The ride home was miserable in every way. Milz shuffled in the backseat of the sleek gray car that Dempsey was driving, his hands in his lap and his eyes on the floor. The thought of Alice disappearing on the playground and the daydream he'd had began to bother him more than it should have. He knew for a fact that Alice wasn't coming back. The look on Lona's face had told him so. The only thing that the zombie had wished for was to reverse time. To run it back as far as possible and not let Alice talk him into being worshiped by demonic children.

He'd messed up again. This time, at the cost of his only friend.

"Hey, kid." Milz tilted his head up ever so slightly to meet with his American father's blue orbs in the rear-view mirror. "You alright?"

The undead only responded with a simple sigh and an unenthusiastic 'yes, daddy.' Tank knew that something was up. Milz had never acted this way. In fact, he hadn't been acting normal these past few days. He blew up on him and his roommates, demanded things of them and threw fits when he didn't get what he wanted, when he wanted it. Ever since he'd been sent back to school, after punching Jacob in his snobby little nose, he'd been acting strange. The zombie would call himself 'King' and march around the house with his chin held high.

Now, Dempsey wasn't the kind of guy to pick up on things from the get-go, but this behavior stuck out like a calm Richtofen. Milz wasn't a snobby kid. He was disciplined. If he'd said something that wasn't appropriate or acted out in any way, he was put back into his place. The Veterans would never hit the boy. No way in hell. They were all too lazy for that anyway. He'd usually get a flick on the nose, a side glare or get something taken away from him. Anything with Captain America on it was usually the target.

Takeo had also picked up on the zombified child's strange behavior and even expressed his concerns to the group one day. They were all settled in on the couch, staring into the flat screen and watching something about World War 2. Dempsey and Nikolai would tease Richtofen about how Nazi's were 'not a challenge' and 'soooo easy to take down.' The Doctor would threaten to turn them into his puppets and rip out their internal organs with his gloved hands.

When the Samurai piped up about how Milz was acting strange, the conversation struck like lightning. Everyone had a concern or something say. The Nazi boasted about how it was just a phase and that they were overreacting, but the trio refused to take his word. The crew had to stick together about things like this. After all, they were pretty much considered a family at this point. They had a role in Milz's life and if one of them were off their game, it was up to the others to get him back on the road.

Richtofen definitely played the motherly role. He cooked and cleaned and was often the person that Milz went to for help. The Doctor forced his smiles whenever his little zomboy was around, avoiding his usual glare and occasional outbursts at nothing in particular. He was the reason why Milz was here and had to be there for him nearly every single second that he could. No matter how badly he wanted to experiment on him and destroy things out of sheer frustration, he couldn't. He would never say it himself, but he had a soft spot for the zombie. Edward would do things like count to ten and bite his hand painfully hard if he found the urge to kill. His medication did help a lot, but there were a few things that he had to control on his own.

Dempsey played the fatherly role. He would often be on the couch in front of the TV, raiding the refrigerator or lifting weights until his arms screamed for mercy. He never answered his cell phone and was the main culprit behind all of the energy drinks in the refrigerator and the faint smell of sweat that wafted around the living room. Richtofen complained damned near 24/7 for Tank to get off of his 'American ass' and do something around the house, much to the Marine's dismay. He wasn't what would be considered a 'deadbeat dad', as he'd step up to the plate if something was needed of him from Milz. Milz was his second chance at parenthood, as he'd lost his daughter to brain-munchers during the apocalypse. He'd often give the kid fighting tips and told him to never let people push him around and if they do, you show them whose boss. The zombie had cleared up any stereotypes that had remained in the blond's mind, because he was different and unique in many ways.

Nikolai was kind of like that drunk Uncle that nobody really minded or even attempted to care about, but everybody loved him anyway. The drunk was always either doing one of three things: drinking, sleeping or cutting the grass. He was never seen doing anything else. He always had a hangover and if he were to be woken up from his sleep, he'd either be a whiny crybaby or huff and puff in a drunken rage. Luckily, he was a deep sleeper and those reactions were rarely seen. Milz was his 'sleep-buddy'. They'd often sleep around, eat or watch TV. They'd drink juice and vodka and ignore the world around them. The Russian was the zombie's getaway from the stressful, 5 year-old world.

Lastly, but not the least, Takeo did his part better than anyone else. He was Milz's occasional advice and helper. Takeo distanced himself from everyone nearly all of the time. He would wake up around 11am everyday, do his part in the house and retreat back to his room without a word. He loved being alone and away from the noise that was his roommates. He could be called Milz's brother, based on the way that he never really did talk to him unless it was necessary, but made sure to always keep their connection alive. The Japanese would take the kid on walks and to the museum every now-and-then, just to make sure that Milz knew that he existed.

Together, they were a family. They never really admitted it, but they were a family. Dysfunctional, but still a family and Milz's recent behavior was a huge concern at this point. Tank kept his mouth closed for the rest of the ride, not really wanting to prod the undead anymore than he'd already had.

As soon as the front door opened, Milz sulked his way to his room, once again not bothering to acknowledge his family. He was actually hurt. He needed comfort, but refused to accept any. He went down a dark hall, walking by a box of lights that were going to be hung up on the dark walls soon. He stepped past a closet and walked by the laundry room, ignoring the soft hum that emitted from the washing machine.

Next, the zombie dragged himself past Dempsey's room and turned a corner. Milz walked by Takeo's room, the quietest room in the house. His room was also soundproof, giving him the extra privacy that he desperately needed majority of the time. He walked by a bathroom and right before Richtofen's room, was his own. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, proceeding to crash onto his tiny bed. The undead wanted nothing to do with anyone, unless they were Alice.

He thought of how she'd approached him on the first day, grabbing a seat next to him and brightening his entire world with her smile. She related to him in many ways and even stood up to his bully before he did. She joined him everyday in the same spot during recess, that is until he became King. It was then that Milz realized that he'd been neglecting Alice for quite sometime. He left her to play by herself during recess and eat alone during lunch. He never payed attention to who related to him most.

The thought of Lona sucking the energy out of his zombie friend's body was far too much and he drifted off to sleep, hoping that what he'd lived through was nothing more than a dream. A terrible, terrible dream.

The Doctor stalked the kitchen, preparing dinner and laughing evilly to himself the entire time. He seasoned this and seasoned that, cut this and cut that, STABBED this and STABBED that.

Whoa. Relax. It's just cooking.

With a deep sigh and a quick count to ten, he continued preparing a special treat. Richtofen was actually in a good mood tonight. He managed to harvest dinner with lots of screaming and begs for mercy. He'd been hard at work all day long in the basement, making sure that his patients were happy at home. He also worked on the teleporter that was hidden down there and gave it it's first test run. With one of Dempsey's socks. The sock left in a crackle of thunder but never came back. Good luck finding a matching pair.

A cheery 'ding' caught his attention and he slipped a red mitten onto his hand, opening the oven and pulling out dinner. He took a heavy sniff of the delights and nearly burst into song and dance. Everything had come out just fine. Now to announce his latest creation. The Nazi picked up the tray and headed to the living room.

"Hey, Kraut! What's for dinner?" a famished American wondered, sitting with his other two roommates. "Something smells like shit..."

"'Wunderbar' is what you should've said, stupid pig!" Edward laughed, too excited to send a nasty comment the blond's way.

"Yeah, whatever. What's for dinner?"

"Stuffed liver!" The Doctor announced, a fanfare ringing in the back of his mind. He held the tray of stuffed human livers out, grinning a dark and delighted grin.

The American's skin paled and he covered his mouth to avoid upchucking all over the red living room carpet. Nikolai took a quick sip of his vodka, eying the dinner down. He usually did this when he was attempting to figure out how to escape a situation. Takeo, on the other hand, was beyond disgusted. The gears in his head were turning especially fast and he came up with an excuse.

"That looks um… delicious." the Japanese lied. "But, did you leave the oven on?"

Richtofen raised a confused eyebrow before retracing his steps. Did he leave the oven on? He couldn't have. Was he so caught up in introducing his new recipe to these idiots that he would forget? Without a word, he walked back into the kitchen, giving his three roommates the chance they needed to quickly put their shoes on, grab the car keys and escape out the front door. While Takeo started up the car, the debate began over what to eat. Anything would do at this point.

"The oven's off!" Edward complained, walking back into the living room. "Now, who wants a…"

The sound of screeching tires reached his ears.

"Bite."

"I do." a small voice chimed, gaining the attention of the Nazi's blue eyes. Milz stood near the TV, fiddling with the strings on his red hoodie. "That smells yummy."