And We Will Never Be Whole Again
Disclaimer: Um… supposedly I don't own Psych or any of the characters in it. Not yet, at least, [insert evil laugh].
Summary: This is how it ends...this is the only way it could end.
Notes: So I've got most of this written already so updates shouldn't be a problem until at least the 30th chapter (yeah it's long). I figured this fandom could use a little more apocalyptic fic. I've also got a playlist for the fic up on 8tracks that you should listen to you. /thequietones/and-we-will-never-be-whole-again
Anyway, hope you like it!
Chapter 1: So it Begins:
"I love the zombie apocalypse because it means that you are free. Freedom is not the same as safety, but you walk with fewer hands in your pocket not as many television words in your ears. I'd like to say, I want you to be there with me. I'd like to but,they will come and in all likelihood, we will not remain. We are prime candidates for gnawed intestines, unlocked doors and large windows— love how they let in the light, hate how they let in the flesh eating abominations— in all likelihood our bones will snap under grinding maddened teeth..."
-KEVIN DEVANEY
"Shawn! God, leave it! Get in the car, now!" Juliet screams at him from the car.
The note of hysteria is obvious enough, especially to Shawn, even now in the midst of all this… this madness.
So instead of taking the extra couple of steps back to grab his phone he dropped on the ground, he runs for the car.
Juliet presses down on the gas before he's even closed the door behind him.
"Ungh. Spencer?"
"It's going to be alright, Lassiter. Just hold on," Shawn whispers, his throat closed up, moving Lassiter's hands off his wound to replace them with his own.
"I know. I'm fine, I'm fine."
He's saying it around gritted teeth though, hands trembling, face too pale.
He can hear Juliet breathing noisily through her nose; knows she too is trying not to breakdown.
He whispers again, soft words to Lassiter. He wants to scream though, just scream and scream until he can't speak and his throat is bleeding.
It used to be such a joke, a game. Gus and him planning it out since they were young children. But Gus is gone, gone, gone, gone. His dad probably too but he doesn't actually know, just has to assume. Lassiter, he can't be Carlton, it's too much of an acknowledgement of everything that is so, so wrong, bleeds onto the car seats, his head on Shawn's shoulder.
Juliet, at least; thank god, and him are untouched and that, that's a miracle. And it will be a consolation later, in a way, that they have each other still, but right now he can't think past Gus, dad, Gus, Gus, Gus, dad, dad.
A mile away, already now, his phone lies in the grass in front of his and Juliet's modest home. The screen glows still showing the date, 2:13 a.m. March 13, 2015. The date the zombie apocalypse arrives in Santa Barbara.