First attempt at an MCR/The Used fan-fic. I'm obsessed with zombies. ;D Enjoy.


The knock on the door made me jump and almost drop my coffee. We hadn't had visitors since the apocalypse began, so I was scared stiff. Of course, at the time I was in the house alone. Frank and Mikey had told me not to open any of the doors. I debated whether or not to before deciding to do exactly what Gerard had did. I approached the window and saw a boy I barely recognized.
Barely, but he was familiar. I couldn't place his name.
I spoke calmly through the door. "Who are you?" His name surprised me. "Quinn."
I forced the slight shock from my voice. "You're not infected, are you?" I asked, softer. There was a pause and I figured he was checking himself for bites.
That or he was mentally debating whether or not to lie to me. "No."
I bit my lip. "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to talk to Frank. There's zombies across the street, you have to let me in." His tone remained strangely calm. I slid the lock off the door, opening it. He was a friend of my dad, I had to trust him. Right?


I didn't know when they'd be back.
And I definitely didn't know what they'd be like when they did. I waited with Quinn for a while, drinking my coffee, trying to stay calm. I was wondering what was taking so long, and honestly, I was worried and scared. Frank said that they'd be back soon. Six hours of waiting was not what I call soon. After a while I started to fall asleep. What surprised me was the Quinn stayed with me, sitting close to me but staying quiet. My eyes were closed and I was about to fall asleep with the back door flew open. I jumped, clinging to Quinn and turning around. Frank stumbled inside, his face pale and his eyes looking dead.
Dead.
Oh God, my father was a zombie.
Quinn stood up with me, pulling me behind him. His hand went to his pocket and he pulled out a gun. "Frank, I swear, if you take one more step..." he threatened, his finger resting on the trigger. I tried to close my eyes. I tried to look aWay. But I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried.
Frank lunged at us. At me. He tore me aWay from Quinn and his teeth were at my neck in seconds. I screamed as loud as I could. Quinn shot him. Once. Twice. Three times. Frank staggered back, falling limply to the ground. I fell to my knees, crying. The gun fell next to Frank and Quinn's arms were around me. He rubbed my back, murmuring to me, telling me over and over to relax. I couldn't. I shook, sobbing into his shirt.
"It'll be alright."
That struck a nerve.
I pulled back, exploding. "Don't you dare say that to me! You know it's a lie! It's the fucking apocolypse, Quinn, and my dad is dead! He bit me and I'm going to die! Just shut up. It won't ever be alright again. Shut up!" I snarled. Quinn backed aWay. "Del, listen to me. I know for a fact that you can't survive this on your own," he tried. I stared at him, shaking my head. "No. I can't. I'm not going to survive anyWay, Quinn. Stop talking to me."
He moved my hair off my neck, touching the bite. On instinct I jumped aWay, letting out an inhuman snarl. He held his hands up, his eyes going wide. He reached down, picking up his gun quickly. "I'll go. I know you don't want me here. I'm sorry." He mumbled something else. I caught his arm. "What?" "I tried to protect you, Del. I'm sorry I didn't," he murmured. He looked aWay. I stared at him. Quinn did try. He tried to keep me safe. I shook my head again, turning. He barely knew me and he tried to save my life. He went to the door. "Good luck, Del."
"No." My voice seemed so loud. It wasn't. The entire house had gone silent after that. He looked at me. "What?"
This time, my voice quivered. "I don't want to do this alone. Don't leave. Please don't leave," I whispered.
Quinn moved toward me again, holding me to his chest and rocking me back and forth. "I won't leave, hun. Not if you don't want me to. Don't worry." I began to cry again, letting him sit there and stroke my hair. Neither of them were coming home. Quinn, the one person I barely knew, was the only one I had left. The Way he held me showed that he didn't want to leave.
And for once in five years, I felt safe.


Hope you liked it! Reviews help a lot, and I appreciate critique. It's short, I know. I don't own Quinn (Allman, The Used), Frank (Iero, MCR), or Mikey (Way, MCR). Del's my OC. And yes, I am working on an epilogue. Thanks for viewing. (: