The gun slipped from Axel's hand and fell to the ground as he collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face.
"No, no, no! Benatar! Please!"
He lifted the body of his friend, who was as floppy as a rag-doll, and buried his face in the blonde's chest.
"Please! No, Benny, please!"
Puff stumbled out and blanched. "Is he...?"
Axel raised his head tearfully and opened his mouth to respond when -
"Hey...what was that for?"
Startled, the brunette looked down to see Benatar looking back at him with his bright yellow eyes. The bullet wound in his chest was already healing, and it had been enough to shake him back to reality from the possessive zombie state he had been in. He sat up and folded his arms.
"That hurt!"
"You...you're okay?" Axel stammered, stunned, "But how?"
"Good question." Deejay said, taking a step back. Puff remained behind, steadily growing paler.
Benatar bit his lip, realizing he had his back to the wall. "I...I think..."
The drummer felt the true meaning behind the blonde's hesitation, and he felt a bead of sweat roll down his face.
"I think...that I'm...a -"
Suddenly, a choking sound cut them off. All three turned in surprise to see Puff gasping and coughing as he grabbed his chest before flopping to the ground, lifeless.
"Gah! What happened?" Deejay exclaimed, shocked.
"I knew a-all that food w-would have gotten t-to him eventually!" Axel stuttered, "Quick! Get t-the phone!"
The two raced into the kitchen as Benatar silently took this opportunity to hide. He curled up under the table and covered his head, trembling, and wishing he had never gone after that can of soda.
His shoulder pulsed with dull pain.
###
Benatar remained under the table for at least two hours, half asleep. His back had cramped up from the corkscrew position he was in, but he didn't dare move. Occasionally a cop car would drive by and he would tense up so much his body hurt, but no one came in.
At some point, he dozed off. His dreams were very reminiscent of fever dreams, where everything was slurred and skewed, with repetitions and creepy carousel music in the background. The nightmares' tight clutches kept him in their grip until he was startled awake by the sounds of keys in a lock. With a gasp, he leapt up and smacked his skull painfully on the underside of the table.
"Ow..." he mumbled, gritting his teeth against the sharp pound of headache. The door swung open and two of three band members shuffled in.
Benatar crawled out from under the table. "How is he?"
Axel narrowed his eyes at him. "Why do you care? You didn't bother coming with us, did you?" he said nastily. Benatar hung his head shamefully.
"He had a heart attack. Two much cholesterol from those freakish things he ate." Deejay explained, a little more kindly. Benatar got up and stepped over to Axel, putting his hand reassuringly on his shoulder.
"Don't touch me!" he spat, pulling away and stomping off. The aura of anger he left behind was poisonous.
"Don't bug him now, B. He's really worried."
"B-but -!"
"Don't."
Deejay also migrated to his room, leaving the Brit behind to be even more alone.
Unable to sleep from sheer anxiety, Benatar remained on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Sheer regret over things he couldn't change swallowed him and spat him out repeatedly.
"Why did I go after that can of soda? Why?" he mumbled aloud, trying not to cry.
Morning dawned icy and cold. He raised his head when he heard someone walk into the living room.
"Axel?"
The brunette didn't answer; he simply grabbed a beer from the fridge and chugged it.
Very uncharacteristically.
Benatar got up and walked over to the shadowy-eyed drummer. "Do you...want me to make you breakfast?"
"No." Axel grumbled. Ben sighed.
"Axel, please...don't be mad."
The drummer tightened his hold on the neck of the bottle.
"I just...I think that -"
The bottle exploded and the glass shards flew everywhere, scratching and nicking Benatar's greenish skin. With a cry, he ducked down.
"Whoa! What happened?" Deejay ran into the hallway, his tracksuit half-off.
"Nothing." Axel said past his gritted teeth. The blonde stayed on the ground, trembling.
"Well, okay...be more careful."
The Brit shakily looked up at the drummer before crawling away, heart pounding in fear.
"I'm going to go pick up Puff, is anyone coming with me?" the brunette said aloud. Ben raised his head hopefully, but Axel gazed at him irritably.
"I'll come with you, Axel. Let's go." the sound mixer said with a sigh.
###
It was a good hour later before they returned, and Axel was even more pissed than before. Puff was wobbly and unsteady on his feet, and he immediately collapsed onto the couch when he got home. His face was pale and slick with sweat.
"Puff? You okay?" Benatar asked, genuinely worried. The singer nodded unsteadily, twitching slightly.
Axel sat at the table and plunked the six-pack he had bought on the table, proceeding to drink a can. The Brit winced.
"Axel, why are you suddenly drinking to much? This isn't like you."
"You're not like you either." Axel said blatantly. Deejay sensed a growing tenseness in the air.
"But...it's not my fault."
The drummer finally lost his temper.
"BULLSHIT! This is all your fault, Benatar!" he yelled, shoving him to the ground, "If it weren't for you, none of this would have ever happened!"
The keyboardist stayed on the floor for a moment, stunned, before angrily jumping up as well.
"How is it /my/ fault Puff had a heart attack?"
"You freaking moron, if you hadn't shown up to the house like that, he wouldn't have! Scum sucker!"
Ben's ears turned red. "You - you - you shithead! It's not like I wanted to, I just can't help it!
"Why not just get out and stick to eating brains, you necrophiliac!"
"SHUT UP! You whore!"
"Fuckface!"
"Arse!"
Axel leapt on Benatar and shoved him to the ground, tearing at his hair and punching him. The Brit fought back, scratching him back.
"WHOA, WHOA, break it up!" Deejay grabbed each of them and forcefully pulled them apart. They struggled against him.
"Let me go! His brains are gonna paint the wall!" Axel spat.
"Both of you, cut it out!" Puff shouted weakly.
"You know what? I'll say it - I'm a zombie! Are you happy, you oversized turd?" Benatar shouted.
"Shut the fuck up, you dick! I don't care about you anymore!" Axel screamed.
"Yeah? Well, I don't give a /shit/ about you! WE'RE THROUGH!"
Benatar pulled away from Deejay and ran down the hallway, leaving the brunette with his eyes wide in shock. He covered up his dark surprise with more angry cussing.
"Well, I don't fucking care! In fact, I fucking love it! Welcome back to the Friend Zone, you asshole!"
"SHUT UP!" the Brit shrieked, slamming the door to his room behind him. Axel tore away from Deejay angrily and plunked himself on the couch, folding his arms.
"...Axel..."
"Just shut up, Puff!" he snapped, rolling over and facing the wall.
Meanwhile, Benatar had leaned against the wall, angry tears pouring down his face. He hated everything about himself right now, and his very existence was disgusting to even him.
"Axel..." he whispered, "I...I didn't mean it..."
He scrubbed his face, sobs bursting out of his mouth. His heart was beating erratically.
Suddenly, it started beating faster. It became harder to breathe, and Benatar felt like he was drowning on land. Gasping for air, he propped himself against the wall.
Puff, still too weak to properly walk, slid to the floor and crawled over to the drummer.
"Axel?"
No response.
"Axel."
"What?" he squeaked, clearly in tears.
"Don't you think...you overreacted?"
"No! I didn't!"
"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt."
"Puff, I didn't overreact, I just...overreacted."
The singer smiled. "You see? Now how awful do you think Benatar feels?"
Axel swallowed, attempting to loosen the know in his throat. "Probably really bad."
Benatar collapsed to the ground, his heart beating so fast it felt like it was about to explode. He frantically began scratching at his chest, drawing blood and trying to pull out his own heart. He was that agonized.
"Now how about you go and apologize?"
"But...he hates me now."
"He won't if you say you're sorry." Puff said kindly.
Axel sat up and looked at the nerd, reminded of why he had agreed to sign on with him for YFM. He smiled.
"Okay, I'll go talk to him."
Blood bubbled up Benatar's throat and dripped to the floor from his mouth and nose. He flopped over on the floor, realizing that the zombie infection had reached his brain, and was commanding it to stop his heart.
He was dying, and he knew it.
Axel stood and walked slowly down the hallway, thinking carefully of what he'd say.
Desperate, Benatar pushed himself up and staggered to the window, which he pushed up. Blinded by the blood leaking down his face, he slipped and struggled to find his way out the window. At long last, he got out and fell to the grassy ground. Panting (despite the fact he was suffocating), he collapsed.
Axel opened the door. "Ben, I need to tell you..." he trailed off, freezing in place.
No one was in the room. There was blood puddled on the floor, but the owner of it was missing.
"Benatar?"
The Brit, despite hearing his name, couldn't hold out any longer; his heart finally stopped. As an icy feeling took him over, his head hit the ground.
"Benatar?" Axel's voice grew shrill, "Benatar, where are you?"
Thinking he had driven the other man to running away, Axel fell to the floor, devastated.
"Oh my God, what have I done?" he sobbed, devastated.
Benatar, outside, weakly raised his head. He hadn't heard Axel's cries, and was far too confused that he was still awake to care. He held his chest and felt no beat.
Guess I really am a zombie.
He got up and dragged himself away.