Real Monsters

by Visambros

How do you hold onto your humanity when you were never that good to begin with? How do you keep your sanity from shattering when it was already fractured? This is the story of Nate's attempt to survive the apocalypse from Day 2 to Day 41. Improved version of The Walking Dead: Real Monsters fanfic.

3. Hatred Of Thieves

This game series adapts to the choices you make.

The story is tailored by how you play.

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Red, yellow, blue, and white petals atop of green stems flooded Nate's vision. The soft breeze made them sway back and forth like lazy, skirt less hula girls. He barely felt their movements, though the ones directly around him kept brushing his body. The air was perfumed with the scent of sweet and musky roses, which was odd since none of the flowers were roses. Maybe it only smelt that way because their collective scent was weak, so much so that it seemed like his nose was picking the smell up from far away. All of his senses felt distanced from his body the longer he laid there.

Nate recognized the flowers from the small memorial he'd seen on Vaughan's street a little over five weeks ago, the one for the victim of a hit-and-run. Vaughan told him that he hoped no more violence would come to his neighbourhood. Now they lived in a world where they could only wish for the simple days of random hit-and-runs.

Nate lifted himself off the ground. He was standing in an endless field of flowers. The field met the pinkish afternoon sky with no disruption, with the sole exception of a building to Nate's right.

(o) Look at building

"…I feel sick." Nate's voice was a low, nauseated grumble. The vocal outburst; brought about by a stomach cramp and the overwhelming sadness that started in his brain and leaked down into his chest; was mindlessly expelled from him. Nate clamped his lips together to keep both bile and any more words from exiting his mouth. To his knowledge, he was the only person in this peaceful yet desolate world. Yet he still wanted to keep something, whatever that something was, from finding out that he was in the plain.

Nate shook his head. As puzzling as the negative reaction he had to the building was, it was useless to ponder over it. It wasn't important. Charlie and Vaughan were off somewhere and he needed to find them.

Nate turned his back to the building. A hoard of psychos greeted him. He froze. There were hundreds of them; twitching, drooling, and groaning in makeshift harmony. A flash of thought, panicked and unbelieving, raced through his mind as he wondered how the hell so many were able to sneak up on him.

Then he spun towards the building and ran.

/!\ Get away from the hoard!

The hoard chased after him. Their groans grew louder and more furious with every stride Nate took. He reached for his gun in the back of his pants, pulled it out, and shot at the psychos.

(o) (o) (o) (o) (o)

Streams of blood jetted from the heads of the creatures he managed to hit. Aiming was difficult, angling his body to shoot at the hoard while he sprinted away made his arm shake too much, but keeping distance between the psychos and himself was worth the bad aim. At the speed Nate was running, he could get into the building and create a barricade before-

A hand, so cold that he felt the chill through his jeans, grabbed Nate's ankle mid stride and yanked down. He screamed as he was forced face first into the ground. Far off pain sprinkled his chest and face. Recovering from the fall as quickly as he could, Nate turned on his side to look at the thing that grabbed him.

It was Anya. Her pale skin made the dark circles under her eyes pop out. Her hair, both the healthy parts and the strands around the bald spot, was crispy and frizzled like it had been burned. Blood trailed down the corners of her mouth and pooled around her stomach. No time was granted for Nate to properly react to this when Anya's bitter, furious voice rang out.

"You murderer." She snarled. "I was scared. I thought he was bitten. I just wanted to protect everyone!" The grip on his ankle tightened.

| I didn't want that to happen |
| You were going to kill Vaughan |
| Get off of me now |
| … |

"You were going to get Vaughan killed, you stupid cunt!" Nate said. "Your death is your fault!" The hoard of psychos advanced. Anya roared.

(o)

Anya's face collapsed inward when Nate shot her. Chunks of brain matter gushed out of the back of her head. Her hand released its hold on him, falling limply to the ground like the rest of her body. She lay on the ground in the same position she had been in when she died over five weeks ago. Nate staggered to his feet. The distance between him and the psychos were shorter than it had been before. Nate darted off.

(o)(o)(o)(o)

Only one bullet missed its target during his second assault on them. Two pairs of cold hands seized both of his legs and pulled him down just as he was halfway to the building. Nate tried to shake them off. He freed himself long enough to turn on his back before the hands grabbed him again.

Guatier's and Hanna's eyes were greyed over and nearly bulging out of their sockets. Their skin was paler than Anya's had been. Blood seeped out of the wound on Guatier shoulder and mixed with the blood leaking out of his and his wife's stomachs.

"Why do you have no sympathy for us?" Guatier grieved. They pulled him closer to them.

"How could you murder us and feel nothing?" Hanna moaned. Their nails dug through his pants.

| I do feel something |
| Charlie killed you two |
| Don't touch me |
| … |

"Charlie killed you both, not me!" Nate said. The smell of putrid flesh overpowered the flowers as the hoard drew near.

(o)

The force of the bullet knocked Hanna onto her back. Her body settled in the same position she was in when she died. Her wide eyes didn't close.

(o)

Nate pointed the gun at Guatier and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

"Shit!" He cried. The footsteps of the undead mob grew louder.

(o)

Nate raised his free leg and kicked Guatier in the face. He felt the older man's nose break and flatten under the heel of his foot. The man didn't let go.

(o)

Nate drew his foot back and kicked him again. The bones in the man's cheek dented inwards. He still didn't let go.

(o)

Guatier's teeth ripped from their places in his gums and flew into his mouth. The psychos were getting closer.

(o)

Nate drew his leg back and, channeling all his frantic strength, kicked Guatier in the forehead. Fragments of the man's skull impaled his brain. Guatier keeled over, a wet and painful gasp escaping him before he stilled. Nate yanked his leg from the dead man's limb grasp, got up and ran.

Stumbling on tired legs, panting hard, and refusing to look behind him, Nate sprinted the last hundred meters as fast as he could. The acceleration of his body did not allow for him to stop properly, making him slam against the building doors instead of halting in front of it. Nate ignored the dull pain in his chest. He pushed himself off the doors, grabbed the handles, and pulled. They wouldn't budge. Boards, decorated with chicken scratch writing, were nailed to the doors.

Please don't, they read.

"No." Nate meant to sound stubborn but his voice came out weak and wobbling. He turned his back to the ugly boards with their awful words. The hoard was a few feet away. Nate jolted. He loathed the idea of going back in that damned hospital, but if he did then he'd be safe from the hoard. He knew he would. Grimacing, Nate darted to the broken window on his right and jumped through.

When his feet touched the other side, he was not in the hall with the map at the end as he should have been. He was standing in front of the pharmacy. Startled, Nate looked behind him, expecting to see the window looking out to the field of flowers and the living dead. The window was gone, replaced by the corridor that led to the store.

All of his senses, which had been clouded before, were now mercilessly heightened. The litter, the dusty counters, the stale air, the bloody floors, the hazardous darkness, and the stench of rotting flesh assaulted him. Everything in the hospital seemed more real and more oppressive than anything Nate went through since the apocalypse started, but this was just a dream. It had to be a dream. He needed to wake up, and if he couldn't wake up then he needed to run. His legs shook, but his feet wouldn't move.

He pointed his flashlight that suddenly appeared in his hand at the pharmacy, waiting for the thing that he hoped he wouldn't see but knew he would. The beam of light trembled with the movement of his hand. The psycho emerging from the store intensified the tremors. The hospital gown it wore, already stained from past traumas, was now stained with a fresher blotch of red, originating from the bloody mess in its hands.

| Wake up |
| Let her go |
| Stay away |
| … |

"Stay away from me." Nate's shaking voice wouldn't go higher than a whisper. A chunk of meat fell out of the psycho's mouth as it smiled at him, showcasing broken teeth filled with fleshy food debris. Red drool trickled down its face and fell on the messy thing in its arms. The thing that used to be a baby.

Tendons hung from the shoulder where an arm had been. A chunk of flesh was taken out of the other arm. The lower torso of the baby had been completely devoured, splitting the infant into two halves. Her legs did not move since they no longer received any signals from the brain. Their disfigurement, which no amount of flexibility could rectify, made it impossible for them to be useful even if they were getting messages from the brain. The undead infant growled into the air, its arm reaching up to the ceiling as if trying to reach invisible prey. Its eyes rolled thickly in its head, focusing on everything at once.

This baby's no good. The delirious thought kept repeating in Nate's head. This baby's no good, throw it out. The adult psycho walked forward, strides more confident than any undead monster he'd seen. It stretched its arms toward Nate as if offering the infant as some macabre gift. The baby turned its head towards him and reached for him with its remaining arm.

Nate screamed.

—
Achievement Unlocked!
Dreams Aren't Made Of These
—

---

No song was playing in the CD player. The hum of the engine, the tires rolling across the pavement, and Vaughan's occasional hisses of pain were the only noises that were made in the truck. Nate's grip on the steering wheel cut off the circulation in his hands and made his knuckles go white. Little attention was paid to the scenery around him. His eyes where fixed on the road ahead. He had no destination in mind; anywhere far away from the nightmare he had was good enough.

The muscles in Vaughan's face tensed and twitched in his cupped hands as he waited for his migraine to go away. Vaughan groaned something in Japanese. Charlie muttered a reply to him, not turning from the window as she did so. Whatever she said caused Vaughan to frown at her through parted fingers, but he gave no retort. Slowly, the pain lessened. Vaughan sighed and leaned back into his seat. He took his glasses off his lap and placed them on his face.

"…Are you alright?" Vaughan asked after a slight rest from his migraine. Nate spared him a quick glance, unsure if he was being talked to, and looked away when he saw Vaughan was looking at him. "You look like you haven't slept."

| Worry about yourself |
| I'm fine |
| Sleeping is stupid |
| … |

"I did sleep, it just looks like I didn't because sleep is stupid. Fuckin' hate it." Nate grumbled. "I ain't sleepin' again."

(?) Charlie and Vaughan will remember that

"…Okay." Vaughan said. "I'm just concerned. You've kind of been like this for two days now."

"Know what I found out two days ago?" Charlie spoke up. She pressed her back against the passenger's door and glared at Vaughan. "I found out that you had cancer." Though the joints in his hands groaned in protest, Nate tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He also began grinding his teeth with the same amount of force.

Vaughan sighed, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose. "Charlie please-"

"I still can't believe that you didn't tell me you were sick!" Charlie's face contorted into a nasty snarl as she talked to him. "I'm your girlfriend! Ya don't just hide shit like that from me!"

Vaughan ran his fingers through his hair. "I was going to tell-"

"You keep on sayin' that. I was gonna tell you, I was gonna tell you." Charlie interrupted. "But more than a month passed and you still didn't say a goddamn word! No one disrespects me like that." She slapped his arm.

| Shut the fuck up |
| You should have told her |
| Don't be so hard on him |
| … |

It had been nothing but arguments, both in English and Japanese, and tense silences for the past two days. Nate stayed out of them as best he could, distancing himself mentally when their physical proximity wouldn't allow for them to part from each other. But he had enough. He was sick of the fighting and the bad vibes that hooked into their brains and skin, making their minds blaze with disputes and muscles constantly taunt in expectation of them.

"Shut the fuck up!" Nate screamed. Vaughan and Charlie flinched away from him. He pealed his eyes away from the road to scowl at them. "You two are so annoying with your bullshit! Shut up!" Vaughan's shoulders dropped as he looked away from him. He stared at the window closest to Charlie.

(?) Charlie and Vaughan will remember that

"Oh fuck you Nate!" Charlie snapped after recovering from the initial shock of his screaming. "You knew about Vaughan being sick too and you didn't say anything to me either!"

"But you know now," Nate growled. "So shut the fuck up!" If he drove the truck into a tree, could he somehow do it in a way that would eject both his irritating friends through the windshield while still making the truck drivable? At this point, he thought it would be worth the trouble to try.

"Or what? You gonna try to choke me again?" Charlie demanded. Vaughan slowly turned his head from the window and stared at Nate, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"You choked Charlie?" There were multiple layers of hurt and confusion in the younger man's voice. The signal from Nate's brain to his mouth wasn't fast enough, making the latter open before the former was able to tell it that he had neither the tolerance nor energy to explain himself to Vaughan. His mouth snapped shut. No longer giving a damn about crashing into something or swerving off the road, Nate pressed his forehead against the steering wheel and let out a loud sigh.

"God, I need a drink." A hint of desperation, subtle and low, was in Nate's voice.

"There are alcoholics in your family." Charlie said. "You-"

"Fuckin' shut up Charlie." Exhaustion replaced the anger that had been in his tone.

Charlie huffed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"…Y-you, um, shouldn't drive like that." Vaughan told him. Nate didn't need to look at him to know he was fidgeting nervously in place, but he glared at him from behind his arm anyways. Making eye contact with frustrated eyes made Vaughan look away and stare at his lap, still squirming. Nate sighed again and sat up.

Silence, awkward and unwelcomed, once again enveloped the truck. Not wanting to go through another hour of strained quiet, Nate reached for the play button on the CD player. His finger paused just as it was about to touch the button and start whatever he'd left in the player when Vaughan, distracted by something outside, completely turned his body around to stare at whatever was fading from view. Both Nate and Charlie stared at him as he slowly sat back in place.

"…We just passed someone with a box of alcohol." Vaughan said. Nate slowed the truck to a stop.

"You did?" Nate asked.

"Yeah." Vaughan said. "He just turned into a trail back there."

| And? |
| We could trade with them |
| Are you sure they're real? |
| … |

"We could trade with'm. Get some alcohol that way." Nate said. He didn't ask for any details and he didn't need them. He was so desperate for a drink that it didn't occur to him that Vaughan might be hallucinating. Nate needed something to take the edge off and allow him to forget about psychopathy and nightmares and dead children. He turned the truck around and looked for the trail.

"We shouldn't do that." Charlie warned. "Food and supplies are more important than alcohol."

| We're not giving everything away |
| More important than alcohol? |
| That's true |
| … |

"We ain't gonna give everything away." Nate said irritably. "Don't get your tubes tied up in a knot." He stopped the truck next to a wide dirt path. Vaughan didn't say anything so he assumed that it was the one the box of alcohol went through. With an indignant growl, Charlie opened her mouth to reply to Nate when Vaughan spoke up.

"We should get the alcohol." He said. It was the way Vaughan said it; a mischievous, edgy half laugh that clutched his words; which made Nate and Charlie stare at him with surprise.

| Two against one Charlie |
| Then it's settled |
| Seriously? |
| … |

"Seriously?" Nate asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "You're agreeing with me? Thought ya be more practical like Charles and agree with her." Something about his friend's laugh that followed his comment bothered Nate, but he didn't know why. Vaughan took off his glasses. He wiped them clean and gave Nate a sneaky sideways glance.

"Fuck yeah, I agree." Vaughan chimed. "We haven't had something to drink in a loooong time and let's face it, after all the shit we've been through we deserve to get wasted. If the guy is dangerous, we'll just beat him up right?" Vaughan put back on his glasses and flashed Nate a smile. If the words said hadn't unsettled him, the smile would've rectified that. It was so wrong that smile, Vaughan's face wasn't supposed to be capable of looking so malicious. Charlie was staring at her boyfriend like she'd never seen him before.

"Let's procure ourselves some alcohol!" Vaughan cheered. He took hold of his bow and bag of arrows, climbed over his girlfriend, opened the door, and went out. The two of them watched him go.

| What are we waiting for? |
| He seems happy |
| Vaughan's acting weird |
| … |

"So… you noticed that he's actin' weird right?" Nate asked. "Like it ain't just me?"

"No… I noticed too." Charlie said.

"What the fuck? He wasn't acting like that a minute ago." Nate said. "And did he swear? The only time I've ever heard him swear was when he was learnin' to speak English, and even then it was only because I managed to trick him into doin' it."

"I don't think I've ever seen him act that way." Deep thought made Charlie's voice withdrawn. Nate shook his head and got out of the truck. Vaughan's odd personality change could be dealt with later. There was a bottle or two waiting for him and that was far more important.

---

Dirt crunched under the soles of their shoes. The manmade path laid flat against the bumpy foliage of the forest. Bugs whined in their ears, complaining about their small, insignificant lives in a language they couldn't understand but annoyed them regardless. A wave of the hand did little to deter the bugs, flying off to avoid the blow and returning moments later.

Vaughan led Nate and Charlie forward, tripping every so often on invisible obstacles and the spring in his step that vastly contrasted the solemn mood he had earlier. He, like Nate, carried a box of supplies in his arms. Charlie's hands were free due to her refusing to give any of their useful goods to exchange for alcohol. Her stubbornness irked Nate, but he made sure both he and Vaughan brought enough to make up for what Charlie wouldn't bring.

"What if these people are bandits?" Charlie grumbled.

"There's more than one guy now?" Nate asked.

"No one travels alone anymore." Charlie said. He could've done without the 'you're stupid' look she gave him as she said this. "He probably has a crew of bandana wearin' assholes with'm. If they're just a group of guys then that's fine, but if they're bandits then we're gonna be in a very worrying situation."

| We'll deal with it |
| You never stop bitching do you? |
| You'll need to be careful |
| … |

"If they are bandits then you'll need to be careful. They might try to take advantage of you." Nate told her.

(?) Charlie noticed your concern

"…I don't gotta worry 'bout shit." Charlie said after a short pause. "I can kick anyone's ass. 'Sides, bandits only force themselves on women, and apparently, I look like a boy. Don't smile you idiot." To her annoyance, Nate smiled anyways.

Vaughan stopped walking. Nate and Charlie followed suit. The path continued on into a clearing where a camp lay. Several tents were positioned around the clearing, a table rested close to where the three stood, and a fire with a pot positioned on top sat in the center of the were seven people in the area; talking to each other, sitting by the fire, reading, and taking turns drinking out of bottles of alcohol. Nate's attention was fixated on the bottles. He didn't take much notice of the people until Charlie hissed beside him.

"Fuck, they're bandits." She said. Nate pealed his eyes from the bottles and looked at the men. The majority of them were bandana-wearing assholes. But that didn't necessarily mean… oh who was he kidding? They were fucking bandits.

"Well… shit." Nate sighed.

—
Achievement Unlocked!
Well… Shit
—

"Who the hell are they?" One of them asked. The group of men stopped what they were doing at the inquiry of their fellow bandit. Six heads slowly followed his gaze until they saw the three standing there. Charlie tensed. Vaughan didn't, which surprised Nate.

| We just want to trade |
| How are you doing? |
| [Run] |
| … |

"We don't want no trouble." Nate said. "We're just lookin' for a trade." He would've raised his hands in the air if it weren't for the box he was holding. A few of the bandits looked at a man who Nate assumed was the leader of the group. He decided to direct his comments to him. "So if you could just-"

"Kill them." The offhanded way the leader said this made Nate not realize the gravity of what was said at first.

"…What?" Nate didn't have time to dwell on the sudden, cold sentence they were given. Three of the masked men advanced towards them. The others looked for their crossbows. Nate dropped his box, pulled out his gun, and shot one of them in the chest. The bandit screamed, clutching his chest as he fell.

"Run!" Nate screamed. He turned and bolted back up the trail without looking to see if Charlie and Vaughan would follow. He heard another box drop and four pairs of feet follow after him.

"Motherfuckers!" The leader screamed. "Get them!" A blur of green and brown flew past Nate as his legs kicked hard off the ground in their effort to bring him back to the main road. The rowdy cries of the bandits grew louder, overpowering his panting breath. Arrows whooshed passed his body. He nearly face planted after one went between his legs. For a horrible moment he thought he was back in his dream with the hoard of psychos and the field of flowers, only the flowers were trees and the psychos had pulses and screamed 'ya'll gonna die assholes!' while they shot projectiles at him.

"We won't make it to the truck! We have to confront them!" Charlie's shout snapped him out of his alarm.

"Damn it!" Nate said, partly out of breath. He dove behind a tree. Charlie whipped herself around another one to his left. Vaughan, almost tripping over his feet, went to the tree to Nate's right. The bandits advanced.

"We have to keep movin' and keep cover!" Nate ordered. Vaughan and Charlie nodded.

| Go! |
| Vaughan you have to kill them! |
| Be careful Charlie! |
| … |

"Charlie, you don't got a gun, so be careful!" Nate said.

(?) Charlie noticed your concern

"Yeah, I know." She responded impatiently. Nate dug his nails into the bark and aimed his gun at the hoard of men.

"Go!" He yelled.

/!\ Kill the bandits! Use the directional buttons to hide behind trees and protect yourself from enemy fire!

Nate ground his teeth together and fired.

(o)(o)(o)

A bandit directly in front of him flew backwards when the bullet hit his head. The other two shots missed his next target, a man to his right. Vaughan and Charlie spread out and away from him.

Nate moved to his left. Two arrows zoomed passed his head.

He moved to another tree. More arrows missed him. Charlie stabbed one of the bandits as he passed by her tree. Vaughan shot two in the shoulder and was aiming to shoot another one. Nate looked away from them and aimed.

(o)(o)(o)(o)

Nate shot the two that had been hit by Vaughan's arrows.

"There's two left!" Nate cried. Nate's cry made the leader's charge falter. Before the leader ducked behind a tree, Nate could see him look around wide eyed, as if he hadn't realized until that moment that almost all his men were dead. The last of his crew ran toward him, but before the man got close, the leader met him half way, seized his arm, and dragged him speeding back to the camp. Nate chased them, pushing his body off any trees in his way. Charlie called after him. He didn't hear it. His mind burned. Like hell they were going to get away after they tried to kill the three of them.

(o)

He shot the leader in the back just as the bandit was a few feet away from the clearing. The man released his hold on the other bandit and collapsed face first on the dirt path. A bloom of red stuck his torn shirt onto his skin. The leader struggled to his hands and knees. He tried to crawl back to the camp, swearing and panting heavily.

Nate slammed his foot on his back when he reached him. The side of the leader's face was forced against the grass and dirt.

"Don't you fucking dare shoot me!" Spit flew out of the leader's mouth. "Don't you fucking da-"

(o)

Blood, brains, and skull fragments gushed out of the man's head. His legs and arms moved in an erratic death dance. Nate pressed more weight down. The body still spasmed.

(o)

"Fuck you." He snarled.

(o)

"Fuck you."

(o)

"Fuck you!" Nate knew that the man was already dead. He knew that it was only the nerves firing around in the body that was making it jerk around. None of that knowledge helped him release the trigger.

"Stop-"

(o)

"Fucking-"

(o)

"-Moving!"

(o)(o)(o)

A scream made him pause. The cry, now muffled groans, had come from the last bandit Vaughan was now kneeling on. When had Vaughan past him? Nate looked back down at the hole filled body. The last sparks of muscle activity twitched the fingers in a bashful goodbye. Nate stepped on the dead man as he walked towards Vaughan and the bandit.

His friend had one leg bend on top of the bandit's chest and the other on the ground beside him. An arrow he held in his left hand swayed back and forth in front of the bandit's eye. His other hand covered the bandit's mouth. Gleeful sadism swam in his eyes. The man beneath Vaughan seemed strong enough to push him off, but fear fixed him in place.

| Take out both his eyes |
| What are you doing? |
| Get off of him |
| … |

The combination of his lack of concern for the bandit and curiosity mixed with general unease over Vaughan's actions made Nate continue to stand where he was, watching the both of them. He'd step in if the bandit tried anything, but for the first time in a while, Nate thought Vaughan would be able to handle himself.

"It wouldn't be hard to take your eye out." Vaughan almost sang the words. "I could stab the arrow in, twist, and pull it out. Pop!" He giggled at the bandit's stifled pleas. The thief shook his head, tears forming in the corners of his wide eyes.

| Stop Vaughan |
| Leave him alone |
| Do it already |
| … |

Nate waited. Vaughan raised the arrow. The bandit struggled beneath him. Vaughan froze. The sadistic tint left his eyes. The smile fell from the younger man's face.

"…Oh my God." Horror grew in his voice. The malevolence was gone. The arrow slipped from his fingers. "O-oh my God. I am… I-I'm so sorry, I-" He moved his leg off the bandit. The man underneath him jerked. Nate thought he would grab for the arrow, but the bandit only pushed himself away from Vaughan and bolted. Nate pointed his gun at the fleeing bandit and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked.

"Shit." Nate grunted. The bandit ran into the woods and out of sight.

"Nate." Charlie said as she entered the clearing. Nate looked at her. "The only reason why I'm not incredibly pissed off at you right now is because I believe finding this camp was worth dodging some arrows. Bandits rob people all the time, I'm sure we're standing in front of some very useful shit. But," She stood close to Nate now, glaring up at him. "If it turns out I'm wrong, I will fucking kill you for putting us in danger again."

| No you won't |
| We're going to find lots of stuff |
| Don't threaten me |
| … |

"You're not killing shit." Nate said, frowning back at her.

"Don't test me." Charlie retorted. "Now let's get the supplies and get out." She purposely bumped into his shoulder as she passed him and made her way to the table. Fucking bitch. If his hands hadn't pussied out on him for God knows what reason, she would've been fucking dead already. He glowered at her as she went to Vaughan. They had a quick conversation in Japanese before she continued her way to the table. Vaughan cupped his face in his hands.

(o) Talk to Vaughan

The sounds of his hard, shaky breath echoed dully off his palms. He slid his hands down his face when he heard Nate getting closer.

"H-hi." Vaughan said. The corners of his mouth rose up in an attempt to smile. After a moment they twitched back down.

| That was different |
| Are you all right? |
| Hi |
| … |

"Hi." Nate replied. Vaughan tried to smile again.

"A-about what just happened…" Vaughan said. "I-I don't, um… I mean…" He wrapped an arm around himself.

| Just tell me |
| I don't care why it happened |
| You don't have to tell me |
| … |

"C'mon Chopsticks, spit it out." Nate said. Vaughan inhaled, held it, and let the air out in a low hiss.

"I-I don't understand! O-one minute I was f-fine and- and then…" He took off his glasses and ran a hand through his hair.

"Didja blackout?" Nate asked. Vaughan shook his head.

"N-no, I didn't. I was fully aware of what I was doing. I just didn't care." He told him. That got an eyebrow raise from Nate. "I-I… I-I d-don't know why I acted like that…"

| That doesn't seem so bad |
| It's mood swings |
| Maybe it was a one-time thing |
| … |

"…Sooooo you're having mood swings then." Nate suggested. "Ain't that another symptom of brain cancer?"

"…It is." Vaughan said after a pause. "But… I-I don't think you can call what happened a mood swing. Normal mood swings is going from being sad to happy. I was going to gorge that man's eye out! I even laughed about it!" Vaughan's glasses trembled in his hand. He bit his lip, watery eyes staring at Nate.

"M-maybe you're right," Vaughan continued. His voice was thick with fear and wavered. "Maybe I acted like that because I'm sick. But what if it isn't the cancer? What if the apocalypse is making me lose my mind?"

| Then you won't be alone |
| It's the cancer |
| We can't stop the apocalypse |
| … |

"It's the cancer." Nate told him. It had to be the cancer. Tumours could be removed. This bullshit apocalypse might never end.

(?) Vaughan will remember that

"Maybe." Vaughan said hesitantly. He looked away, eyes downcast.

"…Let's just look for supplies." Nate sighed. Vaughan nodded. He placed his glasses back on and made his way to one of the tents.

Nate turned his face up to the sky and frowned at the clouds. Charlie was completely ruthless and cold, he was probably a psychopath, and now the cancer was fucking up Vaughan's head.

"I wonder how long it'll take before we kill each other." Nate murmured to himself. He looked back at the camp and walked forward.

(o) Look at boxes

Most of the boxes piled around the camp were closed. The few that were opened had an assortment of supplies in them. Nate picked up a can from one of the boxes and shook it. It was full.

"All these boxes make it look like they were getting ready to leave." Vaughan said from the tent.

"They didn't look like they were packing up when we got here." Nate told him.

"Maybe they were taking a break?" Vaughan suggested. Nate shrugged.

(o) Look at pot

Nate heard boiling. He picked up a stick and used it to knock over the lid.

"It's just water." Nate said after looking inside. "Probably tryin' to purify it or make soup. I haven't had hot soup in a long time…"

(o) Look at table

Nate walked to the table. More boxes were stacked on top of it. Nate was about to look through them when a loud noise startled him. He jumped back. Charlie had activated a propane torch. She looked at the blue flame escaping from the top with an intense expression that didn't match what she was doing before turning it off and placing it back on the table.

(o) Talk to Charlie

Charlie kept her eyes on the table.

| There's supplies here |
| About blanking out… |
| Vaughan's back to normal |
| Exit |

"There are a lot of useful things here." Nate said.

"So it seems." Charlie replied. Her tone was flat but at least she was trying to be civil.

| About blanking out… |
| Vaughan's back to normal |
| Exit |

"So…" Nate almost didn't want to ask, the numb curiosity he once had now turned to a mild disquiet over the subject, but it had been bothering him for a while. "Y'know how I kind of blanked out a few days ago?"

"What about it?" A barely noticeable tenseness came over Charlie but she tried to play it off as irritation.

"Did that ever happen before?" Nate asked.

"…It did. After the bullshit with the casket." She said.

"When did I snap out of it?" Nate thought he knew when, but he asked her just to make sure.

"When you were at my place, just before I slept with you." She said. Nate rubbed his forehead. It was possible for him to make a more specific frame of reference for how long he'd been out of it, except that would've involved thinking too long about that day. So instead, Nate skimmed through that scarification of memory and decided that, because it had been mid-day when the casket fell and dark out when Charlie's words finally broke through to him, he'd been brain dead for about eight hours.

"Y'know that overused saying, 'your eyes are the window to your soul' or some shit?" Charlie continued. "Can't say if that's true for everyone, but it's true for you. So when you blank out like that, it's really fucking creepy because your eyes look dead."

| Have a thing for guys with dead eyes? |
| I didn't know that |
| Were you scared of me? |
| … |

"That's why you slept with me?" Nate asked. "Like guys with dead eyes?"

"No idiot." Charlie murmured. "I wanted you to stop being sad, you ungrateful piece of shit."

"…You sure ya don't have a thing for dead dudes?" Nate asked after a pause. Charlie smacked him hard on the arm.

"Shut up." She growled. "Fuckin' two years of my life…"

"What?" Nate asked.

"Nothin'." Charlie said. Nate didn't like where the conversation was going, so he let her comment drop.

| Vaughan's back to normal |
| Exit |

"Vaughan's back to normal." He said.

"I know. I talked to him." She said. "Thank fucking God for that."

| Exit |

Nate walked around to the side of the table and stopped when a dress caught his eye.

(o) Look at dress

It had been white at one point, now the cleanest parts of the dress were a dull brown. Patches of caked dirt and drying blood, many in the shape of handprints, covered the dress in erratic patterns. A part of him tried to hold on to the first thought that came to mind; the bandits had a weird, unhygienic, cross dressing orgy; but there would've been more dresses laying around if that were the case and he knew better than to believe that. A woman was raped. Maybe she had been kidnaped, or the camp was hers before the bandits overtook it, but she was raped and the dress belonged to her.

Knowing this did not distress Nate. Of course he knew rape was awful and that the bandits were evil bastards for doing it, but that was all. There was no urge to kill them a second time and aside from a twinge of sadness felt for the girl, Nate was mostly indifferent. It didn't matter that she might've been a virgin, or that they probably took multiple turns on her, or that the abuse might've killed her it they didn't personally do it themselves.

And that gave him an intense amount of guilt. Nate didn't understand how he could feel bad for not feeling bad. Why couldn't he transfer his emotions to their proper place so he could react to things like a normal human being?

"You know, if you dressed more like a chick people wouldn't mistake you for a dude." Directing this question at Charlie in context of what he just saw was highly inappropriate, not that she would know. But asking her this distanced himself from the crime the dress declared and the mental illness he saw reflecting back at him through the vile handprints.

"Do you know that if you weren't an irritating dick people wouldn't be planning to murder you in your sleep?" Charlie mimicked his tone with artificial lightness. "Fuck off Nate." Not wanting to be near the dress anymore, Nate fucked off. Vaughan didn't look like he was doing anything at the moment, standing idly next to a tent, so Nate made his way to him.

(o) Talk to Vaughan

"Find anything Vee?" Nate asked.

"Yeah…" Vaughan didn't feel the need to elaborate however. Sad, tired eyes glued their gaze to the trampled grass below their feet. "When my…"

"Hm? When your what?" Nate asked.

"W-when… when my mother got sick and she refused to go to the hospital, I had to take care of her because no one else would." Vaughan said. "I was fine at first, but… I-I, um, I got mean after a while. I was bitter and short-tempered and angry all the time. Partly because I got pretty burnt out, but it was all the stuff I had to go through to take care of her too. I had to clean her after she'd… soiled herself, and I had to suffer through her mental deterioration. She'd call me horrible names and scream at things that weren't there."

"And I know it wasn't her fault, she could help being sick and afraid, but I… I ended up hating her so much. I-I mean, how aw-awful is that? Hating your own ill mother? Wanting her to… t-to…" Vaughan bit down on his lower lip.

| You're different now |
| It doesn't matter what you did before |
| I can't imagine you being mean |
| … |

There was nothing Nate could say that wouldn't sound meaningless or dismissive to him. Not that Nate knew what to say anyways.

"Everything I've done, every choice I've made, was always aligned in relation to having good morals." Vaughan continued. "I was a good person before, and after she died and I realized how terrible I'd been, I swore I'd never act like that again. I tried to be good… but I-I almost g-gorged a man's eye out…" What if the apocalypse is making me lose my mind? What a question. What a very scary question, and not one easily swept aside. It explained where all this talk about his mother came from. Of course he'd still be concerned, especially if he had been hostile in one point of his life as he claimed.

| The cancer made you do it |
| They deserved it |
| Don't talk about this |
| … |

"You never tried to turn an asshole's eyeball into soup man." Nate told him. "The cancer did."

Vaughan frowned. "But-"

"No, no buts." Nate cut him off. "It ain't you. Not the real you anyways. The real you is as peaceful as Gandhi's and Martin Luther King Jr.'s gay love child." There was a confused pause before Vaughan broke out in short, amused laughter. The younger man hadn't laughed in days. None of them had.

"What?" Vaughan giggled.

Nate smiled. "You heard me."

"Oh my god Nate." Vaughan let out a few more chuckles before sighing. "I haven't checked all the tents yet, so I'm sure there's more stuff for us to find."

Nate nodded. "Okay."

(o) Look at alcohol

A dozen bottles, standing in rows of four with kitsch pride, were held in a box next to the tent. Nate smiled.

"Fucking finally." He said.

(o) Drink alcohol

Nate pulled one of the bottles from out of the box.

"Parsons' whiskey." He read. It looked cheap, just like the kind his mother drank. It was probably a dull, shit-rubbed golden brown that looked like cola to kids too young to know better. Sprawled on the couch, murmuring slurred French in her sleep, the two little boys took their unconscious parent and the unguarded, half-empty glass as the perfect opportunity to finally try the forbidden drink. Deaf to Casey's hushed complaints, Nate used his older brother rights and the privilege of being a mature ten year old in order to be the first one to try the soda.

Braving the tense atmosphere created by the possibility of their mother's eyes opening, the smallest, whitest ninjas tiptoed across the living room. They avoided the dangerous obstacles of discarded magazines, toys, and chip bags as they slowly made their way to the old wooded side table where the glass of soda and the fancy bottle it came from rested. Finally making it to the table, Nate took the bottle and Casey took the cup before they went back into the kitchen like nimble rabbits.

"Tell me how it tastes okay?" Vaughan said in the present and Casey had said in the past. Nate told his brother to stop talking so loud- it was like he wanted Ma to wake up, stupid- and tipped the glass to his lips. If he'd taken the time to savour the drink, his mouth would've sounded the alarm that no, this wasn't soda. It was a potent, liquid fire.

Adult Nate allowed the liquor to ease down his throat. It tasted like someone made it seep in shit and tar but he wasn't expecting it to taste great anyways. The whiskey had mercy on him for two seconds before it turned into a fist of molten lava and punched him in the esophagus.

"Fuck!" Nate cried through the breaks in his violent coughing fit. He nearly dropped the bottle as he hunched over and waited for the whiskey to stop assaulting his insides. Vaughan looked alarmed. Casey had been hysterical. As his brother coughed, choked, threw up, coughed, and threw up again, the poor seven year old thought Nate was going to die. Their father, awoken by Casey's wailing, stormed down the stairs and demanded to know why his two idiot children were making noise like a bunch of retards when they fucking knew he was trying to get some fucking sleep.

Casey tried to explain that Nate was dying Pa and he had to drive him to the hospital now Pa. Their father had smacked him; once for continuing to act like a goddamn invalid- because he should have more common sense than that boy, he ain't gonna die- and another for crying. Only girls and faggots cried. Their father had the common courtesy to wait until Nate caught his breath before also giving him a few good smacks for drinking alcohol, when he knew he ain't allowed to do that, and for throwing up on the floor. Their mother slept through the entire thing. Nate never drank whiskey again until he murdered a couple of bandits.

"Are you okay?" Casey had asked in the past and Vaughan asked in the present. It came out slightly different both times, since one had been trying to sound older than he was and keep from crying, while the other was worried without the added stress of a death scare. Nate wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded at the younger man. Vaughan looked less concerned when Nate straightened back out again.

"It has a kick," Nate strained out. "Like deep-throatin' a foot is a kick. Holy crap."

"So it's bad?" Vaughan asked.

"No, no, it's perfect." Nate said. "We're takin' all of it." Bad memories or not, alcohol was alcohol and he needed to drink. Vaughan looked apprehensive but didn't argue. Nate screwed the lid on the bottle and put the whiskey back into the box. He looked at the tent across from him and walked towards it.

(o) Open tent

Nate stepped inside. The subdued stench of sweat greeted him. Other than clothes, sleeping bags, and blankets, there seemed to be nothing of value. Then he saw the book.

(o) Look at book

It sat on top of a sleeping bag. Sections of the leather casing peeled away to reveal the dull hard cover underneath. Half of the spine was gone. Stray pages stuck out the edges of the book.

"Should I take it?" He asked himself. "It doesn't look very useful."

(o) Take book

"Fuck it." He said. It was reading material if nothing else. Nate didn't read much before the apocalypse, but the pursuit of freeing one's self from boredom made him do many things he didn't normally do before. He bent over, put it in his jacket pocket, and left the tent.

—
Achievement Unlocked!
Take All Their Stuff
—

---

The whiskey made the tolerable temperature outside uncomfortable by a few degrees. Heat from the sunlight beat itself down on Nate with less gentleness than what it graced Vaughan's sensitive eyes. He marked locating a pool or lake as their next destination now that they finished placing all the camp supplies in the back of the truck.

It was hard for him to believe that he had become so anxious; he hadn't been stress-prone before the apocalypse and until recently, other than worries of his mental health, he had taken everything in stride. Now he was constantly on edge. Charlie and Vaughan had no idea how bad it was, even if they could see he was tense. Taking another swig of whiskey, he briefly wondered if it was worth becoming an alcoholic if it meant he would be calm.

But no. He'd seen how much of a useless sack of crap his mother had been because she couldn't control her thirst, and how much distain his piece of shit father had for her because of it. He didn't want to be like her. He wasn't going to be like her. Self-control, though not actively practiced by him, was not a concept lost to him. He could drink as much as he wanted and not get hooked. He'd be fine.

Nate moved the bottle from his mouth and coughed. The whiskey was proving to be a bitch to get used to, and from his vast experience in dealing with bitches, he knew he would either conquer it or get his ass kicked.

"How bad are your dreams?" Vaughan asked. He stood next to him, fingers fidgeting on the side of the trunk.

"Wha…?" Nate's voice was a bit strained from the coughing fit.

"Ever since…" Vaughan paused. "Um, for two days now you've been sleeping outside instead of in the truck. A-and that's fine, but… sometimes in the middle of the night I hear you making noises in your sleep. You sound like you're in pain. And last night I heard you scream. You said that you slept, so…" Vaughan trailed off, unsure of how to continue his train of thought. Charlie turned from the supplies and looked at Nate with mild interest.

| Don't worry about me |
| Stop listening to me when I sleep |
| [Lie] Its not nightmares I'm having |
| … |

"It's not nightmares I'm havin'." Nate's voice was purposefully suggestive when he lied. He thought he could hear Charlie's eyes rolling as she walked back to the truck. Vaughan showed his momentary confusion with a short tilt of the head. Understanding came to him a few seconds later. A light blush went over his face as his eyes widened.

"Oh. Um, o-okay." Vaughan said. It must've been a Japanese thing. It was the only way Nate could explain how someone only three years younger than him, and getting action semi-regularly since the apocalypse started, could be so ill at ease when anything sex related popped up in conversation. Charlie was technically Japanese too, but she was only half of one and moved to America when she was three or something, so in his mind she didn't count.

Vaughan stayed near the back, recovering from the embarrassing 'confession', when Nate and Charlie went inside the truck. Putting the keys into the ignition, a sudden flash of words past through his mind. Drive off. Drive off before Vaughan could enter the truck. Not that Nate would abandon him; just make him sweat a little. It'd be amusing to see the look on Vaughan's face, and it'd postpose the inevitable, suffocating, tense air that would blow itself into his truck.

Vaughan walked toward the passenger door.

| Wait |
| Drive |

Before Vaughan touched the handle, Nate slammed his foot on the gas pedal. The tires screeched against the pavement. Charlie jerked in her seat. Vaughan flung his hand away from the door in surprise. The truck sped off. Charlie turned her whole body towards the back windshield and watched her startled boyfriend get smaller the farther they went.

"Nate!?" Charlie shrieked. "The fuck are you doing!?" If Nate hadn't stopped the truck then, Charlie would've lunged at him. Ignoring her wide and furious eyes, Nate wound the window down and poked his head out. Even from this distance, he could still see Vaughan's expression of dumb horror on his face.

"Nate," Charlie growled. "If you leave my boyfriend I'll-"

"Relax." He said. Taking the book out of his jacket and tossing it into her lap, Nate flicked the CD player on and blasted Queen Of Pain by The Cramps. Charlie made a startled noise when it landed on her. "I'm just havin' some fun." Calling out to Vaughan he said, "Ya better get to the truck before the psychos claw your ass!"

Vaughan turned quickly around. The undead were walking towards him, rotting arms outstretched in preparation to claw his ass. Vaughan ran, stumbling every few feet.

| Wait |
| Drive |

Nate drove another fifteen feet before Vaughan was able to reach the door.

"You're an asshole." Charlie said.

"Hell yeah I'm an asshole." Nate replied. "Wanna lick me out?"

"No." Was Charlie's flat answer. She opened the book and began reading through it with the calmness of someone who didn't have a boyfriend frantically trying to get away from undead monsters.

Nate stuck his head out the window again. "Hey Vau- Oh shit." Vaughan was bent over, gasping for air, hands on his knees and not running away from the psychos who were advancing on him. Nate reversed. A psycho's leg broke when the bumper of his truck hit it and knocked it over. Nate opened the door, grabbed a handful of Vaughan shirt, and pulled the younger man in. Vaughan let out a surprised squeak as he was placed over Charlie and Nate's legs.

"Enjoy the jog?" Nate asked after he closed the door. Vaughan let out a croaking noise in between his gasps for air that sounded like 'why'. Nate smiled and drove off.

---

The aged stone woman on top of the fountain was covered in dried shit. She held an ancient Roman style wine jug, to match her ancient Roman style clothing, which she poured out invisible water into the fountain below, looking elegant despite decorations generously given to her by birds' asses.

The water at the bottom of the fountain was free of feces as far as Nate could see, but it looked no less dirty. Litter, leaves, and pieces of clothing added to the unappealing nature of the cloudy water, but Nate supposed he wasn't any cleaner. He only wanted to cool himself down anyways. Whiskey was great, throat-kicking tendencies aside, but it heated him up like a bitch. And not the frisky, gonna-give-you-a-lap-dance kind of bitch either. More like the "I'm gonna lock you out of the house and make you wait outside in 86 degree weather because I'm pissed off at you" kind of bitch.

He stepped into the pool and laid himself down. Resting his head on a part of the base that wasn't covered in filth, his hazy mind wondered where all the maintenance workers had gone. What lazy assholes, not cleaning up the place during the apocalypse.

"Why did we stop?" Vaughan asked. Nate looked up at him. Whenever the younger man wasn't looking at the truck and around the park, he was frowning down at him.

| I was hot |
| We'll leave soon |
| [Mimic] Why did we stop? |
| … |

"I was hot." Nate said. "I saw the fountain and I thought, 'Wow! There's a place to cool off'. So I stopped and I'm here in the water now." He paused, then pointed to the statue above him. "She's hot. I'd do her if she weren't fuckin' gross. I mean some people ain't putting out no more but I still ain't into shit… pun totally intended." The drunken laugh proceeding the joke came out of the bottom of his throat and chopped out of his mouth. Vaughan took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and huffed.

"Nate, how drunk are you right now?" Vaughan asked.

| Not as much as I want to be |
| A little drunk |
| Are you my mom? |
| … |

"I'll be honest with ya." Nate slurred. "I'm a little bit drunk. Just a teeny tiny bit. Like George Shrinks drunk, or Stuart Little drunk." Did that make sense? No, it probably didn't. Not that Nate cared.

(?) Vaughan is annoyed with you

"I can't believe this." Vaughan sighed peevishly. He put back on his glasses and stretched a hand towards Nate. Nate high fived him. Vaughan sighed again and wiped the water off his hand.

"We can't stay here. I saw a man with a walkie-talkie leave from under the truck and run off. I think he might have been a bandit." Vaughan said. Nate looked past the truck, expecting to see a man running off into the distance. He didn't. "Get out of the fountain and give Charlie your keys." Vaughan waved the fingers in his hands, expecting Nate to hand them over right away.

| You're hallucinating again |
| I'm not giving you the keys |
| Let's stay here a while longer |
| … |

"You're hallucinating again." Nate told him. Vaughan tried to protest but he continued. "I know we didn't drive that far away, but a bandit couldn't have held on to the bottom of the truck for so long. 'Sides, we killed'm all." Vaughan let his arm fall to his side.

"You two killed them all." Vaughan grumbled, unsure and low. "I didn't kill anybody." He looked around the park again. Charlie stepped out of the truck. Her head was down, inspecting the pages of the book as she neared the two men.

"Vaughan." She said slowly. "I think we can find you a doctor."

"…What?" All irritation in Vaughan's voice was replaced with surprise. "本当に?" He went beside Charlie and tried to grab the book.

"はい, はい!" She snapped, moving the book out of his reach. "This journal mentions a doctor community." Nate got out of the fountain and walked to them. Charlie moved the book away from Nate when he leaned close to her. "You're going to get the pages wet!" She told him. Nate raised his hands, gave her a faux apologetic drunk smile, and leaned back.

"Here," She pointed to the paragraph in question and began reading. "Johnny's been fucking sick for a week now. He hasn't been chomped, we checked him and made sure, but he looks God-awful. I think he has the black plague or some shit. We were thinking about offing him 'cause we can't have no burdens or nothing. Dan says we should take care of him but we all told Dan to fuck off."

"Then this guy, whose an even bigger twink than fucking Dan, comes out of nowhere and asks us if we got any sick people. We were gonna blow his fucking head off. I mean who the shit just asks people if they got any sick with them? Well, the guy gets nervous and starts explaining himself. Apparently he's from some sort of doctor camp and they want to get sick people and make them well so they have a better chance to survive the apocalypse."

"Now boss-man wouldn't let me ask any questions, but I have a lot of fucking questions. How did all the doctors find each other? How did they find all the things they needed, like beds or tents or fucking meds and medical equipment or food to feed everyone? How are they running the place? Why the fuck are they still doing their jobs when the world's gone to shit!? If I were a doctor I wouldn't let no one fucking know!"

"They are doing one thing properly though. The guy said that they're not taking just anybody in. You have to have a pass to go. The guy gave the pass to boss-man and I have no idea where he put it, but now we have to pack all our stuff. Apparently we're all going to go to the doctor camp. I think he should take it over and make the doctors work for him, but what do I know? I'm just a stupid moron, right?"

Charlie closed the book. For the second time that day, Vaughan's eyes were watery, but his body had relaxed completely and he was beaming.

"I can get help." Vaughan said, his voice soft and light. He let out the most relieved laugh Nate had ever heard. "I can get help."

"You need a ticket though." Charlie reminded him. "They're ain't gonna to help you if ya go to them empty handed."

| We'll get the ticket |
| Charlie's right |
| What if it's a trap |
| … |

"We-" Nate started, and then an arrow nearly killed him. The projectile brushed past his cheek, moving fast enough to hurt without breaking the skin, before hitting the statue and bouncing off. The three of them spun around. Five bandits surrounded them, crossbows pointed at the trio, their bicycles discarded a few meters behind the truck.

"How did you miss!? Your aim fucking sucks!" One of the bandits screamed at the other. He had a walkie-talkie attached to his pants.

"I didn't mean…" The bad aim bandit trailed off. He was the one who almost lost an eye to Vaughan. Charlie looked at both of her friends, silently asking them where their weapons were. Nate reached for his gun until he remembered that he left it in the truck somewhere with Vaughan's bow and arrows. Charlie was the only one still armed. She looked at the bandits and tightened her grip on the handle.

"You." The new leader of the bandits pointed at Charlie. "Bring your knife over here." She glowered at them, and Nate was sure that Charlie wouldn't do it. She would throw herself at the thieves, screaming and swinging her knife wildly at them, and then be impaled by multiple arrows.

Maybe that happened in an alternate universe, but it didn't happen here. Instead, Charlie hesitantly lowered her knife. Before it touched the ground, the leader spoke up.

"No. I said bring it here." The leader ordered.

"…Fine." Charlie said. She walked forward. Nate and Vaughan had the same puzzled expression on their faces. Why wouldn't he want her to kick it over? The man ran the risk of getting attacked this way. Even with the other four pointing their weapons at her, carefully following her every move, she still could slit his throat before getting hurt.

She pointed the hilt at him. "Here you go, motherfu-" The leader's fist connected hard with her lower jaw. Charlie's head whipped to the side. She lost consciousness before she hit the ground.

"Charlie!" Vaughan screamed. Before he could lunge towards her, an arrow impaled the ground inches from his foot. The younger man looked hopelessly at his girlfriend and backed away. Nate glowered at the bandits. His legs juddered from locking them in place to keep himself from charging at them. The bandit who had chastised the other for missing his target picked up Charlie. Vaughan shouted something in Japanese.

"Don't shout at me in your Jap language. You're in America now. Speak English." The leader chastised. Nate's hate for the bandana-wearing son of a bitch inflamed at this comment. At that moment, he sounded exactly like his father. The one who, after overhearing the teenager slip into his native tongue, spoke to Vaughan for possibly the first time just to chastise him about where he was and how he should speak. Aggressive disappointment and racial slurs never strayed too far from his words.

"You know where to take her." The leader- he was too young to be his dad but God were their voices disgustingly similar- said. "Don't have too much fun." He turned to the other bandit and placed the knife across Charlie's body.

"Of course boss-man!" The man holding Charlie said ecstatically. Nate forced himself not to run up to him and rip his head off. The bandit got on one of the bicycles. He sat the unconscious Charlie on his lap and rode away. Vaughan's look of complete horror and anguish followed them until they were out of sight.

"The both of you. On your knees. Now." The leader demanded. Vaughan's legs gave out and he fell onto his knees. He placed trembling hands on top of his head. Nate raised his hands and eased himself to the ground. The bandits closed the distance between the two of them until their world consisted of a wall of masked men.

"Do you know what you assholes did?" The leader asked. He moved in front of Vaughan and bent over. "Well Jap? What do you think happened?" The distress and fright on his face back then was nothing compared to the expression he held now, but Vaughan's stress had bothered Nate plenty back then regardless. Not that he cared much for the kid before that incident, why would he take much interest in the exchange student living with them outside of getting some cruel amusement? But if there was ever a moment he could oppose his father, he would almost always take it. And since his father had taken to bullying the Asian kid with the strong accent, Nate was going to defend him.

The younger man didn't answer the bandit leader. Only stared straight ahead of him, focusing on nothing. Nate thought he heard him say something about his mother.

The leader straightened himself out. "I asked you a question!" He growled. The bandit raised his leg and brought his foot down hard.

(o)

Nate quickly shifted himself in front of Vaughan and took the blow to his shoulder. The pain spread across his chest. His leg brushed against the arrow on the ground as he fell back into the younger man. He grabbed onto his shoulder and hissed in pain. The haze of grief and apprehension lifted off Vaughan's eyes. He pressed a hand against Nate's back and unharmed shoulder and eased him slowly to a kneeling position. All the bandits laughed except for the one on Vaughan's right, the one who had missed Nate.

"Are you alright?" Vaughan said into his ear. It had come out as 'Ah you alu lighto' back then. His father had done nothing to physically hurt Nate. Nothing then anyways. Nate hadn't made fun of his accent that time and said he was fine. After all, his father had done worse to both him and Casey than just yelling.

His face twitched in pain but he managed to smile. "I'm kind of drunk remember?" Nate intoned. "This don't hurt too tough."

"Oh how valiant." The leader said. His sarcasm made the others, except for the bad aim bandit, laugh again. "So tell me, Sir Mordred, do you know what happened?"

| We killed your men |
| We stole from you |
| Fuck off you piece of shit |
| … |

"Fuck off you piece of sh-" Nate's snarled comeback turned into a hiss as a foot slammed dead center into his flat stomach. He kept himself from screaming in pain and outrage, though the air expelled from his lungs made the effort unnecessary. He keeled over; gasping, coughing, and feeling like he was going to vomit. Vaughan grabbed hold of Nate's shoulders again, whimpering something that he couldn't make out.

"I'll tell you what happened." The leader chimed in, withdrawing his foot. "The commotion the two of you and your half-breed friend caused back at the camp attracted skin-eaters. Notice how there were only five of us that came to get you? There used to be more. But when we went back to the camp we were taken by surprise. Many of us fucking died." The other bandits grunted in agreement. Nate slowly eased himself up again. The leader hovered over the two men on the ground. A sadistic glow glinted his eyes.

"Here's what we're going to do." The leader continued, his voice soft with feign kindness. "We're going to beat the shit out of the both of you. Then we're going to kill you. After that, we'll take our stuff back and meet up with your friend." He paused and then added offhandedly. "I wasn't quite sure whether the half-breed really was a chick when I made her hand the knife to me. I'm still not so sure, but I guess Harvey can tell us when we get back."

| I'm going to kill you |
| Leave us alone |
| You motherfucker |
| … |

"I'm goin' to kill you." Nate glowered.

"Oh, really?" The leader said, tilting his head at him. The bandit bent over Nate until their faces were inches apart. "And how are you going to do that?" From the day his father decided to pick on Vaughan, Nate took it upon himself to protect the foreign kid from bullies like he did with Casey. He ended up beating the shit out of a few assholes for the flimsy Asian. Not his dad though. Never his dad. Because, whether the person under his charge was an exchange student or his own brother, he never could physically stand up to the bastard.

(o)

But this man wasn't his dad.

Nate yanked the arrow from the ground, faced the head forward, and stabbed it into the leader's eye. His father's voice squealed like a bloated pig. The other bandits froze. Vaughan made a pained whimpering sound, voice breaking with the ghost of puberty's past, and clasped his hands over his ears. Nate grabbed the back of the man's head, and with a roar he forced the arrow into his brain. The leader made a sound that was absurdly close to a burp and then ceased screaming or moving all together. Nate pushed him and the leader fell down like a bag of stones.

"Holy shit." The bad aim bandit said. His words snapped the others' paralysis in half. Their weapons, once lowered by shock, now whipped upward in Nate's direction.

(o)

Nate lunged at one of the bandits. He seized the fucker's arm and twisted it behind his back. The man screamed in pain. Nate wrapped an arm around the bandit's neck and forced the man to stand in front of him before the other one began firing. The bad aim bandit didn't move.

Nate dodged the arrows, shifting his head from side to side.

The human shield in his arms began pulling away from him.

««Q»»

Nate's hold on him tightened. He growled, pulling his shield back. The fellow thief moved his bow erratically in an attempt to follow Nate's movements without hitting the other bandit.

[E]

Nate gave a sharp tug at the bandit's arm and the man jumped back up. The fellow thief released an arrow. It impaled the man's eye. His shield went limp in Nate's grasp. Nate dropped him.

"Fuck!" The other bandit cursed. He produced another arrow and drew it back. Before he could fire it, Vaughan leaped to his feet and shoved him over. The bandit stumbled back. He tried to keep balance and failed. The side of his head hit the truck before he fell to the ground. The bandit grunted and lost consciousness. Trails of blood oozed down his face.

Vaughan stared blank-eyed at the man he shoved, as if his mind were trying to process the fact that he even moved at all. Slowly, he looked around at his surroundings. His gaze swayed back and forth between the former leader of the bandits and one of his men, both of who now sported identical arrows protruding out of their faces. Finally processing everything that happened, Vaughan recoiled.

"I will not throw up. I will not throw up." Vaughan repeated desperately. He wrapped an arm around his stomach and covered his mouth. Nate ignored him, attention now savagely fixed on the remaining bandit who stared back at him with eyes half guilty, half frightened, all round and stupidly large.

"H-hey man." The bad aim bandit stammered. He raised his hands in the air, dropping his crossbow. "Hey I-" Nate darted towards the bandit. He thought he might've seen a tooth fly out the second after he punched him in the face. The man shrieked through his short trip towards the ground, stopping only when he landed on his back with a hard thud. Before he had a chance to get up, Nate stomped on his stomach. Bad aim let out a pained 'oof' sound that would've been comical if not for current circumstances. Nate kept his foot on him as the man trembled in the grass.

"Where's Charlie!?" Nate thundered. Vaughan looked away from the bodies and stood beside Nate.

"I'll tell you! Just- just give me some supplies." The bad aim bandit said.

"What?" Nate asked indignantly. Was this vermin fucking serious? "Why the fuck would we do that?"

"I- I just… I only joined them for protection, I swear! I never did any of that other stuff. I… I stole and killed people because they made me help them do that, but I never did anything more than that. I never… forced myself on anyone. Now that they're all dead… I just need something to support myself for a while. You can take everything else! I'll even let you take the ticket the boss has on him!" For all the gall the bandit had, he did have the decency to sound both remorseful and disgusted with himself and the lengths he went to in order to survive. Vaughan went to the dead leader and searched through his pockets. He took out a crumpled up, medium sized piece of paper. He smoothed it out and, after reading it, relaxed ever so slightly.

"See! That's okay!" The bandit said. "I'll tell you everything after you give me some stuff!" The man dug his shaky hands into the earth.

"Or we could make you tell us where she is." Nate's voice was dangerously low. The man beneath him shrunk under his vengeful gaze.

"Just give him some of the supplies." Vaughan's drained voice said from behind him. Nate looked at Vaughan with an expression of pure disbelieve which quickly morphed into rage. When Vaughan stood beside him again, Nate clutched the younger man's collar and yanked him forward until their foreheads nearly touched. Vaughan's body locked up in reaction to their proximity and the anger oozing off his friend.

"Your girl is probably getting raped right now," Nate seethed. "And you want to reward one of his friends for it?"

"O-of course n-not!" Vaughan said. He shook his head and Nate's hat shifted. "I-I know… I k-know what's probably happening to C-Charlie right now. But there is absolutely n-no reason why we sh-should be like that too. We're better than that." He looked away from Nate and stared at the bandit. "N-Nate, look at him."

Nate did as he was told. A dark spot was growing on the bandit's pants, starting from his crotch and spreading outwards. The man didn't notice. He was digging dirt out of the ground, distracting himself from his fear of the two men in front of him.

"H-he's…" Vaughan paused, trying to will the stutters out of his voice. "He's not going to go after us and he's not going to lie." He looked back at Nate. "We won't accomplish anything more by hurting him."

| How do you know that? |
| What if I want to hurt him? |
| You're morals will get us killed |
| … |

Nate looked at Vaughan. "What if I want to hurt him?" He asked. Vaughan closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

(?) Vaughan will remember that

"Please don't." Vaughan begged. Please don't. Nate winced slightly. His hands uncurled from the younger man's collar. Vaughan rubbed his throat and stepped away. Nate looked from the bandit, to the truck, and back to the bandit again. The man sat in the grass, pants soaked with urine and hands filled with dirt, waiting for Nate to do something.

This was fucking bullshit, he thought so with every step he took towards the truck. He heard both Vaughan and the bad aim bandit let out identical sighs of relief and wanted to punch them both in the throat, the bandit more so than the bespectacled, naive idiot. Nate opened the tonneau cover. The back was filled with boxes.

(o) Look at box

There was an empty box on its side, waiting to be filled with the provisions the bandit needed to make it on his own for a while. Nate frowned.

(o) Look at whiskey

As he was looking for goods to fill the box, his eyes fell upon the bottles of whiskey and the propane torch.

"Why did she put those two so close together?" Nate murmured to himself. A thought entered his mind then. A very bad, but righteously good thought. "…I could set the bastard on fire. He'd talk then and he wouldn't come after us. The fountain is right over there, so I could put him out before he burned to death."

"Nate?" Vaughan's call was weighted down by the anxiety of getting a move on and finding Charlie as quickly as possible. Nate shared that sentiment.

"Comin'." Nate said over his shoulder. He looked back and forth between the empty box and the propane torch.

(o) Give supplies

(o) Set bandit on fire

He picked the torch up and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of the box. He held the torch under his arm as he opened the bottle. After throwing the lid away, he held the two items in both of his hands and walked back towards the bandit.

(?) You chose to set the bandit on fire

"…What?" The bad aim bandit sounded puzzled. "What am I supposed to do with…" He took a good look at Nate's face and the rest of his question died. Nate poured the whiskey on the man's shoulder. The bandit flinched but was too petrified to move. Vaughan's face tensed as Nate's intentions dawned on him.

"Don't-" Vaughan started. Nate pointed the nozzle of the propane torch at him and turned it on. A small but intense blue flame shot from the opening. Vaughan could feel the flame through his shirt.

"I'm going to burn the son of a bitch. You can watch if you want." Nate smiled at him. He didn't need Vaughan's recoil from him to know that the smile was corrupt and nasty. His muscles and skin felt thick with the wrongness of that crazed expression. He didn't mind though. No, he didn't mind at all. How could he, when his brain was being chewed on by jaws made of homicidal thoughts? Nate turned back to the bandit and slammed his foot into his stomach again.

"This is what's going to happen." Nate told the quivering man. "I'm gonna take this torch and set you on fire. When you tell me where Charlie is, I'll take the fire out."

"No!" The man cried. "No! Please!" His petrifaction shattered. Tears ran down the man's eyes as he grabbed onto Nate's leg, his grip tight and desperate as he pleaded to be left unharmed.

(o)

Nate yanked his leg away from the man's grip. The bandit crawled aimlessly away from him, wanting to go to safety but too scared to even think of finding it and painfully aware that he had nowhere to go. The dark spot on his pants grew in size.

(o)

Nate snatched the bandit's arm and turned him forward. The man was blubbering, screaming for someone to help him.

(o)

Nate brought the propane torch down. The fire hit the bandit's shoulder. The man's upper torso burst into flames. The bandit wailed. He writhed on the ground, bawling in pain and fear. Vaughan ran up to the man. Nate grabbed hold of him before he could reach the bandit.

"やめて! やめて! You're going to kill him!" Vaughan cried. He struggled against Nate's grasp.

| No I won't |
| Stop being a pussy |
| Just hold on |
| … |

"Stop being a fucking pussy and shut up!" Nate shouted into his face. Shrinking away from him like a kicked dog, Vaughan refused to stop being a fucking pussy. But he did stop moving after the initial jerk and his protests dried up and evaporated to someplace where someone actually gave a shit. Nate thought- he knew- that it was not his screaming but his face that got Vaughan to quit his noise. Nate let him go. Vaughan didn't try to help the bandit.

"I'll talk! Oh God, I'll talk!" The bandit wailed. "Fuck! Take the fire out! Take it out! I'll talk!" Something smelt like bacon frying in old peanut oil and sewer water. Nate wondered if that was how people smelt like when they were roasting or if it was just this particular scumbag's aroma a la barbecue.

"Talk first, then the fire goes out." Nate told him. Vaughan quaked in place. He stared at the screaming, burning man and couldn't tear his eyes away. He placed a hand over his mouth and moaned.

"Ah fuck! Help me!" The man bawled. Nate looked at the smouldering man and felt nothing for him. No second thoughts. No guilt. No compassion. For the first time since the apocalypse started, he didn't mind.

"Tell me where Charlie is." Nate said.

—
Achievement Unlocked!
Kill These Folks
—

---

After he let Vaughan drag the blazing bandit into the fountain, he made him leave the man in the pool without tending to his wounds. The man's chest, face, and upper half of his left thigh were ruined. The skin melted and sagged, boils formed like polka dots on his injured flesh. Vaughan nearly threw up. Nate left him alone as he drove to the town houses Charlie was taken to.

It took them two minutes to get there. Nate got out of the truck and Vaughan followed a moment after him, movements slowed. His eyes gazed distantly into nothing. Sections of his clothes were seared.

Nate could hear faint moaning sounds coming from some of the houses. He walked quietly over to Vaughan's side. The younger man wouldn't look at him, though it seemed like he was too out of it to be actively ignoring Nate's presence. Nate lightly tapped his shoulder. Vaughan didn't flinch like he expected him too. Instead he, with visible effort, pulled himself away from whatever happy place or empty place or anywhere-but-here place and looked at Nate with wide and tired eyes.

"When we walk to house thirteen, we're not going to make a sound." Nate whispered. "We're going to wreck the motherfucker who took Charlie, and then we're going to get her out of there. Let's go." He tapped Vaughan's shoulder again before dropping his arm to his side. There was a brown and red smudge where his hand had been. Nate looked at his palms. They were caked in soil, blood, and what may have been eye juice. Nate wiped them on his jeans, nose wrinkling against a brief flare of disgust. He didn't look down at them when he was done to see if they were clean.

Vaughan nodded. His hands fidgeted anxiously with the bow. It was moments like this that made Nate questioned if he really was a psychopath or not, because aside from the residual peevishness he felt over his behaviour, he felt sorry for Vaughan now and sorry for what he did to him if not for the bandit. But this wasn't time for feeling sorry. This was the time to be pissed off and ready to rip lungs out of people's bodies through their throats.

/!\ Sneak up to house thirteen

They crouched low to the ground and crept forward, passing house after house with the upmost care and caution. Vaughan lost balance a few times but managed to keep himself from falling. Nate counted the numbers of the doors they passed.

One, three, is Charlie dead?

Five, seven, did she get raped?

Nine, eleven, I'll kill the son of a bitch!

Thirteen.

Vaughan and Nate move stealthily up the stairs and to the door.

(o) Look at door

The door was ajar.

"It's open." Nate whispered. A sweaty, musky smell wafted through the gap.

(o) Open door

Nate looked at Vaughan. The younger man nodded back, his eyes large but determined. Nate pressed his hand against the door and pushed gently until there was enough room for them to squeeze through. The two men went in.

They took a few wary steps into the home before a round object flew past their feet and slammed the door shut. Nate and Vaughan yelped. They pointed their weapons wildly around the dark foyer. Nate couldn't see anyone, but someone had to be there.

"うわああ!" Vaughan's half scream startled him. Nate turned to him, then followed his gaze to the ground. A strained croak escaped his mouth when he saw what Vaughan was staring at.

It was a head. The neck had been severed unevenly. Pieces of shredded flesh and bone hung from the opening. The eyes bulged, the mouth was open in a silent scream, blood oozed from the stab wound on its forehead, and the face muscles were tensed in a snarl of extreme pain.

"It…it's…" Vaughan could barely speak. "I-it's the m-man who took C-Charlie…" He made a gagging noise and brought a hand up to his mouth. Nate thought the disembodied head was going to get bathed in vomit, but Vaughan kept from throwing up.

"Took you two long enough." A voice said from their right. They jumped and turned towards the owner of the voice.

"Charlie!" Vaughan cried. Charlie's clothes were wrinkled and haphazardly worn on her body. Her fly was zipped down. Her kinky curly hair was tied in a loose bun, though a section of her hair was freed and frizzed outward. Blood dripped from her hands, her knife, and soaked into her clothes. She was smoking a cigarette, a cheap one by the smell of the smoke.

Vaughan dropped the bow and ran to her. Charlie moved the cigarette away from her mouth before he embraced her. Vaughan kissed her lips, her bruised cheek, and neck; foreign words spoken between each kiss was thick with fervent relief. Nate lowered the gun, body relaxing, and smiled.

"Are you alright?" Vaughan asked when he finally spoke English again and pulled his face away from hers. "Did he hurt you? D-did he make you do anything?" He placed his hands on her shoulders. Charlie put the cigarette to her lips and inhaled.

"He didn't make me do anythin'." Charlie said. "I did sleep with him though." She turned her head away from Vaughan and exhaled. The smoke jetted out of her mouth like a dragon post fire breath. The two men gave her matching looks of confusion.

"I… I-I don't understand." Vaughan said slowly. He sounded puzzled and concerned. "I thought you said he didn't make you do anything."

"He didn't." Charlie repeated.

| I still don't understand |
| Why did you do that? |
| Oh holy shit |
| … |

"…Oh holy shit." Nate said, dumbfounded. "You willingly slept with him?" Even when the truth dawned on him, he expected her to deny it. He expected her to get offended or mock him, say that she would never do something so fucking stupid. But Charlie nodded. Vaughan's hands fell from her shoulder like dead weights. All the questions tried to come out of his mouth at once and caused him to stutter pathetically.

"I know." Charlie told her boyfriend. She stared into him with no regret in her eyes. "Its quite surprising. Wouldn't it have been terrible of me if I had kept it from you? It's a good thing I toldja right away." She walked past the stunned Vaughan and left the house. The smoke trailed after her.

Nate looked at Vaughan. It was as if gravity had increased around the younger man, crushing him with its invisible force from the outside in. And he was letting it happen too, his body seemed to get smaller in the pressure of that hovering gravity. Nate decided he didn't want to look at Vaughan anymore and followed Charlie out the door.

—
Achievement Unlocked!
Hell Hath No Fury
—

She was standing on the sidewalk. Smoke rings flowed out of her mouth. She tilted a head at Nate as he descended down the stairs.

"Don't think you don't gotta keep your word now that I got this." Charlie flicked the cigarette around her mouth as she told him this. "I'm still holding ya to the cigarettes you promised me."

| You couldn't lie about it? |
| I was still planning to get you some |
| [Slap Charlie] |
| … |

"You couldn't have lied about what happened? You were just compelled to tell him the fuckin' truth?" Nate's irritation wouldn't allow for him to drop what happened.

"If I were going to lie about it I wouldn't have slept with the bandit in the first place." Charlie sounded bored. That aggravated his irritation farther. She noticed this but ignored it in favor of taking another drag of her cigarette. She spoke again after blowing the smoke out her lungs. "I'm going to tell you what happened."

| Fine |
| I don't want to fucking know |
| Eww |
| … |

Nate crossed his arms and said nothing.

Charlie went on. "When I woke up, the asshole was carryin' me towards the house. He saw that my eyes were open and he got scared, but he acted like he was tough shit and started threatening me. 'If you scream I'll kill you' he says. 'You don't have to worry about nothin' I tell him. 'I'm more than willing to do whatja want.' Now he may have looked stupid, but he wasn't. Not by much anyways. He didn't believe that I'd go with him without a fight."

"So I started kissing him. That convinced the bastard. He carried me into the house and laid me down. At that moment I could have killed him. The butcher's knife was close by; I could have grabbed it and stabbed the son of a bitch. But Vaughan needed to be taught a lesson. So I slept with him."

"After we were done, he was very relaxed and I was… rather impressed, actually. He told me that the others were going to want to have me too. I told him I didn't mind and he laughed. I asked him for a cigarette, he gave me one, I lit it, and then I decapitated him. It was somewhat difficult to cut completely through, he did struggle quite a bit, but in the end his head came off clean enough I suppose." She took another drag from the cigarette, held the smoke in, and let it out. "You impressed?"

| Yes |
| Somewhat |
| No |
| … |

"Somewhat." Nate admitted.

"Why somewhat?" She didn't sound disappointed, not that she had done what she did to impress anyone.

"Decapitating motherfuckers is always awesome." Nate said, as if the bandit's head hadn't disturbed him when he first saw it. "That you slept with said motherfucker just to get back at Vaughan is not fucking awesome! Don't roll your eyes, it's true! Okay, yeah, Vaughan lied to you. I know that sucks. And I would be fine with you doing something minor to get back at him. But what you did was not fucking minor!"

"Ain't like you never cheated before." Charlie grumbled.

| This isn't about me |
| Not on someone with cancer |
| Not on a good person |
| … |

"Not on anyone who didn't deserve it." Nate spat. Charlie almost crushed the cigarette between her fingers.

"The fuck did you just say?" Charlie demanded.

"You heard me, bitch." Nate said.

"Fuck you Nate." Charlie snarled. They stared each other down. If she hit him, Nate decided, they'd end up beating the shit out of each other in the abandoned community. Because he would hit her back, and it would escalate like it did the last time.

Charlie, in a rare display of mental exhaustion, was the one to back down. She glared at the cigarette like she was judging it for being almost finished.

"Vaughan will get over it." Charlie mumbled. Before Nate could argue that no, Vaughan wasn't going to get over this, at least not very easily, the bandit's head flew past the both of them. They had a delayed reaction to it, flinching after it bounced off the pavement. A bloody skid mark followed it as it stumbled to a stop.

"Score!" Vaughan cheered. Charlie and Nate stared at him as he skipped down the stairs towards them.

"Well Charlie!" Vaughan said. He leered at her. She jerked away from him. "I can see why you fucked the guy. His was a face to die for!" Vaughan laughed again and walked towards the truck.

"The fuck's wrong with him?" Charlie asked when he was some distance away.

| Mood swings |
| What's wrong with YOU? |
| Let's just get out of here |
| … |

"It's mood swings." Nate told her. "You know, from the tumor he has in his head." He walked away from her before she could reply.

---

Nate could still hear the baby scream in his head when he jerked from his sleep. The bright stars mocked him with their peaceful appearance. He thought he heard an owl screech, which was odd because he swore he parked the truck in a parking lot. Shivering from the shock of the dream and not the slight chill of the air, he grabbed onto the side of the trunk and pulled himself up. A light hit his face and he recoiled. He reached for his gun.

"I thought you said sleeping was stupid." Vaughan said. He moved the flashlight away from Nate's face. He kept talking before Nate could reply. "You set a man on fire, even after I told you we didn't have to. You set him on fire and I can't sleep because I still smell him burning." Vaughan was also shaking. Like Nate, it wasn't from the cold. The light reflected the deep seated anger and guilt in his eyes.

| What can I do about that? |
| I'm not as bad as Charlie |
| Go back to sleep |
| … |

It was a long day, and on normal circumstances he would've told Vaughan to fuck off so he could rest. But lately sleep came with nightmares, and the guilt of what he put Vaughan through was still gnawing at him, so he decided he'd put up with this for a while.

"Yes, I lit a man on fire." Nate said. "But at least I ain't as bad as Charlie."

Vaughan scoffed at him. "You said you wanted to hurt him!"

"…I did," Nate agreed. "But that don't mean it wasn't necessary." Vaughan opened his mouth and Nate covered it with his hand. "Shut up and listen for a second. I had to hurt him. He wouldn't have told us the truth otherwise. I know you think differently, but you're wrong. He hung out with those bastards willingly, he said so himself. He would have done shit like that on a regular with those fuckers, why would he stop if we gave him our stuff for free?" He moved his hand from Vaughan's mouth.

"What Charlie did to you, that was much worse." Nate continued. "She could've killed the bandit right away, but she didn't because she wanted to get back at you for something you did because you were scared and didn't want her to leave you. Not that Charlie sees it that way but whatever." The younger man looked away.

"I set that guy on fire for all of us, alright?" Nate's voice went soft. "How the hell does fucking someone help anyone but her?" Vaughan looked back at Nate. All the anger that had been radiating off him was gone, leaving a thick layer of exhaustion in its place.

| [Move over] |
| [Do nothing] |

"C'mon up." Nate said. "Ya probably don't wanna go back in there now that I've said all that." He shifted himself to the side and patted the now free space.

(?) Vaughan will remember that

"…Is there enough room?" Vaughan asked.

"Sure there is." Nate told him. "I've been kicking around in my sleep lately so I moved a lot of the stuff on the ground so I don't break anything." Vaughan looked at the boxes on the ground. He hesitated before climbing up into the back of the truck. He stumbled as he tried to sit. Nate grabbed hold of his arm and eased him down. Once seated, Nate placed an arm around Vaughan's shoulder. They were quiet for a while before Vaughan spoke up.

"I fear for my mental health." The younger man said. "Regardless of whether or not the cancer is messing with my head, I think I still need help."

| We all need help |
| You need a doctor and a therapist? |
| You're going to get tougher |
| … |

"You need a doctor and a therapist then?" Nate asked.

Vaughan sighed. "A therapist… the thing about therapists nowadays is that the dead ones can't help you and the living ones probably need therapy too."

Nate nodded. "At least we found you doctors." He said.

"Yeah," Vaughan replied. "At least I'll have them. That's more important, I guess." Silence fell over the two men again. Nate rested his head against the back window of the truck and sighed. Tomorrow would be less stressful. Tomorrow hopefully marked the start of normality in their lives again.

But even if that was the case, it didn't make what happened today easier to deal with. It didn't make the nightmares bearable or his mental health less disturbing. Nate closed his eyes.

"I'm tired." He sighed.

—
Achievement Unlocked!
Broken Infinity Heart
—