A/N) Sorry about the delay. Updates will be sporadic, a lot of things are happening this year and it barely started.
Take care everyone and stay safe.
A heavy cloud of anxiety hangs over the entire Haven's people.
Boomer can hardly swallow from how thick it is. After the scavenging team had come back and Professor had found out about Brick, he'd gone frantic, taking a sample of Brick's blood and then studying it - it's late now, Boomer shudders when he remembers about what Butch said about the Zombies.
They're alive - they're - living? Or were they always living . . . they were sick people.
Boomer doesn't want to think about this. He stops pacing, he's been pacing for hours - he lets out a shaky breath, neither of his brothers where here. He was alone, in the dim dark of their cabin - with his thoughts.
He decides maybe he should go find Brick now or something.
With a shaky breath he steps out of the cabin and winces at the sadness that smacks his emotional radar in the face. Everyone was milling around, dragging their feet, looking at each other in worry. Boomer dreaded going out there. But he does - he walks through the groups of whispering fearful people and teary eyed people and - and that Robin girl was bawling uncomfortably miserable into her friends shoulder and Boomer thinks maybe he should run back into his cabin and lock himself in there because this kind of sadness hurt too much for him to deal.
His feet don't listen and keep walking.
He ends up outside of the infirmary tent - why here? Why? Seriously, of all the places he could have wandered to it had to be the very place where the source of all this sadness lay.
Boomer takes a slow peek between the heavy tarp covering the doorway.
Inside was lit by a faint glowing lamp. He briefly wonders how Professor got it to work, but then he sees Mitch - laid out on the cot, shuddering, sweating, skin graying, lips purpling - breathing shallow and - and he doesn't seem to have much longer to go.
Boomer feels his eyes sting, he doesn't know Mitch that well - but - but still...
"It's all my fault."
Boomer's breath hitches when he hears a quiet raspy voice that isn't in his head speak. He blinks the threatening tears away and catches sight of the short girl sitting on a crate hiding very well in the shadows of the tent.
Maybe I should go -
"I'm sorry Mitch - I - I really am."
She sounds weak - and small. Boomer's surprised - he doesn't know her very well either but he knew enough to know - weakness doesn't suit her.
"If I had just - you know . . . then maybe you wouldn't- and I - come on Mitchelson - you don't have to die, don't - don't die on us. . . come on." Buttercup's voice cracks and Boomer feels her heavy sadness, it weighs on his own heart and he pulls his head out of the door way and closes his eyes against the sniffles he hears from the otherwise terrifying girl.
His fists clench as he tries to keep from bawling like a baby - he really shouldn't be this pathetic. Boomer wishes - he wishes that this doesn't have to happen, that this wasn't the world they lived in, that bad things like this weren't real. He wishes everything was fine, and clean, and good, and - and like that time that he could hardly remember back when he was barely five years old - back when everyone took their lives and their world for granted.
"It's not your fault B."
Boomer heart stutters as he startles at the familiar voice coming from inside the tent, he resists the urge to peak again for another moment.
"Buzz off - you don't know anything." The girls snaps back, tone harsh and breaking at the edges.
Boomer takes a glance inside, surprised his brother was even here. What's Butch doing? Trying to make her feel better? That's weird.
"He was my friend too - "
"Is!" She snaps and stand, glaring up at Butch, "He is our friend," her eyes narrow and Boomer can see her defiant stance as she seethes at his brothers face.
Butch for his part, and the parts Boomer can see that aren't covered by shadows, looks at her without flinching - calm - and - what? Butch is calm? Since when was he even capable of doing 'calm'?
Boomer swallows thickly. Why does it suddenly feel like he's miles away from his brother even though he's six feet in front of him?
"Is our friend." Butch repeats in the flickering dark.
Buttercups fist clench, she looks ready to punch him - Boomer wonders if she will.
She struggles with something, her shoulders shake and suddenly, to the blond boy's horror, her fists unclench and she leans her forehead against Butch's shoulder.
"Shoot - " She cracks weakly. "I' - I'm pathetic. I - "Her words are cut off by a sudden series of tears and sobs. She seems more angry at the fact that she's crying at all then the reason she's actually crying.
"No you're not." Butch's arm wraps around the sad girl's shoulders and Boomer gapes at how - nice? - Nice - Butch was being so nice it was freaking him out.
"You're the most kick butt girl in this whole Haven. He'll be ok, Mitch's a fighter. He'll be ok." Butch's words sound short and hollow - like he's saying them without hearing them.
But Buttercup doesn't seem to care as she just stands there, dejectedly leaning her head against Butch like she belongs there.
"Boomer?"
The blond boy gasps and nearly jumps three feet into the air but ands up losing strength in his knees and falls in surprise.
"Oh my - Don't do that!" He whispers shakily, pounding his chest to make sure his heart hadn't jumped out.
Bubble's gives him a wide eyed curious look. "Sorry?"
He swallows, yah - maybe he shouldn't be eavesdropping though -
"Um - Professor wants to see you."
Boomer looks at the cute girl in front of him nervously and stand up. "Me?" He asks, dusting his pants off.
She nods, sunshine hear bouncing around her delicate shoulders as she reaches for his hand and tugs him along behind her. "Your brother too."
"My - What?" He doesn't comprehend what she's saying, his eyes glued to her hand that's holding his, heart forgetting to beat normally.
"Something about the tests."
Boomer swallows. "Um - right, the - the tests. Right."
He misses the funny look she gives him. He misses a lot of looks around him actually until she lets go of his hand and gently pushes aside a tarp.
Boomer blinks at the more brightly lit tent.
"Um - Yes"?" He forgot why he's here.
Professor, Brick, and Blossom were standing around a weird glass bowl with something in it.
Brick looks up and Boomer doesn't understand the inquisitiveness in his eyes.
"What's going on?" Boomer asks slowly, he's not sure wants to know.
"I've just been studying Brick's blood sample." Professor starts off and takes of his - what were they called again? Boomer has the name - right on the tip of his tongue - glasses! Glasses, Boomer doesn't know what they're for.
"And?" The blond boy is still unsure why he's here.
And where did Bubbles go?
"It's quite fascinating, I don't understand it completely but - but it seems he has some sort of antibodies in it that repeal the Zombie infection."
"Um - " Boomer blinks. Seriously - why is he here?
"He means I can't get Zombied." Brick says flatly and puts a hand on Boomers shoulder.
"That's -" Boomers eyes widen, can't get Zombied - really? But - but - how? Why? And why were they so creepily calm about this!?
"Booms - he wants to check your blood too - and Butch's."
Boomer startles, "Huh?"
Does that mean - but then all those years living in fear and - and what does that matter if everyone else can die and -
"But . . . um - say it's the same, what does that mean for - for everyone else?" Boomer stutters out, his heart speeds up, is this a good thing? Could this save people? He doesn't understand how this could work - he doesn't understand anything.
Not for the first time in his life does Boomer wish he was as smart as Brick.
"It means, if Professor can figure out how to separate the antibodies from your blood he might be able to - to make a cure." Blossom speaks up, now Boomer notices her hands are shaking.
"Oh." He says, eyes wide and blue and - hopeful. "Oh."
Brick nods. "Yah."
Boomer glances at the three people staring at him. "So - why are we telling me only?" He asks uncertainly.
"We don't want to get anyone's hopes up." Professor says, "Just in case." He looks away.
Boomer knows what the unfinished words of that sentence were. 'Just in case . . . it doesn't work.'
"What about Mitch right now?" Boomer asks slowly.
"That is what I need to find out." Professor lifts up a tall syringe with a needle in it. He dips the tip into the bowl and fills it up with some strange purple red liquid.
"Sir?" Boomer looks nervously at him, Brick's hand squeezes his shoulder unconsciously.
"It might work." Professor says calmly, too calmly. Boomers heart is in his ears.
"Might?" His voice sounds brittle to his own ears.
Brick tugs him closer.
"Might." Professor's face is stoic as he looks at the liquid inside.
"Professor - " Blossom starts carefully, hands shaking in her skirt as she grasps it.
The tarps flies open. "Mitch's dying!" Bubbles gasps, tears streaming down her face, hair wild, breath ragged as if she'd run a mile.
Boomer's blood electrocutes him and Brick is all but dragging him out of the tent at the same time Professor explodes from his seat, Blossom right with him, her eyes bright and horrified as they all run in a mess of limbs and fear towards the screaming sounds.
Boomer vaguely thinks maybe they should be running away from the screaming sounds?
Professor throws the tarp open, Boomer goes green as he takes in the sight of Buttercup and Butch holding a struggling Mitch down with all their might, the boy is totally grey flesh, eyes yellowing and cracking and bulging as he screams, the veins on his neck popping as he struggles against Butch's and Buttercups weight on him in their attempt to hold him down.
"Stop - stop Mitch, we - we don't wanna hurt you!" Buttercup screams over the boys blood curdling shrieks that make Boomer shudder uncontrollably.
Butch looks concentrated, face tight and grim as he pushes at Mitch's upper body with all his strength, which, considering it's Butch, was a lot.
Something cracks disgustingly in Mitch's shoulder. The screams sound like sandpaper and chalk on a black board.
"Professor!"
A crowd has gathered around outside, people shouting, asking what's wrong, friends shoving to get through, voices rising in desperate attempt to make everything stop, Boomer can't breathe, everything is spinning - he knew this would be bad but -
"We have to kill him - " Someone says desperately.
"No!" Buttercup shrieks.
"Wait - " Blossom shoves people back, "Professor we can't - we can't do this!"
Boomer see the man's face go ashen grey, he steps forward, needle ready -
"Professor!" Blossom sounds terrified as she grabs a sobbing Robin who's trying to get inside.
Mitch kicks Buttercup in the nose. The crack is sickening, she doesn't even cry as blood streams down her face and chin. Her eyes bright and Boomer swears she doesn't even have tears. "Do it - " She hisses viciously through grit teeth.
Brick surges forward to grab the other leg as Mitch thrashes with it.
Boomer's too stunned to move, too stunned to even realize Bubbles is bawling while clutching at his shirt and he's hugging her out of fear, as if that will somehow keep this morbid moment from being burned into his memory and haunting him forever.
"He might not survive." Professor says severely.
Mitch thrashes harder, no words coming out of his mouth just sounds and shrieks and growls and mindless garbles that sound like -
Boomer wants to throw up.
"Do it!" Buttercup screams.
Professor stabs the needle into Mitch's neck. The liquid drains.
Everyone freezes, collectively holding their breath, no one dares let any out.
The spring tightens, Mitch goes still mid scream, he wheezes a breath - his body convulses like a worm shriveling in the sun and then - he goes limp and silent.
Brick stand up, Butch does too - gingerly, as if afraid Mitch will suddenly shoot up and eat his face. Buttercup goes limp but stays on the floor, hugging the dying boy's leg.\, ignoring the drying blood on her face.
"Mitch?"
No one breathes.
All eyes strain on the unmoving body of young Mitch Mitchelson.
"Mitch?" Buttercup sounds broken as she shakes his leg pathetically. "You - you're okay now - you have to be okay now – Mitch - come on . . . please, please be okay." She's talking; her voice breaks and tears are running down her face. Smearing with the blood. Boomer doesn't think she notices as she weakly shakes her friends leg in some pathetic attempt to make him move.
Boomers throat constricts and he can't swallow, Bubbles buries her face in his shoulder and Brick shares a grim expression with Professor.
It didn't work - it - didn't work.
Blossom steps forward, releasing her friend, Robin falls to her knees and sobs, hugging herself in misery. Blossom places a gentle hand on her kneeling sister's shoulder, Buttercup doesn't move.
"We - we tried our best. This isn't your fault Buttercup - it's not." Her eyes look sad.
Buttercup doesn't snap or yell or even turn away. She sniffs and hugs her sister around her waist. Blossom sags tiredly and Boomer can see her blink back tears, turning her face into the unlit part of the tent as she pets her sister's hair.
Bubbles let's him go and falls into hugging Buttercup too.
The three girls cry together, as do everyone else, most disperse, unable to look at the still grey face of the young scavenger they've lost.
Professor puts a hand on Buttercup's head. "We have to set him to rest now Buttercup."
The dark haired girl nods through tears.
Boomers own face drips as he looks at his brothers - it could have been one of them . . . it could have been one of them - it could have been . . . he lurches forward and moves in closer to Butch's sagging back, his brother was wider than he was, always so straight and crazy strong and tough and probably mentally unstable but - it could have been him.
The blond boy knows he can't get away with this any other time, but Butch looks way to vulnerable and sad right now, so Boomer offers him a small physical comfort by leaning his forehead against Butch's back, between his shoulder blades. The dark haired boy doesn't move are snap. He just sort of leans back against Boomer, arms crossed tightly over his chest, Boomer knows he's holding it together. Brick won't look at either of them, and Boomer tries to stop his tears and grabs a fist full of Butch's shirt, gritting his teeth.
He hasn't see death - not like this.
They've never seen a living person get infected -
A few men come in and lift the limp body into a white stretcher and take it out solemnly. The girls and a few stragglers following it despite the tears.
Boomer shudders, they've only ever fought against Zombies, killing them had seemed so easy but now - now Boomer's afraid.
"We should go." Brick says quietly to them. Boomer realizes even the Professor was leaving.
"Professor." Brick calls to the tall middle aged man.
He turns to them, his face suddenly so much older than it was five minutes ago. "Yes?" He says quietly, hand on the tarp.
Brick fidgets uncomfortably. Boomer sniffs, concerned about his brothers discomfort. Brick's rarely uncomfortable about things.
"I- I'm sorry it didn't work." The red haired boy says, his voice almost smaller than a whisper.
Professor gives him a small smile that doesn't reach his tired grey eyes. "It's not your fault Brick, it was too sudden, to uncertain - the risks were higher than the reward . . . I knew that - it's not your fault in the slightest. Thank you for helping though. Thank you." The man says, his voice sad but genuine, he gives them all a short nod and leaves them alone in the flickering lamp light with nothing but heavy silence weighing down on them like the shadows.
"Brick?"
"Hmm?"
"I - what about. . . What about the blood? Our blood?" Boomer can't help asking as Butch finally straightens and turns to look at him.
Bricks' shoulders sag. "There's still hope Boomer - we just didn't have enough time for," Brick swallows - "Mitch."
Boomer nods, he suddenly feels tired, so very tired - his limbs weigh a ton each and he just wants to lie down and not move until the world isn't so black anymore.
"C'mon - we should go." Brick instructs quietly.
They follow him out without another word.
But Boomer can feel the weight of tonight's events on Brick's shoulders, and the blond boy has never seen his brother so turned down.
"Poor kid."
"Yah - I really didn't think Mitchelson would go out like his old man, did you Al?"
"No -" Al looks genuinely sad as the kid they'd wrapped up stay limp and unmoving. Yet another life taken from them so young. He hated his job - they were in charge of burning the bodies . . . never bury - burying them allowed for - regrowth and . . . Zombies. Burning allowed for them to rest in peace . . . wherever that may be.
"C'mon Pledge, let's just - get this over with." Al coxes his friend to start the fire as he sets the stretcher down carefully and pulls out a little black book. This book was passed down from his great grandfather when the world was a better place. He wasn't sure what it was called anymore since the title had been worried away, but it had some comforting words for the dead. So he reads them over the bodies - just in case it actually helps.
He hums the words out and turns towards Pledge who has the fire going larger.
Al closes his eyes and gives a few more words before he and Pledge turn to get the body.
His blood turns to ice in his veins.
The body - it's gone.
Pledge lets out a scream and Al thinks he might faint.
Mitchelson stands there, hands gripping Pledge's shirt, eyes hollow and yellow.
He lets out a groan and Al screams this time as the body lungs for them.