After searching a good two dozen classrooms and still not finding anyone, Nick was seriously doubting that they were going to ever find Anna's dad (alive or zombified). Anna hadn't spoken much to him at all since John had died- and he knew that she probably blamed him for the circumstances that resulted in John getting eaten alive.

Pushing aside a tarp that obscured the far corner of the darkened classroom they were in, Anna sighed.

"Shit."

Another empty classroom, and still no sign of her dad. Shoulders heavy, she turned to leave the room.

"Hey," Nick offered as she walked past him.

"Don't worry, we'll find your dad."

She shot him a glance, not as convinced as he hoped she would be. He flashed her a toothy smile.

"Dream team."

"We're a lot of things, Nick, but we've never been a team." Anna deadpanned as she kept walking towards the door.

Nick's bat felt heavy as he shifted it to his other hand. Anna had always been dismissive of him, moreso since they'd hooked up that summer. But this was the coldest she'd ever been, and he didn't like it.

"Hey," He tried again, his usual ego-driven swagger diminished slightly.

"It wasn't me. That night you stayed at mine? I didn't say nothing to no one."

Anna turned around, brows furrowed as she stared at him incredulously.

"Nick, I don't care about the sex!" She scoffed.

"You want to know why I'm angry at you? I'm angry at you because we shared all that stuff about our future- you acted like it meant something, but then you just dumped me. I trusted you."

Completely caught off-guard by Anna's explanation, for once in his life Nick couldn't come up with any sort of witty retort or anything. He swallowed hard, eyes darting around the room before landing on his bloodstained trainers.

"Oh."

He stood there, staring at his feet; trying to formulate some sort of apology. The sex had been good- at least, he'd thought it was- did he need to apologize for that? He didn't know if Anna was more angry at him for their hookup or because John was dead or because she didn't know where her dad was-

"-That's it?" Anna asked, eyebrows raised. Nick raised his head to meet her gaze, unsure of what she meant. He held her gaze, searching for some clue as to what she wanted him to say before she shook her head.

"You are such a prick."

Nick knew that Anna was hurting. He knew that she blamed him for a lot of shit (with good reason). But he couldn't take it anymore. He knew what Anna had lost, but his friends had died. His dad was dead, he had no idea what he was supposed to do, and he was sick and tired of everyone acting like just because he was hot and cool and good at sports that he had everything figured out. He was angry- at whoever started this fucking zombie apocalypse, angry at his dad, angry at himself- but because Anna was standing right in front of him, he took his anger out on her.

"Look, just 'cause your little fuck buddy died doesn't mean you get to go and take it out all on me."

He bit back, causing Anna to whip around to face him.

"Don't you DARE talk about John!" She yelled, holding her oversized candy cane to his throat as if it were an actual weapon; anger burning in her eyes.

"What have you ever done that wasn't just about yourself? Huh?"

"Killed my dad."

Anna took a step back, lowering her weapon and staring at him; eyes wide.

Nick scoffed, turning away from her- trying to offer an explanation.

"He…got bit." He started, feeling a lump growing in his throat.

"So he gave me the bat…and he said…"don't you let me down, son. For once." …So I…"

Voice breaking, he choked up on the bat- holding onto it so tightly his knuckles began to ache.

"Fuck."

He slammed his hands down on a nearby table, doubling over as his eyes began to burn. Shoulders shaking, he felt tears begin to track down his face. He hadn't wanted it to turn out this way, hadn't wanted to have to kill his dad, hadn't wanted to be the reason his friends and John were dead.

Anna gently placed a hand on his shoulder, standing beside him as he cried; feeling the empty feeling in her chest begin to grow. Nick had to kill his dad- what if she had to make the same choice?

"Right." Nick sniffed, rubbing his eyes with the one part of his hand that wasn't covered in blood.

"That's enough of this pansy bollocks." He lifted his bat, straightening up and heading for the door- just as a horde of zombies burst through it.

"Shit."

They both readied their weapons- at least half a dozen zombies were lumbering towards them, and they were backed into the classroom.

"Right. I'll hold them back." Nick unblinkingly began walking towards the zombie horde.

"No, we stick together."

As much as he'd cared for Anna- as much as he still cared for her, Nick couldn't handle her arguments any longer. Shoving her and knocking her to the floor, he practically jumped over her- sprinting towards the other side of the classroom.

"Hey! Hey! Zombies! OVER HERE!"

Anna slowly got to her feet as Nick kept taunting the zombies; banging on the tables, yelling at them; doing everything he could to get them away from Anna.

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Nick readied himself for the fight of his life. Nine against one- he'd seen worse odds, but he'd also certainly seen better. His dad was dead. John was dead. But if he could help it, he wouldn't die the way they did. In between hurling insults at the undead monsters coming to kill him, he noticed that Anna was still in the classroom; watching him. He yelled over to her.

"Don't just stand there like a dick. Go!"

"For fuck's sake, Nick-"

"Go get your dad!" He insisted, and Anna could've sworn she saw a glint of fear in his eyes as she sprinted out of the classroom.

Nick took a breath, choking up on his baseball bat as he took a swing at the closest zombie to him.