The world could end and it would feel no worse than this...

[shotofdumbidea]

[Forward-dated to the end of the Rift Tales plot...]

When Georgia woke up this morning, all the puppies she hadn't managed to give away had thankfully vanished - except for one, which she has a sneaking suspicion might be the very first one that woke her up when this all started a week ago.

She knows simply shoving it out the door won't work. She

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[badplanchaser]

Shaun doesn't have the best luck these days. So it's not too surprising when he crashes George's bike on the way to Dr. Abbey's new lab, or when he's surrounded by zombies. And when his kevlar rips and one of the bastards sinks its teeth into his arm... well, okay, that's a little more surprising but not entirely unexpected.

The van comes screeching into sight, back towards him, and Shaun groans softly. "I told you not to come back!"

"Not in so many words, you didn't," Mahir snaps over his headset, "and if you think we're leaving you without a test, you're an arsehole. Now down!"

Mahir's command is sharp enough that Shaun drops to the pavement instantly. Only instead of hitting the ground as he expects, there's a strange, sinking feeling in his stomach, and a twist in the world, and instead of hitting the pavement of the highway, he falls an extra four or five feet, hits the grass of the park with a thud, and rolls a couple of times, ending up on his back, staring up at the sky, trying to catch his breath.

A few feet away, a puppy starts yipping at him, but Shaun is too winded and startled to react just yet.

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Georgia jumps a little at the thud on the grass behind her, and takes several steps forward as she spins around to put a little distance between herself and whatever just fell from the sky or through the Rift or whatever. It's instinct, automatic and unthinking, especially here in the park where her brain keeps translating the surroundings to "in the field" - she's been expecting a pack of zombies to try sneaking up on her since she hit the grass, honestly, and her hand's on the grip of her gun where it's shoved into the back of her pants by the time she finishes turning around.

She doesn't pull it. Her eyes go wide behind her sunglasses as she sees who just landed on the grass, like the universe decided to drop him into her lap as an apology for the past couple weeks. Or months. The puppy's yapping is drilling into her temples, making her headache ratchet up another level or two on the pain scale, and she doesn't care.

"Shaun?" Any other time, she'd notice the blood on his arm. Just now, she's too startled and relieved to see him, and she lunges toward him almost before she's finished speaking.

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Shaun's brain is a bit muddled from the sudden shift in location plus the stress he's been under and the fact that his brain is full of the fact that he's bleeding, that he was bitten, so he doesn't register the voice as George's initially. He does register both "voice" and "familiar voice", though, which, when he realises that the owner of said voice is moving towards him, gets him on his feet and moving away as quickly as he can move.

"I'm bleeding!" he shouts as he backpedals. "Don't touch me, I'm--"

And then he registers the voice, and the woman standing in front of him, and the fact that he can still hear the George in his head cursing quietly and quite creatively. "Georgia?"

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Georgia skids to a halt at the word 'bleeding'. That's instinct too, drilled into her since she was old enough to understand - even if it's her brother, and she's been missing him like hell since she got here, and all she wants to do is hug him just to reassure herself he's really here.

"Yes, Georgia, you idiot," she snaps, like she didn't just ask his name in almost exactly that tone. With fear comes insults, and Shaun knows better than anyone not to take it personally.

She swallows hard, eyes flicking over him - it's not hard to spot the blood, though she can't see the wound clearly. Fuck. This can't be happening. "Show me."

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Shaun just stares at her for a moment, like his heart's going to break, like this is the worst thing that could've happened in an already awful day. And it's true - this is not what he wants to show his apparently-living sister, in this strange place that is not the highway he was on a second ago.

He's got questions, but this sort of thing kind of takes precedence. He can ask questions when she's got a gun on him. He turns, tugging his sleeve down, so that she can see the bite on his arm.

"Mind if I ask where the hell we are?" he asks hoarsely. He'd really like to freak out right now, but that wouldn't help anything and might get him shot quicker than strictly necessary.

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Georgia's jaw tightens when she gets a good look at his arm. There's no mistaking that for anything but a bite. A part of her is dully surprised she's still on her feet - it feels like the ground's spinning out from underneath her. It takes real effort to tear her eyes away from the bite and focus on Shaun's face.

"Chicago," she says after a moment. Her voice sounds distant to her own ears. The still barking dog, though, is grating on her nerves, and it's all she can do not to pull her gun and shoot it now.

She whirls on it, jaw still clenched so tight it hurts. "Shut up!" Something in her tone or expression makes the puppy cringe and fall silent, at least for the moment. Georgia sighs softly and turns back toward Shaun.

"It's... a long story," she says heavily. One she probably won't have the time to tell. "How long ago were you bitten?"

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"You'll have to tell me about it sometime." Yeah, he's trying to play it light, but this... this is beyond him right now. This is George, apparently alive, in front of him, and here he is literally dead on his feet. "Um, a minute. Maybe less. They came up off the road, I lost control of the bike..."

Deep breaths. He tries to calm himself down so that his heart will stop pumping so hard. Every second he can give himself is a second more George has with him. Every second is one she'll treasure even as they rip her heart to shreds.

He knows from experience.

"You need to get a gun on me, Georgia," he says quietly, his eyes locked on her face. He just wants to gather her up in his arms and never let go. He doesn't move. "With the adrenaline and all, without the serum in the van, it's probably not going to take long."

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Georgia never thought this part would be hard. Awful, painful, the last thing she ever wanted to do, sure, but she always knew they'd come to this moment one way or another. She thought she was as prepared as anyone could be. But every part of her wants to deny this is even happening, wants to insist this is some kind of mistake and...

Instinct kicks in where conscious thought refuses to act. She reaches for her gun again, and pulls it while she's still staring at Shaun like she's watching her world fall apart in front of her. For all practical intents and purposes, she is.

She doesn't manage to actually point the gun at him, though, keeping it low and aimed at the ground. His pupils look fine from where she's standing. He's still coherent, joking... They have a little time. Not much, not ever enough, but a little.

"I can't..." She takes a breath. "Part of the long story that you're just going to have to take my word for is that a lot of people around here won't understand if they notice me actually pointing a gun at you. So I'm not going to until... until I don't have another choice."

A pause, and then she asks quietly, "I guess you haven't had time to take a blood test, huh? Just to be sure?" As if there's even the slightest chance he's not infected. They both know the reality here, but even Georgia can't help but grasp at every last shred of hope when it's Shaun standing there bleeding.

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Shaun's world is falling apart, too, though George doesn't realise how much. She's right there, breathing and alive somehow, and he won't be able to hug her before he dies.

The universe must really hate him.

He laughs shakily, and with absolutely no humor, and shakes his head. "Mahir and Becks turned the damn van around to rescue me so we could, after I told them not to, but..." he shakes his head. "I hit the ground so Mahir could clear the road and ended up here."

And yes, George, Mahir is in the van. Ponder that one for a while.

[shotofdumbidea]

Georgia winces, her gaze wandering back to the bite despite herself. She laughs, too high and sharp, and shakes her head. "God, you're even wearing body armor. All those times I had to blackmail you into it... Wish I'd known all I had to do to make you wear it was fall off the face of the earth."

Pretending this is any other day, just something to tease each other about isn't working. The joke comes out sounding bleak and strangled, like she'd be crying if she could. She gives up and says quietly, with a shaky, sad smile, "I missed you."

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She doesn't know.

That's the one thought that's ringing in Shaun's head, echoed by George's voice in the back of his head warning him to be careful what he says because she doesn't know what happened, doesn't realise what he's been through, and this is not the time to enlighten her.

"I missed you, too," Shaun says, trying not to choke on the words. It's taking every ounce of willpower in him not to throw his arms around her regardless of the blood and the amplification that's happening in him right now.

But he won't. Because if she's alive, even if it's somehow from before everything really went to hell, he's not going to jeopardize that.

"Maybe we should get somewhere... more secure?" And easier to clean of blood after she has to put a bullet in him.

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Georgia hesitates before answering, running through calculations in her head. This kind of math, at least, hardly requires any conscious thought - they can thank Mom for drilling that through their heads. Without the emergency med kit, though, without any quick transportation and, most importantly, in a pre-Rising city...

"I don't know. It's..."

She'd have to put the gun away. Someone's going to call the police if she doesn't. Maybe they ought to call the police and Torchwood and the fucking CDC anyway, but... no. She's not letting anyone steal a single second of her brother from her, and she will deal with this on her own.

"It's a short walk, but it's through the city. How're you feeling?"

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Shaun takes a deep breath and assesses how he's feeling. "Pretty normal, still," he says. "Possibly reduced pain response, I'm not really feeling the bite like I should be, but that could be the adrenaline."

He feels like he's trying to think through molasses. Your cognitive functions are suffering, George prompts gently from the back of his mind. "Um, slight loss of cognitive functions. Not much, though." George is too complex a figment of his imagination for him to be suffering much cognitive decay. "I should be okay for a short walk."

[shotofdumbidea]

"Okay."

Georgia takes a breath, holds it for a second, and lets it out slowly. She's- Well, no, she's not okay. But she's holding it together, for Shaun, and she will until this is over.

She hesitates again, gun wavering, and then clicks the safety back on and shoves it back into her waistband at the small of her back. She really needs to get herself an actual holster.

"You lead the way," she says, and nods in the direction of the Kashtta. "That way. I'll tell you when to turn. People around here are idiots, so you'll have to keep an eye out to make sure no one bumps into you. And... keep talking to me, okay?"

When the virus starts to really take hold, she'll know as long as he's talking to her. And... she just needs to hear his voice. As much as she can, for as long as she can. This is going to be her last chance, after all.

[badplanchaser]

"Right." Shaun takes a deep breath and starts walking, keeping an eye out for the passers by. Thankfully, he looks like hell and not exactly safe (the scruff and the kevlar'll do that) so he gets a pretty wide berth.

"So we went to Maggie's for a while. Long story, not really the best time, but she is certifiably insane. And her freaking dogs. It's like this little pack, and she's their leader. But she's more aware of security stuff than..." No, now is not the time to mention Buffy. "She's not a bad cook, either. Made us pot pies and stuff. Becks has been trying to get Alaric ready for his field tests. I don't know if he's ready for them, but he's really putting forth the effort."

It's like the sanitised version of what's been going on. No conspiracies, no CDC drama, no deaths or setups or firebombings or clones. He's not going to burden her with all of that, especially when he doesn't have enough time to explain it all.

"I've been trying to do admin stuff with you gone." As if she'd just disappeared and they had to fill a gap temporarily. "I'm not very good at it. Thank god for Mahir, you did good hiring him. Also, do I always get that many marriage proposals? 'Cause damn. I've just been deleting them, I don't know what else to do with them. I figure any response is going to make it worse."

[shotofdumbidea]

Georgia starts walking behind him, hanging slightly to one side rather than directly behind so if he just turns his head, he'll be able to see her. The puppy follows, but Georgia ignores it. As long as it's quiet, she doesn't care what it does right now.

She manages a short laugh at the comment about marriage proposals. "Yeah, there's always that many. Sometimes I'd respond to them, when I was really bored, but... yeah, it's best that you didn't. You'd never manage to be mean enough to scare them off. Hang a left here."