#// thank u to jojo for this i loved it and i love metzli sm <3

[vanishingreyes]

The Dead Come Walking || Metzli & Xóchitl

TIMING: Last month SETTING: At a cemetery. SUMMARY: Metzli and Xóchitl go to visit Xó's friend's grave. Unfortunately, someone else is there. :/ Metzli to the rescue! WARNINGS: Child death mentions

Cemeteries were bleak places. They were filled with the lingering tears of the grieving, haunted by the dead that couldn’t rest, and stained by those who could never leave again. Metzli was aware of the dangers, bristled at the thought of stepping foot in one, but Xóchitl had requested their presence. 

She was offering to share a painful piece of herself, hoping to spare herself some of the weight that came with losing a loved one. How could Metzli deny her? They couldn’t, not even if they wanted to. Agreeing to something so dangerous was easy when it came to someone you cared about, and  Xóchitl quickly settled into that small group. So, like a good friend, Metzli visited the edge of the cemetery’s perimeter thirty minutes early. 

Nothing came of their surveillance, predictably. It was too early for much to appear, but they’d stay alert. When they’d agreed to meet, the vampire had been clear they should visit before dark, and they’d decided on the moments before dusk. Just enough light to provide some form of protection, but not so much that Metzli would sizzle. It was as safe as they could make the visit, but with their presence, they were determined to ensure Xóchitl returned home safely. 

“Hola,” Metzli greeted from a few feet away, bowing their head respectfully upon reaching Xóchitl and speaking in their mother tongue. “I brought these for your friend. Did not know her favorite so I picked marigolds because of their meaning.” Eye contact, as always, was avoided, but they offered over the bouquet and pocketed their hand when it was free. Anxiety marched under their skin, dulling out slowly as they drank Xóchitl’s presence in. This moment was for her and her friend. Everything else could fall second so that they could be what she needed. “Are you ready?” With a few blinks, Metzli’s eyes fell back on Xóchitl and they offered their hand, giving her the option to take it if she wanted.

She wasn’t much of any sort of fan of cemeteries. Though if given the choice between them and playgrounds, she would choose cemeteries each and every time. At least the dead people there were supposed to be dead.

She’d gone by Mackenzie’s grave with relative frequency since coming back to town. Weekly, at least – which probably wasn’t what someone who claimed to be “over things” did, but Xóchitl supposed that if she were honest with herself, she really wasn’t over much of anything at all, not in the slightest. It was nearly dusk, which seemed to be her friend’s preferred time to hang out. It worked well enough, she didn’t have to take time off from work – though she would have, in a heartbeat – and it was cooler, calmer, now.

“Hola,” she responded to them, “I appreciate it.” She took the flowers, holding them in one arm almost as though they were a child. Xóchitl supposed that they were their own sort of precious cargo. Her gaze found her friend’s grave again, and she bit the inside of her cheek so that she wouldn’t cry. Because everything still felt so heavy, even if her grief was old enough to drink. “I guess so,” she shrugged, laying the flowers down and then quickly grabbed Metzli’s hand in her own. “Thanks. For being here, I mean.”

“Of course. It is an honor to be here.” Death was such a finite thing, or rather, it was supposed to be. The existence of Metzli alone was a mockery, laughed in death’s face. Their life before the bite was not much of one, but it was still a life, their heart was still beating. Unlike now. It almost felt wrong to stand there. They were some vile thing, looking at Xóchitl’s friend’s grave, seeing the place where her unbeating heart would remain at rest for as long as the earth would let it, while Metzli’s would continue until a final death eventually took them too.

Quietly, they squeezed Xóchitl’s hand, silently apologizing for their unnatural existence. That they could not bring back someone she had never stopped grieving. A mountain of love left inside her heart, with nowhere to go. “Are…you okay?” Metzli kneeled next to the stone, not daring to let go of Xochitl’s warm hand, lest she forget that she was not alone. “Will you tell me about her?” They looked up, finally managing to meet Xóchitl’s eyes with a kind stare, as they waited for an answer. 

Crunch!

Metzli’s brows knitted together at the sound, head whipping in a fury to find the source. Though they were alert, they remained quiet. The sound could’ve very well been nothing, and they’d be damned before they let their nerves completely interrupt Xóchitl’s time to grieve. It didn’t matter if decades had passed. Grief knew no bounds, it had no real cure. There was only dulling the pain.

“It is an honor to have you here, too.” Xóchitl responded in kind. Mackenzie would’ve liked Metzli, she decided. There was no concrete evidence to prove that, and there was always the possibility that Mackenzie would’ve turned into one of those mean girls the moment they hit middle school, but Xóchitlliked to think that something like that never would’ve happened. Metzli was kind and lovely and nice, and Mackenzie already had learned a lot of Spanish in the time that they’d been friends, so she would’ve been fluent by now and they could’ve all spoken in Spanish together and made Metzli feel safe and understood.

She shrugged in response to the are you okay, because she didn’t know. “Yes, I can tell you about her. She was my favorite person ever, we met on the first day of kindergarten and —” her voice cut off as she watched Metzli’s head move. Xóchitl grew quiet for a moment. “Are you alright?” She gave their hand the lightest of squeezes, a reminder that they were here, and they were with her, and maybe things might be okay. “She was full of sun and light and brightness – she never –”

This time, it was Xóchitl’s turn to grow quiet. “I don’t – do you hear that?” So long as no whistling started, she figured she could manage. Hoped she could, at least. For Metzli’s sake. That was what she told herself at least. All for their sake. It was easier to do that than to do it for herself.

“I am fine.” They replied simply, with a shake of their head. The squeeze from Xóchitl did well to pull Metzli’s attention fully back, forcing themself to move the sound to the wayside. “You two met very early, then.” Gently, slowly, the vampire nudged themself closer, carefully placing their chin on Xóchitl’s head so she could sink into them if she wanted. And maybe it was to put their body between her and any potential danger too, but she didn’t need to know that part. 

Embraces could do many things, protect in more ways than one. Metzli was just determined to use their skill as a shield to protect her at whatever cost, and do so quietly to prevent any unnecessary excitement. Though, it seemed, as always, Wicked’s Rest had other plans, and it was Xóchitl who heard the earth be disturbed by something unseen. This, combined with the vulnerable state their friend was in, Metzli bristled and tensed, red eyes narrowing at the shifting darkness. “Stay close to me.” Their voice was a hushed whisper, lips softly pressed against Xóchitl’s skull in an attempt to continue being a gentle shield while still remaining firm where they stood. 

Dirt was flung into the air, a nearby plot being dug into, but it was difficult to see who or what exactly was deep within the ground. For all they knew, the answer was easy and there was just a cemetery employee preparing the area for a funeral. Sadly though, Metzli was inclined to believe it was something sinister considering there was a noticeable crack of wood (most likely from a casket) and a stone with a death date from two years ago.  It was time to go. They couldn’t risk Xóchitl getting hurt. “We should leave.” Metzli urged, pulling their friend with them as they took a quiet step back.“Something is over there.”

“First day of kindergarten,” Xóchitl responded. “Would’ve loved it to have been earlier, but I’ll happily take that. We became best friends right away.” As if on reflex, she sank against Metzli, grateful for their height, for their presence. She hoped they could tell that, even if she didn’t quite voice it, but one thing she did know about Metzli was that they were good with silences. Thrived in them, even.

“What?” She twisted her head to look up at them, confused about their sudden change of tone of voice, of all they did. “I – of course.” 

Xóchitl chewed at her lip. “We – what? Like an animal?” She kept her voice quiet, barely noticeable, though she was confused – wondered, for a moment, if she’d been too open, if she’d made her friend uncomfortable. “I’m sorry if I said too much. We can – we can go, of course.” She nodded. “Where – should I stay like this?”

“You did not say too much.” Metzli cleared up immediately, feeling it important to let Xóchitl know that she couldn’t ever say enough about the friend she lost too soon. Sure, they hated when people spoke too much, but when it came to things like loss, Metzli felt inclined to listen, accepting the intimacy of what came with someone’s truth. Especially a friend’s. 

“There is something in a plot. I do not know if it is dangerous, so I want you to be quiet and close to me in case something happens.” Metzli reassured, all but lifting Xóchitl up from their grip on her hip. If they needed to get away, they’d be faster if she was in their hold. They were sure of it. And, as if fate wanted to test this, there was a breeze that rustled the flowers enough to cause a soft sound of shuffling, though it felt more like a boom when the creature whipped its head around.

Metzli planted Xóchitl on her feet, shuffling her behind them as they backed away carefully from the beast. It snarled and snapped its deadly teeth, wordlessly threatening an attack. The vampire scanned the area, tasking themself with finding the best course of action when Xóchitl had no idea what their nature was. “Run to the trees.” They whispered, fully prepared for an argument but not giving their friend the opportunity to say much of anything as they bolted toward the monster in front of them. With no prior experience with cemetery beasts, Metzli thought it best to simply go for an attack that fought against balance, sending the two rolling and battling for the upperhand.

“Okay. I just – I wanted to be sure.” Because she did always, with those she cared about, and Xóchitl did care about Metzli a great deal. She didn’t want to make them feel unsettled or unwanted. Not after she’d gained their trust – she didn’t want to make them think they’d been foolish to place trust in her.

Whatever they were saying didn’t make a lick of sense, but Xóchitl knew that she could trust them, and so whatever reason they were properly worried, she’d make sure to do as little as possible to contribute to that. “I’ll stay quiet and close, of course.” Said in a whisper, so quiet that she almost couldn’t hear herself.

Then they were telling her to run and she wanted to say no, wanted to put her foot down, but Metzli was off before she could even fully form a thought, and so Xóchitl did run towards the trees, but just barely, just enough to say she’d moved, yelping as she turned around and saw her friend and some other thing – some sort of animal, maybe – she didn’t know – and she yelped. “Metzli! Stop! You should – you run too, let’s both –” 

“I can’t run. Go!” There was no time. Was there ever, at a time like that? Whenever things went awry, making decisions became something that was instant to instant. Everything had to move faster than most could anticipate. But Metzli was not like most people. They were hardly a person at all, as far as they had known their entire life. From the moment they had become a vampire, any chance of that was taken, replaced by the evil they did and were capable of. It was why they couldn’t run. Why they had to stand their ground and do what good they could to balance it all out. 

Metzli sent the ghoul away from them, giving themself enough space to register their surroundings and retrieve their knife. Before they could make their next move though, the blade was knocked from their hand with a powerful swipe of the ghoul’s claws. Black blood oozed slowly out of their wound, but Metzli paid it no mind. They broke into a sprint to wrap their arm around what they could tell was a waist, squeezing tightly enough to send the creature screeching. There were a few crunches that accompanied the high-pitched wail, motivating Metzli to squeeze harder. Up until they felt almost too exerted. 

With an exhalation of force, they tossed the beast aside and grabbed for their knife in a blink. Metzli thrusted it quickly into its side and pulled down. There was another ear-piercing screech, accompanied with another powerful swipe of claws that sent Metzli far away. They landed in the trees next to Xóchitl, unable to feel the gash on their stomach, but bleeding slowly onto the ground. 

Her expression said more than Xóchitl could hope for her words to. Why can’t you run? Because that didn’t seem like an ideal sort of outcome for either of them, and she could already feel her stomach twisting around into knots of guilt if Metzli did get hurt. Because that would be her fault, even if she hadn’t been the one to physically harm them, she knew she’d still feel guilt – and that it would technically still be her fault.

Which was a deeply unsettling and unpleasant feeling.

Not to mention, it being coupled with the fact of her seeing something that didn’t make sense brought back a whole host of other unpleasant memories. Ones that had already come up given where the two of them were, but ones that she liked to at least think she was good at pretending didn’t exist. Except that right now, she was having a very difficult time of all that.

Xóchitl did run, finally, mostly because she could sense the desperation in Metzli’s voice and she wanted to follow through with honoring their wishes, always. She didn’t get too far away, huddled next to a tree, doing her best to not look at whatever was going on with her friend. Suddenly, there was a crash, and Metzli was on the ground next to her, and Xóchitl didn’t even pause to think for a moment before bending down, shaking their shoulder gently. They had to still be alive, didn’t they?

“Metzli?” She asked carefully, placing their head on top of her knees. “Can - can you hear me?” An immediate switch to Spanish, because that was what worked best with them, and what Xóchitl felt most comfortable with, too.  

The world was a blur, like a painting smeared across the canvas until a layer of black splashed against it. Pain swelled from their wound, keeping the color from being completely taken. “Hm?” Blinking the disorientation away as best they could, Metzli looked blearily up at Xóchitl, anxious to see if she was unharmed. Pure relief washed over them like a weighted blanket, giving them a moment of tranquil pause. But just a moment. The creature’s continued screeching finally registered in Metzli’s hearing, and they shot up from where they laid. 

“Stay quiet.” They whispered, a shaky breath trembling past their lips. The ghoul continued to thrash and exclaim, looking for Metzli in the shadows. One snap of a twig, and it’d likely attack the pair, so they remained still, their arm moving to hover just in front of Xóchitl protectively. After a few moments of silence, something in the distance broke it, sending the feral beast charging toward it and leaving the pair finally safe. Metzli sighed with relief, taking a few more beats before finally making a sound themself. Just to be safe. 

“Are you okay?” Eyes scanned Xóchitl despite knowing she had sustained no injuries, landing on her face to check her emotional state. It was hard to read, given Metzli’s lack of experience, but still, they tried. “I am very glad you are safe.” They smiled awkwardly, not paying their own wounds any mind. It wasn’t as if they’d suffer from blood loss. Hunger was hardly a visible pain, and Metzli was confident that they’d be able to hold their control until they were able to get home. “We…” They subtly covered their wound as best they could with their arm, continuing once they were sure no signs of pain could be visible on their face. “Should leave. Before it comes back.”

“Of course.” There was no reason to be contrary, and Xóchitl wasn’t often the sort to be contrary anyhow, unless the situation seriously called for it. Which this one very (very) obviously didn’t. Not to mention Metzli mattered to her, and she also knew that they didn’t appreciate lying, and would probably not appreciate a contrarian either. 

“I’m fine. I am glad you’re safe, too.” She sighed. Something felt off with Metzli, even if only slightly, but Xóchitl didn’t want to push anything – didn’t want to frustrate them – not that she was at all opposed to working with them when they were frustrated, but it seemed cruel to even begin to push the edges of what might have made them frustrated. “We probably should. Do you want to come by my place, or…?” She trailed off. “Whatever works for you.”

Metzli was relieved to find that Xóchitl was not only safe, but she didn’t argue with their decision to sneak away and go home. Not that there was much to quarrel about when both of their mortality was at stake and Metzli had sustained some injuries, but Xóchitl didn’t have to know about those yet. Or at all if the vampire had any say. “Your place is closer. We will go there and rest.” Slowly, Metzli rose to their feet and dusted themself off while they continued to survey the area in case the ghoul decided to come back. 

When no sound caused them any alarm, Metzli let out a breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding, and they trailed their eyes back to the grave they and Xóchitl had gathered to visit in the first place. They were unsure of what they’d see, if there was anything to be seen at all, but they were grateful to see it had been unharmed in the midst of all the chaos. A forceful sigh tumbled out of Metzli’s lungs, “I am sorry we did not get to finish our visit, but you can tell me much more about your friend at home.” They offered Xóchitl an apologetic smile that was a little awkward and rigid, but they knew she’d receive the message just fine. “Let us stop at the store and I will get things for champurrado.” At their own idea, the rigidity of Metzli’s flickered away, allowing it to form into a much more pleasant and genuine expression. “Leila always says hot chocolate can make anything better or easier. We will test that.” And Metzli was good at tests, always having to venture into new experiences blindly, but the next thing they did felt like something they’d passed several times before. Albeit just barely, without much time for studying. 

Their arm hooked with Xóchitl’s with ease, sending a happy buzz to their wrist. They could feel it, feel the way they’d done it right, and knew if things like physical interaction could be graded, they’d surely get those flying colors they’d heard so much about.  How did colors fly anyway? Metzli figured they could ask Xóchitl about it once they were home and safe, with cups of champurrado warming their hands. The image had them smiling and tugging Xóchitl along as they mused idly.

“Vamos.”