Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One would think the end of the world would happen once. There is only one world. However, as Scott stares at the writhing form that Jimmy became, he sees it ending again. Pearl is covered head to toe, even has a face shield on. She’s holding Jimmy down while he strains against his bonds. They’re tearing. He won’t be held down for long. Despite being in danger, the three humans in the room do not flinch.

Pearl is covered the best she can be, Gem is exhausted, and Scott isn’t afraid. He would never be afraid of the man he loves. Loved.

Pearl grunts as Jimmy’s thrashing gets stronger. Gem looks up at Scott, face sunken, the hair sticking out of her braid in a halo. She holds a notebook that has seen better days, the cover is falling off and the spirals are escaping. Pens and pencils are strewn around the room and her pockets, as if she kept forgetting where she placed the utensils. A ridiculous show of resources in the apocalypse. Gen puts the pen she’s currently holding in her overall pocket, accompanying its friend. “He’s a safety hazard now, Scott. We can either kill him or lock him away.” She looks Scott in the eyes. Her forest green eyes are hard behind her cracked glasses as she speaks, “You need to make your decision now. Pearl has authority to end his suffering here and now if you don’t speak.”

Scott looks at Jimmy. He knows Jimmy barely exists now, the virus has taken over his nervous system. He’ll tear himself apart if no one stops him. Scratch that, he’ll tear himself apart WHILE everyone does their best to stop him. His blonde hair is a mess, Scott wants to fix it for him. He would hate to go out with terrible bed head. Jimmy’s skin stretches painfully against his face, no doubt doing the same on his limbs. There’s no more vibrance left in those brown eyes. They no longer look around in fear or warmth, just hunger. Jimmy wants to spread the virus. He wants to feast. And yet, Scott can’t bring himself to let Pearl pull out her sickle. The thought of Jimmy’s head rolling off the bed to rest at his feet makes him feel sick.

His voice is hoarse through his tears as he makes his decision. “We’ll leave. If you can just do one last thing and help me take him away from your compound safely, you won’t see either of us again.”

Gem closes her eyes and takes a steady breath. “Okay. You no longer want me to find a cure.” She sets down her notebook. Scott doesn’t look at the equations and scribbled observations. Knowing how close they were or were not is too much.

“Help me tie him up,” Pearl states curtly.

Scott steps forward and grasps Jimmy’s arms. Rigor mortis has set in, making the former man’s muscles feel stiff despite the thrashing. Scott doesn’t feel like he’s the one holding Jimmy down. It’s someone else. It HAS to be. Pearl shifts beside him as Gem hands her rope. Scott focuses on the steps.

Feed the rope under, keep Jimmy pinned, wrap the rope over him, repeat until it can be tied off. After Jimmy’s arms are pinned to his sides, they tie his legs up. To keep everyone safe, they tie a sack over Jimmy’s head. Pearl does this. Scott stares off into the middle distance as the bag is secured. Jimmy’s snapping teeth are hidden away now. And so are his lovely brown eyes.

Jimmy is more like an angry caterpillar. He’s twisting and straining against his new restraints. Pearl and Scott bodily hoist him off the bed. Gem is already there with the world’s saddest wheelchair. Scott has no idea how it’s survived the apocalypse. It looks held together with prayers and pure spite. Scott and Pearl hold Jimmy in the seat while Gem secures him.

She pats his shoulder and Jimmy twists his covered head towards the hand. Gem pulls away quickly. Even though it wouldn’t have done anything, she wipes her hand on her overalls. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more,” she says.

Pearl comes over to Gem’s side and rests her hand on the other’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You did your best.”

Gem leans into the touch, making Scott’s chest ache. Pearl pulls her hand away, sending a sheepish look to Scott. It’s clear to anyone who has spent the last two months and the final sleepless two weeks that Pearl is holding back. If Scott wasn’t standing here with his husband tied to a chair, Pearl would have wrapped Gem up in the warmest hug. Even in the tense atmosphere, Gem would have sighed into Pearl’s embrace and the two would have held each other.

If Scott wasn’t here. If Jimmy was cured. If everything had ended how he hoped. If, if, if, if, if.

“We’ll be on our way.” Scott grabs the handles of the chair. Jimmy stops fighting for a second. He starts walking through the winding corridors of the compound. Footsteps follow him, but Scott doesn’t look. He knows it’s Pearl.

She falls into step beside him, her presence making anyone peering with confusion step aside. Pearl’s heavy boots echo through the hall as they near the exit. It’s the only sound besides Jimmy. It feels nice, in a sick, twisted way. Just the three of them, like when they first met.

Pearl waves at the guards and they step aside. The sun had just started pushing the night away when they step out. Scott and Jimmy won’t be attacked after they go through the final gate. The final layer of guards unlock the heavy wooden gate. The well oiled hinges only make the smallest squeak. Pearl’s mouth tightens into a hard line. In the wheelchair, Jimmy finches away, then whips his head in the direction of the hinges. And the guards.

They look as if they’re going to jump out of their skin. No one has good memories of the infected. Pearl gives Scott a gentle shove to his shoulder and he starts moving again. She waves at the guards. “Just making sure our guests end up safely away from us,” Pearl explains.

The guards nod and watch as Jimmy and Scott pass through. Footsteps and groans once again are their only companions. After an hour of walking, Scott’s emotions clear enough for him to speak.

“You can return to the Murder Camel,” Scott whispers. Pearl looks away from the horizon, leaving her hand on the end of her sickle. “You’ve done enough for us–me.” Scott pauses as his voice breaks. “Thank you.”

Pearl’s eyebrows furrow in concern. She steps forward and hugs Scott. Her arms are solid, her embrace warm. Scott turns into the hug and Pearl strokes his back. “It’s going to be okay.” Scott wishes that were true.

Scott thought he had it together. He wouldn’t cry in front of Pearl again. He’s going to let her last image of him be someone strong. Someone who can hold themselves together after a difficult decision.

It all falls apart once she wraps her cloak around him.

He grips the back of her shirt like it was a life raft in a stormy sea. And he cries. He cries for his husband. Their dream is gone, blown up in front of them the second that infected got too close. He cries until his head hurts, then he cries some more. Scott feels Pearl’s chin move on his shoulder. She’s looking around, making sure nothing is attracted to Scott’s crying. Once he can’t cry anymore, Scott pulls away.

The front of Pearl’s shirt is a mess. Crumpled and wet with tears and snot. “I can take it from here,” says Scott, his voice hoarse.

Pearl doesn’t smile, he couldn’t take any more of her sorrowful looks if she did. “I’ll leave this in your hands, then. And if you need anything,” she says after a pause, “you know where to find me.”

Scott wipes at his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “I won’t need anything, we’re going home.” Scott turns into the rising sun and starts walking, ignoring Pearl’s worried shout.

“Scott! Scott, what are you doing!”

He knows she won’t follow. She can’t, she has responsibilities and can’t throw away the protection of an entire group on one sad, half-widow. The road stretches before him, cracked pavement making the wheelchair’s progress slow. Scott and Jimmy pass a concrete building barely holding itself up. Scott’s brain makes the connection before he can stop it. He looks down at Jimmy, “Remember when we first met?” A bitter chuckle escapes Scott, “Thought I was the most fortunate person in the world.”

Silence fills the air as they continue. After a minute, Jimmy growls. “Fine, I’ll tell the story, but don’t complain if I tell it wrong.” Grief continues to stab at his heart. It’s still raw, but he continues. A part of him was prepared for an outcome like this, and it’s almost cathartic to poke the wound. He whispers his story to Jimmy as they travel, keeping his voice low for Jimmy’s sake and their own safety.

Chapter Text

Scott dug through the fridge, hoping he could somehow find the one thing not rotting. The power grid had collapsed maybe a week ago. Scott couldn’t tell, the weeks were blending together as he focused on surviving. He kept looking over his shoulder. Having his head in a rotting fridge was just asking for one of those creatures to sneak up on him. Scott frowned, this breakroom was a bust. Nothing edible was left in the fridge.

Maybe the produce barely hanging on could make the trip worth something, but Scott didn’t like the idea of risking food poisoning. He closed the door with a sigh. His luck was running out. Maybe going into the forest wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Scott heard footsteps behind him. He spun around, makeshift staff in hand, and waited. The steps got closer and closer, until two sets of fingers grabbed the door frame. They weren’t rotten, the skin still full of circulating blood. To be on the safe side, Scott held his staff firm. A full head of hair appeared. Rough for wear, but no signs of it falling out or the scalp rotting off. Then a forehead, also not showing any signs of decay. Then eyes. Warm, and alive brown eyes.

A human.

They looked at each other with wide eyes.

The other’s lips slightly part, maybe to speak, but Scott beat him to it. “Are you real?”

The other human patted himself down, taking stock of his own realness. He held up his hands and shrugged. “Pretty sure.”

Scott stepped forward. Weeks of being on the run and learning how to survive had not been good for his nervous system. His body was tired, and every shadow or rustle set him on edge. Finally seeing another person put him on the brink of collapse. He reached out and grabbed the man’s jacket. Scott shook the arm, staring at the way it moved like it should. No sign of rigor mortis setting in. The alive man chuckled quietly.

“You are real,” Scott breathed.

“Excuse me, one second.” The other man returned Scott’s prodding. He grabbed Scott’s face and tilted it back and forth, even up and down. Staring straight into Scott’s eyes. Once satisfied, he let go.

“I’m Jimmy,” the man said. He held out a hand in the small space between them. Scott stared at it in disbelief.

“Scott,” Scott rushed to say. He took the offered hand with his free one and shook it. It was calloused, dry, but most importantly: warm.

Jimmy turned his attention to the open fridge. “Have you found anything?”

“It’s been picked clean of usable items. Anything else is rotten.” Scott didn’t stop looking at Jimmy.

“Well, shoot. Do you know of anywhere else to look?”

“The next floor, but that brings the risk of running into an unseemly creature.” The shock of seeing a live human was slowly ebbing. Scott’s brain finally caught up with what Jimmy was wearing.

He had black jeans on, dirt-caked, white sneakers, and a Captain America hoodie. A simple kitchen knife poked out of his belt loop. Cloth was wrapped around it in a make-shift sheath. No backpack straps or bags in sight.

Scott blinked.

What was Jimmy thinking? No backpack? Did he even have supplies? If not, how had he survived this long? And if he did have supplies, where were they?

“Maybe it’s worth the risk,” Jimmy said. He turned around and walked out of the remains of a break room.

Neither had let go of the other’s hand. Scott was being dragged through a maze of cubicles by either the dumbest or luckiest man he had ever met. He dug his heels in, forcing Jimmy to stop. Scott pulled him close and talked in a hushed tone.

“We literally just met. What are you doing?” He gestured to Jimmy’s lack of any form of bag. “And what is this?”

“My Captain America jumper. It’s my favorite jumper, I was lucky I was wearing it when everything came down,” Jimmy stated. Scott stared at him. He decided this was the luckiest man he had ever met. And the most oblivious.

“A bag? To carry supplies?” The relief that washed over him a minute ago was being replaced with annoyance. “Where is it?” Scott hissed.

The meaning dawned on Jimmy’s face. “Oh, yeah, I just use my pockets.” He stuck a hand in his hoodie pocket to show it off. “It’s bigger than you think.”

Scott sighed. If he was going to be accidentally teaming up with someone like Jimmy, they needed more resources. “Okay, we’ll look around the next floor. And please see if you can find a bag. Carrying supplies for two people sounds heavy.”

“Oh! Need me to take your bag?” Jimmy asked.

Scott gave Jimmy a confused look. “No, I can carry it myself.”

Jimmy slumped for a second, then straightened himself again. “I’ll lead the way,” he said.

He pulled Scott to the fire exit and they climbed the stairs together. Still hand in hand. Scott felt ridiculous, holding hands with a guy he just met like they were a love sick couple. When it was really just two lonely people who finally found someone alive.

They paused at the door to the next level. Jimmy released Scott’s hand to pull out his knife. He shoved the cloth into a pocket. Scott held his trusty stick in both hands, his stance wide.

He saw the first semblance of Jimmy’s survival skills then. Jimmy positioned himself so the door would be a shield as he opened it. They listened. When no obvious noise came through, Jimmy slowly pushed the door open.

Jimmy’s demeanor shifted once the door started moving. He looked like he could run at the drop of a hat, maybe even fend off an infected to get out. His eyes were narrowed, knife held close, and legs bent to bolt.

Scott placed himself on the other side of the doorway, keeping close to the wall. He couldn’t see around the door, so he watched Jimmy for a reaction.

Nothing happened as the door opened wider and wider. Jimmy slipped through, then Scott right behind him.

Scott crouched low and slipped through the cubicles. Jimmy stayed upright and looked around. He weaved through the area, clearly not on the same wavelength as Scott. He wanted to get in and get out, not check every nook for danger.

Scott found the break room while Jimmy wandered. He slipped in and rummaged through the corpse. First cabinet: nothing. Second: cups. Third: nothing useful. And on and on. The fridge didn’t smell as bad as the others he had found today.

He opened it and was greeted with a couple condiments and a bouquet of flowers.

Scott sighed. It wasn’t worth it to come up here. All he got was some tea bags and a party sized bag of Fritos. At least it was something, he reasoned. He left the room and looked around for Jimmy. If they lost each other, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Except the fact that the only human Scott had seen in weeks, maybe even a months, was gone.

He heard a chair get moved to his left. Scott hurried that way, hoping to grab Jimmy and get out.

A head jerked up from where a person was hunched over a desk. Scott froze. He brandished his stick and started backing up.

In his haste to find Jimmy, he hadn’t thought to label another body or noise as a threat. And there one was, staring him down with hunger and desire.

Its face was sliding off, leaving eyes and teeth too exposed. Its once nice work uniform was hanging off its shoulders, clinging to the last scraps of tissue. One eye looked Scott up and down, then the other followed.

The infected approached, moving like it didn’t know how a human walked, moving one leg, then the other, then lurching its torso forward. Scott was frozen as it found its rhythm, walking more and more like a human. Then it picked up its pace.

Scott backed up faster, not wanting to risk turning his back. He bumped into every cubicle as he tried to put distance between himself and the thing. It kept moving faster. Closer and closer.

Until.

Scott struck out, hitting the infected where its ears would have been. Then its knees. And, not waiting for it to get any closer, a strong jab to its middle.

Then he turned and ran. No sense waiting for Jimmy. If he had survived this long, he should have survived this office. Scott hurried down the stairs as silent as possible. Footsteps started following him, but he didn’t stop to check how human they were.

He just kept running.

He got to the main floor and dredged up a burst of speed to clear the wide open lobby. Then through the broken window. And he was hurrying down the street. His breathing was ragged, but he needed to find a spot to hole up for the night. The closest to him was a car. Clearly never going to work again.

Scott reached for the handle, but something grabbed his arm. He lashed out before taking stock of what it was.

Jimmy bent over, hand clutched to his chest, doing his best not to cry out and alert anything. “Oh my God, you have some swing,” he whispered. “I was going to bring you to my hideout.”

Scott’s heart pounded. He looked around. A shadow moved. “Sorry,” he hissed. “We need to go.”

Jimmy grabbed Scott’s jacket sleeve with his uninjured hand and hurried down the road. Scott kept looking around. Almost human forms looked out at them from the shadows, kept back by the sun. He glanced at the sun’s position. It was almost setting, they didn’t have much time.

Jimmy shoved Scott through a door, then locked it behind himself. He dragged Scott into the back and left him there. “It should be safe. I’ll be back.”

Scott took in the new area. It was the back kitchen of some small restaurant. Flour was stacked by the back door. Cans were on a cart near a rack of sodas to the right. Everything looked looted.

The cans were mostly gone, the flour opened up, soda almost gone. There was a trashcan off to the side filled with wrappers, cans, and bottles. There was no food that would explain the wrappers, most likely already eaten. A dishpit was off to the left side. Scott spotted a rack of knives and one of them was missing.

Now he knew where the knife came from. He smiled a little. Either it was the novelty of another person or his racing heart from fighting for his life, but Jimmy was growing on him, in a cheesy romance movie way.

Jimmy came back with water and slices of bread. “I double checked the area and got you some food.” He handed the provisions to Scott.

Scott took them gratefully. “Sorry again about your hand, I thought you were one of them.”

Jimmy shrugged as he climbed onto the table facing Scott. It jostled, threatening to tip over or break, but Jimmy didn’t bat an eye. Scott stayed standing while he ate. “You were running for your life. Some of my students would also get lost in their heads in high stake situations.” Scott looked at him. “Well, not as high stakes as your life on the line,” he rushed to add.

“You’re a teacher?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, a gym teacher.” He looked down, tapping his finger on the table top. “I hope they’re doing okay.”

“I’m sure their parents are taking care of them,” Scott said. He didn’t believe it, and by Jimmy’s lack of response, he didn’t either. But not thinking of everything that was lost was how you got through times like these.

They sat in silence until Jimmy piped up. “About that team up.” He produced a flower from his hoodie pocket. “Is this enough of an offer?” He handed it out to Scott.

Scott took it. The flower was a sad poppy, its petals were crushed and wilting, and its black seeds were crumbling off. Despite this Scott felt his lips start to pull into a genuine smile. “I’d say this is enough.”

“I can find a bag….somewhere.” Jimmy looked around his immediate vicinity. “You shouldn’t have to carry everything.”

Scott tucked the poppy behind his ear. “We’ll find you a bag eventually. I’m sure there’s one floating around.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah. I never thought of it. When you stay in one spot, you know?”

“I haven’t stayed longer than a night anywhere,” stated Scott. And in that moment, he felt it, the difference in their experience up until now.

Jimmy had found a safe place with food and holed up for a while. Scott had been on the road, fighting for his life, in the same time frame. Even their clothes showed their differing experiences. Scott could feel the hours on the road and sleeping in the same clothes. He knew his hair was a mess, his jean jacket filthy beyond repair, and his shoes were on their way out. Jimmy looked more put-together. Still worn, but not road-worn.

Jimmy’s hair looked like it was at least washed with water regularly. And his clothes didn’t have a mosaic of dirt plastered on them.

Jimmy coughed awkwardly at the silence that descended on them. “I’ll show you around,” he said.

Scott downed the last of the offered water and pushed off the wall. “Sure.” He tucked the poppy into the side of his backpack.

Jimmy relaxed, an easy smile spreading across his face. Scott felt his smile from earlier return in response. Without thinking, he grabbed the back of Jimmy’s hoodie. The other man paused, looking over his shoulder curiously. He twisted and took Scott’s hand. Scott released the hoodie and let his hand fit into Jimmy’s. He brought his stick and backpack with him. Couldn’t be too safe.

The tour was short. Jimmy showed him the makeshift bed, made out of cheap table cloths and unfolded to-go boxes. The windows were boarded up to keep any wandering eyes off the living inside. Scott knew the screws wouldn’t hold if more than one of the creatures tore at it. It was better than nothing, though.

“You’ve already seen the kitchen,” he said. Jimmy pushed a door on the far side of the dining room open. “Here’s the bathroom. There’s still running water and soap.”

Scott noticed Jimmy left out “for now.” He took the unsaid offer of cleaning himself. His weapon and supplies came into the small room with him. He heard Jimmy start moving, then pause. No more sounds of movement came from beyond the bathroom door.

Scott set about cleaning his jacket and doing his best to clean himself with a sink and hand soap. Not wanting to risk the loss of running water in the morning, Scott set about cleaning every other piece of clothing he had.

He didn’t look in the mirror.

Once he and his clothes were as clean as they could get, Scott got dressed. He put on the damp, necessary items: underwear and pants. Scott kept his jacket, socks, and shirt off. No use wearing cold and damp clothes if he could avoid it. He gathered up his backpack and weapon, draping his clothes over his free arm. Scott grimaced as he slipped on his shoes. Better to have shoes on in case of an emergency than to walk around barefoot.

Jimmy was sitting with his back against the wall when Scott opened the door. “Hey,” he greeted. Jimmy looked up from where he was playing with his hoodie’s strings. His eyebrows raised, then he looked away. “Not expecting to get this far?”

Jimmy cleared his throat. “I was going to start dinner. Did you want to join me?”

“Wow, a date already?” Asked Scott.

Jimmy looked like he’d been caught red handed. “No, I…” He trailed off, then stood up. “Join-“ he started and stopped, trying to find a better phrase. “Going to the kitchen,” Jimmy finally managed.

Scott’s heart had sped up and for a second he worried something was wrong. He looked around and saw no immediate threat. Scott choked his elevated heart rate up to Jimmy. He really was in some silly romance movie.

He put the silly idea aside and followed Jimmy.

“You can put your clothes on the drying rack.” Jimmy gestured to the wire racks of dishes.

Scott judged the distance of the rack to the door. He mentally planned how fast it would take him to grab his clothes if all hell broke loose. “I’ll keep holding them.”

“What about your bag?” Asked Jimmy.

“Keeping it nearby.”

“Same with the stick?”

“Yup.” Scott tensed up again. Was Jimmy trying to disarm him? He gripped his weapon tighter.

“Okay,” was all Jimmy said. He started digging through the cans and left over provisions.

Scott stood awkwardly to the side as Jimmy lit a fire in one of the ovens. He tried to help, but Jimmy waved him off.

“You’ve been through enough while I lounged around here. The least I can do is make you food.” He pulled back from putting a can near the fire.

Jimmy leaned against a nearby table. He crossed his arms and kept his eyes on the can. Scott moved to stand next to Jimmy.

“What did you do before this?” Jimmy asked.

Scott stared into the small fire, watching the flames brush against the sides of the oven. “I got a degree in art. Only got to put it to use for commissions, I hadn’t managed to make any well selling comics or animations before everything went belly up.”

“I was a gym teacher.”

“You already told me that. Did you think I’d forget something about my teammate?” Scott joked.

“Just checking.” Jimmy smiled.

“Anything else about the you before?” Scott asked.

Jimmy’s face fell. “I had a cat.”

Scott’s chest squeezed. The room lost all its heat and comfort. He looked down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jimmy was silent. Scott watched from the corner of his eye as Jimmy moved towards the oven again. He took out the can with mitts and placed it on the table to cool. After Jimmy left and came back with spoons, he started talking again.

“Everything turned on a dime while I was at work. I tried to go back…” He trailed off, head hung. Scott wanted to place a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” was all Scott said.

Jimmy wiped his eyes. “It’s been a while, I’m used to it now.”

They were silent again, then, “his name was Norman….big man Norman.”

Scott couldn’t bear to see his host—his teammate—like this. He ditched the items in his arms and put a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy looked over at him. “Need a hug?” He asked.

Jimmy looked at him with watery eyes, then with no regard to Scott being a shirtless stranger, wrapped his arms around him. Scott hugged back, feeling a bit awkward. The apocalypse did strange things to people.

<———————>

After dinner, Scott’s clothes were dry enough. He slipped his shirt, socks, and jacket back on. They couldn’t tell how dark it was outside, but fatigue pulled at their limbs.

Scott hit the metaphorical wall before Jimmy. The other man was dulled by the talk before dinner, but he didn’t seem to be forcing his eyes open. Scott wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. Relative safety and a warm meal was doing a number on his usual preparedness.

They went around the restaurant and checked the doors and every board. Despite Jimmy telling Scott to get some sleep, he joined the nightly check. He didn’t want to sleep in an area he hadn’t personally checked. Scott did notice every piece of plywood was bowing.

After the checks, the two climbed into the makeshift bed. Jimmy laid down while Scott sat up, leaning his back against the wall. His bag and staff were beside him.

“It’s not weird if you lay down,” Jimmy said.

“I need to be prepared to run,” Scott said. He kept his eyes forward. He felt Jimmy’s gaze on him, and when he glanced over, Jimmy’s brows were furrowed. “I mean, you already want to sleep with me?” Scott forced the joke as a way to ease the situation, he knew he looked paranoid.

Jimmy’s eyebrows raised again and he looked like a deer in headlights. Then he schooled his expression. “We’re safe here, you can lay down.”

“I can handle sleeping like this,” Scott replied.

Jimmy shifted and sat himself next to Scott. “Then I’ll keep you company.”

Something sweet bloomed in Scott’s chest. It wasn’t the joy of seeing another person again or fondness over a new companion, or even a silly crush. It was the sweetness of someone offering to just be there. To exist in the same space as him just so he wasn’t alone.

This was the best thing Scott had ever found.

Scott’s head dipped down as sleep tried settling over him. He kept his eyes open as long as possible. Jimmy fell asleep first, his head ending up resting on Scott’s shoulder. Despite his determination, Scott passed out.

>———Now————<

Scott finds an abandoned car. The end of the world was rich with them, it was its best export. He ties an unimportant rope from Jimmy’s bonds around the handle to keep him in place. Scott scouts the area in the growing dark, looking for any food or water. He mentally kicks himself for not grabbing any provisions when he left the Murder Camel.

Finding only a small trickle, he calls it good and drinks what he can. Scott comes back to the car and gets in, locking the doors behind him. He reclines the seat and looks out at the fading sunlight. Jimmy is silhouetted. Scott can almost visualize Jimmy’s face and how it would look.

“We’ll be home in two days,” Scott whispers. Jimmy’s head turns towards him. It doesn’t frighten Scott. None of the infected do, not anymore. “We’ll be together again, I promise.”

Grief wells up and fills Scott in all the places Jimmy would have been. It fills the passenger seat and chokes him. Scott doesn’t fight it, he allows himself to float through the wave. He closes his eyes and lets the tears fall until he’s asleep.

Chapter Text

Scott had slept poorly, like every night since the breakout. This time, his poor sleep wasn’t only due to nerves and an awkward sleeping position, but also to the person leaning on his shoulder. After Scott had slept off his initial exhaustion, Jimmy’s every movement had woken him up.

Once Jimmy had woken up for the morning, he stretched and rubbed a crick in his neck. Scott sat up at the movement, and Jimmy jumped.

“Oh, did I wake you?” Jimmy whispered.

Scott rubbed his eyes. “No,” he shook his head. “I’ve been sleeping off and on for hours now.”

Jimmy’s mouth opened to say something, but he instead crawled out of the bed. “I’m going to make some breakfast.” He turned back to hold a hand out to Scott.

Scott took the offered hand. “Sure, I’ll join. I might have to check my schedule, though.”

“I hope you’re free, I’d like to get to know you more,” Jimmy said. A smile was obvious in his voice.

“Lucky for you, I think you’re cute enough to move some events around,” Scott joked back.

He couldn’t see Jimmy’s face as he pulled Scott to the kitchen, but Scott did notice his hand slackened just a fraction. Scott tightened his own grip to keep them together.

Breakfast was another can. It wasn’t heated up this time; Jimmy only had so much fire starter.

“I—we can go out and get more,” Scott offered.

“Yeah.” Scott waited for Jimmy to add something. “It’s a risk, though. It was a real struggle to get all this wood over the windows, not to mention cutting wood for fire.” He opened the can. “Those zombies are an absolute force.”

Scott stared at the can of olives. His first encounter with the infected flashed in his mind. Banging on his door, wood splintering under the force. Him throwing every item he could think of in a bag. His phone ringing off the hook. He hadn’t had time to answer it before the creature broke through.

The creature had splinters stuck in its skin. It was still fresh, with no rotting skin, and its body was intact. There was still something off about it. Its skin didn’t seem to fold the way it should, and it moved like it had just put on a human suit. Scott had watched as its body moved separately from its head. As the head swung around, the body pivoted as if it too was looking.

Scott was frozen with terror. No human would allow dozens of splinters to stay in their skin. And no human would let their hands look like bloody tendrils of meat. Its arms hung limp at its side and swayed with the body’s movement.

Once the creature noticed Scott, he thought it smiled. It could have bared its teeth at him. All he knew was that after he saw teeth, it sprinted towards him. It hadn’t cared for the furniture in the way and tripped. Scott was forever glad for that damn side table he always bumped into. It had given him enough time to unglue himself from where he was in his bedroom and scramble through the window.

He hadn’t grabbed his phone.

He often thought of who was calling.

Wondered if they were alive.

Scott blinked himself back to the present. Jimmy was looking at him. Scott looked up from the fork to Jimmy.

“Agreed,” he finally said.

Jimmy must have seen something in Scott’s face because he reached over and pulled Scott into a side hug. He shifted so when Jimmy let go of Scott’s shoulder, they were still close.

They finished the olives with a quiet conversation about nothing. Scott enjoyed being around someone who wasn’t in his life before the outbreak. He tried not to think about the people Jimmy reminded him of, instead, he focused on the present.

Scott told Jimmy the cliff notes about how colors work. It was a nice distraction from his memory. Jimmy told Scott about Marvel, jumping around like his thoughts were going faster than his mouth.

Before they knew it, it was late morning. They had moved from leaning on a table to sitting on the floor. Light pushed through the cracks in the wood barriers stronger than earlier. Scott stared at the light, trying to figure out what time of day it was.

“Longest time you’ve stayed in one place?” Jimmy asked.

Scott shot upward. He had gotten distracted for the first time in a long time. He had let his guard down for hours, what if something had happened? He would be toast; his body would continue on without its previous controller.

He hurried to where he had left his bag and staff. Jimmy’s footsteps sounded behind him. Scott slipped on his shoes, still in disbelief over his lack of preparedness, and threw his backpack on. The poppy fell out and fluttered down to the ground. Scott and Jimmy looked at it.

Jimmy picked it up before Scott could reach down. He sighed, then tucked it into Scott’s hair. “I’m sure you’ll be back,” he said.

Scott stood there, frozen. Jimmy had his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of what to say.

Scott didn’t want to leave his one form of human connection. He hadn’t planned on it, but with the possibility left in the air, he was scared. Scott was worried Jimmy might not want to be around someone as on edge as him. He didn’t want to stay in one place, but he didn’t want to go out alone again. He was scared of being pushed out, he was scared of being alone again, and he was scared of staying.

And that damn flower. A peace offering for Scott. Jimmy got more out of the arrangement; he got someone who knew at least enough to survive this long on the run. But after at least a month of running, Scott couldn’t put a price on safety.

He made up his mind.

Scott moved forward, closing the distance and embracing Jimmy. Jimmy hugged back.

“I’ll see you later,” Jimmy whispered.

Scott realized his mistake. “No, I’m staying.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Jimmy gasped. “I didn’t want to be alone again.”

“Me too,” Scott murmured. He knew it was true, but he wasn’t ready to make it true out loud yet.

Jimmy let go first. “Do we have a plan?”

“Shoot,” Scott put a small distance between him and Jimmy. “You need a back pack. We can go scavenging.”

“You don’t like staying in one spot for long,” Jimmy said.

“I don’t.”

“We can leave this place, stay on the road….” Jimmy started playing with his hoodie strings

Scott glanced around. “You don’t want to leave, do you?”

“No, but I don’t think this place is able to be permanent.” Jimmy looked at the plywood. “The wood won’t hold for long.”

Scott followed Jimmy’s gaze. The plywood closest to the bed was splintering, clearly having been pushed to its limits last night. Scott was grateful it didn’t come through while he slept. “This place has too many….” Scott didn’t know what to call the creatures. “Too many zombies,” he settled on. Jimmy had used that term, but it just didn’t feel correct.

“I try to move the bed around, but the zombies are getting more aggressive.” Jimmy looked back to the kitchen. “And I’m running out of rations here.”

Scott couldn’t believe he had been brought to a dangerous place. His assumption of Jimmy yesterday was correct. His thoughts raced. “Then we need to leave. I refuse to let either of us sit here and wait for a zombie to break through.” Scott was scared, but he was determined. Fear was his favorite tormentor.

Jimmy crossed his arms in thought. “Where could we go? We still need to gather supplies to survive.”

Scott didn’t take his eyes off the plywood. “The woods.”

Jimmy straightened. “I know the back roads of the city. They should be less populated.”

“But less light,” Scott said. Night allowed the creatures to wander more, in the day they kept to the shadows. Unless they were newly infected.

“It’s a risk, sure, but so is taking major roads,” Jimmy said.

“Major roads have more sun and more visibility,” Scott argued.

“Did you use the highway to get here?” Jimmy asked.

Scott tightened his hold on his staff involuntarily. “Not all the time.”

Jimmy turned and traveled to the kitchen. “Guess that’s settled.”

Scott followed slowly, looking closely at each bowed panel and each seam. He couldn’t see dried blood or decaying flesh stuck to the seams. And no creature pounded on the wood in response to him. He continued on to the kitchen.

Jimmy was standing in front of a map taped to the walk in. He was tracing roads with his fingers and muttering to himself.

“Planning our route?” Scott asked.

Jimmy jumped. “Yeah.”

“How often have you been out of this place?” Scott asked.

“I grew up in the city, but since I found this restaurant, I hadn’t left to get supplies.” He glanced over at Scott. “The first time I left was when I met you.”

“Guess I got lucky,” Scott said, warmly.

“Me too.”

Jimmy planned the route while Scott stood guard and offered advice. He wasn’t told to stay vigilant, but one doesn’t survive the apocalypse by relaxing. Unless you’re Jimmy.

“I came from that road, you don’t want to go that way,” Scott commented. He was pretty sure that was the road he took into town just two days ago.
“Why?” Jimmy asked.

Scott turned away from the map again and stared out. “It’s destroyed, as if to keep the creatures contained. All that the upheaval of the road did was give more hiding spots for zombies. I didn’t realize before stumbling upon it and by the time I realized it was too late to turn back.”

Another memory of running flashed through his head. He had dropped down from a chunk of asphalt jutting towards the sky. Before he could get to his feet, he had heard rocks tumbling. Then a hand had grabbed his ankle. Scott had fought the creature off and escaped with his life, but he never wanted to return there.

“Then we won’t go that way,” Jimmy stated.

Eventually, a route was planned. Jimmy used a Sharpie to draw in the route, then carefully took the map off the walk-in. Scott’s posture relaxed when Jimmy turned to him with the map folded up. “Guess this is it,” Jimmy said.

Scott gave Jimmy a smile to try to ease his nerves. “It was a nice place to stay for the night.”

Jimmy returned the uneasy smile. “Thank you.” He gestured to Scott’s bag, the mood shifting. “Is there any more room in there? There’s some supplies in here that could be useful.”

“It’s pretty full, let me see what I can do.” Scott set his backpack down on a nearby table and propped his staff next to him. He emptied the bag out and sorted through the supplies. Jimmy came up next to him. He picked up a portable charging block.

“You were prepared.” Jimmy looked through the rest of the items while Scott sorted them. “Where’s the phone? It’s kind of weird to have a charger but no phone.”

“I didn’t have time to grab it,” Scott said as he put the first aid kit back in his bag. “A zombie came through the door as I was packing, and my phone was too far away.”

Jimmy took the charger out of the ‘leave behind’ pile Scott had. “I still have my phone. I barely use it and the service is non-existent now, but it’s still an option.”

Scott took the charger from Jimmy. “Sure.”

Jimmy smiled and handed over his phone as well. “I’m going to grab the supplies. I’ll be back.”

Scott tucked the phone and charger carefully into an inner pocket. He left the food out and packed away the last couple of items: a flashlight, extra batteries, and a blanket. When Jimmy returned, Scott sent him with a water bottle to fill up and a quest for ibuprofen and another water bottle.

Jimmy had brought over a better array of food than Scott already had in his backpack. Canned olives, dried noodles, a lighter, canned chili, and canned tomato sauce. This restaurant clearly wasn’t the most gourmet, but it worked well for them. Scott squeezed everything he could into the backpack. He had to leave behind the pasta due to the awkward shape and the fact that carrying a cooking pot might be too cumbersome. Jimmy came back successful; he had two water bottles full of water and a half-used bottle of ibuprofen.

“Who knew restaurants had pain meds just lying around?” He commented. “I mean, I did.”

“It feels weird taking from people,” Scott said as he packed away the ibuprofen. “I’ve taken food from people all this time, but this feels wrong.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy glanced at the front windows. “They won’t be needing it, though.”

“I sure hope not,” Scott said. He slung the bag back on. “Ready to go?”

Jimmy played with his hoodie strings again. He looked around the kitchen. His brow was furrowed, and his mouth was a tight line. “I think so…” He trailed off.

Scott reached out with his free hand and stilled one of Jimmy’s worrying hands. “We’re in this together.”

“I know…” Jimmy pulled away, and Scott worried for a moment that he’d done something wrong. “Let me grab one last thing.”

Not wanting to leave Jimmy alone again, Scott followed him. Jimmy swiped a screwdriver from a table. “A tool or a weapon, whichever we need.”

“Where could we find screws in the woods?” Scott asked.

Jimmy tucked the screwdriver in his back pocket. “While we’re on the road.” And Scott knew he wasn’t winning. They had a screwdriver now that might be useless, but at least Jimmy had another weapon. Jimmy took one last look around the dining room, eyes hovering on the cracking plywood. “Let’s leave.”

Scott nodded and followed Jimmy to the back door. When Jimmy hesitated to push it open, Scott slipped his free hand into Jimmy’s. Jimmy glanced back for a second, then pushed.

The sunlight pierced Scott’s retinas, and he blinked until his eyes adjusted. They left the alleyway and set out, the sun protecting them from its perch in the sky.

>---------Now-------------<

Scott wakes up from the dregs of sleep slowly. His eyes are crusty, and his mouth is parched. The lack of food is making itself known as his stomach urges him to eat. Scott reaches out, and when he feels no one, he looks over. Jimmy is outside, his covered head pressed against the glass. Scott is confused for the briefest moment, then he remembers.

His dream tricked him.

He’s not on the road with the true Jimmy.

Forgotten grief wells up in Scott again. It’s sharper this time, as if during the night it had time to whet its blade. He chokes out a sob as he lays his head against the headrest. “I need to keep moving,” he whispers. “We need to get home.”

Scott wipes his eyes as his heart tears apart again. He wants to lay down and wait for sleep to consume him again. But if he does that, they can’t be together. That thought gives him the ounce of strength it takes to get out of the car. He unties Jimmy and pushes himself again to continue on.

“We’re going home, just one more day after this,” Scott repeats to himself. He drags himself forward, one step at a time. He’s not leaving Jimmy to wander the world as a creature in an unfamiliar place. “You’re not alone,” Scott whispers. “You won’t be alone.”

And just like on that first day, they walk into the distance with the sun as their protector.

Scott wonders if it would have been better to stay in that restaurant. To let the infected come in through the plywood and attack. To carry the virus early on and succumb together.

Even if that world seemed sweeter than this one, Scott knew he wouldn’t trade what he had. Those beautiful six years. Feeling safe even when they were running for their lives. He would give anything to go back to any point after they met, even in the stress riddled beginning and last hours. Anything but this.

Scott closes his eyes for a minute. He keeps walking. He can’t stop putting one foot in front of the other. For Jimmy.

Tears creep down his cheeks. His ability to cry still surprises him.

“I love–” Scott stops himself. Sorrow stabs his chest and makes him feel like his ribs are breaking.

One step at a time, he continues to push Jimmy in silence.

Chapter Text

This was bad. Scott was getting weird around Jimmy. Sure, he was weird before, holding hands with a stranger, walking around shirtless, sleeping in the same bed, but this was different. His heart kept speeding up when they laid down for the night. He had become aware of Jimmy being too close, yet too far away. And when they held hands, Scott never wanted to let go.

It had been weeks of this.

He didn’t want to ruin the relationship he had with the one living person he knew about, so he pushed the feelings down. Those were for a future Scott who was more put together and currently wasn’t trekking through a small town in search of a place to call home. They hadn’t even had any serious talks about their pasts. Whenever the past was brought up, the other said, “Sorry,” and then comforted him.

And what were the chances Jimmy would like him back? Scott decided it was best for a friendship to develop and keep it that way. Just friends, Scott could live with that.

And how could a relationship that sprang from running for one’s life even last?

Scott was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice when Jimmy stopped. He ran into Jimmy’s back and stumbled back. That was another thing, Jimmy was making Scott soft. The edge he had whetted against the horrors of this new world was dulling.

“What were you thinking about?” Jimmy asked.

Scott glanced at their intertwined hands. “Our team,” he forces nonchalance.

Jimmy’s pupils dilate, then he turns away. “There might be a backpack I can take.” He pointed towards a small one-story house. There was a Subaru with broken windows in the driveway. The windows were smashed, and dried blood flaked off the sides. On the back were bumper stickers that said things like ‘Real girls hike’ and ‘The mountains are calling, I must go’.

“Let’s go.”

They let go of each other’s hands and brandish their weapons. Jimmy takes the lead, and Scott covers him. The door was barely hanging on by the hinges. Dried blood was splattered along the door, and shriveled skin, muscle, and fat hung off the wood. They crept in, keeping ears and eyes open for any infected.

There was only one room, a living room, a bathroom, and a kitchen to check. Jimmy stood guard while Scott filled their water again. He swiped some soap on their way out, stuffing it into Jimmy’s hoodie pocket for temporary keeping. Their next stop was the bedroom. It had a large closet, and this time Scott stood guard while Jimmy entered. After a couple of minutes, Jimmy came back with a pink hiking pack. It had the hip and chest straps and everything.

“Quite the find, huh?” Jimmy said as he held it up.

“Cute,” Scott said. “And it’ll make you easy to spot.”

Jimmy slung the bag over his shoulder. “Better start pilfering this poor woman’s kitchen.”

They walked back through the hall and to the kitchen. It was a nice little home, if one ignored the obvious signs of a struggle. There was barely any blood, but pictures were knocked over and knick-knacks were strewn about the whole house. They picked their way over the mine field and entered the kitchen.

There was a smashed vase on the floor, and fake flowers were scattered all over. While Jimmy started digging through cabinets, Scott crouched down and picked up the flowers. He really shouldn’t keep them; they’re not a necessity and would just take up space. But they were cute. He put them on the counter with a heavy heart and went to help Jimmy with scavenging.

They left the kitchen with a hefty haul of food and more water. Scott forced himself not to look at the lovely flowers on the counter. He did swipe a fake aster he spotted on his way out. The poppy had sadly died last week, and Scott missed the simple flower. He tucked it into his inner pocket with a small smile. Jimmy slid in next to him, and they exited the house.

As they got back on the road, Jimmy bumped his shoulder into Scott’s. “So, I’ve finally got a bag. Anything you want to tell me?”

Scott’s mind went to his dilemma first, and for a second, he entertained the thought of telling Jimmy. Scott forced his thoughts back on track and returned his hand to Jimmy’s. “Maybe risk a library, if we stumble upon one? We don’t know how to live in the woods, and a book could help,” Scott explained.

“I was a scout at one point growing up, I know some stuff,” boasted Jimmy. He gave Scott a smug grin. “Bet you weren’t expecting that.”

“It makes sense, given that you were a gym teacher,” Scott said.

Jimmy huffed. “Nothing I say surprises you.”

“Sorry.” Scott leaned closer to Jimmy, relishing the closeness. “If it makes you feel better, you surprise me with your actions.” Jimmy’s ability to luck out at the last second kept surprising Scott. Being around the other man showed Scott how his own story could have been different.

“And what have I surprised you with?” Jimmy asked.

“Surviving.”

“Rude. You’re acting like it’s a miracle I made it this far, when I clearly had things under control,” said Jimmy. He didn’t sound offended, just returning Scott’s tease.

“Well, you were living a posh life while I was fighting for my life every day,” Scott shot back.

Jimmy was quiet for a second, then said, “Guess you could say some of my luck was keeping you alive. So we could meet.”

Scott glanced over at Jimmy. There was a pink tinge that Jimmy wasn’t even trying to hide. Scott tested the waters. “Thank you. I’m glad I got to meet my handsome savior.”

Jimmy smiled as more color covered his cheeks and he rolled his eyes. “Okay, you.” Scott smiled to himself.

They continued on in silence. Scott watched the shadows. He saw creatures looking out at them. Some tried to brave the sun, but cringed at the brightness and fell back. Every time Scott saw a zombie approach, the grip on his staff tightened.

“Back to the library option,” Scott started, eyes still on the shadows. He glanced over at Jimmy for a second and was almost pulled away from his fears. Almost. “Having a book on homesteading or edible plants could help us, even if you were a scout.”

Jimmy nodded. “Makes sense.”

“You’re quite the yes man, huh?” Scott asked.

“You just have good points,” Jimmy stated.

“Okay,” Scott started. “Why don’t you tell me to do something?”

Jimmy’s free hand went to the chest strap on his backpack. Scott watched as he unbuckled that strap, then the one that settled on his hips. “Indulge in what you like sometimes, especially in times like these.” He let go of Scott’s hand and slipped his pack off. He opened it and fished out a bouquet of fake flowers. “You looked at them so fondly, then left them behind. I grabbed them since I had room. I even saw how happy that other flower made you.”

Scott stared at the flowers. Jimmy separated a poppy from the rest of the bouquet and tucked it behind Scott’s ear. Before Jimmy put the flowers away, he grabbed another poppy and stuck it behind Jimmy’s ear. “Now we’re matching.”

Jimmy looked down sheepishly as he tucked the flowers back in his pack. “Yeah.”

Once they were repacked and on their way again, Scott glanced at Jimmy’s profile. “So…Do we want to talk about that?”

Why not address the elephant in the room? Jimmy was just talking about indulging himself, and Scott wanted to indulge himself.

“I just gave you a flower.”

“And it’s a beautiful flower.” Scott intertwined his fingers with Jimmy’s. Maybe he could have some fun with this. “Maybe I want to indulge in you.”

Jimmy choked on air, and Scott smiled.

Movement caught the corner of his eye and changed the mood of the conversation. Scott turned his head towards it and saw a creature that had its eyes torn out. He moved before his brain caught up. Jimmy reacted quickly. They let go of each other's hands and started running. Scott glanced over his shoulder to see the zombie snapping its head towards them and picking up its pace.

“Have you figured out how to kill these things?” Jimmy gasped.

“No,” Scott replied. “Only how to knock them away.”

The realization that their one advantage might be diminished with other zombies settled heavily over Scott. If this one had lost its eyes, there could be so many more. Scott kicked himself for not thinking of this before. He tried to think of some other way to deter the infected for now. If light hurt their eyes, maybe they were sensitive to all kinds of sensory input? The main input they had at their disposal was touch. But that required slowing down and getting in range. If hitting the creature with a stick really hard didn’t work, Scott would be toast.

But it had sort of worked before. At least in the office, and his memories of that near-death death in the rubble may be vague, but Scott was sure that part of his escape involved hitting one of the reaching hands really hard. Maybe he could give it a shot here. Jimmy could back him up.

Scott slowed, fighting against the way his chest constricted. His hands shook as he gripped his staff. Then, he turned around, planted his feet, and braced. Scott heard Jimmy stop behind him. They both stopped moving.

The creature closed in on them fast, and Scott lashed out. He hit the side of the infected neck, hoping a sensitive place would lead to a greater effect. The decaying flesh broke on the impact, and the brittle bone snapped. Scott watched as the creature stumbled off balance due to its new status as a bobble head. It caught itself in a grotesque twist of its legs. Its torso leaned forward, then slowly crept back upright. The head was still attached to the neck, but barely. It paused.

Scott took a step back, then another. They turned and started running again.

“I can’t believe that worked!” Scott whispered.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Jimmy said. He had a big, beautiful smile on his face.

Scott let one spread along his own. He could allow himself a treat. Scott thought of spilling the beans right there, another impulsive act. He was about to when he remembered why he’d started keeping the secret. Scott wanted to spend more time with Jimmy before their feelings got in the way. He briefly touched the aster he tucked into his pocket. Scott knew some things about flowers and flower symbols; maybe he’d give a symbol of love to Jimmy later. For now, he was going to toe the line.

“It’s not stopping,” Jimmy gasped.

Scott snapped out of his thoughts about Jimmy for the umpteenth time that day. He looked over his shoulder and saw the creature awkwardly running with its head swinging. The head was slowly tearing off, the rotten flesh and brittle bone not enough to hold it on. It swayed to the creature’s movements, sending it off balance, but it was still moving toward them.

“Its head is practically detached, shouldn’t it be dead like in the movies?” Scott asked.

“Maybe this is different?” Jimmy replied.

Scott’s legs are burning, his lungs are burning. Fear is the only thing pushing him forward at this point. He wished they knew another weakness of these things so they could get out of here.

The sound of a watermelon being dropped occurred behind them. Scott glanced over his shoulder and saw the creature trip over its own head. Both Scott and Jimmy were shocked into freezing. They watched as the body lay slumped on the ground. Then it tried to get up, but toppled over. After a couple of tries, it somehow determined to crawl. Cerebrospinal fluid leaked out of the rotten neck. The body felt around with torn-up fingers, trying to find its way to Scott and Jimmy.

It wasn’t as aggressive without the head, but it was still a moving body THAT SHOULD BE DEAD.

Bile rose in Scott’s throat as he tried not to puke.

The body was getting closer.

Scott gripped his staff in both hands again and hit the creature. He hit it until it started shying away. And he kept hitting it. Jimmy had to pull him back. The creature wasn’t going to be stunned for a while, but at least it was stunned and handicapped enough to allow them to escape. And yet Scott still wanted to hit it.

“Scott, come on,” Jimmy urged. “Let’s go.”

Scott stared at the beaten body as Jimmy dragged him. He didn’t take his eyes off the direction they had come from until Jimmy shoved him down. Scott blinked at the sudden change in elevation. They were in a shed. Jimmy had propped storage totes against the door as a barrier and had already laid out their blankets and started dinner, while Scott had started at nothing.

Well, not nothing. He had stared at a thing that defied logic. A thing that had shown some semblance of learning. Its head had been knocked off, and it still lived. This meant so many things Scott wasn’t equipped to handle. He was an artist for crying out loud and now he was in a world where people got a virus that killed them and somehow allowed a body to survive without a brain. And the virus seemed capable of learning in some semblance of the word. The implication that froze Scott to his core was that this virus was a new brain.

Jimmy passed him water, and set a big bag of trail mix between them. “Are you okay? You got weird back there.”

Scott drank some water and took a handful of trail mix. “We’re screwed,” he said. He was defeated. All this time, he thought that maybe the typical weakness of zombies was his answer if he got into a tight corner. He never tried it. He never had the trust in his strength to cleave through a head with a stick. Now he knew there would never have been any chance.

“That was really messed up, what happened back there. That thing or zombie or whatever kept moving even after its head dropped.” Jimmy shuttered. “I’m never going to be able to unhear that sound.”

Scott pulled his knees close and rested his forehead on them. “What if….” Scott trailed off. He wanted to say “What if we gave up?”, but that didn’t sit right with him. And he really did want to give up, but Jimmy was right next to him, clearly trying to cheer Scott up. “Can we just….Talk for a bit?” Scott asked.

“Did you have something you wanted to say?” Jimmy replied. He glanced over and Scott felt like Jimmy wanted him to say something. Something related to the flower he had tucked behind Scott’s ear.

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it. The thought of a confession after that creature just felt wrong. He wanted to give Jimmy what he wanted, but how could Scott start a life in a world like this? Instead, he said, “The past. Let’s talk about that.”

Jimmy seemed to also hold back a response, then he dug through Scott’s bag until he produced his phone. Jimmy powered it on and scooted close to Scott. “I have some pictures I want to show you.”

Scott leaned against Jimmy’s shoulder while Jimmy scrolled through his camera roll. Jimmy showed him old Halloween photos. One had Jimmy looking like a fish man and the girl standing next to him looked like a blue human sized axolotl with pink hair.

“Who’s that?” Scott asked.

“That’s my sister, Lizzie.” Jimmy zoomed in, a distant look settling over his face. “This Halloween we went as an Ocean Queen and ‘the Codfather’.”

A quick laugh surprised Scott. He had forgotten that was possible. “The Codfather? You’re ridiculous.” Jimmy tensed up. “In a good way,” Scott added. “It’s endearing.”

“Lizzie and I used to go all out for Halloween until she had to leave for university.” Jimmy stared down at his phone. Scott wrapped an arm around Jimmy’s side and he leaned into the touch.

“I enjoyed going crazy over Halloween when I was younger. University sucked up most of my time, but I tried my best to go all out,” Scott said, trying to lead the conversation into happier memories.

“What was your favorite costume?” Jimmy asked, not looking away from his phone.

“A vampire.”

This made Jimmy look away from the photo of him and his sister. “A vampire? Isn’t that basic? I thought you would say something like ‘an elf with antlers and angel wings.’”

Scott lifted his head and side-eyed Jimmy. “Are you calling me basic?”

 

“What? No!” Jimmy turned so he was mostly facing Scott. Scott forced himself not to think of how close Jimmy’s face was. “You’re not basic at all, I promise! For starters…” Jimmy trailed off as he scanned Scott’s face.

Scott felt like he was being looked at too intently. Later he would want this, but right now he felt too fragile. Scott tapped the tip of Jimmy’s nose with his other hand. “Care to finish that sentence? Don’t get lost in my eyes, I still want to talk to you.”

Jimmy’s cheeks turned bright red and he looked more guilty than when Scott had stepped out of the bathroom shirtless. “I, uh, you’re you. I meant to say that,” Jimmy sputtered out.

Scott returned his head to Jimmy’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have expected white man number 47 to have weird costumes.”

“They’re not weird, they’re endearing. You said so yourself,” said Jimmy as he turned back to his phone.

He scrolled on. Scott was now able to pick out each photo with pink hair in it. Jimmy stopped at another of him and Lizzie again. She was in a beautiful wedding dress and was staring lovingly at the man across from her. “This was her wedding. Her husband’s Joel.” Jimmy swiped quickly through all the photos of the fan fare. “And this is my ex.”

The man was wearing sunglasses that were red and round, almost resembling giant eyes. His blonde hair was slicked back and it looked like a spikey fire. He was wearing a red suit and Jimmy had an arm looped over his shoulder. In the photo it was clear Jimmy was holding the phone as he planted a kiss on the other man’s cheek.

“You two look happy,” Scott offered. He had something else to say, but Jimmy spoke first.

“Yeah, it just ended up not working out.” Jimmy shrugged. “We ended on good terms, though.”

“That’s always nice.” Scott pointed at Jimmy’s screen. “Mind scrolling to the photos of the groomsmen?”

“I’m not in them, I was a guest from the bride’s side,” Jimmy said.

“I know.” When Jimmy stopped on the photo of Joel and his groomsmen, Scott gingerly lifted his hand up. “Can I?” Jimmy nodded and Scott zoomed in and panned along the faces. He stopped on his own. “I was there.”

Jimmy’s jaw dropped. “We were at the same wedding and I didn’t even realize?”

Scott chuckled. “You’re quite the observant one, aren’t you?”

“Is that why you trusted me so quickly early on?” Jimmy asked.

“Maybe, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t mingle with the guests much. I was in a time crunch for a commission and barely had enough time to be at the wedding.” Scott looked at the picture of past-Scott. He hadn’t started dying his hair regularly. His hair was nicely styled, barely a strand out of place. And past-Scott didn’t look run ragged, despite his memory of almost pulling an all nighter before the wedding.

He had almost met Jimmy. Their paths had been so close, and yet it had taken the end of the world for them to truly run into each other. Maybe they would have met if Scott and Joel hadn’t fallen out.

“I’m glad we got around to meeting each other later.” Jimmy took his free hand and brushed some of Scott’s hair back. “I like the dyed hair. It’s sad it won’t stay this pretty forever.”

It was at that moment Scott knew Jimmy would be his undoing. “I’m going to miss it as well.”

Jimmy lowered his hand and resumed the journey through his camera roll. He moved to an album titled ‘Pranks’. “I hope you don’t think I’m a cool guy,” Jimmy said as he opened the album.

Scott was then shown pictures of Jimmy being pranked by his friends. Every series of photos ended with Jimmy having the widest grin on his face. Scott felt like he was staring at the sun, and he didn’t want to look away. He felt the warmth of a bygone time through the phone. Scott wished he had managed to grab his phone so he could show Jimmy his own photos right now.

“I’m glad they didn’t damage your face too much,” Scott whispered. Jimmy looked down at him. “It’s a cute face.”

They stayed in silence and let the last video play.

Jimmy cleared his throat. “Uh, bedtime?” He forced out.

Scott sat up. “Yeah.” He knew sleep wasn’t going to come quickly for him. Too much had happened.

They put away the trail mix and water, then settled under the top blanket to sleep. Scott sat up while Jimmy laid down. Jimmy didn’t sleep sitting next to Scott every night–Scott knew most people didn’t like sleeping like this–but he enjoyed when Jimmy kept him company in the awkward sleeping position.

Scott looked at Jimmy as he laid curled on his side with his back to Scott. All Scott could think about as he looked at the other man was that smile, and how he hoped he would see it in person one day.

>——Now———<

Scott turns the wheelchair onto a hidden path. Bushes crowd the trail as Scott forces Jimmy and himself past. He struggles over roots and divots in the trail. The wheelchair almost tips at one point. Then again.

“Sorry,” Scott mutters. He’s getting tired. Barely any water and no food for over a day while hiking is taking its toll on him.

They pass a berry bush and Scott stops to pick some. It’s already berry season. If everything had gone normal they would have scavenged pectin and sugar and jars and made jams and jellies. A chasm begins to open in him. He pops a couple in his mouth and the silence of the woods sinks into him.

There’s the sound of birds singing, mice rushing through the undergrowth, and the wind rustling the leaves overhead. It’s all so quiet. It’s missing something. SomeONE.

Tears well up in Scott’s eyes and he wipes them away. He needs to move and put one foot in front of the other. They have to get home.

He stands back up from where he crouched. Scott grabs a hold of the wheelchair again and starts pushing. Another tip. Scott rights the chair roughly. Jimmy makes a noise.

Scott loses it.

The chasm opens wide, and it HURTS. It feels like his ribs are being split open. He never knew grief could manifest into so much physical pain. Scott throws his hands up. He kicks the ground. He pulls at his hair.

“FUCK!” He yells. “If I hadn’t made us go to that god damn ware house for salt and sugar, none of this would have fucking happened!”

Scott collapses in a heap. Hot tears are running down his face, and he doesn’t know when they started. He looks over to the figure in the chair. The figure doesn’t turn and scold Scott for swearing. No smile so bright and sweet it made a bright summer day jealous. No warm eyes filled with concern. All it does is struggle against its bonds.

“You’re gone,” Scott chokes out. “I KNOW you’re gone, but I don’t want it to be true.” He looks at the figure, at Jimmy. “I’m sorry. You should have never come into that office building.”

Scott gets up. He’s still angry, but the chasm has swallowed everything. The anger simmers just in reach, waiting to rear its head again. The chasm in Scott’s chest opens wider as he grabs the handles and continues their journey. As each hour passes, the chasm consumes more and more until Scott is just going about the motions.

Right foot. Left foot. Keep some awareness out for a strange sound. Right foot. Left foot. The twisting knife of grief and guilt. Right foot. Left foot….

Chapter Text

Scott woke up to Jimmy’s arm draped over his legs. Jimmy’s head was settled in the crook of his arm, right next to Scott’s thigh. Everywhere Jimmy’s arm touched felt like electricity. Scott uncrossed his arms and ran his fingers through Jimmy’s hair.

Jimmy groaned and stretched. He opened his eyes and smiled up at Scott.

Scott would have the apocalypse happen a million times if it meant he could see that sleepy smile again. It was lopsided and his eyes were still clouded with sleep, but Jimmy so obviously was happy to see Scott. Scott smiled quietly down at him and kept playing with his hair.

“Morning already?” Jimmy asked. He had started playing with one of Scott’s buttons.

Scott tilted his head up to the small window near the roof. Just enough light was pushing its way through that Scott could start seeing in color, instead of the grey-scale of the dark. “Looks like it’s pretty much morning.”

Jimmy pressed his face into Scott’s leg. “I’ll get up in a second.”

All of Scott’s awareness moved towards where Jimmy pressed against him. There was no blanket between them, just Scott’s grimy jeans. His hand stilled in Jimmy’s hair and Jimmy looked up.

In the dim lighting, Scott saw the definition of puppy eyes on a human. He forced himself to look away. “We should get moving,” Scott said.

Jimmy rolled onto his back and sighed. Scott tried not to think about how he missed Jimmy’s warmth. “Fine,” Jimmy grumbled.

Scott pulled the blanket off the two of them and Jimmy grumbled again. He rolled up the blanket and shoved it in his own bag. Scott shook Jimmy’s shoulder. “Come on, get up.”

Jimmy rolled himself up in the left over blanket. “Convince me.”

Scott started rolling the Jimmy burrito to the far side of the shed. Jimmy flailed to stop the movement. “Scott!”

Scott laughed. “Then get up.” He stopped the blanket bundle at the wall of tools.

Jimmy struggled out of his restraints and sat up, looking upset. His face was flushed and his hair was tousled. Scott reached out and did his best to fix it. Warmth spread through him from where his hand touched Jimmy.

“Thanks,” Jimmy said. He didn’t mess with his hair after Scott took his hand away.

“No problem,” Scott replied.

Jimmy packed up the other blanket and they cleared the blockades from the door. With both weapons poised, they opened the door to morning light. Scott hadn’t seen the scenery last night. He had been too lost in his head to comprehend anything. The shed was positioned in the yard of a house on the top of a hill. Scott leaned over to Jimmy. “You chose a good place.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks.” He paused and looked across the yard. “I saw a sign pointing to a library yesterday.”

“Really, I didn’t…” Scott trailed off. He knew why he hadn’t seen it. The thing that moved without a head. Scott shoved his free hand in his pocket and held his staff even tighter.

Jimmy touched his elbow to Scott’s. “We’ll just leave this town then. The woods here should be decently empty.”

Scott shook his head. “We need some information so we don’t die out there.”

Jimmy nodded and they left the yard. Both of them were uneasy as they back tracked. Scott kept looking over his shoulder after they turned towards the library. His brain kept telling him he was in trouble. That there was something behind them and he needed to fight.

When they got to the library, the doors were open. Doors that were metal and should swing close on their own. Scott looked down and saw what was blocking them. He was expecting to see a skull or a limb or something grotesque. Instead all he saw was two door stops. That was somehow more unsettling than if he had seen human remains. Jimmy and Scott shared a look.

Scott stepped forward while Jimmy dug in Scott’s backpack for the flash light. He switched it on and shined it over Scott’s shoulder. They crept in. There was a pleasant smell, even more unsettling. A piece of paper on the table caught Scott’s eyes. They slinked over and read it.

‘Welcome to the library. Take what you need.’

Under that, scribbled as if written down in a brain storm was ‘don’t be a dog, be a god!’

Jimmy turned the flashlight away from the note and shone it through the quiet space. Scott looked up and followed where the light went. There didn’t seem to be anything reacting to the light. There should be, it was the perfect place for a creature to hide. The thought that maybe it wasn’t sensitive to light did cross Scott’s mind.

Scott inched forward to the book shelves, staff ready. They’re goal was to get the books they needed then leave, no need to dilly dally. Scott found a section on the outdoors and slid down the aisle, Jimmy right behind him. Jimmy kept a light on the books so Scott could read the title of each one. They kept their ears open for any strange footsteps. Once they got what they needed, Scott fumbled in the dark with Jimmy’s backpack and shoved the four books in. That was all the pack could hold and Scott didn’t want to stick around to find more. They’d have to risk four books being enough, and at least one of them was on the plants of the area.

On their way back, a figure stood in the doorway. It didn’t move, it just stood. Jimmy shone the light right onto the face of the figure. It grimaced and shielded its eyes, turned away.

“Cut that out, I’m human!” The figure said.

“Sorry,” Jimmy rushed out.

“What are you here for?” Scott asked, pointing his staff at the man. He wore a green windbreaker, a white backpack, a headband, and rolled up blue jeans. And even stranger than Jimmy’s lack of pack when they met, this man had light slip on shoes on his feet.

He held up his hands. “Woah there, I’m just coming back to my home and found strangers rummaging around in it.”

“This is a horrible house,” Scott said. “One of those things can just walk in.”

“Not if you spray perfume everywhere. The creepers hate strong smells. Plus, we weren’t home to keep the lights on.” He held out his hand. “And I would like payment for the books you took.”

“We’re not going to pay you, the sign didn’t say anything about payment,” Jimmy said over Scott’s shoulder.

“Yeah, but you’re pointing a weapon at me and I gave you some information, so payment is needed.” The man nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders as he said it.

“We’re not paying,” Scott said. He tried to move around the man, but he simply side stepped and blocked Scott’s path.

Jimmy sighed. “What do you want?”

The man glanced behind him. “What we want is whatever you have that interests us.”

“We?” Asked Scott.

“Yes, we.” Another man stepped into the light. This one had dark brown hair and a beard. Sunglasses rested on his face and he wore a red shirt and dark blue jeans with suspenders. His odd fashion choice was a thick red cape. “This is my boss.”

“I would like to see your bits, please,” the other man said.

Scott lowered his staff half heartedly. If Jimmy was willing to trade with these people, maybe he could be too. “Okay, but before we do anything, what are your names?”

Jimmy didn’t wait for them to reply. “I’m Jimmy and he’s Scott.” They waited for the other two to reply.

“I’m Ren and this is Martyn,” the man in red said. “He’s my right hand man.”

Martyn gestured to Scott and Jimmy. “All right, show us what you’ve got.”

They hefted their packs off and let the library dwellers rummage through their hard earned supplies. Scott stared down at them in the doorway.

Martyn held up the flowers Jimmy had grabbed the previous day. “Flowers?”

Jimmy played with his hoodie strings. “Yeah, Scott liked them so I saved them.” Scott remembered the fake poppy he and Jimmy had worn for a glorious minute until they ran for their lives. He missed what it represented.

Ren and Martyn nodded and Scott caught them glancing at each other. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t want to correct anyone’s assumptions. And by Jimmy’s lack of words, he didn’t have any problems either.

“These are a fair trade,” Ren stated. He held Scott’s portable charger in his hand while Martyn held an armful of granola bars and protein bars.

Scott held his tongue. “Okay.” They didn’t really need a charger, but the food would be missed.

Jimmy picked up his bag. “Thank you for the books!”

“And thank you for going through all of our stuff,” Scott replied icily as he slung his back back on his shoulders.

They left the library behind and weaved their way through the abandoned town. Scott was silent, keeping an eye out for any unseemly creatures. He could feel how tense Jimmy was beside him. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his friend.

“It’s okay,” Scott said.

Jimmy shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and looked at the ground. Scott kept his eyes on their surroundings. “Do you think I’m too soft?”

Scott stopped. Jimmy passed him by a step then turned around. “No,” he stated.

Jimmy looked confused, his brows were furrowed and his mouth was tight. "But, I just let those guys take our stuff.”

Scott tapped his staff on the ground. “You did, but I didn’t do anything either. We weren’t in a position to fight those guys.” Scott looked Jimmy in the eyes. “And I’m not mad at you.”

Jimmy relaxed. “Thank goodness. You’re just so hardened by the end of the world, and I thought…” He trailed off and shrugged.

“That I wouldn’t want to stay with you,” Scott finished.

“Yeah.”

Scott stepped forward and rested his hand on Jimmy’s arm. His nerves lit up where his hand touched Jimmy. “You saw me that first day, I was so scared of everything.” Scott glanced away for a second, then returned his gaze to Jimmy. “Jimmy, you’ve helped me relax, and I would never leave you for being soft. I love the way you are.”

They stared at each other. Scott felt his face get hot, and he knew he was blushing. But still, he didn’t look away. Jimmy squirmed first, rubbing the back of his neck. Blush covered his face as well. “Gosh, that’s really sweet of you.”

“Of course,” Scott said. He smiled and gave Jimmy a quick peck on the cheek before walking again.

He let go of Jimmy’s arm and let his hand ghost across Jimmy as Scott moved past him. The tingle in his hand didn’t dissipate right away. He gently touched his lips to make sure they were still there. Even with the quick peck, it felt like his lips would melt away. Scott heard Jimmy catch up to him.

Their hands slipped together and Jimmy bumped his shoulder into Scott’s. “Ahem, so, where did you get the staff? It looks like a wooden dowel you would find at a craft store.”

Scott looked at his staff, then Jimmy. “It was a hardware store…”

Jimmy snickered, then stifled his laugh with his free hand. When he turned to Scott, Scott felt like he saw the sun for the first time. “Battle hardened Scott with a wooden dowel from a hardware store, what a sight.”

It took Scott a second to find his words. “If you give me some art supplies, I’ll show you how very little I’m actually ‘battle hardened.’”

“Then we’ll try to find some.” Jimmy glanced around. “Eventually, of course.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, until Scott spoke up again, “My favorite thing to draw was flowers. I have a lot of plant symbolism memorized.” The aster in Scott’s pocket burned a hole in his jacket. He could feel it with every step, brushing against his body.

He should tell Jimmy, this is what he wanted, right? A calm moment and vulnerability? Hell, he had just kissed the man on the cheek. He could give a flower, right?

Scott opened his mouth to say something, but Jimmy charged ahead with the conversation. “Let’s not have that ‘was’ talk, I’m going to find you something to make colorful art with, I promise.”

Scott smiled back at Jimmy, he didn’t fully show his teeth, but it was the biggest smile he had done in a long time. Jimmy smiled back. The aster stayed in Scott’s pocket and felt like a lead weight. “That would be lovely.”

<———————>

They finally entered the nearby woods by late morning, practically noon. There were a couple close calls with creatures as they got closer to the woods. Scott noticed the sound of running water and they followed it to a creek. They did their best to keep to the patches of light and kept eyes peeled for any figures moving towards them.

“How ‘bout we take turns?” Scott suggested as he scanned the area. It was a creature free from what he could see, but he didn’t trust the trees.

Jimmy nodded. “Since you found it, you can go first.”

Scott agreed. Before he took his clothes off, he filled a water bottle. No sense in letting a water source go to waste, and if it turned out to be bad water, at least they only lost one water bottle. “No peaking,” Scott said over his shoulder.

Jimmy stiffened, not moving a muscle to look back at Scott. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Scott hummed as he braced against the cold water. “Sure you don’t,” he joked.

“Yup,” Jimmy squeaked out.

Scott did his best to clean grime and sweat off him in the creek, then got out and forced his clothes back on. He grimaced as the fabric touched his wet skin. Despite only being at the restaurant for a night, Scott missed the safety it offered. At least there he didn’t have to put all of his clothes onto wet skin.

“Your turn.” Scott stepped into Jimmy’s line of sight, scrunching his hair dry. It was getting unfortunately long, and Scott needed to cut it. Somehow.

Jimmy went to the creek and Scott watched the scenery, keeping his back firmly turned. “You better not look,” Jimmy said.

Scott smiled. “I’ll wait until later.”

He got splashed for that.

“Hey!” Scott heard Jimmy laugh. “If you do that again, I’m taking your hoodie.”

“Then I’ll take your jacket,” Jimmy said. Scott smiled and rolled his eyes.

After Jimmy was done, they gathered their packs up and started the trek again. At one point Jimmy spotted a worn path and they followed it. The path ended at a two story cabin that looked straight out of a magazine. There was a porch, large windows near the roof, and logs framed the sides and windows. The rest of the walls were covered in rough planks. A gravel driveway stretched off into the woods and at the property line, the forest became tame.

They darted into the sunlight. Scott heard something behind them, but when he looked back, it had retreated. The wooden door was shut and no signs of a struggle were apparent. Scott fell into his usual position as Jimmy forced the door open. He entered first, the flashlight Jimmy grabbed shining over his shoulder. There was a loft with shelves and an extra bed. Under the loft was a short hallway with two rooms on either side. The rest of the cabin had a high ceiling. A bathroom was tucked into a corner and a kitchen sprawled along the closest wall to the door.

They searched the whole cabin top to bottom, but there were no signs of anyone having lived here for a month or two and no monsters. Scott looked for a generator in hopes the cabin was off the main power grid. He had no luck. His attempt for running water was futile as well.

Jimmy came up behind him. “I claimed my room,” he said.

Scott’s disappointment doubled. “No water or power here either,” he sighed.

Jimmy looked around. “It’s still a nice place to live, whoever lived here first did a wonderful job decorating.”

Scott leaned against the kitchen sink. He glanced around the dim room, but his gaze barely left Jimmy in his cone of light. The knife at Jimmy’s hip caught Scott’s eye. “How confident are you not to cut me?”

Jimmy’s eyes snapped into focus. “What?”

“Could you cut my hair?” Scott asked, playing with a lock.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Jimmy put a hand on the knife. “Right now, or should we eat first?”

“Let’s eat,” said Scott.

After a simple dinner of canned ravioli left behind by the cabin’s owners, Scott and Jimmy moved to the bathroom. They positioned the flashlight precariously on a small shelf by the sink. Scott took off his shirt and jacket to keep as much hair as possible out of his clothes. Then he sat on a chair they brought in and waited for Jimmy to start.

He felt Jimmy’s body heat before Jimmy started grabbing locks of his hair. Scott felt the knife saw through each chunk. He closed his eyes as Jimmy worked. After the movements stopped, Scott opened his eyes again.

“Is that a good length, or do you want shorter?” Jimmy asked.

Scott looked in the mirror. The lighting was dim, but he could still see well enough to figure out what hair style Jimmy was giving him. It was similar to what he had at Joel’s and Lizzie’s wedding all those years ago, which as it happened wasn’t that dissimilar to what he had before the world ended.

He rotated his head in the mirror, trying to get every angle. “If you feel like you can go shorter, then yeah. If not, this length is good.”

“I can go shorter in a couple spots,” Jimmy said. Scott would be lying if he said he didn’t like this closeness. When Jimmy was fully done, Scott brushed the hair off himself and stood. Only the top of his hair still had some blue dye in it, the rest was brown.

Scott held out his hand for the knife. “I’ll do you next.”

Jimmy flushed a little as Scott smiled. They swapped places and Scott set to work chopping Jimmy’s hair. He fell into a steady rhythm as he worked. Scott tried to ignore how his skin lit up when he brushed against Jimmy. After a few requests from Jimmy, Scott was done. He focused on throwing his shirt on so Jimmy wouldn’t see the flush on his face.

They chatted as they cleaned up the bathroom. After all the hair they could find was swept out, Jimmy said goodnight to Scott. Scott wished him goodnight as well with a smile, but lingered in the doorway of his room. Their doors would stay open, but Scott was already mourning the loss of closeness. He turned away from the threshold and climbed into a stranger’s bed.

Scott left his staff next to him and his bag propped up against the bed. Both were in a quick arm’s reach and he slept in the same position as every night, but this time it was missing something. He could feel the cold spot where Jimmy would lay next to him every night. Scott still felt the buzz of such close contact from earlier and the cheek kiss, but he was still lonely. The memory didn’t match the real thing.

Scott leaned his head against the wall and tried to fall asleep.

<———————>
On the second day at the cabin, Scott and Jimmy dug through every cabinet and tote and went through every drawer. Scott found a jean jacket and hid it. Jimmy kept true to his promise and the second they uncovered a notebook and a pencil, he handed it over to Scott.

“For your art,” he said. “I would love to see it one day.”

The aster continued to burn a hole in Scott’s jacket. He smiled softly. “Thank you.”

That night Scott sat awake, staring at the blank piece of notebook paper, wishing words would come.

The second day had them start making the cabin a home. They had both agreed it seemed safe and it was the perfect distance from town if they needed to do any scavenging. Scott and Jimmy cleaned up the yard and read the books they bartered from the weird librarians. They chopped fire wood and Scott pretended he wasn’t looking at Jimmy. And trying to ignore the feeling of being watched.

It was on the third day when Scott felt the fatigue of sleepless nights weigh on him. After dinner that night, as they were reading on the couch by the light of a flash light and fire, Scott fell asleep against Jimmy. He hadn’t realized he’d passed out until he woke up to Jimmy moving him.

“I fell asleep?” Scott asked. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, still coming out of the confusion of just waking up.

Jimmy stopped trying to pick him up, bridal style. “Yeah, I was taking you to bed.”

The thought of staying awake in the room woke Scott up more. He sat up. “And leaving me there?”

Jimmy looked at Scott in the light of the flash light. Scott moved to explain when Jimmy spoke, “We’ll stay in my room tonight.”

On their way to the room, Scott elbowed Jimmy. “Did you also miss me?”

Jimmy looked away, and Scott knew he had a small blush covering his cheeks. “Maybe.”

Scott smiled. “You did.”

Jimmy looped an arm around Scott. “You caught me.” Scott leaned into Jimmy.

The aster felt like a lead weight in his pocket and the note in his room tugged at his brain.

Scott dropped his jacket next to Jimmy’s bed and they clambered in. Scott laid down in the bed right next to Jimmy, not caring about the extra space on the queen sized bed. He kept a hand on Jimmy’s arm as they fell asleep. Nothing had ever felt so comfortable before and Scott didn’t want to let it go.

The fourth day at the cabin brought more work, hauling water from the nearby creek, and digging post holes for a fence. Dark clouds clustered in the sky, signaling for rain. That night, as the sky darkened early due to clouds and they went inside for the night, Scott made sure the door was shut tight. He saw Jimmy add a board later using screws he found and the screw driver he kept.

After their nightly reading, they went into their separate rooms. Scott had told Jimmy he needed to grab something before climbing into bed. He didn’t want the opportunity to pass him by again.

As Scott pulled the aster out of his pocket and rolled it up with a note in the jacket, he heard Jimmy shout over the sound of splintering wood and breaking glass. “Oh sweet heavens! SCOTT!”

Scott threw the items in his bag, slipping it on and grabbing his staff all in one motion. He rushed out and saw Jimmy running back into his room. Creatures were coming through the door and tumbling in through the windows. Even as their skin caught and tore from climbing over broken glass, they didn’t flinch. They had one goal and the rain had given them the perfect opportunity to creep closer to the cabin. The door gave way and a broken body fell through the doorway. It still twitched as it tried to move and get to Scott.

Scott fled after Jimmy. He forced open the window and hurried through. Scott didn’t need to look back to know Jimmy was behind him.

They ran as the creatures took over their home of four days. More monsters waited in the dark forest, their approach made hard to detect by the rain. Scott stumbled on roots, while Jimmy seemed more sure of his footing. His staff was cumbersome as they tried to weave through the dark, but Scott didn’t want to let go of it. It was their only other weapon and it gave more reach than Jimmy’s knife.

Scott’s lungs started burning and he looked behind in hopes they weren’t being followed. He saw shapes moving and knew they wouldn’t get away. He had missed his opportunity with Jimmy again. Scott’s steps faltered and Jimmy grabbed his arm.

“Keep going,” he said through hard breaths.

Scott followed Jimmy’s order. Between certain death and following Jimmy to a possible death, the latter was preferred.

They kept running. Scott’s legs felt like jelly and his lungs couldn’t get enough air as his heart pounded out of his chest.

And he still ran.

Because Jimmy was his anchor.

Jimmy stopped first, then grabbed Scott’s arm. They stood next to a river, overflowing due to rain and moving swiftly. “Don’t let go. Don’t get swept away.” Jimmy kissed Scott’s forehead as he caught his breath. “Stay alive.”

“This has a high chance of killing us,” Scott said.

Jimmy turned to the water. “Better than the zombies.”

Scott agreed and they waded in, holding hands tight. He stuck his staff in a loop on his bag and hoped it stayed. The water pulled at their legs, then their waists, then they were shoulder deep and being swept off their feet. Trying to tread water in a swift river while holding someone’s hand was almost impossible, but the other option was to yell each other’s name and give away their location to more monsters.

Scott’s muscles wanted to give up, but he kept going. He needed to keep his head above water, no matter how much his bag dragged him down. He had to survive for Jimmy, and for himself, and for the fragile future he had imagined at the cabin. Water tried to choke him and he sputtered. Scott kept sinking lower and lower. He kicked furiously to keep his head up, until his muscles started to give up.

As they swept over a rough patch in the water, Scott’s hand slipped out of Jimmy’s. He scrambled to find his companion, but he felt nothing but water and debris. His head dipped under the water again and he dragged himself back up, spitting out water as it continued to enter his mouth. Against his best efforts, he could feel himself shutting down. And he couldn’t find Jimmy.

Against his best interests, he yelled, “Jimmy!” River water sloshed over his head again, almost pulling him under for good. “Jimmy,” he coughed out.

“Scott! Shore!” Jimmy called back, sounding equally as drowned.

Scott started swimming hard. He could barely see where the shore was in the dark, but assumed if he was swimming perpendicular to the current, he was heading in the right way. He just had to hope it was the same shore as Jimmy.

He kicked as hard as his worn out legs could and used his arms to compensate. Scott felt ground beneath his legs and kept going. He dragged himself through the shallows with his arms, then onto the beach. Scott ignored the rocks that scratched at his hands as he pulled himself out. His body shook with cold and fatigue as he looked around for Jimmy.

No dark shapes.

“Jimmy!” Scott called again.

“Here,” came Jimmy’s voice down the shore. It was quieter than Scott would have liked. He dragged himself to his hands and knees and crawled down the beach.

When his fingers brushed Jimmy’s, Scott collapsed onto the beach. He rested for only a second before he realized something was wrong. He reached down to Jimmy’s shoulder and shook him. Jimmy coughed and tried to prop himself up. Scott relaxed.

“We shouldn’t stay here,” Scott said. His voice sounded rough.

Jimmy pushed himself to his feet and Scott followed suit, barely. They stumbled through the forest, hanging onto each other. When one of them needed a break, he leaned against a tree. They both knew if they went to the ground they’d stay there until morning. After what felt like hours wandering, they stumbled up a hill. There was a sweet smell in the air, but Scott didn’t bother thinking about it.

They collapsed in a shivering mess and huddled. “We should take our wet clothes off and start a fire,” said Jimmy through chattering teeth.

Scott didn’t know if he had any strength left to move his arm. “I can’t.”

The full sentence must have taken more effort than Jimmy had because he gave a small nod in return.

Scott hoped they didn’t die from hypothermia after escaping the monsters. At least if they died here, they died in each other’s arms. Jimmy passed out for a few minutes while Scott stared into the dark, then when Jimmy’s head stirred, Scott fell asleep.

When Scott managed to open his eyes again, the rain had stopped. The moon shined full and bright in the sky. Part of his energy was restored and he dragged himself away from Jimmy to procure something to make a fire. They needed light and warmth. He left his bag with Jimmy as Scott couldn’t fathom carrying it another step.

Nothing nearby was dry enough for a fire, but Scott still brought back sticks. When he arrived, Jimmy was lying out the blankets to dry. His hoodie was draped over one of the bags to dry as well. Scott peeled off his own jacket after dropping the twigs. He thought again of the jacket and aster and note.

They took off their wet shoes and huddled together again. “I wish we had a fire,” Jimmy muttered.

“Everything is too wet,” Scott said. “I wish we had dry clothes.”

“If you start feeling like you’re over heating, that’s hypothermia, not actual warmth,” said Jimmy. “Fire and dry clothes and getting out of the wet clothes would help.”

“We’ll take the clothes off later,” Scott said. Jimmy laughed quietly against Scott. “Have you had any escapes like this?”

Jimmy moved even closer, despite there being no space between them. “When I was getting the plywood. I had to do multiple trips because zombies kept coming from the shadows. Nothing like this, though.”

Scott tightened his arm around Jimmy. “I’ve had a couple similar, but no rivers were involved. The first was the first day of this thing, and the second was at that destroyed road I mentioned.”

Jimmy shifted to look at Scott’s face in the dark. “What happened?” Then he rushed to add, “If you want to talk about it.”

Scott stared out at the dark. And told Jimmy of his escape from his apartment and his near miss in the exploded road. After he finished talking, Jimmy was silent.

“I’m glad you made it, I can’t imagine a world without you,” Jimmy said.

“Me either.” Scott felt the confession bubble up, it was tired of being held down. He shifted to untangle himself and grab the jacket bundle, when he realized it had gotten wet. Everything in their bags was wet. The note would be ruined. Anger flashed through him at another chance gone by due to circumstances out of his control. “Shit,” Scott whispered.

Jimmy flicked him. “That’s your first warning.”

A smile whispered over Scott’s face at that. “What?”

“You swore. You have three warnings,” Jimmy said, matter-of-factly.

“Why can’t I swear?” Scott asked.

Jimmy shrugged. “Personal preference.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Alright.”

“What did you swear about? You haven’t reacted to a situation with a swear word since I’ve known you.” Jimmy pulled away slightly as he spoke and cold air chilled the spot he once was.

Scott shifted closer to close the gap. “I had planned something and the attack threw a wrench in it.”

“And what was this important plan?” Jimmy asked.

Scott felt embarrassed by his gift now. “A jacket, a flower, and a note.” He looked at Jimmy in the moonlight and decided to take the easiest risk of his life. “The note was a confession.”

“To me?” Jimmy asked.

“To you. I even drew an aster on it.” When Jimmy didn’t say anything, Scott continued. “Asters symbolize love and trust.”

“I missed out on one of your flower drawings?” Jimmy moped. He sagged against Scott.

Scott smiled again. “Unfortunately.”

They sat in silence while Jimmy mourned the loss of seeing the first drawing Scott made for him. Until everything clicked. “Oh!”

“Yeah, are you going to do anything about it?” Scott asked.

Jimmy moved his face close to Scott’s. They were so close their noses brushed. Scott waited for the distance to close. Jimmy hesitated.

“You wanted me to kiss you, right?” He asked.

Scott moved his hand to rest on the back of Jimmy’s neck. “Of course I did.”

He pulled Jimmy closer and their lips brushed tentatively. When Jimmy leaned into the kiss, Scott pushed back. He didn’t mind being selfish and enjoying the moment. He had survived for long enough and now Scott wanted to live. He wanted to truly and deeply love.

And it was amazing. It was like the stars were aligning for the first time in Scott’s life.

Scott kissed Jimmy with all the love he had pushed down. Jimmy returned the fervor. They broke apart for a second to catch their breath and Scott placed a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Jimmy leaned back with only slight pressure and Scott kept no space between them.

Jimmy’s hands went into Scott’s hair as they laid on the wet grass, the moon their only light. They kissed until they were breathless again. When they parted, Scott peppered light kisses across Jimmy’s face.

“Can’t believe I’m allowing this from someone with such a filthy mouth earlier,” Jimmy said, breathless.

“I have pretty privilege," Scott whispered. “And I’m your boyfriend now.”

“Both are true, but I am also pretty.”

“Nope, only me,” sang Scott.

“Fine then you get this.” Jimmy grabbed Scott’s face and smothered him in kisses.

Scott laughed, a true hearty laugh, one that wasn’t held back by fear. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sputtered out.

Jimmy returned his laugh and Scott attacked with a couple more kisses just to hear it again. When the moment died down, they stayed with their legs tangled. They laid slotted together like puzzle pieces on the wet grass, dozing on and off until the sun rose.

When the sun was far enough above the horizon to see, Scott groggily lifted his head. His boyfriend grumbled and turned his head.

Scott saw a field of flowers, and in the distance, a small lake surrounded by dirt cliffs. He looked down at Jimmy. “We’re going there next.”

>———Now————<

Scott trudges through the woods. The terrain is getting easier, more altered. He crests a low hill and stares at the flower fields. They stretch far, all the way to a stone wall, then around. Reds, whites, purples, and blues coat the landscape and fill the air with a sweet smell. Jimmy struggles to be released from his bonds again, clearly trying to retreat from the assault of the flowers.

Scott rests his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder as he watches the flowers. His grief has burned every emotion. It was a raging forest fire, and now all Scott feels is numb. He closes his eyes and thinks back to the night they found this place. The twist of the knife hurts, but so does his hunger. It doesn’t hurt like it did three days ago, and Scott should be glad, but he can’t bother.

He stands on the hill with his eyes closed until Scott hears footsteps over Jimmy’s protests. Scott opens them and turns towards the sound. Grian and Scar are approaching him. Scott doesn’t wave, he just stares.

“Hey,” says Grian. He leans to the side to look beyond Scott. “Who’s that?”

Scott stares into the middle distance. “Jimmy.” His voice sounds wrong, rough from lack of water, crying, and minimum use. He sounds hollow, a stranger to his own ears.

Grian has the tact to look down. Scar on the other hand looked Scott over before speaking. “You look awful,” he says.

Grian jabs him in the stomach with his elbow, Scott just shrugs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too, man.” Scar slips his pack off his back and rummages around, producing a jewelry box. Carved flowers cover it. Scott recognizes chrysanthemums, daisies, and primroses. He feels sick. “Could I interest you in a box to keep Jimmy’s finest wares?”

Scott looks at Grian, he can’t bear to see the box in Scar’s hands. “I’m not trading with you right now.”

“Why you thought he would want to trade is beyond me,” Grian says to Scar.

Scar shrugs. “I was just trying to lighten the mood. Everyone wants trinket boxes.”

“Not everyone,” Scott mutters.

Scar shrugs. “If Jimmy was with us, he would want this box.”

Finally Scott feels something again, and it’s anger. Sweet anger to dive into instead of this crushing nothingness. “He’s still here,” Scott snaps. “And he doesn’t want that horrible box.” His tone is low and deadly, and it soothes his raw heart. Grian looks shocked. Scott knows he’s acting out of character, but that person had Jimmy, this one has a creature with Jimmy’s name and face.

Scar holds up his hands, Scott stares at the one with the box. “I’m just saying.”

“Then stop,” Scott spits out. “Stop saying stuff. Shut the hell up for once in your lying and cheating life.”

Grian steps between them before Scar speaks again. “I hope you feel better,” he says. “Scar, put away the box,” he whispers over his shoulder.

Scott watches as the disgusting box disappears into Scar’s pack of wares. “I’ll never feel better now.”

“I’m sure you will, you’ll just need time,” Grian says.

Scar nods behind him. “Martyn did it.”

The silent “Why can’t you” doesn’t slip past Scott. Or maybe he imagines it. Either way, he knows why he can’t be like Martyn. He doesn’t know who to blame besides himself.

Scott glares at them as Grian’s hand finds Scar’s for a second. “There is not enough time in the world.”

“Scott, I’m sure there is,” Scar said. Then Scar blinks. “Oh, man, your eyes.”

Scott touched his face and his fingers came away wet. “Oh,” is all he says. He feels his anger dripping away as the tears fall.

“If there’s anything you need, we can help,” Grian says. “If you need to–”

“I’m not killing Jimmy,” Scott interrupts. Then he crumbles. He crouches down, hands still on the wheelchair, and cries. He sobs out what he can of his heart, not caring that Scar and Grian stood at arm's length.

A hand touches his shoulder and he shrugs it off. After that, he hears Grian tell Scar they should go. Scar retreats slightly later than Grian. Once they’ve left, Scott mourns the loss. He can’t stand people nearby, but yet he craves it with every fiber of his being when they leave.

He misses Jimmy. He misses his husband so much. He’s right there, but he’s not, and he’ll never be next to Scott again. He’ll never laugh or complain about how Scott messed with his hair. And yet, Jimmy was RIGHT THERE.

Scott pushes himself to his feet, still choking on his tears. He starts on the path through their flower fields. Scott mutters to Jimmy, “I don’t know how you communicate like this, but at least we’ll still be together soon.” He hopes so, if not Scott doesn’t know what to do. He can’t go on a rampage and destroy every infected in the world.

Scott forces the thoughts away and keeps walking. It will work, why wouldn’t it?