Diego drove Estela and Winston back to the police station in silence. The car ride was tense, to say the least.

Winston didn't understand how they could both give up so easily when they were so close. He didn't exactly know what they were close to finding, but he had a feeling it would've been important.

He kept thinking about the bag of leftovers Deputy Standall brought down with him. If Deputy Standall didn't come back out with it, then why did he bring it down there in the first place? Was he stocking some survival shelter? Or was he feeding something or someone?

Winston shoved his thoughts away when Diego turned the corner and pulled into the police station parking lot. Diego came to a stop at Winston's car.

"Sorry today didn't go exactly as planned, brother." Diego apologized.

"I'm not your fucking brother." Winston retorted as he got out of the car, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Winston didn't look back, but he could feel Diego and Estela's eyes on him as he got into his car and drove out of the parking lot.

When he got home, he ran upstairs to his room and walked over to his desk that was usually used for homework. He saw Monty's journal resting on top of it.

His fingers brushed against the front cover of it, before anger overtook him. With a cry of frustration and one swipe of his arm, all the items on his desk were forcefully pushed off of it and fell to the carpeted floor. He backed up into the wall, surprised by what he had just done. Tears streamed down his face as he slid down it and buried his face in his knees.

Why!? Why did Monty have to die? They were supposed to be happy and get out of this town. Together. He couldn't stop the thoughts from racing throughout his mind.

He was glad his parents were away that night as he began to sob loudly. After a few minutes of crying, Winston looked up and glanced over at the mess he'd made. He crawled over to where his belongings had landed on the floor. He slowly picked them all up, until one remained. Monty's journal.

Winston sank to the floor and stared at it for the longest time. Before he could stop himself, he opened it. He skipped past the pages he'd already read at Rosie's diner and found the one with the 'W' heart on it. The fact that Monty had drawn that made Winston want to cry again. He pushed it back, however, and flipped to the next page after that.

'I can't put into words how Winston makes me feel. He's oxygen after a lifetime of not being able to breathe. He's a drink of water after traveling for days in a desert. He's peace after being at war for years. I've been at war with myself for the longest time, but for the first time, I feel like I know the way I can win it. Everything feels right with him and I know that as long as he's here, I'm going to be okay.'

Winston put his hand over his mouth to cover up the sound of his sobs. He felt so guilty that he hadn't been there for Monty in his last few days alive.

After a few moments of sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, silently crying, he closed the journal as an idea came into his mind. He stood up and rushed downstairs. He slipped his coat on and grabbed his keys.

Winston dashed out to his car and drove out of his driveway. Soon he was passing by the police station for what felt like the thousandth time that night. He followed the way Diego drove when they were watching Deputy Standall go into the woods. He pulled in a lot closer, since there was no need to hide from anyone this time.

He shivered as he stepped out of his car and walked further into the trees. There was something unsettling about these woods that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He made his way to the same opening in the ground that Deputy Standall had gone in.

Winston was thankful there was no lock on the hatch as he reached to open it. It was a lot heavier than he anticipated and he had to use both arms to eventually heave it open.

There was a ladder that lead to what looked like an underground bunker. He stared down into it and immediately became curious as to what was hidden beneath.

He climbed down the ladder and found himself in a room with a twin bed, shelves of food, and a bathroom door. He looked over at the bed and realized that the same bag of leftovers was on it, but it looked as though it had been opened. There was an empty to-go box resting against the bag.

He cautiously walked closer to the bed and looked it over. It was messily done, almost as if someone had just gotten out of it. For some reason, Winston felt the need to straighten the blanket. As he reached for the covering, he suddenly pulled his hands back, alarmed. The bed was still warm.

He backed up in shock as he realized that he wasn't alone in the bunker. He was about to run back to the ladder, climb out, and never come back, when the bathroom door opened.

Monty and Winston's eyes locked and for a moment, time completely stopped.

"W-Winston?" Monty asked in shock.

Winston didn't answer, he was too busy gaping at the person he thought was dead.

Monty stepped forward at the same time Winston did. They met each other in the middle and threw their arms around each other.

"Oh my god." Winston sobbed out.

Monty held onto him so tightly that Winston felt like he couldn't breathe, but he didn't care. They pulled back and stared into each other's eyes.

"I thought you were dead. I never thought I'd see you again." Winston said as he reached up to grab the back of Monty's neck. He leaned their foreheads together.

Monty gripped Winston's waist and closed his eyes, "I'm here. I'm alive." Monty said just above a whisper.

Winston couldn't stop himself as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Monty's. Monty eagerly kissed him back.

They stood there, for what felt like an eternity, holding onto each other and smiling and crying between kisses.

And for the first time in a while, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

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