a/n: I don't wanna say anything yet about this but it was nice to write, at the least. It starts off very cheery and happy and gets very angsty and depressing toward the end. Some cursing in there as well. Mentions of Zed being attacked by humans, with some kinds graphic descriptions of scars.

This takes place when they're around sixteen/seventeen, junior year and all that.

Every Saturday for the two years they'd been dating, Addison would wake up earlier and walk to Zed's home in Zombietown to spend the morning with him. The only things that would cut into their Saturday dates would be morning football practice or morning cheer clinics—though that would only happen between August and December, until both sports were out of season. And, on this particular Saturday in late March, they were both completely available and were planning the entire day together.

Zevon—the father of Addison's boyfriend, Zed—opened the door like he always did, always the first one up in the Necrodopolus household. "Morning, Addison," he greeted with a smile.

Addison grinned back. "Good morning. Mind if I come in?"

"Please, you practically live here with us," he said, stepping aside to let her through the doorway.

Addison went inside, toeing off her sneakers and leaving them by the door. She walked with Zevon further into the house, leaving her backpack on the kitchen table. "Anyone up yet?" she asked.

"Zoey woke up a little before you got here, I think she's getting ready for the day," he answered. "And you know how Zed is."

Addison giggled; Zed was most definitely not a morning person. He was grumpy and easily agitated in the morning, especially on Saturdays, until he had his morning shower to wake him up. He was still grumpy after, but had more Zed-optimism.

"Would you mind so terribly if I went and woke him up? He's funny when he's cranky."

Zevon waved her off, already moving to the kitchen to make breakfast. "Knock yourself out. Just a warning, he went to bed with a fever so look out for that."

Addison went up the stairs, passing Zoey in the hall decked out in several towels. The first time she'd seen it, the little zombie had simply said 'It gets cold between the shower and my room'. It didn't make much sense, considering it was only a few feet, but Addison wasn't going to judge.

Zed's room was on the right of the hall, the door cracked open enough that Addison could hear his soft snoring. She went into his room, seeing him curled up toward the wall in his bed, tangled in the sheet. She went over, taking a second to feel for a fever. Addison leaned over, ready to feel his forehead when she caught sight of an unsightly bruise on the right side of his nose.

"What the?" she muttered. As gently as she could so as not to wake him up, she rolled him over, seeing more bruises and cuts on his face. The corner of his lip was swollen with a cut running from the corner of his nose to his jaw; he had gauze taped along the corner of his left eye, blood seeping through it.

Addison pulled the sheet off of him slowly, revealing more bare skin and more scars. His back was covered in red cuts all up and along like he'd been scratched up by a raccoon with rabies or something. She could even see the white lines of healed cuts and scars, and old yellow bruises still healing, not too far from the fresher bruises. And from what she could tell, his front was littered with bruises and cuts like his back and face.

Addison had to cover her mouth, choking back vomit or tears or both, whatever was about to come up. She hated looking at them, but she couldn't look away either. She stared at him for a few silent minutes, frozen in shock, until he rolled over in his sleep, pulling the blanket back up around his neck. He took a few seconds to shift around, trying to get comfortable in bed before blinking his eyes open slowly. "Addison?" he questioned tiredly.

He sat up in bed, his sheet falling around his waist. "What're you doing in my room?" he asked. He let out a yawn, followed by an obvious grimace. It took him a second to realize why she looked so stunned. "Oh crap," he muttered.

He stared at her, waiting for her to react to anything. After another minute, Addison reached out slowly, taking his chin in her trembling hand and gently tilting his head up. "What the hell happened to you?" she breathed out.

"I—"

Addison, regaining some composure, went on. "You're covered in cuts and bruises. Your lip is swollen."

Zed, always the mediator, said in a 'you need to relax' tone, "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Don't give me that bullshit Zed." Zed seemed taken aback by her cursing—considering she rarely ever cursed, it made sense. She let go of his face, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "Are you in pain right now?"

"I think I'm more tired than anything," Zed grumbled.

"You're not funny, Zed."

"I wasn't trying to be." He pushed the sheet aside, climbing off the bed and stretching upward, groaning at the popping of his joints. "Can we continue this later? Preferably after a shower."

"I don't want you to shower if you can't," Addison said. "Those cuts…they look really bad. Maybe it wouldn't be best to take a shower right now."

Addison stood up. "You're supposed to clean and wrap your cuts, to avoid infection, and then not get the bandages wet."

"You're surprisingly calm."

'I'm annoyed and freaking out, but more concerned for your health than anything.' She took his hand in hers, leading him out of the room and toward the bathroom. "I'll clean and dress, but you need to tell me what happened. This isn't some 'fell down the stairs' crap."

"Thank—"

"And don't think I didn't notice all the healed scars too," Addison added. "I'd like an explanation for those too."

"You just happen to carry medical supplies in your backpack?"

"Are you really complaining now?"

Zed hissed as she pulled off the gauze from over his eye. "Fuck," she muttered to herself. To Zed, she said, "This is deep, Zed. Like really deep. You're probably gonna need stitches or something."

Zed flinched away from her, though she hadn't even touched him. "I refuse," he stated. "I am not getting stitches."

Addison made a face at that. "You can't just refuse to get stitches."

"It's my face."

"Oh my god," she breathed out. "Zed, I think there's glass or something in there."

"What—"

"Stop moving!"

Zed frowned, leaning back against the toilet. "Zed, this is disgusting," Addison told him with a grimace. "This is definitely gonna need stitches. I feel like if I look close enough, I could see your skull."

Addison moved to the sink, running a small towel under the water. "I'm gonna clean up around it, put some new gauze on. I'll clean you up too, but then we're going to the hospital, to get you stitched up."

Addison worked in silence on cleaning the wounds on his face. The situation was only a little weird, Addison cleaning and bandaging cuts on her boyfriend—who was a Zombie—sitting on the toilet in his family home, in his boxers. Needless to say, it was up there in the list of strange situations they've been in.

Once she had moved from his face to his back, Zed asked her, "How—ow—How'd you get so good at this? Ow! Addison!"

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad if you stopped moving," she stated plainly. "And I'm assistant cheer captain, Zed. I've seen more injuries than you have, football star."

Zed grumbled incoherently, hissing again as she rubbed more saline solution over his back. "Now, I request you tell me how this happened."

"Well Addison, humans don't really like Zombies," Zed stated with a cruel laugh. "And sometimes, they like to express their distaste in very…violent ways."

Addison stopped in her handiwork. She tilted her head curiously, not really believing what he was saying. "Someone beat you up?" she asked.

Zed nodded. Addison couldn't see his face from where she stood, though from his tone of voice, he sounded like he was in more mental/emotional pain than physical. "They held my arms and hit my a lot in the stomach. And…uh…they pinned me against the gate. That's what happened to my back. I was struggling a lot, and the fences aren't the best, so I got cut up a lot. And—and they hit me. In the face, at least. And one of them—I don't really remember who it was—he had…he had this knife and—"

"Zed," Addison rasped out. She hadn't said anything for a while but her voice was still raspy; it was hard to get words out and keep yourself from crying all at once.

"You don't—" Addison's voice cracked, which would've been barely noticeable if the room wasn't so silent. She cleared her throat, starting again, "You don't have to finish." After a second, she added in a quiet voice, "If you don't want to, at least."

Zed gave her his unspoken thanks. Silence fell again, Addison taping gauze against the open cuts on his back. When she looked over him again to make sure she hadn't missed anything, she found jagged red lines and deep cuts running along his left arm, some even going under his Z-band.

Zed, noticing where she was staring, shrugged uncomfortably. "They tried to cut off my Z-band," he said quietly, his voice strained. He gestured vaguely at his face, referencing the cuts there as well.

Addison, at a loss of words, moved around him, kneeling in front of him. She didn't know what to say—there were no words that could make the situation any better. She'd heard it before: Zombies being targeted and attacked, some even being killed, by humans who were just so angry. They never got any justice, either, because they were Zombies and the system was corrupt. Still, she didn't think anyone would come for Zed.

Scratch that. She didn't think anyone would physically attack Zed. The fact that they knew they could get away with it was the worst part. If the Zombie were to fight back, they could call the Patrol and get the Zombie locked in Containment. They were practically helpless in situations like this, and no one even cared.

There weren't even hospitals who would treat Zombies; they were forced to go to Zombie Containment And hope for some type of treatment—though usually, if Addison went with them they'd get better treatment.

Still, Addison couldn't begin to imagine what it was like to walk around your own neighborhood, terrified every minute that someone would come and just decide you didn't deserve to live anymore. They could just decide if it's your last day, and you can't do anything about it.

When she looked at Zed's face she saw him crying, tears quietly rolling down his cheeks. Addison held his hands in hers, gently pulling him down to the floor. Zed curled up against her, hiding his face in her chest and letting out choked sobs.

When Zoey Necrodopolus goes into the bathroom ten minutes later, she finds her brother and his girlfriend curled up on the floor. She doesn't say anything; the hopeless look on the human's face is enough for her to know she can't do anything. Anything more than sit there with her brother, like Addison does, and offer him comfort.

.

.

a/n: I cried when I was writing this. My beta got teary eyed. I hope it made you feel some type of way. I don't wanna talk about this anymore, I'm sorry.