The whole idea of waiting it out on a yacht was valid. However, only in theory. It turned out those things (after couple of attacks, they quit seeing the humans in them) could swim. They couldn't actually swim, but water could not stop them as believed.

In time, their ragtag group merged with another one. After all the running, fighting, killing and dying, now it counted 14 members.

Chris and Alicia did talk in the broad sense of the word. They exchanged information if need be. To compensate for not in fact talking about what had happened, they bickered when left alone for long. The rest of the group had too much on their plate to think twice about the pair of squabbling teens. For the parents, it seemed probably like the only thing that had not changed. How naïve they were…

Naturally, the passive-aggressive facade was taking the toll on both of them. Alicia had hard time coping with her new role in the world as it was. She used to be the overachiever, the stable one. Nobody had to take care of her. Now the tables have turned. She was the fish out of water. Nick fit in like he was born for it. No, she couldn't accept that and more than once caused more problems than helped. She was the weak link. They put her on the fucking housewife duty - sorting out and mending clothes, and cleaning. That was what her bright future came down to.

For Chris, the new normal included living with the notion that his father had killed his mother. It took time to realize what the alternative would have been. Still, it didn't mean it hurt less. Mending a relationship with a parent proved to be less difficult than he imagined. They were stuck together and he couldn't stand to watch his father suffer. Maybe it was restitution or maybe guilt but he let Mr. Salazar teach Chris how to properly defend himself. Mr. Salazar was the force to be reckoned with and surprisingly patient teacher. But Chris didn't have the knack for the killing – a skill that he had never before believed could be useful. Being a trusty pacifist was a wrong thing to be in the apocalyptic world. So he was spending most of the time tinkering around mechanics; it was where he could try to sort out his thoughts if only for a moment.

It had been more than six weeks and less than three months since they were on the road. Keeping track of time was proving to be a nearly impossible task.

Alicia and Ofelia were scavenging through the trunk of an abandoned car looking for anything they could use when Chris stomped past them.

"What's with him?"

"Beats me."

"I thought you two were close."

Alicia's eyes followed Chris as he climbed into the back of the pick-up truck, "There were moments."

Ofelia placed something like a walkie-talkie in her hand, "Take this to him to see if it's salvageable." Ofelia was not stupid but wasn't subtle either.

Alicia rolled her eyes, though the smirk was playing on her lips. She wouldn't make a big deal out of nothing, "Fine."

Alicia walked up to him in a manner similar to his own mere minutes ago. She rested against the truck and extended her hand, "What do we do with this?"

As if he just realized someone was there he jerked his head, "Hm? Oh… let's see." he turned the bolts (the screwdriver was at all times at his belt). His brows knitted in concentration, fingers skillfully twisting the wires and binding them. He was good with his hands.

Alicia pushed the memory of his hands where it belonged, at the back of the mind. She turned away and leaned against the bumper, "I'll just go… I'm sure there is a button somewhere in need of sewing." she said the last part sardonically.

"Alicia?" she turned swiftly surprised by his call. She couldn't remember the last time he called her by the name, "Want to talk about it?"

She quirked her eyebrows, "Do you want to talk about whatever's got you staring at the sky?" his lack of answered pleased her, "Than there you go."

"Come on." Chris patted the metal floor, "Hop on."

Her lips twitched upwards as she did.

Sitting together like that was strange. He was tapping his fingernails nervously against the plastic walkie. She was playing with the strand of her hair that was always sticking to her neck. They were both looking in front of them.

"I found a dress back there. Disgustingly pink."

"A dress? Why would anyone pack that?"

"Sentimental reasons, I guess." Alicia answered as she traced the curving lines of her tattoo, "I would be looking for a prom dress right about now… Instead, I'm doing nothing."

"I could teach you some basic defense moves. Mr. Salazar showed me some tricks."

She smiled. They haven't talked in so long yet he knew her. Somehow, at that moment those were the words she needed (not the blatant lies like 'It will get better' or 'You are useful here').

"So?"

"So…" she squinted, "What?"

"The prom dress? What would it be like?"

"You want to talk about prom?! The one that will never happen? I doubt that's a healthy attitude to have in this situation."

"Only if you look at it like that." he missed normal, they could both use something remotely normal, "I see it as an alternative universe thing."

"And you called me a geek." she raised her hands, "Fine. But only if you do it too."

"It's a deal."

"Mid-thigh dress. Indigo. Two weeks in Mexico. Then, most importantly, Berkley." she was trying not to be wistful.

"Look on the bright side. Two years from now you would have had to see me at the same school. This will not last that long."

"Incorrigibly optimistic." she grinned then tilted her head, "I guess I would have had to show you around."

"What would have your college friends say about hanging out with a freshman?!" he exclaimed in mock bewilderment.

"We'd go out every week just to spite them."

"Just to spite them?" he felt the need to challenge her. It was almost like the old times.

She pursed her lips. Should she say something? What happened to make him spark this kind of conversation? She couldn't be sure, "Not just."

He placed his hand on hers, thumb resting above the fluttering of her wrist, "I missed you." he admitted, voice barely above the whisper.

The blood rushed to her head, the pulse increased and God he surely could feel it, "Me too." she mouthed.

The conversation altered its' course with no warning. His throat was closing, he wasn't sure if all the words would be able to come out, "I'm sorry if I was an asshole the last time."

"You were." he chuckled at that, "But I get it."

"Did you mean it?" Chris asked cautiously, looking if they had enough privacy. Ofelia was near but wasn't paying attention to them.

There was no point in pretending. She was ready to clear the air. She closed her eyes, "Yes." the word sounded more like spite, it felt safer than the naked truth.

He pressed her forehead against hers, "I was losing my mind without you."

A moment later their lips met. It was gentle and honest.

This ends the 5+1 thing. It felt out of character for them to talk it out and I thought this way was better. Hope you like the story. Thank you for all the kind words