A/N: Thank you to H. 13 for introducing me to the otpprompts site. It's a gold mine.
"The basement is where we need to be. The door is heavy as shit so they won't be able to get in, but if they do get in the basement contains literally all of our arsenal which we will use to blow their fucking heads off!" Reagan insisted.
"No! We should obviously stay upstairs!" Amy yelled annoyed for having to explain herself. "That way we have full reign of the top floors and plenty of spots to stake out incase they do actually manage to get inside."
It's too much space. It leaves too much room for error. Dozens of those monsters will come pouring in. But in the basement they will be contained, it will be easier. Trust me."
"And pray tell how the hell we will get out of the basement? Going down there leaves us completely blind. We will have no idea whether we can leave after we go down there. That's IF we can leave at all. At least upstairs we have several escape routes through the windows if it comes to that."
Amy gripped Reagan's arm hard urging her to stop.
"Do not go down there or I swear to god."
"Or what?" Reagan hissed. "Here's the deal. I will go downstairs, you will stay up here. May the best man win."
Amy loosened her grip on Reagan's arm and attempted one last time to get through to her. "We've lost so many already Reagan, please don't go."
As Reagan hesitated another voice called from the hall way.
"Hate to spoil you guys love fest but I'm pretty sure the attic is the place to be."
Amy and Reagan dashed out into hallway to see Jack hunching over a chest of drawers that she had managed to drag into the hallway while they had been bickering. She fast became unsteady on her feet, collapsing to the ground, revealing her blood-soaked torso.
"Jack!?" Reagan yelled rushing to her side, slowly pulling up her t-shirt to reveal the tell tale mark on her stomach.
"Fuck," Amy muttered slamming her fist into the drawers.
"Jack what the fuck?" Reagan whispered.
"I didn't want to worry you guys and I knew you wouldn't leave me behind so I didn't tell you." Jack coughed.
"You're going to be fine," Reagan said, trying to reassure herself much more than she was trying to reassure Jack.
"I'm going to die and so will you if you go down to the basement you idiot."
"You can never be on my side can you? Even when you're dying. Unbelievable." Reagan smiled sadly.
Jack smiled revealing her bloody teeth before succumbing to a coughing fit which caused blood to spill out of her mouth. Amy and Reagan had seen this too many times before, have had to deal with this too many times before and it was happening yet again.
"D- d- do it." Jack stammered.
Amy dropped to her knees and grabbed Jack's limp hand. Reagan clenched her jaw and flared her nostrils as she reached for the sheathed knife that sat on her belt.
"We love you," Amy whispered stroking the hair from Jack's face.
Tears wet Reagan's face as she unsheathed her knife - which she had meticulously cleaned three days prior after having to do the exact task she was about to do now.
Jack used all her energy to lift her free hand and drop it onto Reagan's thigh. That was so Jack, always being the strong one even though she was literally seconds from death.
"Three…two…one." Reagan counted - it gave Amy enough time to look away before the knife plunged into Reagan's heart.
A gurgled gasp echoed throughout the house and Reagan cringed before turning the knife several times to sped up the process. A few seconds later Jack had passed. Reagan pulled the knife from her chest and slid it back into it's sheath.
"I just cleaned this knife three days ago."
Amy reached over and wiped the tears wetting Reagan's eyes.
"I'm not leaving her to rot on this floor," Reagan decided pushing Amy out of the way before scooping up Jack's limp body. She turned a few times trying to decide where to put Jack before heading toward the stairs.
"Where are you going!?" Amy hissed.
"To bury her."
"Now!? We are literally surrounded by zombies! Reagan!"
"Only around the front. Plus it's still light out, they don't do well in light. We have time." Reagan said blankly descending the stairs and walking toward the back of the house.I
It took an just over an hour to dig a decent hole, one deep enough that wouldn't attract rabid wolves to Jack's rotting corpse.
Reagan kneeled beside Jack and removed her dog tags - adding them to the collection that she had accumulated. She removed Jack's gun and ID handing them to Amy before shrugging Jack's body out of her leather jacket and trying it around her waist.
"Rea what are you doing?"
"This was her favourite jacket. She would be pissed to know I buried her in it and let it go to waste."
Reagan gently rolled Jack's body in the hole before diligently refilling the hole with soil.
"Do you want to say a few quick words? I think we still have time." Amy said her eyes darting around taking in the darkness that was starting to envelope them.
"Jack you were infuriating, you never agreed with me, always beat me at target practise and you kicked my ass whenever we sparred. But you were my best friend and I'll miss you."
When Reagan turned toward Amy she found her sitting on the ground sobbing into her hands.
"I can't do this again anymore Rea. I really can't."
"You have to. We have to," Reagan insisted pulling Amy to her feet and pushing her inside the house.
"Okay, what's the plan!?" Amy asked as she peered out the window at the approaching horde of zombies taking advantage of the dark and swiftly making their way toward the house.
Reagan smiled to herself. That was the thing about Amy, no matter how many tragedies they went through, no matter how much she thought she couldn't continue, she always managed somehow. And that's how they were going to get through this.
"We're going to the attic."
A/N: Your OTP is in a small farm house that is surrounded by zombies. Person A argues that they should go down to the basement. Person B argues that they should stay upstairs. BONUS: Person C points out that the attic is the best choice.