Disclaimer: I own nothing except an overactive imagination and way too many plotbunnies.

Hide Your Faces

The living room is full of teenage boys, and loud, and Carole doesn't doubt that before the night is over there'll be a sizable dent in the pantry. She doesn't care. It's nice to be surrounded by sounds of joy. It's particularly nice to know that Puck is there with Finn, and that they're finding their way back to each other again after everything.

That they're also including Kurt and Sam makes it all so much better, and it's with a smile on her lips Carole starts pulling out supplies for a snack.

She's maybe halfway through when Kurt joins her.

"Not having fun in there?"

Kurt scrunches his nose and moves his shoulders in a so-so gesture.

"They're being silly. They are talking about zombies, okay? And besides all the reasons zombies couldn't be a thing, now they're being stupid about what they'd do if there actually was a zombie apocalypse."


"It's all, where do they get guns, what kind of ammo would be best, what is the best way to take out a zombie. Over and over again. As if playing video games and watching B-movies makes them any kind of experts.

"And then, then they talking about how they'd miss all the people who wouldn't make it. Like they would."

Carole holds back a laugh, because Kurt sounds so insulted. She never would have thought he'd take something as silly as zombies this seriously.

"You don't think they would?"

"Honestly? No. They have no self-preservation skills. They're jocks, they're used to being at the top of the food-chain – and they don't seem to get that in case of a zombie apocalypse" he spits out the words "they wouldn't be any longer. I'd place my bets on you before them."

And this just got interesting.

"Why's that?"

"Zombie apocalypse comes, what would you do? Hide, I'm guessing. Make sure you were somewhere safe, with supplies and walls, and see if you could wait it out. And you would try to save as many as you could.

"Come on, you know how to feed a small army of teenage boys, and do it on a budget. You'd make sure you had actual food, stuff that wouldn't spoil, and probably vitamins and all that. Those ones?" He waves towards the living room. "They'd end up with beef jerky, cheetos and beer. Maybe boxed mac and cheese. And then they'd only get enough to last them a couple of days, because none of them knows how much food it actually takes to feed them."

Carole gives him a half-shrug, half-nod, because so far? He's on point.

"And well, they wouldn't save enough people, or the right people, because they'd be looking for fighters without thinking about everything else you need to get by. Or, for that matter, the fact that fighters don't share well.

"And then there's the simple fact that people like you and me? We're probably more suited to a zombie apocalypse than they are. Because we? We're used to being prey. We're used to hiding, and keeping to safe spaces, and traveling in packs for protection. We wouldn't run straight at things while waving a gun around, thinking we're invincible.

"We know we're not."

It's a heartbreakingly correct analysis, and Carole aches for this boy who has lost so much innocence.

"Okay, so if the zombie apocalypse comes, you and I are a team then. Who knows, we might even manage to save those knuckleheads in there, yeah?"

Carole tries for levity, and it works, to a degree.

By the time the remaining boys come looking for food Carole and Kurt are busy making their own plans for said apocalypse. They have evacuation plans, food estimates, and a planned bolt hole. And they haven't mentioned guns even once.

Yes, Carole thinks as she sees the flush on Kurt's cheeks and the smile on his lips, reveling in the knowledge that she caused them. We'll be a team. Zombies or no zombies.

~The End ~