Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jeanne's first impression of Sam had been… well. Strange was putting it lightly.

After those excruciating ten minutes standing transfixed by the horrors she was witnessing from her balcony, she had managed to stumble inside, head feverish, dropping down into a crawl as her legs began to feel weak and heavy, pressing herself against the cool tiles of her kitchen, anything to relieve the sudden pain in her abdomen, like something was trying to wriggle its way out of her and burst through skin.

She thought it was a dream at first- or that she was deliriously sick with a fever, crying her eyes out, not able to make sense of what exactly was happening to her, why she was suddenly able to see from places she shouldn't have been able to, why she felt so gnawingly ravenous.

And then, she'd seen it. Them. The… faces, peering up at her from her chest and back.

She must have rubbed her eyes raw by the time she had managed to find a coat big enough to cover all of them, shuffling around her apartment in a daze.

She still had a load of washing she was supposed to pick up from the ground floor, she thought. She didn't know why, but despite what she had seen, the faces… that mundane, ordinary chore felt so urgently pressing in her mind. It was all she could think about.

She'd been worrying about it- and honestly, wasn't it refreshingly normal to worry about something so ordinary after the screams she'd heard ring out in the streets below?

But, her body felt so strange now- unwieldy, and her… the faces, under her coat, they made her feel dizzy. She wasn't sure if she could make it down the two floors to the ground level, not by herself anyway…

She didn't have to puzzle it over too long though, when there was a sudden short, almost nervous rap at the door.

"Oh?"

Her relief was palatable- perhaps it was one of her neighbours coming to check on her- maybe Lyle?

It would be kind of him to return the favour after she continued checking on him these past few weeks, hiding himself away inside his apartment.

"Is someone at the door? Come in, I need help!"

The door creaked open, and a figure peered through the gloom.

…right, she'd dimmed the lights, they were making all her- the extra eyes feel sick.

She was about to speak up, when they perked up, and strolled across the apartment to pick up a muffin she'd left on the counter.

"Um."

She said, and the figure startled, and looked up at her, still holding the cheap confectionery by its wrapper.

There was a beat of silence, the two of them just staring, before he finally relented, and put it back, expression a weird mix of guilt and embarrassment at being caught.

"… Sorry." He finally, spoke, clearing his throat with a nervous hum, and she realised she recognised him.

His name was Sam, though she didn't exactly know him that well…

He looked jumpy, nervous, shoulders twitching as he walked over to her in shame, fidgeting with his hands, pulling at each finger until they cracked with a pop, one by one in sequence until starting again at the first.

"Sorry about that."

He had an odd, wild look to his eyes, and she knew then he must know about the things happening out there, even if he seemed unchanged and otherwise unaffected.

… She decided to disregard the blatant thievery, for now at least.

"Hey, you're still normal. That's good."

Well… so she assumed anyway, even if he did look and act a bit like a frightened caged animal.

"Uhm… so, listen."

She might as well shoot her shot while he was here. He did owe it to her to at least listen.

"I left a full load of clothes in the laundromat on the ground floor. I'm… not really capable of leaving right now. I think I might be sick."

Wasn't that an understatement.

"Could you grab my clothes for me?"

Maybe asking the guy who literally just tried to steal from her right in front of her face(s) wasn't a good idea, but her options were limited here.

… maybe she should add an incentive.

"… I'll pay you 50 bucks for it. Cool?"

The man blinks, a little taken aback, and nods.

Was it the request itself or the fact she offered so much money for it…?

… Probably the latter. Most people who lived here did so because they couldn't afford anywhere else, let alone afford to waste on frivolities.

She just figured that considering what was going on outside, it was more than fair to offer some compensation.

… Plus, it would be a good enough reason for him to actually bother going to find it.

"Sure, I'll um, go grab those for you, but… uh… the doors are…"

Oh. Right. She'd almost forgotten about the weird locks those weirdos had been installing everywhere… he'd need those weird disc key things, wouldn't he? Wherever those were…

"Yeah, it might be difficult to reach the ground floor right now, huh?"

Hmm… she remembers the door to first floor had been locked for a while too… was that their doing as well…?

"Lyle, my neighbour from across the way told me there was a way down to the first floor from his apartment, you should ask him."

Hopefully he was doing alright… he hadn't left his apartment for a while prior to all of this going down, despite her knocking on his door to check on him from time to time.

She'd help him out a bit by buying some groceries and leaving them outside the door for him, but even then she never saw him, he'd wait until she was gone before opening his door…

She hoped he hadn't looked outside. God. She hoped nobody had, but… she had the sinking feeling that her hopes were ill founded.

"So, what's happening with you?"

Sam gestured to what she was hiding under her coat, and, wow, ok, a little rude, but, whatever.

She supposed it was a fair enough question to ask, even if he could have been a touch more polite about it.

"It's fine. It's just a bit… weird. I'll be alright."

she clutched her coat a bit tighter then as she felt the other faces wriggle a little, a few mouths beginning to salivate as Sam stepped closer.

"… Sorry. Shouldn't have asked. It's just…" He inhaled for a moment, eyes flicking upwards, towards the direction of the third floor.

She wondered what exactly he'd seen to have such a haunted look on his face, if he hadn't looked outside…

No, she didn't want to know. She'd seen more than enough already, that alone was enough for a lifetime.

"… You can have the muffin. It's fine. I'm not hungry."

A lie, but he didn't need to know that. It didn't matter, not really.

Not much did anymore, not even her washing. Not like she could even wear most of it, not like this.

Maybe she just wanted the distraction it would bring, the fake pretense of normality so she could focus on something simple, ordinary, boring and mundane .

He'd left then, muffin in hand, and she wondered if she'd made the right decision in asking him… but she didn't have to wait long for her answer.

He can't have been gone for more than a few hours when she began to feel strange again, struggling to contain the wriggling, writhing masses trying to squirm their way out from under her coat.

At first, she thought she might very well topple over from the weight, but then new, ungainly legs had began to sprout, planting themselves against the ground to keep her steady.

By the time he had returned, she'd begun to feel something strange leaking its way into her mind, perceiving what the other heads saw and felt as if something foreign had placed a conduit into her brain.

When Sam got close she could feel the way they all turned their attention to him and began to drool, teeth chattering, a few of them licking their lips.

It scared her, its scared her a lot, so she tried to distract herself by asking about his progress so far.

He'd made it to the first floor, and had even unlocked the door to the stairwell from the other side. That was good!

He'd just need to find those weird keys, and he'd be able to unlock the door to the ground floor, and then he'd be back with her laundry… which…

She wouldn't even be able to wear anymore, would she?

Her studded jacket was too tight fitting to fit over the faces coming out of her back, and… and there was no way she'd be able to figure out pants.

Still… even still, she just wanted something to do, to keep her hands busy and occupied.

Folding laundry that she didn't even fit in anymore would be something at least.

But then… things went from bad, to so, so much worse.

Even now, she didn't like to think about it, the haze of mindless hunger from the countless heads ripping into people and tearing them apart with sadistic glee, how they wouldn't stop no matter how hard she tried, how much she begged and cried and screamed.

Sam had been her saviour then- even as she begged for him to just make it all stop, to rip the problem out by its roots, he'd instead struggled with each individual head- it had hurt of course, she felt each one as it was cut down, flinching at each stab, bite, slash and more.

This time, she was more than happy for him to help himself to anything he wanted. It wasn't as if she'd be wearing those clothes anymore anyway.

Better to go to someone who needed it instead, she figured.

He'd been… quite kind actually. Apologetic that he hadn't been able to get her laundry sooner- as if that would have been helped in the end.

He'd promised to come check on her, just in case any more heads started to bud, and he had.

She had been grateful for the company, even if she wasn't the best conversationalist.

It was just nice to be spoken to like she was still a normal person.

It'd been a while since she last saw him now though, and the worry was beginning to form anew. Usually, he'd stop by at least once a day to check on her, but she hadn't seen any hide nor hair of him for a few days now…

Maybe… he was just busy.

She'd tried not to dwell too much on it, shifting furniture around to give her new, longer neck space to move, coiling up in a pile near where the couch used to sit, dozing most of the time to while away the hours.

She'd been woken by another knock, and she'd been so eager that she'd just assumed and called out to him by name.

"Sam? Just let yourself in, it's not locked."

If she had been more awake, more aware she would have realised how strange that was, that he would have known by now, that he'd stopped knocking first a good while ago.

But the tall masked person who lumbered in hadn't been Sam, though.. yes, she recognised her, and the kids, and… oh, that was her neighbour from a few doors down too….

"… Where's Sam?"

The little girl, the one she recalls trying to warn to run away, back before Sam had helped her was looking around her apartment curiously, at her long neck winding through rooms and her body sitting still near the kitchen, but she flinched when she spoke, ducking back to stand besides the young boy, who offered her his bear, which she hugged tightly.

It took the tall woman a moment to respond.

"… Home."

Oh. Weird. He's never sent anyone over in his place before. Why would he… had something happened?

"Oh… uhm… is he… alright?"

There was another pause.

"… No."

Uh. That… could mean anything actually, from a cold to losing (another) arm…

"Oh… oh no, what happened?"

Hellen looked at her from under her mask, and she felt a shiver run up her spine shooting down her neck, winding around the room and down, down, down all the way to her body, which trembled and spasmed slightly.

The woman shakes her head, just enough for her to see the slight motion, before tilting it back towards the kids.

… oh.

If it wasn't something she could discuss around the kids then… then it was bad, wasn't it?

The woman cleared her throat, and spoke.

"We... Need help. That's all I can say."

Jeanne gulped nervously. It was really bad then. She takes a deep breath, blinking her sore, red eyes slowly, set by set.

"Alright. Tell me what I can do."

Chapter Text

When it came to Sam, Lyle remembered their first encounter oh too well, from the way he had shook his hand as the manager introduced them, then clapped him lightly on the shoulder with a lopsided grin, his uneven eyes sparkling in the light.

He'd been so kind, so so patient with him, as he showed him the ropes, never scolding him or getting angry when he made a mistake…

"It's alright, I did the same thing my first day here, nobody needs to know." And then he'd winked, just a touch awkwardly, a moment too late to feel truly confident, and yet Lyle had felt a flutter in his chest anyway, an arrow shot straight through the heart by Cupid himself.

That budding, sprouting crush had only grown more and more, began to bud, ready to bloom into full blown adoration as the two of them worked alongside one another, watered by the casual smiles and lighthearted small talk they shared… and then…

Sam had been fired.

He remembers that clearly too, the way the manager had screamed and screamed at him, as he stood there, taking it silently, body tense, fists balled up tight.

Had he been fired? Or had he just taken the initiative, tearing the name tag off his chest before shoving it into their hand and walking off before they had the chance to?

Either way, the result was the same. They didn't work together anymore, and Lyle's shifts had begun to blur together into the same old same old monotony of stacking shelves and serving ungrateful customers.

That crush seemed ready to wilt, cut prematurely by rusted shears, and yet, it refused to wither away, roots only reaching deeper into his heart, as it began to bloom into something else entirely.

He missed him, of course he did, but something had changed, something dark squirming its way inside to turn that honest, genuine adoration into something more.

Sure, there has been times his infatuation had been a bit… obsessive. Maybe he'd take a picture or two… b… but he'd always asked!

And Sam had always complimented his photos whenever he saw them, peering over his shoulder during their rare breaks together… he told him time and time again how much he loved his photos, how much personality they captured, how full of life they were. He really sign think he'd mind, surely…

But the longer he went without seeing Sam again, the more he began to yearn, to see his face again- the pictures he'd had just weren't enough. A few candid Polaroids could never be enough to capture every single little thing he adored about him, his lopsided smile, the way his eyes were set so charmingly uneven, the little burst of blue in his eye that made his gaze so spectacularly stunning.

He did try to keep in touch, he really did, but he saw Sam outside so rarely now, and only when he was so busy, buying grocery's, doing his laundry… it just didn't seem right to bother him.

… especially not to ask permission for something as silly as taking just a small, innocent photograph.

And It's not like as if he was really following him. They lived in the same building, of course they'd pass each other in the halls and facilities sometimes. It was all… harmless. Really!

And… ok. Maybe taking his spare key was a step too far… b-but! Anyone could have found it! What if they broke in while he was out? Or worse, when he was home? Oh, he'd never live with himself if something happened to Sam…

He really, truly, couldn't bear to imagine a world without him. He was… everything to him. And he wanted so badly to just talk to him, but every time he stood outside the door to apartment 33 he just… faltered. He couldn't do it. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was something else, a part of him that liked this distant love affair, loving him from afar, out of reach where they couldn't hurt each other, playing the part of moon to his planet, dancing around each other but never meeting, keeping the dark side of himself hidden away out of sight and out of mind.

He was… happy, keeping things this way, working on his project alone, catching only a few candid glimpses of him in the halls. Things didn't need to change.

But then, he had borrowed the zoom lens off of Edwin, it's not as if Sam was the only thing he liked to take pictures of, and he did find the night sky oh so terribly beautiful, the moon shining in all its pale glory, and… he had seen something, there in between the flickering constellations, a big, empty space where stars should have been, something he became so desperate to capture in that moment, but couldn't, even as his hands had begun to shake, eyes glued to his camera, trying over, and over, and over again, even as his vision began to split in half.

He wanted to capture it, wanted to pin that single, beautiful snapshot and freeze it time, but it had slipped out of his grasp, as his moist, sweating hands lost his grip on his camera and he waited to hear his precious equipment crash to the ground, heart already lurching.

It never did.

He blinked, and he heard the lens of his camera shutter, once, twice, three times, the soft, familiar whir terrible loud in the silence that followed.

It took him too long to realise where it had gone, and when he did, he had wanted to vomit, something acidic pooling up in his mouth, hand clasped tightly over his face and digging into jawbone to keep his drooling maw shut as fingers felt hard metal and glass seamlessly affixed to skin.

He wasn't sure how he got home that night, just that he must have, as he awoke the next morning, shivering under heavy blankets, and squinting from the too bright light of the morning sunrise.

Things hadn't gotten any better after a good nights sleep. Only worse, waking to more and more changes that only continue to progress.

As the days began to pass, he'd been forced to isolate himself, too afraid that people would see what had become of him- or worse still, that Sam would.

Sam was so kind, so nice… but surely even he had his limits.

And then came the day that everything had begun to make sense. He was no longer the only one afflicted by strange maladies, the screams of the people outside, both in the streets and in the halls had woken him from a fitful slumber and he knew that the building anticipation that had been growing in his stomach had been leading up to this beautiful, wonderful, gloriously monstrous event.

The end had come, and he was no longer one of the only few to have witnessed its majesty early.

He should have expected that Sam would come knocking really… of course he'd need supplies, he knew Sam always held off shopping for groceries until there were only a few things left in his fridge and cupboards, it wasn't as if he could afford to go more regularly.

But still, it had been a wonderful surprise to see him in front of him, still so ordinarily handsome, still so… Sam.

He had even managed to get a new picture.

While kissing him no less!

Oh, Sam's lips pressed against his camera lens felt oh so right, and if he could bottle the feeling of it, he would-

Unfortunately, a Polaroid was insufficient to capture such a thing, but it would more than suffice.

And even better… now, he had a backup, just in case anything happened to him, if perhaps the worst came to pass, he could bring him back.

Even now, he gripped that undeveloped film tightly, his most precious, most cherished of possessions, held close to his heart… or, well, where his heart should be anyway.

A small, guilty part of him almost wanted an excuse to develop it right here and now, just so he could see that lovely face begin to form. It was always his favourite part of photography, watching them develop.

… But no, he wasn't that far gone. Not yet.

He could wait patiently, and in the meantime, maybe he'd even be able to trade a few more kisses with Sam first, if he got lucky. It was always a pleasure to see him, even if he hadn't needed to stop by since he hasn't needed to use his shortcut for a while.

A shame… but at least he had his project to tide him over while he waited for his next visit. It kept him busy, the harsh smell of chemicals as comforting as freshly washed cotton.

He'd been busy locking up, whistling slightly under his breath, tucking the key under his cloak before turning around-

-only to be suddenly faced with two young children staring at him intently.

He'd shrieked of course, much to the amusement of his grinning, giggling neighbour from down the hall, who had begun laughing uproariously, as the kids continued staring, completely unimpressed.

… Or so he assumed. The little girl seemed pretty put off, but it was a tad harder to tell with the boy, his face consisting of a large gaping hole that stretched downwards towards his torso, lined with numerous milk teeth.

"hhh… Sorry mister Lyle…" Joel apologised for the disturbance as Leigh continued to snicker to herself, Sophie muttering under her breath and rolling her eyes before Joel gave her a nudge with his elbow.

"… ugh, sorry." She mumbled, clearly unapologetic, but, well, he did suppose she was just a child.

"T… that's quite alright!"

He stammered out, peering around the room nervously.

"So… what b… brings you here today?"

"Hehehe… Jeanne told us to come check on you… what a good neighbour she is… hehehehe…"

"Um… hhh… yeah, and she said… she said to ask you if you have any… hhh… any juice."

"… Juice?"

"She… hhh… said she didn't have any, and-

" -and we were thirsty." Sophie interrupts.

Oh. Jeanne… a little slither of guilt wormed its way in, and he fiddled with the edge of his cloak.

"Oh, uh… o…of course, I'll run and grab a few for you-"

He had always kept a few packs of drinks in his storage for their tabletop sessions, juice, soda and bottles of plain water for those who preferred it. He shouldn't have been surprised that Jeanne remembered…

"I just keep them in my… hmm."

Well, he did keep them in his supply closet, but…

"L… let me check that it's um… t… that it's safe."

he scuttles over and cracks the door open just enough to peer inside…

Before slamming it shut with a shriek, as something inside growls and attempts to lunge for the tiny opening.

He ends up slamming it a moment too late, a few flailing claws having managed to breach the gap before being abruptly crushed, and the resulting howls are muffled through the thick wooden door.

"U… um, I'm sorry, I uh… I might be out-"

He squeaks, pushing his weight against the door as something rams into it on the other side.

Leigh snorts, and shoves him to the side roughly, casually ignoring the fact that he's twice her size in both height and width.

"I'll deal with it… hehehe…"

With her trademark grin, she launches herself through the door, the pained howls now joined by maniacal, wretched laughter as what sounds like a fight ensues inside, Lyle wincing as he hears things smash, and break, wood splintering and glass shattering.

The kids seem entirely unperturbed by this, having sat themselves down to wait on the couch, swinging their legs as they wait, the girl occasional lightly kicking the others leg with a giggle as the other whines for her to stop.

"Uh… u…um… so… you three… uh… you're… alone today…?"

He's never seen Sam's… roommates without him to lead them before…

"No."

The girl, Sophie replied bluntly, leaning back against the soft cushions, digging her elbow against Joel trying to fight for some extra room despite all the extra space the large couch provided them.

"Oh! T-Then, Sam's with you…?"

…Subtle.

Both the kids go quiet that that, Sophie's face sinking into a sullen, discontent frown.

"… No." she huffs, turning her head away, arms folded, suddenly sulky.

Joel speaks up nervously, feeling the ear of his stuffed bear, rubbing it between two fingers.

"Hh… no… Miss Hellen is though…"

"O… Oh, I see, ehe…"

Hellen. Now that was a name rhat struck fear… something about her, the way she stared at him while Sam wasn't looking… it sent shivers down his spine. (Assuming he still had one)

Sometimes he thought that she knew about his project somehow.

Was judging him for it- even though he was hardly doing anything wrong- you were allowed to take photos, and, and there were no laws against developing them either!

… Even if it was illegal, it's not like there wasn't a fair share of laws being broken inside the apartment already.

There had been murmurings of missing people for a little while now, Jeanne had been sure to update him on it, the local… "gossip" within the complex… but despite how uneasy it made everyone, no one wanted the cops sniffing around. Not when they might find some of the various contraband residents kept on them and in their homes for… safety.

Even prior to the everything going down, these were dangerous times, and this was hardly a good part of town.

But rent was cheap, Henderson didn't pry into personal matters, and would turn a blind eye to most things provided you didn't stir up trouble, and the place even had a fairly decent security setup for added protection, along with its other useful faculties, so, people clammed up, and didn't rock the boat when it came to matters that might involve the law.

It was better to let sleeping dogs lie, even if it meant turning a blind eye to the rumours of people vanishing without a trace…

Though, now he wonders, if perhaps there was a correlation here between those missing people and… whatever was happening outside, if perhaps others had also had the misfortune of sneaking a peek early…

He shudders, and draws his robes closer.

Scary… what if that happened to…

"Heheh… you really like Sam, don'tcha?"

He screamed as something whispered into his ear, little metal legs flailing out in panic, and the absolute monster wrapped in human skin his neighbour had become giggled, wiping her cheek and lapping at her bloodied hand like a dog.

"Wh- what g-gave you that idea…?" He stammered, backing away as he peered over at the now empty storage closet, door buckled and splintered, hanging loosely off its hinges, the various supplies within strewn across the floor.

"I can smell it on ya." She giggled again, and advanced as he continued to scuttle away, cowering.

"Bet you're real torn up that he ain't here huh?"

"I… eep! D-don't know what you're talking about…" His back hit the wall and he stared down at the short, grinning woman who despite her size managed to look menacingly.

"Aw… that's a shame… because you're not going to see him again for a long, looooong time… ehehe…"

"… What." He freezes, taking a moment to digest her words, and when he does, he straightens.

"You heard me loverboy."

Her tongue drags itself along her lips, lapping up any remaining red splatters, and she titters.

"Better hope that photo tides you over until then… not that it's too accurate now… heh heh heh…"

"Y-You! What, what did you do to him?!"

He snaps, uncharacteristically bold as he steps closer towards her.

"What makes you think I had anything to do with it… you wound me…" She looks anything but as her eyes widen in excitement, body almost trembling in anticipation.

"If… if you did anything to hurt Sam, I'll… I'll…!"

"Yes! What'll you'll do to me? Wanna fight me? Wanna kill me?"

Her hair is standing on end as he grabs her by the ragged shirt, ready to shake her, legs twitching under his cloak as he stares down at the manic beast, mouth turned downwards into a snarl until-

"STOP IT!"

Sophie is standing on the couch, leaning over the back of it, face crumpled up in a mix of raw emotion.

"Sam's HURT, and… and we're supposed to be HELPING, not… not…"

Her face crinkles further, and, oh, those are tears, aren't they…

She raises an arm and angrily smears them across her cheeks with her dirtied sleeve, sniffing.

"S…ssstop fighting. He can't get better if… if we argue n yell…"

Joel fiddles with Fuzzy a moment, before slipping a hand into hers, squeezing her hand gently.

"Hhh… We… um. We can go, if… hhh… if you're just gonna argue. Umm. We don't need… we're not thirsty anymore." He adds.

Lyle blinks, camera apertures shutting with a soft whirr, and he drops Leigh, embarrassed.

That wasn't like him… really! It wasn't. He wasn't… violent. It just wasn't in him, not usually but… she had managed to push all his buttons, single out his weak point so so casually…

"I… I… um. I'm… s… sorry, I just…"

"Awww… and it was just getting fun too…" Leigh croons, giving him a wry grin.

"Oh well. Next time maybe… heh heh heh…"

Sophie continued to sniffle angrily, rubbing at her eyes as Joel walks her back to the front door, hand in hand.

"… Miss Leigh."

He urges, as she continues to linger, staring at Lyle with her oddly gleaming eyes.

"… Coming, coming… heh heh heh…"

She turns to follow, but not before leaving him with a few last words before departing.

"… Feel free to stop by later to see him… you might not like what you see though…"

And with that, they were gone.

Chapter Text

"So… uhh…"

Jeanne started, twiddling her hands, as Hellen stared at her.

"H…ow can I help exactly…? I um, don't know how…"

"Supplies."

Hellen cut her off curtly.

"Bandages, painkillers, anything you can spare."

"Oh! Of course, um… I should have some in my cupboard somewhere… um…"

Hellen is already walking off in the in the direction of her kitchen as she stumbles through her words, leaving the kids (and Leigh) by the entrance standing awkwardly.

"Uhh… hi….?"

The little girl squints at her, and around the room where her long neck is looping around, and the various stubs where her other heads once grew.

"… You're not gonna try 'n eat us, are you?"

"W- n-no! No, of course not, I… uh… S… Sam and the others already… um… helped me with that little issue."

"Oh. …Boring."

The child crossed her arms and kicked at the floor absentmindedly, staring at the ground intently, bear in her arms, as the boy beside her taps her on the shoulder.

The two children whisper to each other conspiratorially, having some unheard conversation that was not so subtly about her, glancing over repeatedly while the grinning woman behind them just chuckled.

Finally, the little boy speaks up.

"Um, hhh… Miss Jeanne? We're thirsty, have you got any juice?"

"Or soda!" The girl interrupts.

"Or… hhh… soda."

"Oh, well… I don't really have… uh…" Jeanne faltered, staring over at her fridge, long since plundered and empty (Thanks Sam)

"… Is… water ok…?

"Oh… hhh… I guess that's…"

"Ew! The water here tastes gross! I don't WANT water, I want soda!" Sophie objected, stomping her foot.

… For some reason the kitchen sink taps seemed to rattle and sigh at that. Probably just the plumbing.

"Oh. Well… I… uh…"

… wait a minute. This could be a good excuse to get the kids out of the apartment for a bit so she could discuss things with Hellen…

"… Actually, my neighbour, Lyle, you've… met him right? He usually keeps a bunch of drinks and snacks at his place for game nights."

She still remembers the first time she'd swung round to hang out with him over a game session advertised on the apartment cork board, figured, well, she might as well, he seemed nice enough and they were living right across the hall from one another. It couldn't hurt to have a few pals to vouch for her, just in case the law ever caught up…

He'd had way, way too many packs of canned drinks, chips, and candy, as if he'd been expecting or hoping more people would show up… at the time it had just been her, and him, and… it had been incredibly awkward.

Lyle had kept babbling nervously, waiting for others to arrive- and they never did.

"Their loss." She'd shrugged, and… she couldn't describe how he'd looked at her then, lip quivering, as she swung an arm around his shoulders.

In the end, the two of them had ended up eating most of the snacks themselves, while he talked her through creating a character sheet for a mazes and wizards campaign.

Nerd stuff wasn't her usual go to, but… it had been fun. More than she had thought it would be.

She hadn't expected to actually come to care for him, to view him as an actual, bonafide friend and not just a casual acquaintance, but hey, life could surprise you.

…She'd really missed hanging out with him these past couple of weeks.

"… So… uh, if you go and ask, and just tell him I send you, I'm sure he'd be happy to share some with you." She fiddled with her surplus of hands timidly.

"…hhh… we should probably ask Hellen if we can-"

"HELLEN! CAN WE GO TO LYLES?"

The woman didn't even look back from her rummaging through cupboards.

"Yes. Bring Leigh."

Sophie scrunched her nose a little, but grabbed Joel's hand and started tugging him over to the door.

"C'monnnn. Lets go."

Leigh snickered, and followed close behind the pair as they left, the sound of her softly sinister laughter still audible through the door as their footsteps grew faint.

… Right then.

She… Had Hellen. Alone.

"So… um."

Hellen didn't pause to acknowledge her as she dragged herself closer.

"…ahem."

Still nothing, still rummaging through her stuff.

… She hoped she'd put all her mugs back later.

She dared to tap the woman on the shoulder, darting her hand back quickly, as if fearful she might just cut it off for the attempt.

Hellen paused, shoulders tensing.

"I'm sorry but… I… wanted to talk to you about… about Sam…?"

There was a low, droning rumble, that for a second, she didn't realise was coming from Hellen, as she slowly turned her head to face her.

"Mmmm."

Internally, she felt her composure break as Hellen's eyes locked onto hers. She tried not to think about that cleaver and how cleanly it cut through flesh.

"You… uh. Couldn't tell me before. With the kids in the room and…" she trailed off, dragging herself back as Hellen began to approach.

"I'm just… worried." She squeaked, as she stopped in front of her.

"… Go sit down."

"Uh, I can't really-"

"Sit."

She squeaked again, and went to go sag against the couch awkwardly, Hellen following, sinking down into the worn cushion seat, rummaging around in her pockets before pulling out a can of something and tossing it over.

"Here."

Jeanne clumsily caught the can and squinted.

"Oh, I don't really drink this brand of beer-"

"I don't care."

Hellen pulled out another lukewarm can and popped it open, the soft fswh an oddly mundane, almost nostalgic sound considering their present circumstances, before lifting her mask and taking a quick swig.

Jeanne glanced at the beer can in her hands again, and shrugged, before cracking it open to take a sip, tepid beer dripping out the side of her elongated mouth.

"…This tastes like piss"

"Yup."

The two of them sit in silence for a moment, savouring the shitty beer, before Hellen finally speaks.

"… He went to go check out an apartment by himself."

The can in her hands is empty, and she rolls it between her hands absentmindedly as she continues.

"Didn't think anything of it. He can take care of himself."

She pauses.

"… Is what I thought."

Jeanne doesn't interrupt, even as she feels a horrible sense of trepidation building. Hellen didn't sound upset, voice as bluntly monotone as ever, but even so, the way she held her shoulders, the way the thick muscle of her neck tensed…

"… He was taking a while, so I went to go find him. And I did."

The pause between her next sentence felt stretched out, almost indescribably long.

"He wasn't alone."

The can rolled between her hands was suddenly crushed, crumpled cleanly between two palms, the sound almost startling Jeanne into falling off the couch, dropping her own half empty can of beer, spilling it onto the floor.

"It did something to him. Broke him. Took his skin, found him as a bloodied mess."

Images of people's screaming faces as they were ripped apart flashed in her mind, of people torn limb from limb, crying, begging, pleading for mercy while hungry mouths continued ripping into them.

Had… something done that to him…?

She wanted to be sick.

"Oh God…"

Hellen continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"When I brought him home, he could barely speak. Even the light hurt him. Everything did. Nothing seemed to help."

Her mask tilted upwards, towards the dim ceiling light, flickering faintly.

"I wondered for a while, if I should have just killed him. If it would be kinder. I still do."

"Of course not!"

Jeanne suddenly snapped, rearing up.

If this outburst surprised Hellen, she didn't show it, tilting her head slowly, dropping the crumpled ball of aluminium.

"Sam… Sam could have killed me when I asked him for help, I begged him to, but… but he… he found another way."

It would have been easier to have just done what she asked, to just attack her main body, to cut her problems down at the root, even if it meant her death. She'd outright asked him to do as much, hadn't she? Didn't she deserve it, after all the people she'd killed?

"So don't say that- there's no way killing him would be kinder, there's no way he'd want that for himself-"

She didn't know when she started raising her voice, when she'd started shouting.

"You can't just give up on him-"

Thwap

A heavy silence fell over the apartment, as Jeanne rubbed at the sore flesh on her face in shock.

"…"

"I'm sorry."

Hellen lowered her fist, and slumped her shoulders, slipping her hand under her mask to grip at her face.

"… But I'm not giving up, I just…"

Whatever she was about to say was interrupted, as the kids (and Leigh) burst back into the apartment, and Hellen stiffened, kicking the cans of beer under the sofa and out of sight.

"Lyle didn't have any soda." Sophie announced, eyes suspiciously red, as Joel breathed heavily beside her.

"Oh… he didn't…? Um, what a shame…"

Jeanne scrambled to try and act normal, hoping that Hellen hadn't left a visible mark.

"Nevermind! Maybe Eugene might have some…? Or uh. Someone… else…?"

"M' not thirsty anymore anyway." The girl muttered, kicking at the floor and grimacing as something tacky and sticky stuck to her soles.

Leigh chuckled, eyes fixed on her for a little longer than was comfortable.

"Hehe… what were you two up to…?"

"Uh, we were just-"

"Nothing. We're leaving."

"…already?" Sophie groaned. "We just got back…"

"Yes."

Hellen stood, and nodded at the kids curtly, grabbing Leigh by the arm to roughly march her back over to the door.

"Let's go."

"Ah, wait-"

Jeanne scrambled to stop them leaving, suddenly frantic.

Hellen paused at the door, looking back at her.

"Was I… able to help at all…?"

Hellen's eyes didn't betray much, as she stared back at her from the doorway, Sophie tugging on her hand and whining for them to just GO already.

"…You did."

She said at last, inclining her head just a tad, before letting the door close with soft click.

Jeanne could hear the children squabbling outside in the hall, and Hellen's heavy footsteps grow fainter and fainter as they left, until she was left in silence once more.

Despite the mess they'd made, and how loud the kids were, even the punch Hellen had thrown… she already missed it.

… the quiet really made her realise, just how alone she really felt, just how much she missed having company, having friends over.

She missed those game nights with Lyle so, so much. Sure, it had just been her and him at first, but over time, she'd managed to get a few others to join, and things had gotten so lively, as they laughed and joked about the various escapades of their characters, cheering when someone rolled well, groaning when someone rolled low, bemoaning lost characters when they had to roll for a new one, holding ridiculous mock funerals, while chugging soda and eating dangerous amounts of snacks.

She missed… Lyle.

She dragged herself closer to her door, and hesitated, glancing back at her long neck, dragging along the floor like a worm.

What would he think, if he saw her like this…?

She just… looked so different now. Nothing at all like herself. Would he even recognise her?

She recalls showing Sam her worsening condition. Saw the look in his eyes as he struggled not to visibly react, the way he'd gritted his teeth as he told her "he'd seen worse."

It was one thing coming from a near stranger, but… she wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle it, coming from her friend.

Then again, Lyle had never judged her before, not when she came across as some "intimidating biker chick".

Sure, she liked to dress tough, but she was anything but on the inside.

She hated the idea of hurting people, hated how cruel people could be to one another, hated that she'd hurt others herself in her past.

… Wasn't that why she'd taken pity on Lyle in the first place? He was a little pitiful, a little pathetic even, a bit like a kicked puppy, and hell, she'd always had a soft spot for the underdog.

Outcasts ought to stick together, was what she had thought, and now, more than ever, she really, truly was one.

… Ah.

It clicked for her then and there, as she thought it over.

… So what if she looked different? So what if she was a monster?

Everything had gone crazy, and now, more than ever, they needed to stick together. Not just her, and Lyle, but their neighbours too, everyone who was still alive and sane…

She couldn't just hide away in her apartment like this anymore.

Not when she could be doing something.

She'd sent Sam and those kids over so casually but hadn't once thought to check on Lyle herself since that first horrible morning. She didn't even think to go warn him, to make sure he hadn't looked-

She had no idea what he'd been through the past few days.

So, maybe it was time to find out.

Chapter Text

Joel breathed heavily, as he clutched Fuzzy to his chest, walking hand in hand with Sophie.

… the adults had made it a rule they had to hold hands when out and about, and he didn't mind it too much, even if Sophie groaned and complained and wiped her hand on her pants after as if his hand was all gross and sweaty. Which it wasn't.

It was like… like the uh… um… what was it called…? The…. thing teachers made them do on field trips…

mmm… it'd come back to him. Eventually.

So, Joel didn't mind. He was used to it. Mom and Dad always made him and Ben hold hands too, so Ben didn't run off and get lost. He was used to being the responsible one, the responsible older sibling who had to share his toys and games, and make sure the littler ones didn't get into trouble.

B'sides, he knew that they only made them hold hands because they didn't trust Sophie not to run off and hide somewhere. They trusted him just fine, and it made him happy that they did. From home, to school, to sleeping over at Mister Sam's, he liked being well behaved. He liked the way grown ups would call him responsible, say he was a good kid, say he was "very mature for his age."

He liked it. Really.

He did.

Why else would he do it? And it's not like the idea of getting into trouble really appealed to him… acting out, shouting, hitting, slapping, stealing toys or food… he didn't like the thought of being yelled at. The thought of the grown ups being mad at him, or worse.

Disappointed.

It made him feel small. Smaller than usual even, because he was already little, though not as little as Ben, or… or…

What…. what was his little sisters name again…? Did it begin with an S…? No, that was Sophie… mmm… it… it would come back to him. He'd remember. Eventually.

He forgot a lot of things lately. Sometimes things just felt all… fuzzy, all foggy and weird inside his head. Sometimes he couldn't remember what he was just doing, or… or sometimes he'd even forgot how to do multiplications, even the easyones that even babies could do, like what was one plus one.

Sophie teased him a lot about that at first, but after a while she started making a funny expression whenever he forgot something "simple", face all creased up oddly like she wasn't sure what face to pull. "C'mon, you know this." She'd say, and kick him in the shins, even as he swore he really, really didn't.

It's not like they were super close before, but… he'd overheard her talking to Mister Sam once, saying that… that he'd gotten all weird.

… he didn't feel that weird. Even if he forgot things or his brain went fuzzy he was… he was still him. Wasn't he? He was still Joel, who liked going to school, who liked playing football, and playing Super Jump Lad and… and… other things, that he definitely remembered liking, and even if he didn't, it didn't mean he didn't not like those things. They'd come back to him. They always did, even if… it took a really long time sometimes.

He'd remember. It helped if he didn't think too hard about it. Not always but… sometimes.

In the meanwhile, he thought about what he and Sophie (and Miss Leigh) overheard outside Miss Jeanne's apartment.

… Sophie had told him she saw Mister Sam but… he hadn't believed her. Not really…

…Or maybe he just hadn't wanted to, after all, Mister Sam had remained a stable figure in his life after… after everything that had happened. He was just a normal guy, his shut in neighbour from across the hall who didn't have any friends and played games all day, and he'd let him come over for a sleepover over while his parents were…

…

He… knew he couldn't go back. Of course he knew. But it was just easier to pretend that he didn't, that he was just stupid, ignorant of his surroundings.

…he could pretend that things could go back to normal that way. That after his sleepover with everyone, he'd go back and see Mom and Dad and Ben and… and his little sister, and they'd all hug and it'd all be okay.

But it wouldn't.

He knew that.

And with Mister Sam getting hurt… it was harder and harder to pretend.

If… if Mom and Dad couldn't take care of him… and Mister Sam couldn't either… what was going to happen to him…?

Miss Hellen and Miss Leigh were scary, and Morton and Xaria were mean and Dan always argued with him about games and, and…

He was scared… It wasn't so bad, when he knew that Mister Sam would look after him, but now he didn't know what would happen, if Mister Sam would be ok, or who would take care of him if he wasn't, or if he'd even be allowed to stay at his apartment anymore.

He didn't like not knowing. This wasn't something he could do reading for or study like he would for a test. There were no answers, nothing that could get him ready for what might happen.

He felt a tug on his hand, and he looked up to see Sophie staring at him.

"You're walking too slow." She insisted, tugging his hand again.

"Hhh… sorry… 'm… hhh… tired…"

"Hmmph."

She rolled her eyes, but slowed down to walk pace by pace with him, swinging their arms back and forth.

"… Thanks."

"… hhh…?"

"… for letting me hold your bear earlier."

"… Fuzzy."

"Ugh, yeah. Fuzzy, whatever." she rolled her eyes again but… it didn't feel like she was trying to be mean. Not this time anyway.

"…. You can… hhh… hold him whenever you want. He… he's a good friend when you're… hhh… when you're sad."

"Mmm. He's super old."

"Y…yeah. I've… hhh… I've had him since I was a baby."

"… Oh." Sophie blinks, and looks back at the teddy bear in his arms, well worn and well loved.

"… I don't think I have anything from when I was that little…" she murmured.

"… we had to leave a lot of stuff behind when we moved."

Huh. He knew she must have moved, since she'd only transferred to their class that year… but it's not like he knew a lot of the details. He hadn't been close friends with her or anything…or anyone else for that matter. A lot of people thought he was a teachers pet and teased him… and Sophie… mmm…

He… doesn't remember seeing her with the other kids that much either…

"… we can… hhh… we can share my stuff."

He was used to sharing his toys and games and even his old clothes with his siblings anyway.

"W…when we get back, we… hhh… we can ask Miss Hellen if… if we can get some toys n games from my place."

Mister Sam had said he wasn't allowed to go out on his own, but maybe she'd let him if he was with Sophie.

"Ew, I don't want your stuff." She stuck her tongue out and blew a razzberry.

"… but um… do you have any colouring books…? I'm almost done with the one Sam gave me."

"Y…yeah! Me n Ben had tons!"

Despite her bluster, she smiled, and Joel, despite his inherent handicap, beamed back.

He'd forgotten, for a moment at least, about all his worries.

Maybe for now, that was the best he could ask for.