Apocalypse [Pentatonix AU | Kavi / Scomiche]

Chapter 29 - Remedy

"We need to get on the road again soon," Scott said, rubbing his hands together in front of the fire they'd made for the night. The sun had set around an hour ago, and now the group, with the exception of Kevin, was sat in the center of the tent compound they'd set up few days ago.

"You're right," Kirstie agreed. "We've been here too long, and it's anything but secure. We're lucky to be alive right now. If a herd were to pass through the camp, there's no chance we could survive. We need to move."

Avi shook his head. "We can't force Kevin to leave. He doesn't seem like he's mentally ready to start moving on yet. It's only been two days, he needs time to mourn."

"I understand that," Mitch added softly. "But from personal experience," he cleared his throat, "you need to move on. And for Kevin, I think it would be good for him to keep going. Distract himself."

"Is he eating yet?" Kirstie asked Avi.

"Barely anything. Hasn't spoken yet either." In unison the group turned toward Kevin's tent, which was a few yards away, the flap closed and the lights out inside. He hadn't emerged in days, and only Avi had gone in to see him.

A silence enveloped the group. Scott had noticed Avi's hand move to Kirstie's knee, reaffirming his suspicions that something was going on between them. Instinctively he looked over toward Mitch, whose eyes were focused on the fire in front of them. He looked hungry, tired, worn, yet still somehow beautiful.

"Oh," Scott suddenly said, breaking the silence. "I have something I've been meaning to show ya'll. I'll be right back."

He hurried into his tent, grabbing the guitar that he'd propped up next to his bed, then returned to the group. Avi immediately perked up.

"I found it the other day in one of the cars on the highway. I sure as hell don't know how to play it, but was wondering if any of ya'll did?"

Avi nodded eagerly. "I do."

"Thank god," Scott smiled, handing it over.

Avi shook his head in disbelief as Scott sat, running his fingers across the nylon strings that ran up and down the instrument. A large smile was pulling at his lips. "Never thought I'd see one of these again," he mumbled.

After he'd taken a second to admire the guitar, his fingers wrapped around the neck, forming a chord, and he strummed softly. The harmony rang throughout the group's ears, sending chills down each of their spines. They'd all been deprived of music for so long.

Avi laughed, shaking his head. "Wow."

"Play a song," murmured Kirstie.

Avi's brow furrowed together as he thought of what he should play. Finally he gave a nod and began strumming some quiet chords in a minor key. Mitch looked up in recognition.

"I learned this one right before it all," Avi said, continuing to play. "Forget the name, though. Can't remember any of the lyrics either."

"Graveyard," Mitch said. "That's the name of the song. I've heard it before."

Avi continued to play with a small smile, and suddenly Mitch began to sing.

The lyrics were ironically perfect, and Scott wondered if Avi had subconsciously chosen the song for the reason. But he only wondered for a moment before he was completely mesmerized by Mitch's voice. It was absolutely stunning, as gorgeous as he was. He sounded like an actual angel, and Scott could only just sit there, his mouth slightly agape.

The song carried on, and Scott realized he knew it as well. He'd heard it along with Kirstie while they were working as interns at the CDC, years ago. He looked over toward her, and noticed she was smiling at him, nodding her head slightly.

So when Mitch arrived at the chorus, Scott and Kirstie added their harmonies above his. Mitch looked shocked but only for a moment, then continued singing, smiling toward Scott. They four of them finished the song together, the space sounding even emptier than before after Avi had strummed the final chord. It felt as if they were holding their breath.

"That was beautiful," a scratchy voice said from behind them.

They hadn't noticed Kevin, who was standing silently at the entrance of his tent, tears in his dark eyes. He approached slowly, arms hanging limply at his sides. The rest of the group stayed frozen, eyeing Kevin cautiously, as if he would completely shatter at any moment.

"We need to go to the Center for Disease Control," Kevin finally said.

Scott's eyes widened. He cleared his throat, standing. "Kevin, we can't. It imploded, I'm sorry."

Kevin was shaking his head. "Not the Quarantine Station, the facility in Atlanta." His eyes turned toward Avi. "You were right, last year. It's our last hope, our only hope. I can finally see that now."

Avi stood as well, eyes clouded with sadness. "Kevin, no. I wasn't right. We never got there, and I realized too late that it was for the best. You were the one who was right. It's probably overrun, it's probably completely wiped out, it's-"

"It's our only hope," Kevin repeated. "I have nothing else to live for. I need this."

Avi pursed his lips then sighed as he nodded toward Scott, who took a deep breath. "Okay. Tomorrow, we leave."

After some more brief conversation, and after hugs were exchanged with Kevin, the group dispersed, heading back toward each of their individual tents with the exception of Scott, who had the first shift of the night.

Immediately overwhelmed by loneliness, Scott glanced back toward Mitch's tent. The lantern inside was still lit, indicating that he was still awake. Without really thinking, Scott made his way over toward the tent, standing outside the front.

"Mitch?" He said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Scott entered the tent, looking around. It was about the same size as his, but Mitch's was more neatly kept, with his backpack and clothes in one corner and the sleeping bag in another. Mitch was sitting on a crate he'd found, but stood when Scott came in.

"Your voice, it's... it's kind of completely incredible."

Mitch smiled half-heartedly. "Thanks. I didn't really know if I could still sing like that, I haven't sang in so long. Glad I've still got it."

"'Still got it' is beyond an understatement. You're voice, Mitch, it's honestly one of the best I've ever heard, genuinely."

This earned an actual giggle from Mitch. "Understatement or not, now I think you're exaggerating. But thank you, regardless."

"I'm really not, Mitch," Scott said, inching closer. "You're perfect." His eyes drifted to his lips, which were chapped and parted slightly. Mindlessly he raised his hand to cup his cheek, but Mitch turned his head away, stepping back.

"Scott, I can't," he whispered.

"Please," was all Scott could think to say. Pride no longer held any meaning.

"I can't." Tears brimmed in his eyes and he looked away. "I'm sorry."

Scott understood. Travis might be dead, but he wasn't gone. He'd never be truly gone for Mitch. So now all he could do was help him move on, in any way he could. And Scott was more than willing; he'd do anything for Mitch.

Anything.