A short oneshot to make up for a lack of updates on "But It's Better If You Do." I found this piece to be a bit too dark to really fit with that series so I stuck it on its own. Takes place in the future.

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It's cold.

The mud caked to her arms is starting to make her nauseous again. She takes a moment to find a proper corner in the storage trailer, and dry heaves – there is nothing left in her stomach to expel.

"Rachel, are you okay?" He's rubbing her back, circles just like she told him would help. Rachel lets him ease her against one of the walls of their temporary protection from the rain, her attention now on her swollen abdomen as she idly rubs it. Three more months, she keeps chanting in her head.

"I'm fine, Gary. How are you?" She's too good to him sometimes. Gary sees right through her half-smile, glances down at her very pregnant form. He tentatively reaches out to place his hand on hers.

He's been doing that a lot, the comforting touches. Like before. Before...before this, she realizes, staring down at her abdomen.

"Are you hungry? I can get you something. It's not going to be Persian, but I can get you something. I'll try to get something healthy. For the baby. And you. Mothers need healthy things to eat." There's blood under his fingernails, and for a horrifying second, Rachel thinks about Anna. She thinks about scavenging the wrecked warehouse, seeing the dark haired woman, Gary's friend, on the ground, hair fanned around her, arms out, dead. Dead, dead, dead. (Everyone just dies on you, don't they?)

She thinks about the Gary from before, the one who was huddled in the back of the van, not talking, just wanting to go home, too scarred by the reality he had seen. She's not sure whether it's good or bad that Gary no longer does that in the face of death.

"Rachel?" Without thinking, Rachel reaches up, hand on Gary's cheek now. He seems surprised by the action, but doesn't pull away, not like before.

"I'm sorry." Dr. Rosen use to tell her she apologized too much. Not anymore. He can't tell her anything now. Gary's eyebrows furrow, his hand on hers, the one still on her belly, starts to pull away, and Rachel fears she's starting to lose him again.

"For what?"

"For this. For everything. I could've done something, I should have!" Some might consider her a masochist. Gary's eyes are a bit wide. His hand sits back on her midsection, firm.

"It's not your fault. Not the baby or what happened to everyone. It's not your fault, Rachel, okay? You need to stop beating yourself up because other people do it enough." And that's the Gary Rachel remembers, the one that makes her crack a smile.

She nods, tries to smile, and all that comes out is some sort of choking sound that makes her feel so damn weak. Gary seems to understand her sudden mood swing, because he doesn't fitfully pull away when she leans in to hug him. He starts rubbing circles on her back again, and even though Rachel can't see, she's sure Gary's eyes are wandering all around the trailer, unable to look at her, not really anyway.

"It's going to be okay." His voice is seemingly flat, but she knows he means it with conviction, and it's enough of a comfort (despite how well she knows otherwise) that Rachel nods assured into his chest.

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What's going on? Tell me what you think - I intentionally left a lot of things open for interpretation.