Dave x John Zombiestuck RP - Pt. 8

"Don't say over, this isn't CSI," Dave mumbled into the walkie-talking at one point. To show him he was kidding he ended it with an, "over" though.

Then he was waiting again, counting to himself. Hearing John's voice every two minutes was really relaxing. They would be fine, he had to keep reminding himself.

Then he counted two minutes and heard nothing. He counted thirty seconds. Heard nothing. He gulped and picked up the little radio to his mouth. "John?" He waited. His heartbeat quickened. "John, fucking answer."

Nothing. He started to stand up. Before he left, there was the reply though, saying everything was all right. He sighed in relief. God, that had scared him...

For now all he could do was wait again for John to come and get him. He knew it hadn't been that long, but he wanted nothing more than to just hold that boy in his arms right now.




John drove back to the Wal-Mart, parking out front as inconspicuously as he could before getting out and walking back in. He was careful about the broken glass with his foot in the brace, hoping no shards would get stuck in it.

He held his walkie-talkie up to his lips and spoke quietly.

"Coming back in now, get ready to go. We need to make this fast; I had to fire the pistol earlier so there may be undead around."

He put the radio into his pocket and walked at a quick pace back towards Dave's hiding spot.




As soon as Dave got the message, he replied with a simple okay and got their stuff together, doing his best to carry it on his back with one arm, his katana back in its sheath. God, life was going to be difficult for a while.

The front doors weren't far, and he traveled to them instead of waiting where he was supposed to. His feet stumbled some, still drowsy from old blood loss and meds, but he focused on the trek in front of him.

When he saw John, he ended up dropping his things and just pulling him in against him for a short minute. "Thanks for being careful," he muttered, giving his neck a kiss.




John was giving Dave his best disapproving look for moving before he'd gotten to him, but that was forced away at the kiss to the neck. John winced, trying to hold back the small sound of pain from that tiny pressure on sensitive skin.

Yup. It was definitely going to bruise later.

John tried to act like the sound hadn't happened, muttering a small 'you're welcome' and picking up the bags from the floor so that Dave wouldn't have to as he turned to head out towards the car.




Ever since the zombie bite incident, Dave had noticed John's change of attitude. For being the usual cold one, this worried him. John's confident attitude usually got him through everything.

Then he remembered that his sister just died, they jumped off a bridge, and he just had to slice Dave's arm off right after almost having to kill him.

When then went out to the car, he looked at John more sadly. He knew John would force him in the passenger's seat, so he got in there without arguing, sitting quietly and lying his head back as the tiredness got to him again. When John was in the car, he glanced over at him again.

He wanted to say he loved him. Wanted to reach over and touch him. To lean in and kiss him. But he stayed where he was and held his shoulder, eyes dropping closed.

"Map's in my backpack," is what he decided to say. "Road's highlighted."





John nodded, grabbing the map from Dave's bag and looking it over. He hoped he was looking at it correctly. Once he got a fair idea and the scheme of things, he set the map down out of his line of vision and set his sights on the road ahead instead.

"Dave, I may need you to stay awake," he said softly, wishing he could let him sleep. "I mean, since you've been here before. I have no idea if I'll even be going in the right direction, so when you see something familiar, just say the word."

John gripped the steering wheel with one hand, and the other ghosted around his neck, trying to rub the soreness away without being to conspicuous.

He decided to distract his hovering hand, moving it over to Dave's hand that was sitting in his lap and squeezing his fingers like Dave had done for him in the van so many times.
It felt strange to be in the driver's seat, to be the one commanding everything, but... he was too far along to change anything now. He needed to be... he needed to be strong enough for both of them, and if that meant bottling up emotions, he would do it.

He wondered vaguely if this was him trying to make up for cutting off Dave's arm for selfish reasons. He smiled guiltily. Maybe that was it.




Dave sighed at the request to stay awake, but he nodded anyway and forced himself to sit up taller, getting ready for the ride ahead. It was only an hour or two out of the city.

He glanced at the map, and then looked around the street to figure out where they were. "Take a right up ahead. Then just go straight until you hit a country road. Rose's house is pretty isolated."

He looked down, rubbing his thumb over John's smooth hand like he enjoyed to do. The touch was soft and nice, something subtle to calm his nervousness. It even distracted him from the pain in his arm for a bit.

To try and lighten the mood he cleared his throat and spoke up, "Do you think my arm turned into a zombie and is dragging itself around Wal-Mart? ... I bet its shopping for bracelets..."




John cracked a small smile, the image of Dave's hand going around in search of fancy bracelets in the jewelry section filling his mind while he drove. At least now he knew humor wouldn't be off limits about Dave's arm. He had wondered what he would do for jokes if they came to mind in the future.

"Your hand would do that, wouldn't it, Dave?" he asked sarcastically, laughing a bit.
"I bet it would be nice to have around for hand jobs too, kind of an out of body experience, you know?" he said as an after thought, not really thinking about just how fucked up that was until it was out of his mind and hanging in the air.

Only then did a flush of embarrassment coat his face. He kept his mouth clamped shut, not bothering to defend himself. It was already said, Dave knew he'd thought of it. There was no point in taking it back.




Dave simply laughed at that. They were teenagers, of course they were going to make stupid hand job jokes. He laid back comfortably after, still with a small smile. It kept the pain away.

He liked the silence too. He really liked just being alone in a vehicle with John. Or anywhere with John. He's never been so calm or okay with someone since Bro. He closed his eyes for a while, letting himself doze off, but came back later to look at where they were.

"'Bout three more miles. Then take a right into the forest. The road leads right to her place. Should only take an hour," he instructed.

Since that was all he really needed for directions, Dave used his one hand to reach back and find more medication in their bags. He popped some pills and then settled down, resting his head on John's arm. He dozed off into a half-sleep pretty quickly.




John nodded, trying to focus on the road ahead instead of Dave's head on his shoulder, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as time passed. Finally, he settled his nerves by leaning over and planting a small kiss on the top of Dave's head. That would do for now.

Dave had been right about one thing; this place was really remote. He hadn't seen a zombie since the city, and it was becoming increasingly less likely the further they got away from it. The undead must have just never traveled out here, and the ones that had had probably starved to death.

The hour passed quickly, and soon enough a large white house reminding him of his old one, with a crypt outside became visible. He nudged Dave's shoulder gently.

"Dave, I think we're here. I assume there aren't many houses out this far, so this is the place, isn't it?"




Dave made a little hum when he woken up, lifting his head. It was weird seeing Rose's home after so long. It looked the same except that the grass around it was pretty long, and the house seemed dark and quiet.

"Yeah, this is it," Dave murmured quietly. He looked at John, then did a double take. His neck had bruised badly by now, and Dave reached out, gently touching the differently colored skin. "You told me everything was fine..."

John was alive, yes, but that didn't excuse that he had lied to Dave. He had been worrying his ass off inside of the store, and here John was, having been almost choked to death by a zombie.

"You lied to me."




John parked the car but stayed stiffly seated where he was, listening to Dave.

"... It wasn't anything for you to worry about. I didn't want you moving and over exerting yourself over something that I could handle..." he said.

He refused to feel guilty over something like this. John touched his neck gingerly again, marveling at how much soreness could be packed into a few bruises.

It had been a little white lie, nothing more.




"Doesn't matter if you handled it well. I would have liked to know." He took his hand from John's neck and got out of the car with no other words, grabbing one of the bags from the back and heading up the yard towards the front door.

John was kind of right though. Dave had already been a worrying mess, while at the same time not having a whole lot of blood, and slightly drugged on medication. More worry could have hurt him. He didn't know why he was angry. Maybe a missing damn arm was just a lot of shit to deal with, and he was taking it out on John.

His own guilt settled in his gut as he shook the door handle, seeing that the small mansion was unlocked. He stepped inside, all the lights off, and called out warily, "Rose...? Mom? Yo, it's David, I know I'm a little late for Christmas, but I had to take a detour due to some undead."




John decided not to defend himself anymore on the strangulation matter. Dave and he probably wouldn't see eye to eye on that for a while, if at all, and he would just have to accept that.

So, John stepped up behind Dave, head down until he had something better to look at than the ground.

He turned his attention to the blackness of the room before them.  "Dave... I don't like this. Are you sure they're still here?" he asked in a hushed tone. It hadn't looked like any zombies had gotten here on the road, but who could be sure anymore?

John took another step inside, rummaging through Dave's bag for the lantern and matches. Maybe they could use those. Why he hadn't thought to pick up flashlights was beyond him, but in his defense, he'd had a lot to think about.




"Wait," he said while John was doing his rummaging. He moved his hand along the wall until his fingers flicked a light switch up.

The house seemed to flood with the light. Or at least the main room. It had been a long time since he had seen a light switch work like this, but he wasn't surprised that the Lalondes packed the most awesome house someone could have.

"Leave our stuff down here. Come on, we're going to check the house. Bring the gun. In case, they've... you know, turned." He hated to say it. It sickened him. After all this travelling, maybe the last of his family was growling and dripping flesh, right in this home.

With a slightly nervous gulp, he started forward, ready to check every single room.




John followed Dave after setting down their things, switching on light switches as they went so that Dave wouldn't have to. Dave's pistol was clasped in his hand tightly, ready to be fired if necessary.

"Rose?" he called. He'd heard Dave use that name, and he assumed that was his cousin. "Are you here?"

He and Dave checked three rooms on the bottom floor. John wished they could split up, search the house separately, but one, he doubted Dave would let him go off on his own again, and two, he had no idea how to get around in his house.

The former was more of an issue; he could probably figure his way about the rooms eventually, but still.

There also may have been the worry of leaving Dave alone. He only had his katana, and was probably still pretty unwell. Leaving him unprotected did not sound smart.

John looped his fingers around the sleeve of Dave's shirt subconsciously, getting that much closer.




After clearing a floor with no hope, Dave headed back to the main room, ushering John along. "Part of her mom's weird science lab is in the basement. Maybe they heard us coming and hid, I don't know."

The door to the lab was locked with a keypad, but Dave somehow remembered it from when he was a kid. The lock slid open and he stepped inside. The light downstairs was already on, and he held his katana at the ready, just in case. He could see a few beakers of fluid either spilt or broken on the floor and on counters, and he saw a small trail of dried blood in the cracks of the white tiled floor.

He reached the bottom of the stairs first, and his eyes followed the trail to her body. His aunt's body, but everyone called her Mom, and that didn't really fucking matter, 'cause she was lying on the floor dead. A gun was held loosely in one of her hands, so it must have been a suicide. He could only tell it was her because of the clothes and the booze bottle nearby. Decomposition had taken a toll on her, and the smell in the room was just as terrible.

Dave wasn't sure what to feel. He just stared at the body, as if it might move or explain what happened or greet him or something. But none of that happened. She was dead, and that was that. He gulped and felt himself shivering under his skin. This wasn't fair.




John noticed Dave's shivering at the discovery of the body and held his sleeve more tightly. This must be his aunt, or mom...? He was a bit confused on the matter, but that wasn't important right now.

They waited a few silent seconds, watching the corpse as though it might move. Eventually John had to draw his attention to other things.

John glanced at the tables of beakers and solutions in bottles and vials that were on the other side of the room.

"Dave?" he asked, avoiding the elephant in the room for the moment. They'd both lost enough already, neither of them needed reminding of it. "What was she doing down here?" There were little bits of decomposing flesh and rotting teeth on the counters and in beakers on the tables.

John paused next to a few of them, some teeth and skin looked less gone than others. "It looks like... it looks like she was looking for a cure," he said, gesturing to the teeth that looked less dead than the others suspended in pink liquid.

"Looks like she was pretty close too; why would she kill herself?"




Dave tried to stop his shivering, looking at John instead. Focus on John, not the body. He forced his feet to move, joining the other and looking around the large room. On the other side he saw a door with a small window, a bit of smeared blood on it.

He stopped shivering, and he wasn't scared or hurt anymore. He felt calm, and frankly, a little dead inside.

"Because she tested it on Rose... I don't think it worked."

His legs felt like lead as he dragged himself towards the cell door. He stared inside the window, one hand touching the door. And he saw her. But she was gone. Crouched in the corner, flesh peeled, eyes bloodshot.

He dropped his forehead against the door and bit his lip hard enough to almost draw blood.

"Fuck..."




John followed Dave over to the door, putting a hand on his shoulder in hopes of comforting him even a small bit. They were just alike, he realized. They were both completely alone now.

Except for each other.

John's breath hitched in his throat and he wrapped his arms around Dave's torso, giving into a surge of empathy and loneliness. He didn't know what they would do now. Dave had been counting on Rose and her mother to be here and alive for a place to stay... Would he really want to stay here after seeing their corpses in the place he'd thought would be safe?

John didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to stay with Dave, no matter what.

They needed each other.

A day of repressed emotions started to well up, tears barely held back behind his eyelids as they stood there silently. Nothing needed to be said yet.

But John knew from now on... it was them, just the two of them against the world.




He would have to kill her... If the cure did anything, it made her half-alive, and she was probably in pain, suffering in this stupid cell while her flesh came off and she craved human brains.

His body felt cold, and John's arms around him felt cold too. He thought everything would be okay when he got here. He thought they'd be alive, and they could survive in this house, and he'd have a family, and he and John could be happy.

He still felt dead inside. Legs giving out, he slowly sunk down to his knees, forehead still to the chilly metal of the door. He wasn't shaking, and his arm didn't even hurt. It was like he was a zombie himself, eyes up and seeing nothing. This wasn't fair.

This wasn't fucking fair.

With passing time, the rest of his body gave out, and he leaned into John's arms limply. He had given up.




John's heart raced as he felt Dave fall limply against him. No. No, this couldn't happen to Dave.

He'd heard stories of people giving up, completely losing all hope and feeling like they had nothing left to live for. They would just stop trying and that eventually killed them. Whether it be from water or food deprivation, or from them not moving during a zombie attack, or leaving an infected wound untreated.

Now his tears did spill over.

This couldn't—it would not happen to Dave!

John grunted in between his tears, pulling Dave up from the floor.

"Come on Dave! I-I'll take care of Rose, you go up and lay down for a bit. Get something to eat and drink and take some pain meds, please, everything will be okay... somehow," he said, desperation evident in his voice. He couldn't lose Dave now, not after everything they'd gone through. It couldn't be this, something he might be able to fix with time, that did him in.




Dave didn't really care anymore. He looked at John and weakly rubbed some tears from his face with a sigh. "Yeah... okay." He stood up, holding his katana handle in his hand while the blade just dragged.

"Just... don't let her suffer. Make it quick, please." He looked in the window for a bit and heard the faint sound of Rose's little groans. "I did the same for Jade."

With that he left. He wasn't worried about John this time. Rose probably wouldn't fight back, having a bit of that cure in her system. She was probably in a living hell right now.

When he got upstairs, he didn't eat and didn't drink and didn't take any pills. He laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. He wondered why he was even surviving. John was probably the only reason he was still alive right now. He wondered what John was fighting for.

Would it be better if they both just ended it right now?




John winced at Dave's comment about Jade, but nodded, hoping he would do exactly as he said.

John gripped the pistol a little tighter, grasping the handle of the door and pulling it open. Rose looked up as the door creaked open and John stepped inside, but did nothing more. She didn't look like she had the energy to do anything more.

"H-Hi, Rose," he said quietly, kneeling down next to her. "I'm John... I'm travelling with Dave. He came here to see you, but..." he couldn't finish. Rose's eyes showed understanding though, so he continued on.

"H-He... well, we would like to put you out of your misery, it's gotta hurt, being half alive like this," he paused, looking into Rose's purple but blood shot eyes for anything helpful. To his surprise, she nodded. Just the tiniest bit. Her eyes looked almost thankful.

John nodded resolutely, wiping away tears that had re-formed before putting the gun to her forehead. Rose closed her eyes, looking peaceful, and John fired.

Her body slumped. It had been quick, just like Dave had wanted.

John's hands shook as he tucked away the gun, standing back up. He remembered what Dave had done for Jade, and took off his sweatshirt, laying it over Rose's eyes and saying a few words. He hadn't known Rose, but if she'd meant something to Dave, she had to have been a good person. He wished her well.

It was a only a few minutes later when he was coming back up stairs to Dave.

"She's gone... Um... she looked peaceful, Dave, she was ready to go..." he said, trying to make the situation better. He doubted it had worked. "Did you eat?"




Even though the backpacks were untouched he replied, "Yeah." He looked over at John, then was staring back at the ceiling.

So Rose was gone. At least she went peacefully. At least she was with her mother. And at least his brother was up there with them. They were probably all happy in their warm, death utopia. And Dave was down here with all this shit, using John as his only bit of happiness.

The pain in his arm began to set in again. There were tears coming from his eyes, ones he couldn't control and ones he couldn't feel. He really felt nothing else except the pain in his stupid stub.




John knew Dave was lying. The unturned look of their bags told him that. His eyebrows creased in concern, more tears starting to well up. He didn't know how to fix this. There wasn't any painkiller, no bandage that could fix the pain in Dave's heart except to let it scab over with time, and if Dave wouldn't eat or drink, there wouldn't be enough of it.

He saw Dave's tears, flowing silently out of his eyes and went to sit down next to where he lay.

"It's... It'll be okay, Dave..." He wasn't sure how, but it would be. They just had to keep living. "Everything will work out somehow... just give it time."




He blinked and looked at John. He touched his cheek, running his fingers along the smooth skin. Skin that was alive, wrapped around a person who was also alive. Then again, what really was being alive?

"Why are we doing this?" he mumbled. "Why are you doing this? I killed your sister out of mercy. Rose is dead out of mercy. Why can't we give ourselves mercy, John? Why can't we go to utopia right now? The world is fucking over. Why do we keep trying to fix something that's broken beyond repair?"

He wasn't sure if he'd given up for good. He wasn't sure how long it would take to change his attitude, or if it would. But for now, this dead person he was becoming, that's all he was.




"D-Dave..." John wasn't sure how to answer him. In some fucked up way, everything he said made sense... but there was something holding him back. "Dave, w-we killed them out of mercy because they were too far gone to live at all..." he said, stroking a hand through Dave's hair. He hated this. Dave was supposed to be the strong one here, what was he supposed to do when his rock of support came crashing down?

"We have to keep living and earn our own passage, just like you said, remember? You have to earn passage to Utopia... If we just give up, we aren't earning anything! Rose and Jade... Dad and Bro, they all lived until they just couldn't anymore. None of them gave up, not even at the bitter end!" He tried wiping away his tears again, trying to stay strong enough for the both of them.




As much as Dave's words made sense, so did John's. Even Mom found her passage, even if it was suicide. She tried to save her daughter, and the world from this sickening disease. And when she had no one, she took her leave. She deserved it.

So they weren't done yet.

He sat up slowly and put his feet back on the floor, facing John who was still kneeling by the couch. He cupped his cheek, gently caressing it. When he found the ability to speak again, it was just a little more alive.

"What would you say to having your first warm shower in years, huh...?"