FIC: Contact
Series: No Day But Today
Title: Contact
Pair: Klaine and background others
Summary: Outsiders find the boat city. The citizens of the Western Wave prepare for contact.
AN: Attempting to finish up this last arc. Wish me luck, and I hope you enjoy.
“Did y’see that?”
“What are you goin’ on about? There’s nothing there, Trey. There never is. These sweeps are a bleedin’ waste of our time an’ resource, if you ask me.”
Trey looked again at the instruments and prepared to turn their aircraft around.
“Are you really doing this?” Jason asked.
“We’ve got the gas. It won’t take a moment.”
Jason kept an eye on the screen as they made their second pass. “What the hell is that? There’s not supposed to be any island there?”
“Maybe our coordinates are off.”
“No, I don’t think so. Good god. We should get the boys back here with some torpedos. An island crawling with infected that far out? They could spread it through Asia next. Can you imagine?
“There’s not been an outbreak in years.”
“Yeah, but there are areas over there... Like in Africa. You don’t want it to be spreading in areas that don’t have the resources to vaccinate and anyplace that’s so densely populated...”
“Everyone should be vaccinated by now...”
“Yeah. I believe that. And Britain is bustling and lively, with the light and joy of the angels and the laughter of children-”
“Oh, belt up.”
Trey flicked on the radio. “Oy, Nadie. We’ve found somethin’ out here. Gonna have another go at it, get a little closer. Over.”
“I don’t think we should. How low to we want to get? Remember how Tommy and the boys were done over, when they dipped down in the middle of Canada? Brains spilled outta their fucking ears!”
“That was years back. Not getting that close, anyways.” Trey shook his head and prepared for another pass.
“You say you found somethin’? What something? Over,” Nadie’s flat nasal voice said out of the radio.
“Looks like an island, or something close. Over.”
“Islands ain’t all that special, kid. Over,” Nadie drawled.
“Islands where they don’t belong are, you sweet thang,” Trey replied. “Give us a moment.”
Jason turned to the window as Trey maneuvered the aircraft. The two of them were silent as they came by with a closer sweep.
“That’s not an island, mate,” Jason muttered.
“No. But what-”
“Those are boats. No way. No way anyone could have...”
“Boats pulled up aside one another, all together?”
“No. Boats... Boat connected. They’re built together, all kinds. So many. And platforms, and bridges. Trey, this is a city. This is a place where people live... or lived.”
“Can’t believe it.” Trey shook his head. “This whole area... Can’t imagine people who still breathe out this way.”
“That must’ve taken them a long time. Not a poor idea at all, going this far out. Get away from the infected, you think?”
“Maybe. Maybe it’s just an artifact, now. Maybe the infected took them over there, too. Could you see the people?”
“I saw something moving around down there.”
“Well, we’ve got our readings. Let’s head back.”
“I’d love to talk to them... What it must’ve been like out here. Y’think they send a troup for a visit? Or... just bomb them?”
“Inland, maybe. Here? Easy enough for the hirer ups to figure what’s down there. The inland’s still such a bloody fucking mess.” Trey shook his head. “‘Oy, Nadie. Heading back. Over.”
“What did you find? Over.”
“You’re not gonna believe it.”
***
Kurt leaned forward, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. This wasn’t something he wanted to miss, even if his right eye was now failing him. Behind him, Blaine appeared, rubbing his stubbly chin against Kurt’s shoulder and hugging him tightly, and grinning when Kurt turned to give him a smile.
In front of them, Pippa spun in a circle, then moved onto her toe for a proper twirl. She was so beautiful when she danced. Blaine grabbed Kurt’s hand and pulled him towards the stairs. Kurt followed, running behind him and laughing freely.
“Daddieeee!” Pippa squealed.
Blaine leapt down the last few stairs to the platform where she’d been dancing in front of Van and the boys and swept her into his arms.
“Noo! No, no. I’m, I’m dancing, okay?”
“Can daddy dance with you?”
Pippa covered her mouth with her fingers shyly, then looked over at Kurt.
“Let’s dance for your papa, huh?”
“Yes!”
Kurt leaned back and allowed himself a big smile. “Dance for me, baby girl!”
Blaine set her down and started to sing, “Before you met me, I was all right, but things were kinda heavy. You brought me to life.”
He danced slowly beside her, and she mimicked his movements readily, giggling and smiling at Kurt.
“And now every February, you’ll be my Valentine-” Blaine made a heart with his fingers and looked down at Pippa as she, a beat later, did the same. “-Valentine!”
“Valentine!” she squealed.
Kurt bowed his head for a moment, shaking in laughter as his husband and daughter danced for him in the fading light of the day. Blaine guided her through the moves, one by one, and their precious little girl to her credit kept up fairly well. Blaine was training her in a variety of ways already, just in case. For flexibility, creativity, and stamina. When she was ready, they’d teach her to fight, but for now, the way she moved was joyful.
No matter what happened, she would live her life having known joy. Even if it was taken from her too soon.
Kurt swallowed and wiped his eyes, trying to pretend that wasn’t what he was doing. Then a sound above caught his attention, and he looked up. A frown slowly etched itself deep into his brow.
As if taking their cue from him, Blaine and Pippa looked up as well, followed by Van and the twins, Rafe, and several others who were out and about. The city looked up, and the air thickened with anxiety.
“Wazzat, daddy?” Pippa asked, clinging to Blaine’s leg. He picked her up again and held her close to him.
“A jet,” Kurt said. “It’s a jet.” He turned to Blaine, meeting his wide eyes with a stern glance.
Van pulled her boys close to her and hurried over to them. “What are they doing here?”
“Get everyone inside,” Kurt ordered. He touched Van’s shoulder then swept over to Blaine and Pippa, putting his arms around them. “Now.”
“Everyone get inside!” Blaine yelled.
***
“If they bomb us, we won’t have a chance!”
“No place is secure from everything. We haven’t had to worry about people threatening us at home for years.”
“Fine, fine, but what do we do?”
“Everyone should just try to stay calm,” Blaine said firmly. It was time for him to play the ‘First Lady,’ no matter how unsettled his insides were. “We have to keep our heads and play this smart. It’s what’s kept us going long past everyone else.”
The motors they’d put on the sides of the city to move it were experimental, and they’d only used them once to move out of the way of a bad storm. So the people had collected in the emergency ship, which was unconnected from the rest of the city and therefore able to sail, if they absolutely needed to.
It was crowded, and people were frightened. This place that they’d put together with their bare hands had been their home longer than anywhere else. Children had been born here, lives been created, families woven together.
“But shouldn’t we just get out of here?” Finn asked. He kept his voice even for the group, and to keep from alarming the children, but his eyes showed that he was panicking, just a little. “We could get further away-”
“Hon, that won’t do us any good. Not if they have planes,” Van said. She had her youngest baby Burt in her arms, and the twins Chris and Noah huddled around her legs.
Finn dropped down and put his big arms around the boys. “Don’t listen to mommy. She’s mean.”
She met his eye and bounced Burt on her hip.
Blaine put his hands on his hips, then turned to Pippa, who had somehow, in spite of everything, fallen hopelessly asleep when he’d put her down in a cot that night. It seemed ridiculous, how calm she was. Finn’s boys, Doctor Ariel Friel’s little girl, and two other toddlers born in an unplanned baby “boom” a few years ago had been up crying from the rush and disruption. Pippa seemed the least scared of anyone there, and that in turn seemed to keep most of the adults from succumbing to terror.
The doors opened up, and Kurt strolled inside, flanked by Santana and Andre. Tall, lean, strong, Kurt was still not the most obviously physically imposing of them, but at twenty years old, if an enemy looked closely enough, there was no question who was the leader here, who to keep far from if you valued your life. The years, additional injuries, and lack of advanced medical treatment had caused Kurt’s bad eye to worsen, but he’d learned to adjust. They all had. And Blaine felt safer with Kurt there. He knew most of their number did.
Blaine’s heart pounded in anticipation. Kurt held his hands up. His lips were pressed into a flat line. The people quieted and drew closer. Blaine lifted Pippa into his arms and let the girl rest sleepily against his chest.
“Our scouts have gone out on the speedboats and haven’t yet found any planes within a reasonable radius. Andre has informed me that the kind of jets we’re seeing are short range, so we expect to hear back from Mike and the Runners, soon. But we do not believe this is an attack from our neighbors from the south, at least.” Kurt adjusted his glasses on his nose and squinted at his people, who were listening eagerly. “When we get more information, we will decide the best course of action. It’s unlikely that we could move our people out quickly enough to avoid any conflict or making them more of a target. For now I’m asking you to stick close to one another and be prepared for action.”
“Could it be the Wastelanders?” Ariel lifted her girl from the floor and leaned back against the wall.
“We haven’t heard from them in a long time,” Burt said. “Not since they came out here Kurt.”
Kurt pursed his lips and shook his head. “And I made sure before I left that they no longer have leadership. They barely have anyone left, actually, and definitely no more serious ammunitions. That place was on fire, last I saw it. The level of tech and organization these people have is far beyond what the Wastelanders had on a good day. They had a nice reign, but they’re over.”
“Any idiot could get ahold of a plane,” Forest replied.
Blaine raised a brow. The man was voicing the issue just so that Kurt could knock the idea down. He often did so in meetings, acting with Kurt to bounce ideas around and come to the best plan.
Kurt tilted his head to the side. “Not any idiot could fly it like that. They circled around and checked our city out, several times. These are professional pilots, and they were getting a good look at us. They might be from pretty far away.”
“None of ‘em got close enough for me to really figure who they were,” Andre said with frustration. “Couldn’t see any markings. But they were military.”
“Well.” Santana walked over to Tianna and took her hand, gently. “Either they don’t have any weapons on that one and they went for reinforcements, or...?”
“Or they’re not hostile,” Tianna suggested. Santana squeezed her hand and drew her fingers gently through the short silky black bangs escaping the tiny pigtails on either side of Ti’s head.
Blaine watched them intently. It had taken Santana years to get to the point where she wanted more intimate company with another human being. Of course, this would happen right as they were drifting towards each other. Of course, this would happen now.
But god, why now? Why ever? Couldn’t they just live out their lives here in relative peace?
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up for peaceful people,” Blaine said. “But we should be wary of shooting first, as well.”
“Don’t want ‘em to get the wrong idea,” Forest agreed.
“Or the right one,” Saffire added.
Blaine reached out and touched her arm. The girl gave him a little smile.
“Best to keep them guessing, but I would also like to just have a meeting with them, if they’re willing.” Kurt crossed into the space in the middle of the room, put his hands on his hips, and looked down. There was a crease deep in his brow.
“So I’m on?” Cooper asked. “What part am I playing this time?”
Kurt’s voice deepened and issued the order without reservation: “You’re not.”
The silence grew.
“What do you mean he’s not?” Santana asked.
“I mean-”
“We’re not losing you now,” Santana argued.
“I don’t plan to get lost. My last adventure away from the Western Wave was more than enough for me. I’m gettin’ to be a homebody in my old age,” he joked in a dry tone. Then he lifted his head. “But if they want to meet with us, I need to see what’s in their eyes.”
“As if you can see anything anyway,” Santana muttered. Tianna moved closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders.
“I can do it, bossman,” Cooper said. “Just let me go and come back, like we always have. You can hide somewhere, and ‘see what’s in their eyes’ from a safe distance.”
“Kurt, please,” Blaine whispered. No one heard him, but he knew Kurt was aware of him and their child. He always would be.
Kurt’s chin lifted, exposing his long, graceful neck and the scar cutting sideways down the soft flesh and over his collarbone. “We’ll see,” he said again, with stern authority. “That’s where we are, people. We just have to wait and see. It’s not a comfortable place to be, but we need information before we make any move. We have too much to lose to be wrong.”
“Maybe Blaine should have a psychic vision,” Tina teased.
The laughter was immediate and necessary. How something like the scattered handful of dreams that occasionally pointed Blaine towards horrific danger ahead had become a running joke, he had no idea. But people had to have a laugh somehow.
“If I could do them on purpose, I would!” He rubbed Pippa’s back.
She lifted her head and looked out at everyone. “Da-a-ddy, ish loud in here.”
“Yeah, peanut. We have a meeting right now, okay?”
“This is about all we have right now.” Kurt shrugged. He came over to Blaine and Pippa and knelt in front of them. “We’re going to be moving around a lot for the next few days. People will be coming and going, and we’ll be staying here instead of at home. Do you understand?”
She nodded her head. With her little body pressed to him, Blaine could feel the moment when she became afraid. Something in Kurt’s eyes had to have alerted her, because his voice was smooth and confident, and in the gentle, high register that she responded to so well, even as she was growing out of her babyhood. Her hands began to shake, and she buried herself in Blaine’s arms, letting Kurt pet her hair and cheeks, letting out only a soft whimper of complaint.
“Stay close to daddy for me? Whatever happens, you stick close to him,” Kurt said slowly.
“Are you going away?” her voice trembled at the thought. Because the last time Kurt had gone away, everyone had acted like he wasn’t coming back.
“Not if I can help it.”
Kurt lifted his eyes to Blaine’s. Blaine leaned closer and Pippa snuggled between them. She didn’t understand that her role as a baby had been a symbol of hope for them all. The sign that life prevailed sometimes and there was goodness in the world for the most defenseless among them. And she didn’t know anything else but an entire community that loved her and were there for her no matter what scary thing was happening. Even when Kurt had been gone, she was surrounded, and secure. She wouldn’t be like the worst of the survivors out there, and the ones growing up in this mess who had no sense of attachment to other human beings.
Blaine had seen them, when it was his turn to go inland. There was truly no basement in Hell. And he didn’t want her next years to be on the run, terrified and crying. She’d seen walkers before, because they’d made a point to bring some back to teach the children what they were, how they looked, and what to do if one was near. But for her to really be out there...
“We love you, baby,” Blaine vowed. “We’re all going to stick together, okay?”
Kurt touched her soft, curly hair, then rose to his feet. “I encourage everyone to spend some time with your families...” He spoke louder, lower. “I intend to, until we get word back.”
Kurt gave the crowd a nod and offered Blaine a hand. He rose to his feet and followed Kurt into the back office. Once there, Blaine shut the door behind them and handed Pippa over to Kurt, who hugged her close and let her bury her face in his shoulder.
Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt’s back and moved his palm down over Kurt’s chest, then neck.
“I’m fine,” Kurt whispered. He lowered his head slightly.
Blaine kissed his shoulder and tried to breathe. Then he realized why Kurt wasn’t looking at him. He stepped away and moved to his other side. Kurt screwed his brows together and shrugged.
“We’ll make it work,” Blaine said. He lifted up Kurt’s glasses onto his hair, and kissed over his cheek, then his bad eye, as Pippa giggled.
She got covered in kisses as well.
Pippa had calmed by the time there was a rap at the door. Burt entered, with Carol, Rafe, and Nick. Then Finn and Van and their brood. All of them sat together with one another quietly until Santana and Tianna slipped in. And then, tentatively... Cooper entered and leaned against the side of the door, smiling softly at them all. The room was almost overcrowded with family.
***
The general motioned for his soldiers to prepare for their jump, but halted them with a hand as the pilots called back to them: “Look! Look, sir!”
General Hadrian turned his head to look out the window. He boggled at the sight of the boat city beneath him. It wasn’t the complex structures, or the clear intent and design. Nor was it the size of the place, or the beauty. Though all of that was there. It was the enormous letters written across the city and a few stray boats sitting in a line outside of the city proper to help spell out the message:
WE ARE
PEACEFUL
BUT NOT
HELPLESS
WHAT DO YOU
WANT FROM US?
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
He took off his cap and continued to stare. A few soldiers drew closer and gasped at the message. Somehow, though it had been impossible for infected to build the structure that the first scouting team had described, it had seemed just as impossible for anyone to be living out here. The rest of the world had given up on North America years ago. The only people who came out this way were the military trying to clear out the endless numbers of the infected to prevent future attacks on the living, and scavengers.
But no. Here they were. A whole settlement of people. Ensconced. Wary. Possibly dangerous. They’d sent out scouting groups before who had come across stragglers who were not only feral-- almost indistinguishable from the infected-- but had amassed a truly frightening amount of weaponry, military and otherwise. This was such a rare occurrence, though, that despite some people greatly desiring to hunt the survivors down and destroy wherever they might be holed up, the government of the United Peoples refused to authorize another catastrophic bombing.
“Ya think they could be the same as those crazy fucks that took out Kelvin’s company?” Nadie called back from the cockpit.
“They’re pretty far west to be the same group of fellows. And our intelligence says that group has been wiped off the map. Someone took them out. Probably a mass organized effort to get rid of those fucking crazies,” Hadrian said. He pulled back. “Turn around and slow down. Let’s not give them any reason to get defensive.”
***
Pippa’s tears brought the whole of the group to their knees. The mood in the emergency boat was palpable as she sobbed and clung to Kurt. He held her closer for a moment, feeling as weak and as helpless as they had been hiding in that attic before she was born, fearing that she would never make it. But he didn’t have time for this. He suspected part of himself was turning off, and most of the time he fought it with everything he had. Today, he had to turn Pippa over to her grandfather, who already had his arms out for her. Kurt kissed her forehead and lowered her into Burt’s lap.
“No, no, Papaaa,” she wailed. “NO!”
Pippa rarely cried like this. Every distressed noise was a pain in Kurt’s chest. The other children followed suit, but he didn’t pay them any mind. He didn’t have enough room in his head at the moment, and their parents would tend to them.
“I’ll come with you,” Blaine said quietly. His hand caressed the top of Pippa’s head, and Burt rubbed circles on her back.
“C’mon, peanut. You were so good yesterday. You can hang out with me for awhile, huh? Me and Carol?” Burt told her quietly.
“Keep out of sight,” Kurt said. “This is a risk, and if it doesn’t pay off, everyone is going to need you.” He petted the sides of Blaine’s face, then kissed his lips. He refused to make it seem as though he were at all nervous. It was extremely unusual for Kurt to be the one to make first contact. As in, it had never happened. But he’d been an actor too, in a former life. “Everyone,” he emphasized.
Blaine nodded, his eyes flickering to Pippa.
Kurt checked the straps on the kevlar vest he was wearing, as did Santana and Andre, the latter of whom tossed a vest to Blaine. He took a deep breath, and donned his own protection. They loaded up their weapons, but kept them on their backs as they ascended the stairs, where Forest and Mike were already waiting.
Thirty minutes ago, the planes had started circling around once more. Fifteen minutes ago, three people dressed in military gear had touched down on the community boat and started looking around.
They were able to come to the deck without being noticed. The three people were busy looking through their homes. Kurt closed his eyes for a moment and listened.
“There’s a garden,” a woman said. American. North eastern.
“There are toys over here. That means kids!” a young man, probably Scottish said.
Kurt breathed in deep and felt the weight of his crossbow on his back. It comforted him that they had regular guns. That they might aim for his head and not the vest did not. That he might not be able to properly see it coming did not.
He motioned them forward and cast one glance back to Blaine, who lingered hidden on the deck. He would dart below if things went sour to warn the others. And he would probably dart out to help, if that was necessary. Blaine did excel at hand-to-hand. But mainly, he was manning the rocket launchers with Mike and Forest.
They were halfway across the main bridge before the military folks spotted them. The young Scottish man whipped around and held up an assault rifle. Immediately Santana and Andre drew their crossbows and aimed at the young man and the woman.
Kurt quirked his mouth to the side and looked straight at the older man. “Well,” he chirruped. “That’s friendly.”
He motioned for them to put their weapons down. Santana made a noise in her throat, but lowered her crossbow and moved closer to Kurt. Andre went in the opposite direction, getting a good angle from which he could take them all out, given the chance.
That didn’t need to happen. If it did, their visitors would send more jets, more weapons, more people. They’d wipe them out or force them to move inland, which was not worth the security from the arial visibility of their city.
“My friends have put down their weapons,” Kurt pointed out. He tilted his head to the side.
“This is quite a place you have here,” the older man said.
“It is.” Kurt scanned the three of them. “Are you looking for shelter?”
The Scottish man started to lower his weapon.
“If so, I’d prefer it if you ditched the guns. At least for casual use in the city. They’re loud and draw too much attention.”
“Are you the leader here?” the older man seemed surprised. He took a few steps forward and gave his associates a look that caused the rifle to lower even further. “How old are you?”
“Old enough,” Kurt replied. Then, with a bitter giggle, “Too old. Who lasts this long anymore?”
As the older man seemed to be sizing them up, Kurt spoke again: “I’m Kurt Hummel. Welcome to the Western Wave. If you want to be peaceful and useful, that is. If not, I retract my welcome.”
He put his hand on his hip, and the woman leaned forward as though she were fighting a laugh. The Scottish man’s lips twitched.
“I’m General John Hadrian of the United Peoples,” the older man said.
“United Peoples?” Kurt crossed his arms loosely and kept a light, friendly smile on his face.
“How long have ya been out here?” the woman asked.
“Out here-” Kurt gestured around at the city. “-roughly four years. We’re all from America and Canada. Most of us came up through the Toronto refugee processing, and when the wall blew, we headed west. Picked up a few friendlies along the way.”
The General started walking out onto the bridge. Kurt’s heart began to lighten. The man was putting himself in a tactically risky position by walking out here to meet Kurt, with his people behind him.
“The United Peoples are a loosely formed government, made of the remnants of the UK and Eastern Europe,” Hadrian explained. “We’ve slowed the spread of the virus, and our military has largely been concerned with getting the threat of the infected under control. The Americas haven’t been our first priority, however.”
“Were you the ones who bombed the refugee center? And the wall?” Kurt stared straight into the man’s eyes. He was only a little taller than Kurt.
“No. I have to say, I don’t think anyone from the U.N. is left. The world is smaller, now.”
“Well, General John Hadrian. You gave us and our families a scare, flying over us like that,” Kurt told him. He just barely kept the scolding out of his tone. “Most of us remember the bombings.”
“We were concerned that a settlement of survivors this big might be akin to the groups on the east coast. The people are very nervous about those survivors and what they might do with the right weapons.”
“East coast?” Santana looked to Kurt. “Wastelanders?”
“They’re not our friends, no.” Kurt lifted his chin and motioned the the scar running down his neck. “A souvenir from our last encounter. They hate us, actually, and have made a few attempts on my life personally. If there were enough of them, they’d probably hate the whole lot of us. As is, they’re probably doing a good job now of self-destructing.”
“As far as we know, they’ve been taken care of,” Hadrian said. “If we’re talking about the same group.”
Kurt swallowed. The image of their burning compound flickered through his mind, but he felt nothing.
“About time,” Andre muttered. “Ya’d think Tianna’s brain gas would’ve taken ‘em out.”
“Hard to kill off something that stupid,” Santana said. “Look at the walkers.”
General Hadrian looked over each of them in turn. “That you’ve made it this long is outstanding. I don’t know if folks back home would believe that anyone sane could’ve survived.”
“Hm.” Kurt said nothing further. He wouldn’t tell them about the Lucky Farmers unless he had to, and their southern neighbors were a bit out of range of these folks, and not always particularly friendly in any case. They could stand to wait until they knew they could trust these people before sharing information about the other survivors.
***
Blaine stands in the doorway and his eyes go immediately to their bed where Kurt lays, shirt hanging loose from his body. His neck is stitched up and covered with fresh gauze, as is part of his chest. Kurt stares at the ceiling, like he can see the sky through it. His right eye is still nearly swollen closed, though, and his glasses are off, sitting idle on the nightstand.
The purple and blue on the side of his lips highlights his slack lips like a colored gloss. Blaine goes to his side. Kurt barely responds, until Blaine touches his fingertips, and then he revives, imploring Blaine with one bright blue eye.
“Never again,” Blaine promises. He can’t promise, but he promises. He kisses the least bruised side of Kurt’s mouth and rises to straddle Kurt’s body, touching him so, so carefully.
His mind is filled with the image of their daughter’s tears, first when Kurt disappeared, then when he returned looking like a fresh walker. Utterly battered, beaten, and burned by the sun, good eye wild and angry. But walkers don’t come out to the Western Wave anymore.
Blaine’s fingers ghost over Kurt’s cheek, his thumb caresses the apple, he brushes his lips over Kurt’s. No words are exchanged as they slowly reacquaint themselves, slow and gentle touches. Then Blaine’s hands move down to slip off Kurt’s pants. He needs to be closer.
One hand slides up Kurt’s, and a sigh escapes beneath him. Blaine bows over him. They are moving together, panting quietly, one once more. Blaine closes his eyes. He breathes. He loves. He moves his hips in long, deliberate motions. Then he opens his eyes.
Kurt’s face is milky white and unmarred. The cut at his neck is a pale scar, and his lips plump and rosy. Blaine kisses them, firmly, and then feels something brush between them. His eyes drift downward, and what he sees pulls a string connected to the depth of his insides.
Very smooth and very swollen and very very round, Kurt’s belly juts up between them. Blaine’s hand is drawn to it. Kurt groans beneath him. His belly shifts from the movement inside. Blaine is afraid. He is also completely enamored.
Carefully, he cradles the back of Kurt’s head, presses his lips to Kurt’s forehead and sets himself to the work of making them both come. Kurt looks tired, and Blaine wants to engulf him in warmth and care until sleep takes him.
Blaine looks up at the yellowed ceiling three feet above their loft bed, then out at their small bedroom. Fleur-de-lis. Faded on blue wallpaper. Cramped room. Cramped apartment. But it is no matter. They are bursting with love.
Both panting and sated, Blaine pulls out and cups Kurt’s belly in both of his hands. Kurt has one arm draped behind his head on the pillow. The other curls fingers through Blaine’s hair and he smiles down at his husband, amused by Blaine’s fawning over his belly.
Blaine kisses Kurt’s belly, over and over.
“She’s a lucky girl,” Kurt says.
“My little Bumblebee,” Blaine whispers.
She moves once, disturbing the surface of Kurt’s round belly. But their lovemaking has rocked her to sleep. Blaine crawls up next to Kurt, kisses his nose, and wraps his arms around him before he pulls up the covers, and they are warm and safe.
Blaine’s eyes opened, and he was alone. Alone in the bedroom that he and Kurt shared in the houseboat that was their home. Slowly, he sat up, missing Kurt’s body beside him, and felt his heartbeat in his throat. His heart didn’t know yet that Kurt had chosen to go with the United’s military; his body was in panic, trying to urge him to action.
But there was no action to be had. And no more sleep. Blaine got out of bed and padded out into the hall and stood in Pippa’s doorway. She lay in her bed, arms sprawled on either side and curly hair fanned out around her.
Blaine touched his stomach, feeling so strange. His dreams weren’t usually that kind to him. Giving him Kurt when he wasn’t there. Giving him...
“Bumblebee.” Blaine moved his lips silently over the word.
He slid down in the doorway and rested his head on the frame as he continued to watch his little girl. Nothing would be right until Kurt returned.
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth.
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Title: Contact
Pair: Klaine and background others
Summary: Outsiders find the boat city. The citizens of the Western Wave prepare for contact.
AN: Attempting to finish up this last arc. Wish me luck, and I hope you enjoy.
“Did y’see that?”
“What are you goin’ on about? There’s nothing there, Trey. There never is. These sweeps are a bleedin’ waste of our time an’ resource, if you ask me.”
Trey looked again at the instruments and prepared to turn their aircraft around.
“Are you really doing this?” Jason asked.
“We’ve got the gas. It won’t take a moment.”
Jason kept an eye on the screen as they made their second pass. “What the hell is that? There’s not supposed to be any island there?”
“Maybe our coordinates are off.”
“No, I don’t think so. Good god. We should get the boys back here with some torpedos. An island crawling with infected that far out? They could spread it through Asia next. Can you imagine?
“There’s not been an outbreak in years.”
“Yeah, but there are areas over there... Like in Africa. You don’t want it to be spreading in areas that don’t have the resources to vaccinate and anyplace that’s so densely populated...”
“Everyone should be vaccinated by now...”
“Yeah. I believe that. And Britain is bustling and lively, with the light and joy of the angels and the laughter of children-”
“Oh, belt up.”
Trey flicked on the radio. “Oy, Nadie. We’ve found somethin’ out here. Gonna have another go at it, get a little closer. Over.”
“I don’t think we should. How low to we want to get? Remember how Tommy and the boys were done over, when they dipped down in the middle of Canada? Brains spilled outta their fucking ears!”
“That was years back. Not getting that close, anyways.” Trey shook his head and prepared for another pass.
“You say you found somethin’? What something? Over,” Nadie’s flat nasal voice said out of the radio.
“Looks like an island, or something close. Over.”
“Islands ain’t all that special, kid. Over,” Nadie drawled.
“Islands where they don’t belong are, you sweet thang,” Trey replied. “Give us a moment.”
Jason turned to the window as Trey maneuvered the aircraft. The two of them were silent as they came by with a closer sweep.
“That’s not an island, mate,” Jason muttered.
“No. But what-”
“Those are boats. No way. No way anyone could have...”
“Boats pulled up aside one another, all together?”
“No. Boats... Boat connected. They’re built together, all kinds. So many. And platforms, and bridges. Trey, this is a city. This is a place where people live... or lived.”
“Can’t believe it.” Trey shook his head. “This whole area... Can’t imagine people who still breathe out this way.”
“That must’ve taken them a long time. Not a poor idea at all, going this far out. Get away from the infected, you think?”
“Maybe. Maybe it’s just an artifact, now. Maybe the infected took them over there, too. Could you see the people?”
“I saw something moving around down there.”
“Well, we’ve got our readings. Let’s head back.”
“I’d love to talk to them... What it must’ve been like out here. Y’think they send a troup for a visit? Or... just bomb them?”
“Inland, maybe. Here? Easy enough for the hirer ups to figure what’s down there. The inland’s still such a bloody fucking mess.” Trey shook his head. “‘Oy, Nadie. Heading back. Over.”
“What did you find? Over.”
“You’re not gonna believe it.”
***
Kurt leaned forward, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. This wasn’t something he wanted to miss, even if his right eye was now failing him. Behind him, Blaine appeared, rubbing his stubbly chin against Kurt’s shoulder and hugging him tightly, and grinning when Kurt turned to give him a smile.
In front of them, Pippa spun in a circle, then moved onto her toe for a proper twirl. She was so beautiful when she danced. Blaine grabbed Kurt’s hand and pulled him towards the stairs. Kurt followed, running behind him and laughing freely.
“Daddieeee!” Pippa squealed.
Blaine leapt down the last few stairs to the platform where she’d been dancing in front of Van and the boys and swept her into his arms.
“Noo! No, no. I’m, I’m dancing, okay?”
“Can daddy dance with you?”
Pippa covered her mouth with her fingers shyly, then looked over at Kurt.
“Let’s dance for your papa, huh?”
“Yes!”
Kurt leaned back and allowed himself a big smile. “Dance for me, baby girl!”
Blaine set her down and started to sing, “Before you met me, I was all right, but things were kinda heavy. You brought me to life.”
He danced slowly beside her, and she mimicked his movements readily, giggling and smiling at Kurt.
“And now every February, you’ll be my Valentine-” Blaine made a heart with his fingers and looked down at Pippa as she, a beat later, did the same. “-Valentine!”
“Valentine!” she squealed.
Kurt bowed his head for a moment, shaking in laughter as his husband and daughter danced for him in the fading light of the day. Blaine guided her through the moves, one by one, and their precious little girl to her credit kept up fairly well. Blaine was training her in a variety of ways already, just in case. For flexibility, creativity, and stamina. When she was ready, they’d teach her to fight, but for now, the way she moved was joyful.
No matter what happened, she would live her life having known joy. Even if it was taken from her too soon.
Kurt swallowed and wiped his eyes, trying to pretend that wasn’t what he was doing. Then a sound above caught his attention, and he looked up. A frown slowly etched itself deep into his brow.
As if taking their cue from him, Blaine and Pippa looked up as well, followed by Van and the twins, Rafe, and several others who were out and about. The city looked up, and the air thickened with anxiety.
“Wazzat, daddy?” Pippa asked, clinging to Blaine’s leg. He picked her up again and held her close to him.
“A jet,” Kurt said. “It’s a jet.” He turned to Blaine, meeting his wide eyes with a stern glance.
Van pulled her boys close to her and hurried over to them. “What are they doing here?”
“Get everyone inside,” Kurt ordered. He touched Van’s shoulder then swept over to Blaine and Pippa, putting his arms around them. “Now.”
“Everyone get inside!” Blaine yelled.
***
“If they bomb us, we won’t have a chance!”
“No place is secure from everything. We haven’t had to worry about people threatening us at home for years.”
“Fine, fine, but what do we do?”
“Everyone should just try to stay calm,” Blaine said firmly. It was time for him to play the ‘First Lady,’ no matter how unsettled his insides were. “We have to keep our heads and play this smart. It’s what’s kept us going long past everyone else.”
The motors they’d put on the sides of the city to move it were experimental, and they’d only used them once to move out of the way of a bad storm. So the people had collected in the emergency ship, which was unconnected from the rest of the city and therefore able to sail, if they absolutely needed to.
It was crowded, and people were frightened. This place that they’d put together with their bare hands had been their home longer than anywhere else. Children had been born here, lives been created, families woven together.
“But shouldn’t we just get out of here?” Finn asked. He kept his voice even for the group, and to keep from alarming the children, but his eyes showed that he was panicking, just a little. “We could get further away-”
“Hon, that won’t do us any good. Not if they have planes,” Van said. She had her youngest baby Burt in her arms, and the twins Chris and Noah huddled around her legs.
Finn dropped down and put his big arms around the boys. “Don’t listen to mommy. She’s mean.”
She met his eye and bounced Burt on her hip.
Blaine put his hands on his hips, then turned to Pippa, who had somehow, in spite of everything, fallen hopelessly asleep when he’d put her down in a cot that night. It seemed ridiculous, how calm she was. Finn’s boys, Doctor Ariel Friel’s little girl, and two other toddlers born in an unplanned baby “boom” a few years ago had been up crying from the rush and disruption. Pippa seemed the least scared of anyone there, and that in turn seemed to keep most of the adults from succumbing to terror.
The doors opened up, and Kurt strolled inside, flanked by Santana and Andre. Tall, lean, strong, Kurt was still not the most obviously physically imposing of them, but at twenty years old, if an enemy looked closely enough, there was no question who was the leader here, who to keep far from if you valued your life. The years, additional injuries, and lack of advanced medical treatment had caused Kurt’s bad eye to worsen, but he’d learned to adjust. They all had. And Blaine felt safer with Kurt there. He knew most of their number did.
Blaine’s heart pounded in anticipation. Kurt held his hands up. His lips were pressed into a flat line. The people quieted and drew closer. Blaine lifted Pippa into his arms and let the girl rest sleepily against his chest.
“Our scouts have gone out on the speedboats and haven’t yet found any planes within a reasonable radius. Andre has informed me that the kind of jets we’re seeing are short range, so we expect to hear back from Mike and the Runners, soon. But we do not believe this is an attack from our neighbors from the south, at least.” Kurt adjusted his glasses on his nose and squinted at his people, who were listening eagerly. “When we get more information, we will decide the best course of action. It’s unlikely that we could move our people out quickly enough to avoid any conflict or making them more of a target. For now I’m asking you to stick close to one another and be prepared for action.”
“Could it be the Wastelanders?” Ariel lifted her girl from the floor and leaned back against the wall.
“We haven’t heard from them in a long time,” Burt said. “Not since they came out here Kurt.”
Kurt pursed his lips and shook his head. “And I made sure before I left that they no longer have leadership. They barely have anyone left, actually, and definitely no more serious ammunitions. That place was on fire, last I saw it. The level of tech and organization these people have is far beyond what the Wastelanders had on a good day. They had a nice reign, but they’re over.”
“Any idiot could get ahold of a plane,” Forest replied.
Blaine raised a brow. The man was voicing the issue just so that Kurt could knock the idea down. He often did so in meetings, acting with Kurt to bounce ideas around and come to the best plan.
Kurt tilted his head to the side. “Not any idiot could fly it like that. They circled around and checked our city out, several times. These are professional pilots, and they were getting a good look at us. They might be from pretty far away.”
“None of ‘em got close enough for me to really figure who they were,” Andre said with frustration. “Couldn’t see any markings. But they were military.”
“Well.” Santana walked over to Tianna and took her hand, gently. “Either they don’t have any weapons on that one and they went for reinforcements, or...?”
“Or they’re not hostile,” Tianna suggested. Santana squeezed her hand and drew her fingers gently through the short silky black bangs escaping the tiny pigtails on either side of Ti’s head.
Blaine watched them intently. It had taken Santana years to get to the point where she wanted more intimate company with another human being. Of course, this would happen right as they were drifting towards each other. Of course, this would happen now.
But god, why now? Why ever? Couldn’t they just live out their lives here in relative peace?
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up for peaceful people,” Blaine said. “But we should be wary of shooting first, as well.”
“Don’t want ‘em to get the wrong idea,” Forest agreed.
“Or the right one,” Saffire added.
Blaine reached out and touched her arm. The girl gave him a little smile.
“Best to keep them guessing, but I would also like to just have a meeting with them, if they’re willing.” Kurt crossed into the space in the middle of the room, put his hands on his hips, and looked down. There was a crease deep in his brow.
“So I’m on?” Cooper asked. “What part am I playing this time?”
Kurt’s voice deepened and issued the order without reservation: “You’re not.”
The silence grew.
“What do you mean he’s not?” Santana asked.
“I mean-”
“We’re not losing you now,” Santana argued.
“I don’t plan to get lost. My last adventure away from the Western Wave was more than enough for me. I’m gettin’ to be a homebody in my old age,” he joked in a dry tone. Then he lifted his head. “But if they want to meet with us, I need to see what’s in their eyes.”
“As if you can see anything anyway,” Santana muttered. Tianna moved closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders.
“I can do it, bossman,” Cooper said. “Just let me go and come back, like we always have. You can hide somewhere, and ‘see what’s in their eyes’ from a safe distance.”
“Kurt, please,” Blaine whispered. No one heard him, but he knew Kurt was aware of him and their child. He always would be.
Kurt’s chin lifted, exposing his long, graceful neck and the scar cutting sideways down the soft flesh and over his collarbone. “We’ll see,” he said again, with stern authority. “That’s where we are, people. We just have to wait and see. It’s not a comfortable place to be, but we need information before we make any move. We have too much to lose to be wrong.”
“Maybe Blaine should have a psychic vision,” Tina teased.
The laughter was immediate and necessary. How something like the scattered handful of dreams that occasionally pointed Blaine towards horrific danger ahead had become a running joke, he had no idea. But people had to have a laugh somehow.
“If I could do them on purpose, I would!” He rubbed Pippa’s back.
She lifted her head and looked out at everyone. “Da-a-ddy, ish loud in here.”
“Yeah, peanut. We have a meeting right now, okay?”
“This is about all we have right now.” Kurt shrugged. He came over to Blaine and Pippa and knelt in front of them. “We’re going to be moving around a lot for the next few days. People will be coming and going, and we’ll be staying here instead of at home. Do you understand?”
She nodded her head. With her little body pressed to him, Blaine could feel the moment when she became afraid. Something in Kurt’s eyes had to have alerted her, because his voice was smooth and confident, and in the gentle, high register that she responded to so well, even as she was growing out of her babyhood. Her hands began to shake, and she buried herself in Blaine’s arms, letting Kurt pet her hair and cheeks, letting out only a soft whimper of complaint.
“Stay close to daddy for me? Whatever happens, you stick close to him,” Kurt said slowly.
“Are you going away?” her voice trembled at the thought. Because the last time Kurt had gone away, everyone had acted like he wasn’t coming back.
“Not if I can help it.”
Kurt lifted his eyes to Blaine’s. Blaine leaned closer and Pippa snuggled between them. She didn’t understand that her role as a baby had been a symbol of hope for them all. The sign that life prevailed sometimes and there was goodness in the world for the most defenseless among them. And she didn’t know anything else but an entire community that loved her and were there for her no matter what scary thing was happening. Even when Kurt had been gone, she was surrounded, and secure. She wouldn’t be like the worst of the survivors out there, and the ones growing up in this mess who had no sense of attachment to other human beings.
Blaine had seen them, when it was his turn to go inland. There was truly no basement in Hell. And he didn’t want her next years to be on the run, terrified and crying. She’d seen walkers before, because they’d made a point to bring some back to teach the children what they were, how they looked, and what to do if one was near. But for her to really be out there...
“We love you, baby,” Blaine vowed. “We’re all going to stick together, okay?”
Kurt touched her soft, curly hair, then rose to his feet. “I encourage everyone to spend some time with your families...” He spoke louder, lower. “I intend to, until we get word back.”
Kurt gave the crowd a nod and offered Blaine a hand. He rose to his feet and followed Kurt into the back office. Once there, Blaine shut the door behind them and handed Pippa over to Kurt, who hugged her close and let her bury her face in his shoulder.
Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt’s back and moved his palm down over Kurt’s chest, then neck.
“I’m fine,” Kurt whispered. He lowered his head slightly.
Blaine kissed his shoulder and tried to breathe. Then he realized why Kurt wasn’t looking at him. He stepped away and moved to his other side. Kurt screwed his brows together and shrugged.
“We’ll make it work,” Blaine said. He lifted up Kurt’s glasses onto his hair, and kissed over his cheek, then his bad eye, as Pippa giggled.
She got covered in kisses as well.
Pippa had calmed by the time there was a rap at the door. Burt entered, with Carol, Rafe, and Nick. Then Finn and Van and their brood. All of them sat together with one another quietly until Santana and Tianna slipped in. And then, tentatively... Cooper entered and leaned against the side of the door, smiling softly at them all. The room was almost overcrowded with family.
***
The general motioned for his soldiers to prepare for their jump, but halted them with a hand as the pilots called back to them: “Look! Look, sir!”
General Hadrian turned his head to look out the window. He boggled at the sight of the boat city beneath him. It wasn’t the complex structures, or the clear intent and design. Nor was it the size of the place, or the beauty. Though all of that was there. It was the enormous letters written across the city and a few stray boats sitting in a line outside of the city proper to help spell out the message:
WE ARE
PEACEFUL
BUT NOT
HELPLESS
WHAT DO YOU
WANT FROM US?
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
He took off his cap and continued to stare. A few soldiers drew closer and gasped at the message. Somehow, though it had been impossible for infected to build the structure that the first scouting team had described, it had seemed just as impossible for anyone to be living out here. The rest of the world had given up on North America years ago. The only people who came out this way were the military trying to clear out the endless numbers of the infected to prevent future attacks on the living, and scavengers.
But no. Here they were. A whole settlement of people. Ensconced. Wary. Possibly dangerous. They’d sent out scouting groups before who had come across stragglers who were not only feral-- almost indistinguishable from the infected-- but had amassed a truly frightening amount of weaponry, military and otherwise. This was such a rare occurrence, though, that despite some people greatly desiring to hunt the survivors down and destroy wherever they might be holed up, the government of the United Peoples refused to authorize another catastrophic bombing.
“Ya think they could be the same as those crazy fucks that took out Kelvin’s company?” Nadie called back from the cockpit.
“They’re pretty far west to be the same group of fellows. And our intelligence says that group has been wiped off the map. Someone took them out. Probably a mass organized effort to get rid of those fucking crazies,” Hadrian said. He pulled back. “Turn around and slow down. Let’s not give them any reason to get defensive.”
***
Pippa’s tears brought the whole of the group to their knees. The mood in the emergency boat was palpable as she sobbed and clung to Kurt. He held her closer for a moment, feeling as weak and as helpless as they had been hiding in that attic before she was born, fearing that she would never make it. But he didn’t have time for this. He suspected part of himself was turning off, and most of the time he fought it with everything he had. Today, he had to turn Pippa over to her grandfather, who already had his arms out for her. Kurt kissed her forehead and lowered her into Burt’s lap.
“No, no, Papaaa,” she wailed. “NO!”
Pippa rarely cried like this. Every distressed noise was a pain in Kurt’s chest. The other children followed suit, but he didn’t pay them any mind. He didn’t have enough room in his head at the moment, and their parents would tend to them.
“I’ll come with you,” Blaine said quietly. His hand caressed the top of Pippa’s head, and Burt rubbed circles on her back.
“C’mon, peanut. You were so good yesterday. You can hang out with me for awhile, huh? Me and Carol?” Burt told her quietly.
“Keep out of sight,” Kurt said. “This is a risk, and if it doesn’t pay off, everyone is going to need you.” He petted the sides of Blaine’s face, then kissed his lips. He refused to make it seem as though he were at all nervous. It was extremely unusual for Kurt to be the one to make first contact. As in, it had never happened. But he’d been an actor too, in a former life. “Everyone,” he emphasized.
Blaine nodded, his eyes flickering to Pippa.
Kurt checked the straps on the kevlar vest he was wearing, as did Santana and Andre, the latter of whom tossed a vest to Blaine. He took a deep breath, and donned his own protection. They loaded up their weapons, but kept them on their backs as they ascended the stairs, where Forest and Mike were already waiting.
Thirty minutes ago, the planes had started circling around once more. Fifteen minutes ago, three people dressed in military gear had touched down on the community boat and started looking around.
They were able to come to the deck without being noticed. The three people were busy looking through their homes. Kurt closed his eyes for a moment and listened.
“There’s a garden,” a woman said. American. North eastern.
“There are toys over here. That means kids!” a young man, probably Scottish said.
Kurt breathed in deep and felt the weight of his crossbow on his back. It comforted him that they had regular guns. That they might aim for his head and not the vest did not. That he might not be able to properly see it coming did not.
He motioned them forward and cast one glance back to Blaine, who lingered hidden on the deck. He would dart below if things went sour to warn the others. And he would probably dart out to help, if that was necessary. Blaine did excel at hand-to-hand. But mainly, he was manning the rocket launchers with Mike and Forest.
They were halfway across the main bridge before the military folks spotted them. The young Scottish man whipped around and held up an assault rifle. Immediately Santana and Andre drew their crossbows and aimed at the young man and the woman.
Kurt quirked his mouth to the side and looked straight at the older man. “Well,” he chirruped. “That’s friendly.”
He motioned for them to put their weapons down. Santana made a noise in her throat, but lowered her crossbow and moved closer to Kurt. Andre went in the opposite direction, getting a good angle from which he could take them all out, given the chance.
That didn’t need to happen. If it did, their visitors would send more jets, more weapons, more people. They’d wipe them out or force them to move inland, which was not worth the security from the arial visibility of their city.
“My friends have put down their weapons,” Kurt pointed out. He tilted his head to the side.
“This is quite a place you have here,” the older man said.
“It is.” Kurt scanned the three of them. “Are you looking for shelter?”
The Scottish man started to lower his weapon.
“If so, I’d prefer it if you ditched the guns. At least for casual use in the city. They’re loud and draw too much attention.”
“Are you the leader here?” the older man seemed surprised. He took a few steps forward and gave his associates a look that caused the rifle to lower even further. “How old are you?”
“Old enough,” Kurt replied. Then, with a bitter giggle, “Too old. Who lasts this long anymore?”
As the older man seemed to be sizing them up, Kurt spoke again: “I’m Kurt Hummel. Welcome to the Western Wave. If you want to be peaceful and useful, that is. If not, I retract my welcome.”
He put his hand on his hip, and the woman leaned forward as though she were fighting a laugh. The Scottish man’s lips twitched.
“I’m General John Hadrian of the United Peoples,” the older man said.
“United Peoples?” Kurt crossed his arms loosely and kept a light, friendly smile on his face.
“How long have ya been out here?” the woman asked.
“Out here-” Kurt gestured around at the city. “-roughly four years. We’re all from America and Canada. Most of us came up through the Toronto refugee processing, and when the wall blew, we headed west. Picked up a few friendlies along the way.”
The General started walking out onto the bridge. Kurt’s heart began to lighten. The man was putting himself in a tactically risky position by walking out here to meet Kurt, with his people behind him.
“The United Peoples are a loosely formed government, made of the remnants of the UK and Eastern Europe,” Hadrian explained. “We’ve slowed the spread of the virus, and our military has largely been concerned with getting the threat of the infected under control. The Americas haven’t been our first priority, however.”
“Were you the ones who bombed the refugee center? And the wall?” Kurt stared straight into the man’s eyes. He was only a little taller than Kurt.
“No. I have to say, I don’t think anyone from the U.N. is left. The world is smaller, now.”
“Well, General John Hadrian. You gave us and our families a scare, flying over us like that,” Kurt told him. He just barely kept the scolding out of his tone. “Most of us remember the bombings.”
“We were concerned that a settlement of survivors this big might be akin to the groups on the east coast. The people are very nervous about those survivors and what they might do with the right weapons.”
“East coast?” Santana looked to Kurt. “Wastelanders?”
“They’re not our friends, no.” Kurt lifted his chin and motioned the the scar running down his neck. “A souvenir from our last encounter. They hate us, actually, and have made a few attempts on my life personally. If there were enough of them, they’d probably hate the whole lot of us. As is, they’re probably doing a good job now of self-destructing.”
“As far as we know, they’ve been taken care of,” Hadrian said. “If we’re talking about the same group.”
Kurt swallowed. The image of their burning compound flickered through his mind, but he felt nothing.
“About time,” Andre muttered. “Ya’d think Tianna’s brain gas would’ve taken ‘em out.”
“Hard to kill off something that stupid,” Santana said. “Look at the walkers.”
General Hadrian looked over each of them in turn. “That you’ve made it this long is outstanding. I don’t know if folks back home would believe that anyone sane could’ve survived.”
“Hm.” Kurt said nothing further. He wouldn’t tell them about the Lucky Farmers unless he had to, and their southern neighbors were a bit out of range of these folks, and not always particularly friendly in any case. They could stand to wait until they knew they could trust these people before sharing information about the other survivors.
***
Blaine stands in the doorway and his eyes go immediately to their bed where Kurt lays, shirt hanging loose from his body. His neck is stitched up and covered with fresh gauze, as is part of his chest. Kurt stares at the ceiling, like he can see the sky through it. His right eye is still nearly swollen closed, though, and his glasses are off, sitting idle on the nightstand.
The purple and blue on the side of his lips highlights his slack lips like a colored gloss. Blaine goes to his side. Kurt barely responds, until Blaine touches his fingertips, and then he revives, imploring Blaine with one bright blue eye.
“Never again,” Blaine promises. He can’t promise, but he promises. He kisses the least bruised side of Kurt’s mouth and rises to straddle Kurt’s body, touching him so, so carefully.
His mind is filled with the image of their daughter’s tears, first when Kurt disappeared, then when he returned looking like a fresh walker. Utterly battered, beaten, and burned by the sun, good eye wild and angry. But walkers don’t come out to the Western Wave anymore.
Blaine’s fingers ghost over Kurt’s cheek, his thumb caresses the apple, he brushes his lips over Kurt’s. No words are exchanged as they slowly reacquaint themselves, slow and gentle touches. Then Blaine’s hands move down to slip off Kurt’s pants. He needs to be closer.
One hand slides up Kurt’s, and a sigh escapes beneath him. Blaine bows over him. They are moving together, panting quietly, one once more. Blaine closes his eyes. He breathes. He loves. He moves his hips in long, deliberate motions. Then he opens his eyes.
Kurt’s face is milky white and unmarred. The cut at his neck is a pale scar, and his lips plump and rosy. Blaine kisses them, firmly, and then feels something brush between them. His eyes drift downward, and what he sees pulls a string connected to the depth of his insides.
Very smooth and very swollen and very very round, Kurt’s belly juts up between them. Blaine’s hand is drawn to it. Kurt groans beneath him. His belly shifts from the movement inside. Blaine is afraid. He is also completely enamored.
Carefully, he cradles the back of Kurt’s head, presses his lips to Kurt’s forehead and sets himself to the work of making them both come. Kurt looks tired, and Blaine wants to engulf him in warmth and care until sleep takes him.
Blaine looks up at the yellowed ceiling three feet above their loft bed, then out at their small bedroom. Fleur-de-lis. Faded on blue wallpaper. Cramped room. Cramped apartment. But it is no matter. They are bursting with love.
Both panting and sated, Blaine pulls out and cups Kurt’s belly in both of his hands. Kurt has one arm draped behind his head on the pillow. The other curls fingers through Blaine’s hair and he smiles down at his husband, amused by Blaine’s fawning over his belly.
Blaine kisses Kurt’s belly, over and over.
“She’s a lucky girl,” Kurt says.
“My little Bumblebee,” Blaine whispers.
She moves once, disturbing the surface of Kurt’s round belly. But their lovemaking has rocked her to sleep. Blaine crawls up next to Kurt, kisses his nose, and wraps his arms around him before he pulls up the covers, and they are warm and safe.
Blaine’s eyes opened, and he was alone. Alone in the bedroom that he and Kurt shared in the houseboat that was their home. Slowly, he sat up, missing Kurt’s body beside him, and felt his heartbeat in his throat. His heart didn’t know yet that Kurt had chosen to go with the United’s military; his body was in panic, trying to urge him to action.
But there was no action to be had. And no more sleep. Blaine got out of bed and padded out into the hall and stood in Pippa’s doorway. She lay in her bed, arms sprawled on either side and curly hair fanned out around her.
Blaine touched his stomach, feeling so strange. His dreams weren’t usually that kind to him. Giving him Kurt when he wasn’t there. Giving him...
“Bumblebee.” Blaine moved his lips silently over the word.
He slid down in the doorway and rested his head on the frame as he continued to watch his little girl. Nothing would be right until Kurt returned.
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