Prompt: Life/Death AU

Notes: I'm late, of course. I also posted this ao3 if you prefer, which I'm going to make my junk site, while I keep my FFNet clean and neat and tidy and free of one-shots and the like (which I don't post). My internet was acting up so I will probably upload two chapters tomorrow for the 27th and 28th and then it'll flow from there. While this is happening I won't be updating anything else for a week. Ya'll like zombies?

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June 26th/2018
WHIMS: Life/Death AU

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"Are you okay with this?"

Hesitant, raw-knuckled hands reached out for her but she smacked it away callously—uncharacteristically, wholly contrary to the softly forlorn expression on her face.

Sasuke felt no offense, instead leaning in to kiss the tear at the edge of her eye that he knew she'd been willing not to fall, gaining no response. Hinata just let him do as he pleased, feeling his lips gently brush against her other cheek (because she yearned for it, even if she wouldn't admit it).

Dropping the gun to steady her noticeably less battered hands on his neck, she held him as she angled herself away from him. The look she'd given him flashed in their stubbornness, and she her brows were knit in frustration—how could he ever, ever think she would be okay with it?

A sigh, discontent and equally as frustrated threatened to whisper passed his lips because he was just as stubborn as she was. But he couldn't be impatient, no; he had to try calmly in a voice that told that her it would be okay otherwise she would never agree. What could he expect after all? They were more similar in this regard, selfish and far too passionate.

There was a difference though, he could see it in the weight of her stare, as if she were daring him to try to change her mind. He knew he was losing the battle, he'd already lost one too many, but even if he was inevitably festering inside out—no. There was only the inescapable for the remainder of his life, and he refused to let Hinata be caught in the cross-hairs. At the end of the day, one of them would die.

So he needed to ask again, voice unsteady:

"Hinata—"

"No!" She wasn't particularly loud, her voice was only just above its normal range, but it was the fear and finality that she carried in her cadence through the silent, empty barricaded room that made her sound as if she had shouted.

Because, how could it alright to ask?

Sasuke was everything.

All she had and would ever have again, the only one from home, and she loved him so dearly. How could he even possibly ask?

Sasuke kept looking her in the eye, perhaps in his depths she could find a glimmer of a way he could concede as he gripped onto her shoulders.

"You promised." It made Hinata widen her eyes in awe of the fact that he had the audacity to bring that up. He stated it as if were an everyday fact, as if it wasn't so completely circumstantial. Sasuke watched her reaction, treading lightly, feeling as if he were walking around broken glass. "It was agreed that if should one of us turn—"

"That was different, that was before!"

This time she actually had shouted, every syllable strung with all the urgency she could muster. Sasuke couldn't be impartial to the fact that it was before they had what they did; this precious, consuming happiness in the midst of only grief and dystopia. That promise was made on a tear-stained lawn where they'd haphazardly buried a friend, she knew he understood this, he was grasping at straws—

It was then that she'd realized that it wasn't audacious, not even close. His eyes were coal-coloured and heavy. Sasuke was looking at her just as she was looking at him, as desperate as the last light of a dying star, but with a love as intense as the sun.

They were wrapped around each other on the hardwood floor of an abandoned apartment, but really it was just like every other use-to-be home. The infrequent drip from a tap that had forgotten to be dried (no more water would flow from it than the drip). The cupboards had been raided, blood splattered at random on the furniture (probably from multiple disconnected incidents), and the windows were locked. It was rather daunting, or it would've been, they were far too desensitized.

One window was broken, cool wind could easily drift to their ears, and outwards again, to whomever's ears just happen to be closer, carrying with it ever noise that they make. It was dangerous, the monsters had inhumane hearing, but it was the only apartment in the building that had a key.

Hinata let out the sigh that Sasuke would not. It was hesitant and slow, brushing against his cheeks. Sasuke watched her indecision cross her features before she hastily detangled herself from him and began to walk away from him

"Hinata."

She quickened her pace towards the door, grabbing the key from its hole and running to the other side of the building, which was not large at all, making her trip not less than nine steps, but Sasuke had caught on by the third and stood up to block her way.

"Hinata!"

She skidded across the floor in an attempt to dodge him but Sasuke had excellent aim and tackled her, making that both struggle on the floor, amass of limbs and cussing before Sasuke was leaning a little more heavily on one side—the wrong side, which gave Hinata the chance to procure her right hand from behind her back and throw the key.

Sasuke's eyes widened and he reached, only a little too late before the key flew out of the window.

He looked at Hinata, who lied beneath him.

His breathing was heavy, his shaggy hair surrounded his face like a halo. She could tell he was trying to be angry at her, but he looked more conflicted withsuch tragic circumstances that even his temper couldn't overthrow his sadness. She reach her hands to his face, cupping both side of his face.

"I only have one bullet left." He lamented, still heaving above her. "How are you going to leave? You can't use it on the lock, you have to use it on me."

She didn't think he understood.

Sasuke was everything. Her everything.

The rest? Dead or lost.

Hinata pushed herself up to plant her lips on his, kissing him gently. She pulled away from his unresponsiveness only but a fraction.

"I love you."

Sasuke surveyed her expression, knowing that it was true not only because it wasn't the first time she'd said it, but knowing she had no idea what she was doing.

He didn't respond to it, not with words, instead crashing his lips to hers, hunger and desperation at the cusp of his tongue as it delved into her mouth. Hinata shut her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck, reciprocating with as much emotion, laying them both back onto the floor.

Sasuke kissed her roughly while a hand rand up her side to cup a breast, squeezing her through layers of fabric. Hinata gasped at the pressure, the light embers of pain slowly flushing away as he took his mouths attention to her neck. Hinata hummed satisfactorily at the feeling. She dragged her knees apart so that Sasuke could settle between her legs, where she'd begun to ache for him.

Her hands flitted to his broad back, she slowly rubbing downwards—

Sasuke let out a pained groan, practically jumping from her grasp. He scrambled back, gritting his teeth in an effort to handle the waves upon waves upon waves of torture that flooded just underneath his skin. His stomach flipped. He thought he would be sick.

In the background Hinata attempted to get closer, sputtering apologies, worry masking her face.

Sasuke's breathing was deep and sharp as he slowly gained his wits, he could only look at the floor. When he looked up again, Hinata was kneeling in front of him sympathy stitched across her face as she regarded him. In front of her she held her hands open, they were soaked with blood transferred from his back.

"Let me see." She asked delicately, and he knew she was trying to be sensitive about it, but it was something that also caused her great pain.

Shifting backwards, Sasuke turned around and began to peel away his only two layers of clothing. This new lifestyle forced them to wear every clothing item they had, which couldn't be a lot lest their baggage slowed them down. It was summer, so thankfully he didn't have to wear too much, merely the only t-shirt he owned (but, for Hinata's sake more than his own, he covered it with a thin jacket).

He was thankful to the fact, when the sun blared and the sweat that coated his skin was his only reprieve. He was thankful, but it was the only reason his injury had occurred. He was thankful, on the first day of summer, when the chill of winter had completely receded during spring, and he was holding Hinata's body closely in the morning for reasons other than warmth.

When his jacket disappeared he could hear Hinata's gasp muffled in the palm of her hand.

His shirt was shredded, black as it was the slickness of blood was visible and spread throughout his entire backside, accumulating from the place of attack. His shirt hurt to take off, he kissed with pain as the fabric grazed the wound and somehow burned when the air hit it.

Hinata stared in horror, eyes watering as they gazed upon the open flesh. Teeth marks and scratches engraved on a smooth porcelain surface, deep gashes from where it had attacked, and skin torn like paper.

They both knew these wounds, riddled with the infection, would not stop bleeding until he was dead. And the flow of the blood was the last sign of life within Sasuke, though cursed, it was blessing.

If only he could keep on bleeding, now that the damage was done.

She though back to how the zombie had jumped on his back, gnawing and clawing at whatever it could get a hold of. The fear made her gut wrench, she remembered, shooting at it until she was out of bullets—and yet, ironically, it was the handle of the gun smashed on its desecrating nose repeatedly that made it fall.

And she hadn't stopped, she just kept on beating it in until what was left of its deteriorated flesh had splattered on her shirt, on the floor and on her hands. She couldn't stop until its brain coated her clothing, so that she could be sure that it didn't get back up. She didn't stop until Sasuke had regained his wits enough to drag away.

And they ran and they kept running until they found this building, the key to the apartment buried under the debris of the reception, and no sign of the undead…yet.

Hinata remembered her fear when she'd seen the monster latched onto Sasuke, assaulting him, and the very same fear made her sob at the sight of his wounds.

She could tell how it hurt, how he occasionally flinched even though nothing was touching him.

It was only a matter of time before…

"Hinata…you promised."

She had promised.

After Ino had been turned (by a series of shallow scratches on her right forearm), she promised him. That had happened over a year ago, right after they'd been separated from Shino, Tenten, and Kakashi. She'd looked him in his eye as they stood over Ino's makeshift grave and vowed to grant each the same mercy.

But now Sasuke was she had, all she valued. Survival had gone from a given, to a luxury to chore over the years. They hadn't found Tenten, or Shino, or Kakashi. They didn't know if anyone they knew was still alive. The void of an apocalyptic world was heavy, grief-ridden and taxing in infinite ways. She had felt nearly every tier of pain and hopelessness since its beginning—

No, without Sasuke she would every single goddamn tier of grief and hopelessness.

How could he ask it of her?

She began to weep uncontrollably, gasping for air and covering her face shamefully.

Sasuke moved quickly to hold her in his arms, rubbing her hair.

He understood her conflict, had nightmares about being in her position, but had they expected? To live long enough to see a cure, get married…have a child?

It was impossible if not beyond unlikely.

So he held her until her cries stilled, feeling a similar saltiness brew at the corners of his eyes. And he let it fall, as he laid her back down on the hard floor and they just laid.

Trying to find bits of comfort from birds chirping, or the silence, or the sun's warm rays through the broken window.

Somewhere along the lines, Hinata's lids had grown far too heavy.

She didn't dream, and if she had then she'd forgotten.

But she had been asleep for hours, eyes groggy before widening to an impossible degree, because she felt so cold.

At first she thought it was because Sasuke had stopped holding her to jump out of window, because it was three stories high and he would die, he would've killed himself without giving her a chance to say goodbye, but as she tried to turn she realized she couldn't.

Sasuke still had one arm wrapped around her…but the arm was stiff and cold. The arm of a body having gone through rigor mortis .

Hinata would've screamed but she was stuck. Time had stopped. Shock and abandonment, the pain of losing someone she so greatly loved, the feelings of desperation and fear that had been clogging her throat and removing her ability to breathe—it vanished. All that remained was her, empty, in the arms of her dead lover.

She wanted to. She wanted to shout and scream at the unfairness—they had both been robbed of a choice at any sort of normalcy. There was no dull droll of everyday that gave them time to decide to be together, there was only now or never, ever, ever, ever.

She wanted someone to hurt because of it, she wanted whatever had caused this to feel the amount of despondency that she felt.

She remembered how Ino had transformed, only a day it took. Only a few hours for her to lose her life and only a few more before she woke up. But wasn't Ino that had woken up. It was something that had the cruelness of a murderer but lacked the sentience of one. It was some sort of joke, some cruel sport of the gods that couldn't even blame them for it. They're dead.

Sasuke would be going through the same, living life without any blood flowing through his veins. He wouldn't be Sasuke. He wouldn't love her.

And, as she robotically struggled to get out of his grip, she had to remember that he wouldn't be who she loved.

She didn't love a zombie, she loved Uchiha Sasuke, one of the strongest proudest people she knew. Not some bloodthirsty, cannibalistic piece of shit that couldn't think past getting a meal.

She did.

There were tears streaking down her cheeks, an endless river, but there tears alone. Her shoulder remained aligned, as if she was not wracked with grief. She did not struggle for breath, she breathed evenly, only the occasional stutter in her airflow. A

In his backpack was his gun, a thick jacket and some gauze. (He'd found the gun somewhere along the way. It was a revolver, with only four bullets at its disposal. He barely used it (preferring a machete, for which you needed no ammo), but when he did, he made it count. Sasuke had excellent aim.)

She carried the food that they found and her own handgun. She'd lost it after beating the zombie that would turn Sasuke.

It wouldn't be long until he turned, until he opened his glazed eyes and hungered for human flesh and only human flesh.

Pointing the revolver at Sasuke, she lowered her thumb on the hammer, clicking it into place.

It was time to fulfill the promise she'd made.

Hinata steadied her feet. It wouldn't be long until an army of zombies was bashing their door down at the sound of gunfire. She could escape through the window, scale down the building, and run.

Curling her forefinger on the trigger, she realized that it had become a comforting thing through the years. She'd used it to protect people and herself. And so that made it a little easier to protect herself once again.

She didn't need much aim.

One…Two…

Hesitation. Fear.

Two…

Three—

Bang!

The noise smacked the walls, the rebuttal sent her to her knees before the woman feel into her face. Blood began to leak from the gaping hole where her ear used to be, smoke floating from the burned skin as blood began to pool around her head.

In the end she couldn't fulfill that vow. She had condemned Sasuke (but that was just it, it wouldn't be Sasuke) to a life that he could not control.

The reason was simple.

Sasuke was everything.