A/N (For those of you who are watchers for my other works): I know it's been a long time since I've updated any of my stories, but again, I promise you that they will be completed. Meus and Non Vedo, Non Sento, Non Parlo are the shorter of the four and will be worked on after Carrier is completed. I apologize but O'Death and The Sky Belongs to Us will be last. Unlike the others, their plot lines are so convoluted and all over the place, that those are gonna take a fair amount of time for me to go through and fix. I may even end up rewriting them. If I do do that, the basic plot and story mechanisms will all be the same, but these are some of my earliest works so there's so much unnecessary information and such that I simply can't work with them anymore. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

A/N (For the rest of y'all): Geeks/infected/walkers = stereotypical zombies (note: this is not the Walking Dead universe, but I do so love the term "geek" for zombies and I wanted to incorporate it into this story. There's also certain mechanics that I liked from that universe, and wanted to use, but those'll be revealed in the story. I don't wanna spoil anything.)

Amateur medical stuff is amateur. But I tried my best and did some basic research. Took one of Antonio's wounds straight from the Huffington post that covered Azizulhasni Awang, if you're interested. I tried posting the link but this site is being weird. I'm sure you'll be able to find it without a problem though.

Also! I just wanted to say that this story is already half-way completed and is sort of my "welcome back from hiatus!" gift to myself. There are going to be about 5-6 chapters total and I have 3 already done. I just wanted to post the first chapter prematurely to help give that final push for the last 2-3. My goal this year is to write more and post something at least once a week, no excuses! If people demand more chapters then that'll help motivate me. Though of course I'd love to hear what you think, and constructive criticism is always nice :) So I'll be uploading a new chapter every Thursday until its completion, so please keep me accountable!

WARNINGS (PLEASE READ): Allusions to suicidal thoughts, survivor's guilt, gore, explicit violence, explicit language, "off-screen" character death(s), explicit sexual content, attempted gang rape (I can promise you right now though that it won't be followed through. But there will also be another warning in the chapter it's in so you will be getting a heads up) and a fair amount angst. Lots of angst. But the world is kinda fucked over so that's to be expected. There'll also be equal amounts of fluff that makes you wanna puke rainbows though, so it'll hopefully all balance out. You've been warned.

Thank you to those who read this long ass author's note (I promise the others won't be this long, I just felt like there was so much to say after my almost 2 year hiatus), and I hope you like the story!

xx decorusvita

Everything hurt, but he did what he was told and kept on running. Even with the giant splinter in his calf that meant he had to limp the entire goddamn way. He couldn't — wouldn't — let Gil's sacrifice be in vain. He had to get far away enough before the bomb went off. He had to—

BOOM

The force of the impending explosion violently hurls the man forward and slams him right onto the broken windshield of a long-abandoned car.

Then everything for Antonio goes dark.

-o0o-

The explosion immediately catches my attention — how could it not? — and I take a moment to stop scavenging the cupboards for supplies to glance over the countertop and through the broken window, catching sight of the billowing smoke a short distance away. It had to be a couple blocks, at most.

"Fucking shit," I mutter to myself, quickly grabbing whatever useful is in reach before putting it into my knapsack. I sling it over my back and automatically secure the buckles into place, all the while moving over to the window in order to try and get a better look.

"Must've been in some pretty deep shit to pull a stunt like that…," I muse grimly, different scenarios beginning to play through my mind. But just as quickly as each one comes, I shake it off. Well, I think to myself, making sure my knapsack is secure one more time before hopping onto the counter to exit back out the window. Might as well go check out the area for supplies. Geeks'll be swarming in for miles.

-o0o-

I land on the pavement with a soft thump, carefully maneuvering myself to keep close to the building's side as I glance around for any survivors. But other than the dozens of geeks and burning debris, there wasn't anyone in sight.

Good.

I push away from the wall and past my first random geek, not even pausing when it growls in confusion, lunging itself close enough to sniff at my flesh, trying to figure me out. Its nose even manages to graze right along my throat but I continue to walk past it, like nothing happened.

My heart rate doesn't even stutter.

It never does. Not by a geek, anyway.

I continue to glance around at the surrounding buildings for any survivors out of habit, cataloguing any shifty movements in the windows. When I continue to find none, I navigate the waves of geeks towards the burning building. The flames are going loud and strong; the smell of smoke is so heavy in the air that I almost miss it at first, before something catches my attention. My eyes flash immediately to the car in front of me, and—

W-Wha…

What the fuck?

How the man is still alive and not already being devoured by the surrounding geeks is beyond me.

For the first time in a long time though, I actually feel my heart stutter. He…

He isn't infected.

It takes a fair amount of concentration, but now that I focus hard enough I can smell him underneath all the smoke, and he's pure. Not a single hint of the infection is in his blood.

The last time I actually saw someone who wasn't infected was…fuck, it's been such a long time…

His incoherent groaning snaps me back to reality and when he starts writhing around in pain, I realize that that was what caught my initial attention, and I don't have to look around me to know that the other geeks are starting to notice him now too.

I let out a particularly vicious curse and without sparing an extra thought to wonder what the flying fuck I was doing, I slide out the emergency hunting knife from the sheath attached to my thigh and stab the nearest geek right in between the eyes. It actually looks comically confused, even as I place a hand on its shoulder to jerk the knife right back out.

Everything from then on rushes by in a rapid blur, but I become hyper aware of little things. Like the adrenaline pumping through my veins, the sound of the knife's clang on the ground, the geek's brittle bones that break through all too easily when I shove my hand into its chest cavity, the small pinpricks of pain in my fingers when I finally grab hold of the rotting heart and yank it out.

There's no hesitation; no pause.

There can't be. Not if I want him to live.

So I don't waste any time. I take the heart and squeeze the cold organ, using so much pressure that the now gelatinous muscle gushes between my fingers and oozes between each digit. I can feel pieces get stuck underneath my fingernails when I harshly rub it into the back of the man's shirt and smear it all over his neck and hair. Everywhere that his scent was the strongest, I covered. He needed to reek. If any geek becomes even remotely aware of what he really is, then…

I force the possible scenarios out of my mind. Later. Focus.

I quickly unbuckle my bad and throw it onto the ground before maneuvering the man around so that I can ease him onto my back. He keeps gasping in pain and I can't help but flinch at the sound, but otherwise I ignore it, knowing that there simply isn't any time.

Somehow, we make it back to the condo without a hitch.

I was actually fast enough to cover up his scent, so it left the geeks who briefly smelled him confused and disoriented.

For a moment, it almost feels like God exists again.

Almost.

Because if He exists then Feliciano would still be alive, now wouldn't he?

-o0o-

Fuck, why did I do that, dammit?!

I-I don't even…

Why did I take some random man back to my condo — of all places — before heading over to the nearest hospital? Now I'm here in the goddamn Foggy Bottom district because there's sure to be all the medical supplies I'll need to treat him and…and I didn't even think. Fuck, I just left my knife and knapsack just lying there in the street and made a fucking fantastic split-second decision to save some idiot's life and I just…

Jeez, just what is wrong with me?

There's no difference between me and the next fucking geek! What am I suppose to do now, huh? If I so much as breathe in his face, then he'll—

I can't control the violent shudder that runs through my body before forcing myself to take a deep, shaky, breathe because fuck. No, seriously. Fuck.

I…fuck, okay. Okay. It doesn't matter. It's too late to go back now. I can't just fucking…I-I don't know, drop him off somewhere and leave him to die. Because that's what's going to happen if I don't treat him ASAP. He needs to be treated and treated soon, so…so maybe if I'm really careful, and make sure to always cover my mouth, then maybe, j-just maybe…

Right…

Right.

The tremor in my hands isn't as bad when I go to grab a bulk of surgical masks from the shelf and stuff them into the garbage bag along with everything else I could possibly need.

Okay… this can work.

It has to.

-o0o-

I finally allow myself a sigh of relief when I finish cleaning him up, looking over to asses him one more time to make sure I got everything. Nothing more could be done about the major muscle bruising all over his chest, nor the small cuts here and there… but the dislocated shoulder was set back into its proper place, and the thin wooden shard removed from his calf.

There's no doubt that he'll be in a fuck-ton of pain when he wakes up, but goddamn what a lucky son-of-a-bitch. The shard didn't pierce through anything vital as far as I could tell. Not only that, but when I carefully pulled it out I noticed that it somehow broke itself, practically right smack in the middle, so the muscles actually had a chance of not tearing apart any more then what was already done. If he's lucky enough, he may even make a full recovery. The only thing we need to worry about now is if it severed any blood vessels, which is possible, but without a CT scan it's just impossible to know for sure.

Satisfied for now, I sit back in my chair and that's when my whole body suddenly feels absolutely shitty and rundown, the adrenaline finally wearing off after hours of anxiety and worry. It's a bad idea on so many levels — there's a random ass man in the condo, remember? — but I can't be bothered and my neck instead relaxes back onto the headrest.

I close my eyes, feeling the warm slime underneath my fingernails because of the sterile gloves I'm still wearing, but I can't find myself caring all too much. Sleep first, then I'll clean up… Sleep is good.

Hopefully the man won't freak out too much if he wakes up before me. Being covered in blood and guts probably won't help, but I'm fucking tired and goddamn, not getting killed in my sleep would be nice.

Although maybe… maybe finally disappearing into nothingness wouldn't be so bad after all. Especially if I'm asleep.

Right…?

Feliciano?

The last thing I remember before drifting off is my brother's soulless eyes staring into mine right after his teeth ripped off the flesh of Ludwig's cheek.

-o0o-

A pained grunt cuts through the darkness and jolts me awake with a start. I immediately straighten up in my seat and glance around to the door and boarded windows, straining my ears for any more suspicious sounds.

"Where'm I?"

My head snaps over to see unfocused emerald eyes looking around the room, noticing how they never stay on the same spot for too long.

"Where'm I?" he repeats in a slur, his head continuing to loll around on the mattress in awkward angles as he becomes more and more restless, "Everything's wrong, what— "

"Hey, hey," I try to soothe, all the while scrambling out my chair and coming over to kneel besides where he's resting on my bed, just in case he tries anything stupid. Like attempting to get up and move around. "You're in Georgetown. You needed to be patched up and this place is secure. What you're feeling right now is the oxycontin but don't worry; I only gave you enough to take the edge off so you could rest more easily. Didn't wanna risk giving you an overdose." I pause a moment before mumbling somewhat hesitantly, "Sorry."

The man stares at me like he just noticed me being there, frowning for several long seconds. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and you can practically hear the cogs turning until—

"Dios mío, your eyes are beautiful."

For the first time in recent memory my face heats up in honest-to-god embarrassment, especially when the man just looks at my face in complete awe.

"I'm covered in blood and geek guts and that's your first thought?" I ask incredulously, with it now being my turn to watch the man in fascination when the tan skin of his cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink. His eyes seem to clear up at my words though and he glances down my frame, eyes widening when he finally takes in my whole appearance.

"A-Ah. Well. Would'ja look at that…"

…

Now's probably the time when I should say something "friendly" to take the edge off and reassure him. Or some shit. But what comes out of my mouth is:

"Fucking relax, will ya? I am the guy that patched your ass up."

I have to control the sudden urge to slam my head into the nearest wall.

Dear god, what was that?

The man's lips twitch at the corners.

"So you've had your hands pretty full with my ass then, huh?"

I gape at the man and somehow it's entirely possible for my face to get even hotter and his mouth twists into a full-blown grin, as if he's actually fucking proud of himself. That bastard!

"I-I… T-That… What—"

The man's small chuckle quickly turns into a loud gasp of pain, with him clutching his side on instinct. He uses the wrong arm however and hisses in surprise at the new wave of pain he's sure to be feeling in his shoulder.

"Don't move so much, idiot. Shit," I mutter, idly moving his arm back into its original position with gentle, yet firm, hands before very carefully applying pressure to his ribs. It doesn't take much before he gasps in pain again and I immediately let up, "Fuck. Yeah. That's a fractured rib, alright. Maybe even broken?" I continue to mumble to myself, letting the familiar train of thoughts wash over me as I focus intently on the new development, "Jeez, you really are one lucky son-of-a-bitch, you know that? Your lungs could've easily been punctured while I was lugging you around earlier, if I only had an x— "

I come back to myself with a jolt when I realize I'm fucking rambling and forcibly close my mouth shut with an audible snap. The man doesn't say anything at first, he's not even given me a "look" so much as he's watching me like… like the situation finally hit him and he just can't quite figure out why I'm doing all of this.

Well, that fucking makes two of us. Join the club…

"I don't even know your name," he finally murmurs, the statement completely throwing me off-guard. I realize that before that moment, I never even thought of asking something so simple, so human.

"Lovino. My name's Lovino." The words sound strange on my tongue. Foreign. I haven't shared my name in such a long time.

"Lo-vee-no," the man enunciates carefully, as if getting a feel for it before he smiles at me and…and fuck, I can't help but openly stare at how relaxed and happy he looks. How? It feels like another lifetime ago since I've felt either. "I'm Antonio… Thank you."