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turnupswritessometimes · 5 years

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The One With the Zombies - AshEiji - Ch12

Title: The One With the Zombies

Chapter: 12

Word Count: 4026

Description: Another what it says on the tin from me - it’s a Zombie Apocalypse AU because how else could this anime/manga get any darker? Whilst on the run from the outbreak of zombies, reporters Ibe and Eiji stumble across a New York street gang, safely huddled in an abandoned warehouse. As if the undead weren’t surprising enough, Eiji finds himself becoming closer and closer to the gang’s leader, mysteriously dubbed Ash Lynx. But safety doesn’t last forever and soon it’s only Ash and Eiji. And they’re up against more than just zombies.

Note: This is available on A03, and I would recommend you follow it there, as I remember to update it. I would post a link, but then Tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

Ash had hoped that the sense of safety would last more than a day. But going back to look-outs put him back on edge. Made his skin prickle at the slightest of sound and brought back that itchy trigger finger. He ended up shooting a deer. That was okay. They ate that for dinner - cooking it over a fire and eating it in chunks. The gas wasn't working anymore, so they had to cook it outside, guns at their hips in case of any unwanted visitors.

"It's just like camp," Eiji had said, smiling up at Ash. He had kissed his forehead then, to soothe some of the panic in his stomach. It had only been a deer, but if it had been a person - a person in need of help, they would be dead. Ash would have another body haunting his dreams.

He saw Shorter whenever he dropped off. He thought that would be fine, because Eiji would be there to remind him that he was still warm and alive. It was still worth being alive.

But he had woken up to an empty room. An empty room and a knock on the door. Then the door was opening and Max's voice was coming to him.

"You were screaming."

It took him a moment. Sat up, hair in his face and his hands buried in the mattress. " I'll try to keep it down next time."

"That's not what I meant."

"Where's Eiji?" He was proud of himself. It had taken him a whole ten seconds before he had asked.

"Look out. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

That actually brought a sound out of Ash. Not a laugh - not quite - but maybe a slither of one.

"I'd rather face a zombie."

Max sat at the end of the bed. The curtains were drawn, but the evening light still shone in. Normally it would be too bright to sleep in, but they were exhausted. It was becoming easier to sleep when they could see.

"I've never been very good at the dad thing," Max admitted.

"Don't start now."

"Can I chase away any nightmares?"

"Griffin's dead. I killed him. Shorter's dead. I killed him. How do you chase that away?"

Brown eyes pierced his own. Not gentle. Not the kind dad that Max tried to be too often. This was a sober, serious look.

"Do you think they'd want you to be upset over it?"

They had both asked. They had both chosen that. It was easy to be the one to choose, harder to be the one who did it.

Which meant Ash's nerves were running high. He was nervous - nervous about those telephone poles and nervous about how else they might be found. They would be found, he knew, if they stayed here. They had to keep moving.

So he called everyone together. They stood on the porch, making sure they were always protected. Skip sat on the side, loading and reloading Ash's gun.

"We have to go somewhere safer than this," he said. He had an arm around Eiji's waist, a finger curled into his belt loop. He felt Eiji's hand on his hip. It felt right. This felt right. This felt like sliding the last piece of a puzzle into place. It was selfish – it was incredibly selfish to want Eiji by his side just to complete his puzzle, but in the apocalypse you had to be selfish. Everyone else was being selfish. Ash deserved this. And he wasn’t seeing Eiji complaining.

"We know where the virus is now. We have to go back- we have to stop it," he said. His eyes were so full of determination that Ash felt his heart cracking.

"We can't- we can't stop it, Eiji." His throat was dry.

"Or - tell people-"

"Who?" Max's tone was soft. He was back to the gentle dad thing and Ash found that it wasn't annoying him as much anymore. "News stations in the state are down. And no one's about to listen to me."

"Well, we can't just do nothing," Eiji said.

"What can we do?" Ash said. "Three kids and two reporters. We’re hardly even that."

"We can't just run." Eiji looked between them all with a hard, determined gaze.

Run. That was what Ash did. He was good at running. At running and hiding and not turning back. But that wasn't bad. He was starting to learn that. It wasn't just running.

"We're not running. We're surviving." he said. "We're going to survive."

Ash was a survivor. Eiji had said that. So if he was a survivor, he was going to continue to survive.

"So you have a plan?" Ibe asked.

Now everyone was looking at him. It didn't break his resolve, but it made him falter. He stared back and eventually shrugged.

"Shorter was the zombie nerd. Shorter would know what to do."

"The cold," Eiji said. His eyes were focusing on something in the distance.

"Hm?"

"Isn't it- in one of the films - the zombies freeze? We could go north. Where it's colder." His eyes flicked back to Ash, then.

"So...Canada?" Ibe suggested.

Max shook his head. "We'd never get through the border. It's on complete shutdown."

"Bold of you to assume I even have a passport," Ash said. "Who says we need to go through legally?"

"No." Max's voice was firm. "You're basing this on a movie."

"There's not a lot of other things to base it on," Ash said. "We can't stay here. We can't stay in the country. Where else do we go? Mexico?"

“Better weather,” Ibe mumbled.

“That’s true. I know a little Spanish.” Max was rubbing his chin, looking up at the sky.

“It’s too far. It’s a wonder he-“ he wasn’t going to give the name power by saying it. “Hasn’t caught up to us already. It’s too far and maybe Eiji’s right. Maybe the zombies will freeze.”

There was silence for a long time. They stared at each other, willing for anyone to come up with a better idea. There must have been a better plan out there.

Finally, Max broke the quiet. "Fine. We'll go north. We'll take the car as far as it can go."

"Fine by me. I hate that thing."

Eiji turned his head then, to murmur into Ash's ear. "It's tacky."

He smiled, and kissed Eiji's temple. He wanted to melt. To melt into Eiji and let himself be taken care of. To spend the day laughing or sobbing in a rollercoaster of emotions. It didn’t matter if he was haunted by Shorter as long as he had someone to take care of him. As long as he could be vulnerable that was okay.

It was better than being brittle.

But he was still a gang leader. He couldn’t change that just yet. Not whilst there was still a job to be done. He heard the change in his voice, knew he’d hardened back up to stone as he said, "let’s pack up what we can."

Whilst Eiji and Ash had been cycling to New York, Max and Ibe had been raiding gas stations for supplies. The result was an impressive collection of 'I Love New York' tees, most of them a ridiculously large size. As well as shorts and trainers. They were new and they were clothes and that was good enough. And Max had given Ash his cigarettes back. Had slipped them onto the bedside table without a word. Ash had nodded at him. Max had nodded back. It was the closest to a genuine conversation without any sarcasm that they had. And it wasn’t awful.

Of course, there was an argument about the car. About who was going to drive. They stood around it with backpacks thrown into the boot haphazardly, everything but the kitchen sink packed.

"Have you even got a license?" Max was asking, one hand on the handle. "How old are you? Fourteen?"

"Eighteen. And it's my car. Of course I know how to drive it."

"You're not eighteen," Eiji said.

"I turned eighteen last week."

"Ash!"

"What?"

"You didn't tell me!"

"You didn't need to know."

So, it ended up being Eiji's fault that Max slipped into the driver's seat without them noticing. It was Eiji's fault they ended up in the back either side of Skip. Ash loved the kid. He had always loved the kid, but when he was the only thing separating him from Eiji, it was torture. So close and yet so far. It was like Skip knew as well. Usually, he acted twice his age, but when he knew he could be annoying, he reverted back to the kid he should have been. It made guilt and jealousy swirl around in Ash because he knew Skip should have had a normal childhood. He should be in school and with his parents and yet the gang had taken care of him. Did a good job of protecting him.

And he was jealous because he couldn’t remember the last time that he had let himself act his age. Maybe he never had. Maybe it was time to start. Ash did the mature thing. He kicked the back of Max's seat for as long as he could stay moody when Eiji was patiently teaching Skip Japanese.

"And sayonara is goodbye."

"I don't need that one," Ash said.

Eiji smiled. His chocolate eyes were melting when he looked at Ash and it was tempting to melt too.

"So, what's car?" Skip pestered. Like he was a cheeky fairy breaking a spell.

"Kuruma," Eiji said.

"Ku-ru-ma?"

"Mm."

"Skip, give Eiji a break," Ash said. He leant his elbow on the window.

"I'm just learning. It's good to be learned and cultured, Ash." Skip looked up at him with a smile that was anything but innocent. "You just want Eiji all to yourself so you can snog him."

Eiji laughed, but his cheeks were pink. Ash had to look away - not because of Skips words - definitely not - because Eiji was just too much.

"That's not-"

"Eiji, how do you say 'I love you,' in Japanese?"

Ash was surprised to find his pulse racing. He pushed stray hair away from his face, risking a glance over at Eiji. He was meeting his eyes, a smile that was innocent and genuine but also coy and teasing on his lips.

"Aishiteru."

As if that didn’t threaten to make his heart stop completely.

"Ugh," Max groaned from the front. "Can't you kids play a game that doesn’t make me feel like I’m stuck in a rom-com? I was promised a horror at the apocalypse. Or at least an action movie."

"Fine. I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'g'." Ash said.

"Grass?"

"Garden?"

"Gate?"

Eiji and Skip took turns guessing, but Ash shook his head at all of the suggestions.

"Grumpy old git."

To his surprise, it was Ibe who burst out laughing.

"Ash! You're not meant to tell us," Eiji said. He was trying to frown at him. It wasn’t working.

"No, no, the kid is right," Max said. "But I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'L.’"

His eyes met Ash's in the rear view mirror and Ash did his best to narrow his eyes.

"Oh, I know that one." Skip was grinning. "Lovestruck fools."

"Exactly."

"How much longer till we get to Canada?" Ash asked.

"I hate to tell you this, but your boy racer car isn't going to hold out all the way to Canada." Was Max's reply.

They drove past a gaggle of zombies. Too fast for Ash to make out any details, but enough to make the whole car quiet. They hadn't seen any in a while. It had been easy to believe that Papa Dino was the only thing they were running from.

After that, they drove on in relative silence. They tried to turn the radio on at one point - just to see what would happen - and predictably got static back. A few words or sounds came out every so often, like a spirit box. It was better than listening to nothing.

Skip fell asleep an hour in. And Ash was tempted to join him. Cars were safe. They were all here and whilst they weren't driving they could rest.

Eiji's hand found his over Skip's lap. He took Ash's hand, easing his fingers open and running the pads of his fingers over every nerve he could find. It was like electricity. In fact, he could badly stand how it made every part of him feel so alive. How he wanted Eiji to use his magic hands and erase every other touch on him.

He was sure that he fell asleep with that thought running through his head.

They stopped at dusk. Max had pulled into a gas station, just in case by some miracle they could use it.

Eiji had been half asleep himself. Stating over at Ash slumped against the window, his hand still tangled in Eiji's and Skip pressed against his side. In that huge t-shirt, he looked younger than ever. Less Leonardo DiCaprio and more teenager on vacation with his dad. His hair had gone fluffy from the impromptu water pump showers.

Ash snapped awake the moment he heard the door slam, as Max got out to check the pumps. His fingers tightened on Eiji, for a moment tight enough to hurt. For a moment, he looked like a wildcat.

Then the moment passed. He rolled down the window with his free hand.

"Where'd we stop?" he called to Max.

"Somewhere of the I-81. Near Scranton. About halfway there, I reck-" Max broke off, swearing as a few drips came from the pump and nothing else. He moved on to the next one. "We probably have enough gas for another twenty miles or so."

Then they were on their own. Eiji shivered at the thought. The car had been warm and cosy. It had felt safe, just like any normal road trip. But it wasn't - of course it wasn't. The plan was to drive up to Buffalo and try and get through customs at the Peace Bridge. Eiji wasn’t sure how they were going to do that. He’d had a visa, but the last place he might have had it was the warehouse. It might not have even got out of the city.

They waited for the gas. There was a lot of swallowing and staring anywhere but the pump, as if the gas would come out only if they didn’t look at it. Ibe climbed into the driver's side to bring the car forward to the next pump. They managed to get a quarter of a tank from it.

Max and Ash stared at each other, seeming to have a conversation with just their eyes. Then Ash opened the door, lifting Skip onto his back.

"We'll camp out in the station. Take whatever food we can and go."

They chanced a fire. Using a drop of petrol to help it get going and boiling pot noodles in a pot over the top of it. They weren't great, but they were food.

And as Ibe and Max offered to take the first watch, Ash and Eiji had the staff room to themselves. We'll, them and Skip, who had woken for dinner before falling asleep again. Eiji often forgot he was only eight or so. Of this was exhausting for him, it went three fold for Skip.

They sat on a sofa that was more duct tape than leather, their legs tangled together. Eiji was almost in Ash's lap, he realised, and wondered whether he should move closer. They hadn't talked about Ash's past - how it was likely to affect their entire relationship. And Eiji wasn't sure how to approach it other than, "is this okay?"

"This is great." Ash was nuzzled into his neck, his mouth on the short hairs at Eiji's hairline.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Ash paused. His arms looped around Eiji's waist, pulling him closer and knocking him off balance so they fell into the sofa.

"I'm used to it," Ash whispered. "And I'm with you, so it's worth it."

"No. It's not. Nothing's worth that."

Ash's mouth traced Eiji's jaw. "I guess you're nothing, then."

"Ash." He made sure to put a warning in his voice. It made him pull away, press his forehead to Eiji's.

"I'm fine," he repeated. "You're fine. It's different with you."

"You'll let me know if you're not fine?"

"Mm. You want a safe word or something?"

"Sure." Eiji rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Ash's hand. He kissed him, letting his lips move slowly.

"Banana fish." Ash almost said the words into Eiji's mouth, he barely pulled away.

"What?"

"That's it. The safe word. Banana fish."

For some incomprehensible reason, Eiji found himself chuckling at that. Something about it felt incredibly familiar. Incredibly right. He’d never heard those two words together and yet they slid together as if they always belonged that way.

He kissed Ash again, just because he could. "Banana fish it is then."

They were torn between staring at each other whilst it was still light enough to see and by pressing as close together as possible. Eiji's body couldn't figure out a balance between looking at Ash and smothering him with affection.

"I survived my trip to NYC, huh?" Ash tugged out Eiji's t-shirt to read it.

He smiled. "Well, I did, didn't I?"

"We're not out of the state yet." It was only for a moment that Ash's tone darkened. He pecked Eiji's lips again. "When we get to Canada, I'll buy you a leather jacket."

"Oh yeah?" Eiji got brave. He sent a leg over Ash's lap, settling himself so that his hands were on Ash's shoulders.

"Yeah it'll complete your bad boy image." Ash's hands shifts Eiji backwards slightly, so that he was sat on the sofa, between Ash's legs instead of on them. He didn't comment.

"With the leather pants too?"

"Of course." Ash's hand brushed dark curls away from Eiji's face. "I'll sell that tacky earring for it."

"What about your bad boy image?"

"I don't need it anymore."

"Ash Lynx going straight." Eiji shook his head, leaning into Ash's touch. He was smiling. It was so easy to smile around Ash. "Soo-Ling will be disappointed."

That made Ash freeze. "I hope the kids okay."

"He will be. He's tough. Tougher than us."

"Tougher than me?" Ash looked up at Eiji from under his fringe, a signature wolf-like smirk on his face.

"Oh, definitely. One month with some Japanese kid and you're already hanging it all up."

Ash frowned. "A month?"

"About that. It's been hard to keep track of."

"It feels like I've known you forever." Ash leant forward, capturing Eiji's mouth again. His lips moved slowly, almost teasingly, his teeth catching against Eiji's mouth. It tingled, like electricity was sparking between them.

“I want to be with you forever.” He was hardly aware of the words coming out of him. Only really aware that the tips of Ash’s fingers were travelling from the side of his hips to his ribcage and he loved that feeling. He felt himself arching his back to accommodate, his own hands drifting down Ash’s chest. “Is that crazy? I barely know you – it’s an accident that we even met, but I – I’m scared to be without you.”

Ash pulled away, then. Looked him dead in the eyes with a gaze that could never hope to live up to that stupid piece of jade. “I know.”

Shivers went through Eiji. For a moment, he didn’t know if they were good or bad. Scary. It was kind of scary. And yet – and yet, yes – that was how it felt. That was how it felt but he didn’t want to dwell on that.

“Your birthday. Why didn’t you mention your birthday?”

“It’s really not a big deal.” Ash tugged Eiji’s shirt sleeves, pulling him closer. Tugging at his mouth as if he was trying to distract him. And damn, if he wasn’t good at that.

“It really is. You’re eighteen.”

“Mm. Not as old as you, though.”

“You’ll catch up one day.”

And Ash giggled. Or damn near made a sound like he was giggling. That made Eiji’s resolve crumble too. He fell forward, almost flush against Ash, trying to find air to breathe and failing miserably.

They hadn’t realised how dark it got until a torch shone on them. They squinted through the yellow light to see two silhouettes in the doorway. Heard Max say, “your turn,” even though Eiji was hurriedly trying to get off of Ash. To try and disguise their flushed cheeks. Not like there was a point – they hadn’t been subtle about their relationship. But Ibe was still Ibe and it was awkward.

Ash didn’t seem to care. His fingers laced in Eiji’s with ease as he passed the older men. They stood in the doorway of the gas station. The security light still worked – the battery was going, so it flickered on occasionally, casting everything in a yellow glow for just a moment. It felt like a beacon, waving at anything nearby that there were people here.

The mood had changed. This wasn’t the safety of the indoors. Of knowing that there were people who would warn them. This was look out duty and it was tense. It was shadows driving Eiji insane nd squinting into the darkness to see something – anything – and not knowing whether to be relieved that there was nothing there.

Only there was something there. A shape in the darkness. A shuffling shape that, when the light fell on it, was all black gaping mouth and peeling grey skin.

“Ash,” Eiji whispered.

“I see it.” Ash was already pulling the rifle that had been placed round the side of the door out, checking the silencer was screwed on.

“Let me do it.” He wasn’t sure where the determination in his voice came from, but it was there.

A pause. “What?”

“Please.”

“No, Eiji.” Ash was already aiming. Waiting for the light to spark on again so he could take the shot.

“You don’t want me to get blood on my hands.” It had always come down to that. Ash had never liked Eiji shooting, and he hadn’t been able to figure out why until Shorter. Until he had seen the look in Ash’s eye and hadn’t been allowed to touch a gun afterwards. “It’s not that simple.” He paused, watching Ash’s expression. It was fixed. Eyes narrowed. Finger poised. Waiting. Waiting, but not shooting. “Together. We’ve done everything together. Let’s do this together too. You don’t have to take all of the blood.”

There was a long moment. Eiji could hear the shuffling footsteps now and a familiar tightness was in his throat. A familiar racing heartbeat.

Then Ash moved. Quickly, almost knocking Eiji over as he swung an arm around him. He was pressed tightly against Ash’s back, hands over his guiding him into already familiar positions on the gun. He was holding a gun. He was going to take the shot. Going to take some of that weight from Ash’s shoulders.

It was heavy. The gun. He fought to line it up, so that the crosshairs caught two tiny, beady eyes.

Eiji didn’t hesitate. He slammed the trigger as soon as he knew it would hit. Felt the impact of the bullet leave it’s metal home, even if he didn’t hear it. Felt the gun rear back like a wild horse – ever so slightly. The shadow fell to the floor with a damp thud. It was anticlimactic.

Ash’s finger was pressing down over his. So tightly that it hurt.

It had been at the same time. Eiji hadn’t hesitated, so he hadn’t noticed, but they had slammed the trigger at the same time.

At the end of the day, they may have both held the gun, but it was really Ash who pulled the trigger.

#asheiji #banana fish #ash lynx #eiji okumura #zombie apocalypse #zombie apocolypse au #turnupsdraws

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alsoyouremischievous · 6 years

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Sides Carry On

Summary: Roman Prince will do anything to protect the life he’s found through magic. This includes enduring lectures from his best friends Logan and Patton, overcoming his evil roommate Virgil, working for the Mage, and defeating the Insidious Humdrum. His life seems to be set out for him - but things can never be easy, can they?

AO3 Link

Ch. 1

Chapter two

Roman

I don’t think about Watford over the summers. It just isn’t good for me, so I don’t let myself.

I had to learn the hard way, of course. After my first year, I spent the entirety of summer daydreaming about all the things I’d left behind. Imagining the towers of the school, wishing for the amazing food (or really any food that doesn’t come on metal trays), remembering the magic of it all. I even became nostalgic for classes at Watford. More than any of it though, I longed for the people I’d met there - Logan, Patton, the Mage. I was terribly alone for someone surrounded by other castaway boys.

I was sick with the loss of it. Watford School of Magicks started to feel like just another fantasy of my overactive imagination. Something to make the time pass like when I’d dreamt of becoming an actor someday… Or that my parents, the real ones, would come back for me.

My mum would be an actress, obviously. And my dad would be some rugged athletic type. They would weep and plead for me to understand that they’d had no choice but to leave me. They were simply too young, and her career was on the line.

“But we always missed you, Roman,” they’d declare. “We’ve been searching for you.” And I would forgive them, and they would take me away to their mansion hidden away behind a waterfall.

Waterfall mansion… Magickal boarding school…

They both felt like creations of my unchained whimsy in the light of day. Especially when you wake up in one bunk of eight to the room, with all the other discards.

I exhausted my memory of Watford so thoroughly that when proof of it being a reality came around with the fall, I was almost unconvinced. Even with the bus fare and papers and a note from the Mage himself right in front of me, I was scared to believe.

So now during the summers, I dedicate myself to ensuring all thoughts of my better life are locked up thoroughly. For months I shut myself away from it all, not allowing myself to miss it, or long for it. That way the World of Mages can show up as a reward for surviving the summer if it shows up at all. Which it always has, thus far.

At first, I was given the impression that eventually the Mage might allow me to spend summers at Watford, or maybe even at his side, wherever he ventures all summer long. Despite my enthusiasm for the idea, it was decided that I would be better off left with the Normals for part of the year. To allow me to be close to the language (as though anyone spoke to me away from Watford) and to keep my wits about me.

“Let hardship sharpen your blade, Roman."

I eventually realized he wasn’t talking about the Sword of Mages, which is my actual blade. He was talking about me. I’m the blade, The Mage’s sword.

I’m fairly convinced that these summers in children’s homes don’t make me any sharper. They do make me hungry though. Cause me to crave Watford like life itself.

Virgil and his side - all the old, rich families - they don’t think anyone can understand magic the way they can. They believe they are the only ones that should be trusted with it.

But no one loves magic like I do.

None of the other magicians, not my peers and not their parents, know what it’s like to live without magic at all.

Only I know.

Which is why I will do anything to ensure that it is always there for me to come home to.

***

I try not to let Watford into my thoughts when I’m away, but this year… Well, this year I failed.

After the events that occurred last year, I was shocked that the Mage even bothered paying attention to something like the end of term. Who interrupts a war to send the kids home for summer vacation?

Which isn’t to say I’m even a kid anymore. Legally, care wouldn’t have needed to keep me past sixteen, which means I could have gone off somewhere on my own. I could afford to support myself, what with my hard earned bag of leprechaun’s gold.

Still, the mage insists on keeping me in children’s homes. Shuffling me around like the ball in a cups trick. As though I would be safe wherever he decides to drop me, and the Humdrum couldn’t just summon me, the way he managed to do to me and Logan at the end of last term.

“He can summon you?! ” Logan had exclaimed as soon as we were in the clear. “And across a body of water no less. This shouldn’t be possible Roman, there is no precedent.”

“Well the next time he summons me like a half-assed squirrel demon,” I said, “ I’ll tell him so!”

Logan was unfortunate enough to have been holding me by the arm when I’d been spirited away, which is why I assume he’d been brought along. His quick thinking is the only reason either of us escaped.

“Roman,” he’d intoned on the train back to Watford that day, “this is serious.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious! I know this is serious, Logan, he’s got my fucking number.”

“How is it possible that we still know so little about him?” He fumed. “ He’s so…”

“Insidious,” I said. “Being ‘The Insidious Humdrum’, and all that.”

“This is no time for kidding around, Roman. Even you must see that this is…”

“I know, Logan”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Logan so lost for words as he was that day, trailing off and unable to keep his head on straight.

When we finally returned, the Mage heard us out, made sure we weren’t harmed and sent us on our way. Just sent us home, without a second thought.

It didn’t make any sense.

So, of course, I spent this whole summer thinking of Watford despite best efforts. Everything that had happened, and everything that might still happen… Everything that’s at stake.

All of the good things, however, were kept at bay. The good things are what hurt the most anyway.

I keep a list, of all the things I miss most, and I’m not allowed to touch it in my head until I’m about an hour from Watford. That’s when I allow myself to go over it and really feel how much I’ve missed it all before I finally get it all back.

My list of good things started when I was twelve, and it could do with having a few things crossed off of it, but that’s more difficult than one might expect.

Things I miss most about Watford:

No. 1 - Sour cherry scones

I’d never had cherry scones before Watford. I’d only been given the raisin ones, or more often the plain sort, and always the kind that were a little (or a lot) burnt.

At Watford, they have freshly baked cherry scones for breakfast every day if you so desire. Unless you sleep in and all the best foods are gone. They’re also ready for tea in the afternoon just before things like clubs and football and homework get started.

I always have tea with Logan and Patton. Even after all these years, Logan will scold us for eating the scones. “Dinner is in two hours, how much sustenance could you possibly need from now until then?” he’ll tsk at us.

Patton tried to calculate how many scones we’ve eaten since we started at Watford, once, but he got bored before he reached the answer. I suspect Logan might know. At the very least he could figure it out, but I doubt he’d indulge us with the answer if we asked for it. Maybe to better scold us.

I just can’t pass up the scones if they’re there. They’re soft and light and a little bit salty and I'm always allowed to eat them. They're a dream.

No. 2 - Logan

This spot on the list used to belong to “roast beef.” But a few years back, I decided to limit myself to one food item. Otherwise, the list turns into the food song from Oliver! , and I get so hungry that my stomach cramps.

I’m not sure that Logan should rank higher than Patton; they’re both my best friends. But Logan made the list first. He befriended me the very first week at school when he was still unsure about his enthusiastic roommate.

I didn’t know what to think of him when we met. He was a skinny little boy with light brown skin and a shock of blue hair. He wore pointy spectacles, the kind you might wear going as a witch for Halloween, and there was this giant blue ring weighing down his left hand. He was trying to help me with an assignment, and I think I just stared at him.

“I know you’re Roman Prince,” he said. “My mum told me you’d be here. She says you’re incredibly powerful, even more so than myself. I’m Logan Bunce.”

“I didn’t know someone like you could be named Logan,” I said. Stupidly.

He blinked back at me. “What do you suppose someone ‘like me’, might be named?” he’d implored, not quite yet mastering his poker face or his ‘superior’ face that I’m so familiar with now, but pulling off some combination of the two.

“I don’t know.” I didn’t know. Other boys I had met who looked like him were named Saanvi or Adit, and they definitely hadn’t had hair like his. “Saanvi?”

“Someone like me could have any sort of name, Roman,” Logan said.

“Oh. Right, my apologies.” I stuttered.

“I feel it also important to point out that we can also do whatever we desire with our hair,” he’d added, turning back to the assignment, fixing his hair away from his eyes. “I believe it’s considered impolite to stare, although different rules may apply between friends.”

“Are we friends?” I’d asked, surprised and the slightest bit in awe.

“I’m helping you with your lesson. It was my understanding that this is a thing that friends do.”

He was. He’d succeeded in helping me shrink a soccer ball to the size of a marble.

“I thought you were only helping me because I’m dumb,” I said.

“Everyone is dumb,” he’d asserted. “I’m helping you because I like you.”

It turned out that he’d accidentally turned his hair that color, trying out a new spell, and he hadn’t been able to hide it before anyone saw. He’d been too embarrassed to admit it had been a mistake. When Patton and I had realized we’d figured out how to do it ourselves in solidarity, Patton’s hair turning soft cotton candy colors of pink and light blue, and mine becoming a regal red hue.

Logan’s mum is Indian, and his dad is English. Or really they’re both English in that they’re both from London. He admitted later that his parents had wanted him to stay away from me. “My mum said that no one knew where you came from and that you may be dangerous.”

“Why didn’t you listen to her?” I asked.

“I just said, Roman, no one knew where you came from and you may have been dangerous.” To say nothing of his atrocious survival instincts, I do admire his small rebellion. I’m under the impression that his parents always wanted him to be more social than he naturally is. Making his first friend into the one person they’d ushered him away from must have felt like some small victory.

“And anyway, I couldn’t stand to watch such an awful display of magic,” he said. “You were holding your wand backward.”

I miss Logan every summer, even when I tell myself not to. The Mage doesn’t allow me to write or call anyone, but Logan still finds ways to send messages from him and Patton both. Once he’d actually possessed an old man down at the shop, the one who always forgot to put in his teeth, and he’d talked right through him. It was nice to hear from him and everything, but it was so disturbing that I asked him not to attempt it again, emergencies aside.

No. 3 - Patton

Patton came into my life a couple weeks after Logan had declared our friendship.

The Crucible had cast him and Logan in a room together, so I had a general idea of what he was like based off of Logan’s comments. Before we were formally introduced I already knew that Patton was very emotional, that he loved cookies and dad jokes, and that he would try to hug a cactus if he thought it was sad. He lived up to expectations but completely surprised me by how comforting his presence could be. His actions from anyone else would be overwhelming and likely to drive me away, but Patton overcame this by being entirely genuine.

It didn’t take five minutes for the chubby kid with his golden hair and blinding smile to worm his way into my heart.

Logan had been perplexed over why they had ended up put together. The Crucible cast roommates in a way that most pairs were compatible or could form some sort of bond. He couldn’t understand why he ended up with someone who seemed to be his polar opposite.

Patton immediately took a liking to Logan even in the face of the others obvious reluctance to any sort of bonding happening between them. That’s how we met - Patton seeking Logan out to spend time with him despite already having made friends with the majority of student in our year some way or another. And to be fair to Logan, he really did warm up to Patton rather quickly after I accepted his friendship.

I’m glad that they were put together by an outside force because, even with Patton’s ability to charm almost anyone, I don’t think they would have been close if they weren't. The Crucible definitely didn’t make a mistake with them. They balance each other out perfectly despite their bickering. The only mistake the Crucible made was putting me and Virgil Grimm-Pitch anywhere we might have to breathe the same air.

I miss Patton right along with Logan each year. Sometimes he gets Logan to send cookies along with his messages. They’re never very good, but they always make me smile.

No. 4 - The theater

I don’t get to act as much as I used to. I don’t have enough time to between all the schemes I get caught up in and going out on missions for the Mage. You just can’t reliably perform when the godforsaken Humdrum could summon you away at any moment he cares to, so I’m not in the drama club. Which means I don’t get to be in any of the plays that Watford puts on.

I do get to act though. I’m allowed time to do monologues or perform scenes if I can convince another to join me. And it’s a glorious stage: fantastic lighting, and scarlet curtains. The acoustics in there are simply divine…

Virgil is in the drama club. Of course. The villain.

He’s only a techie, but he’s part of the productions and he handles his position the way he handles everything else. Capably, with vigilance. And an absolute disdain for the world at large.

No. 5 - My school uniform

I put this on the list when I was twelve. You have to realize that when I first got my uniform, it was also the first time I’d ever had clothes that weren’t secondhand, and that fit me properly. For someone used to ratty tees and jeans that were too short on me, receiving an impeccably fitted blazer and dress pants with a tie to complete the look… Well, suddenly I felt taller. And stylish. Until Virgil walked into the room, much taller than me and confident enough to scoff at following dress codes.

There are eight years at Watford. The first and second years wear striped blazers in two shades of purple and green, with dark grey dress pants, green sweaters, and red ties.

Additionally, there is a boater hat that must be worn on the grounds until you reach sixth year. Teachers enforce this mostly to see which of us have strong enough Stay put spells to keep the wind from carrying them away. Logan always took care of mine for fear that I would end up sleeping in it should I attempt the spell.

There’s a brand new uniform waiting for me every fall when I reach our room. It will be laid out for me on my bed, clean and pressed and perfectly fitted, no matter how I’ve changed or grown.

The upper years, which is me now, wear green blazers with white piping, and red sweaters if we want them. Capes are optional, too, which I wear of course. They’re fabulous. I’ll never understand why Logan avoids them. Patton wears his sometimes, just to wrap up in it as though it's a blanket.

I like the uniform, and knowing what I’m going to wear every day. I’m not sure what I’ll end up wearing next year when my time at Watford is finished.

I had thought I would join the Mage’s Men, who have their own uniforms which look like an amalgam of Robin hood and MI6. Then the Mage told me that isn’t my path.

That’s how the Mage talks to me. “It’s not your path, Roman. Your destiny lies elsewhere.”

He wishes for me to be separate from the average, with private training and special lessons. I’m not sure he would even let me go to school at Watford at all if he weren’t headmaster there. That and he knows Watford to be the safest place for me.

If I were to let the Mage dress me after leaving Watford I might end up kitted out like a superhero. Or an actual prince.

I’m not asking anyone what I should wear after I leave. I’m eighteen. I’ll dress myself.

Or Logan and Patton will help.

No. 6 - My room

I should say “our room,” but I don’t miss the sharing-with-Virgil part of it.

Your room and your roommate get picked out for you in your first year and you don’t ever get to switch. Trust me. I’ve tried. At the very least you never have to clear out your things.

Sharing a room with someone who would like nothing more than to murder me, and has felt this way since we were eleven, is a very stressful and dismal experience.

The Crucible must have felt bad for casting Virgil and me together because we got the best room there is at Watford. Logan says it’s very unlikely that the crucible is sentient in any way, but I believe it must have felt guilty.

We live in Mummers House, on the edge of the school grounds. It’s a four and a half story building made out of stone, and our room is at the very top, located in a turret facing the moat that surrounds the school. The turret just happens to be too small for two rooms, but significantly bigger than the other student accommodations, which means we get our own en-suite.

Virgil is not a bad person to share a bathroom with. He’s in there all morning, presumably applying his eyeshadow beneath his eyes like a moron, but he’s clean. Also, he’s extremely territorial so his stuff is never in my way. Logan says our bathroom smells like cedar and bergamot, and that’s got to be Virgil for it certainly isn’t me.

No. 7 - The Mage

I also put the Mage on the list when I was twelve, and since then there have been many times that I’ve wondered if I should take him off.

For example, there was the time in sixth year, when he ignored me. Whenever I spoke to him he would send me away claiming to be in the middle of something serious.

That still happens quite often. I understand, of course, he is the headmaster. And more than that he practically runs the World of Mages, since he’s head of the Coven. It’s not like he’s my dad. He’s not my anything.

It’s just that he is the closest I’ve got to anything.

If he hadn’t come to get me I wouldn’t know who I am or anything about the World of Mages. He even still looks out for me sometimes, mostly when I’m least likely to pay attention. When he does have time for me, to actually talk, it makes me feel completely grounded. I fight better when he’s around. And think better. Somehow, when I’m with him, I can buy into the things he’s always told me. I can believe that I’m the most powerful magician ever to face the World of Mages.

I even believe, just for a while, that so much power is a good thing, or at least that it will be. Someday. That I’ll get my shit together eventually and solve more problems than I cause.

The Mage, coincidentally, is the only one allowed to reach me over the break.

No. 8 - Magic

Not my magic, as that doesn’t ever leave me and doesn’t actually give me any comfort.

What I miss is being around magic. The casual, ambient sort of magic that comes from being with magicians who don’t know any other way of life. People casting spells in the hallways and throughout lessons. Someone sending a plate of sausages down the dinner table like it’s bouncing on wires.

It isn’t actually a world of its own, the World of Mages. There aren’t any magical cities or villages inhabited solely by those with magic. Magicians are spread out around the world just like any other group of people, which is supposedly safer. That’s what Logan’s mum said anyway, that it prevents us being too far removed from mundanity the way the fairies did. The fairies found it tedious dealing with the rest of the world and so they wandered into the woods for a couple centuries and lost their way back.

Which makes Watford the only place that magicians live together unless they’re related I guess. Social clubs for magicians exist, and there are parties and social gatherings, but Watford remains the only place where we’re all together all the time. I think that may be why people have been coupling up like nobodies business in the last few years. Apparently not meeting your spouse at Watford could mean ending up alone.

When I’m alone, magic becomes something personal and burdensome. It’s a heavy secret.

But at Watford, magic is just the air that we breathe. Magic makes me a part of something bigger, as opposed to setting me apart the way it does for three quarters of the year.

No. 9 - Picani and the goats

I started helping Picani the goatherd in second year. For a while, hanging out with the goats was pretty much my favorite thing. (Which Virgil had a field day with.) Picani is the nicest person at Watford. He’s younger than the teachers and surprisingly powerful for somebody who decided to spend his life taking care of goats.

“I don’t think power has anything to do with it,” Picani would say. “You don’t make someone play thrashcanball just because they’re tall.”

“I think you meant basketball.” Living at Watford does leave you a bit out of touch. Logan’s mum did have a point about not removing ourselves from society.

“Same difference. I’m not a soldier, so I don’t see why I should have to fight for a living because I can throw a punch.” I don’t think Picani has punched anyone in his life.

The Mage claims we’re all soldiers, so long as you have an ounce of magic in you. He says that is what's dangerous about the old ways, having magicians treat magic as something they don’t have to protect. Feeling entitled to magic, or using it as a toy.

Picani doesn’t have a dog for the goats. He just uses his staff. I’ve seen him turn the whole herd with a wave of his hand. He’d started teaching me, even, how to pull the goats back one by one; how to make them all feel at once that they’d gone too far. I even helped with the birthing one spring.

I don’t get to spend time with Picani often anymore.

He and the goats remain on the list though. I like stopping to think of them for a minute.

No. 10 - The Wavering Wood

I should take this one off the list.

Fuck the Wavering wood.

Ch. 3

#sanders sides #fic #my fic #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #carry on #prinxiety

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wierdogal · 8 years

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Writing Our Own Stories (Chapter 6)

Summary: It’s been five years since Rumplestiltskin was banished from Storybrooke and no one knew what had happened to him. That was until Regina got a call from someone asking how she could transfer the remains of her step-brother from Storybrooke to Scotland. Canon until Rumple’s banishment. [Eventual Rumbelle but towards the end.]

In this chapter, Neal tries to find a loophole and we finally learn who it was that saved Rumplestiltskin when he was banished from Storybrooke.

Note: Thank you to everyone who nominated Emily for Best OC in this years TEAs. Thank you for the love! As my thanks, I'll be updating this story with a few more scenes from her.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

[AO3] [FFN]

Chapter 6

New York, sometime during the First Curse

Neal was getting in over his head. Why on earth would he even entertain the idea of guardianship for a child when he himself was a train wreck?

But there he was at the midtown library of New York, looking over the laws of this realm, trying to see if he had a chance of raising Emily as her guardian. The girl was all alone, after all. He had asked around, even to some of the police he knew...there was no report of any missing girl. Jake, a friend he had in the force, said he'd keep an eye out but so far no one was looking for the girl, no one wanted her.

"Look," began Jake over the phone when Neal had called him for the umpteenth time. "I think it's best for the girl if you just take her in. No one's looking for her, I'd say social services will side with you on this."

"With my RAP sheet," fired back Neal. "Do you honestly think social services is going to let me take care of this girl?"

"Show them how you care," said Jake. "Look, Neal, so far you've been on the mends from what I can see. No more breaking in and stealing cars, no more shoplifting. You actually have a roof over your head...this girl might just be yet another one of those things to get your life back on track. Not to mention her name starts with E and M."

"Not funny," mumbled Neal. "Just let me know."

"Think about it," said Jake. "From what you've told me, that girl has no one else...you can't seriously want her to go into the system, or back into it if that's where she came from." He paused. "She's taken a liking to you and vice versa. I'm sure there's some way you can get legal custody of her."

And that's how Neal found himself in the library pouring over legal books on adoption. He looked over at Emily who was beaming with a stack of books right in front of her. She had been excited when Neal carried the stack over to her earlier, telling her that they'll be in the library for quite some time.

So far the girl hasn't complained. Now that she was engaging in conversation more, Neal could tell the hint of an accent from her speech. Whoever her parents were, or whoever raised her, was not someone who were from around here.

Neal smiled as he watched her read. She seemed to devour every word and the way her eyes scanned through the pages made Neal swell with pride a little that he was able to make this little girl smile despite whatever she's been through.

A small cough brought him out of his thoughts and Neal turned to see an older, Chinese man standing next to him. "I'm sorry to interrupt. But the librarian told me that you've checked out most of the law text and I was wondering if I could borrow the volumes about Business."

"Oh sure," replied Neal, gathering the books the man needed.

"Thank you," replied the elderly man. "I'm putting up a herbal shop and wanted to make sure everything was in order…"

"Not from around here?" asked Neal.

"Hong Kong before New York," replied the man. "Before that? Well you won't believe me if I told you."

"I would probably say the same to you," said Neal. "Neal Cassidy."

"Li Yao," replied the elder man. He motioned to the Emily. "Your daughter?"

"Trying to be her guardian," corrected Neal. "Like you, I'm trying to get things in order."

"I wish you the best of luck then," replied Mr. Yao and headed off to read on another table. The elder man couldn't shake off the feeling that he has seen the boy before but brushed it aside. He went ahead and made sure his shop was in no danger of being shut down by the legal system of this realm. Once he was satisfied he made to return the book but found Neal and the girl had gone.

Mr. Yao went and returned the books he had but as he passed by the table the two had used, his eyes caught on the fairytale book left open and something clicked inside him. He quickly headed to one of the isolated reading rooms of the library… a place no one seems to really wander off into for no apparent reason...or because it was cloaked with his magic.

He found the book that had appeared a decade or so ago and turned to the right page. A drawing of a boy with short brown hair clinging to a scrawny older man with shoulder length brown hair. He waved his hand over the drawing and soon a paper of the same drawing of the boy appeared on his hand. He concentrated harder and the image of the boy began to age until the the drawing of the boy resembled that of Neal Cassidy.

Mr Yao placed the drawing he had used magic on right next to the book. The man, Neal Cassidy, had also came from another realm. The man himself had implied it so earlier. Not only was he from the Enchanted Forest but he was also the reason why the Dark Curse was cast in the first place. Neal Cassidy was Baelfire. He was Rumplestiltskin's son. He was the son of the Dark One.

"Jared there's really no point," said Emily to the person on the other end of the line and Rumple sighed as he heard his daughter's voice from the other room. "I'd rather join my father to America than spend it bored in a useless award ceremony when they're just going to-"

Rumple swore that her friend Jared must have cut her off and for good reason. Emily was graduating with top honors and was being convinced by Jared to deliver the address on behalf of her fellow students to the institution they spent a couple of years studying in.

Emily was smart and a good student but she should be the last person you'd ask to deliver a speech, especially if she had her way...it'll turn to one big speech against the administration and how they lacked in almost every aspect.

"Yes well I'm sure Dean Masterson will be relieved not to see me attending," replied Emily. "Oh so this is all because they want my father there? Yeah well they didn't convince him to speak, why in heaven's name do they think I will?"

Rumple chuckled. Technically that never happened but the workings of magic was truly remarkable. Mr. Yao had explained that the curse had given everyone that was brought by the curse from the Enchanted Forest to the Land Without Magic new lives, including family history and educational attainment. What was even more remarkable is that magic had reworked the memories of people that could be involved...the history of Maine for example, had the foundation of the town of Storybrooke even in their records.

It was the same with the university in Scotland that apparently R. Gold graduated from, with some people even commenting that they had taken classes with him, trying to discover his secretive first name, even though Rumplestiltskin knew that to be a work of fiction.

But he himself, if he tried, would recall moments in campus...studying with professors and even goofing around with other men, drinking alcohol. It was bizarre in a sense but magic was magic...it was the same when he had regained his memories when Emma Swan had arrived in Storybrooke.

"It's not like I'm not going to get my degree if I don't attend," fired back his daughter. "That's why the university has graduate in-absentia. So please will you-"

"Hello Mr. Wilcot," began Rumplestiltskin as he took Emily's phone from her hand and took over the call. "I believe my daughter has made her position quite clear."

"Sir," stuttered the young man. "I-well I was just-"

"Asked to try, I would assume and I understand," replied Rumple with a sly smile to his daughter. "Please do send our regards to whoever convinced you to even attempt to persuade my daughter to do anything she doesn't want. They apparently do not know her very well...like yourself."

"I-" Rumple ended the call and tossed the phone to his daughter.

"And that had nothing to do with the fact that he asked me-" began Emily with a glare.

"Of course not," replied Rumple with a smile. "Your social life is not my concern...especially after you made it perfectly clear the last time you had a lad over."

"Oh you mean Alex who ran out of the house when you entered the room with a gun?" asked Emily, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I thought you liked Jared."

"Yes, well if he thinks he can decide things for you, I retract that statement," said Rumple with a wave of his hand and Emily had to bite back a smile, because she was still a bit annoyed but that gesture that made her reminisce the days when he would show her a spell or a trick with real and proper magic...the one at his disposal.

"I cannot comprehend how you do that," began Emily with a sigh as her father gave her a confused look. "You could be so aggravating and annoying one second and be completely adorable a second after."

"Adorable?" asked Rumple with a raised eyebrow.

"You were twirling your hand," explained Emily with a smile. She raised her phone. "Maybe a little light show to make up for ruining my chance at a boyfriend."

"Are you asking me to show you magic because I told that boy the truth?" asked Rumple, taken aback that apparently he had angered her slightly at his gesture. "I thought you wanted to end that conversation."

"Yes, but I had it under control," replied Emily.

"Uh-huh," replied Rumple with a smile. "And that particular shade of red on your cheeks doesn't help me make my point at all."

"Papa!" called Emily as Rumple all but ran out of the room, his daughter not far behind armed with a pillow.

Somewhere in the Land Without Magic, just a few miles away from Stoyrbrooke during the Second Curse

Rumplestiltskin felt numb. This wasn't how death felt like when he had killed himself and his father not too long ago. Then again, that had transpired in a place with magic. This time it had happened in the Land Without Magic...maybe death was different here.

Awareness slowly crept back to his mind and he was suddenly aware that he wasn't on the hard ground. Actually it felt soft...comfortable actually. It took him a couple of minutes to finally realize he was laying flat on his back on a bed…

His eyes shot open to see an unfamiliar room. He tried lifting his head but that small act took up energy that his body didn't have and he fell right back down.

"Easy," said a voice and Rumple's eyes widened when an older man came to his line of sight. "Your body still needs time to recover even with the light healing spell I could manage."

Healing spell? Rumple studied the man in front of him and it dawned on him that he was somehow familiar...never came across the man before he had disappeared from the Enchanted Forest but the man was known...well any person able to transform into a dragon was someone Rumplestiltskin the Dark One needed to be familiar with.

"You're.." began Rumple, his voice hoarse and low.

"Yes," came the reply. "I was driving aimless in the forest when I saw you collapse."

"You were heading to Storybrooke?" asked Rumple, his mind going into overdrive trying to access his current situation and how he could escape if the man in front of him decided to turn hostile.

"Actually," began the man. "I think my magic was leading me to you...to help you."

All of his thoughts stopped and he stared at the man. "Help me?"

The man nodded. "You must know who I am if you freely talked about magic right in front of me."

"I know who you are Rumplestiltskin." replied the man. "I am Li Yao, if it's any consolation to you. I know how names have power and you would want to be on even ground."

"That's not your real name," whispered Rumple and Mr Yao smiled. He should know well not to try and deceive the Dark One.

"So you do know who I am," began Mr Yao. "I chose the name when I had arrived in this realm..but back in the Enchanted Forest people knew me as 'The Dragon'."

#Writing Our Own Stories #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #rumplestiltskin #baelfire #neal cassidy #the dragon ouat #wierdo writes

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turnupswritessometimes · 5 years

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The One With the Zombies - Ch12

Title: The One With the Zombies

Chapter: 12

Word Count: 4026

Description: Another what it says on the tin from me - it's a Zombie Apocalypse AU because how else could this anime/manga get any darker? Whilst on the run from the outbreak of zombies, reporters Ibe and Eiji stumble across a New York street gang, safely huddled in an abandoned warehouse. As if the undead weren't surprising enough, Eiji finds himself becoming closer and closer to the gang's leader, mysteriously dubbed Ash Lynx. But safety doesn't last forever and soon it's only Ash and Eiji. And they're up against more than just zombies.

Note: This is available on A03, and I would recommend you follow it there, as I remember to update it. I would post a link, but then Tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

World War Z

He saw Shorter whenever he dropped off. He thought that would be fine, because Eiji would be there to remind him that he was still warm and alive. It was still worth being alive.

But he had woken up to an empty room. An empty room and a knock on the door. Then the door was opening and Max's voice was coming to him.

"You were screaming."

It took him a moment. Sat up, hair in his face and his hands buried in the mattress. " I'll try to keep it down next time."

"That's not what I meant."

"Where's Eiji?" He was proud of himself. It had taken him a whole ten seconds before he had asked.

"Look out. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

That actually brought a sound out of Ash. Not a laugh - not quite - but maybe a slither of one.

"I'd rather face a zombie."

"I've never been very good at the dad thing," Max admitted.

"Don't start now."

"Can I chase away any nightmares?"

"Griffin's dead. I killed him. Shorter's dead. I killed him. How do you chase that away?"

Brown eyes pierced his own. Not gentle. Not the kind dad that Max tried to be too often. This was a sober, serious look.

"Do you think they'd want you to be upset over it?"

They had both asked. They had both chosen that. It was easy to be the one to choose, harder to be the one who did it.

So he called everyone together. They stood on the porch, making sure they were always protected. Skip sat on the side, loading and reloading Ash's gun.

"We know where the virus is now. We have to go back- we have to stop it," he said. His eyes were so full of determination that Ash felt his heart cracking.

"We can't- we can't stop it, Eiji." His throat was dry.

"Or - tell people-"

"Who?" Max's tone was soft. He was back to the gentle dad thing and Ash found that it wasn't annoying him as much anymore. "News stations in the state are down. And no one's about to listen to me."

"Well, we can't just do nothing," Eiji said.

"What can we do?" Ash said. "Three kids and two reporters. We’re hardly even that."

"We can't just run." Eiji looked between them all with a hard, determined gaze.

Run. That was what Ash did. He was good at running. At running and hiding and not turning back. But that wasn't bad. He was starting to learn that. It wasn't just running.

"We're not running. We're surviving." he said. "We're going to survive."

Ash was a survivor. Eiji had said that. So if he was a survivor, he was going to continue to survive.

"So you have a plan?" Ibe asked.

Now everyone was looking at him. It didn't break his resolve, but it made him falter. He stared back and eventually shrugged.

"Shorter was the zombie nerd. Shorter would know what to do."

"The cold," Eiji said. His eyes were focusing on something in the distance.

"Hm?"

"Isn't it- in one of the films - the zombies freeze? We could go north. Where it's colder." His eyes flicked back to Ash, then.

"So...Canada?" Ibe suggested.

Max shook his head. "We'd never get through the border. It's on complete shutdown."

"Bold of you to assume I even have a passport," Ash said. "Who says we need to go through legally?"

"No." Max's voice was firm. "You're basing this on a movie."

"There's not a lot of other things to base it on," Ash said. "We can't stay here. We can't stay in the country. Where else do we go? Mexico?"

“Better weather,” Ibe mumbled.

“That’s true. I know a little Spanish.” Max was rubbing his chin, looking up at the sky.

There was silence for a long time. They stared at each other, willing for anyone to come up with a better idea. There must have been a better plan out there.

Finally, Max broke the quiet. "Fine. We'll go north. We'll take the car as far as it can go."

"Fine by me. I hate that thing."

Eiji turned his head then, to murmur into Ash's ear. "It's tacky."

It was better than being brittle.

Of course, there was an argument about the car. About who was going to drive. They stood around it with backpacks thrown into the boot haphazardly, everything but the kitchen sink packed.

"Have you even got a license?" Max was asking, one hand on the handle. "How old are you? Fourteen?"

"Eighteen. And it's my car. Of course I know how to drive it."

"You're not eighteen," Eiji said.

"I turned eighteen last week."

"Ash!"

"What?"

"You didn't tell me!"

"You didn't need to know."

"And sayonara is goodbye."

"I don't need that one," Ash said.

Eiji smiled. His chocolate eyes were melting when he looked at Ash and it was tempting to melt too.

"So, what's car?" Skip pestered. Like he was a cheeky fairy breaking a spell.

"Kuruma," Eiji said.

"Ku-ru-ma?"

"Mm."

"Skip, give Eiji a break," Ash said. He leant his elbow on the window.

"I'm just learning. It's good to be learned and cultured, Ash." Skip looked up at him with a smile that was anything but innocent. "You just want Eiji all to yourself so you can snog him."

Eiji laughed, but his cheeks were pink. Ash had to look away - not because of Skips words - definitely not - because Eiji was just too much.

"That's not-"

"Eiji, how do you say 'I love you,' in Japanese?"

"Aishiteru."

As if that didn’t threaten to make his heart stop completely.

"Ugh," Max groaned from the front. "Can't you kids play a game that doesn’t make me feel like I’m stuck in a rom-com? I was promised a horror at the apocalypse. Or at least an action movie."

"Fine. I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'g'." Ash said.

"Grass?"

"Garden?"

"Gate?"

Eiji and Skip took turns guessing, but Ash shook his head at all of the suggestions.

"Grumpy old git."

To his surprise, it was Ibe who burst out laughing.

"Ash! You're not meant to tell us," Eiji said. He was trying to frown at him. It wasn’t working.

"No, no, the kid is right," Max said. "But I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'L.’"

His eyes met Ash's in the rear view mirror and Ash did his best to narrow his eyes.

"Oh, I know that one." Skip was grinning. "Lovestruck fools."

"Exactly."

"How much longer till we get to Canada?" Ash asked.

"I hate to tell you this, but your boy racer car isn't going to hold out all the way to Canada." Was Max's reply.

Skip fell asleep an hour in. And Ash was tempted to join him. Cars were safe. They were all here and whilst they weren't driving they could rest.

He was sure that he fell asleep with that thought running through his head.

They stopped at dusk. Max had pulled into a gas station, just in case by some miracle they could use it.

Ash snapped awake the moment he heard the door slam, as Max got out to check the pumps. His fingers tightened on Eiji, for a moment tight enough to hurt. For a moment, he looked like a wildcat.

Then the moment passed. He rolled down the window with his free hand.

"Where'd we stop?" he called to Max.

Max and Ash stared at each other, seeming to have a conversation with just their eyes. Then Ash opened the door, lifting Skip onto his back.

"We'll camp out in the station. Take whatever food we can and go."

They chanced a fire. Using a drop of petrol to help it get going and boiling pot noodles in a pot over the top of it. They weren't great, but they were food.

"This is great." Ash was nuzzled into his neck, his mouth on the short hairs at Eiji's hairline.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Ash paused. His arms looped around Eiji's waist, pulling him closer and knocking him off balance so they fell into the sofa.

"I'm used to it," Ash whispered. "And I'm with you, so it's worth it."

"No. It's not. Nothing's worth that."

Ash's mouth traced Eiji's jaw. "I guess you're nothing, then."

"Ash." He made sure to put a warning in his voice. It made him pull away, press his forehead to Eiji's.

"I'm fine," he repeated. "You're fine. It's different with you."

"You'll let me know if you're not fine?"

"Mm. You want a safe word or something?"

"Sure." Eiji rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Ash's hand. He kissed him, letting his lips move slowly.

"Banana fish." Ash almost said the words into Eiji's mouth, he barely pulled away.

"What?"

"That's it. The safe word. Banana fish."

He kissed Ash again, just because he could. "Banana fish it is then."

"I survived my trip to NYC, huh?" Ash tugged out Eiji's t-shirt to read it.

He smiled. "Well, I did, didn't I?"

"We're not out of the state yet." It was only for a moment that Ash's tone darkened. He pecked Eiji's lips again. "When we get to Canada, I'll buy you a leather jacket."

"Oh yeah?" Eiji got brave. He sent a leg over Ash's lap, settling himself so that his hands were on Ash's shoulders.

"Yeah it'll complete your bad boy image." Ash's hands shifts Eiji backwards slightly, so that he was sat on the sofa, between Ash's legs instead of on them. He didn't comment.

"With the leather pants too?"

"Of course." Ash's hand brushed dark curls away from Eiji's face. "I'll sell that tacky earring for it."

"What about your bad boy image?"

"I don't need it anymore."

"Ash Lynx going straight." Eiji shook his head, leaning into Ash's touch. He was smiling. It was so easy to smile around Ash. "Soo-Ling will be disappointed."

That made Ash freeze. "I hope the kids okay."

"He will be. He's tough. Tougher than us."

"Tougher than me?" Ash looked up at Eiji from under his fringe, a signature wolf-like smirk on his face.

"Oh, definitely. One month with some Japanese kid and you're already hanging it all up."

Ash frowned. "A month?"

"About that. It's been hard to keep track of."

Ash pulled away, then. Looked him dead in the eyes with a gaze that could never hope to live up to that stupid piece of jade. “I know.”

“Your birthday. Why didn’t you mention your birthday?”

“It’s really not a big deal.” Ash tugged Eiji’s shirt sleeves, pulling him closer. Tugging at his mouth as if he was trying to distract him. And damn, if he wasn’t good at that.

“It really is. You’re eighteen.”

“Mm. Not as old as you, though.”

“You’ll catch up one day.”

Only there was something there. A shape in the darkness. A shuffling shape that, when the light fell on it, was all black gaping mouth and peeling grey skin.

“Ash,” Eiji whispered.

“I see it.” Ash was already pulling the rifle that had been placed round the side of the door out, checking the silencer was screwed on.

“Let me do it.” He wasn’t sure where the determination in his voice came from, but it was there.

A pause. “What?”

“Please.”

“No, Eiji.” Ash was already aiming. Waiting for the light to spark on again so he could take the shot.

There was a long moment. Eiji could hear the shuffling footsteps now and a familiar tightness was in his throat. A familiar racing heartbeat.

It was heavy. The gun. He fought to line it up, so that the crosshairs caught two tiny, beady eyes.

Ash’s finger was pressing down over his. So tightly that it hurt.

It had been at the same time. Eiji hadn’t hesitated, so he hadn’t noticed, but they had slammed the trigger at the same time.

At the end of the day, they may have both held the gun, but it was really Ash who pulled the trigger.

#the one with the zombies #asheiji #banana fish #ash lynx #eiji okumura

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