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rennorthernlights · 4 months

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The World We Knew

Chapter 1: Radioheart, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,

Trigger warnings; Zombies, mentions of death, very brief mention of suicide in the very beginning.

You can also go to AO3 for RenNorthenLights. I post more on there than here. If you go to my AO3 than PLEASE look at the tags for this fic! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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October-ish, 2023. Time??? Location???

It’s become almost routine now.

Waking up at the ass crack of dawn, checking her backpack, cleaning her rifle, making sure the ‘room’ she’s in is safe. Over a year ago she wouldn’t be up this early. Over a year ago she wouldn’t even be touching her fathers rifle without permission. But life has a funny way of throwing curve balls. In this sense, life threw a massive curve ball at everyone and everything. The world as she knew it become sick with disease— No, not COVID-19, though many speculated that it was the reason, the beginning of it all. No it was the dead-come-back-to-life-and eat-your-face kinda disease. Normally people bring up that type of disease in conversations with speculations on the “what if” scenarios of what they’d do.

Many of her college friends all had plans and ideas and yet most of them now roam the streets looking for the next person to chomp on. Ironic isn’t it? She never believed she’d live this long hell many times the conversation of “Quick a zombie apocalypse happens! What do you do?!” She’d laugh and says she’d die in the next month or two. To which her friends would moan and groan because surely “You wouldn’t give up so easily?? Come onnnn what would you actually do.” She’d think it over and before putting much thought, she said.

“I’d kill myself.” Her friends went silent before laughing at how serious she sounded and even she laughed. A good banter back and forth as her college friends sipped on cheap booze. “No, no, but in all seriousness. I’d stay with my parents. My dads a police Captain after all. He’s taught me how to shoot before I could write and my ma… well she’ll probably teach me something.” Snorting a chuckle since her moms a teacher. One of her friends asks what she’d do if her parents became zombies.

“Well I guess I’d try to find groups to stay in. What do y’all think? I guess I’d put up with y’all.” Nudging her friend playfully on the shoulder. Laughter in the room as the music starts playing and the cheep booze starts kicking in. As her friends dance and sing to “Only Girl in the World” by Rihanna she sits on the couch in deep thought. Her drink in hand as she thinks bout her life. Thinks about her finals coming up and how she’s gotta take all the tests to become a nurse. Both her parents were exceptionally happy that she didn’t follow in their footsteps.

“I love kids but please… do not become a teacher.” Her mother sounded so exhausted when they spoke early on the phone. “And don’t become a police officer!” Her father yells in the background. The running joke for every phone call even though her parents are well aware that she’s going to be a nurse. She’s been deadset on it since she was a kid. She doesn’t plan on telling her ma that she’s gonna try and apply to be the school nurse where her ma works. Sipping her booze some more as the apple news on her phone pings “Reports of a New Virus, Scientists say… ”

She huffs, reading the first couple of paragraphs before getting bored and exiting out of the article. “Probably another variant of COVID. Great another shot I’m gonna have to take.” Turning her phone off and chugging her drink before she starts dancing with her giggly and much too drunk friends.

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Oh how life turned so fast and so quickly the following week. Nearly half of the friends in the room became the first percentages of “Turned” and the other half “Missing, have you seen them?” She barely made it out herself. But that’s life. Cruel and beautiful and so, so lonely in the world she now knows. She stays too long thinking about it and she’ll drown. She doesn’t want to think about her friends, her home, her… family. It’s still too much even after all this time. Even with it being well over a year it still hurts.

Shaking her head of those thoughts as she gets situated. Glad that she triple checked the ‘room’ she’s in. Her anxiety has been through the roof these last couple days and every lil noise is having her jump. At least she can put her mind at ease since she’s checked and barricaded the exit. A couple deads outside that she handled quickly. Who knew that she’s be so proficient with a bat and knife? She’s a good shot but before a to keep her rifle hidden. Not many bullets being made anyways..

She turns her radio on as she waits for it to come to life. For months she been speaking on it. Using it as a dairy of sorts, it helps her when she feels the loneliest. Helps when the days feel colder than what it typically does in Texas. She spoke and spoke until one day it started speaking back. The man on the radio commented how he’s been hearing her speak and at first, he and his group thought it was a hoax since they couldn’t get the radio to work. She didn’t speak on it for days, but the men would still speak back and call out to her.

Finally, she worked up the courage to speak back and from then on, they’ve become a part of her routine. Once a day around noon they’d speak. She has her rules, No names, no locations, no descriptions. She doesn’t want to get attached only to one day not hear them speak back again. She doesn’t need another name added to her list of grief. That, and as much as she wants to trust them, she knows that humans can be just as dangerous if not more so.

“Static, come in Static.” She grins as she sits in the office room that she’s been sleeping in. Stretching her legs as she’s never gotten used to the floors even after all this time. Her legs stiff as her other hand rubs her knee. The radio crinkles and scratches until finally.

“Must you keep calling me that?” The man speaks, the heavy Scottish accent shining through, and she can just tell he’s grinning. “I’ve told ya, mah name is Joh- “

“No,” she cuts him off as she clicks on the button. “No names. I don’t... I don’t want to hear it, please.” She’s told him before that she doesn’t want to hear his name. He’s been understanding but sometimes he’ll still try it... The thought that there is an actual person behind the radio scares her and intrigues her. Hearing someone even through all this mess makes it all bearable even if it’s just by a little bit. “Don’t make me ‘hang up’.” A lighthearted threat. She wouldn’t actually do that. She needs her daily talks with them.

“I know, Bonnie, I know,” the voice speaks with understanding. The man knows all too well on why it’s easier to stay nameless, easier to not be attached incase the voice one day doesn’t speak back. “But one day I would love ta hear my name from your pretty voice.” The voice chuckles, “Where are ya now?” A hopeful tinged to his voice.

“You know I don’t give locations, Static.” Singing back her words with a furrow of her brow. “But… I’m in an office building.”

“Ah, I see that’s become a fan favorite of yours.” A tease in the man’s voice. “Oh, it seems my friend wants to speak to ya.” Her eyes perk up as she knows who is about to speak.

“Electricity!” She smiles big and she just knows Static is rolling his eyes.

“Sunshine haven’t heard from you since, Static,” emphasizing the other man’s nickname and she can practically hear the glare. “has been hogging you.” Electricity, as she’s been calling him even though he’s also tried to get her to call him by his name, has a much softer voice. Calmer and levelheaded compared to Static who's more outgoing and louder. She’s called them the duo 1 and duo 2 before she called them Static and Electricity. Much to their annoyance and amusement, much better than her other idea of calling them Thing 1 and Thing 2.

“Well next time hit him or something.” She smiles as she can hear Static mouthing off something. Probably Static telling him where she’s been in for a bit. “In an office building again? That seems to be your usual, yeah?” The man speaks lowly. His words concerned and yet with the subtleness of memorizing something.

“Am I that predictable, Electricity? She stands up from where she was sitting. “Static said something similar.”

“Not predictable just doing what you always do, Sunshine.”

“That’s… That means I’m being predictable.” She teases as he stammers.

“No, no, I meant that you are more comfortable with what you know to be safe.”

“Soooo predictable with my safety?” She teases as she can hear him muttering “bollocks” like he always does when, she assumes, he is flustered. “I’m pulling your leg, Electricity. Just messing around and being a brat.”

He laughs and sighs in relief. His voice cool like the summer breeze after a rainy day. “So where are you?” His voice sounding slightly insistent.

“No where near you.” Rolling her eyes as they always ask the same questions everytime they talk. “Quit askin, I’m fine on my own. I don’t do groups and you know why.” She’s told them about her run in with the only group she’s been with. Handmaidens Tale meet zombie apocalypse and she barely got out.

“I know, I know, you’ve done well on your own, but a little help goes a long way, Sunny.” Sometimes she wishes she would hate the nicknames that they give her but it does give a warm fuzziness in her stomach whenever they say it. Sighing as she speaks back. “Oh yes because you’re military right?” A bit of sarcasm in her voice as this is one of her questions that she always asks.

“Taskforce 141, Special Operation Forces, you already know this, Lass.” The other man speaks making her jolt. Guess he was listening in when she was speaking to Electricity.

“Yeah, yeah, just making sure you’re not lying and trying to sound more badass than you both already do.” Remarking quickly as a light blush spread on her face. The way he’s speaking sounds deeper. Like she’s in trouble somehow and he’s going to correct her.

“We know, Sunshine, we know you just want to be safe. It’s hard to trust especially with the dead around.” Electricity’s speaks softly, the cool to Static’s heat, “But to say it again; Joh— I mean, Static, is a Sergeant and I am also a Sergeant. Static is an expert in demolitions and trained as a sniper. I myself am an expert with prime target eliminations and covert surveillance.” He says it so sincerely and she has half a mind to believe him.

“And why are you all the way in Texas then?” They’ve told her how they moved up here and she knows the reason, but she wants them to say it again.

“We received word that a base, Fort Sam Houston, was working on a cure for the zombie virus. The BAMC is a hospital within that fort that was conducting research.” Electricity sites off the very thing that they’ve repeated for the last month.

“And?” She makes a go on motion that they can’t see but she knows that they can imagine that’s what she’s doing.

“But when we got there it was already over run and Kyl— I mean Electricity almost got killed in the process.” Static says, he sounds upset. “We’ve been over this, Lass. We tell you about the same things over and over again.” A hushed murmur from Electricity is heard and she starts feels bad.

“I know… I’m sorry, I just...” she starts off as she tries to not sound upset. “I just want to make sure that I can trust you. Last time I did...”

“Handmaidens tale, you’ve told us about it. The leader, Abraham, is a far-right Christian, yes?” Static says the man’s name and she shivers as she gives a tiny yes in reply. “He tried to keep you. To force you to stay with his group and be treated as a... how did you say it?”

“A breading cow.”

“Yes, that,” he sighs deeply on the radio, and she wonders what he and Electricity looks like. Wonders if they are as comforting as their warm voices. Wonders if they have beards or stubbles but her self-imposed rules keep her from asking. “I know it’s a lot, learnin ta trust when it's hard to. We’ve promised since the beginnin ta be honest and if I ever see him.” The threat is laced in his voice but he clears his throat. “Enough of that. We are finally moving to Houston. We acquired a car. A Jeep to be more precise. Any chance we’ll be near ya?”

“You might be…” she says softly as she bites her tongue. The urge to let them come to her gets harder and harder to say no to everyday they speak. “I don’t give locations, Static.”

“I know but can’t blame a man for trying. Oh?” She can hear his eyebrows furrowing as voices in the background speak. They’ve told her that they are a group of 4 in total. She’s never heard the other 2 speak but she can sometimes hear them… they sound funny. “It seems we have to cut this shorter, Bonnie.”

“We’ll speak again tomorrow, Sunshine, we promise.” The other man promises, and she knows they will. They’ve never broken a promise. Never did more than what they couldn’t do from the month that they’ve talked.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow and please,” she stresses the word as she hopes and prays that one day they can meet. That she’ll be brave enough to let them in and find her. “Please be safe. Please don’t get hurt, okay? I’ll metaphorically hit you, I swear I will.”

“Always, Bonnie, we will always be safe. Take care and check corners and windows. Make sure you can quickly get’n and out. Don’t go’n if your gut tells ya not to.” Static says, listing off his advice like he would to a fresh-faced recruit. “Don’t play fair and don’t play kind. Everyone’s an enemy until proven otherwise.” He waits a couple seconds before he passes it to the other man.

“Make sure to pack light and that you can easily grasp your weapon.” Electricity warns. A deep sigh from him before he speaks, “And if you ever… if you ever need help, just... please just tell us. We’ll do whatever we can to come for you, okay?” He waits and waits for her to speak but when she doesn’t, he sighs. He waits another minute and then the radio turns to static signaling the end of their conversation.

“I know,” she says softly as she hears the static of the radio. “Be safe, please be safe.” She murmurs the bits of name that she has overheard them say. Going against her own rules of not saying their names even though she knows it’s half of what their names are. She’s gotten too attached and now… now she’s worried. Worried for men she’s never met and probably never will.

“One can dream,” she rolls her shoulders and bends to stretch. Her stomach growling as she knows it’s about time to eat. Pulling her backpack on the office desk and opening it. A couple cans of food and jerky from gas stations. 2 water bottles and a simple medkit along with an extra shirt and pants. “Okay… raviolis or beans….” Humming as sits and pops open the beans. “I’ll save the raviolis for a special day.”

She’s sat for too long on her ass now it’s time to get a move on. Can’t stay for too long in the same places. Always gotta keep moving to different places. Curse the anxiety that still makes her think that a zombie is around every corner. Guess that’s what she’s been alive for so long.

#simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #141 x reader #poly 141 #ZombieAU #The World We Knew #TWWK #If you go to my AO3 please read the tags #It’s a slow build to when the boys finally meet Reader #No physical descriptions of Reader or a name for Reader #Reader uses She/Her pronouns though #Reader is Texan cause I’m Texan and I haven’t been to most other places so I just set it up in Texas

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shysoftbebe · 11 months

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Better me, than you {Ateez x Reader}

Ateez x Reader ~~~ "Found anything?" Hongjoong's voice fills the air, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you rifle through the drawers, hoping to find something but coming up empty-handed. You shake your head in denial, shutting the drawer as your eyes find the framed-photo on the nightstand between the single beds once again.

"I wonder if they made it," you murmur staring at the two grinning kids, heart-aching at the thought of them being dead or on their own. "It could be possible but with how everything is and the current situation it isn't likely," he says as he gestures for you to follow him, and you do but slowly, wishing you could've helped the kids.

The two of you find Yunho and Yeosang bickering in the kitchen, the dust causing your nose to itch slightly, reminding you of your allergies. "What is the problem?" Hongjoong asks, voice cutting through their conversation, arms folding over his chest as he looks between the two questioningly.

"We haven't found anything, and Yunho is suggesting that we go to the house next door, the one that is bound to have undead inside," Yeosang replies, words having a bit of bite to them as he casts said male a look.

"We need supplies, Yeosang, we're running very low on them," Yunho snips, and Hongjoong sighs, quieting both men before they start bickering again. "You can send me," you suggest, just as the others join you four, and all four of them look at you like you have grown an extra head.

"Y/N," Hongjoong says, and you raise a brow in question, wondering what is wrong with the suggestion while Yunho gives the others a rundown of what you guys are talking about.

"What? Someone has to go in," you murmur, frowning at the blonde-haired male, while the others just watch.

"That doesn't mean it has to be you," Jongho pipes up, voice swimming with an emotion you cannot decipher, and you cast a look at the male; nearly flushing at the look in his eyes.

"One of us can do it," Yunho states and you groan, running a hand over your face as you meet his eyes.

"I want to do it, I don't wanna sit around and worry," you tell him, silence answers you and you somehow feel that you shouldn't have said that.

"And you want us to stay behind and worry?" Seonghwa asks, moving past the others, so that he now stands in front of you; and you huff not sure on what to say.

"Better me, than you."

#ateez #zombieau #supplies #runninglow #xreader #yn #ot8 #hongjoong #yunho #san #yeosang #jongho #seonghwa #wooyoung #mingi

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aves-arts · 10 months

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Persons of Interests Document

Heres something I've written based of the Zombie AU

//CW for some links to artwork with some blood in them

The last helicopter left the city at exactly 12:49 AM on the 10th of September. I don't know why she decided to stay. I asked her, I BEGGED her to go. Yet she stayed. Once she puts her foot down, she doesn't back down. She would remain with me even if it meant saying goodbye to her family.

First class tickets out of the city and into the safety of the military seemed like the best I could do for them. I figured they’d be safer outside than in the bunker right in the center of the city. That decision keeps me up at night. I wish I could tell myself that she doesnt know, but Jennifer is a lot smarter and observant than I ever gave her credit for. My only hope is the potential that they could’ve escaped and somehow made something for themselves out there. That's the only thing keeping their status as missing, and not deceased.

Jennifer’s ability to inspire people in desperate times shouldnt surprise me. People loved her, and they looked up to her for guidance and advice. When we started sending scavengers out, she shined as a leader. Amongst ex-soldiers, mercinaries, and former emergency services members, she won the pick for Chief of Security by a landslide. I know she is more than capable of handling herself, but I worry about her constantly. I guess I know what it was like to be in her shoes in the times before. Her status is alive. Should that change, I don't know if I'll be capable of documenting it.

Lucas’ fall into delusion was some of the hardest hitting of when we were still secluded from the outside. He had convinced himself that I had been too lenient, and that executing certain individuals who posed a threat would be beneficial to our isolated community. The fact that me killing him caused such a stir sent that theory to the grave along with him. Lucas’ status is deceased. It was the first life I had taken since the outbreak. I’ve killed many more people since, but it doesn't progress the community further. It just means less people that disagree with us and more blood on my hands.

Frances has been a great asset to the community as her pinpoint accuracy has saved many lives. The people and I owe her a great debt, but she shrugs it off as nothing. All she asks for in return is more ammunition. Oftentimes she acts as a scout in the city. Going in alone into the concrete jungle and bringing back important intel. In fact, she was the first one to encounter the Marshals. Current status is alive. One day I’ll find a way to repay her. Maybe I’ll look for her hat she lost a long time ago.

Some of our outer city manufacturers managed to find their way back. Whittaker kept his metalworkers alive long enough to make it to us from the radio signal we had sent out to our facilities. Not everyone made it back to us though. Cindy is currently missing at this time, but truth be told I don't think she couldn't have made it out there on her own.

As for Hawthorne? Its hard to say for certain but…

For a long time I was greatly concerned about Peyton or her gang managing to survive the outbreak, and launching an attack on us. As time passed the concern lessened, but I was always afraid that she would come to our gates and proceed to make this new life of mine a special kind of hell. That day never came, and Frances had become curious. Their compound was on the other side of the city, but that didn't seem to dissuade her. Frances’ report goes as follows:

“The place was abandoned, seemed like nobody had inhabited the place since the outbreak. Some kind of massacre took place. A bunch of skeletons were strewn about still wearing those stupid colored clothes Pb’s freaks liked to wear. I skulked around until I found her. A skeleton with its head detached lying in some command room. That faded purple jacket was unmistakable. No sign of Cat mask or that twitchy little shovel creep neither. Well, besides all the headless skeletons anyway.”

Pb, Peyton Beck, is deceased. I can sleep a little easier knowing that. Especially since I had nothing to do with it. Though, that still leaves Nelly and that big guy Jules uncertain. What are the odds they’re still out there? I don't like that uncertainty, but maybe without Peyton messing with their heads they can actually be reasoned with. Whatever the case may be…

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az-dreamy · 2 years

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There's two types of people.

#ZombieStory #modernAU #ZombieAU #Rick #Issé #bestfriends #morethanfriends #imagineyourotp #otp #boyfriend #digitalart #sketch #BlackGloves #omg Issé's face is so cute #they're both so cute #I love them #one day #they will be together #that's my otp

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clzombiewrites · 2 years

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Hello! I just posted Chapter 3 of my fanfic “Blood, sweat and tears - Mick Schumacher x Reader” on Wattpad. Hope you enjoy it!

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herbcerer · 1 year

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Brothers :)

#my art #zombieAU #the love i feel for these three is so much #they're so #the lovebirds

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berghanese · 2 years

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Zombie Apocalypse AU! My characters tragic backstory, the outbreak was announced as they were starting college. They managed to make it for a few months with their best friend. One evening they get ambushed by a horde and his friend barely makes it out, only to reveal that they were badly scraped by the undead. Certain that they would make it if he kept the wounds clean and kept looking for help, it just got worse, he just got weaker and weaker. One morning he wakes and sees their friend standing on the parking lot ledge where they spent the night, he tries to convince him that it would all be okay and that they'd just need to keep going but to no avail. 'see you in the next one' is the last words his friend says before he falls....

#blueaeternus #zombieau #zombieapocalypseau #zombieapocalypse #personaart #commissionsareopen #tumblrartist

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wombkiller · 1 month

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guys id love every single person who reads this so far <3 warning its a zombie au...

#project sekai #pjsk #pjsk fanfic #project sekai fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #zombieau #pjskzombieau #wombkiller #pleaseeee...

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mermarve · 3 months

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Time for my annual reread of All-Consuming by Ratbones: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165200

There are a lot of fic I return to, especially for Guardian, but this one takes the absolute cake, please go read it if you haven’t yet!!!

#Guardian #Weilan #Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan #ZombieAU!#Fic art #Fan art #Ratbones #Fic rec

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emmodii · 7 months

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27/09/2023, 2.42am

#this is just part 1. i'm trying to draw all the aus with them #wiiiith a few exceptions. like 2p cuz like. there's very low chance they'd be into each other. which is expected 'cuz it's literally an #opposite au anyway LOL... and then there are other AUs that are more vague or i have less ideas for or focus on other characters. hahaha.#i'll edit and link the second set whenever that's done pffft #nigel doyle #basile fernandez #humanAU nigel doyle #humanAU basile fernandez #zombieAU nigel doyle #zombieAU basile fernandez #ZAUbutHuman nigel doyle #ZAUbutHuman basile fernandez #actorAU nigel doyle #actorAU basile fernandez #collegeAU nigel doyle #collegeAU basile fernandez #robotAU nigel doyle #robotAU basile fernandez #HeroVillainSwap nigel doyle #HeroVillainSwap basile fernandez #royaltyAU nigel doyle #royaltyAU basile fernandez

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luveline · 8 months

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Hi Jade! If you feel up to it, could I request steve zombieau and perhaps while reader and steve are on the road maybe she takes care of him for once when he feels ill? Love this series so much ❤️

thank you for your request gorgeous!!! steve zombie!au. fem!reader, 1.3k

cw throwing up/ vomiting

Steve thinks you're awesome even when you piss him off, and you piss him off often (though if it's really your fault is up for debate). He likes your smile, your hands, the way you whisper when the sun goes down even if there's nobody around to hear you but him. He likes how you tie your shoelaces, how you cut open a can, hell, he even likes the way you breathe. Asleep at night, your snoring.

He's starting to think he likes everything about you. Which is confusing, because a couple of months ago he would wish from time to time that you never met. If he didn't know you, maybe he could leave you behind. If you weren't so endearing, right from the start, he could've left you at Hawkins High and biked across Indiana. He might've been able to catch up with Robin.

It only took a couple of days of knowing you to realise that wasn't a fair thing to think about. Plus, you saved his life. Steve was never going to leave you behind. So you're permanent, and you're awesome, and Steve hadn't realised until now that among those things, you're a good friend to him.

"Do you think you're done?" you're asking softly, crouched in a dusty room with him and paying no mind to the vomit puddle at your feet. "We can go sit somewhere else."

Steve fell to his knees unthinking when the first wave of nausea wracked him. It was the painful twist of guts that you're both nearly, horrifyingly, used to these days. Food poisoning.

He shakes his head, hands trembling, mouth hot. "Don't think so."

"You want me to get your drink out of your bag?"

"Waste. I'll just throw it back up."

"It'll make your throat feel better in the meantime."

You rub his shoulder through his coat, an action that should be useless but in actuality is quite comforting. Steve wonders if he'd have thought to rub your back if it were you throwing up.

Steve nods once, tight, hating that he needs things. You nod back and dig through your bag for your canteen. He wants to point out the lie, and argue that he'll waste his own water on feeling better and not yours, but the nausea rears and he has to curl his hand into something as he heaves.

His hair is just long enough to need holding out of his face. You stroke it away from his mouth and wait with him, seemingly unbothered by his vomiting. It gets on your shoes and you still don't care, you just hum sympathetically, carding hair behind his ears. "You should listen to yourself more often, Steve, you said those spaghetti shapes tasted weird."

"I thought maybe they tasted strange because I'm not five anymore," he says hoarsely.

You laugh and hug his shoulders. "Poor guy," you say near his ear, your fondness a warming thing as you press your face to the side of his head. You squeeze him gently. "Does this make you feel better at all, or am I making it worse?"

"Better." He closes his eyes, hands on his knees. "Definitely better."

You hug him for a while. Faces squished together, your arms around him. Eventually he puts a hand on your thigh and slumps into you like a loser.

You move him away from his gross throw up pool and insist on staying in a different room. Food poisoning is just one of those things you've had to learn to live with when things get tough, scraping by and risking it on an empty stomach. There truthfully isn't much for Steve to even expel but his body found it, and for the rest of the day he feels drained.

You dote. Steve is a little surprised, he must look especially pathetic or something. You don't tease him for being grumpy or look after him with any feigned begrudgement, you just do it. You gather cushions for him and sit him down on a single bed (he refuses to sleep it off). You take his shoes and wash them with your own, sitting beside him when you're done, the two of you in your socks. He could pretend you were friends hanging out after work like he and Robin used to do, pyjama movie nights that left popcorn crumbs in his bed for days after.

He misses her, then. More than he can explain. It sucks any energy he had left out of him. He lays back in bed and let's you take care of him for a bit.

Hours later, when it's dark, and you've made the executive decision to seal the house and stay the night, you lay beside him with your neck skewed funny against the wall, pulling his arm to your stomach. He gets this crazy feeling like butterflies in his stomach that he puts down to lingering nausea.

"You feeling any better?" you ask, your hand smoothing up and down his arm as you talk. You, your hand begins to fall. Feeling, it strokes gently over his pulse. Any, your hand lightens, fingertips tracing his skin. Better, they climb the hill of his arm. You clasp the crook of his elbow in your hand like another hug.

"I feel fine."

"You can try and eat some of the emergency jerky before we sleep, okay? It'll be easy to keep down, even if you have to ruin your teeth chewing it."

He brushed vigorously after throwing up. The jerky will taste like mint. It honestly doesn't even matter to him, so long as you keep stroking his arm. "In a bit," he agrees.

"Okay… I'm sorry you're sick, Steve."

"Why are you sorry?" he asks, surprised.

"It's not nice seeing you sick. Like, it's gross seeing someone else throw up, but I don't like seeing you all mopey and sad."

"Now you know how I feel." He turns his head to yours. "You always have something wrong with you."

You look away from him. Steve didn't say it to embarrass you, he just meant that seeing you unwell and hurting so often hurts him, because he cares about you. The point was that he cares.

He lifts his head to remove one of his pillows. "Here. You'll mess up your neck."

"You'd have to do all my looking for me," you say sheepishly, lifting your head like he had to accept the pillow.

"You'd have a bad neck," he says. He hopes you get it. The problem wouldn't be having to do things for you; taking care of you isn't something he thinks about anymore, it's just another thing he does to survive.

You seem to understand, closing your eyes, curling so your face is a little closer to his, his arm still very much in your grasp. Steve thinks fuck it, fuck thinking, he's sick and tired and maybe you've been his friend this whole time. He turns on his side and put his arm over your chest in a half-hug.

"Did you put a chair in front of the door?" he asks, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, I did. Are we sleeping?"

Steve presses his face into your shoulder in answer. A nap will do you both good.

(You sleep for sixteen hours, the best either of you have slept for weeks.)

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