The Virus

"Yeah, well... I did like your Mom, she was pretty cool. She hated me, though. I remember her saying I was bad for you, that I needed to learn my manners. That night I stayed over yours for dinner was pretty awkward, huh? Though it was my fault for tipping her wine everywhere. Still, I... am sorry about that, it must suck. My mom's probably dead too, she wouldn't survive this. She's too clumsy to survive something this serious," he admitted, offering it up in hopes of sharing the pain, even if it only made him realise his indifference. His mother hadn't really been brilliant, and he couldn't feel sad over her being dead when it wasn't confirmed. For all he knew, she could be alive and well, sipping a cocktail with a fancy businessman she had met who offered her protection in his mansion. It wouldn't surprise him, anyway.

"Hey, I have a buttload of tattoos, actually. I am adventurous, huh?" He grinned, proudly rolling his sleeves up to show his tattoos off. "I mean, I was bored and pretty drunk, but you only live once, don't you? I'll probably die soon, according to you. I'm so useless and reckless that I'll probably get mauled to death just standing outside-- have some damn faith. You're so cautious, it's laughable. Relax, chill. I can protect you from evil, bloodthirsty zombies with my eyes closed."​
 
Eyeing the tattoos curiously, he nearly shivered in pain. The idea of getting needles shoved into your arm over and over again was hardly appealing and, even if he wanted it now, he wasn't going to get them. He offered a somewhat forced smile at them nonetheless before moving to once again adjust the TV.

"I doubt that, really. It's better to be on the defense than offense. Needles violence is just that, you know? Besides, I imagine getting bullets is hard. Not only that, but if there's a zombie nearby and you fire off something loud, they'll rush over. Look, I don't know how long you plan to stay around- you'll probably just run off after you get tired of me, like you did before- but... I don't want to see you die because you were an idiot."
 
"I ain't going to run anywhere-- and i didn't purposely abandon you. It just sort of happened, Zack. Don't you think I regret it? The jocks in high school were so vapid, on reflection. All muscle, no personality. Was I really like that with them? False and a douchebag? Jeez... Look, if it helps, I'm not going to abandon you now. Besides, who would I run to?" He joked rambunctiously, leaning back with one arm behind his head and the other casually feeding Mars. He was wasting the food he was supposed to eat on his cat, sure, but she needed to eat just as much as he did, right? And, if he was going to be eventually succumb to the infection, fruit and normal food was pretty useless to him.

"Like I said, I'm going to protect you-- like I used to when we were kids. Remember when you almost fell out the treehouse that one time? I think that was when we had sex, the first time. That was great, by the way. Don't think I've ever told you that," he continued, mostly just to invoke a blush on Zack's face. Seeing him bashful and awkward was one of his favourite sights, and right now, it would bring a good deal of normalcy. Pretending everything was fine and dandy was idiotic, sure, but he needed just one minute of that. "Oi, where am I going to sleep? In your room? We could go head-to-toe, though I guess I'd take up most the room, huh?"​
 
His response to the whine memory was to shyly crawl further under the blankets, hiding the faint blush that he admittedly had. Unlike the other, Zack had regretted having sex when he realized only a year later that it would mean nothing to the other boy. With a quiet pause in contemplation, he peaked an eye out from the blanket.

"I, uh... I usually sleep out here, but I also have a guest room. I mostly just store supplies and stuff there, for trading..." he explained softly, before moving to point down the hall. "I have a few sleeping bags in there so..."
 
"I fully intend to sleep at least somewhat close to you. Safety in numbers and all that. If someone does manage to burst in, you'll want me near you with my gun, right? And Mars can give a zombie a pretty neat scratch when she wants, I'm sure. She's, like, ten years old with three legs and dodgy eyesight, but she's probably tougher than us both put together," smiled Logan as he pet the feline behind her ears, if only to earn the low rumbling purrs that did help relax him a great deal. Eyeing the boarded up windows and door wasn't the easiest feeling in the world, and it did make him feel more anxious than safe, and likewise, incredibly guilty.

Zack obviously had no idea he was locking himself in with someone who was infected, but Logan was naively optimistic that, even when he succumbed to the infection, he wouldn't lay a finger on someone who meant so much to him. Hell, sons and daughters had killed their parents, he knew that, but he was certain he would be the exception who could ignore any cravings and continue to live normally. Stupid? Yes. But he never had been one to realise the gravity of the situation.​
 
"You only want to sleep with me because you're a pervert," he easily replied, while pressing his cheek against his pillow wearily. "I'm not going to let you do that. I don't think I want to have sex ever again, period. I mean, I thought it was special, but I'm certain that you've had sex with other people."

Glancing at the kitschy cat clock above the wall, it showed the time was nearing 2 in the morning. On a normal night, he would be up all night in fear- hence why his bags were so thick. He saw this as an excuse to get a wink of shuteye
 
"I've had sex with other people, sure. I'm not going to lie about it, but it doesn't mean it meant much to me. I'm not going to confess my undying love, 'cause that shit is cheesy, but you're easily the only person I've ever loved. But hey, you don't care anymore, that's fine, it's definitely been awhile," he shrugged after a moment or two of biting the inside of his cheek. Seeing Zackarie again did bring back a range of emotions, but he also knew that he couldn't expect to wander in and be welcomed back with open arms. That said, he was desperate to build up some bond again before he began coughing up blood and get sick...

"You get some sleep. I don't really sleep anymore," he admitted as he shifted himself onto the other armchair, figuring the other wanted the space to himself. "...I'll be right here, anyway-- not to creepily watch you sleep. I mean, even f you think i'm an idiot, having me here is at least extra protection, y'know? So... hey, can I take a bath? You have running water, right?"​
 
"Yeah, and I stole some soap from the abandoned grocery store," he replied in a murmur, before letting out a sigh and tossing over a blanket from the pile. He didn't wander over and carefully drape it over him, but he thought that it was at least some form of kindness towards the other.

"Look, I still care about you. You were my best friend after all. I just... want you to really prove you're sorry. Saying it means nothing, hm? I could say 'I would love to have sex with a ravenous zombie'. I won't." He murmured, before returning to be fully encased in blankets.
 
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"I can prove it-- and I will, alright? I know exactly how to prove it," he smiled slowly, grabbing the blanket appreciatively, though only used it to wrap Mars up and ensure she was warm. He would gladly suffer in the cold, if it meant his cat could be wrapped up nice and warm. Setting the bundle amongst all the cushions happily, he neglected to say another word, if only to add to the illusion he had gone to sleep and therefore allow Zack to do the same... though the moment the unaffected boy fell asleep, Logan was on his feet and removing the board from the window to head out, just to save having to remove all the boards from the door and then leaving it unprotected.

Leaving the window only superficially protected could be considered idiotic-- but the apartment was on the third floor. He assumed that Zack was relatively safe even without the windows boarded up for protection. Sure, he might have been able to climb out the window and make his way into the apartment next to Zack's... but what were the chances of someone fully infected doing that? He knew from his many times fighting them that, while they could still communicate, the hunger tended to overshadow common sense and intelligent thought.

He would have liked to return before it became obvious that he had left, but he only managed to return hours later, by morning, scrambling in through the window and grinning triumphantly to himself as he set the board back up... only to anxiously peer over his shoulder at Zack when sensing he was awake.

"...Look, I wanted to walk under the moonlight. I'm a romantic," he drawled as casually as he could, reaching to hammer the nails back in before flopping down next to Mars and scooping her up. "I took a walk, alright? I know this place an hour away, this abandoned storehouse-- I thought there could be food there for you. You told me to prove how sorry I was, right? Check what's in the bag, I managed to get some of those chocolate bars you love~ Don't thank me, I already know I'm great~!"​
 
After Zack's first solid night's sleep in months, it wasn't surprising that he had woken up later than usual. More often than not, when he DID attempt at sleep, he'd go to bed at around three and wake up at five. It wasn't until he woke up from the sound of rustling that he rolled awake. He was beyond ready to panic while his eyes adjusted, immediately assuming it was a zombie, before grimacing at the sight of Logan creeping in through the open window. He wasn't a moron, and he knew that the other didn't board the window back up when leaving, plus for him to just casually climb the side of a building?! Now, if it weren't for his naturally soft voice, his sudden frustration might have actually been terrifying.

"... What the fuck, Logan?! H-How long have you been out? A few hours? All night?! " He scolded, his pale face reddening as he emerged from the blankets quickly. "You just let this window open all night? For a walk?!" He squeaked, while clenching his fists. Nonetheless, he did peak into the bag curiously, though he wouldn't really need food if he had gotten bitten.
 
"No zombie is going to scale the wall of the apartment building, would you chill out? I mean, I climbed into the apartment next door, went out that way. I'm not a zombie. They wouldn't think of that. All they care about is tearing out your brain, they won't think of using the neighbouring apartment, alright? Just... I wanted to get you some food. I know a few guys who helped me find the storage place, and I sneak some food from there. It's pretty hidden, still locked up, so food is pretty plentiful. Be glad, would you? I told you. I'm invincible, and I arrived back unscathed," he boasted proudly, resting back against the couch and tugging off his jacket, that of which was soaked by the rain during the night. Tugging off the t-shirt underneath to, he was far warmed cuddling up under the blanket topless than he was wearing sodden clothing, and he was always comfortable with his body, especially in front of someone who had seen him half-naked (and fully naked) plenty of times.

"This mean we're friends again? We can go check out that storage place together, if you wanted more food. I've got your back, Zackarie. No zombie is going to tear you apart when I'm near, and Mars will come with us too, for extra protection," he lightly teased, setting the cat down on his bare stomach and began to religiously pet her, as he did every morning. "You slept well, anyway. You don't look as exhausted as we did when I first saw 'ya."​
 
"Thanks." He replied flatly, while intentionally avoiding the other's gaze in hopes to hide his blush. After a solid few seconds of silence, Zack nervously coughed and wandered out of the room towards the kitchen, ready to heat up some soup with his stove, thanking his now deceased landlord for the gas stove, rather than an electric. Pouring the soup into a proper pan, he sat bag and tugged the hood of his far too oversized hood up, his foot twitching anxiously as he waited.

"... What are your plans today, eh? Are you going to run off into a crowd of zombies, a cigarette between your teeth, like in those video games you used to play? Or are you going to be reasonable and try and wait it out 'til night. Look at you- you're not even wearing dark clothes. Why the hell did you think it was safe to just wander out into the night without black clothing?" He murmured critically, before running his fingers through his messy locks, sniffling. "I'd over you clothes, but you're, like, abnormally huge for not eating that much.'
 
"I don't need dark clothing when I have my gun. You're really cautious, aren't you? You can't take all this seriously, I don't. I like thinking of it like a game, that's true. It makes it far more fun, don't 'ya think? So sure, I'll walk about in daylight and if zombies come running at me, I treat it like I'm in some movie. Let's face it, I could definitely fit the bill as the main hero. I'm pretty cool. You'd be the idiot that trips over thin air and gets torn apart," he remarked playfully, rifling in his bag to pull out on of the chocolate bars he had taken. It wasn't a great breakfast, granted, but his appetite was admittedly disappearing because of the infection. That was how it started, losing interest in normal food, but simply to keep up the facade that he was normal and healthy, he was going to force down the chocolate with faux hunger.

"Oi, it's called working out and keeping in shape, Zackarie. I work hard-- at least, I did before this zombie shit. I gave up visiting the gym when everyone there wanted to tear into my stomach. I dated my gym instructor, actually. Now he's dead. Had to shoot him, didn't I? Shame, that. He was really hot..."​
 
"I'm sure he was," replied Zack quickly, a frown making itself known at the mention of the trainer. After all, he really did see himself being with Logan forever, when they were younger. He shook off those thoughts quickly and got up to rummage through the cabinet in the bathroom, tugging out pills to help those rather intrusive thoughts. Not only did they help him cope with his anxiety, but they also kept him awake at night, and generally energized. Carrying the proper amount back to the kitchen, he hurriedly poured two bowls of soup, scoffing at the other's breakfast choice, before handing over the chicken noodle soup and using his own broth to help down the pills.

"The guy who gets torn into pieces? I dunno, Logan. For a guy like me- scrawny, easily sick, unfit- to be able to last this long while people who are far more capable than me are being bitten because they do just what you do. Look, I'm not going to force you to do anything, but I suggest you at least realize that my ideas are working. You're safe, right? And you've got the essentials? So, stop poking fun at me, hm?" He murmured, while sitting carefully on the floor in front of the TV, turning it on for his regular morning programs.
 
"I wasn't poking fun to be mean, I was having a joke around with you. In all truth, you'd be the guy that's sat in the background, quietly working out the solutions as everyone around him gets themselves stupidly killed. You'd be the guy that nobody really notices, but ends up the hero with the girl and the audience's sympathy, alright? I'd like to think I'd be the hero, but let's face it, I'm an idiot who rides his luck," he admitted, albeit with a wide grin as he gratefully accepted the soup. As much as his appetite was fading, he was only newly infected. The thought of tucking into a hot meal was still appealing, and so he did graciously tuck into the first hot meal he had had in a good month.

"We're a good team, eh? Brains, brawn and Mars," he grinned, wiping his mouth messily with the back of his bandaged hand. "Look, I won't run off into the night without you, I just figured you needed the sleep. We can go out later, though. There's nothing to be worried about, it's pretty quiet out there to be honest. Most zombies are smart enough to avoid guns. They ain't like zombies in movies. They still talk and stuff. I legit had a conversation with my old postman about parcels and shit until he tried attacking me. Hey, if i got turned, you'd still talk to me, right? Because I'd genuinely still care about you, even if you ravenously attacked me."​
 
"I mean, I don't really know how the whole 'zombie' thing works. I haven't encountered one yet, so I don't really know if they'd react well. I heard from Paul that they can't control their hunger, but why not? I would love to be able to go to the lab, find out how this whole thing can be helped. To be honest, the campus is probably totally derelict. Who knows? I mean, medical students are already like zombies, so they were probably gone really quick."

As he spoke, he took his time on the soup, unlike last night with the fruit. He offered the cat a few licks of the broth, admittedly always loving the feline, and running his fingers through her fur absently. How Logan kept her alive was a miracle, so he was willing to fully engross the cat in affection, wishing to be her briefly.
 
"As far as I know, because I'm a notorious zombie killer, they're pretty strong, feast on unaffected folk like us, can still communicate... but they aren't smart enough to know how to get in through the window, alright? I'll board it back up properly if you insist, but really, I think you're overthinking and worrying too much. I know what they're like-- you should come out with me later, y'know? We could research them for you," he suggested, his smiling expression indicative of his seriousness. It wasn't a big deal for him to head out onto the streets as though everything was normal. He had his gun, and he knew how to observe without putting himself in danger. Hell, he had trekked across the whole city at night for some chocolate bars without getting hurt. Sure, he was infected, but that hadn't been his fault.

"We could do that, it'd be fun! You can go out looking cute with your notebook, and I can take Mars for a nice bit of fresh air. She needs that. She can't walk, but she likes being in the sun, so hey, sounds like a plan," he confirmed without the others agreement, though once he had settled on something, he rarely changed his mind. "You trust me, don't you?"​
 
"Not really," he admitted, while sipping his soup slowly. "Like I said, the lab is probably compromised and we'll just get bit. Can't really find a cure if you're a brainless zombie, huh?" He murmured, a thin brow raised in disbelief at just how persistent the other was to get him outside.

"For fuck's sake, Logan. We don't need to go out there, there's no point. If... If you really want Mars to have sun, you can keep the window open for awhile and let her lay on the edge. I'll wrap her in a blanket so she won't fall. I really don't see why you want me to go outside so badly. I'm safe in here, and that's what matters," he scolded, before opening his arms to the things collected. "It's not like I don't go out every now and then. How do you think I can get this stuff? I trade, sure, but I mostly collect this all from the street. Look, if you really want me out, we can go tonight. Zombies need to sleep, too, right?"
 
"You know, so you can research them, so I can feel normal and not feel confined. I hate that, alright? I'd rather feel like everything was normal, that I can pop outside whenever I wanted-- you're such a chicken, aren't you? Where's your sense of adventure? It'd be fun, I think. You're just scared some zombie's gonna bite you, aren't you? I won't let that happen, doofus," he promised from the couch, wrapping a spare blanket around his bare shoulders once he began to feel the cold, all while fixing his gaze on his former friend. "I mean, I get you don't like me much, but this'll be fun. You could either stay huddled in this apartment and die of boredom, or head on out with Mars and I, gather supplies, and get some research. Hey, you know a bunch of kids from high school are probably infected, right? Would shooting them in the head cheer you up? You're so dull sometimes."​
 
"If I wanted to shoot the people I didn't like in high school, I would have shot you the moment I saw you through my peephole," he admitted flatly, before getting to his feet to toss the empty can in the sink. "I'm not a violent person, Logan, unlike you. I have no intentions of shooting any of my former classmates- though, if someone else does, I won't say anything. Understood?"

Now finishing with his somewhat unnerving admission, he leaned against his kitchen sink to curiously watch the other, his brow raised as he wore a bitter frown.

"Look, I'll come with you, I don't understand why you're so persistent I work on a cure or whatever. I mean, wouldn't it stop your 'The Walking Dead' fantasies? I mean, you did watch them a lot, after all."
 
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