Rachel puffed out a breath and watched it drift away in a lazy plume of steam. Cold. Too damn cold. Because Alaska was cold. Who knew? She hugged herself tighter against the invading chill, fingers digging into her ribs through the plush fabric of her puffy jacket.

I hope Quinn remembered her parka, she thought and then stilled. She hadn't even thought about it - about checking to see what Quinn might have taken with her. Or what she might have left behind.

If she'd done it on purpose.

"Quinn," she whispered, blinking back the rising tide of tears.

Not that. Please, please not that.

Desperation grabbed her in a stranglehold. She choked and coughed, leaning into the nearest tree until she sucked in enough to keep from throwing up.

They didn't have time for this. For her to be uncertain and timid. Afraid. Quinn needed her to be tenacious, borderline crazy even. Something she'd been known and ridiculed for back Before.

Too bad she was having a really hard time finding that inner Berry fire at the moment.

She held onto the tree, worn out and exhausted and barely hanging on to the raggedy edge of her composure.

"Quinn!" She yelled, eyes closed against pain. Sorry, can't perform tonight, ripped my own throat out. "Quinn!"

"Rachel?"

Her head hit the tree she jerked so hard. The smack didn't matter nor did the lights flashing in her vision. That was definitely her name. For sure. One-hundred-percent.

She knew that voice, too.

Better than anyone.

It wasn't the wind or her mind playing tricks on her. Not this time. As weak and thready as it sounded - a shouted whisper - she heard it.

She fucking heard it.

"Quinn! Quinn, say it again. Say something again. I can't find you!" She shoved away from the tree and strained her ears. Every muscle in her body coiled, ready to leap into action and sprint through the forest to the source of that voice. "Again, Quinn!"

"I'm here!"

Thank GOD for musician's ears. She whipped around, trusted her near supernatural hearing, and took off. Her flashlight beam bounced all over the place and her pulse pounded in her neck as she tripped over a log and crashed to the ground only to scramble back to her feet and keep running. The sting in her hands and knees could wait. All of it - everything - could fucking wait.

Quinn, Quinn, Quinn.

There! A flash of blonde hair in the light. She tore through a bush, scrambled over another log, and gasped Quinn's name again and again. Heavy tears blurred her vision, clogged her throat, and kept her from screaming to the Heavens. To anyone who would listen.

I found her, I found her. Quinn. She's alive. She's alive! That idiot. My idiot. I'm going to kill her. I'm going to…

She couldn't slow down - too much momentum, too much adrenaline, too much of all of it. Instead she fell into Quinn at the base of a massive tree. Pin-pricks of feeling lit up her chilled flesh, and she was panting, crying, shivering, and she didn't care.

Rachel grabbed Quinn in a fierce hug, crushing her against her chest, and spewing pure gibberish to the top of her blonde hair. She held on, hands racing to touch every inch of her she could fumble for, checking for injuries, for breaks.

Bites.

Here, here, whole. She's whole.

"Oh my God, Quinn." She tipped backward and cupped Quinn's cheeks, thumbs rubbing at cold, cold skin. "You're okay. You're okay. I can't -"

"You came," Quinn said, blinking in the dim light of the flashlight laying beside them. "You're…"

"You scared me. I've never been so - what did you do?" Rachel sighed and slumped over, bumping their foreheads together. "I thought you - I don't even know. Are you hurt? What happened? Talk to me. Please, Q. Please, say anything."

"Sorry," Quinn whispered, a sheen of water glazing her big, beautiful eyes. "I'm sorry."

Rachel's throat seized once more. A whine snuck out between her teeth. "No, no I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to drive you out - to this, I didn't mean for this."

Quinn shook her head and grasped Rachel's wrists. "It's not your fault. I'm an idiot sometimes."

"You're my idiot," Rachel said with a sniffle. Quinn smiled, small and shy, shame and hope in her expression. With a shake of her head and huffed half-sob, half-laugh, Rachel leaned in and kissed her clammy forehead, pulled her closer to try and share some warmth, however minimal.

"I fucked up."

"Me too."

"Can we agree to be fucked up together and not do this again?" Rachel closed her eyes and felt the burn of an endless well of tears, silently praying that Quinn would understand.

Please.

"You're my kind of fucked up," Quinn croaked. "I'm done running. I promise, Rachel. No more running of any kind."

There was more. So much more to say, to mean. Things that needed to be yelled and whispered. Things said with tears and with laughter.

But it could wait. They had time.

And Quinn had just said the most beautiful thing she'd heard yet.

"Me, too. Me, too, I promise. No more running." Rachel kissed her forehead again, relieved to be able to. Quinn didn't even twitch in response. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Quinn touched her chin, trembling fingers hesitant and gentle. "No. I forgot how draining having a hysterical meltdown is. I passed out and then it was dark and too dangerous to try and get back. Too dangerous for you to come looking for me."

"Nothing will ever stop me from looking for you," Rachel said and set her jaw. "Nothing. I don't care how mad I am at you, or you are at me."

"Did you come alone?"

"Shit, no. Fuck, Chevy's probably freaking out." Rachel fumbled at her side and unclipped her walkie. "Chevy? Chevy, I've got her. I found her."

"Jesus Christ, give a man a heart-attack. Point the flashlight south, I'll find you and bring the others. Is she hurt?"

"No." She sighed, relief bathing her frazzled nerves in a welcome warmth. "We're going to have to stay here though. Can you round up the others?"

"Oh, you remembered us?" Luz snarked over the channel. "I don't need rounding; what am I, a sheep?"

Quinn chuckled weakly. Rachel ran her hand through Quinn's hair, pulling some tangles loose.

"More of a goat," Rachel said. "Please hurry."

"We'll be right there."

She dropped the walkie and pulled Quinn into another hug, settling against her, aching and shuddering.

"Rachel?"

"I'm glad you're okay. I'll be mad later, but right now all I care about is that you're okay."

Quinn shifted until they fit together more comfortably. Snuggled together like they were always meant to be like that. Like it wasn't new.

Maybe it wasn't.

"I found you," Rachel said.

Quinn could not stop crying. At least welling up, anyway. She didn't think she had any tears left to give. If she did she would have given them to her friends, her family. They crowded around her, asked repeatedly if she was alright.

She knew they were angry with her and right to be, but none of them said a word about it. Not Chevy, or Luz, CJ, or Alex.

Rachel.

Rachel who refused to let go of her at all. Some part of them always in contact as the others bustled around to erect a small camp. She kept an eye on Quinn throughout everything. From fire building to tent set-up. Sat right next to her. Held her hand, touched her hair, her arm; Rachel's fingers were always on her, always checking.

Quinn was drowning; it felt like her heart banging against her ribs, lungs too full of something.

Something she knew was love.

The most dangerous something in the world.

Zombies a close second.

I love you, she thought, staring in wonder at Rachel's profile. The angle of her jaw, the pout of her lips, the nose that Rachel had hated so much. Firelight cast wavering shadows on her strong features highlighting the height of her cheekbones and the length of her neck. Highlighting just how sharp and strong Rachel Berry was.

Then she turned and the same light flickered in Rachel's deep, dark brown eyes.

Quinn almost died. Her heart stuttered, beats smacking into each other, and her breath got caught somewhere between throat and lungs.

I'm so in love with you and I'm an idiot. How did it take me this long to realize?

Still, nobody said anything. Though Quinn did catch Luz smirking and raising an eyebrow at her. There would be plenty of jokes at her expense later. Quinn didn't care.

How could she when Rachel was looking at her like that? Looking at her with forgiveness and happiness and a spark of burning anger.

I don't deserve this. I don't. But GOD, if I'm that lucky I'll take it and cherish it always. She felt new and scrubbed clean, free for the first time in several dusty, blood-soaked years.

Chevy had to help her stand with Rachel holding on to her other elbow and hissing for him to be careful.

Quinn blushed, hotter than the fire she was sure, as her legs refused to cooperate. They'd long gone numb from the cold and the cramped position of sitting against a tree for hours.

"You know, Hollywood, if you wanted to go camping all you had to do was ask," Chevy said as the three of them took another agonizingly slow step. "You actors, always gotta be so dramatic. There's no Oscars out here. Besides Leo already got his for The Revenant. Too soon for a remake."

"I'll keep that in mind," Quinn said, smiling up at him. "Thanks for coming to the rescue."

"Don't thank me just yet. You haven't survived the night."

Rachel snorted and clutched harder at Quinn's elbow. "No one is dying tonight. Or tomorrow."

"Should I announce that as a royal decree to the rest of the camp?" Chevy grinned.

"I take it back. You utter a single Madame at me tonight and I'll smother you in your sleep."

No one cat-called as Quinn collapsed into a pup-tent and Rachel followed after her. She would have been grateful for that if she didn't think it had less to do with maturity levels and more to do with the gravity of the situation that led them there.

"Rachel." She licked at her chapped lips and glanced over.

Rachel shook her head and put a finger to her mouth. She zipped up the door and didn't say a word as she helped Quinn take off her boots.

Quinn squirmed underneath a nest of blankets and tried not to panic as Rachel removed her own boots and crawled in after her.

She expected that Rachel would face her, like always. They'd been sharing space for long enough that she knew Rachel's sleeping habits as well as her own. Instead, Rachel pressed up against her back, both arms folding around her.

Tiny Rachel Berry, the Big Spoon.

It couldn't be comfortable with the ground beneath them hard and Rachel's arm pinned beneath Quinn's ribs.

Her eyes pricked and she sucked in a harsh breath, flooded with the care in the gesture.

"Tell me why," Rachel whispered, long after Quinn thought they would sleep without talking.

"I had to." Quinn rolled her eyes to the top of the tent. Her breath hitched when Rachel squeezed her.

"That's not enough of an answer." Rachel's hand tightened into a fist against Quinn's bellybutton. "I thought you might have - I thought you ran out here to end it. Because I…"

Horror and self-loathing smacked her in the diaphragm. She hadn't paused long enough to think about anything like that, about what the others might think. Lost in her own tragedy she'd failed them even as she went to do something for them.

"No!" she said, voice guttural, wrecked at the thought of Rachel… "No, Rachel."

"Please, tell me why."

She heard the tears and wanted to turn over and wipe them away, to banish them forever, but Rachel's arm was holding on too fiercely and locking her in place.

It dawned on her that she did it so Quinn could talk, to ease the embarrassment.

No judgement here.

No lack of understanding.

You're safe with me.

Trust me.

"There are ghosts," she said, wheezing and broken. "I failed as a daughter. A mother. As a friend. I ran and I hid when the outbreak happened. I left them all behind and I keep seeing their faces. Maybe if I'd been stronger - braver - things would have been different."

Rachel cuddled closer, tucking her legs up behind Quinn's, and cradling her.

She didn't speak.

Quinn pressed on.

"I needed to - I had to face them. Apologize, beg for mercy, for peace and forgiveness. I didn't come out here to die, Rachel; I came out here so I could live. I had to say goodbye." She choked again, a weak stream of tears meandering down her cheeks and neck. "I know we've all lost, but I never said goodbye. My daughter is dead. Beth is gone and I didn't even try…"

She was too tired, too weak, to do it again. Her chest had already been cracked open; she'd spilled her guts to the forest and had nothing left.

So she let the tears slide, sniffled, and heaved out dry sobs.

"They'd want us to live," Rachel said around her own sniffles. "You're not alone. None of us ever will be. They're here, but we are, too. I'm here and you're here, and they'd want us to go on, Quinn. We're going to make it through this. Together."

"I'm sorry for being so - I've been a dick and I'm sorry, Rachel. Please, please forgive me."

Rachel set her lips against the back of Quinn's neck. Not quite a kiss, but a lingering press against her skin - a bare, ticklish brush. "I forgive you. Will you forgive me? I shouldn't have said what I did. I can't believe that I - I caused you pain on purpose and I feel like a monster for it. You don't have to, and I will accept that, but if you can?"

Quinn swallowed and swallowed again, her tongue thick and heavy in her mouth. "I forgive you."

I love you.

TBC...