"Alexander…"

He was floating in an endless void; dark and alone. He couldn't remember where, specifically, he was, but he felt at peace. It was warm and cozy, like a freshly made bed. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more a bed seemed to fit. He could almost imagine the pillows under his head.

"Alexander…"

And that voice was so sweet, a voice of love, of kindness. He knew that voice; he missed that voice. Someone brushed a hand through his hair, and he felt his eyes open. He was right; he's in a bed.

"Good morning, dearest." Eliza hovered over him, her long hair was braided and hanging off one shoulder. She kissed him and Alex wished he could freeze the moment, stay there and be with his wife, but she pulled back after a second. She whispered in his ear, "Watch out for the knees."

"Wha- ow!" Alex groaned as tiny child knees stabbed him in the gut, his children screeching in excitement.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Philip shouted as he personally attacked Alexander's unsuspecting spleen. "It's Dollar Store Day!"

"Dollar! Dollar!" Angie agreed, patting his face to wake him up.

Alex groaned, wrapping an arm around each kid and pulling them close to himself so he'd no longer be the victim of such violence. He half-chuckled, half-whined when he said to Eliza, "Here that? It's Dollar Store Day!"

"Ooh!" Eliza winks at him. Every third Saturday of the month, if the kids had been good that week, they take them to the Dollar Store and let them pick out anything they want. Usually that means candy, which Alex is fine with. Cheap, loud toys are less exciting (for him).

The kiddos go wild for it. They vibrate with excitement on the way to the store, ready to make the Most Important Decision of their Lives. It was always pretty fun to watch little Angie follow Pip around, learning what is and isn't worthy of their attention.

"These are icky." Pip would inform Angie, pointing at the boxes of Mike and Ike's. "You don't want them."

Angie would then nod and grab the brightest and most colorful candy - Skittles. Philip would then praise her for making the right choice. Alexander had never seen such blatant candy propaganda before. He was so proud.

He looked around the candy isle, wondering when they got to the store. He feels like he would've remembered getting out of bed. Confused, his hand grabbed at his stomach distractedly. Something hurt. He wasn't sure what, yet. But he had the vague sense of discomfort surrounding him like a mist. He missed his bed.

Suddenly, Angie was crying. Alex picked her up, but that only made her crying closer to his ear. He bounced her on his hip and tried to coo at her, but nothing worked. Then, Pip started pulling on his other hand, screaming as well. He was standing in front of Alex, stamping his feet, his face red. Alex expected him to at least be saying words as he cried, but his voice just blurred together into noise.

"Alexander!" Eliza was on his side, her brown eyes dark with worry. She placed a hand on his shoulder and all the other noise started to fade. It was just her voice, escaping from Alexander's grasp, hissing fearfully, "You're bleeding!"

Alex's eyes snapped open in the darkness. He was awake, like for real this time. He knew he was because everything hurt, and he was in the back of a fucking wagon. He did the mental checklist:

Hungry? Check.

Thirsty? Check.

Anxious? Check.

Back hurts? Double check.

Yeah. He was alive.

He groaned quietly to himself and shifted to get more comfortable. Something warm was pressed behind him, and he leaned back into it. An arm snaked around his waist and Alex sighed contently. Relaxing back against Thomas, he tried to fall back into slumber. He's fine. All is well.

He had to pee.

Frustrated, Alex wormed out from under Thomas' arm and climbed out of the wagon as quietly as possible. He didn't want to wake his friend, after all.

It was so dark out that Alex could see every single star in the sky. That made for a lovely view, but not a very good flashlight. Alex didn't want to wander far from the cart; he didn't trust that the trees were empty. Every shadow was too deep, each one housing a hundred demons that were just waiting to jump out at him. It was gonna be a quick pee.

Or so he thought.

When Alexander first noticed the discoloration of his underwear, he thought it was just a trick of the dark. It was hard to see, so maybe his mind just imagined all those deep stains. Yeah, that makes sense. But then he recognized the musky smell, he sticky feeling on his thighs.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Alex said to himself, staring down at the mess. He remembered his dream, Eliza's warning - did his mind plant a subliminal message in his dream? He body was aware of his situation before he was. He was too mad to be freaked out or impressed. Alex looked back at the wagon, just past the tree line. "Shit!"

Regretfully, he pulled his pants back up. He walked like a cowboy wearing a spreader bar until he reached the wagon. Standing on his tiptoes, he reached into it to shuffle through their supplies. He knows he put the pads somewhere…

"...'Lex?"

Alex grit his teeth. Of fucking course Thomas would wake up then. He started looking faster, unzipping zippers fiercer than necessary. His heart was thundering and he felt sick to his stomach. The last thing he needed right now was to explain menstruation to Thomas.

"Wa's wron'?" Thomas yawned, rubbing his eyes. Alex moved to the next backpack, shoving things aside to try to look in it.

"Nothing." Alex said curtly. He found some new underwear, that'd be helpful. He snatched it and shoved it into his pocket before Thomas could see what he was doing. Pads, pads, he still needed pads…

Thomas was sitting up now, "What're you lookin' for?"

"Nothing!" Alex's entire arm was in this backpack: he was deep fisting to find his treasure. Finally, he felt cheap plastic wrapping - success?!

Hello, Thomas. Alex could only see the other man's face, since the southerner had to get in his space to squint in the dark at him. He was suspicious, Alex could tell. But he also didn't realize that Alexander was currently going through miniature contractions and he wanted to fucking stab himself in the uterus. So, y'know, completely misreading the tone here.

"Come back to sleep?" He said, looking at Alex funny.

Alex shifted on his feet, feeling the gooey, mucusy mess in his pants. "I have to do something first."

"It's dark out; let me come with you-" Thomas started searching around for his leg. This was taking too long. Alex shook his head, pulling the bag of pads out of the backpack.

He turned around and stormed off, shouting over his shoulder, "I just have to piss, fuck off! I'll be back in a minute!"

His tone was harsh, but he was exhausted, and he wanted to be alone for this. Excuse him for needing privacy once in awhile. He spent the entire time he was cleaning up and changing into new underwear being pissed off. He doesn't cry; he doesn't fall into a loathing depression. He just cusses to himself as he almost trips over a root in his struggle to put his pants on in the dark.

When he stalks back to the wagon, Thomas is still sitting up, waiting for him. The other man seems to relax once Alex returns from the woods, but he's still on-edge. Alex shoves the pads back into the bag, along with his soiled underwear. Thomas glanced down at the backpack, then up at Alex.

"Are you okay?" His voice was quiet, unsure.

"M'fine." Alex muttered, rubbing his back. He wished he could sit in a hot tub and just let the water heal his aching muscles. Thomas flinched at his response, and Alex's chest twisted with guilt. He gave in, admitting to himself that Thomas wasn't at fault for his biology. He sighed, "Thomas?"

The other man looked up at him, anxiously wringing his hands on the hem of his shirt. Alex couldn't stand to see him so uneasy. He ran a hand through his hair and said, "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." Thomas interrupted, his voice tense. "You're upset and I can't fix it. I don't know what I did wrong, but…"

Alex decides they're not close enough for this conversation. Physically, that is. He climbs into the wagon and crawls over to sit next to Thomas. He places a hand on Thomas' good knee, ducking his head a bit to make eye contact with the other man.

"Hey," He's whispering now, like that makes the words more important. He finds himself using a similar tone that he'd use with his children when he was in the wrong. Calming, apologetic. "You didn't do anything wrong. I feel bad and I'm taking it out on you. That's unfair of me. I'm sorry."

"You ain't mad?" Thomas placed his hand on top of Alexander's, it was somehow shaky and sweaty at the same time.

Alex smiled, "Not at you."

"Thank God." Thomas whispered to himself. Then, to Alex, "Are you okay? Why do you feel bad?"

Alexander hesitated. He didn't really want to advertise that he was on his period, but Thomas was bound to find out, if he hadn't caught on yet. Still, there was a part of him that feared Thomas' reaction. Was he one of those men who called menstruation disgusting? Would he think less of Alexander? Would he make some transphobic comment again?

Guess we'll see. Alex thought as he laid all his cards down. "Remember when I said I was no longer taking T and my period would return?"

"Yes…" Thomas said slowly, almost like he was hoping Alex would go, 'yeah, that's not relevant, I actually have a cold!'. Instead, Alexander just awkwardly shrugged. Thomas nodded, obviously taking in the information. He licked his lips, then chewed on them, then covered his mouth with his hand entirely; all while staring Alex dead in the eye. "Oh! Okay! Neat!"

Neat. That was the word Thomas landed on. Alex snorted, finding some amusement in Thomas' discomfort. "Dude. What?"

"I-I just forget, sometimes, that you're not a…" Thomas hesitated, his eyes flying wide. Alex waited expectantly as Thomas tried to finish his thought. "...dick-man."

That made Alex laugh. He winked at Thomas, saying, "Oh, I'm certainly a 'dick man'."

Thomas' cheeks flushed and he shoved Alex, "Fuck off! Penis-owner! I don't know!"

"Penis-owner?!" Alex was laughing harder now, imaging all the dildos he'd bought in his life. The cis are so cute.

A shot of pain in his back halted Alexander's amusement. He let out a weak whine and curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his tummy. His whole body shook with the strength of his cramps. He looked up at Thomas' worried eyes, swallowed his pride, and asked, "Will you ... hold me?"

"Of course." Thomas said instantly. He was already shifting over in their makeshift bed to give Alex more room. "Always."

Alex mumbled a quiet, "Thanks," and tried to ignore both the pain in his abdomen and the heat in his cheeks. They both lowered themselves down so they were laying next to each other. They were both on their sides, Alex's head resting on Thomas' arm. He wrapped one arm around Thomas and the other around his own belly. Thomas made sure they were fully pressed together; his arms surrounding Alex. They were face-to-face; Alex staring into Thomas' eyes.

Laying together like this, Alexander was filled with warmth and security. It was easier to ignore the pain in his belly when Thomas ran his fingers through his hair.

"Thank you." Alex whispered, because he wasn't sure what else to say. Strangely, he felt shy. He couldn't figure out why, really. It wasn't like they didn't sleep curled up like this every night. It wasn't like this was really new.

And yet- it was, wasn't it?

He didn't know what it was about them, but ever since that kiss, there has been a shift. It was hard to explain, but it felt like Thomas looked at him differently; all soft smiles and warm eyes. Or maybe he always looked at Alex that way, and he had just never noticed. He had no idea anymore. And every time he thought about it too hard a zombie popped up to remind him that he had bigger problems.

"Any time." Thomas responded quietly. He wiggled his eyebrows and said, "I give a mean back massage."

"Hmm, I'll have to jot that down." Alex smiled, imagining Thomas' big hands on him. He will certainly remember that little fact. They both stared at each other, snickering when the air got too … 'awkward' wasn't the right word, but neither was 'tense'.

Imagine watching a movie where the love interest are about to kiss. The sappy music swells and the camera zooms in; but instead of them actually kissing, they just giggle like teenage girls and have a staring contest. That was them.

"Dude, what?" Thomas snorted softly, obviously ignoring his own giggles.

Alex shrugged, still smiling, "I can't sleep."

Thomas just hummed and raised an eyebrow, "Enjoying cuddle time too much?"

"Wha- no!" Alex sputtered. Even Thomas seemed a little surprised by his comment, but he refused to back down. Alex deflected with a quick, "My stomach hurts, that's all. Makes it hard to get comfy."

Alex wiggled a bit, realizing how uncomfortable he was then. He shifted his arms and changed the angle of his hips a little; ultimately ending up pressed even closer to Thomas, although that wasn't his (primary) intention. When Alex looked back up at Thomas, the other man's expression was hard to read. He didn't seem upset, but there was definitely something not right.

"Thom-"

"Fight me."

Alex blinked in surprise, ready to pull away from him. "What?"

"Fight me, man." Thomas poked Alex in the side. It tickled. Alex let out a giggle, squirming in Thomas' arms. Thomas poked him again, "C'mon, dude." Alex kept wiggling and giggling until Thomas's strong hands were suddenly holding him very still. He looked up into Thomas' suddenly sharp eyes. "Pros of the apocalypse. Go."

"Uh-" Alex hesitated for only a second to allow his mind to catch up. Then, "An immediate end of pollution due to billion dollar corporations ignoring regulations, that would create a shift in climate change."

"Yay, the rainforest." Thomas' lips quirked in a smile. "But since no one is there to remove the plastic that has already accumulated in the ocean and in landfills, there's no chance they'll ever be fully removed from the environment."

Alex felt his heart spark with the excitement of an argument, "Sure. But now that there are no more poachers and now that the environment can heal; endangered animals can grow in population and no longer will be endangered of extinction."

"Except for all of the animals that are held in hospitals, zoos, and reserves that depend on people to feed them regularly." Thomas said, his hands gentler on his skin now - when did they dip below his shirt? Alex can do that, too. He slipped his hand under Thomas' shirt so his fingers could slide across his back.

Alex asked, "How long are we doing this?"

Thomas replied, "Until I like your answer."

Well, shit, Alex couldn't back down now. He frowned, "Since a majority of the human population is dead, that means that there was, essentially, a halt to all wars. That includes the ending of civilian deaths and radicalist plans."

"The apocalypse stopped ISIS?" Thomas teased, his fingers rhythmically tapping on Alex's hips. "That's your claim?"

Alex rolled his eyes, "Everything is free now."

Thomas snorted, "And broken, or rotten, or someone took it first."

"You never have to give a speech in front of anyone again." Alex said, nudging him.

Thomas paused for a second before countering, "But I also don't get to see the satisfaction in a student's eyes when they finally understand something."

Alex pouted, his exhausted mind unable to think any longer. "I don't know… It's quiet?"

Thomas considered that, shifting to sit up a little bit more on his elbow; propping his head up with his hand. He asked, curious, "Is that a pro?"

"Yes. No. Sometimes." Alex huffed, growing more frustrated. He shifted to look up at the sky above them. "The stars are beautiful."
"They were beautiful before." Thomas said, still watching Alex.

"Yeah, but you could never see them before. They were always a thousand miles away. Now, because of the apocalypse, there's no lights, and you can see them every night." Alex gestured up to the twinkly little guys. The stars truly were a surprise gift that the zombies gave them. It was no wonder travelers of ancient times used the stars as their guides. You could see every single one from here, and it was a fantastic view.

Thomas shrugged, "I've seen stars. You just gotta travel far enough into the country."

Alex shook his head, stubborn, "Not like this."

Fingers scratched at Alex's lower back. It was gentle, but it still surprised him. He glanced back to Thomas, who raised an eyebrow.

"Next answer."

His cramps spiked and Alex growled, grasping at straws. It was difficult to name the benefits of the apocalypse because it fucking sucked. What are the pros of war? Of famine and death? Of getting your period for the first time in, like, twenty years? Jack shit. He complained, "C'mon, Thomas, I already listed tons of things. Let's switch topics or something."

"Naw, man, keep goin'." Thomas poked and scratched him, goading, "Do it, do it!"

Alex swatted at his hand, his string about to snap, "The apocalypse is shit."

"Wrong answer." Thomas clicked his tongue, "Another!"

"Fuck, what do you want me to say?!" Alex hissed, his face suddenly hot with all his pent up frustrations since waking up. He was tired of playing Thomas' little game; it was fun at first but now he wanted to sleep. In his exhausted anger, he said, "You! You are the best part of the apocalypse! You are the one and only pro to come out of this shit show that actually matters to me! Is that what you want to hear!?"

That must not have been what Thomas was expecting. He stared at Alex in complete shock; silent and unmoving. Alex glanced away, realizing what he had just admitted. He felt his cheeks burn and he thanked the stars for hiding his blush. He forced himself to take some shaky breaths before he looked back to Thomas again.

Awkwardly, he added, "We wouldn't have met if it weren't for the apocalypse."

Thomas opened his mouth, then closed it again. He swallowed, licked his lips, then tried again, "Uh- um." Alex internally groaned. He done fucked up again. Thomas was never going to let him kiss him ever again. The man in question mumbled, "I'm sure James would've introduced us eventually."

"What, during, like, his and Dolly's 50th anniversary?" Alex joked bitterly. He let out a short huff out of his nose, "It wouldn't have been the same; we would both be married, if it weren't for the apocalypse."

"W-why would that matter?" Thomas asked. Call Alex biased, but he sounded hopeful. Alex just wasn't sure what he was hoping for.

Suddenly they felt far too close. Alex could count every scratch on the other man's face; he could trace the outline of dirt spots with his eyes. Alex wanted to be closer; to touch. He wanted to run away. His stomach was alight with butterflies; sending shivers up and down his spine. He panicked.

What do you say to that? How do you respond to awkwardly insinuating that you'd bang your friend in James' closet at his 50th wedding anniversary in an alternate universe where zombies stay on the movie screen? No homo? Does no homo apply here?

Alex turned and propped himself up, mirroring Thomas. They stared into each other's eyes, sharing one another's breath. Alex tried to come up with a response, but his mind was blank with panic. Finally, he defaulted to humor. Humor is safe.

"Because I love you so much." Alex whispered with a wink, mimicking the obnoxious behavior of those bus-stealers from so long ago. Thomas' face runs through a million expressions: surprise, excitement, confusion, realization, frustration, happiness.

Thomas' smile is too wide, his purr too thick, as he leans up and over Alex to whisper, "No, my dear little Alexander, it is I who-"

BANG!

Thomas' body jerked as the bullet lodged into his shoulder. Alex felt hot, sticky blood splatter onto his face as Thomas stared down at him in horror, his mouth agape. Adrenaline sprinted through Alexander with such a speed that nothing could stop it.

Nononononononononono no! This can't be happening, this can not be happening!

"A-A-l-lex-za-a-" Thomas was gasping. Alex could barely hear him over the whining of the horse and the sudden shouting from the distance. Thomas keep trying to talk, his face twisted in confusion. "A-and-der-er."

"Shh, shh." Alex said, remembering how to function, pushing past the alarm bells in his head. He felt Thomas' lower half collapse atop him, but the other man kept his eyes focused on Alexander's face, still trying to talk. Alex was shaking, he couldn't look away from Thomas' twisted expression.

"Y-y-you-ur … b-b-bleh- bleed…" Thomas pressed his fingers to where his blood dripped on Alex's chin, "bleed-in-ing…"

Tears were forming in Alex's eyes, but he couldn't let them fall. He couldn't think about the bullet in Thomas' shoulder or how scared he was for his friend. He took a second to close his eyes and take a determined breath. Then, he pushed aside his emotions and got to work.

"Stay still, be quiet. Don't die." Alex whispered, gently sliding out from under Thomas. He pressed a quick kiss to the man's forehead before he twisted around to grab the gun. He made sure he stayed lower than the walls of the wagon, so the gunman (hopefully) can't see him. Carefully, Alex peaked out over the wall to see who their attacker was.

There were three men walking towards them. All three had guns, which they swung low at their sides. They were illuminated by the headlights of their van, which was blasting eighties rock music.

How the fuck this group managed to sneak up of the two of them, Alex will never know. The good news is, he had the element of surprise. They believed Thomas was the only person in the wagon, and when he slumped down, they believed him to be - don'tthinkaboutthat.

Quickly, Alex took aim. He shot the one in the middle, who dropped instantly. The other two reacted; lifting their guns, sprinting for cover. Thomas groaned quietly behind him, and Alex called over his shoulder, "I'm serious, babe. If you die, I'll kill you."

"You're mean." Thomas mumbled through gritted teeth. His body was starting to shake, and his eyes were squeezed shut.

Alex ignored him, peering through his scope to see into the bushes. He knew one of the bad guys was on his left, while the other went right. They were trying to surround him, catch him off guard. He couldn't let that happen.

Forcing himself to take slow breaths through his nose, he stared into the darkness, watching for someone staring back. His ears were strained, trying to catch the sound of footsteps, of rustling leaves, of anything.

The world was silent.

Even when Alex glanced over his shoulder to look the other direction; he could see in his peripheral that Thomas' lips were moving. Either he wasn't actually speaking, or Alexander had gone temporarily deaf. While keeping his focus on the forest a few feet away, Alexander nudged Thomas, asking, "Still alive?"

"Mm- bedtime?" Thomas slurred, almost inaudible. His breathing was coming out choppy now, and Alex could see the sweat on the other man's face, even in the darkness.

"You can't sleep when there are monsters nearby." Alex muttered to himself, looking through his scope. He saw some darker darkness within the darkness move behind some other darkness and figured he might as well shoot that. He pulled the trigger and ducked down when someone started shooting back.

The sounds of the gunshots made all the birds wake and take flight. Alex tried to focus on their calls rather than the bang bang bang of someone trying to kill him. He poked his head up just enough to fire off two more rounds but it was pointless. He couldn't see shit.

Unless God Himself guided his bullets, he was never going to hit them. The horse was both A) not attached to the wagon and B) tied up to a tree; so they couldn't even make a quick escape. They were sitting ducks, Thomas was bleeding out, and Alex was completely in over his head.

Sounds like the perfect time for a panic attack.

"Oh my god." Alex breathed to himself, clutching his gun tightly. His hands were sweating and he couldn't focus. His thoughts were racing; Thomas is hurt, he's gonna die, its all my fault, I can't shoot them, I can't see them, we're going to die, holy shit, holy fuck, dear God, please help, fuck fuck fuck fuck!

"Did'ja get 'em?" One voice suddenly said from his left.

"Think so." A voice on his right replied.

Alex froze. They were right. There.

Slowly, he moved his gun so it was positioned better to shoot the man on his right, hoping if he got close enough, just maybe they'd have a chance.

"Sweet." Lefty said, shifting away. Alex could hear his boots crushing the sticks and dried leaves under him. "I'm gonna call the others."

Alex heard radio static as the guy started talking. In the meantime; Righty had gotten curious about their kills and had walked just close enough that his head poked over the side of the wagon. As soon as he saw the other man's face, Alex pulled the trigger.

Righty screamed, "YOU LITTLE SHIT!" as he grabbed the bleeding hole in his head that used to be his ear. Alex shot at him again, and this time he went down. He heard boots scuffling behind him and turned just in time for Lefty to punch him square in the nose. The momentum of it had Alex falling back into the wagon, his head hitting one of their supply bags on the way down.

There was a sudden ringing in Alex's ear, and his vision was dotting. He blinked and blinked and blinked, trying to refocus his mind; but his thoughts were lost to the wind.

His vision focused just enough to see Thomas staring at him with equally as glassy eyes. The other man grunted and puffed as he pushed his hand across the wagon's floor, too tired to lift it. Alex's gaze followed Thomas' hand as it inched closer and closer until it found its destination.

Their fingers brushed, then Alex shifted his hand enough until they could slide their fingers together, interlocking. There was a thundering in Alexander's head, but he found comfort in Thomas' eyes.

The other man was crying, silent tears flowing down his cheeks. The back of his shirt, which Alex had refused to look at before, had soaked past red, and was now a deep, bloody burgundy.

Thomas cleared his throat, a determination in his eyes. His voice was scratchy and dry, while also wet with emotion and pain. "I-it- it isss… I … who-who…" Alex squinted, confused. What was he saying…? "Who loves … you." Thomas took a big breath, and let it out saying his name like a sigh, "Alexander."

Alex's brain was too exhausted and too damaged to try to figure out how that was relevant to the situation. He stared at the other man blankly, squeezing his hand tight. He replied, "Stay. Alive."

Then the world started to spin and Alex had to close his eyes to keep from throwing up. He didn't open them again.

When Alexander awoke next, he was sitting in the back of a cop car, of all things. Thomas was leaning against him, his eyes closed. Alex jerked his hands to touch him, to see if he was okay, but he was handcuffed, and then those handcuffs were tied to the metal bars separating the front of the car from the back. Thomas' hands were the same, except they were tied to something under the seat. While Alex had to twist around with his hands above him, Thomas got to nap with his hands comfortably in his lap. Cuz that's fair.

Alex quickly glanced around and saw that no one was in the car with them. The van from earlier was just a few feet away from them and a group of men stood beside it, chatting. There were four of them, but the guy that Alex shot wasn't with them. Guess he didn't get back up.

Alex turned his attention back to his friend. He winced when he moved his head to quickly, making the world tilt sideways. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain and vertigo to pass.

"Thomas." He hissed, nudging him with his shoulder. "Thomas! Wake up!"

Thomas groaned quietly and snuggled closer to Alex's neck. It would've been cute in literally any other situation. (It was still pretty cute in this situation.) Alex heard himself whine as he stopped his feet, "Thomaaas! Please!"

"W'ha'd'ya'want?" Thomas mumbled without opening his eyes. Alex immediately felt something untwist in his chest at proof of sass. He was alive; he was annoyed; he was okay. Thank God!

"They trapped us in this car, Thomas, what'd we do?" He asked, trying to get the other man to lift his head off his shoulder. Thomas refused to move, his expression only twitching slightly.

"I'dunno." Then, pouting, "My shoulder hurts."

"Yeah, you were shot and it turned you into a giant toddler." Alex grumbled, turning to look back at the men by the van. They had moved to the wagon and were now going through their supplies. He tried to pound on the glass, but just ended up jerking his wrists against the handcuffs. "No! Damn it! We need that shit!"

"Y'ur'a tod'ler." Thomas grumbled. "Tod'ler sized."

Alex threw his head back against the headrest, frustrated that the comfy seat didn't thunk like he wanted it to. He stared up at the ceiling of the car and sighed to himself, "This is how I die? Handcuffed in the back of a cop car?" He thought for a minute, then shrugged, "Sounds about right."

"We ain't gonna die." Thomas said against his shoulder, sounding a little more clear-headed than earlier. "We're goin' ta' jail."

"Jail?" Alex asked.

Thomas lifted his hands weakly, shaking them a little to show off his fancy chained bracelets. "Do not pass Go. Do not" he started to yawn, the exhale sending a shudder through his body that made him grimace, "collect 200..."

Alex watched as the men climbed out of the car. One of the guys headed towards the horse, while the others started walking back to their vehicles. "Jail is basically Monopoly death."

Thomas' body started to jerk suddenly, his breathing coming out in hisses. He gripped Alex's shirt with his teeth, pinching some skin a little.

"Thomas!?" Alex asked, "Are you okay?"

Thomas didn't respond at first, too busy panting as the waves of pain faded. He spoke with a tight voice, "Yup. Doin' dandy. Just got a bully in me shouldy."

"What?" Alex frowned, staring at the other man. Thomas' eyes squinted open just enough so he could glaring at him.

"I was fucking shot, Hamilton, keep up."

"Yeah, well who's trying to save our asses?" Alex snapped, "and who's been completely useless so far?"

Thomas shrugged, then froze up with pain at the action, before he weazed, "I dunno, seems fifty-fifty here."

Alex rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fuck." He glanced out the window again, two men were walking around the sides of the car. "Here they come."

The doors opened and the lights of the car turned on, which blinded Alex for a few seconds. The driver turned around and grinned at them, "Hello, boys! You've made a mess of my friend over there." He nodded to the corpse on the floor, "That was the wrong decision."

The passenger nodded, "The ones that make messes get punished first."

"Punished?" Alex asked. He wasn't confused with the concept - they were trying to threaten him - he just couldn't understand why they made it sound so kinky.

The driver explained, "Jackson doesn't like it when you kill his men. So the more of us you hurt, the more you hurt."

Alex was nodding slowly, staring at them like the lunatics they are, "Of course. And how is Mr. Jackson? I've heard a bit about him."

Thomas nudged him, frowning. He whispered, "Qu'est-ce que tu fais?"

"Je ne sais pas." Alex shrugged, "J'essaie d'en savoir plus."

"Hey! Hey!" The driver said, glaring at them through the rear view mirror. "What're you saying back there?"

"Stop that shit right now!" The passenger replied, pulling out his pistol.

Thomas winced when his shoulder began to throb, groutching, "Vous allez tous nous faire tuer!"

"Where are you taking us?" Alex ignored his friend, the situation, and the gun being pointed at him. He barely blinked when the pistol's barrel stared him down. What's he got to lose? "And, for that matter, why?"

The pistol clanked against the gate separating the front seat from the back. The passenger barked, "We ask the questions around here, got that!"

"Why did you kidnap us?" Alex growled back, refusing to back down. Thomas was bleeding out and his hands were - literally - tied. (Well, cuffed. His point stands.) There's nothing he can do, except talk. "Are we your prisoners? Slaves? Bait?"

"This brat is asking for it." The driver grumbled, "I'm sure Jackson will understand if there was a little 'accident' on the way back."

Before Alex could open his big mouth again, Thomas stepped down hard on his foot, a fire burning in his eyes. "Tais toi, Hamilton."

The driver slammed on the breaks, making Alex bonk his head on the bars before him. Both the men whipped around, staring at him. "You're Hamilton!?"

Alex and Thomas glanced at each other. Alex tipped his chin up, asking, "And if I am?"

The two men looked at Alex, then to each other, then to Alex again. Finally, the driver asked the passenger, "What do we do?"

"We drive faster." The passenger replied. "Sooner he's in front of Jackson, the sooner we'll get the reward."

Alex blinked, frowning, "Reward?"

"Oh, Jackson's gonna have fun with you." Driver sneered.

"And we'll get front row seats." Passenger added, snickering.

Alex and Thomas shared confused looks once more as the driver and passenger started talking to one another. The driver parked the car and pulled out his walkie-talkie, informing their friend in the van of their discovery.

The driver laughed, "Yeah, no shittin'! We got fuckin' Hamilton in our back seat."

"Hey, out of curiosity, how do you know me?" Alex asked, leaning forward to smile at the passenger. "It's just awkward, you know, 'cuz I don't know your name and we just met and-"

"Ugh, he won't shut up." The driver muttered into the walkie-talkie.

"Just chloroform him." The walkie-talkie replied. "That's fuckin' weird, tho. I didn't see any of his whores when we snuck up on him. Just him and that cripple."

The passenger got out of the car, holding a bottle and a cloth. Alex watched as he made his way around the car. Still listening to the driver stroke his own ego, saying, "Who cares? Leave them to the zombies." He turned to grin evilly at Alex as he said, "Imagine what Jackson'll say when we bring him Philip Hamilton on a golden platter."

"Wait, what?!" Alex asked, his heart stopping in his chest.

Philip Hamilton? But that could only mean-

His door opened as the passenger grabbed him by the shirt, trying to shove the chloroform rag in his mouth. Alex thrashed, trying to reach for Thomas with his hands tied up. His gaze never left Thomas' wide eyes as he shouted nonsense.

The burning smell of chemicals invaded his senses as the rag was stuffed down his throat. Alex's eyes watered and his vision faded once more, until he could no longer see Thomas' panicked expression.

Even as he blacked out he could think only one thing:

My family's alive.

Tell me what you think!