Prompt: epidemic/pandemic
A/N: this chapter contains a section that was first posted a year ago as part of hc_bingo round 10.
Chapter 10
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Shaun slammed his fridge with an angry 'thunk'. No chance of a normal coffee then. The absence of any milk meant he would have to actually go out and face the world. Out where happy couples meandered about, pushing their lives into sad lonely people's face. How dare they.
Buying the milk was also one of the many things Donna used to do instead of him, so the act of venturing out to the supermarket had a hidden depth to it.
With a sigh, he had to admit to himself that life had been a lot easier when she had organised it all for him. It had been one of her charms. And he found himself missing that easy distant state of being where they'd been almost living together, and about to get married. It had been almost too cosy, now that he thought about it. Perhaps that was why his feelings had altered?
Things had changed for Shaun as soon as Donna had been found slumped in one of the alleyways behind her mum's house; the one that led to the local garages. He had raced through the open back gate in the garden to find her after Sylvia and him had come 'round after their funny turn, frightened by Donna's disappearance.
Moments later he'd been horrified to find several bodies lying near Donna on the hard cold ground. 'Please let her be okay,' he had silently begged any deity that would listen; and had thought his luck was in when his heart-felt wish was granted. She was alive.
Yet something wasn't quite right.
Theirs had never been a particularly touchy-feely relationship. Never needed to be. Its subdued nature suited the pair of them as they sought to live a life beyond their parents. But Donna had definitely cooled towards him, and he hadn't felt right about their engagement since touching her freezing, almost lifeless body on Christmas Day. Whatever it was, it continued to push him further away, and that broke his heart.
Years of engulfing loneliness beckoned if he didn't get this right. He was very aware of that. Had been even when he'd broke things up between them for his own sanity. But it was the little things that made him miss her. The selfish, probably sexist, things that made him regret breaking them up. It almost made him reach out and text her, asking to meet, but he worried too much that she would tell him to bugger off if he did that.
An angry Donna was not someone you wanted to cross.
Except, he was now willing to risk it, if he could reassure himself that she was alright. That wouldn't be too bad a thing, would it? No, he told himself. If nothing else, he'd end up with a fresh pint of milk to put on his cornflakes in the morning. It was a win-win situation.
Just as he put his coat on, a strange chill ran through his body, as though he was starting to sicken with something. In response, he mentally added some cough remedies to his shopping list. After, he couldn't afford to miss work for any great length of time.
Donna was in the middle of her normal Monday night shop, topping up on anything forgotten or used over the weekend. John was with her, trying to do his best to be useful, but it wasn't his fault certain items kept catching his attention as they walked through the aisles. It was all still rather novel, as experiences go.
She'd eventually found him closely examining the differences between types of European salami when her phone rang. "Hello Mum. What did I need to get?"
"Paracetamol," Sylvia replied. "Your grandfather isn't well. I think someone at the wedding has given him the flu. It might be that swine flu that's still going around."
"Rightio. I'll go to the pharmacy and pick up as much as I can to help him."
"Thanks for doing this."
"No problem," Donna trilled "See you later. Bye!"
Standing from his bent position over the fridge display, John asked, "Anything the matter?"
"Gramps isn't well. Mum thinks he's got the flu. Perhaps that swine flu."
"Oh no," he sympathised. "We don't want anything bad happening to him."
"We certainly don't," she agreed. "After we've been down to the pharmacy bit, I think we'll get him a treat or too."
"Cake," he enthused. "Can I help choose some?"
"Come on," she fondly encouraged him to move. "Play your cards right and you'll get to eat some too, if we can hide it away from Mum."
"Donna," John cautiously whispered into her ear some minutes later, "I don't want to worry you, but some man is watching you. Has been since we stood here. No, don't turn and look yet. He's at the till end of the aisle."
She nodded at John and then slowly turned to glance that way. "Shaun," she murmured.
The man took a couple of steps nearer. "Hello. How are you?"
"Shaun? That's Shaun?" John wondered, circling the man in question. "He's not what I expected him to be."
"I'm fine," she answered her ex-fiancé, "but you don't look too well."
Shaun huffed a laugh. "Yeah. I'm feeling a bit under the weather."
"Careful, you might get that swine flu going around," she cautioned. "Gramps might have it."
"Is that why you're buying all that stuff?" Shaun pondered.
"No, she's subsidising the local hospital," John pithily remarked.
How could she tell John off without frightening Shaun? The man looked awful. Either he was really ill or petrified of her; she couldn't quite decide in that moment. "Overdoing things, as usual," she commented. "I hope you feel better soon."
"Thanks.
"Stop being so nice to him," John ordered. "He dumped you, remember!" When she gave him a puzzled frown, he realised how he must sound. "Oops! Sorry. Don't listen to me. You've got a wedding to salvage. Yes, well, erm… He certainly needs looking after, that much is clear."
"When you feel better," she started to say, to halt Shaun's retreat, "perhaps we can get the chance to talk things through. Cross all the 't's and dot the 'i's. That sort of thing."
"Yes, that's a good idea," Shaun answered, feeling pleased despite his dour outward appearance. "I'll be in touch. Very soon. Bye. See you later."
She waited until Shaun was out of clear sight before hissing at John, "What's got into you? I thought you wanted the engagement to be back on."
"I do," he defended himself. "It's just, now that I've seen him with my own eyes, I can't help wondering if he's good enough for you."
"Don't start all that again," she huffed and stalked away.
"No, listen," he begged, running after her. "I know I shouldn't be all possessive since I'm…"
"…a ghost," she finished for him.
He visibly winced. "And that too. I can't help that I care so much, but I promised that I'll help get you back together, so I'll shut up if you prove why he deserves you."
"Would a large gooey chocolate cake help to persuade you?" she cheekily offered.
Grinning broadly, he boasted, "You have all the best arguments. It's best that we buy a couple, just in case."
Buying extra soon became a wise idea indeed. For within days, both Wilf and his daughter were laid low with the latest strain of flu, leaving Donna to cope with their care almost solely on her own. John tried to help but in reality, could only offer moral support in front of them, no matter how many times he made tea.
The rasping breath of Sylvia Noble filled the small room she slept in. Donna came out and closed the bedroom door behind her before slumping against the door frame.
John watched her with deep concern. She'd been running herself ragged since her mother and grandfather had become ill with the same symptoms most of London seemed to have suffered with in the last week. "Are you okay?" he asked, offering a hug to comfort her.
However, she waved him off. "I'm so tired. Everything feels wrong."
He frowned and dropped his arms. "What do you mean everything?"
"Well," she began, "since you appeared, my life has gone from bad to worse."
"What! How can you say that? You can't mean it," he reasoned in hurt tones.
"Except I think I do," she insisted.
"Donna, don't you like me being here?" he gently voiced his nagging doubt.
"No, it isn't that," she quickly answered. "It's just… why are you really here? Still here, I mean. I've never properly understood it. Did you deliberately bring an epidemic with you? Are you like some zombie invasion?"
"Don't be daft. Of course not."
"Why should I believe you?" she argued. "I don't even know how you exactly died let alone why."
His face went grim. No, he couldn't tell her. "It's complicated."
"It's complicated," she mimicked him in a silly voice. "Every single thing about you is complicated," she spat. "Do you know why you are here with me instead of joining the celestial host? I bet you don't."
Appalled by her outburst, he supplied, "I bet I do. It's quite obvious."
"Is it something that'd be obvious to us mere mortals or does it only make sense to the undead?"
Taking in a breath he didn't really need, he collected himself to say, "I'm here because we were meant to be together."
"Oh, don't give me that old story!" she protested. "I have heard it loads of times now and it still doesn't convince me."
"Nevertheless, it's true," he maintained. "I'm not here to kill off every living person on this planet but for more personal reasons. Specifically, to remain by your side for as long as I am able."
Now in a huff, she pushed herself away from the door and stomped into her own bedroom, with him trailing behind. "Pft! You must think I'm a blithering idiot."
Only the truth would console her, he realised, and it was time to provide it. "No, I think you are brilliant, beautiful, adorable and most of all…"
"What," she wondered.
"You're my wife," he whispered. "Well, as good as."
"What does that mean: as good as?" she countered. "Good grief. We aren't married, not engaged, nor did we ever go out together. Shaun doing a bunk doesn't change that. I only met you for the first time a few months ago."
"That isn't true," he quietly insisted. "I remember what we were, what we did, how we really met; everything."
Unable to believe this good news, she blazed, "If this is your idea of a joke, it isn't very funny."
"Far from it," he agreed. "Being without you was the most painful time in my life."
"Good job you're dead now," she couldn't resist joking.
"The pain lives on. In my soul."
How could she not believe the pained sincerity in his eyes? It was etched into every line on his face. Every whisper of her anger faded away to leave compassion in its wake. "Then whoever let you come back here and go through it again is cruel. To both of us."
All he could do for a second was nod his head in agreement.
Sighing deeply, she opened her arms to embrace him, and he willingly took the hint. "What do I do now?" she softly asked.
"Meet Shaun," he advised. "It's the one thing you should do."
"But I might lose you," she claimed, holding him tighter. "I don't want to."
"I don't want to go either, but we both know I'll have to soon. I can feel something is about change," he reasoned, "and you have to marry Shaun."
She gave him a faint nod against his neck. "Okay. I'll phone him in a minute. Just let me enjoy this with you for a little bit longer."
As he'd said, he didn't want to go, so they clung together for several more minutes.
