Dave x John Zombiestuck RP - Pt. 4

John's eyes were wide with worry and only grew wider with Dave's exclamation and suddenly getting out of the van. He unbuckled his seat belt quickly, tugging his door open just as fast, and climbed out onto the cool grass carefully, wincing a bit as his ankle was forced to support him again.

John hobbled around the front of the van, trying to ignore the spurts of pain going up his leg.

"Dave?" he called quietly, unsure if there were dead around to hear them. "Are you okay?"

That was when he noticed the wetness on Dave's face.

Dave... Dave was crying. John felt his heart leap to his mouth as a surge of empathy overtook him.

'I'm a ticking time-bomb.' The words hung in John's mind as a memory for a moment and then stayed there, imprinted on his vision.

This must be the explosion.

To be honest, he wasn't really sure what to do; anything he could think of either seemed like something that would make Dave uncomfortable or simply wouldn't help the situation.

In the end, he decided to throw caution into the wind and go with what his gut, or rather, his heart was telling him to do, as cheesy as that sounded in his head.

John walked slowly over to Dave, arms hanging at his sides. Dave was still pacing, still crying, still not in control. It was evident to him that Dave was not going to stay still for very long on his own. John reached out quickly and grabbed his arm, tugging him and drawing him closer to his own person before wrapping his two thin arms underneath of Dave's in a hug.

He honestly was not sure how Dave would react to this. As far as he could tell, Dave didn't like being forced to do anything, but maybe this really was what he needed at the moment.

John took one of his hands up behind Dave's back and reached for his blonde hair, running a hand through it softly and making soft 'shh' sounds. This was what Jade had done for him when he had broken down before... Maybe it worked as well for others as it did for him.

"Dave... Listen, it's okay... it's all fine, just let it all out, okay?" he murmured, closing his eyes and pressing his face to Dave's upper chest and neck. His other arm was still wrapped tightly around his companion's middle.

Any thoughts of the pain radiating from his ankle were temporarily forgotten. This was far more important.




Dave was shocked to feel arms around him, holding him still. He wanted to keep pacing, keep crying and yelling until he was exhausted and limp on the ground with no where to go. But he was being held grounded. His first instinct was to bash the thing's head in, because it might be a zombie.

But he recognized the long fingers that traveled his back and settled in his hair. He recognized the gentle voice in his ear. It was the voice that had earlier been singing to him, and it was the voice of the person that he trusted more than anything right now.

He gave in, tucking his head in against John's hair, his own arms finding their way around his shoulders. Fingers gripped into the shorter boy's clothes to hold him close and keep him there as an anchor.

His chest still heaved sobs, and his whole being was shivering with chills, something that John's body was warming up. A string of "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," came from his lips until they died off into nothing, and his mind began to finally calm down.




For the few seconds that Dave hadn't reacted, John had been panicking. Was the really not okay? Was he going to get lectured or shouted at?

But then he felt shaking arms wind themselves around him, a face press into his hair as the sobbing continued.

John smiled softly, sadly continuing his shooshing and attempt at being soothing. It must have been working to at least some degree; he could feel Dave calming slowly, sobs starting to ebb away.

As soon as he seemed to be almost back to normal, John tilted his head up to look on Dave's face. The other boy's eyes were still closed, for once not hidden behind black, impenetrable glass. Dave looked so much more... human this way. He wasn't just a machine, a thing programmed to kill zombies and survive. Dave was human, no matter how much he wanted to hide that.

From whom, John wasn't sure, but he had a hunch that it was more for Dave himself than anyone else.

"It's okay, Dave," John said. "You don't have to go through things like this alone, you know. I'm here for you."




He still shuddered, still missed his brother, and still hated everything that was happening to him. But he listened to John's words, and he had to convince himself that it wasn't weak to care for him, or to stay with him. For the benefit of both of them.

"Thanks..." he finally muttered. He parted from John's body, keeping his head down and his eyes half-lidded so that they'd stay hidden. As his arms began dropping from John's body, one rested on the back of his neck, pulling him in. He pressed his lips to John's forehead and took in a slow breath through his nose. There was a sense of peace in him now.

When he stepped away he said, "Thank you," a bit more strongly. He opened the van door, put his shades back on his face after rubbing more tears away, then faced John again while leaning back against the side of the van. "We should sleep... or something. I promise to do shifts tonight."




"What are friends for?" was John's reply, the apples of his cheeks pink. That's what they were, right? Hugging while crying and a kiss to the forehead didn't seem like something that just companions did.

Then again, it didn't seem like something friends did all the time either, but how was he to know? He hadn't had a friend besides Jade in years.

He nodded in agreement, holding back a yawn and walking to open his door of the van.

"I can take the first shift this time, Dave, you have to be tired from driving." The emotional strain was only subtext as he grabbed the apple juice and jerky from the floor and held them up. "You can have these to eat too, I picked them up from the last house." John grinned, waving the food items proudly.

He wished he could have nicked the strawberries too, but they would go bad sitting out in warm air. And staying in that house had not been an option.




Dave laughed dryly at the apple juice. He hadn't had this shit in years, and it was only adding to the emotional turmoil that was grinding inside of him at the moment. He didn't drink it yet, just quietly thanked John and ushered them both back into the van.

He put down the backseats, opening up the entire back of the vehicle, and laid out the only blanket they had after removing his boots and his hoodie. It was like a little cave for them. Dave sat back against one of the walls inside the van—making sure the vehicle was locked—and only then began chewing on the beef jerky.

"You should eat too," he said. "After the rain, it's going to be a really cold night. Digesting food while you sleep will keep your body warmer." He kept eyeing that apple juice. Fuck, he couldn't wait.




John nodded, grabbing some beef jerky and positioning himself so his feet hung out of the back of the van, and most importantly he had a good view of the scenery around them. He doubted any zombies would make it past the trees, but better safe than sorry and having to shoot Dave or have Dave shoot him.

He thought the former was probably worse right now. How would Dave react to having to shoot him right after his moment of break down? John realized with a pang that he probably wasn't as important to Dave as his brother had been, so it wouldn't be quite as bad, but it still made his insides churn at the thought.

He took a bite, forcing his throat not to close up from negativity and munched on it quietly, staring up at the sky. The first stars were just starting to come out. Soon sight wouldn't be helpful any longer. When that happened he would pull his feet in, but for now the cold air felt good on his injury.

John took a deep breath in, for once smelling trees and grass, the sweet smell of wind tinted by the cool scent that stays after rain. It was nice to smell something natural, for once not tainted by the smell of blood and decomposition that plagued everywhere else.
John took another bite of his jerky and smiled. He knew he shouldn't get used to this; peace never lasted long. But that didn't stop his brain from starting to hope that everything would be fine.

"Sweet dreams, Dave," he said, still looking up at the sky. "I'll wake you when time's up."




When Dave ate, he ate slowly. He was distracted. He stared at John's back as the other boy dangled his feet and stared at the outside world. He wondered what it was like, travelling with a loving father and sister for so long, not being terrified to even close your eyes for a few seconds.

"Just close the back of the van," Dave mumbled, feeling the tiredness creep up on him. "Don't need zombies snatching you up."

He slipped his shades off and laid down, pulling part of the blanket up and over him. He had never had more than a few hours of sleep in a row before. His body was too scared to sleep too long, so he was always restless, tossing and turning in a half-awake state.

Quietly, he finally drank that apple juice. It was warm as it ran down his throat, but it was relaxing. He capped it, sprawled his body out, and let out a long sigh.

"'Night..." he breathed out before sleep finally nabbed him.



John sighed, pulling his legs in slowly, drawing out the process as long as possible before closing the doors with a soft click. Dave looked like he was already asleep, shades off and hair in his face as breath came out evenly, and John didn't want to wake him up. He wasn't sure how many hours in a row Dave had been up, but no matter what the number was, it couldn't be good for him.

If he treated his body like that all the time, sooner or later, he would be a zombie. Not a literal one of course (hopefully) but Dave would move just as slowly as one unless he took care of himself more.

John silently made a pledge to himself to make that happen. He wouldn't let Dave sleep the whole night away without waking him... He knew he'd been panicked when he'd woken up feeling well rested, and since Dave had been asleep when his brother had been bitten it didn't seem like his friend would exactly be on the best of terms with getting some shut eye.

An extra hour or two couldn't hurt though, could it? Dave didn't need to know; it would be too dark to tell the extra time had elapsed anyway.

John smiled, not daring to touch Dave or even brush a stray lock of hair out of his face for fear of waking him and climbed up on top of where the passenger seat was pulled down. He had a lot of time to wait, looking up at the sky would be nice enough for a few hours.




Knowing John was keeping an eye on him subconsciously, Dave was allowed to sleep deeper than ever. His mind wasn't scared, and it threw him into elaborate dreams as his body regained strength and healed itself. Even while sleeping, he was already feeling well rested. The meal and apple juice sitting in his stomach only helped.

He heard noises in his dreams later. Noises like growling and groaning. This wasn't in the real world though. Because he heard his brother's voice, yelling in effort as he tried to keep the undead away. Dave had to wake up and help him. He had to save him this time. He couldn't sleep through it, he couldn't let him die, he couldn't lose him—

Dave gasped loudly, eyes splitting wide open. He stared at the ceiling of the dark van, chest heaving for breath while his nails dug into the van floor below him.

"Fuck," he whispered.




John had been on duty for four hours now, finding entertainment raiding the glove compartment of the van. He'd found some keys (probably to something back at the house) a pack of gum, and a note saying to get milk and a wrench.

Why people kept wrenches in the glove box, he would never know for sure, but it would be a nice weapon to keep handy.

That was when Dave had shot awake.

John turned around, snapping his neck a bit from the force of it. He winced, rubbing his hand along where the pain had suddenly spread for only a small moment before turning back to Dave.

"Dave, what's wrong?" John whispered, tone urgent, crawling back over the folded seat he was sitting on top of and knelt next to Dave. His eyebrows were knitted in concern, blue eyes wide in the dark.




He panted to relax, closing his eyes when John leaned over him. Then he realized that John had already seen him break down, had seen him when he was cold, had seen him when he was happy, and now was seeing what his inner demons caused.

Seeing the rest of him didn't matter anymore as Dave opened his red eyes, looking back up at John. His breath came out more calmly as he rested a hand on the other's leg.

"I'm fine," he assured him softly. "Just lie down by me for a bit, please."




John sucked in a breath at the bright red that met his own blue eyes. That was what Dave had been hiding behind his ever-present shades? Why?

He couldn't help but stare, looking at every tint of color in them, how the red was brighter, almost turning orange towards the edges and the curve that suddenly let crimson turn to black in the center.

There were a lot of words that came to mind at this point to describe them; amazing, bright, beautiful, cool... He turned all of them over in his head for a moment before realizing that it could all be summarized in one syllable. Dave.

It sounded cheesy as heck in his head, but cheesy things, he supposed, were often considered cheesy because they were true enough to be used often.

A grin spread on his face accompanied by a giggle as he laid down, facing Dave and lying on his arm so he could keep looking.

"Why do you have to wear sunglasses? Your eyes are very Dave. You should show them off!" John reached out and finally got that strand of blonde hair that had been bugging him for the longest time out of Dave's face and tucked it back with the rest of the blonde locks.

Dave, he decided, would henceforth be a genuine descriptive word. It worked with a lot of things.




Dave waited just for a while, seeing how John reacted to his eyes. The giggle that came out of him was relaxing, and Dave's tense muscles let go. He turned on his own side when John laid down, facing him and blinking tiredly.

"I don't," he mumbled. "Kind of a Strider thing. That's, uh, my last name by the way. My brother used to say they were ironic. And he wore a pair. Guess it makes me feel like him. Also, when I was little in elementary school, a few teachers would hit me and treat me badly because they thought I was the offspring of Satan or some weird shit like that."

He sighed, but his lip twitched in one of those tiny smiles again, seeing John's eyes so much brighter without the shades. He couldn't help it as he draped an arm over John's waist, resting it there casually.

"I also wear them so that anyone in the world won't see that I'm scared sometimes," he whispered as his eyes fall closed again. "Go to sleep now... It's my shift."




John felt himself blushing, warmth crawling pleasantly up his neck and into his cheeks as he laid next to Dave. The arm on his waist felt nice... It was more comforting than it probably should have been to him.

A small squeaky yawn forced itself out of his mouth and he nodded sleepily. He was happy. Dave was trusting him more, letting him in on things. He hadn't even realized that he didn't have Dave's full name until he'd said it, but Strider seemed like a fitting one for him.

"Oh deary me, I've been travelling with a man of whose last name I hadn't even learnt!" he said teasingly, giggling sleepily. "What will my parents say when they find out! What a scandal!"

John yawned again, closing his eyes. He nuzzled closer to Dave subconsciously.

"Your brother sounds like he was fun... I wish I could have met him. And those teachers. Maybe we'll meet them along the way and you can get the pleasure of stabbing them," he felt himself on the edge of consciousness, still barely there.

"My last name is Egbert, by the way. John Egbert." He almost forgot to take off his glasses, only remembering at the last second to slip them off of his nose and fold them neatly next to his head on the van floor.

"Make sure to wake me up for my next shift, ‘kay Dave?"




Dave just kind of smiled at John's random jokes and little ranting. He was odd, but it was cute. Cute? Yeah, cute. He was cute, and his eyes were cute, and his nose was cute, his giggles were cute.

He watched John's eyes close, staring at his peaceful face for a while. When the other's breathing evened out with sleep, Dave leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead, but softer than before. He hoped he wouldn't get addicted to doing that.

His shift was mostly quiet. There was only one disturbance, when he heard some zombie groaning lightly and slowly walking by the van. He held his katana in his hand while it passed, moving even closer to John for protection. But if left, and the two of them were alone again.

He was content to let his mind wander, lulled by John's breaths. When a few hours passed, he closed his eyes, his forehead pressed into John's shoulder as he nudged the other awake. He didn't say anything about a shift change. He was too tired, and he was out like a light.




John was awoken by the sun peeking into the van through the front windows, and the sound of nails against metal. Immediately he was awake, sitting up so quickly he was surprised that he hadn't given himself whiplash. Ears more alert now, he could tell the noise was coming from the passenger side door.

He crawled up from where he was lying, checking that Dave was okay beforehand. He looked fine aside from a small crease in between his eyebrows. He would wake up soon, John was sure.

Cautiously, John made his way over to the door and peeked out the window out at whatever was scratching at the door, hoping it wouldn't pose too much of a threat.
The sight that met him sent a cold chill all the way through him.

The zombie outside was missing an eye, her nose was bent out of shape, and crusted with blood in the center where a pair of cracked circular glasses were rubbing the skin raw. Black, matted long hair was tangling down her back, covering some of an all too familiar black sweatshirt.

John felt himself begin to shake.

Jade.

This was Jade.

He smacked a hand over his mouth to keep from retching, tears springing to his eyes.

No, that couldn't be Jade, she promised to be okay. Jade promised.

One more look proved his feeble attempt at self-foolery wrong. That was definitely his sister. A twisted, mauled, beaten and made into a killing machine.

John's stomach twisted and he pressed a hand to the glass of the window, fist clenched in the other as he peered at her.

That was when she spotted him. Well... smelled him. He saw her nose twitch before her head raised to the glass. Their eyes locked. One green meeting blue, and for a moment, John thought he could see her in there, locked behind a mask.

Then she shrieked.

In a flash she was pounding on the glass, rattling the very van with the force of it and sending little spiderwebs of cracks across the surface of the window.

John couldn't move, eyes wide and spilling over.

All he could see were Jade's teeth; her canines had always been larger than they should have been, and now that was more prominent than ever. She had other teeth missing, rotting gums dripping with blood and brain matter sticking in some of her molars. Her eye was ferocious, but it was the recognition that scared John the most.

She had been following his trail, that was the only explanation as to how she'd gotten this far out without reason.

John realized with another squeeze to his stomach, that she had in fact kept part of her promise.

She had come back to him.




Dave was awake in half a second at the screech. Even if John was making him a bit more relaxed and softer, his instincts were still hard-wired, and his hand was around his katana in the same second it took for him to wake up.

He saw John. Shaking, pale, full of tears, and he didn't think he had ever seen John look more terrified in that moment right there.

There was a zombie outside of the van. Eye missing, hair a long and black mess, just as dark as John's. She was smearing blood across the door with every pound and scratch she made.

Dave agreed zombies were freaky and scary, but he was confused momentarily as to why John was so frightened and broken over this.

Didn't matter. He had to protect John.

He crawled over, pressing his chest into John's back in front of the window, wrapping one arm around his waist. "Open the window," he demanded. He had to kill that thing before it broke the window completely, and there was no way he was letting the glass protection of this vehicle break.

Realization hit him like a bat to the jaw as his own wide eyes looked back and forth from John to the zombie. No way. "Shit..."




John gasped, flinching grandly upon feeling Dave's arm wrap around him. He heard the order to open the window, but didn't react at first, still only able to stare and try to let it sink in that the hope he'd held onto blindly really was gone. Jade was one of them. She... she had been all he had left; she had been his family.

He hadn't saved her either, just like Dad, it was his fault.

She was going to kill them.

At that thought, something flicked on in John's mind. Jade... she wouldn't have wanted to end up like this. Gnashing teeth and banging hands that were coated in blood from scratching roughly at the metal outside the door and cracking the glass were enough proof of that.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see any more of what she had become; this wasn't his Jade, his Jade was long gone, or rather, trapped in a body she couldn't control anymore.

"Do it," he whispered shakily to Dave, reaching for the manual crank to open the window.

John took a deep breath, steeling himself as tears fell down his cheeks. He whispered a small apology to the zombie outside that he used to love and began to roll down the cracking glass.





For a while, Dave didn't think John was going to respond. He had no idea what he was feeling, but he knew it was so horrible that not even Dave would want to have that pain. A sick feeling rose in his gut, because he knew he was going to have to kill this poor girl. He was going to have to kill John's sister.

John's hand cranked down the window. Dave's hand was shaking, because this kill wasn't like other kills. This kill was like when he had a gun to his own brother's forehead.

The girl's hand crushed in through the crack first, and Dave moved forward to grab it, pinning it. This made her angry, but her mental capacity just told her to try and stick the rest of her head in the crack as if it were actually big enough for her.

Dave heard nothing for a bit except for the rush of blood pumping through his ears. He prayed John wasn't looking. He raised his blade and stabbed it forward fluidly. There were only a few soft crunching sounds as it entered the girl's forehead, then popped out the back of her skull. He watched what was left of her life drain out of her eyes.

When she stopped making noise, he let out the breath he had been holding and pulled his sword back in slowly. Her body collapsed to the ground when his weapon was inside safely.

He was going to be sick. He suspected John was more sick. And he looked down at him, fearing the worst.




John had watched. In the end, he hadn't been strong enough to look away. The tears still rolling over his cheeks went unnoticed as he shivered, fingers quaking uncontrollably under the strain of what he'd witnessed.

His eyes stayed wide, focused on the place outside where Jade's corpse had been suspended on Dave's sword not a minute earlier. Everything was quiet now. No more groaning or shrieks, no more scratching and pounding except in his own head, echoing what had just come to pass eerily.

"You were right, Dave," John said finally, voice barely a whisper, eyes still focused on nothing. The flatness of his own voice scared him.

"People can't keep promises over death."




Dave didn't know what to do, what to say. He was at a loss of words, and a loss of thoughts. He glanced out the window once, saw her body down there, then looked down at John again. Even though John's voice had been dead, there was so much terror and pain in his eyes.

When enough time had passed, Dave put down his sword and climbed out of the van on the other side, walking slowly around the vehicle with his gun out, just in case Jade hadn't been the only undead stalking around. Then he stood over her body. Aside from the decaying effect that turning did to a person, he could tell that she used to be really pretty, and she had the same cute nose as John.

This was probably the first time he looked at these creatures in a different way. That behind those drooling killers, there used to be a person who was loved by many people.

He knelt down and carefully turned her over onto her back, brushing bangs from her face. He plucked off her round glasses, tucking them in his pocket, and then slipped her jacket off to lie it over her face in a respectful manner. He knew no prayers, but he spoke aloud to himself, not caring if John heard, and asked for her to keep watch over them and keep her brother safe.

When he climbed into the driver's seat of the van, he didn't speak. He put his shades back on, hoping he could hide everything rushing around in his mind. He started the engine up and laid the glasses on the van floor near John for him, ran a hand back through his hair, and then pressed his foot on the gas, leaving behind yet another death and a horrible scene.

He just knew he had to get out of there. For both their sake's.