Quinn winced around a mouthful of pine tea. Not from the heat of it, but the flavor. It was a bit of an acquired taste, and she hadn't acquired it yet. But the warm liquid was soothing on her scratchy throat, and it wasn't stale, iron-flavored water like she was used to. She sighed and took another sip, clutching the old mug with both hands.
"Hey."
She jumped, almost dropping the tea. "Jesus, Rach."
"Sorry! I'm sorry," Rachel said, holding her hands up. "Sorry."
"No, I -" Quinn laughed and set the mug down so she could rub at the back of her stiff neck. "We've been here long enough you think I'd have learned to calm down. Of course it's you."
"It would probably help if you hadn't woken up screaming in the middle of the night. And had actually gone back to sleep." Rachel's voice was hoarse, lower than Quinn had ever heard it. Neither of them had slept much, or well. "You want to talk about it?"
Quinn closed her eyes and let her head hang. The dream had changed, adapted to new unspoken fears. It was no longer just Beth crying alone as blood covered monsters crowded around her. Rachel had joined the cast, clutching Quinn's little girl and waving an empty pistol in a futile effort to scare them off. To defend, protect, save the day. She always shouted Quinn's name over the sound of the groaning dead and the empty gun clicking as she reflexively pulled the trigger, as though sheer hope could somehow produce an extra round. Just one round. One more second of life before it was ripped from them both. "No," she said, shakily. "No, I'm okay. You've got your own nightmares. I don't need to add to them."
"Quinn, it's okay. That's why - I mean, I'm here. I'm here for you to talk to, not just for someone to… distract you. I don't mind holding you, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that, we were talking before - on the ship we talked."
She thinks you're pulling away. You're scared. Open your mouth and say so. "I'm sorry. I've got a lot on my mind. All this quiet, being stationary. We're not fighting like we were. My brain caught up with me, that's all."
She looked over and saw Rachel chewing on the corner of her bottom lip, eyes locked on the floor. Her arms were wrapped around herself. Pensive Rachel, a callback to high school that made Quinn's chest ache. "I'm here, Quinn. I'm with you. Going through the same things. If you need to talk or want to talk… nothing's changed or going to change about that."
"I'm not going anywhere, Rach. I just need to process on my own for a bit," Quinn said. Dirty coward. "I appreciate you, you know. Staying up with me. Talking me down. All of it."
She did the same thing without thinking about it. Rachel woke up crying almost as often as she did. Silent tears that gave way to heaving sobs bordering on hyperventilation when Quinn touched her. They reacted to each other, with each other, in similar ways. Whispering soothing words, assuring the other that it was okay now, they were safe. Hands stroked hair and rubbed circles on shaking shoulders. Small kisses were dropped with utmost care on foreheads, temples, cheeks. Tears were brushed away.
Quinn didn't know when that had started to hurt, too. Or why. But she had a plan. If she couldn't speak the things she was feeling, she'd have to settle with a showing. So she smiled, tightly, to herself and then pushed away from the kitchen counter. She approached Rachel carefully, and very gently slid her hands around Rachel's elbows. Rachel didn't protest, though she flinched, and Quinn took that as an okay. She pulled until Rachel leaned into her.
"I know I'm not being the easiest person in the world to be around," she said to the top of Rachel's head. "Hang in there with me. Please?"
"You don't have to say please. You don't even have to ask. I worry about everyone, but I really worry about you. You've been... reckless."
More guilt, Quinn swallowed it down. "It's all new again. We'll figure it out. Together."
Rachel inhaled deeply once, and then pulled away. She nodded and then sighed. "It's really early. Were you and Chevy still going out?"
"That's the plan," Quinn said.
"You'll be back before it's dark?" Finally Rachel's glare returned, a stern expression instead of a crestfallen, spooked, or exhausted one. Warrior Broadway had come back.
"Yes, Broadway. Of course we will. And I'll have my walkie on me in case of trouble."
"I don't know why you two think you need to do this. We have plenty of meat; you don't need to hunt every day." Rachel huffed and tousled her hair. "We can't store it, you both know that. Anything you bring back will go to waste."
"We're not going to get meat, or trophies. We're just scouting, just off on a mission. Chevy calls it recon: getting to know the area, the best hunting spots. It's nothing."
Rachel looked so very annoyed, but she rolled her eyes and waved a hand. "Go on then. I want radio check-ins at regular intervals. One of you better take a rifle, not just a bow. I don't care how proficient you both think you are with them."
"Yes, ma'am, Madam Mayor," Quinn said and finished it off with her best charming smile. With a split second of hesitation she leaned in a kissed Rachel's cheek. "We'll be good."
Hours later and Quinn's back hurt, her feet felt heavy. The rifle slung across her arms wasn't helping much. But she managed a smile for Chevy when he tripped on an exposed tree root. "Walk much?"
"Yeah, laugh it up. See if I help you when you faceplant in bear shit," he said, gruffly. He grinned at her, swiping at the sweat on his forehead, and then sat down. "Break time."
"Like a rock, Chevy?" She rolled her eyes and plopped down beside him, hiding a wince as her spine announced its displeasure. "You're getting old."
"It's this place," Chevy said, rolling his neck with a grimace. "You know, in combat with adrenaline going there's no time to feel the hurts. It's the downtime that kills you."
Downtime. Quinn paused in reaching for her canteen. Is that where they were? In downtime? A break before it all went to shit again? Her hands trembled as she raised her canteen. It didn't feel like downtime. Not a lull like they'd been in on the helicopter on their way to the Skylark. This felt more permanent, Limbo-like. What, exactly, was a person supposed to do in Limbo other than go crazy?
She swallowed a gulp of water with a grimace. Before she had loved silence, stillness. It gave her time to collect her thoughts, read a book. Alone time was a precious gift, especially for someone in the public eye. Now, without the constant battle to survive, without gunfire and traveling, her free-time felt heavy. Every time she paused it caught up with her. All the loss, the horror, the weight of everything that had gone wrong in her world. She heard screaming in her head when she closed her eyes.
"Downtime," she said. "When you were in Iraq and Afghanistan, what did you do with your downtime?"
Chevy flopped over onto his back, straw from his battered camelback hanging from the side of his lips. "Worked out. Played video games. Worked out some more."
"You stayed busy."
"Yeah, you go stir crazy sitting in your bunk waiting for action. Combat stress never fades. You're always waiting to go again. If you don't get rid of that energy it does things to your head."
She nodded and screwed the lid back on her canteen. "I get that."
"I bet you do." He squinted at her. "Is that what's going on with you? Got a Hulk-out building up?"
"Maybe," she said with a shrug. "I don't feel angry right now, but when I'm sitting still… I'm so angry, Chevy. My body aches."
"Well we're doing something right now." He gestured around at the forest. "Recon is still action. You've got situational awareness now like any soldier. You can't turn it off and it's easier to use it appropriately, instead of sitting in a cabin at the end of the world using it on Rachel."
"Hyper awareness." She shuddered. Heightened senses. Every movement drew her eyes, every sound made her flinch, fingers twitching around an imaginary trigger. In silence her skin crawled, hair standing up, body anticipating the worst. "I'll never be able to turn it off?"
"Maybe someday," Chevy said, gently. "We're all still coping. Some better than others."
"An island full of people with PTSD," she replied with a snort. "If that's not a recipe for disaster… oh wait, we already had our disaster, didn't we."
He sat back up, brushing dirt and forest bits off his shirt. "It's not as bad as it could be, Hollywood. Just promise me one thing. If you start feeling the cabin fever, like you're going to go green, you come find me, okay? We'll find something to do. You've got to release that tension."
And I'm a better target than Rachel she finished for him. "I wouldn't hurt her."
His expression softened, just a bit. "I know. I'm just saying. You two are a pressure cooker of tension without any help from the rest of this shit-storm."
She glared at him. "Watch it."
"Hey, call it like I see it. If I'm being honest, and a good battle buddy is always honest, if you two would deal with that it'd make the rest of this easier."
"I have things to figure out with myself," she said tersely and stood back up. "You're a good battle buddy, buddy, but stay out of that please. If I want to talk about it I'll bring it up."
He held up his hands. "Alright, cool. You want to hunt some more or you ready to go back?"
She shielded her eyes and scanned the treetops for the sun. If they started back they'd make it to town before the sun set. "Let's go a little further."
"You sure you want to do this? I'm all for a bit of danger to keep my skills sharp, but this is a pretty big bite to take on." He stood up as well, groaning as he stretched.
"I'm doing it. I have to." I have to show her.
He sighed and pulled his mini-binoculars out of his cargo pocket. "I've got our next point. But we're turning around after we reach it. I don't want to be tripping through these woods in the dark. Not without NVG's."
"Afraid of the dark, big man? Night vision goggles are a crutch," she said and gestured for him to lead on.
"Afraid of the dark? No. Afraid of the hungry things that patrol in the dark? Hell yes. I like to keep the sexy man-flesh on my bones, thank you."
She snorted and shoved him as he passed her. "Whatever. Hurry up."
Rachel paced the creaking porch. She didn't pause to investigate the loose boards anymore. There wasn't time. The sun had continued to set, despite her desperate wishes for it to wait just a little longer. She was out of time. They were out of time.
No time.
She reached the warped railing on one side, pivoted, and stalked once again for the other end. Worry turned to anger, turned back into worry, and around to terrified fury again. A last glimmer of light remained as the soft grey of twilight fell over the town. She could still see the edge of the woods, the lengthening shadows cast from the trees.
But no sign of Quinn, or Chevy. They hadn't made radio contact all afternoon. She didn't need a bullet-point list to tell her that wasn't a good sign.
Minutes had turned into agonizing hours, their absence more and more noticeable with each tick of Rachel's internal clock. Time ran out for Chevy and Quinn to come back safely, but it increased for her darkening thoughts.
Images plagued her as more what-if's popped up.
What if they got lost?
What if one of them is hurt?
What if I never see Quinn again?
What if she's broken and bleeding, and I'm not there?
What if only one comes back?
What if it's not Quinn?
Rachel stopped, breathing hard through her nose, and gripped the railing. It swayed under her weight and the pressure from her hands. "I swear to God…" she muttered, unable to finish any sort of threat. Saliva turned hot in her throat, clogging, cloying, drying up before she could spit.
The radio perched on her hip crackled to life and she grabbed it up without bothering to spend the second to recognize the voice. "Quinn?"
"Uh, no," Luz said. "I asked if you'd heard anything. Guess that answers that question."
She rubbed at her forehead with her free hand, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Luz, I swear, I'll let you know the second I see them."
"Right. Want me to come over there and help you kick their asses?"
"No," Rachel said, glaring at the trees once more. "I'll handle them myself."
"Don't do too much damage, Mamacita. Becca asked for Q; I'm sure she'd prefer to see her hero undamaged."
"Fine," she snapped and slapped the walkie back to her hip. Luz understood the finality of the tone enough not to respond. At least someone around here has the intelligence to pay attention.
Her feet hurt, her back ached, and she wanted nothing more than to sit down. Or flop face down on their lumpy mattress and pass out. Between working on buildings all morning and then worrying all afternoon she needed a break. The break that getting to the godforsaken island was supposed to offer. No more screaming, no more dying, no more scratching and biting for the shreds of life they had left. No more worrying.
She snorted and backed up to lean against the side of the cabin, giving her feet some relief. Arms crossed over her chest she stared at the forest.
"Rachel?"
"What!" She whirled around, reaching for Mick.
CJ smiled sheepishly and waved. "Hi. I thought I'd come wait with you, in case."
In case. Rachel bit back a snarl and gestured at her porch. "In case they need a doctor when I'm through with them?"
With a wince and a short nod CJ took a seat on the steps. "I'll go with that."
Now that there was a person in range, someone she couldn't ignore, the trapped feeling returned tenfold. It felt real again, far too real with a doctor waiting to pounce upon patients. She resumed her pacing, hands scrubbing at her face, scraping through her hair. "Of all the reckless, stupid stunts. I can't believe them."
"It's a lot of forest," CJ said, looking down at her feet. "They probably didn't know they'd gone too far until it was too late."
"Chevy and Quinn?" Rachel snorted again, palms slapping down against her thighs. "They're supposed to be the careful ones. The tacticians. The ones who don't get lost in the woods."
"Well, Chevy is a bit of an overgrown manchild. And Quinn - we call her Hollywood, for God's sake. It's not as if she's had military training."
"Oh, gee, that makes me feel so much better!" Rachel ground her teeth and levelled CJ with a glare when dark eyes dared to look up at her. "Thanks a lot. I'm so at ease now."
CJ held her hands up. "I am just saying we don't know what happened, but I'm sure there's a valid reason for their tardiness."
"Tardiness?" She shrieked and punched a support beam. "They're not late for a fucking class! They disappeared in the woods."
"Rachel, I didn't mean…"
Two shapes materialized out of the rapidly darkening woods, more and more detail visible as they traipsed forward.
"I'm going to fucking kill them," Rachel said, seething.
"Let's not do anything hasty." CJ stood, hands reaching to placate.
Rachel dodged them and stalked toward the two idiots. "What part of be back before nightfall didn't translate?" she snapped.
Chevy slowed to a stop, scratched his cheek and shot a glance at Quinn. He didn't seem to know what to do besides fidget and examine the toe of his boots.
Quinn looked up at the sky. "There's still light."
"Really? Your response is to be a smartass?" Rachel had to take a breath and work to keep from stomping a foot. "How fucking childish and irresponsible are you? I give you an order, I expect you to be grown up enough to follow it!"
She realized her mistake as soon as she said it. Something flickered in Quinn's expression and then Rachel got to watch the walls come up, cutting her off with swift devastation. Her stomach clenched and she opened her mouth to say something else, anything to fix it.
Too late.
Quinn's lip curled in a sneer. "Forgive me. I wasn't aware that I'm incapable of making my own decisions. And I thought you were making a request, not commanding. As if that should matter at all. We aren't in the fucking desert. You're not in charge of me. And also, fuck you, Rachel."
CJ took Chevy by the arm and led him away, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder.
Rachel crossed her arms, glaring daggers right back at Quinn. Hot, sweet anger rose up again, evaporating every ounce of worry left. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Quinn put her hands on her hips. All she needed was a cheerleading uniform in McKinley red and they could have gone back in time. "I'm not sorry. I'm a grown woman who survived the zombie-fucking-apocalypse and I don't need you to boss me around. Don't forget who saved who."
"I don't need you, either." Rachel snarled right back, fists clenched against her aching ribs. "But you have responsibilities here, and like it or not I'm in charge. When I suggest you be back by dark I expect you to be here and not at the last second."
"Why don't you go ahead and fall off that high horse of yours. Ponies are really more your speed."
"You know what? I don't care, Quinn. Whatever. Be mad. Do whatever you want. You're right, I can't stop you." Rachel nodded with a frown. She went for the jugular, anger shooting the words off her tongue before she could stop to consider them. "But maybe you should think about the little girl that adores you before you go off on some idiot adventure. Don't fail her too."
Quinn stiffened and Rachel heard Chevy groan and CJ's quiet gasp. She might as well have slapped Quinn. Much like Quinn had on Prom night.
What goes around…
She prepared herself for the burn of Quinn's vicious words, knowing full well how capable Quinn was at gutting someone verbally.
"I didn't ask to be stuck at the end of the world with you," Quinn said, her quiet voice quavering. "I didn't ask for any of it. Good luck with your demons, Berry."
She shouldered past Rachel, who couldn't turn around to watch her go. Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them back. There was nothing left to say now and her anger bled her dry, leaving nothing behind.
"Good job," Chevy grumbled as he, too, walked away.
CJ remained. Rachel felt her presence, her eyes burning holes in the side of Rachel's head.
"Not now, CJ," she said, rubbing at her forehead. "I'll deal with it later."
"If you get the chance," CJ said. She left, too, leaving Rachel standing at the edge of the forest free to cry or not.
Meanwhile the hole in her heart got bigger.
TBC...