle her on his hip. The older children hang back, watching him with smiles but willing to wait their turn.

"Here are my favorite girls! Have you been behaving?"

Fiddling with his hair, Holly nods solemnly. "We've been very good. Cause you said we'd get a surprise next time."

He laughs. "Oh, I did, didn't I?"

Still clinging to his legs, Olive tugs at his trousers. "Did you bring it?"

"Bring what?"

She huffs. "The surprise!"

"Oh!" He feigns confusion and pats his pockets. "Where did I put it?" Out of the corner of his eye, he spots the dark-skinned little nymph constantly lurking in the background when he visits, too hesitant to approach but always wanting to join in. "Grace!" He says jovially, watching her eyes widen. "Have you seen my surprise?"

The five-year-old shakes her head silently, blushing at the attention.

Olive tugs on his trousers again, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "We saw you bring in a lady."

Matt stops looking for their surprise and puts Holly back on her feet before settling on the floor, allowing Olive to clamber onto his lap. Grace lingers just outside of his grasp, still unsure around just about everyone, including him. Holly climbs onto his back and wraps her arms around his neck, hanging off him like a little monkey. For a three-year-old, she's surprisingly agile. Matt struggles to breathe as her small hands nearly crush his windpipe, reaching up to grasp her hands so she can hold into his fingers instead. "Yes, I did bring in a lady."

Olive prods his knee. "Was she okay?"

He nods.

"She's not gonna be -" Olive makes the scariest face she can muster, the freckles around her eyes and nose scrunching up, and curls her hands into claws.

Matt struggles between horror and the urge to laugh. "No, she's not infected," he reassures them. "That was my friend Alex. I knew her before… before we all came to live here."

"Is she nice?" Holly asks, still trying to climb his back, her little voice right in his ear.

"She's lovely," he says.

"How come you didn't bring her here?"

He sighs. "Because I didn't think it would be good for her right now."

"Why not?"

"Because she used to have a little girl too," he says softly.

Olive bites her lip. "Did she get infected?"

"Yes, I think so." Alex has never told him and he could never bring himself to ask. He doesn't want to know what happened to little Sal, who used to smile shyly at him and squeal with glee when he tickled her. "I think seeing you all would make Alex miss her own little girl. And I don't want to make her sad."

"Is it cause you love her?"

He sputters. "What?"

Olive crosses her arms and regards him suspiciously. "Is she your girlfriend, Matty?"

"Blimey, all these questions," he laughs, cheeks turning pink. "Have you been rehearsing this little interrogation?"

Holly giggles. "She's just askin' cause she wants to be your girlfriend."

Olive stamps her foot. "I do not!"

Grinning, Matt reaches behind him and grasps Holly by her arms, turning her upside down and yanking her over his shoulder and onto his lap, delighting in her shriek of laughter. "You're all my best girls, yeah? Now come on, help me figure out how to play with this thing -" He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a baby doll. It's missing an eye and its clothes are charred but it's the only toy they've had since he found a few Barbies nearly a year ago.

Holly and Olive scream in delight, bouncing around and scrambling to take it from him first. "Oi, share!" He laughs, leaving them to fight it out as he rummages through his satchel again. Still standing off to the side and watching everyone quietly, Grace makes no attempt to play with the doll but he can see she wants to. "C'mere, Gracie."

She starts at the name, turning to blink at him with wide eyes.

He grins. "Yeah, you. Come here."

Warily, she approaches him, hands folded behind her back.

Putting a finger to his lips, he winks at her and pulls out raggedy cloth doll, limp in his grasp. It's dirty and the yarn hair is colorless and singed but Grace lights up. "Our little secret," he says, and pushes it into her small hands.

Biting her lip, she squashes the doll to her chest and scurries off, probably to squirrel it away where the other children won't find it. Matt watches her go with a sigh, wishing there was some way to pull her out of her shell. Grace is different though – just old enough to remember her parents but not quite old enough to understand how to cope with the loss. He'll just have to keep trying.

By the time he leaves the kids and goes back to his own sector, it's almost time for dinner. One quick glance in the canteen reveals that Alex and Harry aren't there yet and he grips the strap of his satchel, going off in search of them. It takes a bit of asking around but eventually he finds both of them sitting on the floor in the armory together and talking quietly. Arms wrapped around her legs drawn up to her chest, Alex watches Harry polish the rifle balanced on his knees with enough interest to spark Matt's suspicion.

"Could I use one of these?"

Harry shrugs. "If you're authorized, sure. Security's pretty tight otherwise."

Her eyes flicker from Harry's face and back to the gun, and the look of pure want on her face makes Matt's stomach clench. "How do you get authorized?"

"Paperwork, lessons, mental evaluation." Harry ticks the list off with his fingers, glancing up with narrowed eyes. "Why do you ask?"

She shrugs. "Just curious."

Harry eyes her like he doesn't believe her for a second. "Alex, look. I know things haven't been easy for you -"

"I'm fine, Harry." She smiles brightly but it doesn't come close to reaching her eyes. "Really."

Deciding now is as good a time as any to reveal himself, Matt clears his throat and watches them both jump, turning to the doorway. "Blimey, such guilty looks," he teases. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nah, we finished ages ago, mate." Harry winks at Alex, who shoves half-heartedly at him, her smile a little more genuine now.

"Feel like a nightcap then?"

Harry snorts. "Don't be a bastard."

"Who's being a bastard?" Matt lifts the bottle of wine from his satchel with a smirk. "Look what I found yesterday."

Alex giggles and Harry's eyes widen comically. "Oh, you prick. How did you - I was with you the whole time!"

"I have my ways," Matt boasts, grinning. "Shall we take this somewhere we won't be mobbed?"

Harry hops to his feet and snatches the bottle from him, cradling it to his chest like a long lost child. "Hello," he coos. "Daddy missed you."

Rolling his eyes, Matt steps forward to reach out a hand, helping Alex to her feet. She laces their fingers together, avoiding his gaze even as she lingers near him, the heat of her body warming his side. "Where to then?" She asks.

He and Harry exchange a glance. "Surveillance?"

"Surveillance."

During dinner hour, the security of the surveillance room is subpar at best. Harry goes first, making a bit of a racket to distract from Matt slipping into the room with Alex clinging to his hand, both of them hurrying up the ladder in the back of the room to reach the balcony overlooking the video feed – well, not so much a balcony as an unfinished ledge just wide enough to sit on. The bunker corridors and the area surrounding their hideout outside are monitored at all times and from the ledge, they can see every screen. It makes for splendid entertainment if one can sneak in.

Hunkering down with Alex, Matt pulls out the bottle and uncorks it with his pocketknife, passing the wine to her so she can have a drink before Harry clambers up and monopolizes their only source of alcohol. "Do you two do this often?" Alex asks, looking amused.

Matt grins, watching her take a slow sip, her eyes fluttering as she swallows. "Only when we can find a bottle in the wreckage. Doesn't happen as often as we'd like."

"And you never share it with the others?" She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and passes him the bottle. Below, they can hear Harry scrambling up the ladder, cursing under his breath.

"I consider it my reward," he reasons. "For risking my neck for a bit of tinned food."

Heaving himself up onto the balcony as Matt takes a long pull from the bottle, relishing the burn of warm wine down his throat, Harry scowls. "Oi, started without me, have you?"

"Shut up and drink." Matt shoves the bottle at him.

On the video feed, they watch people line up in the canteen for dinner.

Harry squints at the screen. "What's the delicacy tonight? Rat?"

"You wish." Matt snorts, elbowing him into passing the bottle back to Alex.

She takes a small sip, idly scanning the monitors until her eyes alight on something interesting. She stiffens, her whole frame going taut, and Matt steals a concerned glance, following her line of sight until he sees what she's staring at. In a deserted corridor in the neighboring sector of the compound, Holly and Olive are hopping about with their new toy, taking turns dancing the doll around.

Matt presses a hand to her knee. "Alex?"

She doesn't take her eyes off the screen. "There are children here?"

"Some."

"How many?"

He sighs. "About a dozen."

Her eyes fill up. "So few."

"There are likely more," he soothes. "In other shelters."

"Not enough." She curls her fingers around the neck of the bottle and lifts it to her lips, taking another longer sip. Usually a selfish prick when it comes to their precious few drops of alcohol, Harry even doesn't object.

Alex passes it back to them and looks away from the monitor, managing a smile. For a while, Matt thinks she might actually be okay and the more she drinks, the more affectionate she becomes. She snuggles into his side and holds his hand, presses numerous kisses to the line of his jaw, her breath warm and wine-scented when she leans in. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and keeps her close, remembering how giggly she used to get when she'd had too much to drink. He remembers late nights in their shared flats in Cardiff, Alex warm and laughing in his arms as they danced clumsily to some record Darvill put on. She was constantly touching him, flirting obscenely. He was always tempted, always longed to just kiss her sober. He never did.

"You know, I think I might actually murder someone for a fag," Harry muses aloud. "I mean, literally."

Matt rolls his eyes. "Just roll your own, for Christ's sake."

"Still need bleedin' tobacco, don't I?" Harry scowls, scratching in annoyance at his scruffy cheek.

"They're sending a party out in a few weeks for supplies at the next shelter. Go with them – never know what they might have."

"Or," Harry holds up a hand, his blue eyes slightly unfocused. "You could stop scouting for tins of food and bloody prioritize -"

They both pause in the middle of bickering at the sound of a sniffle, slowly turning their heads. Alex sits staring at her lap, bottle of wine clutched to her chest and tears streaming down her face. She doesn't seem to be aware of either of them anymore, just sitting there and crying silently.

Carefully, Matt reaches out and pries the bottle from her, handing it wordlessly to Harry. Taking Alex's hand, he says softly, "Come on, sweetheart. It's time for bed."

He goes down the ladder first and the last thing he sees before disappearing down the ledge is Harry downing the last few drops and watching them leave with pity. Alex follows right behind him, climbing a bit clumsily, and Matt hovers beneath her in hopes of being able to catch her should she lose her footing. She manages admirably until she reaches the bottom, when her knees give out from under her.

As he scoops her up, stomach twisting at how light she is, Alex's head droops to his shoulder as she slurs, "M'sorry, darling. M'sorry."

He shakes his head, carrying her out of the surveillance room amidst stares, and out into the dim corridor. "My fault, Kingston," he says. "Never should have let you drink on an empty stomach."

Still crying, she mumbles, "I'm not hungry."

"I know." He tightens his grip on her, slipping into their sleeping quarters and navigating around all the occupied cots. "You never are anymore."

He walks right past her cot and carries her to his, pulling back the blanket and slipping her beneath it. She curls up into a tight ball, sniffling. Matt settles on the edge of the cot and watches her grimly, brushing the hair from her face. She looks less and less like his Alex as the days go by. He thought she would get better here. He thought he could be for her what he'd been for Harry.

Stomach wrenching, Matt leans down to brush a kiss across her forehead. Already asleep, she doesn't stir. His mind drifts back to where he'd found her earlier in the armory, looking at the gun in Harry's possession with a twisted sort of lust. He'd wanted to pull her away, to shield her from her own thoughts. "Not on my watch, Kingston," he promises. "You're safe with me. Even from yourself."

we'll find our own way home somehow

Chapter Summary

"Some people are making an overnight trip to another bunker for supplies," she says. "I volunteered to go with them."

He blinks, mouth hardening into a thin, stubborn line. "Out of the question."

Chapter Notes

Chapter title from Papillon by the Editors.

After another morning of watching Alex push her breakfast around her plate and eventually give it to Harry, Matt leaves the canteen early, hands balled into fists and jaw clenched. Every day, she grows thinner. Her collarbones and her cheekbones have gained a sharp prominence that was never there before. Alex was always soft curves and now she is all angles and jutting bones. Watching her deteriorate right in front of him is enough to make him sick to his stomach.

He spends a few hours in the armory, inspecting the guns and making sure they have plenty of ammunition, checking up on people who have taken out a gun and haven't returned it yet. He feels a bit like a librarian but the mindless work is just what he needs to stop worrying about Alex for a while. Several people come in to take a few guns and some extra ammunition and Matt spends a lot of time helping them sign out the weapons. They've slowly stockpiled their arsenal and the supply they have is precious – they do their best to make sure it always returns to them. Part of that is always knowing who has what.

By the time the large party leaves, he feels calm enough to wander back to his friends. As he makes his way to his sleeping quarters in hopes of finding Alex, he discovers the corridors a sea of activity. The same people who had checked out guns earlier are bustling about with knapsacks, packing extra rations, water, and clothes. He has no idea what they're doing and he doesn't care to ask until he finally makes his way to his cot and finds Alex already there, in the middle of packing. The sleeping quarters are empty, as they usually are during the day. People have too many chores to tend to – napping is a luxury not many can afford.

Matt stops just short of reaching her, staring as she stuffs a canteen of water into her ragged knapsack, right next to the only other set of clothes she has – a pair of holey jeans and a white, oil-stained t-shirt. "Kingston?"

She jumps, turning to glance at him over her shoulder with wide eyes. "Matt," she says, sounding startled. He watches her try to maneuver her knapsack out of his line of sight. "You scared me."

He doesn't apologize. "What are you doing?"

Her back stiffens and she turns away again. He watches her continue to adjust the few belongings she has, her shoulders a tense line. "Some people are making an overnight trip to another bunker for supplies," she says lightly. "I volunteered to go with them."

He blinks, mouth hardening into a thin, stubborn line. "Out of the question."

Alex snorts out a quiet laugh of disbelief and stops fiddling with her bag. Turning to face him with a look of incredulity, she places a hand on her hip – no longer soft and rounded, but as angular as Kaz used to be. "I don't believe I asked for your permission, Matt."

"I don't care," he says, standing a little taller and looking her in the eye. "I'm not letting you go with them."

"And why not?" She glares. "Not that you can stop me."

"You're not ready."

"And since when is that for you to decide? You don't own me, Matt -" She stops, tears welling in her eyes. "I need to get out of here. I have to."

He shakes his head, eyes stinging, and purses his lips. He knows she's been doing her best to keep herself occupied. She's been doing her rotations faithfully and while it keeps her busy physically, her mind isn't occupied the way it needs to be. She performs her duties with her thoughts elsewhere – on Salome, on everything that she has been through and everything that she has lost. She isn't getting any better like this. But he can't let her go now, not when she's still so quiet and still grieving so deeply. She hasn't eaten properly since the first night she arrived. One swipe of an infected's arm would be enough to snap her in two.

What truly worries him is more than that. It's the hollowness of her eyes. That light that used to shine from Alex like some sort of internal radiance is gone, sapped away along with the fight in her. She never fights him anymore. If he asks her to eat another bite, she will, chewing mindlessly. If he tells her to get some sleep, she closes her eyes like an obedient doll. There is no life left in

Alex and until he sees it again, he can't let her out of his sight and he certainly can't let her wander outside where she could be killed. What really terrifies him is that he doesn't think she would try to stop it. She wouldn't fight off an infected – she would embrace her death with open arms and a smile on her face. He cannot deal with another loss. Not Alex.

"I can't let you go out there, sweetheart," he says gently. "Not like this."

"Like what?"

"This!" He gestures to her helplessly. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? You're withering away to nothing, Alex! A strong wind could knock you over and you think I'm going to let you wander outside where a fucking infected could -"

"Don't feed me that utter bullshit, Matthew," she snaps, scowling. It's the first time he's seen her look truly passionate about anything since he found her. "There are women going on this trip who could pass for bloody pixies they're so small! I don't see you stopping them from going -"

"Because they're not on a sodding suicide mission!" He shouts, stunning her into silence. "You think I care what anyone else does? I care about you, Alex! And I'm the only one left who does."

"Yes," she snarls, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Thank you for reminding me."

He swears softly, stepping into her space and crowding her until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the cot behind her. "I'm just trying to look after you, Kingston. Do you think Salome would want this for you?"

She slaps him.

Matt barely flinches, his cheek stinging smartly as Alex gazes up at him, eyes burning. "Don't you dare," she breathes. "Don't you fucking dare tell me what my daughter would have wanted. You have no idea -" She raises her hand again but he catches her wrist, then the other when she tries to use it instead. Capturing both wrists and wrapping his long fingers around them, he holds her against him and uses his free hand to grasp her chin. She fights him, finally, and begins to resist his hold, angry tears on her cheeks.

Ducking his head, Matt stills her struggle with a rough, biting kiss. She freezes against him for a

long moment, lips motionless against the harsh slide of his. When he's just about to resign himself to pulling away and receiving another slap, she moans ever so softly and forces her head up, back arching as she opens her mouth and kisses him back. He releases her wrists, yanking her closer and cupping her face in his hands, thumbs brushing the sharpness of her cheekbones as his mouth devours her. He can taste the salt of her tears on his tongue and for a moment, he almost hesitates. All it would take is one shove at his chest, one no and he would stumble away from her but as he nips at her bottom lip – violent, bruising little kisses delivered like physical blows – Alex curls her hands into his shirt and tugs, a silent plea for more.

He pulls away panting hard, pressing his forehead tightly against hers. "I can't lose you," he confesses roughly. "You're all I have left, do you understand? And I will not let you destroy yourself out of some misguided attempt to receive penance for surviving when your daughter didn't."

She bites back a sob and slaps him again, but she soothes it just as quickly, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt to drag him down to her. Grip biting into her hips, Matt turns and shoves her against the wall, pressing along the length of her with a groan. Alex arches against him, leg slipping between his to rub the growing ache in his trousers. He hisses against her lips, hands slipping beneath her thin top to stroke bare skin, his fingers skimming her sides hard enough to leave bruises.

Alex moans and he drops his head, sucking at her neck. Her skin smells like cheap soap but she's still soft here and beneath the tang of dankness and dust, he can taste the essence of what makes her Alex. Her hands shake as she struggles with the button and the zip on his trousers but he bites the side of her throat and offers no assistance. It will leave a mark, a deep, stark red reminder that she still has someone who needs her.

"Matt," she whispers, abandoning his trousers and sliding her hands beneath his t-shirt. Her nails scrape along his spine with all the gentleness of a razorblade and he swears into her hair, hips bucking. "Please."

He grunts a reply, lifting his head to steal another greedy, hard kiss that leaves her breathless. He doesn't give his hands the chance to tremble as he undoes her trousers and shoves them down along with her knickers. Alex kicks them away, breathing harshly, and spreads her legs. She looks desperate, lips red and swollen, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glittering. She finally looks alive.

He kisses her again, no gentler than the last because violence seems to be the only thing that will get through to her right now, and slides a hand between her damp thighs. One stroke of his fingers through her folds and he finds her soaking wet. "Is this what you want, hm? Look at me, Kingston." She lifts fluttering green eyes to his and he feels her arousal seeping from her core and coating his fingers as she nods once. He breathes out a quiet whimper and slips them inside her.

Alex parts her lips in a silent cry, head thrown back and hips lifting to drive him deeper. "Oh god," she breathes. "Yes." He begins his assault on her neck once more, mouthing red marks all along her throat while she gasps with every flick of his wrist. Her nails dig into his biceps and his muscles flex beneath her grip. "Matt, god -"

"Shh." He wants nothing more than to hear her shout loud enough to shake the heavens but there are people milling about just outside and anyone could walk in at any moment. "Quiet, Kingston."

"You be quiet," she snaps, hips rolling against his hand, a whine in her throat. "And get inside me."

He slips his fingers from within her and fumbles with his trousers, shoving them down around his thighs. Alex grips his shoulders as he lifts her, pressing her into the wall. She wraps her legs around his waist, reaching between them to curl her small hand around his cock. "Oh Christ, Alex," he hisses through his teeth and tilts his hips as she guides him to the heat between her thighs, shoving up and into the wet, clasping hollow of her cunt. There is nothing but roaring white noise in his ears as he fills her but Alex gives him no time to adjust, rolling her hips and fucking herself on him, obscene, quiet little moans escaping her lips.

Swearing through clenched teeth, Matt grips her to him and starts to thrust, deep satisfying strokes that make his head spin. Alex threads her fingers through his hair and moves with him, as unyielding as stone beneath his hands. Grunting, he rocks up into her, slamming his hips over and over again just to hear the quiet gasp that rattles in her throat. Her nails dig into his scalp and the back of his neck but he barely feels it. All that matters is that she's here – she isn't off in her own head, staring into space. She is alive and writhing under his touch, rasping his name against the shell of his ear. Matt never falters, like he can anchor her to the present if he just fucks her hard enough.

His balls draw up and tighten, heavy with arousal, and he buries his face in the crook of Alex's neck, breathing in the sweet, sticky scent of her sweat. "Alex," he mumbles, gripping her desperately. "Going to -"

She nods, a hand slithering between their violently clashing bodies to find her clit. She rubs her fingers against herself once, twice, and then her whole body gives a shuddering jerk. Her mouth drops open and she shuts her eyes. Legs tightening around his waist as she comes, she draws in breath like a drowning victim's last precious gasp of air. Nosing at her curls, Matt grips her to him and focuses on nothing but the tight fluttering around his cock. His hips stutter erratically as he lets go, spilling inside her with a quiet cry.

Alex says nothing as he catches his breath but he can hear her sniffling. Slowly, he lifts his head from her shoulder and looks at her, almost fearful of what he might see in the aftermath. Her eyes are watery but she hasn't retreated back into her own head just yet. She looks present, at least.

She's still here with him.

Gently, he slips out of her and helps her back to her feet. Her legs slip from around his waist and she doesn't look at him as he steadies her. "Alright?"

She nods. "Fine. I – thank you."

He isn't quite sure what she's thanking him for but he nods anyway. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

Still avoiding eye contact, Alex moves to retrieve her knickers and slips them back on. Silence stretches wide between them as Matt tucks himself back into his pants and zips his trousers, watching Alex tug her jeans back on and up. He wants to say something, anything to make this less awkward. He wants to gather her into his arms and kiss her, tell her he's wanted to do that since practically the moment he met her. He wants to tell her that he's only trying to keep her safe, not keep her prisoner. Somehow, he doubts Alex would be receptive to any of that right now.

She turns to face him, tucking her curls behind her ears and blushing faintly. "I'm just going to -" She doesn't even bother to finish her sentence, moving to dart past him, but Matt stops her, circling a hand quickly around her wrist.

"Alex -"

She sighs quietly, her breath sounding shaky. "I want to be alone for a while," she admits softly.

He flinches. "Right. Okay."

Alex softens when he releases her, grasping his hand for a moment, before turning and slipping from the room. She walks right past her knapsack still lying half-packed on the cot. He doesn't see her for the rest of the afternoon but he looks for her in the party that leaves on the trip to the nearest compound for supplies. Alex isn't with them.

It's only at dinner that she finally shows herself, arriving a few minutes late and sinking into the seat next to Harry across from Matt. He doesn't ask her where she's been all day and she doesn't

offer the information freely. "Kingston," he greets quietly instead.

She manages a weak smile and drops her eyes to her plate.

Harry glances between them with a frown, raises an eyebrow, and shrugs. "So," he says, voice unnaturally loud in the thick silence Matt and Alex have cultivated. "Where have you been today, then?"

Alex starts when he elbows her, eyes going wide. "Nowhere."

"Nowhere." Harry squints, stroking his chin. "Never been there. Did they build a new wing and fail to tell me about it?"

She rolls her eyes and he grins loftily at her, waiting until she isn't looking to drop a few extra slices of cheese onto her plate. Matt nods his thanks and Harry waves him away. "I just did a bit of exploring. Well, all the places I could get into without being patted down by security."

"Really? That's the best part." Harry winks.

To Matt's surprise and utter delight, Alex stifles a smile. "Perhaps next time."

"Any particular reason you decided to disappear on your own all day?" Harry eyes her with playful suspicion and Matt swallows hard, watching her glance hurriedly away.

As if she doesn't know what else to do with her hands, she picks up a bit of cheese and nibbles on it, following it with a long, slow sip of water. It isn't much but it's something, at least. "I had to do something to keep myself occupied, since I'm being kept inside like a pet."

Matt lifts his eyes to hers. "That isn't why I asked you to stay and you know it."

"Except you didn't ask me to stay, did you? You told me I was."

"Would you have listened otherwise?"

"No, probably not. But I have a feeling you would have known exactly how to get my attention." Alex pushes away her plate. "Excuse me. I'm not very hungry."

"You've barely touched your dinner -"

"I said I'm not hungry."

Harry clears his throat. "Alex, love -"

"Take your portion back, Harry," she says, laying a soothing hand on his shoulder. "I won't be eating it." She rises from her seat and flees the canteen before Matt can even make the attempt to call after her.

He moves to follow but Harry shakes his head. "Leave her."

"She's upset, Harry."

"Yeah, and you need to give her some space."

Matt scowls. "She's had space all bloody day."

"Not all day." Harry quirks a brow. "Want to tell me about the glaring red hickey on her neck?"

Flushing, Matt drops his eyes back to his plate. "I didn't see anything." He hadn't actually. He'd been far too focused on Alex's determination to ignore him to bother paying attention to anything else.

Harry snorts. "Right, and you know nothing about it, is that it?"

"It's none of your bloody business," he snaps, stabbing at the questionable meat on his plate.

"It's my business when I have to look at the fucking territory mark on her neck while I eat my dinner!" Harry huffs grumpily and shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, chewing with passion. "What happened?"

"Nothing." Matt shifts uncomfortably, shrugging. "I told her I didn't want her going out. I told her that Salome wouldn't want her trying to get herself killed as some twisted form of penance."

Harry winces.

"What? It's the truth and you know it is."

"Never said it wasn't."

"She slapped me."

He snorts. "So you what, snogged her in retaliation?"

Matt ducks his head.

Harry laughs. "Very smooth, Smith. God, I've got to sneak into surveillance tonight. I bet that tape is wank fodder of the fucking month."

Blushing furiously now, Matt buries his face in his hands. "Just sod off, Harry." He only glances up when he feels Harry prodding him with his fork, peeking at his friend through his fingers.

"You need to give her something to do." Harry eyes him pointedly. "And I don't mean you."

"God, you're an arse," Matt grumbles.

Harry flashes him a brief, proud smile before turning serious once more. "She isn't meant for this laundry and washing dishes shite. She'll go mad doing that all day every day."

"I couldn't let her go out there," he reasons. "You know what she's been like -"

"A walking corpse," Harry agrees. "You did the right thing, mate. For now. But something needs to change."

Harry's words echo in his head long after dinner and Matt retires to bed still thinking about it. On his way to his cot, he passes Alex in hers, eyes determinedly shut though he knows she isn't sleeping before lights are even out. He pauses, hovering at her bedside, his shadow falling over her face, but she resolutely ignores him, feigning slumber.

Sighing, he rakes his fingers through his short hair and climbs into his own cot, crawling beneath the thin blanket. For the first time since he found Alex and brought her here, he spends the entire night sleeping alone.

He jolts awake to the sound of Alex calling out for Salome, the note of tears in her voice obvious even from his cot across the room. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, wondering if she would even want his comfort. She used to come to him on nights like this, climbing onto his cot beside him and letting him wrap his arms around her. It's been a week since she attempted to leave and he refused to let her – a week since he potentially ruined everything.

"Sal, I'm here. Mummy's here -"

Sighing, Matt scrubs a hand over his face and sits up, squinting into the dark. He knows he can't be the only one awake and listening to Alex but no one moves or makes a noise of protest, too used to their own nightmares to fault anyone else for theirs. But no one makes an attempt to comfort her either and he can't stand doing nothing and listening to her cry out for her daughter. Whether Alex wants him or not, she has him.

He rises to his feet and starts shuffling in the dark toward her cot, and the closer he gets, the clearer it becomes that she's tossing and turning in her sleep, brow wrinkled in distress. He settles onto the edge of her cot and strokes the backs of his fingers over her forehead. "Shh, it's alright, Kingston," he soothes. "Wake up, sweetheart."

She flinches away from his hand, scrambling away from him in fear, but he sees the exact moment

she realizes where she is and whom she's with. "Matt?"

"Yeah." He brings his hand back to his lap awkwardly, unsure now that she's awake and looking at him. She's been doing her best to avoid him since what happened between them and he hasn't tried to push her, remembering Harry's warning to give her space. He trusted that she would come to him when she could look him in the eye again, and in the meantime, he's been struggling to find a way to help her. "Bad dream?"

Alex shakes her head, turning to wipe hurriedly beneath her eyes with a trembling hand. "Memory. The day I lost her."

She's never told him exactly what happened that day and he's never asked her. He isn't sure he wants the details. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

He fidgets, guiltily relieved. "Do you want me to go?"

Alex sniffles. "No."

He breathes out a quiet, grateful sigh and starts to fuss with her blanket. "Then I'll stay. But you need to sleep."

She nods, scooting back under her blanket and laying her head on the stiff pillow every refugee is provided with when they arrive. "You're leaving in the morning," she says softly.

Surprised she'd even heard his conversation with Harry at dinner considering how avidly she'd been studying her plate, Matt nods and smiles weakly. "I'll be back by dinner. Sleep."

Her eyes slide shut. "You'll be careful?"

"Always am." He strokes her curls from her face, heart clenching at the sight of tears still on her cheeks. "I didn't think you cared anymore."

"I do," she slurs tiredly. "Too much."

She's asleep before he can ask her what she means by that.

pass me that lovely little gun, my dear

Chapter Summary

Harry stays behind this time at Matt's insistence. He's too worried about Alex to just leave her on her own and he doesn't trust anyone else to look after her in his place. So he sets off alone just after sunrise with a canteen, a gun, and an empty satchel, hoping to return with a full bounty.

Chapter Notes

Chapter title from O Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Harry stays behind this time at Matt's insistence. He's too worried about Alex to just leave her on her own and he doesn't trust anyone else to look after her in his place. So he sets off alone just after sunrise with a canteen, a gun, and an empty satchel, hoping to return with a full bounty.

It's always difficult to venture aboveground and see the desecrated city he used to live in. Every time he stumbles out of the bunker and lands in the grass, he stands and stares around him with an ache in his chest, taking in the ravaged landscape where there used to be towering buildings and streets older than even his great great grandfather. The rubble stopped smoking long ago but he still sees it, can still remember the first time he laid eyes on what was left of his home. There is nothing left of London but the infected inhabitants and the bodies they've left behind.

Setting his jaw, Matt curls his fingers around his gun and starts walking. Over the horizon, the sun rises higher, shedding light on a new day, and Matt feels a little safer at the sight of it. Though the infected have no concept of night or day any longer and are aversely affected by neither, the daylight is an advantage for him. They may not be able to see a damn thing anymore – their blank, milky eyes haunt his sleep – but their hearing is superhuman. The less noise Matt makes, the safer he is.

He learned that the hard way, stumbling around in the dark one night and alerting every bloody infected within ten miles of his presence. He knows now sunlight is his friend. It's also the reason he likes to keep Harry far away when he goes out scavenging. While a great gun arm to have around, Matt's loud-mouthed best mate is usually the reason he needs another gun arm in the first place.

He finds some abandoned cars along the highway about an hour and a half into his journey and breaks into them, finding suitcases in the boot. He yanks them out and sets them carefully by the

roadside, dropping to his knees to rifle through strangers belongings. He finds canned food, bottles of water, cologne, toothbrushes, jewelry, a handful of pictures – he pointedly doesn't look at them

– and some shoes and clothes. He takes everything but the pictures, slipping it all into his oversized bag and feeling a bit of the pressure in his chest lift. No matter if he finds nothing else the rest of the day, he's bringing something back.

He walks for another hour, hearing the sound of snarling in the distance all the while. He listens carefully, a hand poised on his gun, but he stays quiet and far away from the noise. Thankfully, it's enough.

Along the way, he picks up odds and ends – a stray pillowcase, a kitchen knife, one glove, a glass bottle that somehow managed to escape being broken – anything at all that might be of use. He keeps an eye out for more alcohol and some cigarettes for Harry, toys for the girls, and something that might cheer up Alex and make her look him in the eye again. He actually manages to find a pack of cigarettes with about three still left and grins to himself, picturing Harry's expression when he sees them.

It's only when he wanders into what used to be a quiet neighborhood that he runs into trouble. Several infected are gathered around what looks to be the remains of a dead animal, growling and sniffing. Surprised to see such a large number together, Matt stumbles back and darts into the remains of what used to be a brick two story home. There isn't much left to it now and it looks like looters have already ravaged the place but if he crouches down and stays quiet, he might escape unharmed.

He almost manages.

He settles into the dirt and dust, gathering his satchel close against him, and prepares to wait however long it takes for them to wander away. This lasts all of ten seconds before he feels a familiar tingling in his nose and before he can even think to stifle it, he sneezes. "Fuck," he hisses, and then curses himself for speaking aloud.

Outside, he can hear them approaching, growling low in their throats.

He sighs, grips his gun, and jumps to his feet already shooting. They're faster than they like to let on and by the time he stands, they're almost face to face with him. He hits the first one right between the eyes and it screeches, dead before it hits the ground. The rest step right over it and Matt stumbles back, weapon still aimed at them as he steps behind the crumbling remains of a wall, instantly feeling a little better with something between them.

The rubble between him and them gives him an advantage – he can see it but they can't. They're

much more effective on open land, which is why it had been so surprising to see them in a little neighborhood like this one. They must have followed a food source all the way out here, likely that poor animal they'd all been gathered around. With obstacles in their way, they're a little slower, though still faster than any human. He fires again and again, picking them off one by one. It isn't until there's only one left and his gun clicks when he pulls that trigger that he realizes he's in trouble.

"Fuck," he says again, just before the last infected snarls and launches itself at him.

They hit the ground so hard Matt's teeth rattle in his head. He wraps his hands around the thing's throat to keep it from biting him, the muscles in his arms straining as he fights it off. Inwardly, he panics. Even if he does get control of the creature, what the hell is he going to do with it? He has no way of killing it.

It snarls, blank, white-eyed gaze squinted in mindless hatred. One long-clawed arm reaches out to swipe at him and Matt's heart skitters to a stop as he quickly twists and rolls them over before it can scratch him. Legs around its waist, he pins its arms above its head and stares down into its eyes, breathing hard. His mind races. Others would have heard those gunshots and followed the sound to its source – him. They could be here within minutes. And he's without a weapon to take care of even the one trapped beneath him.

He thinks of Alex, tearful and sleepy in her bed, asking him to be careful. He promised he'd be back by dinner. What will she do when he doesn't show up tonight? Who's going to look after her? Who's going to tell her he's been in love with her since she first laid a hand on his arm and called him darling? And Harry – Harry needs him, no matter how flippant he tries to be.

Matt feels helpless tears build behind his eyes, arms aching from holding back the violent struggle of the infected in his grasp, and grits his teeth. This isn't the end.

He starts to look around wildly for anything he could use, pressing a knee to the creature's chest to keep it in place while he uses his hands to frantically dig through the rubble surrounding them for anything he could use as a weapon. His satchel with his knife is where he left it – meters away. There's no way he can reach it from here.

He's about to give up, to hit the creature over the head and hope it passes out long enough for him to escape, when beneath the debris – crumbled brick, glass, trash, torn family photos – his fingers come in contact with something cool and metal. At first, he thinks it's his gun and closes his fingers around it, hoping maybe it'll work as a club to knock the infected unconscious for a while. When he brings it up to the light, he realizes it is in fact, a gun. But it isn't his.

Breath catching in his throat, Matt brings the muzzle of the semi-automatic between the creature's eyes, holds his breath in tentative hope, and fires. It cries out, a bloody gurgle in its throat, and stops struggling, limp beneath him. Matt rolls over and onto the ground next to it, heart pounding and chest heaving. Tiredly, he lifts a hand and kisses the gun in thanks.

He allows himself about half a minute to catch his breath before climbing to his feet again, clutching the new gun and stooping to pick up his old one. He snatches up his satchel and pulls out the kitchen knife and grips it in his fist. He gives the unmoving infected around him one last glance, and starts off again.

The encounter and subsequent spike in adrenaline has left him feeling drained and he decides he's managed to scavenge enough supplies for one day. He begins the long journey back to base with slow, heavy steps, and hopes he can make it before dark.

The trek back is without incident and he makes it to base just before dinner. He goes through security, deposits all of his findings with the people who catalogue that sort of thing – minus a few goodies he wants to distribute himself – and starts for the sleeping quarters for a change of clothes.

He meets Alex in the corridor on her way to dinner and she stops and stares at him, a hand to her chest. "My god," she breathes. "Darling, are you alright?"

Running a self-conscious hand through his filthy hair, Matt nods. "It looks worse than it is, I swear." He wraps a hand around her elbow and leans in close, ignoring the way she stiffens. "Walk with me?"

"I was going to the canteen -"

"Please?"

She hesitates, eyeing his dirty forearm, and nods quickly.

They walk in silence through the corridors, weaving through people on their way to line up for dinner, and finally make it back to the empty sleeping quarters. As soon as he reaches his cot, Matt peels off his bloody shirt and tosses it aside. Behind him, Alex coughs. He turns to look at her and finds her staring, wide-eyed. He rubs his neck self-consciously, wondering if she's looking at the scars. "Alright, Kingston?"

She flushes, glancing away. "Fine."

"They're old," he explains. "Haven't been seriously hurt in a few months."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

He shrugs, turning to pull out a clean shirt. "Sorry I dragged you back here," he says. "I had a bit of a rough day and I just wanted to look at you." He glances over his shoulder, grinning. "Can you blame me?"

She almost snorts. "You're far too charming for your own good, you know."

"Not as much as I'd like to be," he admits, trying to sound teasing. "One quick shag against a wall and you won't even look at me anymore. Was I that bad?"

She shakes her head, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "Stop it," she says. "Please."

"Alex -"

"You deserve better." Her eyes dart quickly up to his incredulous ones and then away again. "I'm too broken to bring you or anyone else any happiness."

He stares at her. "Kingston, that's insane. All you have to do is look at me and I'm happy. These past few weeks have been the happiest I've been since the outbreak and that's because of you, sweetheart."

"How? All I've done is disrupt your sleep and refuse to eat. I've been a burden -"

He kisses her – hard. Alex doesn't struggle, threading her hands through his dirty hair and whimpering, her body warm and pressed right against his. Matt nips at her bottom lip and kisses her chin. "You are anything but a burden," he says roughly. "Understand?"

She nods, pressing her face into the hollow of his throat, her fingers trailing up and down his bare

chest, tracing over scars. He fights back a shudder and kisses the top of her head. "I'm going to shower," he says, and swallows an invitation for her to join him. "Go to dinner with Harry."

Alex pulls away slowly and – his heart hopes – a little reluctantly as well. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Nothing a shower and a bit of food won't fix," he promises, reluctant to tell her exactly what happened today. "Save me a portion, yeah?"

She nods, casts him one last lingering look, and turns on her heel to head for the canteen. Matt watches her go, smiling a little, and goes to wash the grime from his body under the spray of an icy shower.

He washes quickly, dresses even faster, and by the time he makes it to the canteen, it's still filled with people. Harry sits with Alex and there's an empty chair with a plate of food on the table. Matt sinks into it with a grateful sigh, scratching at his damp hair. Alex looks up when he sits and actually meets his eyes, which is certainly an improvement, but she's still not eating much.

He winks at her and drops his eyes to his plate. "Blimey, I'm starving. I actually don't even care what the meat is made out of right now."

Harry snorts. "You haven't cared in years."

"Well, I especially don't care now, Treadaway," he grumbles around a mouthful. "Don't piss me off or you won't get your present."

Blue eyes lighting up, Harry drops his fork. "What is it?" He holds out a hand. "Wait, don't tell me. Is it a puppy?"

Alex actually giggles into her glass of water.

Forcing himself not to gape at her, Matt reaches into his trouser pocket and pulls out the cigarette pack, tossing it onto the table. Harry gasps and pounces on it like a dog with a juicy bone. He pauses to check that there are actually cigarettes inside before quickly tucking it away into the sleeve of his shirt before someone sees. Glancing up, he gazes at Matt with a disturbing amount of adoration and says, "I love you, mate."

"In a completely platonic, non-homoerotic way, yeah?"

Harry shakes his head, eyes wide. "No. I am actually a bit in love with you right now." He looks at Alex. "Sorry, love."

She flushes. "I don't exactly have a claim on him, dear."

"No, he's right." Matt glances at her slyly. "You kind of do."

Alex stares at him, but before she can reply, Harry leaps to his feet with a manic grin. "I'm going for a smoke."

Matt blinks up at him. "Where?"

"Where no sane person would possibly think to look – outside."

Sighing, Matt scarfs down the last of his food and says, "I'm going with you then, idiot."

Alex gapes at them. "Outside? You're going to venture out there in the dark for a fag?"

Harry grins. "Wanna come?"

She stands quickly. "Let me get my jacket."

Alex makes them go ahead without her and they pass security to climb up and out, breathing in the London air as they settle onto the grass. Harry slides the pack of fags from his sleeve and digs a match from his trouser pocket. Striking the match against the cigarette box, he lights his fag and flops back onto the grass, taking a long drag.

He lets out an obscene moan, breathing out smoke into the night air. "Oh god, this is better than sex."

Matt wrinkles his nose. "Can't say I agree."

"Well, that's because you've actually had sex recently."

He snorts. "Don't pretend like you weren't having it off with that kitchen girl a few months ago. Whatever happened with her, anyway?"

"Krista," Harry looks at him pointedly. "And I broke it off about two weeks ago."

"What? Why?"

"Because."

"Harry. Why?"

He takes his time answering, puffing on his cigarette. "Because while she was a lovely girl, she was not an Alex."

Matt glances at him sharply, horrified.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Smith. I'm not salivating after your girl."

"Then what the hell does that mean?"

"It means that Krista was fun to shag and she was a nice distraction but the more time I spent watching you stare at Alex like she hung the bloody moon and stars, the more I realized fun to shag just isn't enough for me anymore." He lifts his head from the grass to level Matt with a glare. "So thanks for that. Ruined a perfectly good arrangement."

Grinning, Matt reaches out a hand and ruffles his friend's blonde hair. "Harry, I think you're actually growing up."

"Took me long enough, eh?" He takes another long drag and turns his head from the night sky to look at Matt. "What happened today?"

Matt tenses, flexing his jaw. "Nothing."

Harry sighs. "Look mate, Alex may not know what you look like after a near death experience but I do. So what happened?"

Shrugging, he plucks at the blades of grass beneath his hands and says, "I ran out of bullets."

"You what?"

"I ran into a big group of them when I was out – they were in the suburbs of all places. I tried to be quiet but you know how I am, just can't help myself." He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. "I took them all out but the last one."

Harry sits up. "You were in the middle of a fucking shootout and you ran out of bullets? Jesus Christ, Matt -"

"I know, alright," he snaps. "I left without checking the gun and it was a stupid mistake. I know."

"What about your knife?"

"In the satchel I dropped."

"Jesus Christ, how the hell did you even get away?"

Matt offers him a faint grin. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me." He and Harry both jump, turning to look at Alex climbing out of the bunker, a thin jacket wrapped around her. She stands over him, curls falling into her face and her lips pursed

tightly. "You promised me you'd be careful."

Matt ducks his head. "It was an accident."

"Yes, an accident that almost got you killed," she snaps. "This is exactly why I wanted you to always take someone with you. Damn it, Matt – what would I have done if you hadn't come back?"

"But I did!" Matt climbs to his feet quickly and reaches for her, taking her hands in his. "I'm here, sweetheart. And I'm fine."

"For how long?" Her lower lip trembles. "Until the next time?"

"As long as you're with me, I think I'll be safe." Leaning in, Matt brushes a kiss against her nose and whispers, "No one will look after me like you do."

Alex blinks away tears. "What?"

Instead of answering, he pulls the gun he'd found today from the waistband of his trousers. "This gun saved my life today, Kingston. Now it's yours."

"Mine?" She stares at it blankly, only closing her fingers around it when he pushes it into her hands. "I don't understand."

"I'm going to teach you how to use it," he says, smiling when she looks up at him in surprise. "I'll feel much safer out there knowing you've got my back."

"Oh, darling." Her eyes fill up and she tightens her grip on the gun in her hands. "Really?"

He's been thinking about it all day and he's decided that maybe Alex needs the kind of distraction he'd needed – someone who depends on her and an important job to do. "I want you with me. We'll look after each other."

"Don't I need a mental evaluation before I'm allowed to use a weapon?"

"Usually. But I found this one today and I didn't turn it in. It's yours." He takes her chin in his hand and guides her to look up at him, his expression solemn. "I'm trusting you with this, Kingston. Don't make me regret it."

"Of course, darling," she nods hurriedly, eyes glistening and earnest. "I won't let you down."

"Good." He drops his hand uncertainly, about to step back, but Alex leans up on her tiptoes and presses a firm, grateful kiss to the corner of his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, Matt sees Harry look away with a grin, cigarette dangling between his lips. He wraps his arms around Alex and nuzzles his nose against her cheek.

"Thank you," she says quietly. "For saving my life, Matthew."

She already thanked him for that once before, but Matt stares into watery green eyes and realizes maybe she isn't just talking about the first time.

He promises her their very first lesson will take place after breakfast and Alex spends the duration of the meal fidgeting in her seat, legs crossed and foot bouncing, watching him avidly. Tired and sore from wrestling with the undead yesterday, Matt eyes her from across the table with wan amusement. "If you want to have a good lesson, you need to eat," he says. "Can't shoot on an empty stomach."

She sighs, looks at him like she knows what he's doing, and then proceeds to eat nearly everything on her plate anyway. His heart thrills at the sight and he spends the rest of their meal munching absently on toast and watching her eat with a silly grin. Finally, she pushes her plate away and looks at him expectantly. "Better?"

"Much."

Alex climbs to her feet and looks down at him almost gleefully, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't find the gun tucked into the waistband of her jeans unbearably sexy. "Well, let's go then."

He leads her to the facility they use for target practice, sending Harry away when he tries to follow. Alex will be nervous enough without him standing on the sidelines offering his smart arse commentary. The room is far from empty. Even people who never venture out want to be ready – they were caught off guard the first time and no one is keen to let it happen again. The only difference between Alex and them is that these people actually got the approval to use a firearm.

Hand to the small of her back, Matt pushes Alex gently along. Hopefully, if they look like they belong, no one will think to question them. He stops when they come to a free space and in front of them about fifty paces is the target – a makeshift dummy resembling an infected. He turns Alex towards it, hands settling on her shoulders, and speaks next to her ear. "Now, the first thing you want to do is keep your finger outside of the trigger guard until you're ready to shoot. When you're out there, it's easy to feel jumpy. If your finger slips and you're pointing your gun in the wrong direction, you could kill someone. And even if you don't, the noise will attract them. Got it?"

She nods shakily, curls brushing his mouth. "Got it."

"Good. Now, when you're ready to shoot -" He slides his hands down her arms and takes her hands in his, wrapping her fingers around the grip in the correct position. Alex stiffens but does not pull away, the warmth of her back against his chest a pleasant constant. "Make sure you hold on tight, yeah? Your hand should shake."

"Not a problem," she murmurs, and he grins when he realizes she's already trembling a little.

"Don't be scared," he says softly. "You can do this. Relax your grip a bit. Your hand should shake – not the gun. There you go, good. Alright, now use your other hand-" He pauses to take it in his, guiding it to the hand wrapped around the gun handle. "Cup your firing hand to steady your aim. Just like that, yeah." Alex swallows audibly and he realizes his voice may have dropped an octave or two as he spoke the last words. He clears his throat, determined to focus. "Make sure your feet are shoulder-width apart, with your right foot about a step in front of your left."

Still flustered, Alex moves her feet into the right position.

"Lean forward a bit, make sure you're balanced. Right arm straight, Kingston."

She huffs. "Honestly, darling. You sound like an instruction manual. Can't I just shoot already?"

"Would you like me to get someone else to teach you? I mean, they'll ask to see your evaluation slip but since you have one of those, it shouldn't be a problem. Oh wait-"

Alex eyes him over her shoulder balefully.

He holds up his hands, a peace offering. "I'm trying to make sure you know what you're doing out there, Kingston. One missed shot could mean your life or mine. Before I can even think about letting you come with me, I have to know that you can make the kill shot."

Her glower lessens, her whole face softening. "Fine," she says, flushing.

He smiles widely. "Ready to aim?"

She turns back to face the target. "Don't we need protective gear?"

He stares at her.

She huffs again and god, he shouldn't love her annoyance so much but it's like a drug after weeks of her blank stare. "You know, glasses and earplugs, that sort of thing?"

"Ah." He shrugs. "Maybe before but that sort of thing is a luxury now. You'll have to make do like the rest of us, Kingston. Now aim and try not to shoot your eye out." Visibly biting back a retort, Alex tightens her grip on her gun, returning to the stance he'd shown her, right foot forward a step, left hand steadying her aim. "Good. Now look through your dominant eye and close the other. Look even?"

"I think so."

"Well then, fire away." He reaches out at the last moment and covers her ears for her teasingly. As the bullet hits the neck of the target in the distance, Alex reaches up and swats at him. "Not bad. I mean, it isn't dead and still coming after you but -"

"Oh, shut up Matthew," she snaps, swallowing an actual, genuine smile.

He glows, bouncing a bit on his toes. "Try it again."

And she does. Again and again.

After the sixth time she misses, Alex drops her arm and swears a blue streak. "This is ridiculous," she says. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Keep your focus on the front sight," he says for the third time in as many minutes. "Stop concentrating on the target. And for god's sake, remember to breathe, Kingston."

"I am!"

Sighing patiently, Matt steps up behind her and takes her hands in his, guiding her aim. She stiffens at once and he frowns. "Just trying to help, you know," he mutters.

"I know." She relaxes marginally, her warm back sinking against his chest. "Sorry."

"S'fine," he says, shaking off the urge to do something stupid like kiss her neck. "Now, look through your dominant eye, like I told you." She closes one eye, squinting. "Good. Focus on your front sight. It should be just below where you want your shot. Put your finger in the trigger guard, and…"

The shot hits the target in the forehead – dead center.

Alex squeaks with delight, dropping her arm and turning to face him, throwing herself at him. "I did it! Darling, did you see that?"

He laughs, wrapping her up and kissing her temple. "Knew you could handle it. Now do it again."

He makes her practice until she can hit the target in the exact same spot five times in a row. Alex

is a flushed, irritable vision by the time they finish but he refuses to let her leave until she also knows how to load the gun and then empty it safely. She skips dinner to sleep and he lets her only because he can't be sure she won't use her newfound skills on him if he pushes her any more today.

Dinner is quieter without her and Harry attempts to make up for it by being more obnoxious than usual. Matt pretends he doesn't notice but offers Harry some of his portion in thanks and tells him about Alex's success in their makeshift shooting range. Alex is asleep when he makes it back to the sleeping quarters and he spares a quick, fond glance at her sprawled form before moving on to his cot and crawling beneath the blanket.

His sleep, though deep and nightmare free for once, is short-lived. He wakes to a small hand on his shoulder and Alex whispering, "Darling, are you awake?"

"Am now," he grumbles sleepily, but she slides beneath the blanket with him and any further complaints stall in his throat. "Alex?"

She curls herself into his side, arm wrapped around his waist. "I'm sorry," she says quietly.

He frowns. "For what?"

"For ignoring you after…" Even in the dark, he can tell she's blushing. "I just didn't know what to do. I can't offer you anything."

He wraps his arms around her small frame. "Kingston, we've talked about this -"

"I know." She props her chin up on his chest. "And I still believe you're wrong. But… I also know that I miss you."

"Alex -"

Before he can say another word, she surges forward and kisses him. For a moment, he can do nothing but lay there in shock. It's always been him pursuing her – even before the world went to hell in a hand basket – it was always Matt pursuing the unattainable Alex Kingston. And now she's here, practically lying on top of him on this small cot, her mouth warm and soft and willing against his.

He groans quietly into her mouth and wraps her curls around his hand, lips parting eagerly against hers to allow her tongue to slip inside and slide hotly against his own. Christ, she tastes amazing. He strokes his tongue over the roof of her mouth and her perfect teeth, wondering what she might taste like everywhere else. Alex takes his hand and slips it beneath her shirt. He splays his fingers over her abdomen and nips at her bottom lip. "Alex, are you sure?" They've only just started speaking to each other. The last thing he wants is to fuck it all up again.

She leans back to stare at him, eyes wide. "I'm not sure about anything anymore," she whispers. "But I know I'm not going anywhere, not this time."

It's easy to forget about all the sleeping people around him when Alex is looking at him like that and her bare skin is warm and soft under his palm. He strokes a hand up her side and cups her breast, dragging her head down to crash his mouth against hers. His thumb brushes lightly across her nipple and she sighs quietly, threading her fingers through his hair.

Pressing the length of his body alongside hers, he leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses along her throat and across her collarbones, stopping when he reaches the collar of her t-shirt. Fumbling between them, he rucks it up over her breasts, baring them to the cool air. Alex sucks in a quiet breath as her nipples harden and Matt ducks his head, mouth open to capture one between his teeth.

She whimpers and he nips at the plump, smooth skin of her breast in warning. She strokes a thumb over his forehead, arching into his mouth. He cups her in his palms, wishing he could tell her how perfect they are, how good they feel in his hands. Instead, he takes her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, teasing her as he laves his tongue down the soft valley between her breasts.

Never one to be idle, Alex slips small, warm hands into his trousers and wraps her fingers around his length. He hisses into her breast, hot and hard in the palm of her hand. She starts to stroke and for a moment, his brain short circuits. "Wait," he manages to choke out. Alex ignores him, teeth sinking into the line of his jaw teasingly as her thumb circles the head of his prick. He trembles, frantically yanking at her pajama bottoms before she manages to bring him off.

The moment her trousers are down, Alex throws a leg over his hip, guiding his throbbing erection to the heat between her thighs. "Fuck," he whispers, lifting his hips.

"Shh," she says mockingly, uncharacteristic laughter in her voice.

He nudges at her entrance and she snaps her mouth shut against a moan, her breath hitching. She pushes down, hand still on his cock, and slowly, he slips into her. Breath coming fast already, Matt swallows a guttural groan and watches Alex bite her lip hard in an effort to remain silent. He takes her hand, linking their fingers together as he pushes the rest of the way in and fills her up, both of them clinging to each other and shaking. He buries his face in her hair, struggling not to just come inside the tight warmth of her body before his first thrust. Christ, she makes him feel like a randy teenage boy again.

Alex brings their joined hands up to her lips and kisses his knuckles, hips nudging against his. Matt presses back against her and slowly, they find a rhythm that works, a gradual sliding back and forth as they lie side by side and stare into each other's eyes. They can't speak or moan or ask for yes more please but they share the same hot breath between them and every time he presses into her, he can see her mouth tremble. He can see the emotion in her eyes every time he squeezes her fingers. Somehow, all of this is better than words.

They rock against each other in silence, Matt dying a slow death every time he pulls out only to have Alex revive him with every push of his cock between her wet folds. She feels like silk around him and he wants to tell her so but instead, he wraps his hand around her thigh and starts to move harder and deeper, relishing her strangled cry.

The faster pace makes the cot squeak and from across the room, Mat hears someone turn over in their sleep, muttering discontentedly. Alex freezes but he kisses her softly, slowing his thrusts until the cot falls silent once more. Around his cock, the silken flutter of muscles lets him know that she's close and he slips a hand between their bodies to find her clit. It's swollen and sensitive under his questing fingers and it only takes a few hard strokes before he gets the pleasure of watching Alex's eyes flutter in the dark, her lovely mouth dropping open in a wordless cry as she comes, back arched and cunt wrapped around him like a vice.

It's all more than enough to finish him off and he drops his head quickly, mouth latching onto a nipple once more as he pumps up and into her, breath coming out like a short, muffled whinge as his release starts to wash over him. Alex threads an encouraging hand through his hair and suddenly he's there – white hot euphoria pulling him under – and he bites her nipple so hard as he comes that he's sure the bruise will be spectacular in the morning.

He stops moving and melts completely into the lumpy mattress beneath him. Alex pulls her shirt back down over her breasts and when he finally manages to gather the energy to slip from inside her, she tugs her pajama bottoms back up over her hips. Her hands gentle, she tucks him back into his trousers and curls herself into his side, her head under his chin. He grips her tightly and she whispers again, "I'm not leaving."

Somehow, he knows she means more than just this bed. He'll make her keep her promise, make her cling to it like he clings to her now, closing his eyes and hoping that she'll still be here in the morning – and every day after.

red sun rises like an early warning

Chapter Summary

Just as she'd promised that night she came back to his bed, she hasn't run away again. He can tell that sometimes she would like to – that she still thinks she's too broken to be loved, that maybe she doesn't deserve to be happy again after losing her daughter.

Chapter Notes

Chapter title from Bottom of the River by Delta Rae.

"Stop gloating."

"I haven't said a word!"

"Yes, but somehow I can still hear it."

Matt snorts, tugging the strap of his heavy satchel over his shoulder. "It's hardly my fault you're bloody stubborn and won't listen to reason. I told you there was nothing left in that pub but trouble."

"I just wanted a bit of whiskey to surprise Harry," she grouses, blushing a little. "I promised I'd be on the lookout. The man practically begged me on his knees."

He rolls his eyes. "Harry is an overdramatic sod, sweetheart. And he's brilliant at making people feel sorry for him."

"Too brilliant," she mutters, traipsing along beside him, fingers always poised over her gun. It's only been a few weeks since she started venturing out with him but Alex is always ready for sudden danger. She's learned so quickly.

Grinning, Matt slings an arm around her shoulders as they head off in the direction of base. They

haven't wandered far today and they'll be back in plenty of time before sunset. "You know I love any opportunity to see you in action, Kingston." Alex with a gun in hand, sweaty, flushed, and determined as she shoots… Christ, it's a sight. He suppresses a growl of desire and presses a kiss to her temple. "I just wish it hadn't been in vain."

"I wouldn't say that." Alex glances up at him, looking smug.

Matt frowns. "What?"

Without another word but a rather lovely smirk, Alex lifts a bottle from her small satchel.

"Scotch?" He laughs brightly. "How -"

"Found it buried under a bunch of broken glass."

"You mean the broken glass an infected threw you into because you weren't paying attention and looking for booze instead?" He lifts a brow, unamused, and Alex glances away sheepishly. She'd scared the living hell out of him, lying there on the floor, crumpled and bloody. Never before had he enjoyed putting a bullet through an infected's brain quite so much. "You're sure you're alright?"

"Perfectly fine, darling. Just a little scratched." She turns her head, pressing a swift kiss to his jaw. "Thank you for saving me."

"Just means you owe me one," he teases, wondering what she'd say if he told her he'd do anything to keep her safe, even if it meant getting infected himself. "Now give me a drink before Harry steals it all."

She passes him the bottle with a smile.

They go through security once they arrive back at the compound and while he knows he's fine, Matt can't help but hold his breath and pray every time he gets scanned for the infection. The security guard – a teenage boy in dirty jeans with a rifle slung over his shoulder – drops the scanner from in front of Matt's eyes and nods. "Clear."

Already waiting for him, Alex holds out a hand and they walk together to the front desk to drop off their findings – all except the scotch, anyway. "Dinner first or shower?"

Matt's stomach rumbles at the mere thought of food but Alex is just as dirty as he is and he doesn't want to hear Harry complain about having to smell them. Besides, he wants to make sure for himself that Alex really is fine. "Shower," he says, and begins to tug on her hand and lead her away.

They stop briefly for a change of clothes and head to the showers. Matt turns on the water as Alex begins to strip out of her grimy clothes and he studies her out of the corner of his eye. In the weeks since she's started training and going out scavenging with him, her body has started to fill out once more. She still isn't quite as curvy as he remembers but he can no longer see her ribs poking out and her thighs are a little fuller, her breasts a little more plump. Muscles are starting to form in her biceps and her calves are firm and slim. She looks healthy. And most importantly, that light is back in her eyes again. The grief is still there and he imagines it always will be, but she's almost recognizably Alex again.

As she steps under the spray, Matt sheds his own clothes quickly and joins her. The water is freezing but it washes away all the sweat and dirt from their day and that's all he can ask for. He wraps his arms around Alex and tugs her into him, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder and letting his hands wander over her skin, mapping and cataloguing each and every cut and bruise.

If she knows what he's doing, Alex doesn't say a word. She leans into him and closes her eyes, letting the water soak her red curls, plastering them to her head. Matt scans her critically, looking for cuts that might need stitches but they all seem shallow and she isn't even wincing as the water pounding down on them stings her skin. She's fine. He breathes out a quiet, relieved sigh and presses another kiss to her shoulder.

"Satisfied?" She asks, pulling back to look at him fondly.

He pouts. "Just checking."

"I told you I was fine." Alex takes a bar of soap in hand and begins to lather his chest, scrubbing away the day's grime with a gentle touch.

"I know," he shrugs, slipping his hands over her back and down.

She laughs as he cups her bum, yanking her close. "Didn't you believe me?"

He shakes his head. "I can never be too careful. Not when it comes to you." Shivering, Alex washes the soap from his chest and presses her lips over newly clean skin. "Cold?"

"Freezing," she admits, damp eyelashes sticking together as she avoids his gaze. Matt cups her face in his hands and presses her against the damp, cobbled brick of the shower wall, mouth on hers as he attempts to warm her up.

Just as she'd promised that night she came back to his bed, she hasn't run away again. He can tell that sometimes she would like to – that she still thinks she's too broken to be loved, that maybe she doesn't deserve to be happy again after losing her daughter. Sometimes, he'll catch himself watching her like the besotted fool he is and realize that Alex is staring back with something akin to fear. Whatever she struggles with, she resists the temptation to pull away again. Instead, she clings to him. She sleeps curled up in his small cot with him, she kisses him dizzy when they're alone and holds his hand under the table in the canteen, and whenever he braves the new world outside, she goes with him.

She still won't talk about Salome – but then, he doesn't really talk about his family either – and they both wake up nearly every night in the throes of some awful nightmare. Alex still bristles when Matt gets too protective of her and there are some days when she just won't eat, but things are better than they were now that she feels she has a purpose. She's improving and Matt is slowly learning to improve right along with her.

The canteen has mostly emptied out by the time they pull themselves away from their cold shower and get dressed but Harry is still waiting for them, picking at tonight's mystery meat with a wrinkled nose. Alex and Matt settle into the chairs across the table from him with their own plates but he doesn't acknowledge them right away, clearly very worried about just what he might potentially be consuming.

Matt spends a long moment watching Alex dig into her food, thrilled that at least today, her appetite has returned. Even her cheeks look less sunken, making her face look a little fuller. God, he loves witnessing the slow reappearance of those curves.

In the middle of lifting a spoonful of watery broth to her mouth, Alex glances at him out of the corner of her eye and sighs. "Would you stop watching me eat?"

He grins, ducking his head and returning his gaze back to his plate. "Sorry," he murmurs, not feeling sorry at all.

Alex sighs again and slips her hand into his under the table.

Having decided his dinner is no immediate threat and popping the meat into his mouth with a shrug, Harry finally glances up with disappointment. "No booze then?"

Alex opens her mouth to no doubt tell him what she found today but Matt squeezes her hand and she falls silent, glancing at him with a frown. Mouth twitching in amusement, he shakes his head once subtly and she rolls her eyes, going back to her food and allowing him to torture Harry.

"Sorry mate," he says. "No luck."

Harry groans and drops his forehead to the table. "My god, half the population is either dead or fucking ossified – where in the fuck has all the alcohol gone?"

"Seriously? It's the first thing people turn to in any stressful situation." Matt steals Harry's pudding and takes a bite before putting it back. It tastes like shit but it's better than nothing and by the time he and Alex made it to the canteen, the kitchen had been all out. "The looters who went through after the first outbreak probably took every bottle to ever exist."

"Don't forget tea," Alex chimes in, daintily slurping her soup.

"Tea," Matt moans. "I would risk infection for a decent cuppa."

Alex pats his shoulder distractedly, still preoccupied with her food.

"Well the tea is gone too," Harry snaps peevishly. "The Americans probably threw it into the harbor again. Fucking Americans."

Snorting Matt lounges back in his seat and enjoys knowing how close his best mate is to real alcohol without even realizing it. "I think you need a nap, Treadaway."

"Oh, that reminds me. You two have to go."

Alex glances up, blinking. "Pardon?"

"Yeah…" Harry offers a sheepish grin. "Everyone in our quarters is getting pretty sick of listening to you two shag when they're trying to sleep. They want you out."

Matt gapes. "Oh come on. We're not that loud."

"You are a bit, actually. I mean, after that first time, I don't think you even tried keeping quiet anymore, you bunch of exhibitionists."

Alex chokes. "First time? How did you -"

"Cots don't squeak like that on their own, love." Harry winks at her.

Flushing, Alex buries her face in her hands.

Matt presses a comforting hand to the back of her head, not quite sure how he feels knowing that people have been listening to him have sex for weeks. "You never said anything!"

"What was I supposed to say? 'Oi, mate, sorry but when you're shagging Alex could you maybe slap a hand over her mouth and also maybe do it on the floor so the cot won't squeak and wake everyone?'" Harry eyes him balefully. "Yeah, because that's a conversation I'd want to have with you."

Alex makes a pitiful, mortified noise into her hands.

Matt bestows her with a sympathetic pat and turns to Harry impatiently. "And what are we supposed to do? Sleep on the floor in the hall?"

"Ah, that's the good news." Harry begins to rummage through his trouser pocket, looking suddenly gleeful. "You get your own room."

He tosses a key onto the table and Alex lifts her head from her hands to join Matt in staring at it

curiously. There are very few separate bedrooms, most of which are reserved for higher ups or the very few couples with kids. Skeptical that they would waste a room on him and Alex, Matt shakes his head. "They're giving us our own room because we're shagging? A lot of people are shagging!"

"Yeah, but a lot of people are more discreet than you are." Harry shrugs. "I've taken the liberty of packing your shit and hauling it to your new place, so you're welcome and congratulations on the honeymoon suite."

As the embarrassment begins to fade, Matt can't help but glance at Alex and consider exactly what this means – a room alone with Alex, a room with a bed alone with Alex. He'll be able to undress her and see every inch of her naked somewhere that isn't a shower. He'll be able to spread her out beneath him and she won't have to bite her lip to keep quiet when he touches her. They can actually be reasonably loud.

A slow grin spreading over his face, Matt reaches a hand into Alex's satchel and finally pulls out the bottle of scotch, scooting it across the table and into Harry's deserving hands. "Cheers, mate."

He wakes in the morning tangled with a very naked Alex, his face pressed into her hair and his legs twined with hers. Alex makes a sleepy noise of protest as he shifts, sliding a hand up his bare chest and forming it into a little fist. Matt wraps his arm around her and stares at the ceiling with a smile. Now this is something they just couldn't have sharing a room with fifty other people.

It feels almost normal and for a moment, he lets himself imagine that he's in his bedroom in his flat in London and that any moment now, he's going to get up and make tea in the kitchen before slipping back into bed and Alex's arms with warm mugs and maybe a plate of breakfast for them to share. Marmalade on toast, perhaps. He can't even remember the last time he tasted marmalade.

Alex shifts on top of him, bare breasts pressed against his chest, and the cot squeaks, yanking him back into reality. He isn't in his flat and there is no marmalade – there may never be flats and marmalade ever again. There is only a tiny, bare room with two cots that he and Alex had pressed together last night. At one point, with Alex clinging to him and making these lovely little noises he'd never had the privilege to hear before, they'd fallen through the crack between the cots and onto the floor. He'd bruised an elbow but he hasn't heard Alex laugh like that in years – not since they were on set together, flirting and without a true care in the world.

Yawning, Alex moves about again, her leg snaking between his. Her thigh presses against his groin and he squirms. "Alex," he whinges.

She presses her face into his chest, hiding a smile.

"Aha, you are awake." He huffs, stirring her hair. "Awake and evil."

She laughs, letting him flip her over very carefully so he can pin her to the mattress. Her eyes finally open and she peers up at him, looking sleepy and content. Hands pinned above her head and legs spread to cradle his body between them, she looks ravishing and he can't help but wonder what she would look like with sun streaming in through a window, lighting up her eyes and turning her hair aflame.

Reaching out a hand, she cups his cheek in her palm, thumb brushing softly over his cheekbone. "I like it in here. It's quiet."

He nods. "Could do with a few homey touches. Throw pillows. Maybe a few scented candles." She rolls her eyes but softens when he turns his head and kisses her palm noisily. "Thank you for the room, by the way."

She laughs, throwing her head back, and he grins down at her. "Darling, it takes two to get kicked out for shagging in a communal sleeping room."

"Yeah, but it's your fault we were shagging so much," he reasons loftily, enjoying the way she gapes up at him. "Danger gets you all hot and bothered, Kingston."

She makes a noise of protest, swatting at him. "It does not!"

"It does! Every night after we get back from scavenging and shooting, you're all over me -" He ducks when she tries to slap him, laughing. "Admit it. Using a gun turns you on."

"Watching you use a gun turns me on," she mumbles, blushing.

His grin widens. "Even better."

"Oh shut up, darling," she grouses, and pushes him off of her.

He pouts, watching her slide out from beneath him and reach for her clothes scattered on the floor. "Where are you going?"

"I have rotations today," she says, slipping into her knickers under his watchful gaze. "I'm doing laundry. Very exciting."

He sighs, stretching languidly. "Fine, I guess I'll go see the girls."

"The girls?" She turns to him, brow arched, and he freezes, instantly cursing himself for the slip of the tongue. He hasn't told her about his little visits to see them. Alex has been doing so well. He hates to bring up anything that might remind her unnecessarily of the little girl she lost. Olive, Holly, and Grace would definitely be unnecessary reminders. "Do you have something you'd like to tell me, darling?"

"Yes." He nods, climbing out of bed and hopping into his jeans. "I have a harem. But don't worry, Kingston. You're my favorite."

He grabs his t-shirt, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, and escapes before she can ask him anything else.

"What do you think? Are they me?"

Alex glances up and promptly breaks into giggles at the sight of him sporting a pair of scratched, battered cat eye sunglasses. "Oh yes. Very glamorous." She steps over an upended luggage trolley and glances curiously around the lobby, looking adorably cautious.

It's her first overnight trip and the lower in the sky the sun gets, the more jumpy she becomes. He'd insisted that instead of sleeping out in the open, they stay in one of the few buildings still standing on this street in the middle of Manchester. The hotel is deserted – save for a few infected they'd quickly dispatched – and definitely worse for wear but it's a stable building and full of real beds in empty rooms.

Matt takes off the glasses and watches Alex stoop to inspect the bags of luggage, the contents of which are strewn throughout the vast lobby. "Don't bother," he says. "This place has been looted a hundred times over. Anything worth taking has been taken already."

"Speak for yourself." She holds up a single piece of spearmint gum with a grin.

He takes his half when she splits the stick of gum in two, popping it into his mouth and offering her a grateful peck. It tastes a little stale and it's a bit hard but he can't even recall the last time he chewed a piece of gum so he isn't complaining. "We'll need to set off again at sunrise if we want to scavenge in Manchester and still be back before sunset tomorrow. So, dinner and bed?"

"A real bed." She sighs dreamily. "Why don't we just stay here?"

"Because the things that want to eat us can detect noise and the only way to avoid becoming their next meal or one of them is to remain underground?"

"Oh." She frowns, deflated. "Right."

Smiling softly, Matt leans in and brushes his lips across her forehead. "Maybe we should skip dinner and just go to bed."

"God, I love a man with a plan." She leans up on her toes and her lips just barely touch his when a high-pitched scream echoes around them from the street.

They spring apart instantly and as Matt breaks into a run, gun already in hand, Alex is right behind him. He hears another scream as he stumbles down the hotel steps and there, right in front of them, are a group of infected gathered around a young girl. Her back pressed against an abandoned car as they surround her, she has nowhere to go and only a small knife in hand to defend herself. She's young, her long brown hair obscuring her face as she screams again, lashing out and stabbing one of the infected in the head. Blood and brains spatter against her face and she attempts to yank the blade out, stifling a frustrated cry when it won't budge, lodged deep in bone.

"Salome!"

A shot rings out and Matt whirls in shock to find Alex behind him, arm outstretched and gun aimed at the snarling group around the girl. "Alex, what -" She shoots again, eyes fierce, and it

snaps him out of his stupor long enough to grip his gun tightly and start shooting alongside her. They work as a team, making quick work of the group with Alex shooting first and Matt delivering the killing shot to the ones she misses.

By the time they're all slumped on the ground, their dying groans still echoing through the streets, the girl has curled up into a ball on the ground, crying and shaking. As Matt approaches her cautiously, he can tell she isn't Salome. He says nothing, reaching for Alex's hand. She shies from him, avoiding his gaze, and steps closer to the girl, stooping to place a trembling hand on her shoulder.

"Sal?"

The girl flinches away from her, lifting her head. "I don't know who you are, please -"

Alex stares at her, drawing her hand back, and Matt sees the exact moment she realizes this young girl is not her daughter. Her back stiffens and she squeezes her eyes shut, managing a thin smile. "I'm sorry. I – I thought you were someone else."

Struggling against the urge to reach and pull her into his arms, Matt averts his gaze and gives her a little privacy to collect herself, knowing she'll just hate him if he coddles her now. Instead, he focuses on the girl. Pulling her knife from the head of the infected lying dead next to her, he holds it out to her and asks, "Alright?"

She nods, standing in shaky legs and gripping her knife tightly. "Fine. Thank you." Dusting herself off, she brushes her hair from her face and Matt is struck by how very young she looks. She can't be more than fifteen years old. "I don't know what happened. One minute I was walking along trying not to make any noise and the next they were on me. I'm Lydia, by the way."

"Matt." He holds out a hand and she shakes it, her grip surprisingly strong for one so thin. "We're staying there for the night -" He gestures to the hotel behind them. "But we'll set off again in the morning. You're welcome to join us."

She beams. "That sounds lovely. I've been looking for people for months, it seems."

Frowning, Matt opens his mouth to question her but Alex finally speaks up. "Darling, we should head back in. It'll be dark soon."

He turns to look at her, pale and drained, still not quite meeting his eyes. He finally risks holding out a hand to her again and this time, she takes it, weaving their fingers together. They start walking and he gestures for Lydia to follow. She steps over the corpses around them and trails behind. Matt takes his eyes off her long enough to murmur, "You okay, Kingston?"

"No," she answers honestly, and while he hates to hear it, he can't help but be grateful she isn't trying to lie to him. "But I will be. Just… my eyes playing tricks on me, I suppose."

He kisses her temple and steps away from her to open the hotel door, ushering her and Lydia inside. Sticking her handgun into the back pocket of her jeans, Alex turns to Lydia with a bright smile Matt sees right through. "We don't have much to eat but you're welcome to my portion if you'd like it."

Lydia shakes her head. "Thank you, Kingston, was it? But I think I'd just like to sleep somewhere without worrying about every little noise in the night."

"I understand," Alex smiles and elbows Matt when he laughs. "And my name is Alex, dear. Matt calls me by my last name because he's an enamored idiot."

He grins at her. "Guilty."

Alex rolls her eyes but her amusement isn't quite genuine. It'll be a few days, he thinks, before he truly sees his Alex again. Any reminder of Salome is always a setback. Turning from him, she digs into her satchel and pulls out a piece of bread and cheese, handing them to Lydia. "What were you doing out by yourself, anyway?"

The girl shrugs, looking reluctant. Matt rights the overturned luggage trolley and ushers her and Alex to sit on it before sitting across from them on the floor. "I was traveling with a group – my brother and a few people we'd met. They were all killed a few weeks ago and I've been on my own since then."

Alex wraps an arm around the girl, a maternal gesture that makes Matt's chest ache. As Alex murmurs comfort, Lydia hesitates only a moment before dropping her head to let it rest on her shoulder. Her long hair slips down her back, exposing the side of her neck, and Matt's breath catches painfully in his throat. A jagged, fresh scratch. God no.

For a moment, he allows himself to believe she didn't get the scratch from an infected. She could have gotten it anywhere, roaming around on her own, running for her life. But then Lydia meets his gaze with a tired smile and even while the room begins to darken with the rapidly approaching sunset, he can still see that something about her eyes isn't quite right. She's turning, without even realizing it.

"Matt? Darling?"

He flinches, blinking hard and glancing away. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he asks, "Yeah? Sorry."

"I was saying we should find some rooms to sleep in." Alex eyes him warily, looking concerned. "Are you ready to head upstairs?"

"Of course." He stands quickly, reaching for her hand and pulling her close, away from Lydia. "Let's go."

Alex tugs on Lydia's wrist, smiling. "Come along, dear. I'll help get you settled."

Lydia beams, clearly relieved to have someone looking after her, but the moment she meets their eyes, Alex stumbles back with a gasp at the sight of the milky film making her eyes glaze over. Matt presses a hand to the small of her back and uses his free one to squeeze her fingers. "Easy, Kingston," he murmurs. "Go on ahead of us, Lydia. I think Alex is feeling a little faint. Needs to eat something."

"Oh, okay. Feel better, Alex." The girl casts them an anxious glance, blinking like it's becoming difficult to see, and turns to start slowly up the stairs on her own.

Alex clears her throat and manages a soft, "We'll be up soon, dear." The moment she's gone, Alex puts her head in her hands. "Oh my god." Matt wraps his arms around her, threading his hands through her hair and tucking her head under his chin. Her shoulders shake and he shushes her softly, rocking her back and forth. "We have to do something. We have to -"

He drops a kiss into her hair, tears stinging his eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. She's been infected. There's nothing we can do."

She pulls away from her, turning her back as she wipes hurriedly at her eyes. "Yes, there is," she

says softly. "Turning, it's… it's a very painful process, Matt. It's agony."

"How do you -" He stops, swallowing hard, little Salome's face flashing in his mind. "Alex -"

She whirls to face him, eyes red, and grips the collar of his t-shirt with sudden desperation. "We have to stop it before she changes completely. We have to save her."

"Alex, sweetheart, we can't stop it. The bloody government can't even stop it and they've been experimenting with cures for years!"

She shakes her head, face pinched as she struggles not to cry. "No, darling," she whispers. "I don't mean save her. We have to end this."

As her meaning dawns, Matt draws in a sharp breath, ice trickling up his spine. "Alex, no."

"We have to, darling." She wipes at her cheeks again, tears still spilling from her eyes and seeing her cry makes him so angry he wants to hit something. He just wants to wrap her up and make sure nothing ever hurts her or brings her painful memories ever again. He wants to take her from this hellhole and just float with her above the earth, above the stars, and just never come back down again. "I know it seems brutal but we can't just let her turn. It's not a life – it's not even close."

"Can you honestly tell me you could climb those stairs and shoot her through the head while she's sleeping?"

Alex flinches but then she squares her jaw, eyes hardening. "I can if the only other option is dooming her to become some blind, mindless killer."

"Alex -"

"No!" Her shout echoes around the empty lobby. "I can't – I won't make the same mistake again."

He stares at her in stunned silence and Alex looks away, resolve crumbling along with her expression. Forcing himself to snap out of it, Matt yanks her to him roughly, folding Alex into his embrace and burying his face in her hair. He holds her until the tears stop. They sink together to

the floor and he knows without asking that it's where they'll stay tonight. Suddenly, the thought of a real bed isn't quite the enticement it once was.

Cradling Alex on his lap, he strokes his fingers through her hair and waits patiently for her breathing to slow and the sniffling to stop. Lips pressed against her hairline, he draws in a quiet breath and finally asks the question they've both been dreading. "What happened to Salome, Alex?"

Pressing her face into the crook of his neck, wet eyelashes brushing his skin, Alex says nothing for a long moment and when she finally starts to speak, her voice wavers so dangerously he wishes he could take it back. "I looked away for just a moment."

He tightens his arms around her, if only to keep himself from pressing his hands to his ears and refusing to hear the rest.

"We were living in a train station with a bunch of others, laying low, trying to keep quiet. But a group of them stumbled upon us and managed to get in." She takes a shallow breath, trembling in his arms. "I pushed Sal behind me."

"Alex," he says softly, beginning to regret asking. "We don't have to -"

She shakes her head. "No. I need to."

He strokes her hair from her cheek. "Then I'm listening."

"One of them launched at me and we both fell to the ground. I could hear Salome screaming and I thought she was just scared. I tried to tell her it was okay, that I was fine. And then she stopped screaming."

Matt presses his face into her hair, a lump in his throat at the picture Alex paints in her distant, hollow voice.

"I killed the one on top of me, put a knife through its head." She swallows. "I pushed it off and ran to Salome. She was on the ground but she seemed fine. I helped her up and god, I remember being so frantic. My hands were shaking while I looked her over, checking her for even a scratch… I found one on her leg." She sighs shakily, a hand over her mouth. "She couldn't even feel it yet – I think scratches take longer to notice. Fewer toxins than a bite. I didn't tell her. I

didn't tell anyone. I didn't know what to do and I was just so scared, Matt."

He grips her to him, his eyes burning and his throat too tight to speak a word.

"I wrapped her up in a blanket and sat with her for two days. I barely moved. She got a fever first, and then her sight left. She screamed. That's when everyone else realized what was happening. They wanted to kill her and when I screamed and cried and refused, they made me leave." Her voice cracks and Matt blinks away tears. "I carried her outside and I just held her. I told her it would be fine but she was in so much pain. She cried the whole last day she was alive."

"Alex, sweetheart." His voice is raw but he can't stand to hear anymore, as selfish as it is. Alex had lived it but he can't even listen without falling apart. She's so much stronger than he's ever given her credit for. "Please-"

"I was with her when she turned, looking into her eyes. I watched the light leave her and I could see the moment she wasn't my Salome anymore. She was something else." Her face crumples. "She tried to kill me. And they stopped her. It took days before I stopped screaming."

"I'm so sorry, Alex." The words feel overwhelmingly inadequate but there is nothing else he can say. Nothing he says will make her feel better or bring her little girl back. There are no magic words to make everything right.

"We have to save Lydia, Matt." She looks up at him desperately, eyes wide and cheeks streaked with tears. "I can't let her suffer. I can't let her live to become something terrible."

"Okay," he says, and hugs her to his chest, letting her cry. "We'll take care of it."

They don't sleep that night, sitting on the floor in the lobby and holding each other close. Matt tells silly stories he remembers from having Salome on set and though Alex can't bring herself to laugh, her eyes lighten and she clings gratefully to his hand. It's enough.

When dawn breaks, they steal upstairs and slip into the room where young Lydia sleeps. Alex stands over the bed and stares down at the girl whose skin has already taken on a strangely translucent pallor. A cold sweat has broken out over her body, the fever setting in. In a day, she'll be changed completely. Unless they do something.

Matt draws his gun but doesn't make a move toward Lydia.

Seeing him hesitate, Alex wraps her hand around his arm. "It's a mercy," she whispers. "For her and everyone else."

"I know. I just – I've never killed someone who wasn't fully infected."

"We'll do it together." She wraps a hand around his on the grip of the gun.

He shakes his head. "No, I can't -"

"Together," she says again, firmly.

They raise the gun, fingers poised on the trigger as the girl on the bed sleeps restlessly, oblivious. Matt swallows hard. "Look away, Kingston."

Alex shuts her eyes.

They squeeze the trigger.

maybe it's all we got but it's all i need

Chapter Summary

"When has anyone, on the face of the entire planet, ever not liked you, Kingston?"

She scoffs. "You'd be surprised."

"Sorry, don't believe you. You're impossible not to like. It's your curse." Her grip around his hand tightens and he slows just outside the door, meeting her eyes intently. One look at her face and he knows it isn't really fear of not being liked that has her fingers trembling in his. "Hey, it'll be fine. I promise."

Chapter Notes

Chapter title from All I Need by Mat Kearney

"What if they don't like me?"

He turns to look at her incredulously as he guides her down the corridor, his hand in hers. "Seriously? When has anyone, on the face of the entire planet, ever not liked you, Kingston?"

She scoffs. "You'd be surprised."

"Sorry, don't believe you. You're impossible not to like. It's your curse." Her grip around his hand tightens and he slows just outside the door, meeting her eyes intently. One look at her face and he knows it isn't really fear of not being liked that has her fingers trembling in his. "Hey, it'll be fine. I promise."

"If I start to fall apart in there, I need you to pull me out." She squares her jaw, clearly determined to be strong. "They don't need to see an old woman bawling her eyes out and calling them another little girl's name."

"Alex -"

"Promise me."

He sighs, squeezing her hand. "I promise if you start to traumatize them, I'll make you leave."

She nods once. "Good."

"Ready?"

"No. But open the door anyway."

The quarters where the orphans stay are smaller than most others, just enough room for beds and tables for eating. Most of the older children prefer to wander the halls and infiltrate the other areas of the compound. They like being around the adults. Those too young, like the girls Matt has grown irrationally fond of, are mostly confined for their own safety and looked after by a volunteer. He tries to help out when he can but with his other duties and for a while, keeping a close eye on Alex, his visits have been sporadic at best.

At first, the girls don't even notice their arrival. Grace is too busy flipping through a torn, fading picture book, running her fingers over the drawings in fascination. On the floor, Holly and Olive squabble over the doll Matt had given them. "But you said she could be Wonder Woman today and kill all the infected!"

Olive frowns savagely. "Yeah, but now I've decided she needs to be a nurse and save them all!"

Matt rolls his eyes and next to him, Alex stifles a smile, looking remarkably stable. "Or," he says, causing the girls to whirl around in fright. "She could be Wonder Woman and save everyone. What have I told you about compromise, girls?"

"Matty!"

Doll forgotten, Holly tosses it aside as both girls leap to their feet and race toward him, launching themselves at this legs. He stumbles back with a laugh, planting a hand atop each of their heads. "How are my best girls?"

Olive tugs at his trouser leg, pouting. "Matty, it's been ages!"

"I know, I'm sorry." He lifts them both into his arms and squeezes them tight enough to make them squirm and giggle. "I've been busy but I've missed you insanely." He sets them back on their feet again and ruffles Holly's hair just to see her scowl and pat it back into place. He glances back at Alex hovering behind him wearing a soft, anxious smile, and reaches for her hand. "You remember my friend Alex I told you about?"

Alex looks startled. "You told them about me?"

"Course I did, shush." He glares playfully and turns back to Holly and Olive. "Girls, this is Alex. She wanted to be meet you – god knows why."

Holly glowers.

He grins at her. "Alex, this is Holly, and this is Olive." He eyes them both sternly. "Best behavior, yeah?"

They nod eagerly, staring up at Alex. "Hello," they mumble in unison, suddenly as shy as Matt has ever seen them.

Smiling kindly, Alex kneels and looks them square in the eye. "Hello. Your Matty has told me so much about you. It's nice to put such lovely faces to those pretty names."

The girls beam at her, clearly taken by her already.

"And I must say," she begins, eyeing Olive's feet. "Those are very remarkable boots."

Olive preens, dropping her head to admire her red cowboy boots. "Matty found them for me."

Matt snorts. "She wears them with everything."

"I don't blame her." Alex grins and glances over their shoulders, gaze directed toward the little cot in the corner of the room. "And what's your name?"

Watching them in silence from the edge of the bed, curious but unwilling to make a move forward, Grace peers at Alex with wide eyes and says nothing. "Grace," Matt mutters, just loudly enough for Alex to hear. "A bit shy, that one."

Softening, Alex casts Olive and Holly one last smile and a gentle squeeze of their little hands before rising fluidly and crossing the room. She gestures to the spot next to Grace and asks, "Can I sit with you?"

Grace nods her dark head quickly, eyes on her knees.

She sits and Matt moves to a table with the girls, giving them some space. He has never been able to get Grace to fully open up and he can't help hoping that maybe she just needs someone like Alex to bring her out of her shell. Olive and Holly watch with rapt attention, whispering to each other about Alex's hair and how soft her hands are. Grinning, Matt shushes them and turns back to the scene unfolding in front of him.

He tunes back in just in time to hear Alex say, "Our hair is quite alike, isn't it?" She tugs gently at a kinky brown curl hanging over Grace's forehead. "Yours is much prettier though."

Grace reddens, casting Alex a shy, uncertain glance.

Alex smiles and reaches out to tap a finger against the book Grace had been looking at when they came in. "Can you read?"

Grace shakes her head. "I like the pictures," she mumbles.

Humming thoughtfully, Alex lifts the book and runs her fingers over the cover. "Where The Wild Things Are," she murmurs, sounding wistful. "My little girl used to love this one." Matt holds his breath, watching her carefully for any sign that she has had enough reminders for one day and would like to go. But Alex blinks hard, gives a little sigh, and manages a smile. "Would you like me to read it to you?"

Grace glances up sharply, eyes lit up, and he wonders when was the last time anybody read a story to these girls. Lips parted and gaze rapturous, Grace stares at Alex like some sort of savior and warmth fills Matt from the inside out as he witnesses the exact moment the shy little girl imprints on the grieving woman in front of her, like a duckling to its mother.

Grace climbs eagerly into Alex's lap and the other two girls scramble from the table and run over to join them, clambering onto the cot and sitting on either side of Alex. She opens the book to the first page, glances around her at the small brood of children surrounding her, and looks across the room at Matt with a watery smile.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

Climbing into bed beside him later that night, Alex curls into his side. She's warm and smells like the soap the compound makes by the pound, her hair still damp from her shower. Matt pulls her close and kisses her neck as she slips a leg between his and nestles comfortably against him. "What do I have to be mad about?"

He shrugs. "I kept the girls from you."

Alex sighs, rubbing her cheek against his bare chest. "I was a bit cross at first," she admits. "But I understand why you did it. Honestly, you were probably right to keep them from me. I don't think I was ready until -" She stops, swallowing. "After what happened with Lydia. I think I needed today with them. It was nice, seeing that there is still some of that innocence left in the world. That it hasn't all been stolen away by death and infection."

He closes his eyes and kisses her neck again, a soothing brush of his lips across her throat. "They loved you, you know."

"Well, I loved them too." She smiles into his hair. "Especially Grace."

"You're brilliant with her." Matt strokes his fingertips up her spine. "I've never seen her smile like that. I mean it."

Biting her lip, Alex is quiet for a long moment, combing her fingers through his hair and lulling him into a fuzzy state of half-sleep. Finally, she says, "I'd like to spend more time with her. With all of them, of course."

"They would love that. The volunteers do what they can but it's not quite the same as -" He stops himself before he says a mother. "They would be crazy about spending more time with you, sweetheart. Especially Grace. I've never seen her respond to anyone like she did you and you'd only just met." He lifts his head and trails a playful finger down the expanse of her nose. "I think

she needs you."

Alex shakes head, crinkling her nose and swatting his hand away with a smile. "Actually, I think I'm the one who might need her."

They aren't having much luck today. It's been hours since they left the bunker in search of more supplies and they haven't found so much as a battered tin of beans. At the moment, the compound kitchen is well stocked but Matt always gets a little nervous when the time between visits from the armored tanks with food stretches longer than six months. The government sends out food when they can safely manage it but there are times when it just isn't often enough or the trucks get overrun with infected. Any opportunity Matt gets to help his underground community, he takes it.

He isn't even sure how it became his responsibility to scavenge. He takes turns with a few others but for the most part, the job falls to him – the clumsiest member of the group. Something happened to him after the outbreaks. He was forced to look after Harry, who practically fell apart, forced to shove his own grief aside and just grow up. He takes his responsibilities seriously and so far, he's managed not to let anyone down. He doesn't plan to start now.

"Anything yet?"

Alex shakes her head, rummaging through the debris scattered around the petrol station. "Not even a bag of crisps."

He sighs, abandoning the empty petrol cans he'd been checking for fuel. "Let's move on. This place has been wiped clean."

Straightening, she turns to follow him out. "Could we go to the library?"

"The library?" Matt laughs, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they head for the door. "I don't think we're going to find any food there, Kingston."

She nudges him, sighing. "I want to find more books for the girls. They don't have many and I'm quite tired of reading the same thing every night."

The last thing he wants to do is take a break from finding food to lug around books but Alex has been worryingly quiet today and the girls have proven to be a brilliant distraction. "Tired of pretending to be a wild thing, Kingston?" He turns his head and makes a soft snuffling noise into her neck, laughing when she squirms away. "But you're so good at it."

She whacks his arm, stifling a giggle. "Shut up, Matthew."

Even the library hasn't been left untouched. Without no one to tend to it, it sits alone and vacant among the rubble, the windows shattered and trees growing alongside the walls, the roots slithering out like claws and cracking the foundation. It's dark and mostly on its own, save for the theater down the street with posters slapped to the outside proclaiming the new showing of Godzilla.

Alex stares up at the building a little fearfully and he slips his hand into hers. "Sure you want to go in?"

She nods, squeezing his fingers. "If I have to read The Cat in the Hat one more time, I think I'll rewrite the ending and kill him myself."

He guffaws, lamenting, "What happened to my sweet Kingston?"

Alex smirks tiredly at him. "You gave her a gun and taught her how to use it."

"I knew it was bad idea," he teases with a sigh, tugging her along and up the crumbling steps. As he forces open the door and the emptiness inside echoes back at them, he whispers, "Stay close."

Their boots click against the marble floor as they make their way inside, clinging to each other with their free hand hovering over their guns. If possible, the inside of the library is even worse than the outside. Moss and other greenery grow up from the floor and vines slither up the damp walls, like something out of an apocalypse picture book. Everywhere he looks, bookshelves are overturned and books are scattered all over the floor. Without glass in the window to keep nature out, it has reclaimed and taken over the once beautiful building. Birds have made nests in the eaves, in the empty card catalogue drawers, under lamps on study tables. The sound of their singing echoes throughout the building and their cheerful chirping is a sharp contrast to the bleak picture around them. Matt watches in silence as a squirrel scampers across the circulation desk and dives for the floor, scurrying away into the shadows before he can even think about drawing his knife and killing it for dinner.

Hand in hand, Matt and Alex stand in the middle of the room and stare silently at the destruction around them. "Well," he finally says. "Have you got your library card? I'm afraid mine's expired."

Rolling her eyes, Alex lets go of his hand and starts walking, calling over her shoulder, "I'm going to find the children's section."

"Oi, I said stay close!"

"I'm fine, darling." She actually has to step on books to get across the room. There is no navigating around the endless sea of hardbacks and paperbacks. "Just keep an eye out like a good boy and I'll be back soon."

He sighs, watches her go with a little grin, and hops up onto the circulation desk to wait. Glancing at the bird next beside him, he stares at the three eggs lying inside and asks pointlessly, "Don't mind sharing, do you?" He huffs at himself and turns to gaze around him, studying the dust motes floating in the air until he hears Alex yelp.

Leaping from the circulation desk, he trips and stumbles over the books in his path, calling out, "Alex? Alex, are you alright?" She doesn't answer and he swears profusely under his breath, stomping over books and venturing further into the library, gun in hand and finger itching for the trigger. "Fucking hell, Alex – answer me!"

"Here!" She finally calls out, and her red head pops out from behind a fallen bookshelf.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course I am." She frowns, then brightens, waving him over. "Come here."

Matt takes a moment to force his racing heart to slow, slipping his gun back into the waistband of his trousers. "What the bloody hell are you yelling about then? Gave me a sodding heart attack."

She winces. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting to see him."

"Him?"

He starts reaching for his gun again and Alex laughs, bending to scoop up something. She turns with a ball of struggling orange fur in her arms and Matt can only stare for a moment until he figures out he is looking at a very mangy, very ill-tempered cat. "He was curled up on top of The Velveteen Rabbit," she says, beaming. "Isn't he adorable?"

"Kingston -"

Her face falls and her grip on the grumpy furball tightens. "Oh, please, darling? No one is looking after him and he looks so hungry. Please can I keep him?" She bites her lip. "I promise I'll make sure he doesn't bother you or anyone else. I can't just leave him here, Matt. He needs me."

Raking a hand through his hair, Matt eyes the hopeful expression on Alex's face, the baleful one of the cat squashed in her arms, and groans.

Smiling widely in triumph, Alex cuddles the cat close to her chest, ignoring its disgruntled meow. "Thank you, darling. You won't regret it."

Somehow, he slept better when he and Alex were sharing a room with fifty other people. Having Olive, Holly, and Grace constantly about is almost the same thing.

"Come on, Olly. It's my turn to try!"

"Shh! I'm still reading!"

Alex whispers, "Girls, hush. Matty is still sleeping."

He frowns into his pillow and squeezes his eyes shut, wishing it were true.

"And what have I told you about sharing, hmm? You can both sound the words out together." Alex shifts on the bed, curling up close to Matt, and he squints his eyes open just enough to see her watching the girls sitting at the end of the bed with a book open in their laps. She turns to him

and he shuts his eyes again quickly, stifling a purr at the feel of her lips brushing over his hair.

The bed shifts again and the warmth of Alex leaves him. Matt frowns, opening his eyes to see her lifting Grace up with her. She leans back into Matt and the little girl clambers into her lap with The Velveteen Rabbit. "Will you read with me?"

Alex smiles, stroking her fingers softly over Grace's cheek. "Absolutely. Help me sound the words out?"

She's been teaching the girls how to read and though Holly and Olive are too young to make out many words on their own, five year old Grace is doing splendidly. She follows Alex around while she does rotations, a book in hand as she attempts to read the whole thing through without any help. And this is the same little girl who used to hide in the corner and barely speak a word to him. Matt is a bit in awe of Alex and the affect she's had on Grace in such a short time. He's taken to calling her the Miracle Worker and she rolls her eyes and tells him to stop comparing a shy five year old to Helen Keller.

As Alex and Grace work through the first page and move on to the second, quietly murmuring over the pretty sketch of the rabbit, a ball of orange fur leaps onto the bed and startles Olive and Holly into shrieking. Matt groans, stuffing a pillow over his head. Damn cat.

Alex laughs softly, a soothing hand resting against his back. He presses into it with a content sigh, shutting his eyes again. "Girls, this is the cat I told you we found. He's been napping under the bed."

Olive and Holly begin to coo and Matt peeks out from beneath his pillow to see the cat dodge them entirely to curl into a ball next to Alex, still looking grumpy despite his nap. The damn thing adores Alex, following her everywhere – usually right behind Grace, like a line of admirers – and meowing for her attention when she's busy. Before, Matt had been under the impression that cats were cool, aloof creatures that liked to withhold affection and be independent. Either he was very wrong or Alex found a very weird cat.

Olive pokes at one of his ears, looking fascinated, and Matt realizes she likely has never seen an actual cat before. She was only a baby during the first outbreak. "Wow," she breathes. "He's so fluffy."

Holly nods, her mouth hanging open. "And orange. What's his name, Alex?"

Matt had lobbied very hard for Garfield, claiming the cat's personality matched perfectly but Alex had refused. He'd expected her to give the poor animal a strange hippie name like Moon Dancer or Sunflower. She'd surprised him.

"Cadbury," she tells the girls.

Olive wrinkles her brow. "What does that mean?"

Smiling, Alex strokes a finger along Cadbury's back to make him purr. "It used to be a type of chocolate," she explains. "It was my daughter's favorite." Grace snuggles closer to Alex, arms wrapping around her waist. Looking surprised, Alex returns the gesture slowly, dropping a kiss into the girl's dark curls.

Matt smiles into his pillow, something tender and warm wrapping around his heart and squeezing.

Holly exchanges a tentative look with Olive and ventures, "Matty told us you used to have a little girl."

"Did he?" Alex glances at Matt so he stops squinting at her from beneath his lashes and tries to look like he's sleeping.

Holly nods. "He said that's why you couldn't visit. We'd make you sad."

"Are you sad, Alex?" Olive watches her innocently.

For a moment, Alex says nothing, glancing between them in stunned silence. Grace hasn't moved, still clinging tightly to her. Finally, she manages a watery smile and says, "Sometimes I'm sad because I miss my daughter very much. But you three always make me feel better."

Holly and Olive beam at her, looking relieved.

Alex shuts the book open on her lap and shifts Grace closer to her. She casts a sly glance in Matt's direction and smirks at the girls, pressing a finger to her lips. They get the idea instantly, smiles turning mischievous. Matt braces himself and squeezes his eyes shut, waiting.

Holly and Olive leap on him at once and shout, "Wake up!"

He yelps with appropriate indignation, drinking in the sound of their giggles. As he rises from his blankets with a growl like some dragon woken from a thousand year slumber, the girls shriek with laughter and scramble away, right over a very disgruntled Cadbury who hisses at them. Laughing, Matt looks at Alex, grinning at him with Grace in her arms, and suddenly, this tiny, bare room feels a little bit more like a home.

we will keep it alight together

Chapter Summary

They've been living like this so long, it's almost impossible to imagine it ever changing. Sometimes he feels like he'll grow old and die in this bunker and whenever that feeling creeps upon him, he itches to stumble outside and allow himself to be food first.

Chapter Notes

Chapter title from No Sound But The Wind by the Editors.

"Are you going to eat that?"

Alex pushes Harry's face away from her broth with an amused huff. "Yes, actually. Every bit of it."

He grins at her. "Good."

"Oh shove off, you sap."

"You love me," he insists. "What would you do without me around for entertainment? Talk to him?" He gestures to Matt, in the middle of dissecting his dinner.

He glances up, frowning savagely, and Alex pats his knee beneath the table, her eyes still on Harry. "I like talking to him. He's lovely and handsome and doesn't steal my food."

"Are you trying to imply I'm not lovely and handsome?" Harry looks so outraged Matt has to drop his eyes again to hide his smug amusement. "How dare you. I am a sodding catch. Infected would literally kill to have a piece of this and girls would love to bring me home to mummy and daddy!"

"I'm sure, dear," Alex murmurs, stirring her broth and bringing another spoonful to her mouth.

"Between the beard, your charming language and that uncanny ability to annoy within five minutes of entering a room, I'm honestly not quite sure how I've managed to keep my hands to myself."

"Too right," Harry mutters, glaring at her.

Laughing, Alex pushes her pudding toward him as a peace offering. Harry dives on the gift, snatching it up with a wink that says all is forgiven. Quite used to their bickering by now, Matt pushes aside his dinner and reaches for his own pudding, though it doesn't look a thing like pudding used to look.

Using his spoon to peel away the filmy substance of the top layer, Matt scrapes it off the utensil using the edge of his food tray and nudges Alex. "Share mine, Kingston?"

"If you like." She smiles up at him expectantly and he brings a spoonful of pudding to her mouth, watching her lips part to accept. She wrinkles her nose, looking revolted. "I still say pudding shouldn't have to be chewed."

"Oi, it's improving," he says, distracted for a moment by the way she licks her lips. "At least it doesn't have that weird aftertaste anymore."

"Aftertaste?"

At her wrinkled brow, he realizes she hasn't been here since the beginning. Sometimes, he forgets that she hasn't always been with him. He remembers his life after the outbreak as a bit like walking through a dense fog in slow motion until Alex stumbled back in again and set everything to rights. "Ah, I forgot you missed that particular delicacy." He taps her nose, forcing a smile. "Every bite of pudding left this taste in your mouth. I can't describe it -"

"Cleaning solution and old meat," Harry supplies, still preoccupied with his dessert.

"Yeah." Matt nods his thanks. "That."

"And you still ate it?" Alex stares at him in disgust.

"Oi, I was hungry."

She shakes her head, snagging his wrist and directing the spoon up to her mouth for another bite. "I may never snog you again."

"Says the woman chewing her pudding," Matt snipes, and leans into her personal space until she gives in and presses a quick kiss to his mouth. "I'm irresistible."

"Oh I know," she sighs, just enough purr in her voice to make him nearly drop his spoon. She pushes him away with a wink, turning to sip her water.

Left blinking at her, a red flush coloring his cheeks, Matt scratches his chin and drops his eyes, feeling strangely warm all over. "Wench," he mutters.

Alex laughs.

"So, if you're done making doe eyes at each other," Harry begins, shoving a bite of pudding into his mouth and mumbling around it, "I've got news."

She sighs. "Go on then. We're listening."

Matt rests his chin in his open palm and stares at Harry, eyes widened in mock fascination. "Please. Talk to us, Harry. We've barely heard from you in the last ten seconds. I'm starting to forget what your voice sounds like."

Harry kicks him under the table. "Arsehole."

Alex rolls her eyes. "Boys, don't make me separate you."

Slinging an arm across her shoulders, Matt draws her close and kisses the top of her head, inexplicably happy just to have her here – really here, in the present and talking to them. Not so long ago, she spent their dinner hour staring into space and barely eating. She's almost like his Alex again, thinner and with ghosts lurking in her eyes, but Alex. Not the stranger with her face he found all those months ago. "Sorry, mate," he says to Harry, keeping her close. "Go on."

Harry gazes them with exasperation but his blue eyes are bright and smiling, like he knows exactly what Matt is thinking and agrees with him. He ducks his head and takes another bite of pudding, talking around it again, likely in an attempt to be as irritating as possible. "They're sending out another party tomorrow."

Forcing himself to concentrate on something other than the way Alex's curls tickle his cheek and the underside of his jaw, Matt blinks at him. "What for?"

Harry shrugs. "Apparently there's another antidote the government wants to try."

Alex brightens. "Really? But that's wonderful!"

"Don't get excited yet, Kingston," Matt says, turning his head to nudge his nose gently against her temple. "Nothing's worked so far."

She reaches up to cup his face briefly, fingers stroking over his stubble. "We have to have a breakthrough eventually, darling. We can't go on like this forever."

They've been living like this so long, it's almost impossible to imagine it ever changing. Sometimes he feels like he'll grow old and die in this bunker and whenever that feeling creeps upon him, he itches to stumble outside and allow himself to be food first. He shudders at the thought, holding Alex just a little tighter against him.

"They're leaving in the morning," Harry continues. "Should be back in a day or two."

"Will they test it on animals first?"

Finishing his pudding, Harry licks his spoon and eyes Alex thoughtfully. "Why? Hoping to sign Cadbury up?"

"Oh, shut up, Harry," she huffs.

Smirking, Matt shakes his head and laces their fingers together. "They'll have already tested it on

animals before sending it out for trials."

Alex frowns. "How will we know if it works? Wait around for someone to get infected and try it on them?"

"I don't think we'll have to wait long. A three day journey? What are the odds they'll all make it back unharmed?" Harry shakes his head, his mouth a thin line. "I'll be fucked if they don't need to use it on themselves before they get back."

Alex looks ill at the thought and Matt rubs a hand up and down her back, casting Harry a dark look. "They'll be fine. They know how to look after themselves out there."

"Course they do. Doesn't mean something can't happen. How many close calls have you had? And no one is more experienced at dealing with the infected than you are." Harry frowns. "In fact, I'm shocked they didn't ask you to go along."

Matt glances away guiltily.

Harry stares at him. "They did ask you. Why the hell aren't you going?"

Tensing, Alex turns to look at him, pulling away from his grasp in shock. "Darling, you didn't tell me they asked you on the expedition."

He shrugs. "I turned them down. It wasn't worth mentioning."

"Why did you?"

"I just didn't want to go."

Still watching him with disapproval, Harry asks, "Afraid I'd move in on your bird while you were gone, Smith?"

Alex rolls her eyes, glancing at him over her shoulder. "As if I'd stay here with you and let Matt

go on a three sodding day journey without -" She stops, eyes widening as she turns back to look at Matt. "That's why you turned it down. You knew I would want to go."

"Alex -"

Her jaw tightens, nostrils flaring as she yanks her arm out of his grip. "Afraid I would fuck things up somehow?"

"What? No," he sputters. "I think you've proven you're perfectly capable. But they didn't ask you, sweetheart. You're too new. They don't even want me taking you out with me – I just do it anyway!"

Her jaw quivers and she swallows, eyes bright and intense as she studies him. "So why didn't you just go without me then?"

"Because it was a lot easier to leave before you. Now I actually have someone to come back to." He reaches for her hand, squeezing her fingers tightly. "I'd like to keep it that way."

Alex blinks away tears, her answering smile watery. "I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have -"

He shakes his head, kissing her knuckles. "My fault. I should have said something."

"'I actually have someone to come back to?'" Harry quotes with a dramatic huff. "Nice to see how much I mean to you, prick."

Matt sends him a grateful look and smiles. "No offense, mate, but coming back to your ugly mug just isn't quite the same."

"I'm a brilliant cuddler," he insists, pointing an accusatory finger at Matt. "And you know it."

Alex raises an eyebrow. "Don't bother explaining that. I'd rather remain oblivious."

"What's oblivious mean?"

The three of them turn as one and stare at the group of little girls standing at the end of the table, watching them curiously. Alex recovers first, clearing her throat. "It means unaware. To not know something." She gives them a stern look. "For example, are your minders oblivious to the fact that you've sneaked out of your sector and into ours?"

Olive and Holly exchange a mischievous glance before Olive shrugs. "We wanted to see you."

"Shouldn't you be eating with the other children?" Matt frowns at them all, watching Olive and Holly clamber onto the seat next to Harry. Grace climbs instantly into Alex's lap and curls up there, clinging to her.

"We already did." Holly beams. "We ate really fast."

"Well now you're going to get indigestion." Harry tugs on her pigtail, grinning when she swats him away. "Nice going, smartarse."

"Language, Harry," Alex scolds half-heartedly. Asking Harry not to swear is like asking anyone else not to breathe. "At least try."

"Sorry. Smartypants."

Holly shrugs. "S'alright. Our minders always swear a lot."

Sighing, Alex hugs Grace tightly to her and asks, "Did you have time to eat before they dragged you off?"

She nods, fiddling with the neck of Alex's t-shirt as she asks softly, "Can I play with Cadbury?"

Alex shakes her head, smoothing a hand over Grace's cheek. "Not tonight, dear. You should be headed to bed."

Eavesdropping from across the table, Olive groans. "But we just got here!"

"Oi," Harry lifts a scolding finger, waggling his brows. "No arguing. You heard mum." The moment he says it, the blood drains from Alex's face and it's been weeks since the last time Matt saw her look quite so devastated. Harry realizes his mistake only a moment later, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Jesus, Alex. I'm sorry."

She shakes her head silently, eyes already brimming over, and shifts Grace into Matt's lap. "Put them to bed, please," she says, voice wavering as she stands quickly and hurries from the canteen, her head down.

They sit in silence, staring after her. Olive is the first to speak, poking Harry in the side. "Nice going, smartarse."

Harry groans and tugs at his hair. "I'm such a fucking idiot," he mutters.

Blinking, Matt tears his gaze away from where Alex had been and shakes his head. "Just a slip of the tongue. Don't beat yourself up over it." He stands with Grace in his arms and places her on his chair by herself. "Can you look after them?"

Harry hesitates. "I think maybe she might need a minute, mate."

"And what am I supposed to do? Just sit here?"

He's right. Matt knows he's right. Harry, as ridiculous as he may be, manages to talk sense most of the time. That doesn't mean he has to like sitting idly by, knowing Alex is upset elsewhere.

"I didn't say that." Harry swats away Holly's questing hands trying to tug curiously at his beard. "You could do what Alex said and put these horrible little demons to bed." He pauses, glancing at Grace, watching them in silence through big brown eyes. "Except her. She's quiet and adorable. She can stay."

"Rude," Holly mutters, abandoning his facial hair to slump in her seat next to Olive.

Mind still preoccupied, Matt begins to herd the girls from the table and out of the canteen but the sound of Harry's voice stops him in his tracks. "When you find her, tell her I'm sorry, yeah?"

Holly tugs at his trouser leg and he bends to pick her up, settling her on his hip. "She's not upset with you, Treadaway."

"Yeah, I know." Harry fiddles with his empty pudding cup, not meeting his eyes. "Tell her anyway."

Nodding, Matt turns on his heel and walks from the canteen, Olive and Grace trailing after him. When he realizes they're struggling to keep up, he takes a deep breath and slows his stride. Alex needs some time to herself. There's no use rushing to put the girls to bed. Catching up with him, Grace slips her small hand into his and keeps her eyes on her shoes.

"Hey Gracie," he says softly, squeezing her fingers. "Alright?"

She shrugs.

He sighs. "Alex is fine, you know. She just needed some time alone."

"We make her sad," Holly mumbles against his shoulder.

"Alex said we make her happy," Olive says, tugging at the hand Grace isn't clinging to. "Was she fibbing, Matty?"

"Of course not, silly." He leads them through the long corridor leading to their sector and opens the door, allowing Olive and Grace to slip through before he enters still carrying Holly. One of the volunteers in charge of looking after the children glances up at their entry, sees the girls and throws up his hands. "Notice they were gone yet?"

The volunteer glares at the girls. "Two of our volunteers are searching for them now."

Olive giggles, waving at him.

Matt smiles thinly. "I'll put them to bed if you like."

Waving his hand, the volunteer slumps back in his seat and reaches for his communicator to alert the others. "Please do," he mutters. "Bloody kids."

Holly is already half-asleep against his shoulder as he leads them to the next room and their beds. Mindful of the other children already sleeping, he steps around their books and toys carefully, pulling back the blanket on Holly's cot first. He lays her head on her pillow and pulls the blanket up to her chin, brushing her blonde hair from her forehead. She eyes him sleepily, hand wrapped around his wrist.

He taps her nose, glancing over his shoulder to watch Grace and Olive clamber into bed by themselves. Waiting until they're both settled, he says softly, "You know Alex lost her little girl, yeah? Just like you lot lost your mums and dads."

They nod tiredly, hanging on his every word.

"Well, she tries very hard not to think about that." He shakes his head. "Sometimes she even lets herself be happy. With you three and with me. We make her happy. And when something reminds her of her little girl, she feels guilty."

Holly frowns. "Why?"

"Because she feels like she should be sad all the time," he answers honestly. "Because if she isn't sad, then it's like she's forgetting."

"That's silly," Olive mumbles sleepily. "Her little girl would want her to be happy. She makes us happy but we're not forgetting our mums and dads. They'd want Alex to take care of us."

His mouth twitching in a smile, Matt nods. "That's right. They definitely would." He ruffles Holly's hair and climbs to his feet, walking to Olive's cot and tugging the blankets tighter around her. "Alex wasn't lying when she said you three make her happy, yeah? Sometimes you just remind her that she doesn't want to be." He goes to Grace's cot and tucks her rag doll in beside her. "Now get some rest, alright?"

Grace yawns. "Will we see Alex tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." He leans down and kisses her forehead. "And Cadbury."

She nods, eyes slipping shut. "Night, Matty."

Straightening, he glances around the room at three of them quickly slipping into dreams and sighs. "Goodnight, girls."

He doesn't bother looking for Alex once he leaves the girls to sleep. He already knows where she'll be. Heading right for their room, he pushes open the door and slips inside, the knot in his chest loosening just a little at the sight of her perched on the edge of their bed, Cadbury curled up on her lap.

Slowly, he slips out of his boots and pulls his t-shirt over his head, tossing into the corner of the room. Alex doesn't turn to look at him and he scrubs a hand through his short hair, rounding their bed and settling onto the edge of it with her. At his nearness, Cadbury hisses and leaps from Alex's lap, disappearing under their bed. The damn thing hates him for some reason. Matt is happy to say the feeling is entirely mutual.

Alex still doesn't move, trembling hands folded in her lap and her face worryingly blank. She says nothing but he can feel the tension in her frame. If he reached out a hand, he's sure he could actually feel the walls she has resurrected around herself but he doesn't try to touch her, swallowing thickly.

Maybe it's time.

Scratching at his cheek, he licks his dry lips and starts to talk. "I was out with Harry when it happened. We were at a music festival." Alex says nothing but he sees her watching him out of the corner of her eye. "One minute we were listening to Arcade Fire and Harry was plotting to hook up with some bird with purple braids in her hair… the next people were screaming, stepping on each other to get back to their cars."

He's never spoken of this to anyone before. It feels so strange now. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he forges ahead. "The streets were mass chaos by the time we made it back to London proper. There were bodies, god, just everywhere. But we couldn't get out of the car, you know? Just had to drive over them." He still dreams about it sometimes, the sound it made as his tires rolled over them. "We got to Harry's place first and the only one left was his dog. And we had to kill him three days later once the infection set in. Harry was damn near catatonic for months."

"I don't remember the drive to my parents'. I just remember pulling onto our street and seeing Lor's car on the side of the road. She hadn't even made it to the house." His voice cracks and Alex reaches out instantly, her grip on his hand like a vice. "Inside… it looked like Mum had been infected. The whole place was…" He trails off, biting his lip hard. "There was a struggle. I think me dad tried to stop her. The infection hadn't set in yet. I waited. And then I put him down."

As he swallows around the lump in his throat, Alex shakes her head and blinks away tears. "Matt, I'm so sorry, darling. But… why are you telling me this?"

"Because you need to know you're not alone in your grief, Kingston. Everyone has lost someone. That doesn't mean we have to be miserable for the rest of our lives." He leans his elbows on his knees and glances to his right, watching her through his fringe. "They wouldn't want that for us. Especially Sal – you know all she ever wanted was to see you happy."

Alex leans into him, pressing her face into his shoulder blade to hide her tears. "I know," she says. "I just don't know how to do it. How do you go on and just forget?"

"You don't forget, Kingston. Not ever." He straightens and turns to take her in his arms. "But every day you get up and you live. Laugh with the girls and take care of Cadbury. Make fun of Harry. Hold my hand. And one day, it won't hurt so much to remember."

Nestled in the crook of his arm, Alex sniffles, nodding her head. He draws her down with him onto the mattress, cradling her to his chest. "How do you always know the right thing to say?"

"I never know what to say." He kisses the top of her head. "I just talk and hope it makes sense."

She releases a watery chuckle, winding an arm around his waist. "Well, it's very effective."

In that moment, with her warm and solid weight against him, her red curls in his face and her fingers stroking reassuringly up and down his side, he wants to tell her he loves her. She won't believe him, he imagines, and he'll be forced to kiss her until she does. Instead, he holds her a little tighter and says, "I'm glad."

She hums and kisses his neck, her eyelashes still wet as they brush his skin.

He shivers. "The girls are in bed."

"Thank you.'" She lifts her head. "Were they upset? I shouldn't have left them like that."

He shakes his head. "Well, a little. But I talked to them and they understand. Gracie'll want to see you first thing tomorrow though."

"Of course. And Harry?"

"Is very sorry."

"Idiot. He has no reason to be." She sighs fondly, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Her eyes are tired and red but she looks so much better than she had when he came in. "I'll talk to him in the morning."

"And now?"

She strokes his fringe from his brow, her touch warm and gentle. "Just hold me?"

He smiles softly, pulling her into his arms and wrapping her up tight, relishing her curls tickling his nose and her fingers digging into his biceps. Her lips brush his bare chest and he whispers, "As long as you'll let me, Kingston."

the war outside our door keeps raging on

Chapter Summary

"Kingston, we're raiding the medical school for supplies," he mutters, turning back to the open fridge before him and scanning the neatly labeled syringes for something the doctors in the bunker could use. He can't decide and just gathers them all, dropping them into his increasingly burgeoning satchel. "We're not Christmas shopping."

Chapter Notes

Chapter title from Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift and the Civil Wars.

He doesn't know how they managed it but they actually found a floor of King's College that hasn't been looted clean yet. While Alex keeps a lookout, he stuffs medical supplies into his satchel, quickly scanning the room and rummaging through fridges, cabinets, and drawers for anything useful.

"Darling, look." She holds up a stethoscope. "The girls would love this."

Well, Alex is supposed to be keeping a lookout.

"Kingston, we're raiding the medical school for supplies," he mutters, turning back to the open fridge before him and scanning the neatly labeled syringes for something the doctors in the bunker could use. He can't decide and just gathers them all, dropping them into his increasingly burgeoning satchel. "We're not Christmas shopping."

"Oh hush." Alex slips the satchel into her bag and slinks up to him, smiling. "They're mine and I'm spoiling them."

Turning, he grins at her. "Yours, huh? You know, they were my girls well before they even knew you."

She huffs a few curls from her eyes and sniffs at him. "I'll share if I must."

Still smiling like an idiot, he leans in and kisses her, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck to drag her in close. On her tiptoes, Alex presses against him and he can feel her lips curving beneath his. It makes his heart leap in his chest. She's happy. For now, they both are. It's the little moments – even bickering and snogging in an abandoned medical school – Matt has learned to savor.

Pulling away, Alex watches him through hooded eyes and licks her lips. "Come on, then," she says softly, completely oblivious to the way his stomach somersaults. "Let's finish up and go home."

Letting his hand fall from her neck but not before trailing softly along her jaw first, Matt takes a deep breath and shakes off the fluttering feeling of complete adoration he gets whenever she's near, turning back to his task as Alex retreats to the doorway to keep watch. After another few minutes of stuffing nearly everything he can fit into his satchel, he's just about finished. He opens his mouth to tell Alex they can go when they both hear a crash from the floor below them.

Alex gasps softly, whirling to look at Matt. "They're here."

Cursing, Matt closes his satchel, adjusts it over his shoulder, and races to the nearest window, looking out. "They're not in the alley. Come on, we'll use the fire escape."

Moving from the hallway, Alex shuts and locks the door as the noises from downstairs grow louder. She already has her gun in hand, eyes fiercely determined as she strides to the window and joins him in looking out. "Once we're down, we'll go around the back," she says. "I doubt they came in that way. Door's trickier."

He nods in agreement, struggling to shove the neglected window up so they can climb through. The noises from downstairs have moved up and they can hear quick, agile footsteps in the hallway outside the door. "You first," he says, pushing her forward. "Quietly, yeah?"

He helps her climb through the window, a hand on her elbow, and she waits on the landing for him to slip out after her. He catches his foot on the window ledge and stumbles, nearly dropping his satchel. Alex steadies him, helping unhook his foot from the window and shoving the strap of his satchel back up his shoulder. "Honestly Matthew," she says in a hushed voice. "How did you ever escape from these things alive without me?"

"No idea," he admits, and flashes her a quick grin as the door in the room behind them begins to rattle.

The fire escape makes a racket no matter how softly they try to move, squeaking and rattling with every step they take. So they give up trying to be stealthy and just try to be quick instead, reaching the bottom of the fire escape and leaping to the alley beneath them. Alex lands on her feet and steadies Matt again when he stumbles, her hand tight in his.

They walk quickly but quietly around the back of the building, winding through the alley and stumbling out onto the main road a few blocks away. Alex tucks her gun back into her trousers and breathes a sigh of relief as the immediate danger passes. "That was a bit too close for comfort, darling."

He laughs, slipping his fingers into the belt loop of her jeans to tug her into his side. "We've had worse," he argues mildly, kissing her hair.

Before she can answer, the sound of snarling reaches their ears and they whirl to find about three infected behind them, fast approaching. They were followed. Growling under her breath, Alex reaches for her gun again as Matt scrambles for his. Clicking off the safety, she snaps, "You just had to say it, didn't you?"

"Sorry," he says, wincing. "But hey, as a gesture of contrition, I'll let you shoot first."

"Such a gentleman," she purrs, and god, he hasn't heard that particular voice since her days as River Song. Alex looks a bit like her now, her whole frame vibrating with adrenaline, gun cocked, her eyes bright and her hair wild. Despite the situation, he feels a frisson of desire trickle up his spine at the sight of her.

Alex fires at the leader of the little pack advancing toward them and it only makes matters worse for Matt when she shoots it right between the eyes. "Someone's been practicing," he mutters, heat curling in his belly.

She glances over her shoulder at him with laughter in her eyes. "Can't have you thinking you're a better shot than me, can I? What would River say?"

Laughing, he turns from her and manages to actually focus, firing another bullet in the head of the next one too. There's only one left, closer than ever. He stumbles back, pulling Alex with him, and fires again. He misses, clipping it in the shoulder.

This only serves to make it angrier. The infected roars, visage twisted in a nasty snarl as it picks up speed. Matt thinks about running but they'd never be fast enough. Besides, the thing is close enough to hear their heartbeats now. It could track them for miles with just that alone.

Alex shoots and misses, swearing profusely.

The infected lunges at them and Matt drops to the ground to avoid it, yanking Alex with him. Lying on his belly in the debris littering the street, he raises his arm again as the infected turns around, head tilted to listen for the sound of their rapid breathing and racing hearts. "Fuck off, mate," he mutters, and fires.

It drops to the ground, diseased blood pooling on the asphalt. Matt stands slowly, helping Alex to her feet, and the touch of her hand tingles all through him like an electric current. She's breathing hard, staring at him with dark eyes, pupils dilated. His stomach twists.

She dusts herself off, ruffling her hair and shaking it free of brick and ash. "The others will have heard that."

Tucking his revolver away, Matt suggests, "Leg it?"

She nods. "Definitely."

They run the rest of the way back to the bunker, adrenaline and desire fueling their journey. The last few rays of sunlight are just disappearing as they descend underground and go through security, still panting. Matt leaves his findings for them to sort through and Alex drags him through crowded corridors. He isn't the least bit surprised when she opens the door to their room and shoves him inside.

"Not even showering first?" He asks teasingly as she shuts the door. "You really want me, don't you, Kingston?"

"Shut up," she mumbles, and yanks him down to her by the collar of his shirt.

Her kiss is bone-meltingly hot and Matt slides his hands down her back with a shudder, pulling her top up and over her head. He drops his mouth to her neck, sucking and biting, tasting sweat as Alex fumbles for the button and zipper on his jeans. "You are a clumsy idiot," she hisses, and he nods mindlessly in agreement, yanking roughly at the clasp on her bra and stripping it off her.

"How you made it this far without me, I've no idea."

"Your fault," he mumbles, toeing out of his boots. Letting her shove his trousers and pants down his hips, he kicks them aside and grasps her hips, grinding his erection against her jean-clad thigh with a moan. "You're distracting,"

She sighs softly, tugging off his shirt so roughly she nearly rips it in half. "Want me to stay here and let you go alone then?"

"Not a chance," he says, and releases a low moan as she wraps a hand around his cock, guiding him backwards and to their bed. He drops onto the mattress, scooting across their joined cots to balance just right – the last thing he wants right now is a repeat of that first night. Alex sheds her jeans and knickers before climbing onto the bed and he can only stare at her bare golden skin, slick with sweat, feeling his brain short circuit as she straddles him. "You are so fucking sexy."

She kisses her way up his stomach but she isn't gentle about it, sinking her teeth into his skin and leaving red marks as she goes. When she reaches his throat, he's gripping her hips tightly and panting, quite sure that even if she wanted to use those gleaming teeth to rip out his jugular, he'd let her. Instead, she licks a long stripe up his throat and ends with a playful nip to his chin.

It's all the foreplay she allows before she takes his cock in hand again and guides him to her entrance. He can feel the head radiating from her core, her arousal slick against the head of his erection. "Oh Jesus, Alex," he breathes, meeting her eyes as she sinks down on him. "Oh fuck."

Heat envelops his cock and he releases a guttural groan, hips lifting off the bed to drive himself deeper. Alex keens, tossing her head back as he fills her. She doesn't give either of them time to adjust and he can only stare up at her in awe as she begins to move. Smeared with dirt and sweat, her red curls a tumbling mess down her back, she has never looked more incredible than she does now, sliding up and down his cock, palming her own breast. Smoothing his hands up her thighs and over her hips, he pushes her hands aside to replace them with his own.

God, he loves her breasts. They're perfect, overflowing in his hand, and he greedily watches rounded flesh spill over as he squeezes. "Gorgeous." He lifts his hips again to watch her eyes flutter and roll back. "So utterly -"Alex drops her hands to his chest and begins to grind in slow circles, mouth open and head tipped back to let the ends of her hair brush the small of her back. Matt chokes on a moan, watching her stomach muscles undulate as she moves. "That's it, Kingston," he whispers gruffly. "Fuck me. Just like that, sweetheart."

Leaning down, hands on either side of his head, Alex grinds her hips and moans his name desperately. He grasps her waist, pushing up to create some friction between his abdomen and her

clit. She fists her hands in the sheets, crying out, and he slides a hand down her back to grip her arse, thrusting against her again and again as she babbles his name and her swollen clit throbs.

She arches on top of him, her breasts right in his face, and when she teases a nipple against his lips, he opens his mouth eagerly to suckle. She gasps as his tongue snakes out to taste the sweat on her skin, hips jerking and hands white-knuckled in the sheets. "Oh god," she breathes. "More -"

He sucks harder, gripping her tightly to him, and rolls them over. Suddenly spread out beneath him, Alex stares up at him in the dark, eyes glittering and unfocused as he sinks inside her again. She wraps her legs around his waist tightly, her nails already digging into his back as he starts a hard, fast rhythm. They slide together perfectly, skin slick with sweat and mouths hot and greedy. Within moments, they're both screaming.

Panting harshly, Matt rolls over onto his back and stares into the dark, chest heaving. Again, the urge to tell her how much he loves her is nearly overwhelming, but he stifles it with, "God, you're incredible."

Alex laughs softly, reaching across the mattress to find his hand. "Mutual, darling," she says, and links their fingers together. "But we should get up and shower while everyone's eating."

He frowns into his pillow. "But then we'll miss dinner."

"Well we can't go smelling like blood and sex."

That description from her mouth should not cause such stirrings of arousal. "Why not?"

"Matthew."

He sighs, dragging himself into a sitting position. "Fine. But let's hurry up. I want pudding."

By the time they stumble out of the shower, the canteen has closed for the evening. Matt's stomach rumbles as they trudge back to their room. It's times like these he really misses having his own kitchen. Blimey, even a late night run to Tesco would be amazing right about now. His mind wanders to his old favorite – egg and cress sandwiches, always fresh and delicious in the store's deli – and his mouth waters. Groaning, he shoves the image aside before it turns into a real craving.

As he falls into bed beside Alex, his stomach grumbles again, audibly this time. He pats his belly, shrugging when Alex winces. "At least I'll really appreciate breakfast."

She curls into his side, her damp hair filling his nostrils with the clean scent of soap. "I'm sorry, darling. We should have gone to dinner first."

"Smelling of blood and sex?" He affects a scandalized gasp. "Kingston, I'm not one of your whores."

She snorts, elbowing him in the side. "Shut up and go to sleep, idiot."

He just about manages to do just that, warm beneath their blanket and Alex cuddled close against him, when he hears the door to their room creak open. Half asleep, he lifts his head groggily from his pillow and watches the door shut. Dozing against his shoulder, Alex doesn't see the three little shadows moving closer to the bed but he does, squinting in the dark. He sees of flash of little red cowboy boots and grins.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

"You missed dinner," Olive whispers back, sounding cross.

"Sorry," he says softly. "We got back too late. Did you eat with Harry?"

She nods. "We brought back Cadbury."

Matt peers behind her and sees Grace holding the cat in her arms. With Alex feeding him, the animal has gotten quite fat and nearly overwhelms poor little Grace. "Was he a pain?"

Grace shakes her head. "He likes me."

That he does. While Alex feeds him ridiculous amounts of food and cuddles him, Grace plays with him and reads him stories. They're the only two people Cadbury seems to tolerate. "Well, thank you for looking after him while we were gone. I know Alex appreciates how great you are

with him."

Grace blushes and allows Cadbury to leap from her arms and onto the bed. Immediately, the cat jumps from the bed and disappears beneath it, as far from everyone as he can get.

"Matty?" Holly tugs at his arm, biting her lip. "Can we sleep here tonight?"

He sighs, watching their hopeful faces. "Girls, I don't think that's a good idea. You should be in your own beds."

"Just for tonight," Olive pleads. "Not all the time."

"It's such a long walk back," Holly pouts. "And it's so dark."

"Oh well played," Matt grumbles, lifting the blanket. "Come on then."

Immediately, Grace scrambles onto the bed and tucks herself into Alex's side, waking her. She blinks open her eyes and frowns at the curly-haired bundle nestled against her before slowly lifting her gaze to find Holly clinging to Matt and Olive squished between both of them. "What -?"

He offers her a sheepish grin. "We have visitors, Kingston."

She sighs, threading her fingers through Grace's curls. "Goodnight, girls."

A chorus of three little voices rings out, "G'night, Alex."

"Darling, have you seen Cadbury?" Matt glances up from rummaging beneath Harry's cot – there's bound to be alcohol somewhere in this mess – to find Alex standing over him with a frown, Grace clinging to her side. "Grace wanted to play with him but I can't find him anywhere."

"Not since this morning," he says, and sticks his head beneath Harry's cot again. "He was chasing a mouse through security."

"Security?" If he were paying closer attention, he would hear the disapproval in Alex's voice, but he's too busy trying to blindly locate a bottle of whiskey before Harry comes back and finds him. "That's right by the exit."

"Uh huh."

"You didn't think to stop him?"

"Should I have?"

Alex sighs. "Considering he could have slipped out the door the moment anyone left, yes, I imagine you should have."

"Cadbury's gone?" Grace's voice wobbles as she tugs on Alex's hand. At the sound of it, Matt gives up his search for booze and sits up, smacking his head against the edge of Harry's cot as he does so.

Biting back a curse, he rubs at his head and watches Alex stoop to look Grace in the eye with a smile. "I'm sure he's perfectly fine, dear. Probably roaming about down here somewhere, stalking that mouse."

Grace watches her skeptically. "Then why can't we find him?"

"Because he doesn't want to be found," Matt answers quickly. "Cats are like that, Gracie. Sometimes they just want to be alone for a bit."

Alex nods encouragingly. "That's right. He'll show up when he's ready."

Still looking unconvinced, Grace bites her lip and nods.

Stroking her cheek, Alex smiles. "Why don't you go back to mine and Matty's room to wait for him to come back, hmm?"

Grace hugs her legs before she leaves and Alex waits until she leaves the room before turning on Matt with a frown he'd been expecting. "Why would you let him wander that far?"

He sifts a hand through his hair guiltily. "I don't know. I just wasn't thinking. Besides, that cat hates me. Even if I'd tried to go anywhere near him, he'd have scratched me to pieces."

"Well you'd better hope he turns up soon or you and I are going out looking for him."

He groans. "Kingston, he's a cat. They're silent, sneaky animals. He'll be fine. Or he'll be eaten as a snack."

She narrows her eyes at him.

He sighs. "Give it twenty four hours first?"

"No more than that," she warns, perching on the edge of Harry's cot. "Now what are you doing in here?"

"Looking for booze."

"Why?"

He shrugs.

"Oh yes, very subtle," she laughs, reaching out to pet his hair. "What are you hiding?"

Leaning into her touch, he frowns up at her. "Well, I was going to ask you on a proper date but you're ruining it."

"A proper date?" She laughs again, eyes bright as she stares at him in confusion. "Darling, that's very sweet but where? In the middle of an infected city?"

"None of your business, Kingston." He nudges her hand away from his hair, smirking. "Are you accepting my invitation or not?"

Studying him in silence for a moment, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Alex finally smiles. "Alright. Pick me up at eight?"

"It's a date."

He spends the rest of the day plotting, pulling Harry into his scheme. It isn't much but Alex has been through a lot and more than anything, he just wants to make her happy. Under normal circumstances, he would woo her with flowers and dinners and tickets to see shows. He would text her every morning and every night to let her know she was on his mind when he woke up and before he went to bed. But these aren't normal circumstances and so far, all he's given her is a gun and some shooting lessons. He's determined to fix that tonight – a mass infection and the end of civilization is no reason not to woo a woman like Alex.

There's a little storage closet filled with all the clothes he's managed to bring back over the years and after a bit of rummaging, he actually finds a dress that will fit Alex. It's simple black dress with sheer sleeves – far too tame for Alex's usual bohemian flare – but it's certainly a step up from jeans and t-shirts.

He lays the dress out on their bed for her and slips away before Alex comes back from her rotations. It's become a bit of a routine to tuck the girls in every night, though he doesn't know how or when the habit began. It feels natural now, like something they've always done. Usually, Alex reads to them before bed but tonight, Matt tucks them in alone.

"Where's Alex?" Holly asks for at least the third time.

Patiently tucking her in once more, Matt adjusts his bowtie – another salvage from the clothing storage – and says, "She's getting ready."

"What for?"

"To have dinner."

"Dinner is over," Olive points out.

"This is a special dinner," he says, smiling. "So go to sleep and Alex will see you all in the morning, alright?"

Holly and Olive huff their grudging consent but he still hasn't heard a peep from Grace. She's been more quiet than usual this evening. Knowing she's likely still fretting over Cadbury's disappearance, Matt crouches by her bed and taps the end of her nose with a smile. "Cadbury's a smart little beast. I wouldn't worry about him."

She nods, curling onto her side away from him and shutting her eyes without a word.

Matt sighs, leaning in to kiss the back of her head. "Goodnight, Gracie."

It's nearly eight as he leaves the girls to sleep so he heads back to the room he shares with Alex, trying to push Grace's little face from his mind. She's been so much happier lately, so much more talkative, and now she seems to be headed backwards again. If that damn cat doesn't turn up tomorrow, he'll actually have to go searching for it just to bring that smile back.

When he reaches their room, he pauses to knock and Alex answers almost instantly, standing in the doorway with a smile. "Good evening, sir."

He gapes at her. The dress fits her perfectly, clinging to every reemerging curve he so loves. She has pinned back half of her hair, leaving the rest flowing down her shoulders, and he doesn't know how she'd done it in an underground bunker but she'd managed to find lipstick somewhere because her lips are red and begging to be kissed.

Looking a little self-conscious, Alex plucks at the skirt of her dress, glancing down at her bare feet. "What do you think?"

Finally forcing himself from his wide-eyed stupor, Matt takes her hand in his and manages, "Well,

if we held beauty pageants during the apocalypse, you'd definitely win."

She rolls her eyes, looking up at him again with a smile that he might almost call shy if she were anyone but Alex. "Thank you, darling. You look -" Her eyes drop to his bowtie and she laughs brightly, reaching out to straighten it with practiced ease. "You look very dashing. Almost like a real person instead of a dirty wild man with a gun."

"You like my gun." He winks, holding out his arm to her. "Shall we then?"

She grins, slipping her arm through his. "I suppose so."

The canteen is deserted by now; even the kitchen staff has left. The room is dark save for the lit candles artfully arranged around the room. Matt leads her to a table lit with candles and holding a vase of wildflowers he'd picked outside the bunker earlier today.

He pulls out her chair for her and she laughs, glancing around as she sits. "The whole room to ourselves?" She asks, and he loves how delighted she sounds by such a simple feat. "How romantic."

"Only the best for you, Kingston," he winks, sliding into the seat across from her.

As if to punctuate his statement, their waiter appears from the kitchen, towel slung over his shoulder and ridiculous black pencil mustache drawn on over his beard. Matt drops his head into his hands and sighs as Harry begins in an obnoxious French accent, "Good evening, Madame. May I interest you in a glass of wine this evening?"

Alex bites her lip against a bout of giggles, blinking up at Harry in silence for a moment. "I -" She glances at Matt. "Darling?"

Stifling his own exasperated laughter, Matt says, "Just bring it out, idiot."

Turning on his heel and retreating to the kitchen, Harry mutters, "Rude Englishman."

Alex begins to giggle the moment he's gone, a hand pressed to her mouth.

Shaking his head, Matt reaches for her hand, pulling it away so he can see her smile. "He'll take any opportunity to do a bit of acting."

"Perhaps we should start a theatre," she says, still grinning. "We could reenact plays from memory every Friday night as entertainment for everyone."

Matt laughs. "Don't even mention that to him. He'll make us do it."

Harry comes back with their food on two trays and though there is no wine, there is definitely a bottle of whiskey and it's more than they've had in a few months. Alex lights up at the sight of it, snatching the bottle from the tray and uncapping it. "Thank you, Harry," she says, reaching for the glasses. "I mean, Monsieur."

Harry bows deeply, grasping her hand to kiss it.

Matt scowls, swatting him away. "You're dismissed." Draping the towel over Matt's head, Harry leaves them alone, still bowing like an idiot until he reaches the end of the room, at which point he turns and walks off, wiping off his mustache as he goes.

"Idiot," Matt says fondly, yanking the towel from his head.

Alex hands him a glass. "An idiot who gave us whiskey."

"Mm," he says, and takes a moment to indulge in the warm burn of alcohol sliding down his throat. "I didn't say he wasn't a lovely idiot."

She smirks at him over the rim of her glass and takes a sip, setting her drink aside. Her lips have left a red print around the edge and Matt finds himself inexplicably jealous of a cup.

Glancing up, he catches her eye across the candlelit table and asks, "Dance with me, Kingston?"

She laughs again and Christ, he is rapidly becoming addicted to the sound. "Darling, there isn't any music."

Ignoring her protest, Matt stands and rounds the table, holding out a hand to her. Alex looks beautiful as she accepts, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling, the candlelight dancing across her skin and the hem of her dress twirling around her knees as she stands. He pulls her into his arms and holds her close, humming softly. "How's this?"

She smiles into his shoulder. "Much better."

They sway together in silence for a while, Alex pressed close to him and the sweet scent of her making him feel warm and relaxed, like a good dream. "I'm so glad I found you," he whispers.

Alex presses her lips softly to the underside of his jaw. "So am I."

"I thought about you often," he admits quietly, stroking his fingers up and down her back. "After the outbreak. I wondered what happened to you, if you'd survived." He swallows nervously but pushes on. There will never be a better time to say it than now. "I wondered what it would have been like if I'd ever told you how I felt about you."

She lifts her head from his shoulder, red lips parted in surprise. "What?"

"And then there you were," he smiles down at her, eyes soft. "Like a second chance."

She breathes in quietly, gazing up at him. "Don't do this, Matt. You said it yourself – I'm just all you have left."

"Kingston, you've never been just anything." He breaks into a grin, sweeping her hair from her eyes and cupping her cheek. "I love you, Alex. I've always been absolutely mad about you. Even when I thought I'd lost you for good."

"Matt, I -" She purses her lips, eyes filling up.

His heart sinks but he shakes his head firmly, thumb sweeping over her cheekbone softly. "It's alright; you don't have to say it back. I just… I couldn't stand keeping it to myself any longer. Figured now was as good a time as any." He smiles. "Better than blurting it out during sex, yeah?"

She chokes out a laugh. "You mean a lot to me too, you know."

"Yeah?"

Taking his hand from her cheek, she places it above the neckline of her dress. Her skin is warm beneath his hand. It's not exactly a declaration of love but it's more than he ever thought he'd have. A few months ago, he thought she was dead. Now, she's in his arms, not quite whole but getting there. He kisses her again, finding solace in the way her heart's steady rhythm picks up speed when his lips touch hers.

Alex offers him a wobbly smile as they part. "You revived a heart I thought would never feel anything again."

He shakes his head. "I didn't do anything."

"You did everything . You and Harry and the girls. But mostly you – you and your bloody minded determination not to let me opt out just because the world has gone to shit." She sighs, taking his face in her hands and making him look her square in the eye. "You're the only reason I'm still here."

He swallows thickly, heart thumping madly in his chest. "No pressure or anything."

Alex laughs. "You're doing fine, darling. Just don't go anywhere."

"That's it?"

She nods, patting his cheek. "That's it."

"Well." He offers her a watery grin, bumping his nose against hers. "I think I can manage that."

when god is gone and the devil takes hold

Chapter Summary

He hears something snap in two on impact with the ground and white-hot pain shoots up and down his arm. He cries out but there's no time to panic. Just keep them away from Alex.

Chapter Notes

One chapter left! Chapter title from O Death by Jen Titus.

He wakes in the morning to Alex's hand on his arm, shaking him, and her voice in his ear. "Matt, wake up. Matt -"

Swatting her away, he groans and opens his eyes to find her looming over him, holding a fluffy and very much alive and tetchy Cadbury in her arms. "Found him?" He mumbles, and rolls over again.

"He came back this morning. But darling, Grace isn't here."

"Course not," he says into his pillow. "Go wake her. She'll be happy."

"Matt, you need to get up. Are you listening?"

He huffs, rolling back over and cracking his eyes open to squint up at her. "What?"

"I did go to wake Grace," she says, and as the sleepy haze clouding his brain begins to fade, he realizes just how pale Alex looks, and how rumpled her curls are from running her fingers through it. "But she wasn't in her room. And the girls haven't seen her all morning."

Heart skipping a beat, he sits up instantly and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "Okay, hang on. Don't panic." He scrubs a tired hand over his face and tries to think clearly. "Have you tried looking anywhere else for her? She could be wandering around looking for Cadbury again."

"Of course I checked." Alex frowns. "I wouldn't have bothered waking you if I hadn't. I've looked everywhere."

"So did we."

Raising his head quickly, Matt finds Olive and Holly hovering in the doorway. "You two didn't hear her get up this morning?"

Olive shakes her head. "When we woke up, she was already gone."

"Jesus, where the hell is she then?" Matt leaps to his feet, stumbling to his jeans and pulling them on over his boxers. He grabs a t-shirt and pulls that on too, reaching for his boots. "I'll get Harry and we'll -"

"I've got Harry and a few people on the security team searching the whole compound for her." Alex sinks down onto the bed, visibly shaking. "She couldn't have gotten outside, could she?"

"No," he answers instantly, but the more he thinks about it, the more he wonders. She's such a little thing and so sodding quiet. "I mean, I don't think so. Why would she go out anyway? She knows how dangerous it is."

"I don't know, but she isn't here, so where the hell else could she be?" Alex blinks away tears, stroking the top of Cadbury's head.

Matt glances at the girls watching them fearfully, and sits next to Alex with a sigh. "I'm sure she's fine, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, all right? Deep breaths."

Before she can even attempt to do as he asks, Harry appears behind the girls in the doorway. For once he isn't grinning like an idiot or cracking a joke. He swallows hard and wipes a hand over his mouth, reluctant to speak. Finally, he says, "We can't find her."

Heart sinking, Matt squeezes his eyes shut.

Alex sags against his side, clutching his hand. "Matt, where is she?" Her voice wavers, as thin and fragile as china. "I can't do this again. I can't-"

Eyes snapping open, he grips her hand tight enough to stall the rest of her words in her throat. Other hand reaching up to hold her chin, he makes her look directly at him, hazel eyes fierce and determined as he gazes into hers. "Don't you dare cry for her. Not yet."

She nods immediately, blinking away tears.

"Stay strong for me, yeah? I need you to hold it together, Alex."

Stricken but determined, she sets her jaw. "Okay." She swallows, nodding again, and he can almost see the walls going up around her. "Okay."

He squeezes her hands again, kissing her knuckles, and lets go, turning to Harry. "We need the security tapes."

"I can get you in," he says instantly. "Come on."

Alex deposits Cadbury on the bed and turns to Olive and Holly. "I need you two to stay right here and look after him. Don't wander off." She stoops to look them directly in the eye. "One lost little girl is enough for one day, understand?"

Olive nods solemnly. Holly hugs her leg.

"Good girls." Matt ruffles their hair and smiles. "We'll be back soon."

As Harry leads them to the surveillance room, Matt takes Alex's hand and keeps her close, letting her grip his fingers as tightly as she needs to. "How are you going to get us in?"

Harry shrugs. "I know someone."

"A girl someone?"

"Shut up, she's nice alright?"

Matt smiles.

Harry's new girl – Matt is fairly certain her name is Chloe – lets them into the surveillance room with a frown of disapproval. "Harry, I said I would meet you after my shift." She dodges his hello kiss with a faint smile but allows him to tug playfully at the long braid hanging over her shoulder. "You shouldn't be here."

"Not here for personal reasons, love." He scratches his beard, watching her from beneath his lashes, and Matt wonders if that bashful grin is actually genuine or a ploy to get what he wants. For Chloe's sake, he hopes it's the former. "I need you to do something for me. Well, for them." He gestures behind him where Matt and Alex stand, clutching hands and wearing grim faces.

Chloe sobers instantly. "Alright, with me, then."

Harry follows her back to her post, leading Matt and Alex behind him. "We've got a missing five year old. Can you pull up the feed from last night, maybe early this morning?"

She sits down in front of a screen and starts tapping at the keyboard with rapid strokes. "Just a mo'. You can sit if you like."

Matt can't think about sitting right now, not with Grace who bloody knows where, and apparently Alex feels the same way because she doesn't move or let go of his hand, her eyes fastened on the screen as Chloe brings up the security feed from the night before. She fast-forwards through hours of empty corridors and the feed winds down to the early hours of the morning.

"There!" Matt shoves Harry out of the way and points at the screen, where a little figure moves quickly and silently along the wall. "There she is."

Chloe slows down the feed and they watch in silent horror as Grace navigates the endless corridors and eventually makes her way past security and up, out into the world above. Chloe gapes at the screen and Harry scrubs a hand over his face, swearing.

Matt stares unblinkingly at the place where she disappeared, mind racing. She just left. She just walked out the door. Why the hell would she –

"Someone please tell me," Alex begins in a quiet, unsteady voice. "How in the hell does a five year old child just waltz out of a high security bunker in the middle of the night?"

Chloe turns to look at her, wide-eyed. "We don't often monitor who's leaving. We keep a close eye on the armory and most of our guards are posted to scan those coming back. We don't much care who leaves."

"Yes, because it's not your responsibility who gets eaten or infected. You only want to make sure your guns are safe and no one comes back to infect the whole sorry sodding lot of you!"

"Alex," Matt reaches for her hand but she snatches it away, glaring. "Calm down, sweetheart. This isn't Chloe's fault."

"No, I know." She takes a deep breath, turning from them to run a shaking hand through her hair. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Chloe watches her with sympathy. "She left about two hours ago. She can't be far."

Turning, Alex locks eyes with Matt and he nods, rising quickly to his feet. "Let's go."

Harry leaps from his chair. "Wait, I'm coming with you."

Alex whirls on him. "No, I need you here."

"What? No way, I can help you two idiots -"

"I have no doubt, Harry, honestly." Alex grips him by the front of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks. "I would rather you did come with us. But I need you to keep an eye on Olive and Holly. Please, Harry. I won't be able to concentrate if I think they could follow us out."

Grudgingly, he nods. "Fine. But the next time one of your brats makes a great escape, I'm going. We can leave the clumsy one."

She smiles, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, dear."

They make a brief, frantic visit to the armory before they leave, loading up on ammunition. It only takes a few minutes before they're stalking past security and on their way up and out. As the stench of death and decay pervades their senses, Alex scrubs at her eyes, clearly trying to remain the pillar of strength she promised him she would be. "I just don't understand. Why would she leave?"

"Cadbury," Matt says, and the instant the word leaves his mouth, he knows it's true.

Alex turns to look at him as they move rapidly along, scanning the perimeter for any sign of Grace. "What?"

"Last night she seemed upset. I told her he'd be back but she didn't seem to believe me. I was in such a hurry to get to you and our date, I just didn't take the time to -" He tugs a hand through his hair, guilt eating away at him. "She went looking for Cadbury. Jesus, this is all my fault."

"Matt, no." Alex steps in front of him, halting him with bright green eyes and a hand on his chest. "It isn't anyone's fault and certainly not yours. But I need you right now. I need you to focus."

"Sorry." He shakes his head, squaring his jaw. "I'm here."

"Good." She releases a breath. "Now what's the plan?"

"Find her. Shoot anything that tries to stop us."

"Perfect."

The sun is just starting to come up and Matt squints against the light, scanning the horizon for any sign of Grace. They walk quickly through the devastated landscape, searching in silence. Alex's gun smacks against her thigh as she moves, the only sound for miles. It's still unnerving, walking through London and not hearing a damn thing.

The park is empty, so is the first toy store they come across, and what used to be a pet shop two doors down from it. Alex is getting increasingly anxious, though she tries to hide it from him. He can see it in every twitch of her fingers against her trigger guard, every time she scans the area and sees no sign of Grace. Her eyes are alert but somehow still far away, like even as she searches for Grace, she's reliving the loss of another little girl. She looks like she's in a nightmare no amount of screaming will wake her from.

"I can't do this again."

She blinks at the sound of his voice, eyes clearing as she turns to look at him. "What?"

He licks his lips, meeting her gaze. "That's what you said when we realized Grace was gone. You said 'I can't do this again'. And I just need to say you aren't the only one who can't go down that road."

She stares at him, eyes pained. "Matt -"

"No, I mean it. I can't lose you either, Alex. Not to the infected and certainly not to your memories and regrets." He grabs her wrist, pulling her to a stop in the middle of the street. "No matter what happens or what we find out here, you are not giving up on me, do you understand? Not again."

She blinks hard, gazing up at him in silence.

"You said I was the only reason you're still alive." A lump forms in his throat but he speaks around it, voice wavering. "Well, I'm still here. And you don't get to tap out and leave me here because things are shit again. Things are always going to be shit, Alex. That's how the world is now. But we fight it. Together. We make something worth living for out of all this. I can't do it alone. Not anymore."

Alex says nothing for a long moment, eyes dropping to his hand on her wrist. She pulls and he releases her, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. Slowly, she laces their fingers together and lifts her watery gaze to his. "I won't leave you alone, Matt."

He squeezes her hand, swallowing thickly. "Okay."

They start walking again, hand in hand. "But we'll find her, won't we?"

Matt says nothing, knowing he can only offer her platitudes she won't want to hear or promises she might hate him for later. A five-year-old little girl out here on her own? It would be a miracle if she hasn't been bitten yet – or worse. He can't tell Alex that. He's sure she already knows anyway. But he won't lie to her either. So he keeps a tight hold on her hand and focuses instead of finding the one person who can take that haunted look from her eyes. Come on, Gracie. Where are you?

About three miles away from the bunker, the screaming starts.

With a quick, terrified glance at each other, they start running towards the sound. The scream mixes with the chilling snarl of a group of infected and it echoes all around them, bouncing off buildings and traveling on the wind until it feels like the noises are coming from everywhere at once. Even the sound of her scream fills Matt with hope because it means there is still something left of Grace – she's alive, wherever she is.

It's the sight of the infected that finally gives her location away, all of them standing around clawing at the ground and growling. "Where is she?" Alex grips his arm tightly. "I don't see her."

"That's because she's hiding." Matt says grimly. "Right in there." He nods toward the small crevice between one collapsed building and the next, a space just small enough for a child to crawl through. "They can't get to her."

"Well neither can we." Alex draws her gun from the waistband of her trousers and clicks off the safety. "We need a distraction."

"I'll do it. You get Grace."

"Matt -"

"Not up for discussion, Kingston." She's mad if she thinks he's going to let her draw the ire of five infected while he runs off with Grace. He takes her face in his hands as she starts to protest again, pressing a hard kiss to her mouth before shoving her roughly away. "Go."

Not leaving her with a choice, he raises his gun in the air and fires.

The response from the infected is instantaneous. Forgetting about Grace completely, they turn and stare with unseeing eyes right in Matt's direction. He swallows, watching Alex edge closer to Grace's hiding spot with her weapon drawn. "Over here," he shouts, and they start slowly toward him. "Come on, that's it. Right this way, you little bastards."

Before he can so much as slip his finger into the trigger guard of his gun, one of them moves with superhuman speed to tackle him. He hears something snap in two on impact with the ground and white-hot pain shoots up and down his arm. He cries out but there's no time to panic. Just keep them away from Alex. His arm is useless so he lifts with his hips, rolling the infected under him and keeping it in place with a knee pressed to its gut. Panting, he presses the barrel of his gun to its forehead.

It thrashes beneath him, trying to buck him off, and it almost succeeds. Matt falls to the ground next to it with a pained groan but as the infected whirls on him with a snarl, he raises his gun with his good arm and shoots it in the face.

There isn't time to get up before the next one is on him, mouth already open to bite. Shooting with his left hand isn't quite as accurate and the bullet hits it in the shoulder, making it stumble back with a wounded shriek. Matt stumbles to his feet, cradling his arm to his chest, but he doesn't get the chance to deliver the killing shot before the third and fourth infected assault him at once.

He manages to shoot one in the leg, buying him just enough time to incapacitate the other with a swift kick to the chest. It staggers under the blow, wheezing, and Matt uses its moment of weakness to shoot it in the head, straining hard to keep his hand from trembling. His body is wracked with pain, his ribs bruised at the very least and his arm most definitely broken. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alex pulling Grace from her hiding spot, frantically checking her for bites and scratches. Finally, she clutches the girl to her chest, looking relieved.

"Run, Alex!" He shouts, turning to face the infected with the bullet in its leg, crawling its way toward him. "Go back to base."

"Not without you!"

He growls, opening his mouth to snap that getting Grace to safety is far more important than staying with him but a pair of cold, spindly arms wrap around his middle from behind, the skin so translucent he can see the muscles and tendons, purple veins frozen with blood still inside, the brittle bones beneath skin. Matt has a brief flashback to the infected he'd shot in the shoulder a few moments ago, the one that looked hungrier than the rest. He'd forgotten to kill it. Oh fuck.

His eyes flutter closed and he draws in a quiet breath as the world slows to a crawl around him. He inhales the scent always lingering in the air since the outbreak – ashes and death and just a hint of the purity of nature. In the far off distance, like a vague dream down a long, dark tunnel, he can hear Alex screaming. He pushes the sound away, choosing instead to remember the peal of her laughter. It was so rare, but always worth waiting for. She was worth waiting for and he's glad he got to spend the last few months of his life finally understanding what it was like to love Alex Kingston. They were both scarred and broken but what they had together was better than any love he ever had when he was whole and undamaged. Alex was worth every moment of pain, every nightmare, every scar.

He only wishes he didn't have to die before he could tell her so.

Teeth sink into the soft, exposed skin of his neck and the world comes into sharp focus again. The pain before was nothing compared to this. It burns. It burns like salt in an open wound, like a long pull of whiskey from the bottle, like hellfire itself. He screams.

The sound of gunfire erupts and the infected holding him in its grasp with its teeth lodged in his neck suddenly jerks back with a shriek, dropping to the ground. It doesn't move again but another shot rings out anyway. Without the damn thing to hold him up, Matt follows suit, sinking to his knees. Hot blood spills over, dripping down his skin and staining his shirt.

Footsteps run toward him but he can only stare blankly ahead, frozen with pain. The footsteps pause next to the other infected still trying to crawl its way toward him. A gun pressed to its head ends its miserable life quickly, and a booted foot kicks the creature viciously out of the way.

Another moment and Alex is on her knees in front of him, Grace dirty and tearful, clinging to her side "Darling? Matt, look at me." She takes his face in her hands, terror written all over her pale face. "Oh god."

He blinks at her, the fuzzy vision of Alex in front of him. God, he loves her. She'll do the right thing. He knows she will. He jerks forward with a cry of agony, grasping the front of her shirt. "Please," he chokes out. "Make it stop."

Tears welling in her eyes, she strokes the hair from his forehead. "It's alright, darling. You're going to be fine. We just have to get you back to base -"

"No." He grips her shirt tighter, pressing his forehead hard against hers, as if he can push the thought into her head and make her see reason. "Me. Stop me. Please."

Her eyes widen and she jerks away from him, horrified. "What? No. No, I won't."

He can feel the infection sizzling through him, spreading throughout his body and turning his veins to stone. Between the pain in his arm and the veritable fire raging through him courtesy of bastard infected #968, Matt feels like he's going to pass out any second. He doesn't want to wake up as something else. He has to make her understand. He has to make her see. "Alex," he breathes, tears of pure pain stinging his eyes. "Don't do this to me. Don't let me become that. Salome, think of – think of Sal."

"I am not shooting you." She shouts in his face, tears streaming down her cheeks. She cradles his head in her hands. "I can't. I – I love you."

He lifts a shaking hand to her hair, using his good arm, and strokes her curls weakly. "Then – need you to not be s-selfish." The words are coming slower now, it takes more effort to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Everything hurts. Oh god, everything. "Please. Please kill me."

Outright sobbing, Alex shakes her head fiercely. "No."

There isn't much time. His vision is growing fuzzy from the pain, black spots dancing all around him. He has to do something now. He drops his hand from her hair and reaches for his gun. His hand is trembling violently but he'll try. He has to try.

"Matthew, no!" Alex lunges for the gun, quicker than him, and tosses it aside.

He screams, half in agony and half in furious anger at having his choice taken from him. "Please-"

Alex rises to her feet quickly and wraps her arm around his waist, helping him to stand on shaky legs. "It's going to be alright, darling. I know it hurts." She presses her tear-stained face into his shoulder, voice trembling but determined. "Just walk with me, all right? It isn't far." Without turning around, she holds out her other arm and says, "Gracie, take my hand. Don't let go."

It's three miles back to the bunker, which is nothing but a short stroll compared to the distances Matt is used to walking but every step he takes now is a struggle. Alex supports him as well as she can, holding him up with her whole body and catching him when he stumbles. She ignores his pleas for death and soothes his tears and whimpers of pain with softly murmured nonsense, forging ahead with the determination of a woman who has lost too much and refuses to lose

anything or anyone else.

The moment they're close enough to the bunker to be heard by looming security, Alex begins to shout for help, calling out in a voice that cracks from emotion. Grace joins her, letting go of Alex's hand to run ahead. Alex staggers to a stop just outside the entrance, dropping to her knees with Matt and breathing hard. She runs her hands over his face, her expression crumpling at the sweat she finds collecting on his fevered brow. "You are not going anywhere, do you understand me, Matthew? You promised."

He whimpers, curling his hands loosely into her hair.

Three members of security, Chloe included, surround them within moments.

Alex looks up at them gratefully, trying to pull Matt back to his feet again. "He's been hurt," she says. "He needs medical attention. Help me get him inside."

"Hang on," one the guards says, pulling a small black device from his holster. "He's bleeding. He needs to be scanned first."

"There's no time," she snaps. "He needs help."

The guard ignores her, holding the scanner right in front of her eyes. Visibly biting her tongue, Alex stares straight ahead and allows herself to be scanned until the device flashes green. "You're clear," he says, and moves on to Matt.

Unsurprisingly, the scanner flashes red within seconds. Every single guard stumbles back away from Matt like he carries the plague itself. He supposes he does. "Ma'am, we need you to back away from him. He's been infected."

"I fucking know that already," she shouts at them. "He needs help!"

Chloe flinches but ventures forward with soft, understanding eyes. "We can't bring him inside, Alex. We'd risk infecting everyone."

"What are you going to do, leave him here to die?" Alex blinks away angry tears and glares at

them all.

"I'm sorry, Alex," Chloe says softly. "I truly am."

"Not yet." She stands quickly, bracing Matt against her legs so he doesn't fall, and draws her gun on them. "But you will be if you don't let me through."

Instead of reaching for her own gun, Chloe holds up her hands calmly. "You're not going to shoot us, Alex."

"No, she's not."

Matt weakly lifts his head at the sound of Harry's voice, trying to see him through the blur of colors his vision has become.

"Because you're going to let her through." Matt listens to the sound of Harry's footsteps in the grass, striding over to him and Alex. Strong arms lift him to his feet like he's some sort of rag doll and he hangs limp in his friend's grasp. "Move out of the way."

There's the soft click of a gun being clicked off safety and then Chloe's quiet gasp. "Harry -"

"We have a fucking trial vaccine," he snaps. "And we are going to give it to him even if we have to shoot every last one of you first."

Fading away, Matt lets his head drop to Alex's shoulder and feels her lips press against the top of his head. "Hold on, darling. Stay with me."

"Let them through," someone says. "We'll put him in quarantine."

It's the last thing Matt hears before he passes out.

epilogue: the stumbles and falls brought me here

Chapter Summary

Slowly and painstakingly, he struggles to open his burning eyes. Hunger gnaws at his insides and his first reaction is to panic and flinch away from the warm hand holding his.

Chapter Notes

Chapter title from The Luckiest by Ben Folds. Thank you all so much for your encouraging comments - your feedback is so important to me! I hope this last chapter satisfies:)

Slowly and painstakingly, he struggles to open his burning eyes. Hunger gnaws at his insides and his first reaction is to panic and flinch away from the warm hand holding his, until he realizes he would still take pancakes over human flesh any day of the week. Not dead then.

A tired, worn face looms over him, green eyes bright with tears and red curls tickling his face. "Darling?" Soft hands comb through his hair. "How do you feel?"

He thinks for a minute, groggy and confused. He tries to speak but the words are a harsh rasp in his throat. Alex quickly reaches for the water at his bedside, holding the cup to his lips. He drinks greedily, water droplets slipping from the corner of his mouth and down his neck. "Hungry," he tries again, clearer this time. "But not for people."

She laughs softly. "That's probably a good sign."

He leans back against his pillow, slowly taking stock of his body. His right arm is in a sling and his ribs hurt like a bastard if he squirms too much but other than that, he seems to be all right. He lifts his left hand to touch Alex only to find that he has been cuffed to his bed.

She grimaces, lacing their fingers together. "They wouldn't let you stay unless they could restrain you. We…" She trails off, eyes suddenly bright with tears. "It's been three days. We weren't sure if you were going to wake up as you."

His stomach somersaults and he squeezes her fingers, hating himself for putting her through the hell the last few days must have been. She's been through enough, hasn't she? "I'm sorry," he says softly.

"I almost lost you. And you – you asked me to kill you, Matt." She shakes her head, pursing her lips tightly. "No more stupid, heroic stunts, OK?"

"I wasn't -"

"You promised you wouldn't leave me alone. I can't lose someone else I love!"

Instantly, he remembers being on his knees, the hot sticky feeling of blood oozing from the wound in his neck. Alex in front of him, holding his face in her hands and looking at him like she'd lost him already as he begged her to end it. Her adamant refusal. He smiles suddenly, managing a weak leer. "You love me."

She flushes, glancing away. "Shut up."

He laughs faintly, thumb brushing softly over the inside of her wrist. "You don't have to be embarrassed, Kingston. Many a woman has been in your position. I'm irresistible."

Her glare is eclipsed by the relief palpable in her eyes at having him awake and alive, teasing her into a smile once more. "You're lucky you're pretty."

"I love you too, Kingston."

"I know." She leans down without another word, pressing her mouth to his and kissing him desperately until his heart monitor beeps, her lips warm and unyielding, greedy in her need to reassure herself that he really isn't going anywhere. Still cuffed to the bed, he can't reach up and hold her but he does arch into her kiss, pressing back just as eagerly and offering her a husky moan of encouragement. She pulls away licking her lips, her eyes dark. "You need to rest."

He shakes his head stubbornly. "Kiss me again."

She does, but quickly, easing off his bed.

"Where are you going?" He pouts, reaching for her. "I almost died. I need kisses."

"The girls and Harry will want to see you." She leans back in, nuzzling his nose. "And I have to fetch a doctor. Someone needs to know we have a cure."

And that's when it hits him. It's over.

"Thank god. I think me zombie fighting days are over." He lifts his eyes to hers, grinning hugely. "That last one was a real pain in the neck."

Alex's mouth drops open.

"Literally." He guffaws. "Get it? Pain in the -"

She whacks at his chest gently but firmly, struggling not to laugh. "That is terrible, Matthew. Honestly."

As Matt recovers, so does the rest of the world. More of the vaccine is produced and shipped out and suddenly people are packing their things and venturing out of the bunker, arming themselves with injections rather than guns. Alex refuses to let him go anywhere just yet, hovering over him constantly and only leaving his side to tend to the girls. When she isn't hovering, Harry takes her place and manages to be just as smothering but without the added benefit of snogging.

At last, he manages to convince her to at least let him leave the infirmary and move back into their bedroom. It's only as she guides him through the corridors – like he's bloody handicapped – that he realizes just how many people have left the safety of the bunker. It feels like they're the only ones left, save for the staff, the kids and the elderly.

"Is it really that safe out there?"

Alex shrugs, opening the door to their bedroom and ushering him inside. "They're hunting the infected now instead of the other way around. Shoot them with a dose of the cure and within a few hours, they're human again."

"I thought it was just a cure for bites and scratches, not for those who have already… changed." Stunned, he eases down onto the edge of their bed, shooing away Alex's tetchy cat. "They can come back?"

She nods, not quite meeting his eyes as she settles onto the bed next to him. "Apparently. People are starting to look for family members."

"And they remember? Being -" He gestures with a hand, speechless.

Alex nods again, bowing her head. "They're already organizing therapy for the recovered infected. Some remember more than others but… they're all traumatized."

He swallows. "But they're alive."

"Yeah."

For a moment, he can say nothing. Perched on the edge of their bed, he watches her avoid his gaze with a lump in his throat. She stares at her knees and rapidly blinks away tears. His heart squeezes in his chest. "Alex -"

"I could have had her back, Matt."

Her voice cracks and he turns swiftly, gathering her against him with his good arm and pulling her onto his lap. Alex clings to his neck and breaks, shoulders heaving under his hand and her tears scalding against his throat. Matt shushes her, rocking her gently, and closes his eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

They curl around each other tightly, holding onto what they have left and thinking about what might have been if only things had been different.

When rebuilding begins, they leave the bunker behind and move into the city, taking the girls with them. At the moment, London is the hub of all construction and they're both eager to help remake their city but leaving the girls behind to do it isn't an option. Officially adopting them will take time and paperwork that no one has bothered to draw up just yet, but no one tries to stop them from leaving.

They manage to find a townhouse on Park Street not falling into disrepair and decay, and just move in. There still aren't any rules in this new world and at the moment, home ownership is basically finders keepers. They don't have many possessions to their name – one suitcase of clothes between Matt and Alex and one small bag for each of the girls and their books. And of course, Alex's damn cat.

Olive and Holly are nearly vibrating with excitement as their car navigates through the streets, peering out the windows and talking over each other to point things out. It's been years since they've seen the sun or the city but Grace curls into a ball in the backseat and says nothing. Since Matt was bitten, she's barely spoken two words to anyone.

Olive taps him repeatedly on the shoulder as he drives. "Are there going to be lots of rooms, Matty?"

"A few," he says with a smile. "Why?"

"Do we get our own room?"

"Don't you like sharing?" He exchanges a grin with Alex, who rolls her eyes. "I know! Why don't we all share a room together? All of my girls in one room where I can look at you all the time!"

Holly wrinkles her nose and looks at Alex, despairing.

Alex pats her cheek. "Don't worry, dear. He's only teasing."

Matt eyes Grace through the rearview mirror. She was making such progress before and now they're back where they started. "What do you think, Gracie?" He asks, startling her into looking at him. "Would you like to have your own room?"

She shrugs.

Alex places her hand over his on the gearshift, squeezing.

They settle into their new home and their new life with relative ease. He and Alex take turns helping with the reconstruction, one of them always staying home to look after the girls. When it's his turn to stay home, he kisses Alex goodbye and sends her on the way, spending his day making sure the girls are happy and entertained. He greets Alex in the evening with a kiss and dinner on the table, massaging her sore muscles in bed. He wakes every morning to her kissing the scar on his neck, just where he'd been bitten – a reminder every time he wakes up of how lucky he is.

When it's Alex's turn to stay home, he leaves in the early morning light and works until sundown, putting his blood, sweat, and tears into rebuilding the city and making it a safe place for his family. He comes home to Alex's arms and the sweet laughter of little girls – a slice of normality that helps him forget the state of the world outside their walls. Things are getting better but more people are dead than alive and a lot of people who are alive wish they weren't. No one will ever be the same again, no matter how quickly they rebuild.

One night, after a long day spent sweating under the sun, Matt gets home late – just in time to tuck the girls into bed. They each ended up getting their own room just like they wanted and he makes the rounds with an aching back, kissing first Olive and then Holly goodnight. He saves Grace for last, kneeling beside her bed and leaning in to kiss her forehead. She still doesn't say much, but he keeps trying anyway.

"Goodnight, Gracie."

As he moves to stand up, her little hand shoots out, grasping his wrist.

He freezes, blinking at her.

She purses her lips, brown eyes filling up. "Matty?"

It's the first time he's heard her voice in weeks. "Yeah, poppet?"

"I'm sorry I got you bitten."

As her little face crumples and she begins to outright sob, Matt reacts on instinct. He gathers her into his arms and sinks to the floor with her on his lap, clutching her tightly to his chest. "You didn't get me bitten, sweetheart," he breathes, smoothing back her frizzy curls. "I'm alright, see?"

She sniffles, clinging to his shirt.

He buries his face against her neck, blinking away tears. "We're all going to be alright, Gracie. I promise."

"We have plenty of room."

In the middle of brushing his teeth, Matt looks from the bathroom mirror and through the doorway to Alex sitting at the foot of their bed. Dressed in nothing but one of his t-shirts, her curls damp from her shower, she bites her lip and picks at a loose thread in their quilt. Leaning back over the sink, he spits, rinses his mouth out, and puts his toothbrush away.

Slowly, he ventures from the bathroom and into their bedroom. "Plenty of room for what?" He climbs onto their bed and pushes her backwards, kissing her. "Room for the copious amount of shagging we're going to be doing tonight?"

She shifts away from the tickle of his stubble. "Room for more children."

He stares at her. "You're not -"

"Of course not. You know I can't." She looks away. "I'm talking about adoption."

"Alex, love… You know we already have three, right?" When she still won't look at him, he sighs and rolls over, pulling her with him. She curls up against his chest, an arm wrapped around his waist. He kisses her temple. "Talk to me, Kingston."

She sighs. "I saw them today while I was out."

"Who?"

"The kids – a whole busload of them being herded into Harrods."

As a proper civilization has slowly begun to emerge from the ashes, it has become increasingly apparent that there are a lot of children without parents to look after them. The burnt out shell of Harrods has been converted into an orphanage to house them all but the ideal situation would be for those in a position to adopt to take them in as their own. Matt and Alex were finally able to file all the necessary paperwork to make the girls legally and officially theirs but clearly the burden of all those orphans remains with Alex.

She bites her lip. "God, they were so young, darling. I can't imagine how lost and scared they must be. They need a home – a real home. Not a bloody department store with cots."

He nods slowly, tracing his finger over the bump on the bridge of her nose. "You know we can't adopt them all, yeah?"

"I know." She raises her head, smiling hopefully. "Just a few more."

He sees the moment he looks into her eyes that this is something she needs to do. "Alright," he agrees, smiling when she breathes out a sigh of relief. "We'll go tomorrow. Have a look around."

"Actually…" Alex trails off, grinning.

He sighs. "You're already attached to some of them, aren't you?"

"Mick and Daniel," she gushes, and he watches her eyes light up. "I know you'll love them, darling. They're so small and -"

"Bloody impossible you are, bringing home strays." He nuzzles his face into her neck, tickling her with his scruff and listening to her laugh.

"You love it."

"I love you." He lifts his head, huffing. "When are we bringing them home then?"

"Tomorrow."

"Don't we need to fill out some paperwork first?"

She bites her lip. "I sort of already did."

Matt growls, rolling Alex beneath him and tickling her until they're both breathless.

He wakes up before the sun, a well-worn habit now. He still isn't used to waking up to the sight of it streaming in through their windows. He opens his eyes to red curls spilling across his pillow and grins widely, reaching out to wrap an arm around her small waist and tug her close. Alex shifts against him with a little sigh, lifting a hand to pat his cheek in her sleep.

He catches her wrist, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and the palm of her hand, moving on to her fingertips until she finally cracks open one eye and peers at him. "Hello," she purrs in that sleepy morning voice he can never quite manage to resist.

"Hello."

"S'early."

He nods, leaning in to kiss her softly. "Time to get up though." He strokes a hand up and down her bare back. "Get dressed. You know how Daniel likes to tiptoe in before breakfast."

She smiles, swatting his hand away from her bum. "Sneaky little bugger, isn't he?"

"Don't know who he could have gotten it from." He laughs, giving her bum one last squeeze before letting her slip out of bed and reach for her clothes. "Got any plans for the day?"

Pulling on her knickers and allowing him to enjoy the view, Alex shrugs. "I promised the munchkins we'd visit your work site for lunch. They want to see what we do all day when we leave them."

He laughs, climbing out of bed and reaching for his jeans. "Maybe I'll put them to work. Child labor for the good of humanity."

Fully dressed now, Alex sidles up to him before he can pull his t-shirt over his head, wrapping her arms around him and looking up at him with soft, adoring eyes. "I love you."

"For child labor?" He grins when she pinches his side, swooping down to press a quick kiss to her mouth. "I love you too."

Alex pulls him in for another kiss when they part, this one slower, a long and lingering press of mouths that makes him grip her hips and groan. "Don't do this to me, Kingston. They'll be up any second."

No sooner do the words leave his mouth than the door to their bedroom bursts open. Except it isn't only an army of six unruly children barreling into the room – they're all clinging to a tall, lumbering blond with a scruffy beard, shouting for Uncle Harry to please pick them up.

"Sorry." Harry grins, leering at them. "Are we interrupting something unfit for wee eyes?"

Matt groans, burying his face in Alex's neck but removing his hand from her bum. "What are you doing here, idiot?"

He points to Alex, bending to scoop Holly into his arms. "Your girl promised me pancakes."

Alex sighs and slips from his grasp, bending to scoop up Mick. "Good morning," she coos, cuddling the toddler to her and patiently enduring his fists tugging at her hair. "I'm afraid I did promise him breakfast."

"Alex," Matt whinges. "If you keep feeding the stray, he'll never leave."

Harry ignores him with dramatic flair, flopping onto the bed next to Olive and Grace, and still in his arms, Holly giggles. "Not just breakfast," he corrects. "Pancakes. Really fucking good pancakes."

"Harry! Language!"

"Sorry, really kickarse pancakes."

Alex kicks him.

Rolling his eyes, Matt picks up the other boy still tugging at his trouser leg. Redheaded with a pale, lightly freckled nose, Daniel is the quieter of their rowdy gang but just as naughty when left unattended. As such, Matt likes to keep a constant eye on him at all times. "Hello there. Get into any mischief yet this morning?"

Daniel ducks his head, smiling.

"Don't think I'm going to fall for that," he laughs. "I know that smile. That smile means you've been spending way too much time with Uncle Harry."

"Oi!" Harry lifts his head with a glare. "Don't be a prick – I'm babysitting your little brood of heathens tonight so you can get laid."

Alex tosses a pillow at his head for another language infraction, rolling her eyes when it prompts a pillow fight amongst Harry and the girls. Shrieks, laughter, and much cursing on Harry's part follows but Matt barely pays it any mind as he turns to Alex. Theirs is a full house, with a lot of noise and near constant chaos but after the quiet, dreary life of the bunker, he wouldn't have it any other way. This life is colorful and loud, full of love and never, ever dull.

"A night to ourselves, hmm?" He grins, letting Daniel scramble from his arms to join the fight on the bed. "You've been plotting, Kingston."

Still cuddling Mick to her chest, she offers him a secretive, lilting grin. "Always, darling."

Last night, he didn't wake screaming from a nightmare and right now, Alex isn't thinking about what she's lost. Tomorrow, he might be haunted by bad dreams and she might be off in her own head but it's enough for now that this moment is a good one. It's enough that their pile of good things is growing and their pile of bad things isn't.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Matt turns to the rambunctious, patchwork little family on the bed, currently in the middle of working together to smother Harry with pillows. Alex leans into his side, smiling widely.

Outside their window, a new day dawns.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!