It was an unanimous agreement that they weren't going to try and go back into Schenectady. For one thing, they've been driving too long and would've had to turn around to go back into it. For another, it left a bad taste in Alex's mouth, for more reasons than one. So they drove silently along until they came across the next city. Amsterdam, which is considerably smaller than Schenectady. Good. Smaller meant safer.

Alex didn't get to sleep long, being woken up after only twenty-five minutes or so. But that was fine, he's survived on little sleep before. And he was one of the strong teammates now. He could pull his own weight when needed, and sleeping wasn't how he was going to do that.

They're on Interstate 90, driving parallel to the Mohawk, when they stop just outside of a Dunkin Donuts and a Valero Fuel. James doesn't yet turn off the engine until they're sure that no zombie cops are going to come bursting out of the donut shop. Finally, he cuts the engine and begins speaking. "I don't think there'll be anything useful in the donut shop. So just watch my back from here while I see if there's any gas in any of the tanks."

He leaves with Alex's ax before either of them could comment. Alex watches the man as he brisky stalks across the parking lot. This parking lot is different than the others they've been to. Instead of cars smashed into too little of a space, all trying to get gas to get far away from the chaos and destruction - there's nothing. Not a single car in sight. Everyone from here must've skipped town early or something. The silence and emptiness is just as haunting as the mechanical graveyard they usually see.

"Have you and James fucked?" Jefferson asked suddenly.

Alex's head whipped around so fast that his world spun a bit. He was still lightheaded from puking on an hour before. After he regained his focus, Alex frowned, "Uh. No." Jefferson only seemed more confused by that. But he didn't say anything. Alex felt the need to fill the silence. "He's ace."

"I know that." Jefferson snapped. His eyes darted back and forth as he stared at a crack in the windshield. "You two just seem weirdly close for him to have never mentioned you to me before all of this. I'm tryna figure out why that is."

Alex shrugged, trying to keep a nonchalant expression, "He doesn't have to tell you about everyone in his life."

"But he does. We do." Jefferson glances over at James, who was examining the gas pumps. His voice was somewhat morose as he mumbled, "We tell each other everything."

Alex blinked rapidly, he opened his mouth and then closed it again. How do you reply to something like this? He settled on awkwardly saying, "We're ... just coworkers. I'm going to steal him from you or anything."

Jefferson's sharp gaze shifted to glare at him. He was silent for a moment, observing him. His voice was hard when he said, "I'm not worried. He knows a downgrade when he sees one."

Anger spikes within Alex's chest. He thinks about spouting out lies just to make Jefferson mad. He's already imagining waxing poetic about how he seduced the stony and reserved James Madison Jr. How he convinced James to trust him more than he trusts his best friend. How they've snuck around behind their wives backs in the name of love. How Jefferson will never have that.

Alexander is a lot of things, but he's not a liar. And, even when pretending, he'd never cheat on his wife. So, instead, he just rolls his eyes and grumbles, "You can't downgrade from rock bottom."

Jefferson scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Like you're one to judge my character."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing. I'm just saying that you barely even know me, and I you, and honestly, from what I've seen so far, I'm not impressed." Jefferson said with his nose in the air, looking down at Alexander.

"I'm not here to impress you." Alex growled. "And you're not hot shit either, tall ass."

"Midget." Jefferson replied.

"You can't say that; that's offensive to little people."

"Why should I care? They're all dead or zombies."

"That doesn't invalidate their existence!"

"Yeah, it kinda does."

"I cannot believe you-"

Jefferson raised his voice over Alexanders', "Why would I bother avoiding stepping on toes of people that can't hear me and can't do anything about it? I've got more important things to worry about, Hamilton."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Alex challenged, "Washing your hair?"

Jefferson looked at him like he was insane, "No, dumbass! Like staying alive! You know, that thing normal people do when the world is ending!"

"Oh right, and going to Canada." Alex rolled his eyes, "That stupid plan."
"At least I have a plan!"

"Plans are pointless!" Alex said, throwing his hands in the air. His fingers hit the roof of the truck, but he barely noticed, "Sure, before all of this happened, plans are a perfectly valid way to go about your life. I was a fan of plans. But now!? Plans are a waste of time! What can you plan for? We can't find a cure, we can't kill all the zombies! There's no good way out of this, so you shouldn't even try!"

"Then why are you here!?" Jefferson shouted over him, "Why follow James n' I around if you don't even believe we can survive this?"

Alex faltered, surprised. He hesitated, all the fight washing out of him. He grew so tired suddenly, and he wasn't sure if it was another side effect from his withdrawal, or if Jefferson just did this to him; but a deep insecurity washed through his chest. He glanced down at his hands that pressed firmly against his thighs. The words fell past his lips without his full consent, and he regretted saying them immediately. "I don't want to be alone."

Jefferson blinked in surprise, the tension in his shoulders loosening as he realized the fight was more or less over. He didn't know what to say in response to that, so he just stared at Alex with wide eyes.

Alex swallowed and continued, saying, "I got used to having people around me. And … and I don't want to go back to being alone."

When he was a child in the caribbean, loneliness was his only friend. It followed him around, haunted him, kept him company even when he didn't want it to. He had no family, no friends, and so he grew accustomed to a silent home, and empty social life. But then he moved to America and when to college and collected friends like they were on sale. He doesn't have them anymore. If he didn't have James, he didn't know what he'd do.

"I don't like being alone." Alex repeated quietly, his fingers trembling slightly.

Jefferson's hand landed gently on his own, his warm fingers stilling Alex's. The immigrant looked up into Jefferson's eyes; wide and understanding. His lips were parted, just slightly, as he gathered his thoughts. Alex found himself unintentionally holding his breath, waiting for the other man's response. He didn't mean to say as much as he did. He didn't want Jefferson's pitty; didn't need it.

Jefferson started to speak, his voice soft, "I-"

But the door behind Alex opened suddenly and all thoughts vanished. Alex grabbed the gun that rested in Jefferson's lap as he twisted around; ready to kick a zombie in the face. Instead, a very pissed off Virginian stood there, a bloody axe in his hands.

"What the fuck, guys!?" James growled. "Why weren't you watching me?!"

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, relaxing a bit. His back was pressed against Jefferson's chest, and it felt a bit too good for him to focus on anything other than that. "What happened?"

Jefferson's voice was in his ear as he said, "Are you hurt?!"

James dropped the axe on the ground by Alex's feet as he climbed into the truck. "No. No thanks to you two. But look at those, right there, will you?"

He gestured to the gruesome bodies of slashed zombies that laid on the concrete, bloody and broken. Alex scowled and looked away.

"Those attacked me while I was filling up our tank, and neither of you bothered to shoot them because you were too busy being self-righteous dickholes!" James growled, absolutely furious.

Jefferson reached around Alex to brush his fingers across James' arm, "JemmyJames, I am so sorry-"
"Don't touch me." James grumbled, yanking his arm away. "You had one job. And there were two of you to do it. How the fuck am I supposed to - what if I got bit? Would y'all even stop arguing to notice?"

"James-" Jefferson tried again, his voice fragile.

"No. Shut up." James huffed, running his hands down his face. "Let's just get some supplies and shit so we can get back on the road."

Alex shifted awkwardly as James started the engine and slammed on the gas. The truck whipped forward, driving over the bodies of the zombies like they were squishy speed bumps with gross thunk thunk's. Alex spared a glance at Jefferson, who was now staring down at his lap, his hands running nervously up and down his thighs.

"Gonna have to fuckin' seperate you children." James grumbled to himself as he drove through the empty streets of Amsterdam.

They crossed over the Mohawk, thankful that the bridges were still intact. The truck was silent as they traveled quickly around abandoned cars and rotting bodies. Amsterdam is much like any other towns; many houses nestled together in neighborhoods. The further away you get from the river, the more spread out the buildings become. As they drive, they don't get too far into the town before Jefferson pipes up.

"Can we stop at the library?"

It such an odd request, for a moment, Alexander doesn't know how to respond. There's a split second where Alex imagines that the world hasn't ended. That this is just a weekend day trip, and they're doing errands like any normal group of people. He imagines picking out a colorful book with lots of pictures that he knows his little Angie would adore. He thinks of browsing through the poetry books, attempting to find one for Philip to memorize. He can just see himself finding a thick romance book that Eliza would pour over for days. It almost feels normal.

But that can't happen anymore. Because his family is dead.

Alex's attention snaps back to the present as James replies, "Why?"

Jefferson shifts in his seat, "With the world ending… we only have each other to learn from. Eventually, we'll run out of knowledge." Jefferson looks up to stare at Alex and James. "You can't deny me my knowledge, Jemmy. Please."

James stopped the car outside of the local library. He glanced between Jefferson and the building a few feet away. He sighed, but could nonetheless see the logic behind it. "Fine."

As they pulled up to the library and jumped out of the truck, Jefferson took the lead. He was talking even before Alex could get out of the car. A gun in his hands, watching for any signs of the undead. Alex scrambled after him with the axe, while James cursed and followed behind, empty handed and anxious.

"Get textbooks: medical, scientific, historical -" Jefferson as he kicked down the library door. He quickly shoots down a zombie librarian and then observes the rest of the open, dark space. It appears empty. Which makes sense; zombies don't know how to read.

"Do we really need history books?" James asked, stepping over a dead body.

"You're seriously asking the history professor that?" Alex replied.

"You can learn from history, James, otherwise you repeat it." Jefferson said without looking over at him. "Focus on botany, wilderness survival, and medicine. And, as much as it pains me, I don't want to see a single fiction novel. Clear?"

"Got it."

"Yeah."

While most books were still in the building; they were thrown around, missing from shelves. It took a long time for them to sift through all the different piles of books, lift up the fallen shelves, and skim through the pages.

Every once and a while, they'd call out a title, asking Jefferson if he thought it was relevant.

"Understanding Psychology?"

"No."

"The Total Deer Hunter's Manual?"

"Yes."

"Botany in a Day: The Patterns Method of Plant Identification and A Field Guide to Edible Wild Plants of Eastern and Central North America."

"Yes and yes."

"Gray's Anatomy?"

"The doctor or the tv show?"

"Uh… doctor?"

"Yes."

"What about World History?"

"Was it make in Texas?"

"Uh-"

"If yes, then no."

"Oh, okay…"

They continued on this way until Jefferson was satisfied that they had enough resources, should they ever feel the need to research. They carried their armfuls of books out to the truck, where they dropped them into the back.

"It'd be nice if we had a cover." James commented as they stared at the books in the back of the truck. Jefferson nodded as Alex crossed his arms. "First rain and these books are destroyed."

Alex made a humming noise of agreement. He looked over at the empty cars on the street. "We might be able to find one. Just gotta remove it from one truck and put it on this one."

"If we find one of those tall ones, then we'll have even more room to pile supplies." Jefferson added.

James nodded, "It can't be that hard to find one. There's plenty of trucks in a city."

With this in mind, they climbed into the truck and started driving down the road again. The tension from earlier dissipated now that they were focused getting more supplies. They agreed to not enter any of the houses, since there was no guarantee that they'd find anything useful in them. Most people would grab all the important shit from their homes when evacuating. And, a house doesn't have a camping aisle.

Strangely enough, they have to drive far into the city, past endless rows of houses, before they approach any kind of useful store. But once they found one, the others were bundled up nearby. A Target and Kohl's sat on one side of the street; while a Walmart, Home Depot, and Lowes stare back.

"Decisions, decisions." Alex muttered to himself, looking back and forth between the shopping centers.

"I say we go to all of 'em." Jefferson said, tapping his fingers on the dashboard.

James shook his head, "Too risky."

"I'm a gamblin' man." Jefferson replied.

"Yeah. I know." James shot him a sharp glare, which made Jefferson flinch.

Alex piped up, "I agree with Jefferson. We could miss something important if we only go to one place. We go to Walmart and Target for food and water; Kohl's for clothes; and Home Depot and Lowes for tools and weapons and stuff."

James scowled, "Do we really need clothes?"

"I need pants and socks." Jefferson said, clearly trying to be casual and failing, "New shoes would be nice."
"And it's going to get cold soon, too. We'll need coats and jackets and blankets and stuff." Alex said, "It's almost fall."

James chews on his lip, but nods. "Fine. But we stay together - in hitting distance."

"Hitting distance?" Alex asked, turning to Jefferson.

Jefferson explains, "If he can't smack you for doing something stupid, you're too far away." Then he asked James, "Who's on first?"

"What's on second." James replied as he drove the truck further down the road, "We'll start at Lowes and work our way back. Lowes, then Depot, then Walmart, Kohl's, and Target's last."

And they did just that.

Strangely enough, it was hard to decide what was and wasn't necessary while they wandered through the dark, empty Lowes. They only had limited space in their truck, and they can't waste it with things that won't help them in the end.

"Anything that requires electricity is useless." James commented as they walked past microwaves. "But do get batteries, just in case."

"We need some fucking flashlights, is what we need." Jefferson said as he squinted in the darkness. "We can't keep stumbling around these buildings without light."

Alex suggested, "We could always just burn something."

"What, like a torch?" Jefferson asked.

"It's an idea." Alex shrugged.

James shook his head, "Yeah, until one of you burns your hands off. No, we'll find those hand-crank flashlights."

Alex stuck out his tongue at the back of James' head, and Jefferson had to bit his cheek to hold back a snort. They decided to start with flashlights, sure that they'd make the rest of their shopping trip easier.

The flashlights were all in one asile, gathered together in rows. Many of them were far too intense for their purposes, large lights that were meant for working on construction at night. A lot of them looked like the kind of baton flashlights that cops carry. All of them took batteries except for one kind.
"It says you have to crank it for a minute for half an hour of light." James said, holding the box up to his face as he attempted to read it.

Jefferson shrugged, "That's not too bad."

James ripped open the box and fiddled with the flashlight blindly until he found the crank. The little whrrr of the flashlight as it built up power with each of James' turns was like music to Alex's ears. Not long after, the little bulb inside the flashlight came to life with luminous electricity. The boys all gasped and grinned at each other, feeling much like cavemen who have discovered fire for the first time. James shone the flashlight around the area, taking in the sights of the wreckage and mess. There were still a lot of supplies on the shelves, but it looked like a bunch of bulls ran through the place.

"Oh, this is much better." James said happily, a smile on his face. "We should take all of these, there looks to be six or seven of 'em."

"Do we want regular flashlights too? Ones that take batteries?" Jefferson asked as he picked up one of the normal flashlights, reading it's label. Before James could reply, Alex spoke up.

"Hey, let's get a few of these." Alex said as he held up some lantern flashlights. He read from the back of the box, "Works for 50 hours at a time? Impact and weather resistant… They tak batteries, not included."

"Alright, but then we'd have to get batteries as well." Jefferson said as he casually shot something that moved a few feet away from them. In the darkness, it could've been anything. But it's best to keep anything far away from them. Jefferson nodded to the cart that was toppled over in the aisle, "Steal that, you're now on cart duty."

Alex grumbled to himself, but agreed. He righted the shopping cart and dropped five lanterns into them. James and Jefferson added more crank flashlights and two battery-powered ones. From there, the next logical place to go was the battery asile, where they grabbed everything their grubby little hands could reach.

As they worked their way through Lowes and Home Depot, they found a few more supplies. They gathered; two tool boxes, a saw, four fire starting kits, various kinds of knives, and a few flasks and thermoses. Both stores were wiped clean of most camping supplies, including tents, sleeping bags, and grilling sets. One step forward, two steps back.
"It's alright, we'll just sleep in the truck." James said, although he didn't sound so fond of the idea. Three grown men in one small, cramped space didn't sound ideal to Alex, either. But they didn't have a lot of options otherwise.

They moved on.

Walmart was, unsurprisingly, destroyed. There was next to nothing on any of the shelves, the only food left was already close to rotting, and there wasn't a single water bottle in sight. Alex sighed as he stepped in a puddle of sticky, white liquid. "Anyone want melted ice cream?"

Jefferson cussed as he found one can of beans on the floor. "This sucks."

"Yeah, no shit." Alex grumbled in reply. Just as the words left his lips, he was hit with a dizzy spell. His body swayed and he stumbled in an attempt to right himself. Jefferson was by him in a second, holding him up with an arm wrapped around his waist. Alex let out a little groan as his vision blurred.

Footsteps followed by James' voice cut through the fog in his mind, "Alex! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Fiiine." Alex slurred, leaning heavily on Jefferson. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. "Just- withdrawal."

"Right." James replied a second later.

Alex could feel the vibrations of Jefferson's voice through his chest as he spoke, "Being dehydrated and hungry probably isn't helping any either. We need to find something to eat."

"I know, I know." James sighed.

Alex opened his eyes to see James rubbing his forehead, face pinched in concentration. Alex took a deep breath and stood up straight on his own feet, leaving the warmth of Jefferson's embrace. He was fine. He could do this. This wasn't a big deal.

Jefferson's concerned expression was on him once more as he asked, "Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?"

"I'm fine." Alex snapped. He pushed past the other two, anxiously tossing his axe between his hands. "Lets just find some food. There's gotta be something left here."

What they ended up with was a box of Cheerios. They passed it between themselves as they ate handfuls at a time. The stale, dry cereal left much room for improvement, but it was food, and they were in no position to complain.

They were able to find a few more cans of beans, peas, and soup. As a group, they agreed they wouldn't open them until they decided they absolutely had to. With that, they carried on to the next place.

Alex didn't go to Kohl's often. Sometimes, he would go with his lovely Eliza, but other than that, the place was foreign to him.

"We should get backpacks." James commented as they made sure the area was secure. "In case someone steals our shit again, we'll have at least some supplies with us."

"Good point." Jefferson hummed in agreement. "So, clothes, coats, blankets, backpacks, anything else?"

"Pots and pans." Alex said, "To cook with."

James nodded, "Yeah, and silverware, too."

"If we can't find those here, then we still have Target left." Jefferson added as they started to walk through the clothing store. Jefferson, the only one with a gun, shot a few times, but didn't otherwise make it seem like they were in trouble. Alex watched as a zombie flopped over, dead, after Jefferson shot with perfect aim. It was kind of terrifying how quickly he got used to seeing something like that. This was his life now, wasn't it?

James had a cart, and was shining his flashlight around. "Let's get blankets first. There's a bedding section, yeah?"

"This way." Alex nodded, and led the way deep into the store. Jefferson let out a soft groan at the sight of the display beds, some perfectly untouched.

"What I wouldn't give to sleep in one of these." He grumbled, running his hand up and down the mattress. "I miss my bed."

They worked quickly, finding the thickest blankets and stripping them from the beds. James threw pillows in their cart as Alex found the fleece blanket sets and Jefferson rolled the blankets up into a big ball on the floor.

After shoving everything into the cart, they realized they were going to need a second, or possibly third, cart to carry everything. They may have grabbed Way Too Many blankets and pillows, but they'd rather be safe than sorry and comfy than sore.

James was still pushing the bedding cart while Alex found a new, empty one and they went to the mens clothing. Jefferson immediately found the pants and started picking a few pairs out. Alex sought out the shirts, while James went to the coats and jackets. They all returned a few minutes later, throwing everything into the new cart.

"Can we look at the shoes?" Alex asked as Jefferson said, "I need new shoes, Jemmy."

James almost smiled as he said, "Alright, to the shoes."

Throughout everything, Alex had been wearing the same fancy business shoes that he was wearing at work that fateful day. His feet have been killing him, since the shoes weren't meant for more than just style.

Jefferson noticed and gave him an impressed look, "I totally forgot you were wearing those."

"You never had any spare shoes." Alex shrugged. "I didn't see the point in complaining."

"That's a first." James muttered.

"Hey!"

They each found tennis shoes that fit them, and an extra pair. Alex happily chucked his fancy dress shoes as far across the store as he could, satisfied with the thump sounds they made as they hit the floor. His feet instantly felt better in the new shoes and he wasn't worried about having to run much anymore. Well, he still had his binder, which would make breathing hard, but that was just the cards he had in his hand. He'd have to learn how to deal them.

Or…

Alex turned to James and whispered, "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" James replied, just as quiet. He glanced at Jefferson, who had his back to them and was fiddling with the shoes some more. "Hitting distance, there could still be some zombies in here and-"

"I'm going to the women's section." Alex interrupted, his eyes staring into James', silently begging him to not question him.

James looked like he was about to say something, but then realization crossed his face and he silently nodded. "Be careful."

Alex slipped away without another word. He disappeared between the aisles, his axe in hand. He made sure to be on his toes, in case a zombie (or an obnoxious southerner) was lurking. Even in the darkness, it didn't take him long to find the bra section.

He almost sighed in relief when he saw that they were practically untouched. He quickly finds the ones in his size. For a second, he holds one up to his chest, only to remember that he currently has none and the action was pointless. He glances over his shoulder and debates taking off his binder to try a size on - bras can be finicky with their sizes depending on their brands - but decides against it. It'd take too much time and there's too big of a risk that he'd be interrupted. He does, however, sprint over to the bedding section again, grab a king's size sheet and rush back to the bra section. He spreads the sheet out on the floor and throw several bras down on it. He then turns around and finds the sports bras, which are far more important than normal ones. Alex finds the ones in his size and then grabs an armful of them, throwing them onto his bedsheet as well. He takes a second to look at his stash. There's probably twelve bras total. It's probably the best he's going to get. Getting them doesn't seem to be the hard part. The hard part is going to be sneaking them past Jefferson.

Alex rolls up the bed sheet, wrapping up the bras into a big, squishy ball of boob-holding. He holds the ball under one arm, his axe with the other as he stands up.

"Hamilton!" He hears a shout from behind him. Alex sucks in a breath and speed walks away from bra section, guilt and shame clear on his face. He stumbles as he turns a corner and runs right into Jefferson. They both stumble, and are only able to stay up by catching each other. Jefferson's arm is wrapped around his waist, and Alex's hands are gripped Jefferson's shoulders. He dropped both his bundle and his axe in order to ensure that no one tripped, but that's not his main concern right now.

"Uh-" Alex said eloquently. How come Jefferson's body was always so warm? In the few times Alex found himself near the other man, he was always extraordinary hot. And his face wasn't bad either. Alex hated how attracted he was to the other man's body. Why did he have to have a gorgeous sex god on his apocalypse team? Too much eye candy will give him eye diabetes.

"What're you doing over here?" Jefferson asked, snapping Alex out of his thoughts.

"Just- I got another bedsheet." Alex found himself unable to look away from the other man.

Jefferson glances down at the bedsheet that thankfully stayed wrapped up, hiding the bras inside. "...We already got-"

James appears then, saving Alexander once again. He looked annoyed as he said, "Stop getting distracted, you two. Do we have everything?"

The two men released each other instantly, their arms crossing over their chests, their eyes not meeting. Alex didn't miss the way James raised his eyebrow at him as he spoke. Subtle, this man. Alex nodded, kneeling down to scoop up his bedsheet and axe.

"Good. Let's go." James said as they made their way back to their carts full of clothes. Alex and James were put on cart-pushing duty while Jefferson was guarding them, gun at the ready.

They dumped everything into the back of the truck and climbed in, moving to their last destination.

"Let's hope there's more food here than at Walmart." James said as he parked right outside the doors. Alex agreed; that one box of Cheerios didn't last them long at all. All they have left are those various canned foods that they don't want to open yet. Three grown men can't live off of a handful of canned foods.

They stalked through the Target quickly and silently. Jefferson shot a few zombies before they could get close to them. Alex was partially surprised that the noise didn't attract even more zombies nearby, but then he remembered that, being inside a building, the numbers were a bit limited. Alex wasn't going to try and jinx them by pointing out their fairly good luck.

As they passed by one of the small clothing sections of the store, Jefferson nudged Alex and nodded at the row of summer dresses. "You should grab somethin' that'll show off your calves."

Alex rolled his eyes and said, "I'm not into drag."

Jefferson chuckled to himself and carried on, but Alex stayed put, catching James' eye. They stared at each other as Alex furiously mouthed, 'What the fuck!?' and James shrugged. Alex took a step forward, watching the back of Jefferson's head. He said in the quietest voice he could muster while anxious and furious, "Does he know?!"

"No!" James replied, placing a hand on Alex's shoulder, "He's just joking. Relax!"

Alex did not relax.

For the rest of their Target adventure, Alex was tense. Even when they found an unopened container of pickles, more canned food, some bananas that were just the right shade of yellow, and a twelve pack of Gatorade.

"How come in movies, they always find grocery stores that are full of food? Where's my magic heaven Cosco?" Jefferson asked as he kicked a rotten orange. "How the fuck're we supposed to survive off a jar of pickles and some Gatorade?"

"We'll figure it out." James replied, sighing as he put his hands on his hips.

Jefferson slung his arm around James' shoulder as he spoke, "When we're in Canada, we'll grow our own food. Do what we do best an' farm. We won't have to scavenge like peasants."

"No. We'll just dig like peasants." James said dryly.

"Exactly!" Jefferson grinned. "That's the spirit!"

James rolled his eyes and stepped away, but there was a smile on his lips and laughter in his voice as he said, "Shut up and keep looking."

They continued on their way, moving throughout the various sections of the store. Alex paused to watch the fish still swimming in the fish tanks. Despite the filters no longer working, despite there not being a human to come by and feed them their fish food, despite zombies lurking outside their tanks, they still just kept swimming. These fish are better at survival than most humans. Alex smiled as he found some fish food and took the time to dump handfuls into all the unbroken tanks. They certainly won't continue living in these tanks forever. In a month or so, probably less, all these little ten cent fish will die. But for now, they bring a smile to Alex's face, so he's going to return the favor.

Not much longer later, Alex is looking at plastic plates and cups, something they'd yet to grab. He's drawn out of his thoughts by approaching footsteps. They sound too natural to be a zombie's - you start to learn the signs, the dragging, the stumbling, the groaning - so Alex doesn't bother looking up until someone talks.

"Hey, so I know this is plastic, and you said silicone, but is this kinda what we're looking for?" James asked, holding up a pink drinking cup for Alex.

Alexander glanced down at the cup and then back up at James, confused, "What?"

"For your, um, you know." James glanced away, shaking the cup a little bit. He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Is this right?"

Realizing what James was referring to, Alex looked back at the 8oz cup in his hand. He blinked repeatedly, his mind short-circuiting for a moment. James Madison was suggesting that he shove a drinking cup, bigger than his entire hand, up his vag. When Alex gained his voice, all the could come up with was, "How do you think vaginas work, exactly?"

James' flushed face gaspes uselessly for a second, unable to come up with an answer, until he calls out, "Thomas! Hitting distance!"

"I'm here, I'm here." Jefferson calls back, appearing next to them a second later.

Alex had entirely forgotten to grab pads or tampons, and he was going to make his escape to search for some, but he realized he didn't have to. Because as Jefferson appeared next to them, he had packages of Always pads and Tampax under his arm.

Alex couldn't help but stare, "Um."

Jefferson looked down at his supplies and his cheeks darkened. "Hear me out. Have you ever seen She's The Man?"

Alex's heart stopped in his chest as he looked to James, terrified. "Can't say I have."

While James didn't look worried, he was certainly confused. Jefferson cleared his throat as he explained, "Well the basic plot is that a girl is pretending to be a boy. I forget why. I think she goes to an all boy's school? Anyway, she's got tampons right? And her friend - or maybe her roommate? - finds them, and confronts her, thinking she's a he. And she explains that she uses them for nosebleeds. And…" Jefferson trails off then, taking in Alex's horrified expression. He shifts on his feet as he tries to figure out how to best explain himself. He glances at James, who has a pinched expression on his face. Is trying to not laugh? "Look, I know it's super gross and nasty and stuff, but these things are, obviously, really good at soaking up blood. And if we get shot or hurt or something, we'll need some way to stop all the blood. Did you know that pads were used in World War I to stop bullet wounds?"

Alex is unable to speak. Which in an of itself is a feat. He looks to James, his hands shaking as he signs a confused, 'Is he serious?'.

James only laughed and said, "Unfortunately, yes." Then he addressed Jefferson and said, "Excellent idea, Thomas. You get to carry them."

Jefferson made a face, but didn't protest. The rest of the Target trip passed in a blur to Alex. He became very self conscious of every little thing he did. Was this Jefferson's way of telling him he knows? Between the pads and the dress, did he figure it out somehow? Or is he just a movie buff with historical facts to back him up? What gave himself away? Was it his voice? It's deep, but not super deep. Did he realize why Alex actually needs testosterone? Is it his hair? Is it the way he holds himself? What if Jefferson doesn't actually know and Alex confronts him, only to accidently out himself? How would Jefferson react then? What if-

"I think that's everything." James said as they shoved the last of the stuff into the back of the truck. "Now we just need a cover."

"That one has one." Jefferson said, pointing to a truck sitting in the parking lot. "Pray it fits."

It took the men twenty five minutes to figure out how to remove the top without breaking it in any way. It took another fifteen to move it from the first truck to their own, and then five more to make sure it was locked into place properly. The cover made sure everything would be protected from the weather, and provided an extra foot or two to shove shit on top of their previous shit. After the entire ordeal, the men were panting and exhausted. Alex had his arms over his head, trying to open his airways as best as possible. Jefferson was leaning heavily against the truck, gently swinging one of his legs back and forth in an attempt to stretch it. James wiped away the sweat from his forehead with his shirt.

"We should've just moved all of our shit from this truck to that one." Alex panted, "It would've been easier."

"Shut up the fuck up, Hamilton." Jefferson groaned.

Alex huffed in annoyance, "Not my fault your dumbass didn't think of that."

"Well if you're so smart, why didn't you think of it sooner?" Jefferson countered.

James interrupted them once more, speaking over them, "Both of you shut up and get in the truck. We've been here too long."

Reluctantly, both men climbed into the truck. They drove with the windows down in an attempt to ignore their nasty body odor. For a long while, the only sound was their own breathing and the wind. Alex glanced over his shoulder at all their new supplies thrown haphazardly into the protected back of their truck. Something akin to hope or maybe pride, but not as strong, swelled in his chest.

"Someone must be looking out for us. We got basically everything we need today." James said as they started driving out of Amsterdam and heading back towards the highway.

Jefferson nodded along, "Yeah, except for food and water."

"And more weapons." Alex added, turning back to look in front of them.

"Ammo would be nice." Jefferson agreed.

"I don't think we have hats or mittens." Alex commented.

"We could always use more gas."

"And medicine."

"Can't go wrong with a little alcohol."

"A compass, map, GPS-"

James growled as he said, "Okay, neither of you are allowed to talk for the rest of the drive."

Alex laughed and shared a grin with Jefferson. The other man's expression didn't escape him; how he smiled so happily only for it to be instantly dropped, removed, hidden away. Before Alex could analyze the flicker of emotions, Jefferson turned away and looked out the window. Happiness, warmth, a flame; doused so quickly, leaving nothing but wet coal and ash. Briefly, Alex wondered what could possibly be going through that man's mind.

Tell me what you think!