I would love to say the rest of the trek was uneventful, but that would be a lie. While not as eventful as I feared it might be, it was anything but smooth sailing. Not even halfway to my street, a few straggling infected turned their sights on us, and just as I had before, I did what I had to to protect myself and Mick, though somehow I don't think my input was necessary where he was concerned, as he seemed to have his crap together all on his own. It was…weird, actually. He watched his front and took care of whatever threat came his way, and it almost seemed like he trusted me to have his back. Not once did I see him shuffle about in a panic, or whip around to check his surroundings, as he had the tendency to do. He simply took care of one and moved on to the next, and you know what's really weird? I was kind of in the same boat. I guess my subconscious just knew he'd catch any that I didn't, and he'd keep me safe, just as I did for him. It's almost like we were a real, functioning TEAM. Were it under different circumstances, that might've been a cool thought, but I'll admit, I was distracted by and stewing in my own mind.

And...well, you know, you watch TV and movies, and they always seem to claim that violence gets easier the more you do it. Slaying another person for survival just becomes a part of your everyday life, and you just do whatever you have to do. Maybe that's the case for some. I did what I had to do a few times now, and it wasn't easy, nor had it gotten easier in the slightest. Maybe if I massacred half the city that would change (because, y'know - 'the more you do it-'), but that is absolutely not in my plans, even if the whole place was crawling with the infected. I feel like that could probably be avoided. Then again, I'm no expert. Regardless, I hate the thought of harming these people, these SICK individuals who need HELP, and I've made a silent vow that, if at all possible, I'll slip around them. Going home, I hadn't had that option, but when all was said and done, every one of their snarling faces was on my mind, and I quietly apologized to every single one of them before they fell.

Yet again, I had to remind myself that we needed cover, and once we had it, I could let myself feel all those horrible things that were threatening to boil over. And threatening, they were. I think Mick sensed it, too. Once I caught him red handed, but the other times it was out of the corner of my eye, staring at me with that curious head tilt, raspy breaths coming slowly while he merely observed. I tried to play it off. Keep pushing on, I told myself. It's all we could do, and at that point, we were so close!

Mick remained at my side all the way through, and he even seemed to catch on that I wanted to avoid confrontations. He always seemed so relieved when we'd slip around the back of a building, or duck between cars to avoid wandering infected. When the time came, though…well, like I said, he had my back. As far as battle buddies go, I guess I didn't make out too bad, did I? He didn't need me to hold his hand through it (which would have ended horribly anyway because, haha, I'm not a fighter. At all ) and he could protect himself, and me by extension. What more could I ask for? So, when all was said and done, he and I continued on our merry way in relative silence - as silent as we could be with the smoker's hacking and gasping breaths. At least, for a little while.

"Hey." When I turned his way, his attention was centered on me. "You gotta promise me something: if they're there when we get there, you gotta be nice. That means no tongue….thing. Got it?"

His hoarse grumble answered, but I paid it little mind. I knew he didn't understand, but that was okay. Worse case scenario, and things hit the fan, I was confident that I could diffuse the situation, on both ends, well before things turned horrible.

"They're…definitely not gonna expect you. But, if you play nice, maybe.,." I trailed off there. Maybe what? Mom would just accept him right off the bat? Sure, I could hope for that, and maybe that acceptance would come a little sooner due to the fact he was with me and hadn't harmed me (and is a huge part of the reason my ass is still alive and kicking), but I knew that was a stretch. She had other kids to worry about and keep safe, and even with me recounting his good deeds, I knew my mom well enough to know she wouldn't take the chance. At best, she might let him hang around the house, outside in the yard. And the more I thought about it, the worse I felt about it. I mean, honestly - since the day I let him into my haven, we'd been together. Neither of us ventured very far without the other in tow, and the thought of leaving him outside while I was safe in the house? That struck me the wrong way.

But, once again, I was getting ahead of myself. I have that habit, apparently.

"Well…anyway…" That was enough depressing thoughts for one minute. Between slaying the infected, and now THAT - time for a little bit of happiness. "I gotta admit, it'll be nice to go home for a little while. I mean, our place isn't SPECTACULAR or anything, but…guess it's got enough charm to make me miss it, y'know? It was way too cramped for all of us, honestly, so my brother and I kinda escaped whenever we could. Went to the creek at the back of the yard and just hung out there, usually before Mom called us in for dinner or something."

Ah, that creek. It'll be nice to see it for the nostalgia and that brief flashback to normalcy, but honestly, there's another reason I started looking forward to it. By that point, I was sure running water was no longer an option, and I was feeling gross as hell, so while creek water may not have been ideal for cleansing, it was going to work. Beggars can't be choosers. I would just have to be cautious about it…but I guess that's where Mick could come in. My big, noisy bodyguard.

I don't remember what else I talked to him - talked AT him, about. Pretty sure I was just rambling, but he didn't seem to care in the slightest. He happily listened, as he always did. It was a bit of a walk, and I think the excitement that hit me when we turned down my street from the main drag. God, I wish I could accurately describe it, that feeling of sheer relief and hope when we hit the corner and I saw my mailbox lining the sidewalk, just a short distance away. With that, I also noticed the car wasn't in the driveway. It didn't fit in our little garage, so to me, that said it was gone, assuming with Mom and my siblings inside. There was only one way to know for sure, though.

The street itself was desolate, almost silent save for my quickened footfalls and Mick's shuffling attempts to keep up. I wanted to bolt to the house, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be able do the same (unless that shambling gait was just for show), and I didn't want to just leave him in the dust. He was coming in with me, after all. And if I hit the front door and a bunch of infected were lurking along the side of the house, I wanted him with me.

We hit the front yard, then the door, and I realized how badly my hands were shaking as I turned the knob. Excitement, fear, concern, relief - the combination was getting to me apparently, and it didn't fade, even as the door failed to give. Someone locked it, but that was okay, as there is a Plan B. I gestured for Mick to follow me towards the back of the house, cautiously peeking around corners before we made our move, where sat a back door leading inside the garage, which had ANOTHER door leading into the house itself. That one was always technically locked, but the damn thing was so loose and old, it wouldn't hold against an intruder. Hell, I'm pretty sure a breeze in the right direction could shake it loose, so we'd usually stick a chair in front of it at night. It might not be a foolproof way of keeping intruders out, but it was better than nothing. Thankfully, we weren't intruders; just an exhausted me and my infected friend desperate for shelter from the heat and horrors outside. Still, there was a problem. I turned the knob, pushed the door, and the give was minimal.

Someone used the damn chair. I wanted to be mad about it, but let's be honest, that was actually pretty smart.

After a short struggle, thinking maybe I could jar it loose, I stepped back to find Mick watching my attempts with what I swear to God was amusement touching that pale eye. The jerk. "Alright, new plan. I'm gonna see if I can get in a window instead. Someone put stuff in front of the door, so I'll get in there, move it, and let you in. Okay?"

No answer, of course. I moved away to start a search for at least one window accidentally left open. Barely had I turned my back when I heard a booming CRACK behind me. Naturally I whirled around to see just what in the ever-loving HELL Mick was doing, only to find him once again slamming his shoulder against the door. Another crack, and the dude got results. The door swung HARD, sending things inside screeching over tiles, and while it didn't open all the way, it did so just enough to let us squeeze inside. Mick eyed his handiwork, perhaps gauging if it needed another hit or not, but then he turned to me with a low, breathy noise and stepped back, like he was clearing a path for me to go on ahead. All I could do was stare at the gap for a second, and I remember muttering something to him along the lines of, "Yeah, okay, or we could do it your way "

And now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I got a glimpse of just how he got himself out of that storage room, the day we met. Just bash his way through the broken door, no problem. For such a wuss, he's pretty darn strong, no denying that. Way to go, Mick.

I jumped on the opportunity, though, and carefully slipped inside. Behind me came rustling and a few annoyed coughs, so I knew my buddy was right on my tail, squeezing through the path he's made. Now, with the way our house was set up, entering the back door as we had brought us right into the kitchen. Behind the open door was the fridge, and beside that started the countertops that lined the walls in an L shape, and right in the center of the room was the table. Usually. As it turned out, part of the reason the door was so damn hard for me to open was the fact someone had moved that heavy-ass table in front of it. Smart move, good job, guys.

"...Mom? Danny?" I fell quiet, waiting for any noises added to Mick's usual array, but nothing came. No shuffle of movement, no answer, and - to my immense relief - no growling. I took that to mean nothing had gotten in, thank God. Once more I called out to them and once more was met with silence, meaning Mick and I were alone in the house. On the bright side, that sent my earlier concerns right out the window. No one had to worry about hostility or misunderstandings or whatever. On the other hand, though…well, they weren't HERE, so I was still left in the dark. Left behind and in the dark. Ain't that just SWELL.

I breathed a sigh, watching Mick as he'd apparently taken to inspecting the empty countertops. Usually we did keep food out, snacks and fruit and such, so I wondered if perhaps he could still smell it there. Then again, he could just be checking things out. Hard to say with him sometimes. "Well, guess it's just us, huh? Not sure if I'm happy or sad about that, but…it is what it is. At least they got the hell out of here."

Either that, or I was going to stumble across a very unpleasant surprise at some point. And I was silently praying to any deity that would listen that that wasn't going to be a thing.

I leaned my bat against a wall and emptied my pockets of all the stuff I'd managed to carry, dropping the mess on a counter. Can't say it was much. There's only so much that will fit in jean pockets, after all, but now that we were HERE, I might be able to find a bag or something (provided my family hadn't grabbed them all before they'd left) to carry a bit more. Maybe stock up on whatever supplies were left behind…after the two of us had had a decent rest. Honestly, more than anything, I was looking forward to washing the grime off me. It had gotten to the point that I realized a smell I wanted so badly to complain about was, uh…was actually ME, so it was about time.

"Alright, well…make yourself at home, I guess. I'm gonna see if I can find some towels - maybe some new clothes, too." Something lighter and cooler for the daytime. If the infected didn't manage it, the heat was going to be the death of me. Everything I'd been wearing at that time was sticking in places it didn't belong, so a change of clothes was sounding heavenly, as was a dip in the creek, as long as it was safe enough for the latter. I didn't see anything out there when we'd come around back, but then again, I was focused on the back door and NOT whatever was going on in the backyard. Stupid on my part, but in my own defense, I had priorities, and if there was a threat lurking back there at that time, I was sure Mick would have alerted to it, and he'd been entirely calm. Granted, just because nothing was out there at that time didn't mean squat now. The situation could change in a blink, but if I'd pay attention, I could have had a 'baseline', so to speak. I'd have an idea of what was there, if anything, and kept an eye on it.

Ah well, it was too late at that point, and I had a new mission. Whatever was going on outside, we'd deal with it later.

For now - clothes.