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smilesrobotlover · 7 months

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Chapter 1- hello again

Link had made plenty of mistakes in his life. Some of them were small, futile, and had very little consequence. Others were big, dangerous, and almost unforgivable. He couldn’t count how many times he’d almost lost his life due to his own foolishness, how many times he’d upset someone he cared about due to his temper, or how many times he was met with scorn due to his own choices. His life was riddled with mistakes, all having consequences that affected him one way or another, with some being forgotten, never to be spoken of again.

That mistake he made… he thought it wouldn’t be serious, he thought it would be one of the few that were forgotten. Sure it was a serious mistake, but it was one time. Surely the goddesses would be merciful on him just this once, right? Surely they would forgive what he did. He understood it was wrong, he’ll never do it again.

He hoped that they would forget about when he made love at twilight.

It was a moment of weakness for him. The girl who he spent his entire adventure with, who stuck at his side, who saved him, who he loved, was dead. Or so he thought. He killed the demon king with righteous anger swelling within him, grief gripping his heart so tightly it physically hurt, wanting to kill the man who killed her.

It was only after the demon king was dead when he discovered that she was alright. When he saw a familiar silhouette among the light spirits, he couldn’t help himself sprinting towards her, pumping his exhausted legs to where she was sitting to just make sure that she was real. That she was alright.

And she was. She was alive and… well… different. The light spirits removed the curse upon her that turned her into an imp, changing her into a beautiful twilight princess. He remembered when he first saw her. She was tall, with such loving eyes that stared back at him, her hair tied in the front, and her face… His brain blanked when he first saw her, and he didn’t say anything. He just stared.

“What? Say something!” She finally broke the silence, with a familiar teasing grin forming on her lips. “Am I so beautiful you have no words left?”

It was her, she was real. This was the Midna he spent so much time with, the Midna he fell in love with, the Midna he wanted so desperately to protect because of all she did for him. He smiled a relieved smile, and hugged her tightly, crying into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and cried as well. They were both alright.

Zelda arrived shortly after to be with her friend, talking about what happened and what should happen next. Due to Link’s injuries from Ganondorf, they decided to head to Kakariko where he could rest, and they spent a long time together.

When Midna and Link were alone, they would talk for hours, quietly so no one would know about her, and one night, they got a little carried away. They were sitting on Link’s bed at night, and they exchanged kisses, and they snuggled up next to each other, and kissed again. One thing led to another, and it turned into a huge mistake. After what had happened, Midna started avoiding him, whenever she saw him, there being a deep sorrow in her sunset eyes. Link didn’t know why she was suddenly acting like this, but he knew he was at fault. He should’ve stopped, he should’ve slowed down and got her off of him, he thought she wanted to do it, but clearly not. He was afraid he put too much pressure on her. He was just so happy that she was alive, that Ganondorf was dead, that finally he was able to have peace, and he wasn’t thinking. He tried to talk to her about it but she’d just brush it off, so he stopped bringing it up.

Finally, when Link was healed enough, Midna said that she needed to return to the Twilight Realm, so they traveled to the Gerudo desert, his heart hurting from having to say goodbye to Midna. She may not think of him that way anymore, but she was still a dear friend to him, and he still cared about her deeply. And though they could visit each other, it was always sad to see a friend go.

But sad did not describe the feeling he had when the mirror was shattered, with Midna gone forever. That feeling was sheer agony, the worst pain he’s ever had to endure in his life. It almost ended him, he almost changed into someone unrecognizable, and thoughts plagued his mind over it. Was it something he did? Was she that upset over that night? And what ate away at him the most: would she have a child because of that night? The thought of her giving birth without him being able to support her killed him on the inside. He felt like a complete failure, he hated himself, and he wished that none of it ever happened.

So he prayed to the goddesses to be merciful on him. Just this once. To not let Midna suffer because of his foolishness, to simply let that mistake be. He would never do it again. Just please… don’t let anything come of it… please…

Two years later had passed, and so did some of the pain. With help he was able to recover, his dear pa tried to reassure him that Midna didn’t leave because of him, that she still cared for him. It helped, even a little. And so he slowly began to move on from Midna, move on from that night. He never told it to anyone, hoping that it would be forgotten by him and the goddesses. No one else needed to know about the best and worst moment of his life. Though he did wonder, even though it hurt, if he had a child out there somewhere, a child that he could never give his love to.

But his question was answered one night.

It was pouring rain with distant thunder, and Link was tossing and turning for hours. He couldn’t do anything to get his mind to relax and finally sleep, so he let out a frustrated sigh and stared at the ceiling. Normally rainy nights helped him sleep, but for some reason that wasn’t the case tonight. He closed his eyes and let out another sigh. He knew it was better for him to stay laying down with his eyes closed, but being alone with his thoughts was almost maddening.

He listened to the pouring rain outside, the different sounds it made as it hit his tree house made him grateful that he had a roof over his head, and a roof over Epona’s head. Being wet was the worst feeling for him. He rolled over and tried to let the rain soothe him, and it almost worked until—

Thump thump thump.

He opened his eyes at the unnatural sound, sitting up and staring at his door, slowing his breathing so he could hear better. Did he imagine that? Who would be banging at his door in the middle of the night?

He flinched when there were three more loud thumps at his door, confirming that he did not imagine it in his half asleep state. He was wide awake now, and got up as his heart grew worried over who could be at his door. Was it Rusl? Was he alright? Was something wrong with his daughter? Or was it Illia? Was she alright? Though they rarely spoke anymore, she occasionally came by when she needed comfort. He reached for his door and let out a breath to calm himself, opening the door quickly.

But who he saw sent his heart into his throat.

It was Midna, she was standing there, a desperate look in her eyes. Her clothes were soaked as she stood in the rain, and the two were silent for a moment as they stared at each other.

Midna… after two years of accepting that he’d never see her again, here she was. She got much taller, almost double his height, her jewelry was more extravagant, but she herself, she still took his breath away.

Finally after a moment of silence, he finally found his words.

“Midna?”

Her breath hitched, and she shifted a bit, a bundle in her arms that he finally noticed. His heart stopped when he saw a child, no older than two, crying silently in her arms. He was clearly a twili, having bright red hair, dark blue skin, and black markings. He looked like Midna, but when he opened his eyes, it was without a doubt that they matched his own. Gray-blue eyes stared back at him in fear. For Din’s sake…

“Link,” Midna breathed out, “I… desperately need your help.”

Link stared at the boy in silence for a long moment, but he finally got ahold of himself. He took a deep breath and gave room for them to head inside.

“Y’all will get pneumonia if you stay out for any longer,” he said gently, gesturing to his home.

Midna smiled and a relieved tear rolled down her cheek as she slowly moved inside. Link got dry blankets, ignoring his thumping heart. The child was cautious around Link as he tried to dry him off. He stared at Link with confusion and awe, his mouth agape as the rag Link was using to wipe him down slid off his head. Link paused when he noticed his left arm covered in bandages, and he gave Midna a look, but she did not return his gaze, she just stared at a corner in the room.

“What’s your name, little one?” Link tried to ease the pressure, being as gentle as he could with the child.

The kid looked at Midna, then back at Link. He had fear in his eyes, Link could tell.

“You’re safe here, I promise… What is your name?”

The child looked down, and it took a moment for his sweet little voice to speak up.

“Um… Kowi,” he mumbled.

“Kori?” Link repeated, just to make sure he heard him right. Kori nodded and Link smiled. “That’s a lovely name.”

Kori smiled, dimples that matched Link’s appearing on his cheeks, only making it more obvious that he was his own. “Tank you, uh,” he looked up at Midna and she gave him a reassuring look. “Whasis… youw name?”

“I’m Link.”

“Nink? Um… tat’s a— um— nowvwy name.”

Link chuckled at the little boy trying to speak. He barely understood him, but it was the cutest thing in the world. “Thank you.”

Kori nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Mommy towd me stowies ‘bout Nink.”

“Really?” Link looked over at Midna, who continued to avoid his gaze. He sighed and returned his attention to his arm. He reached for the bandage but Kori froze and pulled back. His eyes were full of fear again. “What happened there?”

No one said anything this time. He looked at Midna and stood up.

“Midna… What’s going on?”

Midna closed her eyes and finally looked at him.

“It’s… He’s…”

“My son?”

Midna looked up with shame written on her face, and Link’s anger quickly went away. She shouldn’t be ashamed…

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, returning to Kori’s injured arm, “let me clean this, ok?”

He finished drying off Kori and changed his bandages as gently as possible. Kori stopped talking, only his soft cries and the sound of the rain against the roof was heard. As Link cleaned and redressed Kori’s arm, he noticed that it was a nasty wound, a slash mark trailing up his arm, and from the looks of it, it was fairly new. Who could’ve done this to a child? Kori whimpered and pulled back as Link tried to clean it.

“Sh, it’s alright Kori. The pain is only temporary,” he said gently. He wrapped up the arm and gave it a slight pat. “See? All done! You were brave, little one, good job.”

Kori sniffed and rubbed his eyes again, and Link frowned as his tired little eyes looked back at him. He didn’t know if Twili ever slept, so it must’ve been a Hylian thing for him.

“Here, let’s get you a nice place to sleep, ok?”

Kori watched Link as he set up a comfy bed made of blankets, gesturing for Kori to sleep in it. The boy stared for a long moment until Midna got up and nudged him towards the bed. With his mother’s reassurance, Kori wobbled over to the bed and laid down. Link grabbed his goat plushie Billy and stared at it for a moment. He knelt down next to the bundled up boy and handed the plushie to him.

“This is my friend Billy,” Link bounced the plushie around with Kori watching, amused. “He always gives me comfort when I need it.”

Kori shyly grabbed Billy and snuggled up against him. He closed his eyes and smiled.

“Tank you,” was all he said before he fell asleep.

Link smiled at him, he was a sweet little boy. He stood up, and the heavy situation returned to him. He walked to where Midna sat, still and unmoving and took a deep breath

“Midna… I,” he started, trying to think of what to say to her, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going, just trying to talk to her again, but all he could muster up was, “Hello again.”

Midna stared at him for a moment before smiling.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Link pursed his lips and decided to get everything off his chest.

“Clearly my actions have hurt you Midna, and I’m so sorry…. I’m so sorry about that night. If I could take it back I would!”

Midna’s expressionless face changed to confusion.

“What?”

“That boy… he’s ours… because of what we did…. And I’m so sorry… I know I hurt you and I wasn't there for you when you had him and I’m really sorry and I should’ve stopped and–”

Midna raised a hand to stop him, standing up and stepping closer to him.

“Link, do not blame yourself for what happened that night. It… wasn’t your fault alone…”

“Alone?”

Midna sat down, her head hung. “I didn’t do anything to stop it either… I knew that I needed to break the mirror, and I tried to keep my distance from you but… I didn’t. You didn’t know what I was going to do.”

Link stared ahead, not feeling any form of relief from that. He still felt confused, guilty, and almost sick to his stomach.

“Did that night mean anything to you?” He asked quietly.

Midna stared at him, her mouth slightly open.

“It meant everything to me.”

“Then why did you break the mirror?”

Midna looked down. “You know why. Deep down you know why. You saw what happened when Ganondorf went through the mirror, you saw what happened when Zant found him,” she sighed and sat back down. “Shadow and light cannot mix.”

Link looked over to where Kori, his son, laid asleep.

“Clearly shadow and light can mix,” he said quietly. Midna said nothing and rested her head against her hand. She looked exhausted, both physically and mentally. Link wanted to help her, but a few more things bothered him.

“How did you get here Midna?”

“I can't say. It must stay a secret.”

Link nodded, he figured that was the answer. Now for a more important question.

“What happened to his arm?”

Midna buried her face in her hands, her exhaustion more apparent. Link walked close to her and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, hey, It’s ok, he’s safe now. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

Link stayed by Midna for a while, rubbing circles on her back. After a moment, she sniffed and opened her mouth as if to say something, but she was interrupted by a sudden shiver.

“Here let’s get you into some dry clothes…” Link said, noticing how she was still sopping wet.

Link quickly dried her off and offered some of his clothes, even though most of them wouldn’t have fit. He was somehow able to find something for her to wear that would fit her large frame, and when she was dressed he sat down, waiting for her to explain herself.

“I…. I hoped that nothing would come of that night,” she finally said after some silence, “because if something happened, then leaving this world behind would’ve been nearly impossible for me to do.”

“But something did happen.”

Midna nodded, not looking at him. Link sighed, the goddesses weren’t merciful to him. His prayers were not answered. He wasn’t there for Midna, he didn’t watch his son grow up, he wasn’t there when he said his first word, when he took his first step, when his true personality began to shine through. To Kori, Link was a stranger, not a father. And Midna had to raise him all by herself. A lump in his throat formed and his stomach felt hollow.

He should’ve stopped that night.

“As princess of the twilight realm, when I’m supposed to have a child, she should be a female, so that the monarchy can continue. I’m the only woman in the Twilight Realm, I’m not sure if you knew that.”

Link tilted his head. He did not know that. It would explain why he’d only ever met male twili besides Midna, and why the only female was the ruler. It almost reminded him of the Gerudo, which was rumored to be a tribe of women except for the one male born every one-hundred years.

“When I gave birth to Kori,” Midna continued, “he was a boy, and he wasn’t fully Twili… that ended up scaring some people. They thought that he was going to bring destruction to us.”

Link’s heart sank. She didn’t have to say, he knew.

“They hurt him.”

“I’ve been trying to find a way back here so he could be safe… but as soon as I found a way… he… got hurt badly by my advisor.”

Her breath hitched at the memory, and Link grabbed her hand. She smiled at him, a small but genuine smile.

“He’s safe now. You both are,” he reassured.

Midna stared into his eyes for a long moment.

“I missed you Link.”

He sucked in a breath. He’s missed Midna more than anything. He wanted nothing more than to see her again, to talk to her again, to tell her about all of the things he’s experienced. But now that she was here, he didn’t find anything to say. He didn’t make a move to hug her, to cry, he just felt… awkward. Midna’s smile went down when he said nothing, and she gently rubbed his hand.

“I know I hurt you, and it’s not right of me to ask this of you but… I was hoping that Kori could stay here… he’ll be safer here, with you.”

“Safer here? Yeah I would never hurt him, but I can’t say the same for the rest of Ordon. How do you know that everyone here will accept him? How do you know that they won’t be scared of him too?”

Midna leaned in closer. “Because they’re your family Link, you have a better influence over them than I over my people.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Just because I’m the princess doesn’t mean they listen to me all the time. It’s complicated but clearly I couldn’t do anything to protect him from my advisors. Your family loves you, they trust you, they’ll try to understand you.”

Link listened for a moment, but pulled his hand away when a heavy realization plagued his mind.

“Midna… we’re not married.”

Midna raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“I don’t know how it is in the twilight realm but having a child before marriage is a sin here. I know my pa wouldn’t hurt Kori, but…” fear gripped Link’s heart at the thought of Rusl’s reaction towards Kori. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “There’s a lot of problems here, Midna.”

Midna looked down and chewed on her lip, thinking.

“I… I know… I know there are a lot of problems but… I can’t let him stay in the twilight realm.”

Though he felt like Ordon wasn’t safe, Link understood why the twilight realm was more dangerous. As a half Hylian and half Twili, Kori really wouldn’t be safe anywhere. He’d probably be labeled as a monster all his life because of who he was, especially after the twilight invasion. Link let out a breath and stared at his sleeping son.

“I understand…”

Midna stared at him for a moment while Link stared ahead, avoiding her gaze. She scooted a bit closer to him and tapped his shoulder lightly.

“Hey, I’m not going to let you deal with this alone.”

Link looked up at Midna, a sliver of hope forming within him.

“We both made the choice that night, Link, neither one of us should deal with it alone,” she got closer and stared into his eyes while Link’s heart thumped against his chest. “We’ll raise him together.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and the past two years separated withered away for them. When they were together now, it was almost as if they were never apart.

“I can't abandon the twilight realm, but I’ll try to visit whenever I can. I just need Kori to be safe.”

Link looked down and their clasped hands, then at the sleeping child. An overwhelming feeling of protectiveness came over him, and he nodded. “I understand Midna… I promise I’ll keep him safe.”

Midna smiled. “I knew you would. Trust me, I wouldn’t ask this of you if nothing bad happened but—“

“Don’t worry about it. I’m his father, he’s my responsibility now.”

Midna stared at him for a long moment, then she leaned in, Link’s heart nearly jumping out of his chest. He wanted so badly to show how much he missed her, he wanted to scream to the heavens on how happy he was to see her again, but… he felt too much pain for it to be perfectly fine, and he turned his head away.

“I’m sorry Midna… there’s a lot more we need to talk about.”

Midna let out a sigh and smiled.

“That’s fine, I’m staying for a while anyways. Let’s talk.”

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saturdaynightghostclub · 1 month

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The Many Lives of Arthur Llewellyn

You know how sometimes you can look at a person and just know, instinctively, that they came from some cosmic elsewhere? Their face, their clothes, their speech—it all belongs somewhere specific, somewhere other than where they are. Every now and then you come across a time-traveler, an astronaut, a lovelorn Victorian in the body of a twentysomething city-dweller. Your Arthur is one such curiosity, you think. A cursory glance would place him on a street-corner in Greenwich Village, or smoking a cigarette beneath a gas lamp in San Francisco. He’s got that foggy beatnik thing going for him. That he exists among the long-haired, strong-armed Seattleites of 1995 must mean that someone out there in the galactic mist is looking out for you; by all accounts, you should never have met this walking anachronism.

But you did, and against all odds he’s currently sitting at your dining room table and using a set of nail clippers to mend the clasp of a necklace his mother insisted was too broken to continue wearing. He suggested she take it to a jeweler, and her subsequent “Why bother” had riled him up to the point that he insisted on fixing the damned thing himself because, in his words, “Why bother? Why bother buying anything if you’re not going to take care of it? You just throw your clothes away when they get holes?”

“I can feel you staring,” he says now, without looking up. Guilty as charged, you hide your smile behind the copy of Howards End that you’re pretending to read. Maybe he’s a weary ship’s captain, taking meticulous care of what few possessions he has that remind him of his faraway home. Maybe somewhere he’s stowed a pair of red boots, made from fine Spanish leather, for safekeeping until he returns to his aching sweetheart on the shore. Maybe you have an overactive imagination.

Aunt Juley is sick, and Helen won’t come home to the grieving Schlegel family, and won’t she reconsider ending her engagement to Paul? Who cares, when Arthur Llewellyn is carefully slinking toward triumph in the battle against his mother’s gold chain? You turn a page without reading it, your eyes still trained on your boyfriend’s long fingers until, with a soft and disbelieving gasp, he holds the chain up for you to see. The clasp looks brand-new, and even if he did only fix it to spite his mother, your heart flutters with pride—he’s a sensitive one, whether he likes it or not. You happen to know that the necklace was given to Mrs. Llewellyn by Arthur’s father: an emerald pendant, her birthstone. The Llewellyns are not sentimental people (with the exception of their son, that is); according to Arthur, he’s had to practically beg them not to donate his great grandmother’s china sets on more than one occasion. As a consequence, his own apartment is full of antiques and souvenirs he couldn’t bear to see thrown away.

You move closer to him under the pretense of inspecting his work, rising from your chair to stand beside him.

“Very nice,” you say, “are you sure you want to keep going with this teaching thing? I think you’ve got a real future in jewelry repair.”

Arthur tilts his head back to look at you, placing the necklace down on the table. You run a hand through his hair, letting your palm come down to cup his face. He leans into you like a man deprived. You sometimes wonder if his immediate family’s stoicism did a little damage to the part of him that now seems to need your touch like oxygen. “Funny,” he says, “I was thinking the same thing. You think they’ve got good benefits?”

You smile, running your thumb across his sharp cheekbone. He’s been frustrated, you know, in the days leading up to the start of the school year. The school’s curriculum, which he says is “unbearably boring,” leaves little room for creativity, but he’s trying his best. He’s starting his students with The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy this year.

Arthur is flexing his hand repeatedly, probably working out a cramp from his delicate operation with the nail clippers. You perch on the edge of the table, sliding back to a full sit, before taking that hand in both of your own. Slowly, gently, you massage the tension out of his fingers while he looks on in awe. “You want to get out of here?” You ask, “It’s a gorgeous day. Take a walk with me?” He nods, allowing you to lead him out of your apartment and into the midday air, perfumed with lilac and salt.

Your building is on one of those dreadful Seattle hills, the ones you don’t realize are as steep as they are until one day you put on your favorite sundress and realize your calves look absolutely stunning. You lead Arthur up the block, ignoring his halfhearted protests until you’ve made it to the top of the hill. There, he lets his hand go to the small of your back, keeping it there as you continue to walk. After a moment’s silence, he leans over to kiss your temple. “I love you,” he says. Casually, like he has so many times. Like it’s a way to fill the silence instead of a world-bending declaration, like he couldn’t bring you to your knees at any moment with it.

“I love you too,” you say, knowing it carries the same weight for him.

“Can I be so corny for a minute?” He asks, his hand moving gently up and down your back as you walk.

“You can be as corny as you want,” you reply. Never in your life have you seen this kind of earnestness in a man. Never in your life have you even wanted it—never, until you had it.

Arthur takes a deep breath. “I’m really happy,” he says, his voice hoarse, “I’m so fucking happy.”

“Sounds like it,” you tease, nudging him.

“I am,” he finally smiles, “I am. It’s scary though, you know? I’d kind of reached a point where I thought happy was a myth. Or, no—not a myth, I just thought it was something for other people, right? Like, when they’d talk about how happy they were, I thought either that they were exaggerating or that there was something wrong with me, because I didn’t know what they were talking about—does that make sense?”

You stop walking for a moment, turning to Arthur. “You’ve thought about this a lot, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says. You respect his lack of sheepishness. “I’ve had to, you know? It’s like I’m experiencing this whole new facet of human life I didn’t know existed. Like maybe I thought I knew, and you’ve just turned everything upside down.”

You’ve got no choice but to kiss him. There, on the street corner, where it’s nothing short of edenic, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your lips to his, hard and sweet. He gasps against you in that way that you love, that way that lets you know you’ve taken him by surprise once again. His shock is only momentary, however, and within seconds you’re wrapped so tightly in his arms that he’s all you can feel, all around you.

“Arthur,” you say, coming down off your toes and letting your hands drag down his chest, “if this is all it takes to make you happy, then neither of us has anything to worry about.”

The boy is grinning in earnest now, eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, fuck,” he says, shattering the illusion that he is anything but a west coast twentysomething, “Jesus, honey…”

He’s running a hand over his face now, like he’s trying in vain to wipe the smile from his features. “What?” You ask, grinning something awful yourself.

“I just saw the future, that’s what,” he says, sweeping you once again into his arms, “I saw my entire life in your face, it’s all you. All you, forever.”

You can’t help but to laugh, a stunned expulsion of joy you weren’t expecting to feel. “Oh god, you’re stuck with me then?”

“There was never anything else in the cards for me, to be fair,” he says, “and just to be clear, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Arthur’s a bit of a mystic about things like that—souls and stardust and past lives—it took you by surprise at first, but you’ve grown to realize it’s maybe the thing that makes the most sense about him. Of course your out-of-place, out-of-time alien creature of a boyfriend thinks—knows, if you ask him—that the two of you are cosmically entwined. And you, for your part, know that you would rather die than deny him these little fantasies. After all, it’s you who sees a thousand lives in his face, each more complex and profound than the last. Between Seattle and England and outer space and the Pacific ocean, you find yourself hoping against your own iron-clad logic that the two of you will find each other again after this life (and after, and after, and after).

#toady talkin #can y’all tell I have been absolutely devouring Kelly Link lately #i don’t know where the dialogue gene went #she’s gone she left the building #anyway i hope you enjoy sweet anon! and whoever else might have wanted more of arthur lmao #also btw if you wanted to listen to Liz Phair’s Perfect World while you read……I wouldn’t discourage that

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collectivecloseness · 1 year

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Warm Bodies AU

Eddie Munson x reader

Chapter 1

[notes: R!Eddie. Julie!reader. Dad/leader!Hopper. (Hopper!Reader.) This chapter’s a bit of a longer one, bc there’s worldbuilding before meeting! Tw for this chapter: Zombies, guns, blood, flesh/brain eating (not super graphic), briefly dating j*son (for the plot)]

God, life sucks.

Well, Eddie guessed it wasn’t much of a life anymore. He was dead, he knew that, or rather, part of the undead. That’s who he lived with too. If you could really call it living in any number of ways.

Eddie lived in an airport with hundreds, likely thousands, of other zombies, God it made it sound like he was living in some Romero flick. But this was reality now. He knew it was true, he was surrounded by hundreds of actual, undeniable, flesh eating zombies. Eddie was one himself.

Not that he’d cared, or even had the brain energy to count how many zombies there were around. He knew there were a lot in just this place, but Eddie still felt alone. He just wanted to connect with people. Why was that so hard? Maybe it was to do with the fact he could hardly communicate. He was sure his thinking was normal, but he never had the fuel or care to get out more than a few words, barely stringing a sentence together.

And he was probably the most well spoken, among zombies he actually communicated with. Most just moaned and groaned. His best friends responded with words, but Eddie thought he was a bit different, his sentences a little more... he couldn’t say passionate, really, but put together.

He was sure he would have had so many people he connected with when he was alive. Maybe he would’ve even been popular. Someone with lots of friends and a big family, someone who had someone always just as bubbly as him constantly around, who always had company. If the darkening sparks in his unbeating heart, and the few synapses that still fired neurons around, were anything to go off.

He did remember a dad though. It was one of the few other zombies he did ‘speak’ to, that he cohabitated this airport with. He barely had memories anymore, but he was sure Wayne was his father in life. He wasn’t exactly sure why his name was ‘Wayne’ in his head, rather than ‘dad’, but the energy to care fizzled away, when he at least had someone to sit by and feel like he was with.

There were a couple of zombies who stood out to Eddie. He had two other friends, who’d barely managed to stumble out their names of ‘Gareth’ and ‘Jeff’ when he first met them, although Eddie had no idea when that was. Eddie wished they could all just... do something, something together as friends. But those two were always happy, if you could use the word, to simply shamble about, so Eddie didn’t protest.

A couple of others stuck out to him. Three kids, boys, who always stuck together, that Eddie seemed to find himself watching longer than other strangers here, when they passed. The kids watched him too, with their duller eyes. The one with curly hair who was always wearing a cap, was the one who Eddie spotted immediately whenever the three briefly passed by him, on every creatures never ending loop throughout this airport.

There was one place, Eddie could call his own in this area. A home. An airplane, that Eddie never let anyone else inside. His Wayne had been allowed to see the outside, shuffled fowards by Eddie who could almost even come across as eager to show it off, like a child with a cool toy. Although there were no memories of that, more so the feeling of nearly having pride, twitching some part of his brain that that was what that experience was akin to. He’d let his Wayne touch the outside of the plane, having let Gareth and Jeff do so too, and even once, when the three boys found their way there, Eddie had let them explore the outside.

Anyone else, near Eddie’s plane, had been shrieked and bitten at and attacked, if they’d tried to come inside. None of the others like him cared enough to fight over it, so it was usually fine. They all just stumbled about the runway, uncaring towards anything like an object, such as a plane, because they didn’t care about anything at all. Except food.

It was another reason Eddie knew he was different, because not only did he, somewhat, care about his plane, but also the things inside. Eddie knew he was a kleptomaniac, but in this world, that shit didn’t exactly matter. Anything pretty that caught Eddie’s eye, made him tilt his head in an almost feeling, almost remembering way, he had to bring it home and keep safe. He stuffed it inside his pockets, and took it to his plane, to keep on display. Not just to be looked at, but to be used for it’s purpose. To be held over and over. To be touched, and explored, and cherished.

His Wayne, once, had picked up a very pointy funny shaped dice, that his hand had accidentally fallen on, and Eddie, who was sitting beside him at the time, had nearly had his eyes shine. A long whimpering groan came out of his throat as his Wayne briefly ‘studied’ the item, but even without hearing Eddie’s noise, he would’ve passed the item over to the man beside him anyways.

Eddie had never really been ‘gifted’ anything. The others wouldn’t care enough to pick up an object, to even see most as ‘special’ like Eddie did, and then remember to carry them around, carefully, to seek out Eddie and pass it to him. Zombies didn’t seem to put that much thought, or effort into things. But whenever Eddie had been next to his Wayne, in the few times his Wayne had found something in his hand, he had passed it to Eddie. So Eddie kept all of them, even if they weren’t items he usually would have swiped, because Eddie knew he yearned for humanity.

He wasn’t sure if the others did, or maybe they just couldn’t communicate it. Although Eddie was the only one of him he’d seen, who had special objects and tried to communicate more, to put himself out there. He remembered raising his arm, to wave at somebody once, but they kept standing on their escalator, not even keeping their head where they could look at him.

Certainly his friends maybe more than others might have some semblance of wanting the same, if he had to stretch an estimate, with what he had to compare to, but Eddie knew he was different. He... he liked, these things. He wished he could properly care for them, but they made him nearly feel something, even if it was a ghost of a memeory versus an emotion, but in this never ending loop, it was enough.

At least he wasn’t like the boney’s. No, they were the undead like him, but who had completely given up. Eddie shambled past a solemn and depressed looking woman, who seemed even more dead than he and the others were. On the inside, Eddie grimaced and groaned at her to stop stop stop eww, as she idly ripped and ripped a chunk of flesh away from her chin. Eddie thought of picking at spots, something the undead didn’t really have, so it must’ve been some form of memory. And he watched as her skin peeled and split into a girthier strip of flesh, until eventually it broke away at the top of her nose, leaving the left side of her chin and upper lips, with nothing but dark grey bone.

This was what the boney’s were. Skeletons only. Creatures who had completely given up on their un-life, and wasted away, until whatever ‘humanity’ they must have still had, like Eddie and his friends did, was completely extinguished.

These creatures would rip apart anything with a heartbeat. Even Eddie and the others stayed away from boney’s.

Of course Eddie would be a little hypocritical branding them monsters. They were, but so was Eddie. So was his Wayne, and his friends, the three kids he saw, and every single zombie in this world. They had to eat the living to survive. It was just nature. Eddie felt a sharp, twisting pain in his stomach, as he reflected on his monstrous side, leaning against the bar table where his best friends Gareth and Jeff were sitting together.

He didn’t want to hurt people. He really didn’t, he didn’t think he would have wanted that when he was alive. So why, now he was this, should he, Eddie, be any different?

Besides, humans tried to shoot at him all the time. Not only shoot, but use fire, axes, one woman even sent a sharped board sign at his chest once, Eddie thought he could remember not eating her brains, but he wasn’t sure. They tried to kill him, and his others. And, yeah, he knew they also tried to kill them too, but it really was kill or be killed. Of course Eddie would get a little cranky if he was already hangry, and someone tried to blow up him and his ‘friends’! Back when he was alive... well, maybe he still wouldn’t have killed those who tried to hurt him, or those he cared about back then, he supposed, but he was sure it was human nature to fight back. He understood why both sides did what they did. He was just obviously going to fight on his own team.

If he only ate their flesh, his... his victim, although he hated the word, he didn’t think highly or deludedly of himself enough to decribe his feats any other way - if he only ate their flesh, then a victim would become like him, a member of the undead. But their brains were the best part...

Without their brains, they’re fully dead. Not undead, not a boney, just gone. And in some way, Eddie could almost feel thankful he, his Wayne, and the others he thought of had had their brains spared. Even if you could hardly call this a life, not one you should be grateful for anyways. But the brains were the most filling part, the tastiest, the only thing that satiated his undead nature.

However there was one downside to eating the brains. You gained your victims memories. Their thoughts and feelings for those whiles too, while he ate. Eddie hated that part. He was sure he’d feel regret, guilt, if he was human. If the fullness of brains did not appease his appetite so well. He did wonder if others felt that way, after living through their victims eyes for a while. But Eddie never found the words, or the strive, to ask.

Instead he nudged Gareth’s shoulder with his arm, the two boys at the bar slowly groaning as they turned to look up at the curly haired boy.

“H-Hungry.” Eddie stuttered out, groaning roughly as if to show it. The three boys all grunted at the same time, rhythmically. About as close as an interpersonal connection they could get, except for maybe whatever their internal monologues thought. Eddie still had no clue if they thought as much as his brain seemed to.

Gareth eventually spoke up, him and Jeff barely managing to hit each other in agreement. “City.” The three boys nodded in agreement, as Jeff, then Gareth, slowly stood.

Zombies nearly always travelled in packs, as it was safer that way. Eddie lead the front with the other two boys, with about four more undead behind him. He didn’t see his Wayne, but he’d seen flesh dangling from his teeth yesterday morning, so Eddie wasn’t moved to stray from the pack.

Eddie did like being alone in his plane, but when it came to hunting, you almost always travelled as a group.

In the couple of years since the world changed, you hadn’t much.

Sure you’d had to grow a bit tougher. You didn’t have the life you thought you would when you were five years old. But you were lucky, in a way. You still felt like you were you.

Since the outbreak, your dad had gone from Sheriff Hopper, to the leader of your community. Your town, bordered by a massive wall that had been built in the years, was made of scrap and junk that no zombies could get through. You were lucky to still have your dad, even if he’d gotten gruffer than you remembered him being before everything happened. You even still had your friends, this side of Hawkins being fortunate enough to not have many infected during the start of the cataclysm, so you all had time to create enough of a barrier, to begin making your new society.

Robin, Nancy and Steve had been your childhood best friends, and you four were still a very close group. But you’d only met your now boyfriend, Jason, in high school. You never felt as close with Jason as you did with your friends, but you supposed that was to do with the life long bonds you guys already had. Jason was nice enough anyways. A gentleman, respectful, he was the first person to ever tell you he loved you. And you did too. You thought. According to one conversation with Steve, you apparently felt nowhere near what he had for Nancy, when those two used to date. But maybe you were just differnet than him. Your dad didn’t seem to mind Jason either. He didn’t particularly like anyone, of course barring you, and your three friends he’d watched grow up since babies. But he thought Jason was okay. Especially since Jason’s dad turned.

You showed Jason your route for escaping the confines of your walls, that Steve and Nancy had stumbled upon half a year prior. You five all knew of a weak part of the wall, that lead straight into a corridor in a damaged building that had once been part of your towns high school. It was a bit stupid to have an easily accessible exit next to a bunch of sneaky high schoolers anyway, with almost all of the other buildings of the school being right next to this wall. The nails weren’t even attached to the fellow sheet of tin. It was like having a key in a door that wasn’t twisted. You could pull away one sheet of aluminium, the nails all poking out, and they’d slot neatly back into place of the tin when you closed it.

That building of the highschool, adorned with posters in different languages so you could guess its old use, lead straight into a football field. That’s where you five all snuck off to in private.

And that’s how you and Jason escaped one day, only to find his dad and his team of scouts coming back from their mission. With empty bags, dead eyes, and stumbling with bite marks all over their bodies...

You’d always appreciate Jason for doing the right thing, even though you had no idea how hard it could’ve been. Watching him shoot his own father, to save both yours and his life, while the reanimated corpse of his dad lunged for his 18 year old sons throat, it had been hell. You couldn’t imagine what it was like for him.

You couldn’t ever imagine having to do the same with your dad...

Your dad hadn’t even asked how you two had gotten outside to see his father and the group, and you were thankful for that. Although you were sure he just forgot, in his efforts of aiding mourning families. Because your dad would never let you have an inch of freedom if he thought it was stupid and risky. He’d have boarded that wall up, and grounded you, and your friends, for a year. Instead, the hidden entry lay unused, too haunted for you, Jason, or your three friends, to purpose again.

You tried to help Jason, tried to be there for him. But things were never the same.

Jason had changed since then. He’d become angry and stoney, a bit like your dad. Versus someone who’d help you find hidden schnapps and beers to share with your friends, and would pull you into cars for late night make out sessions. You did understand his change. Jason wasn’t the... bubbliest, of individuals before his father. He never seemed quite as nice as your friends, but he wasn’t bad. Not at all. But since the incident with his dad, he’d been itching for his first official mission out there.

And while you and your friends weren’t eager, you, at least, were glad to finally be able to help. Beyond learning in school and running small errands, and staying out of trouble, which was what your dad asked most.

You knew Robin was probably the most worried, Steve and Nancy hid it better, but you’d all told Robin it was good to be nervous. That meant she was cautious. She’d be prepared. But all four of you were ready to go outside together, the first time you’d have seen the rest of Hawkins beyond its wall for a couple of years. You four- no, you five, Jason was a part of your circle now, you weren’t sure why you always had to remind yourself of it. You five, and four from the older groups, who had explored before, were setting out. Even those four though were only a few years older. Not much experienced themselves.

Although on the day of, Robin and Steve had been called to help with a semi-emergency. Something technical had occurred in the water mill that powered your ‘town’, and as a couple of close by workers panicked at the sudden explosion of streetlights above them - you swore your dad would jail people for panicking if he could - they’d accidentally released the horse’s stable doors. Robin and Steve had been singled out quickly by a guard, asked to go round the horses up while other adults who were at a much higher level of importance than you guys, sorted out the generator.

Steve had worried you’d be two short, wanting to come help, and Robin had slightly complained about not being able to all leave for the first time as a group, like you’d always planned. But you and Nancy assured them you’d all be fine, go catch the horses. You two both shared a giggle as they ran after the same horse, barrelling easily past them, but Jason had just exasperatedly sighed after them, marching closer to your side now Robin had gone. “We don’t even need them. We’ve trained for a year for this. I can protect you both with my bear hands.”

Jason hardly ever joked anymore, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t obnoxious. Showing off his gun that he was holding wrong. You moved his finger off of the trigger, considering his safety wasn’t on and you were walking down the street of the commune, before dropping your hand off of his. Instead turning to your remaining best friend, and slipping your opposite hand into Nancy’s.

She raised her shoulders with a smile at you, her confidence either real, or being as good an act as your own, as you three, and four extra, walked towards the massive gates your dad had sworn you away from every single day you’d lived here. You kept hold of Nancy’s hand, your other on the strap containing your rifle, as your dad got closer. You wished he’d at least give you a smile, a reassuring word or two to you for your first mission. But he did give a nod. And he did look at you as he started his speech.

“Thank you all for being here today.” Hopper started, still only looking into your eyes, as he addressed everyone. “I want to thank you all for your courage, especially those who’re venturing outside our town for the first time since this plague.”

Now your dad gave your shoulder a squeeze. It was just before he moved on from talking only to you, to speaking to everyone. You gave Nancy’s hand one more squeeze yourself, before exhaling quietly and dropping it.

“You already know your mission is to collect whatever you can from Hawkins Hospital, but the items on the list y/n and Shaun have, are the essentials we need most. Antibiotics, clean needles, and salbutamol for the inhalers, are what we basically have dogshit of now. But anything you can find on the list, or anything you know we’ll need, stuff inside your packs.”

You watched from your peripheral as Jason readjusted the straps on his backpack. They were basically empty, sicne the mission would be less than a day. Some water, basic first aid in case a non bite related injury occurred, two people with item lists, two others who were trusted, Nancy and Frank, with maps. And most importantly, bullets. Boxes were stuffed in everyone packs, with guns in holsters or being held by straps, and you and Nancy with a knife each. Although she was a hell of a shot, so you’re sure she wouldn’t need it.

Your dad continued, an air of real seriousness intensifying now. “But first, a word of caution.” Another look straight to you, before darkening on everyone. “Zombies are not like us. They don’t think. They don’t bleed. They don’t feel.”

You’d heard this a thousand times. This information was solid in everyone’s heads who still had a functioning brain inside. “They may look human, but they are uncaring, violent, savage monsters. Whether they were your best friend, your mother, your sister, that person is gone. Zombies aren’t like you or I. There’s nothing that makes them human, that makes them feeling, still inside. They are hungry, they are apathetic, and they are murderers. They will rip you apart with their bear teeth, the second they get a smell of you. So don’t let them close enough to do so.”

You stood firm as your dads blue eyes bore straight into yours. Watching his expression almost seem human, like he claimed he was, as he saw you understood. “You shoot to kill. On sight.”

“Straight in the head.” Jason boasted, your dad flicking his eyes towards him. Although he didn’t say anything. Just gave you one more look, before he checked with Shaun about final plans.

It at least gave you a second with Nancy and Jason, moving into a closer circle as you asked him a question. “You think we’re going to this hospital to help with a cure?”

Jason narrowly avoided rolling his eyes at you, but he did speak directly. “I don’t believe in a cure anymore y/n.”

Nancy bit down on her lip. You moved to face the door again. If he’d at least said it remorsefully, defeately, you would’ve at least felt bad. Wanted to talk about it more. But he said it like he was one of those men in power who didn’t think anything would ever change, and was happy sticking to the kill everything and just survive style, because living was too much trouble. That kind of person. Well you weren’t that. You never wanted to be that.

You candidly took Jason’s hand in yours, turning to Nancy to speak words of encouragement as you gave him that comfort. But instead, Jason shook your hand off, pointing back towards your dad who he was trying to listen to, as reasoning.

Jason was spun around to take in the conversation about the same non useful information of just “do what you were trained to and you’ll be fine”. Meanwhile your eyes were square on his face. You could still study him, from his angled body. Still take in his face, trying to figure him out like you always seemed to be doing now. Looking at him, as if it may be the last time, since it was your first leaving.

Meanwhile he clearly wasn’t thinking of you at all. At least, that’s what it seemed like. More focused on the whole ‘nothing can touch me’ confidence he was clearly brimming with, as he paid strained attention to your dads every word. Versus actually worrying about you, since things didn’t always go according to plan. You know what your dad says, but maybe you want someone who thinks more with their heart than with their brains, in this world.

At least you and Nancy had each other. Hugging fully and squeezing tight, she playfully tugged on your hair as her arms wrapped around your neck, and you giggled while yanking some of hers back. Like it was the last time you’d get to to mess with each other’s hair. Get to smile at each other as just best friends. Not as comrades in arms. No matter what happened, if you both came back, you could both be changed.

Your dad stopped his little meeting now. Stepping towards the huddle of fresh volunteers, and, with a quick pat to Nancy’s shoulder, he looked only at you. No goodbyes for Jason.

“Hey, kid, listen.”

“I know I know. Stick to the plan, don’t get bit or killed.” You gave a meek smile, but you grumbled your words.

Hopper shook his head “No listen. Just... stay safe. Don’t take any stupid risks, if you need to retreat...”

It was still advice. But it made your heart beat quicker.

Hopper sighed wistfully. “Just come back safe. Okay, sweetheart?”

You didn’t feel more scared, at your dad showing emotion, nearly showing vulnerability. It only made you proud, not in yourself, but of him.

He laid his hand on your shoulder, then once more on Nancy’s. “Both of you, you hear me? These items aren’t as important as you two, just do what you can, and get home.” His face barely changed, but his words stayed clear very purposefully, head bouncing between the two girls he’d watched grow up. Between Nancy Wheeler, and his daughter. “You keep each other safe. Especially with the others dropped from your team today.”

“Yes Chief.” Nancy nodded, gently holding your elbow.

“Yes dad.” You took in a shaky breath, before leaning to hug him. The one thing your dad didn’t disappoint you in - not as a leader, he did a good job at that, but as your dad, was that he still hugged you back straight away. Just like he did when you were a kid. When the world was safe. “Bye dad.” You mumbled, your rifle caught between both your sides.

“Bye y/n.” He responded, pulling back, and, while still not smiling at you, at least nodding, before giving Jason one as well.

Who seemed to beam under the acknowledgment.

You didn’t notice him now moving to slink his arm around you, because you and Nancy were focused on linking your arms with each other’s, stepping towards the gates as your free hands found your pistols.

Jason bristled by your side at the show up in front of your dad, but he was soon raising his rifle, as all seven of you, and the three guards behind, lifted your guns while the doors opened.

Nothing. Nothing but the outside of your wall, and spike traps on the sidewalks was there. The four volunteers coming to help the three rookies still kept their guns closer by, half raised, but you, Jason, and Nancy gawked, at the ruins of buildings right in your eyesight. The graffiti covering the walls so close, yet out of reach for you. And the grass, growing through the cracks of the pavement, even though nothing living must have been near for years.

You kept your arm linked with Nancy, as you three lead the front, and an awed smile crept it’s way onto your fresh face.

“Awesome.”

You all managed to get into the hospital with ease. No zombies to speak of. One actual corpse on the way, half buried in a car window, but it wasn’t like you guys hadn’t seen bodies at this point in your lives.

The walk took hours, so you weren’t surprised by the time you all got to the first room stuffed with medical supplies, two members of your group sat on the floor to just have a chat with each other.

You couldn’t deny, the feeling of success from actually being here, did wonders for the adrenaline in your blood, as well as your spirit. You, Nancy and Jason cheered when you broke the lock of the first cabinet, enabling Nancy to stuff shelves on penicillin in her backpack. And there was plenty more to go!

You slapped Jason’s arm when he attempted to smash a glass cabinet open, telling him you should probably try to stay quiet, but the feeling of pride didn’t let either of you sour over it, him smirking at you before grabbing some painkillers.

Nancy hissed for you, making you stalk over to her, curious from the smile on her face. Only to flip her off as she chucked a box of viagra into your hands. You threw it back at her head, before she tilted it at Jason’s back, with a comedically disapproving look at him. You knew Nancy wasn’t the biggest fan of Jason. Neither of your trio of best friends were. They didn’t hate him. You guys even had some alright times together, before his dad. Which none of you could really blame him for. And he wasn’t a bad guy. They’d just all told you the same thing. And not just as lifelong friends, but as a fact they really wanted you to understand. ‘You could do better.’

You threw a roll of surgical tape at Nancy, that she stuffed in her pocket, both of you sharing a giggle as you bent by the drawers, than lined every row of the room. Above the drawers, were the glass cabinets. Two columns of them, with several rows in the medium sized room. A couple of desks lining the final column.

Right as you were bending down, Nancy snapped straight. “Did you hear that?”

Everyone in the room fell silent. The four in front of you, who were supposed to be helping train you but had never even encountered zombies on their missions, just stiffened. Nancy’s hand resting on her shotgun on the table, while you stood slowly, finally seeing the wide white look in her eyes.

You hadn’t. But you trusted her. “We should go now.” You decided easily, Nancy nodding at you as she picked up her gun and headed towards you, near the back exit.

But Jason didn’t even flinch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, continuing opening and closing drawers, three of the other four wearily following his own movements. “Have you seen the reports on how much medicine we’re getting through each month?” He didn’t look at you, just kept digging around.

God that drawer was noisy. Your teeth clenched. “We should keep our asses safe versus-“

“Don’t be a coward.” Jason interrupted you, being assertive. He just came across as toxic. “We’ve got our guns.” He lifted his pistol to show you, making you blink furiously at the way he was handling this. You looked around at the people who ‘had guns’, the four of them back to just dicking about. Nancy only waiting for you to do something. You looked back at Jason. He smiled. “Those things are stupid brainless mutts.”

“They were people.” Nancy defended, always hating his brashness and entitlement. Especially as he snipped back at her. “I know Nance. ‘Were’.”

He turned back to his task. You walking to Nancy to give her an incredulous look, and to also stick close by her.

’Were, Nance!’ Nancy mocked to you, making you chuckle breathlessly as you went to reach another drawer.

This time, the thud was clear.

“I definitely heard something.” Nancy set her sawed off shotgun in position, as you grabbed your rifle from your shoulder. You and Nancy were near the penultimate row, with Jason behind you, and the four others in front. You should all just run for the back now, with your weapons ready.

But before you could silently order everyone that way, Jason stepped in front of you. And he kept walking.

Jason was slowly heading towards the door. Right where the noises were coming from. You could tell he was spooked. But so were you! Especially because he just kept going!!!

“Jason!” You hiss whispered, him looking back at you, stupidly, instead of the door with glass, in front. “We should definitely retreat now.” You urged, heart racing as your dads words echoed in your ears. So much you were scared you wouldn’t hear any thuds in front of or behind you.

“I’m just checking it out.” Jason whispered back, not quite as quiet. Getting to the front of the line, being the closest to the door and looking through the glass in the top half. Pistol in his hand, but not raised... before he exhaled. Turning around with a smile. “See? You’re just being paranoid-“

*BOOM*

Nancy shot a round right above Jason’s head. Straight through the glass of the door, where a herd of the undead were coming through. About the exact same amount of bodies you guys had.

You immediately knelt on the floor, half sheltered behind the drawers, as you snapped your safety off.

Eddie could sniff the living flesh from outside this buildings doors. Jeff hadn’t needed words to communicate, but being closest, he inhaled first, causing the others to quickly follow along. Eddie smiled the slightest at Gareth and Jeff, before they all meandered inside the buildings doors. He hated that it was a mean smile. But instincts were strong now he was hunting, and there was little time for humanity. Except for the humans themselves.

They followed the very strong scent now, as well as the noises, upstairs, until they rounded a corner, and they could spot their first human through the door.

A bullet burst through Gareth’s chest, brown blood just barely oozing in the wound, and a growl rose from his throat. Gareth kicked the door wide open, and the pack was released.

Eddie was growling now too. A wild sound, as the others ran for the humans left and right, Jeff barging forwards with Gareth, but knocking Eddie over in the process.

He strained his hands against the cold marble floor, lifting himself onto his elbow with ease, a snarl on his face. And that was when he saw you.

Eddie’s face dropped. His expression smoothed and expressively awed. As his eyes dilated, honed in on you. Bullets rang out like faint bells around him, as one of his favourite Chicago records span on repeat in his brain ‘I don’t wanna live without your love.’ There you were, twisting out from behind your cover. A rifle on your shoulder, pressing into your fleshy, warm, cheek. Soft, and squishy, against the pull back of your gun. Your eyes were sharp. More focused, more determined than anything Eddie had ever seen. Your pink lips, so full of life, just barely brushed against your gun, but you were silent. No screams of rage, just thought, and strength, and confidence, as your gun pushed back and forth against your shoulder, your body keeping straight with its vitality, while your pretty eyes focused on his surrounding comrades. Pretty...

Your hand expertly pulled back and forth on a mechanic hook, golden shell casings flying around your hair, that Eddie now noticed. The sun hitting it perfectly, from the glass shelves above you, and Eddie had never felt thankful for shelves before. Your hair cascaded around your head, being flipped away with ease, to show off more of your face. So full of life. So... so you. Eddie didn’t know you. But you were you. You were different. You were devastating, and you were enchanting.

Nothing else rang through Eddie. Not the screams of humans. Not the smell of flesh. Not the others. Not his friends. Not the zombie behind him getting shot, apart from the fact you were the one who aimed that way. Everything was slow. Everything was exactly what Eddie had needed, since the moment he’d come into being. And Eddie was stuck on you. You were the only thing. You were somehow Eddie’s everything.

Eddie’s eyes widened, almost looking like they had life in them, some sparkle as he rested where he was, just watching you. His tongue darted out, poking on his bottom lip, fully entranced by you.

You pulled back that pin, and no more gold flew to shower your being. Your face remained the same. Lips together, eyes so so bright, and your look captivating. You remained this way, as you dodged behind the drawers, and right out of Eddie’s view.

Something inside of Eddie sunk. And he panicked as you moved away.

His eyes widened, still feeling slow and sludgy, way more than his usual pale body did, as he pushed against the floor and frenziedly got onto his feet. Cold lurched up into his throat at your new absence, like a hole. Pushing his hands off the cold floor to stand up, slow, readjusting legs, carrying him as he groaned, not a noise of apathy, but more like an echoed whimper, hand outstretching for you as he stumbled quickly over to you. Unsteady on his own feet he’d just gotten used to, his song still playing in his thoughts. Shuffling closer to your row, to come find you again.

That’s when the first shot rang clear, not blurred by his ears or shut out by his brain. But loud, as a bullet forced itself into his shoulder, and shoved him back.

Anger overtook Eddie, as he looked up to the blonde man standing on top of a desk and smiling at him. Bouncing on his two, much more coordinated, feet. Eddie’s instincts made everything much clearer again. Like the cacophony of meat. Wet, sticky, hot, meat.

Eddie’s head tilted at the blue eyed man.

“Yeah! That’s what you get you fucking frea-!”

His feet were grabbed, yanked by Eddie’s very strong hands, as he slammed the man face first into the table. Losing grip of his gun immediately, and his hands panickedly scraping for the end of the desk. Eddie dragged him once, and he immediately fell to the floor right by Eddie’s feet. And he screamed.

The first thing Eddie did, while ripping the man’s arm up as he pulled him close, was to bite his venomous mouth deep into the blonde’s wrist. This way no matter what, he’d at least definitely fuck him over.

Eddie thought that his gold watch was sparkly, like your bullets, as the man screamed in pain and horror. Terrified of the curly haired man above him, teeth and jaw bloody with his own flesh.

Eddie didn’t like this one.

He smashed his once brilliantly smarmy face into the marble ground. Over. And over. And over. He couldn’t feel the pain of the bullet, but he still knew this man tried to hurt him. And it of course, made him pissed.

Luckily for Eddie, this guy’s watch slipped off as Eddie was doing so! He didn’t even think consciously about putting his watch in his ripped jean pocket, he just did it with his easily available left hand, while he tossed around briefly, the thought of eating this man’s brains.

Eddie didn’t really want this guys memories, his thoughts and feelings... But he was also hungry.

With the skull cracked open, Eddie began picking the best food source out of him, stuffing it into his drooling bloody red lips, the only way they could be as colourful as your living ones, hunger the one thing on his mind as he finally started to chew down.

As an older blonde haired man sat opposite this guy, Jason, on the seesaw, Eddie relished in the extra burst of humanity he briefly got to feel, while his stomach was satiated. His dad got up, Eddie’s view only up to his hips, before the smiling father lifted them, Eddie and Jason, higher and higher, closer to his height.

Eddie couldn’t hear his own groan of content he was making. Instead he was watching Jason’s hands score a basket, lowered clearly for kids. Other nine, maybe ten year olds, friends Eddie soon knew the names of, coming to celebrate around Eddie, who was feeling the rush, the pride, the genuine joy, of throwing that ball into that hoop.

A barely teen was punching Jason. Eddie felt the pain in his nose. Then he felt it in his fist, as Jason punched the red headed fourteen year old back.

Then Eddie saw hair he recognised. It was the back of your head. Y/n... He knew your name now. You had the prettiest name he’d ever heard in his ears. You turned back to look at Eddie. His heart skipped a beat. And then, your face smiled.

Eddie could decipher between the two men’s emotions, even enhanced by the former. Eddie felt like he was soaring. He hadn’t seen you smile before.

Another flash was before him, and this time, your face was closer. The classroom swapped for posters on the walls and a lamp. But you weren’t smiling. You looked nervous.

“And... well, you?” A nervous laugh left Jason/Eddie’s lips as well. Eddie could feel his heart pounding, he didn’t really remember what that feeling was like, but he was mesmerised by your face. Slowly, easing into another smile. This one full of exhilaration, of joy, of love Eddie/Jason thought. “I love you too!” You exclaimed. Eddie couldn’t even decipher his own feelings then, too caught off guard by the image of you leaning forward. Until you two weren’t in your bedroom anymore. You were both on a football field.

“I think we can be whatever we want to be. Fuck what they think.” You said, laying down with your arms beneath your head, and your chin tilted towards Eddie’s eyes. A hand shot out, gently brushing a lock of hair away from the hem of your sleeve, against the plush of your arm, and Eddie was uspet he couldn’t physically feel that. “Maybe.” Jason’s voice responded. “Maybe I don’t care what we do, who we are. As long as I’m still with you.”

You snorted. Eddie wanted to moan delightfully at the happy sound, but Jason just chuckled instead. Watching as you slid up onto the palm of your hand, and leant above him.

“Jason?” You asked. And Eddie wished it was his name leaving your lips instead. But then, the brightness of the memory began to flicker, and Eddie felt his tongue grow empty. Your face warped into a terrified look, and you repeated the same question.

“JASON!?”

Eddie shot up, in the lab again. That time was real.

Drool slobbered down Eddie’s chin and between his greedy fingers, twinged pink with blood, as he didn’t care to clean up his slobber.

Instead, he was looking straight up towards you. Your face was different now. Worried, like it was a bit in the tainted memory. You span all the way around, only for Eddie to see your gaze finally focus, away from the desk he and Jason’s corpse were hidden behind.

You were looking at another girl, frizzy haired and short, being pinned to the drawers by one of the zombies Eddie did not know. That determined look slightly covering your fear was enough to get a clear aim. One shot fired from your rifle, and Eddie saw the girl get freed, the other zombie slumping down her legs, and onto the ground.

Eddie actually felt fear now. Not of you, never could Eddie be scared of wonderful you. Fear you’d see what he is, what he’d done...

Quickly he stuffed what he could of the brains into his jacket pocket, fingers not nimble enough to do the leather’s zipper, although he did not care. He had more important things.

Clearly, you’d lost count of your bullets. He saw you staring at a backpack, but it was out of reach, as Gareth was tearing the flesh off a man right in front of it. He saw the panicked look in your face once more, saw you spinning around, and without taking his eyes off of you, Eddie began to move.

The first thing he did was wipe off the blood on his face, self-consciousness striking in his brain as he realised how that may look, and he wanted to look presentable. He didn’t want to scare you. Eddie rose, his eyes fixed on you, an awed look on his pale face once more, as he stumbled towards you.

For the first time, you looked right at Eddie, not through him, but at him. Eddie wasn’t sure he was expressing how this made him feel on the outside. His eyes did widen a little. But he just kept moving. Feeling like his legs were sludgy again. But semi-confident as the room quietened down, with just his friends eating.

Eddie saw fear flash across your face. Before you quickly searched your pockets. He understood why you might be frightened at first, but he kept going, knowing he just needed to let you know-

Eddie looked down as he saw a knife, thrown, and wedged, just below his heart. A saddened expression flickered onto Eddie’s face. Stopping for a moment as his lips turned upside down, while he slowly pulled the knife out. It didn’t hurt, Eddie just felt slightly hurt, a whimper in his throat as the brown blood lightly smeared his shirt, but didn’t flow. The knife clanged to the floor as Eddie casually dropped it, hurt expression slightly lifting, with every step he took closer to you.

You squeaked. And Eddie supposed an instinctual fearful sound was alright, survival wise, if it was quiet. Eddie wouldn’t judge you even if it wasn’t. Eddie would never judge you.

You shuffled to the side near your drawers, backing up, before very quickly hitting it. Now your eyes weren’t leaving Eddie’s either.

Eddie kept walking, your scared expression on your face making Eddie’s lip wobble, as he tried hard to speak. Eyes purposeful on you now, trying to communicate with you. His eyes trying to let you that know he was trying.

Your lips were parted now, a petrified tremble of a sound leaving your throat, as everything flew out your brain, leaving only your racing heart beating the imminent fear around you. Of this thing you’d learned to be scared of, in the form of a curly haired, still brown eyed man. Who was shambling towards you with purpose.

“Yyyy/- y/nnnnn...” Eddie stammered quietly, trying to calm you, with an upturned and open hand. Watching your face pale in confusion at this man knowing your name, this zombie speaking to you.

You slowly slid down against the drawers, Eddie following you, face to face, as he finally got close enough. You both fell to the floor, and Eddie’s eyes squinted.

Your face no longer held horror. Instead, you looked defeated, with a hint of perplexity. Tears fell from your cheeks, and Eddie’s own eyes began to soften. His face fell, spattered with small drops of blood, but genuinely smooth and saddened, his eyebrows raised in slight hope, his lips opening and closing with effort. “Yyyyy/nnnn.” He tried again.

You were more confused. But also more scared. Now at least you realised it was no accident, no one final word. He... the man who looked like you shot his puppy, who was gently kneeling down near you as you started to cry, was trying to talk to you.

You didn’t sob. You couldn’t. But a few tears still ran hot down your cheeks. Eddie’s index finger, clean, pale, and adorning a dirtied silver ring, slowly, and trembling, began to raise up. If it’d been his whole hand, you’d have been terrified, but his singular finger made you aghast. Especially as, when you screwed your eyes closed, you felt the cold, but calloused flesh, touch your cheek so gently. Eddie’s finger brushed down your cheek, lingering a little at your chin, as he clearly wasn’t super coordinated. You opened your eyes, to check if this was actually happening.

When you did, the zombies paler brown eyes were fixated on your wet streak, eyebrows scrunched almost... almost forlornly, at your tears. When his eyes shot back up to your own you hiccuped, leaning further back into the drawers as best you could. But you stayed deathly still, as his finger gained closer again. The man was still shaking, so it worried you more when his finger came close to your eye, but he was precise. It was like he was focused. His finger very very gently found the waterline of your eyelid, and so so carefully, it dipped slightly into it. Almost pulling, but extremely delicately. Soaking away your tear, as you stared awestruck, in disbelief, and worried about your eyes, while this sad looking man, felt the drop of your tear accumulate quickly from your eyelid, onto his finger, streaking down it. And you swore you heard the zombie gasp.

He studied his damped finger, before brushing it down the apple of your cheek and away.

Suddenly, Jeff started upwards, bringing both yours and Eddie’s heads, who were hidden in your position, straight to the bloody jawed zombie. The other three survivors near him, raising slower, but all of them beginning to sniff the air.

Your heart thunked in dread, but you didn’t get much time to look at them, as Eddie close by your head, swung back to look at you. He held a similar dread to your own.

Eddie whimpered, for you. His mouth gaped open, jaw slack, and eyes bugged. His eyes scared. You whimpered too. He knew the others wouldn’t understand. But he had to keep you safe.

Eddie placed his hand some inches away from your head, against the wall of drawers, trapping you in his little pile with him. You didn’t whimper, you were too scared of the others, but a wave of angst did hit at the finality of being sealed in with him.

Whatever he was doing with you.

An idea quickly formed in his mind, and Eddie drew his bloodied hand to the knife wound in his chest, circling the hole of brown blood that stayed in place. Until Eddie dug his fingers around a little. Scooping up the blood, with a caring expression, Eddie gently went to smear his blood onto your skin.

Your face twisted back in a grimace. Too scared to move away, too frightened of this monster. You had no idea what he was doing, but you felt a gross pit of defeat, as you held your breath, and felt his fingers once again caress your cheek. This time, grimy and bloodied with that awful colour.

Eddie traced his bloody fingers down your apple, and the indent of your nose, letting his heavy hand fall, with grace, sweetly down your chin, his fingers drawing down the side of your neck, dragging tenderly to your collarbone, where he pulled them back.

His eyes stayed tracking the smear of him marking you. Making you bite your lip more with fear, as he simply focused on his task.

Once again, Eddie’s hand gently rubbed down your face, repeating the process of covering you with his blood. Stopping on your neck this time, before he finished.

No grunt of approval. Nothing. Eddie’s eyes were transfixed on where your neck met your shoulder, his stopping point.

You didn’t move. You were too scared to. You just sat there, staring forwards, too frightened to look at what you knew was a monster, as he slowly, began to lean in.

You didn’t swallow. You didn’t think about your dead friends. You didn’t think about the other zombies. You just sat there, breathing shallowly, as the zombie moved in. Staying still for him, while his hair gently pushed yours out of the way, hovering unsteadily by your neck.

You could hear him sniffing. Small sounds, like an animal, a beast, scenting you. But gentler sniffs, like they weren’t from his frame. The bursts of air against your neck made you shiver. One last small tear escaping your eye, not even feeling the need to cry anymore, body just tingling all over instead. As the tip of his nose gently brushed your jaw, tracing the outline of it as he continued sniffing at your collarbone. Blood dampened with his cold breath on your skin, rippling sensations over the little hairs all over you, including from his dangerous intimacy.

Your eyes managed to move downwards, looking at the mess of hair completely surrounding your side, seeing the look of focus in his eyes, as his nose continued softly creasing, in times with the tufts of his air he was laying upon your sticky neck.

Eventually, the zombie began to pull back, clearly satisfied with his scenting or marking of you, whatever he was doing. His soft nose bumped against the side of your neck as he shakily moved backwards. And your eyes blinked in shock to find the smallest of smiles on his face, even reaching his brown eyes.

“S-Sssafe...” Eddie smiled, feeling encouraged at the fact you smelled of him. You smelled of all of them. Like one of them. The others wouldn’t hurt you now, not if he kept you close by. He could keep you near him, while his blood on you was still there, and then he could take you home! Where you’d be safe with him!

Eddie’s smile widnened a little further, at the knowledge he was able to communicate that you were safe now with him! At least, he presumed you understood him, by the way your head tilted in slight disbelief. Your eyes holding his so beautifully... he swore he could read them forever.

“W-What?” You asked, barely above a whisper. Too in shock to even comprehend was was going on.

“Come nowww...” Eddie spoke gently, his hands taking both edges of the sleeves of your jacket, and helping pulling you up.

He was happy that this would work.

You were too shocked to stop him from pulling you. Trembling, as he brought you close behind him.

Eddie was still smiling, more gleeful than he’d ever felt in his entire un-life, as he brought you to his side, the others walking ahead of him as they’d only smelt the overpowering scent of their own blood.

Gareth walked slightly faster to be in line with Jeff. More likely, Eddie was just being slower, as he was helping you get on your feet. You were still a little shaky. But you managed again, only a small squeak, nothing loud, as Gareth’s cold arm brushed past your torn jacket sleeve.

You huddled close to Eddie’s side. Not exactly holding him, but not wanting to be anywhere away from him either. Pressing your hip into his, as his body slunk solidly with yours, happy. Eddie moved his hand from your sleeve, tenderly bringing it down, and wrapping his hand around yours. Focused on getting it right, as he moved his digits carefully, being gentle as he pressed his palm into your own.

You were so warm

He held your hand tenderly, but not loosely. Not tight and possessive either. Just secure. It was set sturdily in yours, pressing his fingers against the back of your hand, as he helped lead you forwards.

You were both stumbling, together. You mostly from fear and unsureness, Eddie helping keep you upright and moving, as you two went to join the group of groaning, mindless, zombies.

Eddie being anything but. Content, with a glazed over look that wasn’t apathetic, but pleased, in his eyes, as he looked forward, just ready to get you home.

As your feet crunched on the glass, you managed to look down to find Nancy. Seeing her hiding in the space under the drawers, peeking out at you, with an awful look on her face.

You very subtly shook your head. They hadn’t noticed her. And you and her both knew, it’d only be a suicide mission if she came out now. You tried to get one last look at Nancy, one last look at home. Before your best friend, with tears in her eyes, held her hand to her mouth and nose to stop herself from breathing too shakily, and watched as you were walked away, past her field of view.

You just had to look forward. You couldn’t risk giving Nancy away. Even the zombie holding your hand clearly had no cares in the world to check any of his surroundings behind him. He was still smiling.

You looked at him in terror, and wonder. Questions couldn’t fill your mind, it was just racing with the knowledge you had to follow him, to survive. You had no weapons on you, no backpack, nothing. You just had his hand in yours, and clearly he was willing to be some kind of shield for you. You didn’t know why, but you thought, maybe, he’d protect you.

As you got to the stairs, with the sounds of the others a floor below you, the curly haired man turned to look at you again.

A noise like a question left his thick lips. It was a sort of high moan, but very clearly the sound of him asking something. Your gritted teeth parted to take a rocky breath, staring at the crooked steps you’d taken up here an apparent lifetime ago.

Understanding him, but not speaking, you took the first step down.

Eddie kept hold of your hand, wanting to help you because you were still shaking, but you both made it down the stairs with no problems.

You two were still slow, Eddie didn’t want to give you away by moving too fast when not on a hunt, and he didn’t want to trip you, considering you were walking a little funny. But he managed to walk well enough to rejoin the group. A little space between you two and the others, at the back. You smelled a lot like Eddie though. Making him pleased with his good work.

You clung to Eddie’s side once again, not letting him go as you hid slightly into his dirtied leather jacket. And Eddie felt something swell within him. Almost beaming. He continued to look forward, thinking about how the sun had looked in your hair again, and thinking about you. He groaned happily, holding your hand closer to his body. Keeping you safe.

You stayed close to the one who’d... who’d done something, with you. You didn’t want to upset him. You didn’t want to alert the others. You had no idea why he’d covered for you. Or why he was holding your hand. What you did know though, was that you were going somewhere with him...

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