TEDDY Q.

MARA.

+ TEDDY + FELIX JULY 4TH • INFIRMARY STORAGE UNIT

The bitter taste of defeat lingers on Mara’s tongue as the QZ falls apart around her. As people turn on each other and even those who appear most innocent give into the need for survival. That’s what they were all trying to do, right? Survive. Except there has to be more than that. She’d fought for so long, had stayed alive for so many years because of hope. Because she was determined to find her family again and she had. And now they had a choice and it weighs heavily on Mara as she waits in silence with Felix for Teddy’s arrival. It’s late but she’s got clearance to be in the infirmary. And she’s got a switchblade in case either Felix or Teddy need a quick excuse for being there as well. 

Though, the dim light above them is enough to illuminate the cut marring her son’s cheek, rugged and stubbled and she’s once again reminded of how much time has passed. Without preamble, and just for something to do, she reaches across, tipping Felix’s head so she can get a better look. “Are you cleaning it?” she asks, ever the mother hen where he’s concerned and though she knows the answer, she can’t help but ask. Mara’s always been calm under pressure but her patience to wait for Teddy has run out after ten years. “He said he’d follow right after you, right?” @felixsinclair​ & @teddyquijadas​

A storage unit should not feel comforting or in any sense of the word–like home. And yet with the simple walls of privacy that they provided, the sense of unease that had festered in his trek to meet his family without attracting notice just about vanished completely in the presence of his mother. Her touch, like always, gentle and warm–soothed all ills.

The stitches, though they’d needed to be fixed up once (and thankfully only once), had done their job well. It’d been a couple weeks since the stitches had come out now, but thankfully the wound had been healed up enough so it wasn’t an open wound exposed to the chaos of the last few days at the mall. The events of his misguided adventure into fight club seemed like eons ago. “Yeah, yeah it’s fine mom. Nothing reopening.” He gave a small grin if only to reassure, and glanced towards the door at her query, worry seeping in again. 

“Yeah, I mean, he said he’d leave a few after me, so I’d hope soon.” Taking a different route of course, as they’d done dozens of time now, and while the routine of it was normal, the unease with the recent events in Idaho Falls brought a freshened sense worry to their paranoia. Assuming their luck held out, dad would be arriving any second now, and hopefully Felix would get something of an update given all that occurred in recent days. He had to admit, he never expected that having their family together again would jump straight back into conspiring in the shadows. Mara & Teddy had done their best to shelter his younger self from the worst of it in Boston, but he hadn’t been completely ignorant of their actions, and there was no doubting the distant sense of deja vu that came with it all now. @teddyquijadas​ & @maraxsinclair​

What does it mean to be a parent who willingly lets their child walk into the fire? Teddy questions this to himself, and then he comes up with a thousand excuses to relieve his own guilt. Well, Felix is a man grown, he thinks, and this should be his decision, his own risk to take. Yet, all these words still taste like blood in his mouth. At the end of the day, Teddy will still watch as his son walks into the flames, facing his own destruction, even as he and Mara stand beside him. His involvement in their work has been a long time coming, a fact Teddy has to make peace with if he plans to stir up rebellion in Volkov territory. 

For now, he dreads it all the same. This is why he takes the long route on his way to meet Mara and their son. He’d like to pretend they’re a happy, normal family for some time longer, still basking in their reunion, untouchable in their joy. Teddy swore to himself he’d never risk being separated from his family again, but Mara is right, these people need their help — and if Mara won’t leave these people, neither will Teddy.

Two quick taps on the door announces his presence, and then he’s with them again, unable to help his smile at the sight of Mara fussing over Felix’s minor cut. He’s reminded of all the worst wounds their son received while it was just the two of them living as nomads, all the blood and broken bones that they’d had to learn to fix without her help. In greeting, he pulls the two of them into a hug, grateful to have them both in his arms again. 

“Sorry to keep you two waiting,” Teddy says, before throwing out their signed slang for, “had to avoid some fucking enforcers,” to explain his tardiness. Taking a seat on an infirmary stool, he makes himself comfortable in their meeting place. His hand finds Mara’s, and they exchange a knowing look, a signal to each other that they’re finally ready to have that conversation with Felix. He can tell she’s grown anxious waiting on him to meet them, so Teddy turns back towards their son, and sighs. All hesitancies aside, he knows he’ll have to take the first steps.

“So, Felix...Mom and I have been talking,” he starts, trying his best to tip toe into the topic. “What do you remember about our time in Boston?”

𝟏𝟓𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘. 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒. @maraxsinclair​

In the days that follow the outbreak, novelties like peace evade the confines of Idaho Falls. Between murderers, dictators, and the infected, there always seems to be a new threat staring Teddy and his family in the face. The horror of the outbreak serves as a wakeup call, a reminder that any incendiary actions or sparks of rebellion that may form are useless if they all become infected. In the aftermath, they would all do well to remember that.

Sent out to patrol the perimeter of the QZ ( his shift still on the schedule despite the sudden, unaccounted absence of his assigned partner ), Teddy sees this as an unprecedented opportunity. He invites Mara to join him on his route outside the walls, and lets their quiet walk together through the trees remind him of Boston, of simpler times. As they pass a thicket of larkspur, the path ahead of them lies still, no danger in sight or earshot. For some time, Teddy’s able to pretend it’s just the two of them in this whole wide world, and so he lets go of Mara’s hand to kneel down and pluck a few of the purple flowers. 

“For my Mara,” he says sweetly, presenting her with a bouquet of the wildflowers before them.  Things as frivolous as gifts and celebration are rare in a world as cruel as theirs, but Teddy still loves the way this small act lights up Mara’s face. “Maybe we can trade some venison jerky for a bottle of potato vodka to go with that.” It’s not quite as romantic as a bottle of merlot, but it would have to do, considering the circumstances. Teddy supposes that soon enough, they’ll be trading venison jerky for everything, relying on their contraband as a means of survival. His hand lingers on Mara’s waist, holding her close to him. “When’s the last time you and I had a proper date, anyway?” What is a proper date these days, when times like these are so precious?

Mara presses her lips together, studying her love with a steady and staunch gaze, blue eyes unwavering as he speaks. She’d dreamed about moments like these – when they were together again, entwined and cocooned in their own warmth and haze of affection. She’d spent years hoping they’d be reunited, strung back together by fate and chance, and now that they were, she should be packing her bags. She knows that. But her heart is stubborn, and she’s never been able to look away from those in need. “What’s changed is that I’ve been here, Teddy.” She catches the finger which brush her skin, pressing soft kisses to them. “And I know them.” And they were the people who kept me going when I didn’t know if you or Felix were alive.

“I just…I know we can do good here. We can help anywhere but here especially.” She knows it’s not what he wants to hear and wishes she could change her mind, but whenever she tries, there’s pushback she can’t ignore. Her conscience telling her she can’t leave yet. There’s still work to do. “There are people who are suffering now.” She knots their fingers together, resting her cheek on his bare chest, ear pressed to his heart and listening to the steady beat of his heart. “And I don’t think I can leave them. Not yet. Not after the storm.” The storm which seemed like ages ago now but had resulted in more problems in the past few weeks than they’d had in years in Idaho Falls. Rations, especially, were at an all time low. “We’ve never turned from those who need us.” He’s not wrong, though, getting out now would be easiest. When people were still dazed with loss and grief and strife. But she can’t do it. Not yet.  

_

A breath of frustration escapes him; he’s stubborn, unwilling to give in to her logic even though he knows that she’s right. It’s true, this is what they’ve always done together — they find the people that need them the most and they give all that they can to the cause. At times, it means sacrificing everything, but ever since their reunion, all Teddy can think about is finding an opportunity to escape the Volkov regime. He’s sacrificed his family once, why should he have to do it again? Then, she catches his fingers as they brush her skin, kissing them sweetly, and he finally responds. “There’s no denying they need help. It’s clear they lost a lot in the storm,” Teddy murmurs. All the infected, all the FEDRA agents, all the trigger-happy nomads in the world couldn’t ravage a place like the storm did in Idaho Falls. 

Just like back in Boston, there’s already rebellion brewing within the confines of the QZ without Mara and Teddy having to lift a finger. He’s reminded of the hot-blooded argument between Eva, Gil, and the others in the basement of the middle school, all that screaming right in front of Wendy’s still-warm body. He could do nothing else but listen as the group each squabbled in favor of or against their infamous dictator — but Teddy would never forget the solemn silence that fell over them as those seven people came together and carried her body back home. “You say you know them. But do you trust them?” he asks, meeting her eyes. Teddy knows what Mara is suggesting without her having to say it. Rations are running low, and people are starting to starve; even Teddy can feel hunger begin to gnaw at him. “If you want me to consider running contraband game across the QZ again, we’re going to need people we can rely on.”

time has a habit of blurring in crisis. but it’s easy to tell from how his body begins to ache that he needs to fucking lay down. a night stuck in the eye of the storm is not one with plentiful opportunities of rest. not when the basement smelled more and more like death by the hour. 

the old costco is barely an improvement on the storm trapped basement, not in this state. nik curses under his breath as he moves through the damage. and as he does, he thinks of teddy’s question the previous night. nik has seen shortages before, but none as drastic as this. if there was a mass grave last time, how many will be burned because they didn’t fight hard enough for food? how much more horror can he stomach?

teddy says what nik desperately didn’t want to hear, and he sighs as he strolls closer to the other, eyes finding the broken jars. “yeah, it’s a mess. few crates in the corner made it as far as i can see.” he reaches up to push his hair away from his forehead. nik doesn’t face teddy, doesn’t even spare him a glance. maybe it’s because teddy doesn’t feel like a threat. nik knows danger and it doesn’t come in men who’s first concern is all the mouths that will go unfed in the aftermath. “ever dealt with a shortage like this? even with FEDRA, we had some long lines for the ration center, but nothing like this… shitshow.” he drifts a meter or so away, sorting through the mess left by a fallen shelving unit.

Since the search has begun, a few things have been recovered and then packed away into an oversized cargo bin in the truck — a few jars of vinegar, crafted God knows when. There’s a crate of animal feed, found tucked away in an outdoor storage stall. Right beside it, there’s the near-miracle that is a sack of potato flour, Idaho Fall’s finest work. It’s dust covered, though as old as it might all be, it’s better than returning empty-handed. But still the men look, sifting through flood-ruined goods in hopes of finding something more. 

As Teddy rummages through the old storage hutch, pulling out old sopping boxes of grains and tossing them to the side, the sound of Nik’s voice almost startles him. The question sends him back to Boston, when he grew tired of handing over all his fresh game to military officers while normal citizens starved ( some thousands of people, who all lived there long before the infection broke out ). “I was in Boston for awhile, before FEDRA lost control. Shortages were the norm there,” Teddy says in a sigh. “Most days, there weren’t any rations to give out to the civilians.” So Teddy and Mara made sure that people were fed anyway, establishing a network that got game and medicine from one side of the QZ to the other. Everything they hunted, gathered, brewed, crafted, and ate was redistributed across Boston, keeping the small folk alive despite all odds. He can’t exactly explain this to Nik without drawing a giant target on his back. “But back then, people learned to rely on each other instead.” 

WATER TREATMENT PLANT, 23RD OF MAY. @daiyus​

Cargo trucks hunkered down with supplies head towards the water treatment plant, fighting flooded mudfields and soggy plains to get to those people who are still trapped inside the building. Amongst all the talk of who is assigned where and game plans amongst the soldiers, there is a murmur of surprise, too. It’s unlike Alexei to call a rescue mission like this, Teddy hears, though it’s easy to see how this time is different when his daughter’s name appears on the list of those that are missing and presumed to be at the plant. Teddy’s own son is on that list, too, and so he and Mara are amongst the first to volunteer for the rescue team. They travel in seperate trucks, avoiding drawing too much attention to the worry over their son. 

As his partner tends to Felix somewhere else in the makeshift medical camp, Teddy stays at his post, comforted to know he’s in good hands with Mara again. He tends to a fire at the center of camp, started by some Enforcer a few hours ago, adding kindling and poking embers as needed. He manages the ration packs, handing out old woolen blankets to those that approach the back of the van, doors swung open like a sign of safety. When Daiyu herself is lead over by another volunteer and sat fireside, Teddy abandons the kindling and hurries to gather supplies for her. “You must be hungry,” he says, back turned to her, rummaging for a pack of crackers and a serving of venison jerky. He hustles over to meet her at the fire again, handing over the food and a folded blanket. “I know it’s not much, I’m sorry.” 

+ TEDDY ( @teddyquijadas​ )

Mara watches the moonlight hitting the wall of the room, watches the shadows dance as she presses a kiss to Teddy’s hand, knotting her fingers through his. It’s quiet, patrols taking Eva from the room for the night. It’s been so long since they’ve been like this, over a decade, and she still knows him like the back of her hand, like the same heart that beats in her chest beats in his. She feels calm in this quiet, racing mind easing in Teddy’s arms. He always had a way of anchoring her in the present, in the here and now. 

But even in the quiet moments, she can’t help the way thoughts slip in. It’s impossible to block them all out, not when every day she sees the suffering around them, the way the storm had knocked them down and they hadn’t quite managed to get back up again. Sighing, she twists in his arms, so she’s facing him, tugging the comforter higher so they’re cocooned in it as she looks up at him, moonlight catching the slop of his cheek. ““I know…I know you want to leave,” Her words are a whisper as clear blue eyes search his face.  I know you only came here for me. “But I can’t leave them…not yet.” She sighs, shutting her eyes as she speaks, “we need to help them, Teddy.” 

It’s still so surreal to hold her in his arms again, like not a day passed since he lost her; they’re curled into each other, half-naked in some bunk in the last quarantine zone he’d ever thought he’d find her. It feels like coming home as he lays beside Mara, their bodies pressed together, hands entwined, in a haze of pheromones and each other — oh, how many times he dreamed of these intimate moments, only to wake up angry and frustrated and grieving all over again. A decade of holding that heaviness, hiding his pain for the sake of their son, all for it to melt away in Idaho, heartache forgotten as he smiles down at her, pressing sweet kisses to her temple. There’s no such thing as real privacy in Idaho Falls, but alone together in Mara’s standard-issue bed, Teddy wouldn’t care if Alexei Volkov himself barged into the room. 

They never had a wedding of sorts, no formal celebration of their commitment to each other, but this moment feels like a honeymoon. As Mara twists out of his arms, finding her place on top of him instead, he can’t help but think about how monumentally lucky he is — thank God he’s fucking found her, that she survived all these years, and was still looking for him, too. Moonlight and his fingertips trace her skin as she speaks. Teddy listens, though his eyebrows furrow hard at her words.

Somewhere inside, he knows she’s right. He, too, feels the tug in his stomach, an inherent urge to help fix what is clearly broken here inside the walls of the quarantine zone. But Teddy is uncertain if he’s willing to put his family at risk again so soon. “I don’t know, Mar...” he says, slipping a hand behind his head as he looks at her. “It’s never been our plan to settle.” The elephant in the room threatens to break the silence; their decade forced apart from each other rears its ugly head again. “I know a lot of time has passed since we’ve revisited our plan, but...” he trails off. “What’s changed? We should just get out while we can, while no one will ask any questions over three more bodies gone missing.” 

—  🏹  —

Henrik’s eyes shift between Teddy as he approaches and the two he is stepping away from. It’s strange, the concept of ‘family’ these days. He’d had it once, of course. Twice, if he really let himself think about it. But he didn’t - it was easier that way. Easier to not think about it. Easier to operate in the here and now rather than the past, the could have been, the once was.

Beyond that, he’s surprised by the man’s candor. He’d sensed it here and there, words going unsaid behind locked lips. There was a tension in Idaho Falls between the people simply looking to survive and their ‘leader’. It was dangerous, speaking such things out loud. Dissent seemed to get people killed around here. Yet coming from someone as put together as Teddy always seemed to be, it was amusing. “True,” he hums in agreement, a hint of a smile upturning the corner of his lips, “that is yet to be seen.”

It was easier, in so many ways, to not deal with such things - wonder if their almighty leader was going to come save them, or help clean up the mess, or make a difference. When you were on your own in all this none of those questions were even considered. It was always up to you, one way or the other.

There was only so far that strategy took you when there was someone else standing in the way.

“Could be worse,” he murmured as they stepped through the debris, studying the damage left behind. It wouldn’t take too much to get the place back up in fully functioning order - but would it be prioritized? Should it be? He didn’t know how much damage there was to the rest of the QZ at this point, either. “Let’s just keep an eye out for infected. Assess and clear.”

There are those in Idaho Falls who can afford the luxury to speak freely, and there are those who don’t. At Henrik’s upturned lips and amused answer, Teddy is reminded that he isn’t one of the lucky ones who’s been awarded a voice. He’s been a foot soldier before, someone made to not question an order ( it’s easier to blend in when you’re hidden beneath the boot of someone else, anyway ). Besides, despite Teddy’s natural optimism, there’s little point in putting any hope in dictators. Maybe it’s time he and his family leave — maybe even tonight, while the storm damages are still enough of a distraction for them to run.

He lets Henrik’s remarks go unanswered. What more is there to say? Henrik wasn’t there at the middle school, he wasn’t there to watch Wendy die that horrible death. He wasn’t one of the few who volunteered to carry her body back to camp, knowing that Alexei’s men wouldn’t, and he’s one of the many who aren’t weighed down now by the knowledge that their dictator could have prevented all these lives lost. Good at biting his tongue for the sake of avoiding conflict, Teddy presses on in silence, leading Henrik towards the main water holding tanks on the other side of the plant. 

Three steel drums tower over them in the distance, churning as they protect what’s left of their water supply. “You check around tank two and three, I’ll check the first tank and the control room,” Teddy suggests, throwing his head towards the rolling land that surrounds each of the landmarks. The whole place reeks like untreated water, and the humidity is unbearable, but the infected prowl in any weather, and will strike in any place. 

Keeping his bow drawn as he circles the area, waiting for any sign of sudden movement, Teddy decides to clear the small control hutch first. A small, cement-walled thing, it’s little more than a roof covering a control panel, with a normally locked door to match. However, the wind must’ve ripped the door right off the hinges. Now, standing without a door, it’s easy to see that the area is clear, no infected or people locked inside and needing to be saved. He walks towards the tanks again, only a few yards away, expecting to easily clear the first tank’s surrounding area. “Control room is clear,” he shouts gruffly to Henrik.

23 OF MAY. FOOD STORAGE UNIT AT THE OLD COSTCO BUILDING. @cordiiceps​

Normally, Teddy’s got a great sense of impending doom. There’s always flashers that go off in his head before he throws himself face-first into the danger, but things are eerily calm as he walks with the brother of the dictator. He can’t yet tell if Nik is just good at donning sheep’s clothing, playing nice with inferiors as some sort of power move, or if there’s really nothing to be weary of — above all, he errs on the side of caution, reminding himself that once again, he has everything to lose.

Conversations shared in the flooded middle school basement have run rampant in his head since they were first spoken aloud; Alexei will sooner let all of Idaho Falls starve than attempt to ration off the food stores that are left. Though Teddy promised himself he wouldn’t get wrapped up in the politics of Idaho Falls ( as he knows it’s just a distraction from leading his family to their eventual escape ), he can’t help the gnawing feeling that grows in his stomach, the painful empathy for the people who live under a dictator’s rule. 

There’s a whole team sent out to recover supplies in the aftermath of the storm, but Teddy and Nik have been alone in the food storage building for some time. They sort through old crates and take inventory of what’s salvageable. Amongst all the ruined grain and storm-smashed debris, he can’t help but see the glaringly obvious; he and Mara could do here what they did in Boston, sneaking contraband food across the QZ and into the mouths of those that need it most. Would someone like Nik help or hurt their cause?

Teddy clears his throat. “Whatever was pickled in these jars is long gone,” he says gruffly, pushing broken shards of glass with his boot. “Doesn’t look like there is very much here to save.”

Home was a complicated concept that Felix he didn’t get to fully realize until he was barely a teenager. In his childhood, home had simply been whatever warm and dry place he could safely rest his head. But meeting Teddy and Mara very quickly become a defining moment in Felix’s life where home came to mean something else entirely. Home, was no longer tied to the simplicity of a singular place, but instead the mere company of two very specific individuals. 

He’d had little issue with leaving Boston, because as long as he had Teddy and Mara, home came along with him no matter the roads they ambled along. Home became fractured on a day he’d never forget, and though the hurt lessens and blunts overtime, the ache is soothed with the constant comfort and presence in dad. The ease in which Felix finds in his dad’s presence, wherever they bunked down for the night, the hardness of packed earth beneath his sleep roll or the creek of a time worn and weathered mattress… it was inconsequential. He had a part of home with him, and it made the miasma of bleak tension that lingered over Idaho Falls feel a little bit brighter.  

The only time he felt comfortable and at ease, even within the somewhat (in)secure haven of their assigned residence, was in the company of his dad. He was no stranger to the possibility that he was probably a little codependent on his dad’s company, but who wouldn’t find security and a grounding sense of assurance from simply being in the same room as family?

He watches the words Teddy makes, eyeing the movements thoughtfully, considering his dad’s words. He supposed there was a slight benefit to Alexei’s brutality. Though it didn’t quite make for the most nourishing of environments for the people under his wing, it was still a form of protection from the outside world that Felix was fortunate enough to have the tools to weather. Not everyone was so lucky. He shrugs eventually, before twisting his hands into familiar shapes and motions, “I guess you’re right. If you and mom hadn’t took me in when you did and taught me what you did… I don’t know where I’d be or if I’d even be at all after Boston fell.” 

Once you choose to live your life in the wilderness, you come to rely on silence as a life source — without it, there are no animals who let their guard down long enough for you to hunt them, no trickling streams to be heard through miles of trees, nothing to be found to fuel your body further. It’s become a natural state of being to father and son, who long ago came up with their own quiet language to share while tucked into the safety of forests and fields and mountains. They share it now, enjoying the only true privacy they can in Idaho Falls, since their thoughts are impossible to intercept this way when they’re alone in their assigned room. 

Throwing an arm around his son and squeezing him tight, letting loose a silly laugh, Teddy can’t help but tease Felix. He loosens up again to sign, “Oh, I’d know what you’d be doing, son. Barking up the wrong tree at every opportunity. Cussing out some rebel over a bad trade deal, as if that’d actually get him to pay a fair price.” He was the scrappiest little thing back then, courageous enough to take on grown men twice his size if they’d even thought of starting trouble with his dad. “FEDRA would’ve been sick of you in two weeks time, trust me. They would’ve brought you back.” Though in reality, they both know how lucky Felix is to be a young man his age, alive and unlisted in their ranks. It’s been he and Mara’s life mission to keep him from their reach, and Teddy feels proud to say he’s at least kept up that end of his promise to her.

Thinking about the fall of Boston makes Teddy feel so ancient and so hopeless — that night feels like lifetimes ago now, certainly two or three stages of grief ago. Back then, there was a lot more hope to be found, a remaining belief that perhaps people could still make a life outside of the horrors; Teddy, too, once believed that. Now that he’s signed his life over to Alexei Volkov and there’s still no sign of Mara in Idaho Falls, he struggles to see how he’ll stay strong for their son without her, though he can’t possibly let Felix know of his doubts. “We’ll find her,” he signs, though the look on his face might reveal that this is said more for Teddy’s own sake than Felix’s — this sentiment has been their chosen mantra for years now. “This place is just huge, too huge, and maybe no one knows her that well yet.” He nudges his son’s shoulder gently, an affectionate gesture of sorts. “We’ll find her, and then we’ll escape all together. We won’t let them think they own us.” Because there’s no fucking way they’ll stick around long enough for Alexei to do to them what he did to that cook.

—  🏹  —

It isn’t immediately clear what has drawn his attention. Was it just the wind rustling through the trees in a distinct way that made it stand out? Was it another patrol, enforcers come to break up a moment of simplicity, or any other living thing that had come too close for comfort? They were all distinct possibilities, but the most likely was none of those at all. Instead it was a distinct sort of shuffling, a gasping, groaning noise that was not formulated through any coherent language. No, it’s company that Henrik has grown far too used to over the last several decades, though certainly not pleased to see.

Henrik releases an arrow purely on instinct before the infected even come into full view, and given the escalation of noise produced his aim isn’t far off, even if it’s unclear whether it met a proper home. He clicks his tongue in acknowledgement when Teddy claims that it isn’t an enforcer - and he doesn’t have enough time to think further about how irritating it was that that were a possibility. As if they needed some sort of babysitter, oversight - as if they weren’t the ones with boots on the ground experience with this kind of situation already, perhaps even more so than these ‘enforcers’ of Idaho Falls.

There isn’t much more time to respond before a runner breaks free from the trees, finally making themselves known. And Henrik spots movement just beyond it. So much for a few minutes of peace.

He doesn’t bother saying anything as Teddy seems to be on the same train of thought, turning tail and firing off an arrow that at least slows down the first runner on their tails. Henrik follows suit, letting another fly a moment later as the pair distances themselves to gain better ground and the upper hand against the infected. He supposes this is why they’re out here, to clear out the infected and make sure the territory is safe. But fighting the ideal response to run and hide, to avoid and not engage in some of these situations - it’s a difficult one.

Who: closed ! @teddyquijadas​ When: May 23rd Where: Water treatment plant

Finding their way to the water treatment plant and discovering that it was little more than a blocked door that kept the ‘lost’ patrol was, all things considered, a rather positive outcome. Rik had gotten rather used to things not ending up that way. Death and loss was too familiar a feeling. But everyone was accounted for…plus one more.

It wasn’t Henrik’s place to decide who stayed and who didn’t; he could hardly care much less about any of the people who climbed out of the darkened corridors into the evening sunlight. He didn’t know any of them, not really; Daiyu Volkova, daughter of Alexei and hard headed enforcer. Victoria Holtz, daughter of Nikolai Volkov. Suri Farook, someone Henrik knew next to nothing about. And Felix Sinclair, the boy that Mara and Teddy were currently worrying over.

Would any of these faces have been prioritized for rescue if Daiyu hadn’t been among them? If he’d been stuck in there instead of the precious daughter enforcer? He couldn’t decide one way or the other - and did it matter, anyway? Would they have been able to free themselves without intervention, or died in those darkened halls?

Henrik’s pensive, leaning against the tailgate of one of the trucks as familiar faces reunite with one anther. Nele with Daiyu, Victoria. Eva with Suri. A neat little picture. As Teddy breaks away from his own little family reunion and heads in his direction, Rik looks up and give him a brief nod of acknowledgement.

“You want to take a look around?” It couldn’t hurt. Certainly in the hours they’d been trapped the patrollers had investigated whatever they could from the inside, but who knew what other damage might be unseen on the outside? “You’re more than welcome to stay with the kid.”

Desperate not to give Alexei Volkov any additional leverage over him and his newly reunited family, Teddy and Mara decide to be as discreet as they can about their connection to each other — if that’s even possible anymore. Felix has Mara’s last name, and considering he and Teddy arrived in Idaho Falls as a packaged deal, interrogated upon entry together, it’d be naive to say that Alexei didn’t already know all about them. But now, when their son is trapped inside a water treatment plant during a torrential fucking storm, any remaining semblance of caution goes out the window. There’s no way either he or Mara will sit idly by and let the cruel world tear apart their family again.

In an unlikely twist of lucky fate, they are assigned to the rescue mission together. There’s an obvious thought that echoes in everyone’s mind as the trucks are sent out towards the plant: the only reason there’s a rescue trip sent out at all is because of the Volkova that’s trapped there. Teddy adds this fact to yet another item to his mental list of reasons they need to get the hell out of Idaho Falls while they’re still all in one piece. This time, their family reunion is controlled — relief floods them as quickly as the stormwaters, but they can’t afford to lose the time it takes to cling to each other now. When he catches Henrik’s eyes in the aftermath, Teddy knows he must allow himself to be torn away.

“Nah, let’s go. Mara can handle him on her own,” he says gruffly, choosing not to look back at her and Felix as he walks towards his regular patrol partner. He’s come to almost trust Henrik in a way, at least enough to know he’ll cover his back if they get swarmed by runners out of nowhere. “I’m sure there will be plenty of damage to report,” Teddy starts, “whether or not Alexei wants to fix it is anyone’s guess.” Since dissent is on everyone’s mind today, he does little to hide his disdain for their self-appointed ruler.

They push through the cleared rubble and back outside again, where humid post-storm air greets them. Even without investigating much further, it’s clear enough that the infrastructure of the water treatment plant has taken a hit. Noticing how much debris has beaten it’s way into the water reserve system, Teddy says, “looks like we’ll be double-boiling our drinking water again.” Which is the only way to do it when you’re a nomad, but there’s no denying Teddy will miss the luxury of access to instantly safe water.

—  🏹  —

“Alright,” Henrik nods, studying the placement of the other soldier’s arrow a moment, sucking his teeth. “Not all talk, then.” Evenly matched, perhaps - though it was hard to make such a call on only one volley of arrows. It could’ve been a lucky shot. Yet he’d seen the way Teddy worked, the lift of the bow and pull of the string. The way he steadied himself with a breath before letting the arrow fly. It was a practiced form.

A competition, then. There’s a slight quirk of his lips at the idea of it; it had been a while since he’d had any real competition - any reason to attempt to better his skill was a good one, and a competition against himself was never as interesting.

He nods as Teddy hands off the reigns, stepping forward to set up his next shot. He pulls back the string and is just about to release the arrow - but there is something nagging at him, pulling his attention away. It’s nothing immediately apparent. Just a feeling.

His eyes shift, move to skirt the trees surrounding them. Is it something in his peripheral vision? Or a sound that isn’t quite right?

He catches it, a flicker of movement, erratic and yet familiar in behavior. His aim moves immediately to follow it, release the arrow far off track of the original target - by in line with his new one.

“We’re not alone here,” he breathes in an undertone, his eyes flicking over towards Teddy as another arrow finds way into his hand. There’s a subtle shuffle, something that could very well be the wind, but Rik gestures in that direction as he strings another arrow.

There’s a brief respite from Alexei Volkov here, a small moment of time when Teddy is able to forget this newfound, begrudging allegiance. Over time, his patrol route wanders farther than what is typically allowed, but the two men are certainly less worried about the familiar horrors found outside the walls. Instead, they jump at the chance of a little unfettered fun ( made even better by the fact that it’s done right under the nose of their dictator ). He watches closely as Henrik nocks the arrow and takes aim, though something has him stop before the arrow is sent soaring. Teddy turns towards the trees to listen.

More than other hunters, Teddy relies on his ear — the good one, anyway, and today is no exception. A small sound grows from behind the brush, and then fills the air from out deep in the woods. The source seems to hide just where daylight disappears into the darkness of the trees. In the distance, an erratic movement rustles branches, and the sound he swore was the wind only moments ago lowers to a definite groan, something close to a sob. He meets Henrik’s eyes, and they share a knowing look. Indeed, they aren’t alone.

—  🏹  —

Turning his eyes over to Teddy once again, Henrik is amused by the hints of excitement glinting in the man’s eyes. He was surprised, admittedly, at the suggestion in the first place; the other man seems to be rather straight edge, a man that would follow the rules and not be willing to stray from them. But maybe there’s something more to it. After all, it had been a rather quiet shift thus far, a little target practice and competition never hurt. Right? Besides, shift swaps were fairly painless for most everyone else save for the poor soul (Teddy, probably) that got stuck with the late nights or early mornings.

He hums an acknowledgement of the shift trade deal, gaze flicking back over the many remnants of targets among the trees. “Seems fair,” Henrik agrees, freeing an arrow and nocking it. “Though I think you should be the one worried about the late nights. Truth be told, Henrik hardly minded any of the shifts - it wasn’t as if he’d operated on any sort of regular schedule in ages. But still, a wager always served as some kind of motivation - and Henrik was nothing if not a competitor.

His eyes skirt the treeline once more, finding all to be quiet, before giving a nod to Teddy’s suggestion of taking the first shot and lifting his bow to line up up with one of the nearer targets. He steadies his breath, draws his elbow back, and lets the arrow fly. It lands on the inner red ring, not perfect by any means, but not too bad, either.

“Let’s see if you’re more than just talk, Quijadas.”

Stood some ten yards behind Henrik, Teddy is provided the perfect view of the other’s skill. He watches carefully as the other man’s arrow is unsheathed, loaded, and released. Eyes trail the tail of the arrow as it soars through the air, whistling as it flies, and hits the target across the distance with a satisfying thump. Teddy smiles, impressed with the shot. “Not bad,” he offers. Anyone who is practiced enough to hit a target as far away as these in front of them are deserves credit where credit is due. 

Admittedly, though, he still thinks he could do better. All his years of hunting and providing for hungry mouths across much-larger quarantine zones makes Teddy think he’ll hit any of these targets no problem – but it’s also bad luck to be so cocky. Stepping forward, he takes the place of his competitor, standing to face the eerie trees and their targets. Loading a bow is like clockwork to Teddy; It’s muscle memory, how he raises his weapon to take aim in swift, silent movements. He steals a deep breath before letting his own arrow fly. 

It whizzes through the air, like the adrenaline courses through his veins. It sinks into the target in nearly the same spot as Henrik’s arrow, piercing the crumbling wood only a few inches further to the left. A pinprick of annoyance pokes at Teddy, who has to stare at the target a few seconds longer in order to believe he hasn’t done any better. Maybe he’s just rusty. “Back to you, Larsen,” he adds with a quiet huff. 

Emotion threatens to overwhelm her like a wave, crashing into her as she clings to Teddy. Her Teddy. It’s all she can think of. He’s real. He’s here. His name on her lips tastes so much sweeter for that fact. For the fact that she’s not dreaming. That he’s not a memory. He’s not a ghost, not anymore. She squeezes her eyes tight, feeling the trail of a single tear escaping down her cheek. “Promise me you’re here.” Because if he wasn’t, she’d shatter. She’s held herself together for so long, for so many years, in the hopes that this moment would come. And as solid as he feels in her arms, as wild as his heart sounds beating inside his chest, she needs him to promise her. To make sure that this is actually happening. She’d hoped against hope and hope had failed her so many times, as many times as it had saved her. And now…here they both were.

She pulls back only slightly, loath to let him go but she wants to see his face, eyes trailing rugged skin, looking into warm eyes she’d begun to fear she’d forgotten. Where have you been all this time?  “Everywhere,” she whispers, swiping at her eyes. I’ve looked for you everywhere – in every place, in every person, in everything. She doesn’t say this though, suddenly aware again of Abby taking care of a patient in the next room. Of the fact that this place has always had more eyes and ears than she cared for. She brings a hand up, fingers ghosting the sharp edge of his jaw, feather light over the gray-speckled stubble there. It’s been ten years but he’s still as beautiful as ever. He’s still as solid and steady as she remembers.

When he switches to a language she hasn’t used in forever, Mara almost laughs, muscle memory kicking in as he signs. “Yes. Are you heading on patrol?” She doesn’t know what his role is here but it’s the first thought that comes to mind. “I can’t leave yet.” Oh but she wants to. She wants him to stay by her side. Wants to make sure he doesn’t disappear. But she can’t leave and he can’t stay. And they’re back to where they began, separated by circumstance. It makes her stomach twist to think of sending him away but a new fire’s been lit in her, one that won’t go out. She won’t lose her family again.

Because they’re both here. Mara swallows thickly at the mention of Felix and she feels gratitude rush in. All she can say, all she can do is nod, signing two simple words that carry a world inside of them. “Thank you.” For keeping him alive. For not giving up. For finding me. But she can’t say these things aloud, and so she settles for taking his hands in hers, squeezing them tightly before she glances over her shoulder, back at the room Abby’s working in. She’d be finishing up soon. “Where are you staying?” This time her voice is a whisper as she clears her throat and takes a half step back when she hears footsteps. “I’ll come find you.” 

There’s no hiding this joy, no matter how smart it might be to shield it in a place like Idaho Falls. Teddy’s spent the last ten years imagining this moment in a thousand different ways, so he holds onto this warm feeling tightly, careful not to let all the happiness slip between his fingers again. Their shared love is muscle memory, surefire and steadfast, a foundation in which their family stands atop. A giddy excitement runs like electricity through the air, and Teddy relishes in it — he’s eager to share this with his son, too. Cupping her face with such tender hands ( perhaps afraid that she’s as fragile as a dream ), he wipes those welling tears from Mara’s cheeks. “I promise, love. It’s really me.” His hand finds hers, pulls her palm to rest on his chest, letting her feel the quickening beat of his heart. “I’m never leaving without you again,” he whispers, intent on keeping that promise this time around.

And like old times, they can pivot to all-business again, which is their only true protectant here. It’s better to appear detached, which is something they can’t pull off if they’re caught speaking in a secret, signed language that only they know. Teddy is careful to keep his hands low and out of view of the old storefront windows as he signs. “Yes. Until eight,” which leaves time for little other than whatever version of potato is served for a late dinner before the Enforcers harp about curfew. “Felix and I are —” he speaks aloud again, until the sound of unknown footsteps behind them sends the pair fleeing from each other again. 

“Thank you for your advice, Dr. Sinclair,” Teddy says gruffly, eyes restrained to the floor. With only a few steps to escape through the front door again, he turns on his heels, leaving his soulmate with little more than a curt nod, for now.

The patrol shift that follows is shit — Teddy’s way too anxious to fucking focus, all bouncing knees and clenched teeth as his feet trudge through his assigned portion of the woods. The hours drag on; he’s lost in his worries for what his little visit may bring Mara, his mind only occupied by circular thoughts of Alexei’s horribly unchecked power. Tonight, when she joins her family again, Teddy will have to convince Mara to leave at once, beg her to run with he and Felix while they still can. It’ll be safest while no one suspects them, while the powers that be are still unaware to this vulnerability. 

—  🏹  —

A strange sort of routine has formed in the days since Henrik had begun taking up patrols, serving as a ‘solider’ for the benefit of the Quarantine Zone. Beyond the walls is familiar, an environment strangely simpler to navigate than that within the QZ boundaries. There is a part of him that considers simply not returning at all, though he also acknowledges that doing just that could be a death sentence in and of itself. He wouldn’t have the option to return. Not unless he wanted to become another body added to Alexei’s count that seemed to regularly increase with the passage of time.

So the patrol shifts are a middle ground, a place where he feels most himself while also remaining connected to the QZ, and the people there. He was breaking his own rules again, letting people grow close, finding comforts in company that he’d lacked for so very long.

Perhaps this time would be different.

When Teddy calls to him he follows the direction in which the other man indicates, curious about the long since faded flecks of paint that still cling to the wood among the trees at a distance from where they stand. His head tips a bit in a sort of noncommittal agreement to the assessment - in a former life, they may have been targets. Now? They were going the way of rot, like the rest of the world.

“Friendly competition?” Henrik repeats curious, soon mimicking the other man’s motions in freeing the bow from it’s place slung across his back. Surely this wasn’t following the silly guidelines of ‘patrol’, but it sounded far more entertaining. And Henrik had already gotten himself in a few spats with the enforcers, anyway - it wasn’t like another mark against him would make much of a difference, would it? “What’s the wager? Ration cards? Shift trades? Or just pride?”

Known more for inarticulate expressions and overly cautious ways, this sudden slacking off in the name of entertainment isn’t typically Teddy’s style. Something warm has a hold on him, though, and being with Mara again leaves him giddy and optimistic in a way he hasn’t felt in years. Coupled with a desire to rebel against Alexei through any small means possible, there’s nothing sweeter than a little competition, especially while he’s meant to be serving their Right Honorable Dictator. The offer of a wager ups the ante, tempts him further — though the thought of taking ration cards from anyone inside of Idaho Falls for fucking sport goes against his morals. “Trading shifts could be interesting,” Teddy agrees, thinking about how nice it would be to be off at the same time as Mara, finally allowed more than a few moments at a time to talk about the last ten years. “Hope you like graveyard hours, Larsen,” he teases, no longer looking at his patrolling partner as they trudge on towards the forgotten targets.

There’s probably twenty or so targets tucked between trees, but it’s nothing like the ranges Teddy’s father used to set up in their neck of the woods to teach his son the basics. Back then, old canning jars on fence posts served them just as well as the painted signs in the trees above Teddy now. With three distinct colors on each target, it should be easy enough to keep track of how accurate each shot is — “I think we could do a point for each in the blue, five for the red, and ten for the yellow.” A quick glance at their respective arrows tells Teddy that they’ll have no trouble telling which are their own as they land in the target, each set distinct in their design. “Most points at the end of the round gets to choose a shift to swap?”

Somehow, time slows to a crawl and speeds up all at once. The seconds tick by like years as Mara stares in disbelief. But the years she’d spent looking for the man before her dissipate into nothing. The journey she’d been on, the miles she’d traveled are nothing to the distance he crosses now to reach her. But words fail her when she needs them most. She can’t even reply as Teddy, oh her sweet, sweet Teddy, looks at her, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst.

It’s been a decade without him and yet, she’d recognize his face anywhere. The gray that colors his hair, his scruffy face – they’re the only signs he’s gotten older. That and the exhaustion that forms light lines by his eyes. Eyes that hold her own as she stares. And stares. And stares. If you’re dreaming, then so am I. But she can’t speak. This is everything she’d hoped for, everything she’d fought for. Everything that’s kept her going. The thought that one day, she’d find him again. That one day she’d feel his arms around her, and she’d feel safe and stronger for it…and now, it seems that day’s arrived. Except she can’t wrap her mind around it.

His touch is the spark she needs, jolting her back to reality, and to the very real fact that he’s here. Teddy is here. Her Teddy. Here. And then she’s in his arms again, and she’s frozen, shell shocked in a way she never thought possible. So many years alone, so many weeks spent journeying from zone to zone, looking for him like a needle in a haystack – and he’d found her. Like he always promised he would if they ever got separated. And he had. He’d found her against all odds and now he was holding her, breathing her in as she stands, stiff as a board, too shocked to react until he pulls back.

When he does, she feels the loss of him as acutely as she had the day they got separated. It’s like cold water dumped over her and Mara finally finds her voice. “Teddy?” Her voice is a hoarse, trembling sound as she says his name aloud, still disbelieving. She feels tears threaten, watery blue eyes staring at him as she fights them back.  Somehow, it doesn’t matter that Abby is right next door, tending to patients. Nothing matters except him. Right now. At this moment. “Oh, Teddy.” Her voice breaks and so does she. She doesn’t think, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as he’d held her a moment before. Mara buries her face against his jacket, buttons pressing into her cheek as she clings to him with shaking arms, unwilling to let go, to risk waking up from this dream. 

His name is the only thing on her lips as she recites it like a poem, like if she stops he’ll disappear and she’ll be alone again. Reaching for a ghost.  But he’s not a ghost. He’s not dead. 

He’s here. 

There’s no privacy here, not really. Even as they hold each other, Teddy admittedly still feels like a trapped little animal. He worries momentarily about what the other medics might hear him say through the door, paranoia settling in and convincing him that they’ve already reported this anomaly to the proper authorities. A small part of him resigns to thinking that Alexei’s people are already on their way to separate him from Mara again, but the raw edge to her voice makes tears well in his tired eyes and it’s impossible to care — if they’re already living on borrowed time, then a few more minutes alone with her are priceless.

To his surprise, no one bursts through either door with guns blazing, no one dares to interrupt them in their desperate clinging to each other. Her face buried into his chest, Teddy strokes Mara’s hair and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “This is so surreal,” he murmurs into her hair, taking her in and noticing for the first time the small details of how she, too, has aged; her long, dark hair is streaked with silver hair like starlight. He feels whole again, body pressed into hers, but he can’t yet fully trust the feeling. “Where have you been all this time, hm?” Teddy knows she won’t be able to give him the full story right here, right now, as much as he wants to dissect the last ten years they’ve spent apart. He has to let go of her to speak to her in their shared, quiet way, but it’s the only chance they’ll have to really talk, at least for now. 

Having a language he can rely on in silence is certainly useful, but knowing well how dictators like Alexei operate, Teddy fears that knowledge of their means of communication would be twisted and used against his family. Using his body to shield his hands from the sight of the exterior windows and door, Teddy signs in his most basic vocabulary. “We need to go somewhere more private.” He knows that as Felix grows older, he’s helped to create a bastardized, vulgar version of the signed language he and Mara created for their hunting trips, gone and added all these new words she won’t yet know — he’s a bit embarrassed imagining her eventual reaction to Felix’s inventively colorful language.

MAY 18. 1.5 MILES OUTSIDE IDAHO FALLS. @henriklarsen​

Outside the walls, Teddy feels light enough to breathe again. There’s no denying the odd comfort of being somewhere where at least he knows what dangers lurk. No stranger to quarantine zones and their typical patrol system, Teddy tries to keep his head down, follow orders, avoid drawing suspicion now that his little family is finally reunited. In the few weeks since he and Felix arrived, he’s kept a close eye on the soldiers he’s paired to work with, trying to sniff out who might be whispering in Alexei’s ear. He’s liable to trust a fellow outsider more than anyone who’s got a real life inside the walls. 

A certain understanding seems to develop between these two newcomer soldiers as they scan the perimeter — they’re here to do their job, then get the fuck out. Though today, a new assignment on their rounds brings he and Henrik to what must be an old training area, the faded paint of the crumbling, wooden targets nearly gone, only just visible against the trees some distance away. Squinting to confirm what he suspects, Teddy hesitates before calling to his patrol partner behind him. “Hey,” he says, turning to face Henrik. “Do those look like targets to you?”

Considering he hasn’t gotten a chance to use his bow since recruitment, a small part of Teddy itches to let some arrows fly. His fingers already reach for the bow slung on his back, overeager despite what the repercussions of slacking off on the job might be— though Henrik doesn’t exactly seem like the type to snitch. He nods towards the bow slung on the other man’s back and asks, “are you up for a little friendly competition?”