Something Else – Aftermath Chapters

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Something Precious

Part One

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Dal was an odd creature. This had already been decided by all members of their group, namely Nick. Dal was an infected with the mind of a toddler and sanity that held together almost as well as Ellis', so long as no one was in immediate danger of death, namely Nick. Dal idolized Nick in his own odd way, always wanting to sleep with him and be around him and follow him around and lean on him and sit on him. Nick was rather neutral towards these actions; though he would often react angrily if he was in a cranky mood and being obstructed from his morning sugar dose, namely a cup of hot chocolate, because the stupid coffee pot was broken again.

That said; it was obvious to only Nick when Dal started to act a little… odd. Surely, odd was normal for such an odd creature, but some things were odder than others. Dal was an odd and happy little creature. He was easy to upset, but even easier to cheer up.

Knowing the limits to normal cheerfulness on Dal's face, it was easier for Nick that it was for anyone else to notice when his smiling was a little overboard. Nick was an observant person. Dal didn't seem to know that.

Nick's eyes cracked open, and he slowly and quietly disentangled himself from Rochelle's warmth. The air away from their bed was a little warmer than fucking frigid, but Nick was tough so he could handle it. Rochelle mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, persuading him to lean over and give her a swift kiss before getting off the bed. As he was returning to their room from the bathroom, he almost immediately took notice of the lack of black blur on the foot of the bed. Dal was gone.

He slipped downstairs briefly, scoping out the living room and the couch in his near-blind exhaustion. He didn't spot the Hunter, but there was also a distinct possibility that he was in another room, making his rounds. Nick returned to bed, joining Rochelle as stealthily as possible.

When he woke up that morning and traveled downstairs for coffee or hot chocolate (depending on the state of the coffee pot), he took note that Dal was on the couch. He was watching Ellis intently as he dissected the coffee pot to see what exactly was making water spew everywhere when one turned it on to make coffee.

That had been a week ago.

Currently, Nick was twiddling his thumbs on the couch, staring out the window in the living room and glancing over to the door every time he heard the slightest bit of movement. Dal was still out and he was already awake. Dal had always made sure to abandon his obsession so he could be home before anyone else woke up. So, naturally, Nick was worriedly waiting for the others to come downstairs so he could tell them to get their gear so they could go hunt for the stupid Hunter.

He was only a couple of hours late, so Nick wasn't altogether sure why he was so worked up. He frowned at the window and sighed to himself. His paranoia was getting a little bit ridiculous. But that wasn't his fault; Dal was something to be worried about constantly.

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The little tiny thingamajig cooed at him, and Dal let out a gentle squeal of delight at the sound. It shivered slightly against his calloused hands, though he almost didn't notice the sensation in his mostly numb extremities. His ever watchful eyes did, however, catch sight of the involuntary movement. Dal easily recognized "shivering," mostly because he had had to curl up with and often carry Nick, who had shivered from both cold and nightmares almost constantly when they had been alone.

Nervously, Dal leaned over the small creature and sniffed its fuzzy body a bit worriedly. It sneezed at him, and shivered even worse. Dal recognized the signs of an ill body, whether it was in a person or in a tiny thingamajig. He had managed to refrain from touching it too much, mainly because he knew that his strength and claws could be dangerous from something so small and fragile. The memory of attacking Nick pieced itself together in his head, and Dal's lip quivered.

Slowly, he held out one of his hands. It sniffed him curiously, though the movement was sluggish and tired. He laid both his hands down on the cold concrete of the building, palms up, and waited. Whatever it was, it was smart. It weakly stumbled onto his hands and all but fell over as it got comfortable.

A low, angry snarl reached him, and Dal froze. His lips parted slightly in horror as he easily recognized the territorial snarl of a fellow Hunter. He and Nick had had this problem before, but Dal would've known to stay if they had just marked their territory. He wasn't stupid, despite some irrational decisions he made.

The lone Hunter turned into a pack of Hunters. A group of at least seven of them was creeping forward on all fours, showing their yellow teeth. Without a moment to decide on consequences, Dal pulled the tiny thingamajig to his chest and jumped to the nearby wall, clutching the small creature in one hand and using the other to grab one of the metal bars hanging from the ceiling. With a slight height advantage, he took off, following the bars until he found a window.

He paused for only a second, slipping the little thingy into his hoodie pocket, where it would be safe. He held one arm over the pocket, defending it with one hand as he broke through the window with the other. It was a slightly longer drop than he had anticipated, and while the pain only lasted a few seconds, it only took that long for the other Hunters to catch up to him. He managed to stand up, shaking out his leg for only a second before taking off again, this time using both hands to protect his charge. He jumped onto a porch roof, and then onto the roof of that house. Roof jumping was one of Dal's favorite pastimes, even before he had met Nick.

Naturally, he was very good at it.

His jumping form was perfect, and nothing could possibly have gone wrong. It was situations like these that made him and Nick nervous. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that one of the other Hunters, a smaller, faster little girl, had caught up with him much better than he larger, slower brothers. He barely saw the blur of purple as it rammed into his side, taking both of them off the roof. Dal managed to pull up a leg in midair and kicked her hard in the chest, sending her flying away from his person. He knew he didn't have time to land properly, but his instincts did the best they could. He rolled over mere feet from the ground and barely managed to turn the landing into something less than a disaster.

The snow caved around his knees from the impact, and he could feel the odd, tingling sensation in his right ankle. It had done the same thing when he'd hit the ground from the window. He ignored it and stood up.

He managed to run maybe a hundred yards before his entire leg gave out, sending him to his knees. When he managed to stand back up, he found that he couldn't operate his right leg enough to run, let alone walk properly. He turned around; he couldn't fight with this thing in his front pocket. It let out a soft cry of terror, and he could feel it shifting around against his stomach. He bit his lower lip.

The Hunters were standing in what looked almost like a formation. The little one in the purple hoodie was riding on the back of a particularly large Hunter. He looked like he had been a failed attempt at a Charger, or something. The apparent leader stepped forward, his back slouched and his teeth and claws bore. He growled lowly, his intentions clear.

Get out. I'll kill you.

Dal didn't respond, wincing slightly at the sound of another frightened coo. He didn't move, his body tensing as they crouched down in preparation to pounce. He couldn't run; he could fight; he couldn't even walk away passively. One of the Hunters leapt over the back of their apparent leader, landing mere feet away from Dal. He snarled viciously, but Dal didn't flinch. He had been around gun fire, taken out Tanks, run screaming from Witches, and fought and mutilated the bodies of countless infected in the midst of a rampage.

His throat betrayed him, letting out a deep, threatening growl. It was a self-defense mechanism that he hadn't yet managed to get under control and would probably kill him. Today.

The Hunter's face contorted into rage, and he jumped forward, betraying the shriek of orders from the Hunter in charge of their little pack. Dal caught the attacking Hunter's foot with his palm, ignoring the agonizing strain in his wrist as he turned the deadly attack away from his stomach. The kick barely missed him, and his newly sprained wrist didn't have the strength to repel the attack completely. The Hunter sped past him, watching as Dal hit the ground, one hand still covering his front pocket. The leader stepped towards him, his scarred face contorted into an expression akin to disgust.

Dal wasn't altogether sure if the Infected population - any amount of them – had managed to regain at bit of their sanity and communicative skills with at least each other. Whatever the case may be, this Hunter pack was doing a good job keeping their intentions clear.

There was a crunch in the snow, and the leader looked up. Eyes wide in surprise, he let out a screech to warn the others only seconds before he had taken a bullet to the head. Or maybe it had been several to different portions of his body. Dal hadn't exactly seen that part.

The footsteps stopped behind him.

"Dal," Nick reached down and touched his head. The Hunter leaned back to look at him. "What happen…?" He shook his head, sighing. He really wished that Dal could actually talk. It'd make everyone's life a lot easier, "C'mon, get up."

The Hunter nodded, leaning forward again. His held his injured arm over the front pocket - it wasn't like he would be able to do anything else with it - and stood up awkwardly. His leg was practically numb, and still wouldn't bend and turn when he wanted it to.

Nick was scrutinizing him, a scowl on his face, "So, you wanna give me a really good reason why you didn't come home this morning, and ended up nearly getting yourself killed by a pack of Hunters?"

Dal opened his mouth to speak, and Nick was greeted with a soft, nervous meow. Dal clamped his mouth shut and swallowed hard. He looked mortified. Nick found himself staring at Dal's right arm, which was held over his front pocket as if for protection. The pocket stirred, and a small head poked itself out of the pocket.

"Dal," He said severely, "We are not keeping a fucking kitten." It was a small, dark calico with relatively large ears for its size. It sneezed, and pulled back into the pocket. Rochelle was standing behind him, and he could feel Ellis on the other side. Coach had stayed home, mostly because he seemed to be coming down with a slight head cold.

Rochelle had seen the kitten, and she looked to Nick briefly before turning back to Dal. Wordlessly, she extended her hands out, and the Hunter seemed to understand her intentions. He reached into his pocket with his left hand and managed to gently tug the kitten out of his pocket. It squealed and dug its claws into the fabric, clearly not wanting to come out.

Dal placed the kitten into Rochelle's hands gingerly, looking overly worried about the wellbeing of the kitten. Rochelle cooed at it, and it mewled back at her, trying to slip its tiny body into her sleeve.

She only held it for a moment before she handed it back to Dal, "Nick," She began, "It's just a baby…"

"No."

"C'mon, Nick," Ellis suddenly spoke up, after having watched the kitten carefully, "s'just a baby. It can't live out 'ere by itself."

"W-… It's been doing fine! Dal's only been taking care of it for a little while!" Nick snapped, "We are not keeping it! It'll be dead in a week!"

Dal looked mortified, and let out a slightly heated growl. He wasn't going to let anything happen to his kitten. Nick shook his head insistently.

"Absolutely not," was all he said.

Rochelle stuck out her lip, "Nick, please? Kittens that small don't make much noise! And it's sick!"

"It is not sick."

Dal nodded his head insistently, and as if to back up the notion, the kitten sneezed pitifully from within the depths of Dal's front pocket. Nick gritted his teeth, looking back and forth between Ellis' puppy-dog face and Rochelle's mock-quivering lip. They were begging him. This was ridiculous.

"How old are you again?"

"Don't get off topic, Nick," Ellis said hopefully, "C'mon, you won't hafta have anything ta' do with it. We can take care of a kitten."

"He's right; I'm sure Dal will be more than willing to bottle feed it by himself." Rochelle added with a smile.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa - Bottle feed?" Nick cut her off, "It doesn't need to be fed milk!"

"Yes it does! I'm sure its mom only recently died; it wouldn't have been able to live by itself for very long. It's too small."

"Where d'ya think all the milk went?" Ellis sniggered.

Nick turned to Dal, "Did you-… Why are we even discussing this? No is no!"

The kitten was stirring against Dal's stomach again, seemingly upset by the yelling. Dal lowered his gaze to his pocket, and something odd about his wrist caught his eye. He frowned at the appendage, but didn't say anything.

"Dal…" He croaked. He didn't look up at Nick at all, slipping his uninjured hand into his pocket to stroke the soft fur on the kitten neck. It licked his finger, inciting a delighted expression from the Hunter.

"What happened to your hand?" Nick suddenly said, staring at the swelling on his wrist with a scowl, "Did you sprain it?"

Dal looked up again, thinking for a brief second before showing what exactly his wrist had done when he'd been defending the kitten against his stomach from harm. Nick clicked his tongue irritably.

"You dumbass," He grunted, "You could've gotten yourself killed, and over what? A fucking cat."

Dal pulled the kitten out of his pocket again, being careful to not expose it to the wind. He held out to Nick nervously, watching the conman carefully. Nick frowned, taking the kitten from him and staring at it hard. It sneezed again.

"Fucker probably has fleas," He muttered, "Do you know how hard it is to get fleas off a cat? It's a pain in the ass. And we'd have to stock up on cat food, and that would mean a trip to the fucking supermarket. We could get ourselves killed doing that. This thing'll probably die within a week anyway because we don't even have any medicine for animals. We'd have to walk to the nearest pet shop to get that, and I don't even know where I could find a pet shop."

Ellis rolled his eyes, "Nick, this is a yes'r no question."

Nick scowled, handing the little creature to Dal. He didn't say anything as Dal put it back into his pocket. He listened to it squeak as it returned to the warmth. He watched it as it squirmed in the pocket. He glanced at Rochelle out of the corner of his eye; she was watching him hopefully.

"Why do we want a cat?" He grumbled, "It's just one more thing to take care of, and we can barely take care of each other."

Rochelle smiled slightly, "It's like having a baby, Nick."

Nick was taken aback by the reply. He glanced back at Dal, aware of the fact that he was probably slightly flushed by Rochelle's words.

"If I wanted a kid, I would've asked for one."

She nodded understandingly, "That's the cool thing about kittens," She said, "It's like having your own baby, only there's no crying, no screaming, and no cleaning up diapers. She's still really young, so it'd be really easy to litter train her.

"It's a girl?"

"Yea…You didn't notice that?"

"I'm sorry; I don't stare at cat parts for fun." He replied sarcastically, turning back to Dal again. He had a hand in his pocket, petting the kitten again with a gentle look on his face.

There was a long, silent pause. The wind blew a gust over the snowy landscape. Dal turned slightly so that the kitten wouldn't get a sudden blast of cold. He held his arms over the pocket, shielding her from the chilly air.

"Fine. We can keep her."

A/N

And thus, the first Aftermath Chapter. Yes, Nick just agreed to keep a kitten. Just for the record, she isn't a freshly born kitten. She's only maybe a week away from weaning. Her mommy and brothers and sisters were probably killed by the infection/infected only a few hours before she met Dal. And yes, he's been stealing milk from the fridge to give her.

I don't quite remember who, but someone mentioned something about a pack of Hunters that would "try to recruit Dal into their group, and Nick would have to fend them off and stuff." My Hunter pack is somewhat based off that notion, except that they aren't interested in recruiting Dal so much as they're interested in protecting their territory. They'll be back, trust me.

Also, I didn't call it a kitten until the end of the chapter, because the scene where Dal is alone is written from his perspective. And no, he doesn't know what a kitten it, until just now. Kate the Night wanted me to write a chapter from his point of view, and I tried that at first, but Dal is a little bastard so he's really hard to write like that, mainly because he doesn't talk and I never write what he's thinking in italicized thoughts.

Sorry for taking so long to write this chapter! It was really, really, really hard for some reason. I had to rewrite it about three times. The first time was a completely different storyline that failed, and the second time was like a rough draft bullshit version of the end result. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.