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He sways on his feet, remembering how he earned that scar the first time, and it had been the very first time . Hears that man’s drunken voice and smells the scent of whiskey that crackles up his nostrils like a switch crackling through humid air.

“Cole? Can I come in?”

“I’m fine,” he lies. “Gimme a minute.”

Her shadow darkens the threshold, but she doesn’t ask again.

He shoves a towel into the wall and pushes his back against it to stem the flow, just as he had done years ago when he was left to suffer and heal alone in his room, coughing up water and bleeding onto his bed sheets.

Couldn’t reach it then either. He was always surprised that it healed over at all, but the marks left behind were proof he needed more medical care than he ever got.

Slowly, he slides down until his ass hits the ground, towel firmly against his back and head in his hands. Tries to push his memories to the back burner and get his shit together. This isn’t the time to fall apart. It’s been forever. It’s over. Done.

That asshole was just some guy with a knife. It wasn’t personal.

He can’t hide away in here forever when he’s got other people to think about and that’s the only thing that gets him on his feet again with a pained groan.

“Can you hand me the bag with the supplies?” he asks sheepishly through the door.

She would help him, but he can’t let her. Not yet, maybe not ever.

When she cracks the door and offers the bag, he can’t even meet her eyes. He only takes the supplies and shuts it again, dousing himself with peroxide that makes him see stars and somehow securing a sticky bandage on his back after a game of twister.

Her face only holds concern and her eyes sympathy that he doesn’t want or deserve when he leaves the protective bathroom cocoon.

“Shouldn’t have left you out here like this, with him. Wasn’t thinking.”

“We’re okay. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up fine.” The gaping slash across the fabric he wears, rimmed in red, proves he’s nowhere near fine. The cat wraps around his legs, squeaking out a half a silent meow and he huffs a sound of amusement. “Good to see you’re fine, too.”

“What do you think he wanted?” Olivia says, quietly.

“Probably the same thing we do. Food. Somewhere to sleep. I don’t think he was planning on finding us.”

Cole killed him anyway. He forced a confrontation with his gun and once the fight started, once Lucy gave away their hiding spot in the closet, there was no turning back. It didn’t matter then if this guy was decent or not. Couldn’t risk giving him a chance.

“You had no choice,” she tells him, as if she can see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “You were protecting us.”

He isn’t a killer, except now he is and he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. No regrets. Cole shivers at the memory of the man rushing toward the closet at the first hint of something innocent behind it.

“Let’s get out of here,” he grunts, ready to leave this house, the dead body, and the nightmares suffered within its walls behind.

* * *

It’s still dark outside, with only the barest sparkle of sunlight peaking over the horizon when they leave the house in search of greener, more secluded pastures.

The first few miles pass in silence. No trace of that easy teasing he was starting to like, and that’s his fault for behaving like a lion with a thorn in his paw. He can’t blame her for not wanting to risk him lashing out.

His back aches, leaving him unable to get comfortable. The sticky part of the bandage caught a split part of his wound, tugging every time he shifts and making him wish it were easier to accept help.

“Can we pull over? I need to pee,” she says.

He finds a spot and pulls the car onto the shoulder, getting an armful of Lucy while Olivia heads for a bush.

“Don’t go far,” he calls out. “I wanna see the top of your head or a hand or something.”

She sticks her hand out with a wave. “This is a weird yoga position.”

He huffs, glancing down at Lucy, who doesn’t seem to be an early riser. He thought babies stayed awake most of the night. She gets up more than a few times to eat, but given the chance, she’ll sleep in like she’s doing now. It’s one of the last peaceful sights left in a ruined world .

“Your momma’s silly,” he whispers, watching her face turn into his chest, seeking out the warmth. “I’m screwing up here again. Can’t seem to stop doing that.”

She offers no suggestions and when he looks up to check in on Olivia, she’s already slipping into the passenger side and leaning her head against the seat with a sigh.

“I sometimes forget that there’s still plenty of other people left who aren’t as helpful as the care home was. He won’t be the last one we run into.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you or her.”

“I know, but I need to be able to help. Sometimes I’ll have to hide with her, but if we’re in a situation where I can, then I want to. I was about five seconds from trying to do something back there and I don’t know if I actually could have. I don’t like feeling helpless.”

“You’ve got some serious skills with a frying pan already.”

She cracks a half grin. “There won’t always be a skillet nearby.”

“I can show you a few things. Where to hit if you have to? How to slip out of someone’s grip. Only if you’re feeling up for it.”

“I am.”

“We gotta get one thing straight, though. You don’t use anything I show you to help me. Not ever. Something happens and I’m hurt and there’s even the smallest fucking chance you’ll get hurt too, then you stay hiding. Run the other way. Leave me behind. You got it?”

She hesitates. “I can’t promise tha—”

“Then I won’t show you. You have to swear you’ll only use it to defend yourself, not me. It’s not your job to keep me safe. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it. ”

“What if I want to protect Flower?” she deadpans.

He doesn’t take the bait. “I’m being serious right now.”

Reluctantly, Olivia nods, though he has his doubts about her follow-through. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

“Okay. Next time we settle in somewhere, I’ll show you how to use the gun too, but that’s only for emergencies. It’s too damn loud.”

She offers him a tentative smile, her gaze shifting to Lucy sleeping peacefully in his arms. “Go team.”

“See, told you your momma’s silly,” he says to the baby.

Olivia’s smile only gets brighter, her next offer careful even if he can tell how much she wants him to say yes. “I can drive for a while. Just point me in the right direction.”

He agrees without a fuss, switches places with her, and wraps that sling around himself for Lucy to sleep in.

It’s not as safe as a car seat, but better than nothing.

He’s free to fidget as much as he needs now, too, and doesn’t have to rest his back against the seat, so he leans on the door instead, grateful Olivia doesn’t comment.

He’s going to teach her how to fight and make sure she can protect that baby if something happens to him. Today served as a reminder of how possible that is.