Rick was trapped in Monica’s arms, carried as if he were a bride, and entirely unable to escape. There was little he could do but stick to the ride. The rain buffeted them as she crossed the forest at dizzying speed, each step a lurching acceleration that made his stomach twist into knots. The most jarring part was the realization that she was holding back. Once she’d attempted to move faster, but everything within Rick’s body screamed in complaint.

Wordlessly, Monica adjusted how she moved, being more careful.

And yet, even then, distances that would’ve taken Rick hours she crossed in minutes, slippery roots or muddy ground weren’t even an inconvenience. Her claws sank into tree bark and found purchase with every step. She straight up didn’t need to touch the ground. The branches and canopy of the overgrown forest provided her with everything she needed to move, unperturbed.

Sometimes she would detour for some unknown reason; other times she’d stop, clench Rick against her expansive chest and roar, waiting for several minutes before moving again. Her eyes were constantly staring above into the stormy clouds, and something about it was making her nervous.

Whatever was going on, Monica had made sure they did not stumble onto anything else.

And all the while, the young teacher was little more than a passive passenger. It was as if he weighed nothing on her.

Rick had thought about making Monica turn around. But how? And to do what? The river was too wide for her to safely cross. Even then, it was abundantly clear it would be a cold day in hell before she’d let him search for some spot further up or down that might let them try. He’d fought, he’d dragged his feet, and he’d tried to run.

The feline had only needed to not let go, and that was that.

She wasn’t going to let him even try.

And he knew why; he sensed it oozing from her every move, the concern that burned within her. It made her tighten her grip on him with every bounce, and slow down before every curve. It was why she’d stop and stare at the sky as she hid under the trees from time to time. Each time she’d wait under a branch, she would look down at Rick, blue-green eyes wide and pained. She’d nuzzle her face against his chest, her ears batting against his chin.

Little consolation, in the end.

Tomas and Kat were dead, and he wasn’t even sure how he’d manage to get to civilization. His mind listlessly went through the motions. Monica was unlikely to let him leave until whatever was making her nervous was gone, he’d have to go back to the farm once the flooding was over. How long would that be? A week? Two? Could he survive that long? Perhaps. He was certain Monica would help in some way.

But everyone in the bus would not be able to last that long.

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That meant his only option was to return to them. Tell them about everything, try to convince them to come.

How many more would die because of him? Their food must be running out, would they even be able to make the trip to the abandoned farm? His gut wrenched at the thought, he wanted to scream, he wanted to-.

“Rick?”

Monica spoke the word, her arms hugged him tightly against her chest. The woman frowned weakly, pulling him up and licking his cheek. The human could only nod a little and look away.

Night was falling, they were drenched, and he was getting cold.

Rick caught sight of the cave, Monica’s cave, a warm light flickered from inside, a fire. The young teacher couldn’t process things in time, Monica had moved straight towards it without so much as a sound.

Mr. Gabriel and the mouse both were startled, the small woman leapt and clenched herself against the older man, hiding behind him with a shriek. Monica cared little for either, dropping Rick to the ground and moving him closer to the fire. She lay behind him, wrapping his body tightly in a hug to cover for the side that wasn’t exposed to the warmth of the flames.

The older man sat up, eyes brightening before a suspicious frown followed. “Where is…?”

Trapped between Monica’s arms, shuddering, Rick met the old man’s gaze, and slowly shook his head.

Silence fell in the cave, and Mr. Gabriel sat down. The frown deepening.

There was the slightest crease to his brows, the older man’s focus shifted down to the flickering flames. “I see.” A long silence followed, and his wrinkled hands tightened around the stick he’d been using to move the wood in the fire. “I’d suggest removing those wet clothes, before you catch pneumonia.”

The human nodded and limply moved to comply, Monica appeared to guess at his intent and loosened her grip enough for him to wriggle out of his shorts and shirt. “Rick,” she said, tugging his half-naked body against hers once more and using her wet arms to squeeze him close. Despite her drenched status, Monica was warm, her body seemed to have its own inner furnace. The fire Mr. Gabriel had made being equally helpful.

The older male wouldn’t turn away from the flames, his focus distant and cold. “How?” He finally spoke, not having moved from his spot.

“Flash flood, we tried to escape, got trapped in an abandoned house. It collapsed.”

With a slow deep shuddering breath, the man nodded numbly. “Did you see a body?”

“… no. The river likely took them.”

The barest of shivers went through Mr. Gabriel; he closed his eyes and sighed. There was the barest constraint at the corners of his eyes, his hand slowly moving down and caressing the tail of the mouse woman that still hid behind him and away from Monica.

No more words were spoken that night.

Mr. Gabriel kept the fire lit throughout the night, the pile of sticks and branches that lay next to him slowly dwindling with every passing hour. Rick couldn’t bring himself to sleep, despite the exhaustion, his mind refused to rest. The teacher kept glancing at Mr. Gabriel as the older man’s focus barely left the fire.

“Mati always did joke I’d outlive everyone.” The older man spoke, breaking the silence. He’d not turned towards Rick, the words appearing meant more for himself than anyone. A strain in the corner of his eyes and a tightness in the man’s throat.

Rick wanted to speak, to apologize, to say something. He did not find the strength.

“Ga.”

The voice startled them both, Mr. Gabriel glanced at the mouse woman. She was looking up at him with those wide eyes, her hands clenching his arm tightly.

“Don’t worry, little one.” He patted her head, soothing her to lay against his lap. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The hours bled by, both men quietly lay in the darkness, the fire crackling between them. Not another word was spoken, the only sound the rain outside, the crackling flames, and Monica’s light snores.

It would not be until morning that the lull would be disturbed.