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“Fuck this pudding,” he scowls, angry at himself for noticing her like this at all, and lashing out at the food as a diversion. He tosses the empty cup onto the table and flushes a shade of red when he spies her curious, confused stare. “Too much sugar. Not healthy.”

That was lame as hell and she knows it. “For someone who’s not a pudding fan, you sure did eat it all.”

“Can’t waste food.”

“Mhmm.”

“When I first heard her in the subway.” He tilts his head toward the baby, reaching for any conversation that can serve as a distraction. “I thought she was a kitten.”

Olivia shakes her head with a sad smile. “Bet you wish you found a baby cat instead, huh?”

“ Must be feeling better if you took your own IV out?”

Cole’s saved by a new voice that startles Olivia into moving a few inches closer. “Andrew’s a nurse. Took good care of you when we got here.”

“Oh. Thank you. I’m feeling much better.”

“That’s good news. You were pretty out of it at first, but nothing some rest and food won’t fix. Try to up your protein intake and no sex for at least six weeks.”

He rattles off instructions the way medical staff often does, assuming everything is fair game to talk about. That last line was delivered directly to him, and Cole bristles at what feels like a clear insult.

“What kinda jerk do you think I am that you even gotta say that?” he growls.

Andrew holds up his hands in surrender, his eyes traveling to the bruises on Olivia’s arms. “It’s standard advice.”

“It’s not what you think,” Olivia tries. “Cole isn’t the one who—”

“None of my business. As I said, just standard instructions. You got a perfect storm right now that landed you in that bed. Take care of yourself, okay?

He means well. Probably thought he was doing her a favor by telling him outright he shouldn’t try anything when he thinks she can’t say it herself, but the whole room is stuck in a thick, awkward haze and if Cole could crawl through the floor to escape, he would.

“I’m trying to. It’s rough out there,” Olivia replies. “The world is sort of ending, you know?”

“I’ve noticed. Fair point. You two got enough food? Need anything?”

“We’re good,” Cole answers.

“Bedside manner is lacking,” she says after they’re alone again. “But could be worse. I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that. ”

He hums out an absent sound. “It’s fine.”

“Are we staying for a while?”

“Few days for sure. He’s right, you need the rest. We both do, but we don’t know them yet.”

She nods, glancing toward the hall. “Are we prisoners? Can we move around?”

“I don’t get that vibe, but you heard the orders. Gotta rest.”

“I can’t sit here all day. My legs will go numb. I’m good for a short walk. Let’s check this place out?”

He relents because, of course he does. After she spends a few minutes using that fancy running water to clean up the baby, they head out into the hall.

They haven’t taken his weapons, which is either a show of trust or a massive oversight. Thankfully, he hasn’t needed to use them yet, but the weight of his pistol is a welcome reassurance. He sticks as close to Olivia as he can without tripping her. If she minds, she doesn’t say.

He’s certain that he looks about as stupid now as he did in that alley, growling about not touching his wife.

When they wander into an auditorium filled with people, Olivia and the baby may as well be a cure for the virus for how quickly the patients flock to them, lavishing attention on Lucy, who responds with one of those gassy smiles.

“You a hostage, too?”

It’s a joking question asked by a man at the opposite end of a game of checkers.

“Better not be,” Cole replies. “You are?”

“Nah. I got separated from my people. Tried to loot this place a few days ago and now…here I am.”

“They’re treating you, okay?”

“Sure. Dunno why. Figured every decent person was long dead by now.”

Cole squints. “Does that mean you aren’t decent? Did they make a mistake in helping you?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I’m grateful and I’m sure you are, too.” His eyes dart back and forth as if searching for ghosts in the shadows.

He tries not to judge based on appearances.

Cole knows how easy is it to assume the worst about him, from the tattoos running a sleeve up his left arm, the permanent disgruntlement on his face, and how quick he is to anger.

He and Wade have been on the receiving end of plenty of glares, all earned by simply existing.

That doesn’t mean he can’t spot a junkie when he sees one, and this guy is definitely jonesing for a fix.

“Feeling okay?” Cole states plainly.

He’s given a shifty nod in return.

The man opposite the checkers board kindly pats his opponent’s hand. “Waylon here is getting clean. Everyone deserves a chance, even in a world like this.”

Waylon bristles. “Damn, nothing’s private, I guess.”

Cole shrugs. “Not my business. Was good to meet you.”

He doesn’t waste time in collecting Olivia and the baby and herding them back to the room again before laying out the details of that exchange.

“None of this sounds good.” She winces.

“Nope. I mean, it’s an admirable thing to do, but he’ll turn on them soon and we shouldn’t be here when it goes down. He has people out there. This place has enough drugs in it to kill ten elephants. No chance they won’t try to take it when they show up.”

He’s not one to hide from every threat. In other circumstances, he might help these folks out when the time comes, but taking chances isn’t something he’s willing to do anymore. He’s got one mission at the moment, keep his wife and baby safe, and anything that conflicts with that is a problem.

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” she agrees.

“Yeah. Tomorrow. I was hoping for longer, but I got a weird feeling.”

“Maybe…it’s not a bad idea to stay married,” Olivia says suddenly, sending him a tentative but hopeful glance. “I was going to set them straight, and I still will about certain things, but I’d feel a lot safer if everyone thought we were together. This group and anyone else we meet.”

“Pffft. Some shitty proposal right there.”

She gasps, a full white-toothed smile blooming on her lips that he hasn’t seen before. “I was barely even awake when you married us! Not very romantic on your part, either.”

“Alright, alright. You wanna stay fake married, I’m in.”

“Thanks, honey. Sweetie. Darling.”

He scowls. “Already regretting this.”

Her laughter makes it worth it, though. He wants to keep hearing that musical sound. Likes that she’s comfortable enough to joke with him, and hates that he enjoys it even one tiny bit.

This is all practical, he rationalizes. Smart. She sees the value in projecting themselves as a unit.

“Did you ask them about your friend?”

He frowns. “They haven’t seen him.

“I know you must be worried.”

“It is what it is. Wade can take care of himself. I gotta believe that.”

“If he’s even a little like you, then I know that’s true,” she says softly.

Wade would deny that being like him is anything to aim for, but Olivia thinks it is.

He’s sure as hell doing a shit job of keeping them both at arm’s length, he thinks. Got fake married already. Worries about them like he cares, which he absolutely does not. Olivia gazes at him like Lucy did before, as if she’s imprinted on him too.

The most surprising part is that only half of him wants to fight it.

He’ll have to get a handle on this going forward or he’s only setting himself up for depression, regret, and self-doubt when they inevitably go their separate ways.

He’s not stupid enough to think she’ll want anything to do with him once he’s no longer needed for protection.