It was like waking up from a bad dream, right where they had begun, everyone standing in the backroom like all they had done was blinked. People scattered in their own directions and Ray was left holding Daniel's hand, defensive at every sound, suspicious beyond belief.

He muttered to Daniel to stay close but when he looked down, he saw watery eyes looking back up at him, tired and scared, like they had been for God only knew how long. So Ray carried him instead, out of the arcade and into the light of a setting sun. Just because it looked like home - as much as it could in the month of December - didn't mean it was home.

Instinct pointed them in the direction of the Compound. His bicep ached, bruised but the cut was healing, so he shifted Daniel over to this other side, reaching for the gun tucked at the back of his belt with his free hand. A gun he hoped to hell would work here if needed. He held it up in front of them as he moved, the exertion of a stance he knew so well evident on his face.