I don't own anything but my ideas.

NSPH Minor

Zoro's head snapped up at the same time that Killer's suddenly did, automatically tuned into Killer's ridiculous senses. Killer tilted his head slightly, staring at the table as he tried to pick up whatever he had thought he'd heard again. He didn't seem to be having any luck; he kept swiveling from right to left like a satellite dish, trying to find the signal, but he did reach up to scratch absentmindedly at his shoulder blade—a spot that always tingled if something was wrong.

Across the table from where Zoro was doing his advanced algebra work (Law refused to let either of them fall behind on their school work even with the schools closed), Kid was too absorbed in the engine he was working on to notice anything and continued with his adjustments. The kitchen and living room were littered with pieces of his projects, the garage being too far away to get to and from safely, and even if he could somehow get there with all of his limbs, his co-owners refused to come in to work with him because of the recent small-scale apocalypse.

Kid was not deterred by the lack of current buyers and planned to have it finished before the problem was cleared up so celebratory customers could instantly buy it. He swore that the last time he sold a car with an engine like the one he was working on now, he hadn't had to sell anything for months in order to live comfortably and was not about "to let some pussy-ass vampires keep him from doing what he loved just because they couldn't keep their teeth in their heads". Anything he sold after the car was just a bonus. Zoro still thought that selling anything right now would be a miracle. No one was buying anything but food.

The city was in ruins. The sky had been grey for weeks from airborne debris and when it rained it doused the ground in silt, dying the entire city a washed-out grey. Street lamps, signs, storefronts, and everything government had been ransacked by panicked people after the city had been closed off from the rest of the world—determined to keep whatever was killing people like the predator inside. The streets were barren, and littered with trash, pieces of cars, slashed tired, shattered glass and nearly every other kind of dangerous implement. Several buildings had gaping holes plugged in their sides from tank shells and were completely evacuated because they no longer provided any sort of coverage during prime attack times. Hundreds were dead, picked off by NSPH—still only referred to as terrorists (and human) by officials—or killed in the riots following the siege of the city.

The army had been marched at one point, but after more soldiers were found dead than helping to save the citizens, they were pulled out and people were left to fend for themselves. The only contact from the outside world was the food flown in by helicopters and dropped through holes punched in grocery store ceilings. Helicopters had stopped landing after one had been swarmed and its pilot killed as people fought viciously to get themselves and their families flown out of the city. Law and Kid went every week to what had previously been a madhouse of frantic people fighting tooth and nail for food.

They had brought Zoro and Killer to the first few insane scrambles, but after many deaths had occurred—including the one where Killer had almost been kidnapped and Kid had literally beaten the guy who tried to grab him to death with his fists in the middle of the crowd as people stood screaming and sobbing around them, soldiers with guns had been sent to package and equally distribute the food to keep people from fighting over it. Law hadn't let Killer come again, which meant that Zoro had to stay home to make sure he was safe.

Law had also started carrying Kikoku around over his shoulder, a sword that Zoro held in high respect, though the sword itself wasn't all that special—all of its power came from Law's own skill. Kid had taken to keeping a pair of leather gloves in his pocket for fighting and a gun stuck in his belt, but he was generally pretty confident with his hands.

The fact that Law had started keeping Kikoku on his person meant that Zoro had been able to take Wado with him nearly everywhere, and was always practicing with Kid, Law, Shanks, Luffy, Ace, and whoever else would take him up on bettering his skills. He'd even fought Mihawk once when he was snuck into the city to check up on them all and bring medical supplies for Law, but he hadn't stayed long. Mihawk hadn't seemed too impressed with how much Zoro had improved, and that was shoved under Zoro's skin that ate at him constantly, driving him to train as though his life depended on it. Which, as the city was going, probably wasn't far from the truth.

Killer's head finally stopped swiveling and whipped around to the window behind him, regardless of the fact that the thick boards nailed over the glass made it impossible to see out into the city—still swimming in dust from the recent shelling done by the military. He twitched uncomfortably again as he did so, reaching back to scratch his shoulder blade again. Zoro looked too, but he didn't hear or feel anything. Not even vibrations in the floors that would signal the tanks were rolling in again, looking out for a recent sighting of one of the "terrorists" that had taken over the city. The fact that Killer was still looking though meant that something was coming. Killer's "instincts," if you could call them that, were much more astute than anyone else Zoro had ever met because of the NSPH thing, and if Killer said the tanks were coming, Zoro believed him.

"What?" Kid asked gruffly, finally looking up, pliers still stuck deep in the metal contraption. Zoro looked over to meet his eyes, and then back to Killer, who was still trained on the window.

"…Tanks?" Zoro asked finally and Killer tilted his head to the side.

"I… no… I mean… it's weird."

Kid looking bored. He'd been tired of the tanks even before the first time they'd rolled through the city, just generally looking intimidating and not doing anything to help. He'd been angrier that they were tearing up the roads and that even if the NSPH situation was handled, no one would be able to drive anywhere until they redid every stretch of pavement in the entire city. "…Yeah?"

"It's not like…" Killer cocked his head back to one side, trying to hone in on something, "the vibration isn't coming from the ground. …I don't feel it in the floor at least, so I don't think it is."

Zoro blinked and looked back at Kid, surprised to find the older man's brown eyes wide and his hand frozen in the engine. His mouth dropped open with a slight popping sound and he floundered slightly as he seemed to try to find words.

Something had clicked.

"…Kid?" Zoro asked after a quiet moment.

After speaking wordlessly to himself for another moment, Kid drew in a deep breath through his nose and shut his eyes tight, massaging the corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. After another minute he returned to fiddling with the pliers in the engine. His glare was tight—a forced calm keeping his shoulders steady. That in and of itself made Zoro uneasy and he exchanged a glance with Killer. Kid never felt the need to keep his emotions in check.

"…Should… we get under something?" Killer tried after a silent minute and Kid shrugged.

"…No point really."

Zoro tried next. "…What do you mean?"

"We're on the fourteenth floor. Hiding isn't going to do shit if we're falling out of the sky."

"…The… tanks never make that much damage. Even with the exploding shells they've never taken a building down—"

"No, but if a bomber drops something on your head or launches a missile at anything in your vicinity it's not going to matter if you're under the bed or picking your nose, so you might as well finish that math or Traf will have a cow."

Zoro's mouth dropped open and Killer sucked in a quick breath, hiccupping slightly as it got caught in his throat.

"…They're sending in the air force?"

It was such… a wide range attack…

Kid didn't even bother to look up as he clipped the last wire and then placed the pliers on the side of the engine, laying the cover back over the machine. "Well, if it is the air force, the government has decided that tanks aren't strong enough and they need to start removing all possible threats."

Just like Law said. "…So what do we do?" Zoro asked angrily, infuriated by Kid's apathy, but the redhead gave him a look and Zoro backed down slightly.

"Nothing," Kid said firmly, heaving the engine off of the table and dragging it into the living room with the other finished ones. "You can't outrun it, and if this building or the ones around us get hit, we're fucked. So get comfortable and hope they don't drop one too close."

Zoro and Killer sat gaping, unable to completely understand what was happening. Especially with Kid milling about like there wasn't anything happening. This was the man that Zoro had seen not two weeks ago drive someone's eyes so deep into their skull his fist was literally dripping with brain matter; blood splattered down his front, framing his maniacal expression; eyes on fire with the desire to end the person that had threatened his son. It had taken Law two full minutes to tear Kid off of him and by then the man was long dead, blood pooling around his head like it was pouring from a hose.

"Also, don't scream," Kid added harshly as an after fact. "Either of you, I don't want to go out hearing that."

He didn't want to die hearing the people he'd risked his life countless times for afraid and be unable to do anything. Zoro leaned forward heavily, setting his chin on the table and staring off at the wall. His muscles were tight, but his mind was impossibly quiet, and a strange electrical feeling was jolting uncomfortably up and down his spine with the need to scream or run or get angry or attack something but unable to find the desire to in his lungs. Killer looked back and forth between the two of them, visibly growing more and more anxious by the second, and then Zoro felt the vibrations too. Unfamiliar ones that shook the walls instead of the floor and made the windows hum. All three heads turned to the window Killer had been looking at earlier as a drone started off in the distance, low and ominous.

…This could be it.

This could literally be the end of everything.

The heavy fear that oozed through his body was like sludge, choked by the inability to do anything to change the situation. If he'd had the opportunity, he wondered if he would have reacted differently—grabbed Killer and hid; gotten angry at Kid and screamed when he didn't contribute enough; been terrified instead of suffocated by his own impending death.

"Is…" Killer said suddenly, and Zoro made his head turn to look at him, "is Dad going to be ok?"

Kid was silent. He'd just placed the engine carefully on the floor and away from feet bumbling around in the night—assuming that they'd all still be able to walk by nighttime—and remained crouching on the floor, one elbow on the chair next to him, keeping him propped up. His shoulders dropped slightly as he let out a slow breath and adjusted the neon blue bandana on his head.

"The military generally avoids hospitals," he answered finally, but by his tone he very clearly didn't believe what he was saying. "Like, out of principal. You know, don't kick a man when he's down and all that crap."

Zoro felt the lead weight plummet further down his throat.

"The NSPH haven't been attacking hospitals either, so hopefully no reason to target there. Maybe sick blood is thicker or weaker or something."

This was too quick. Too soon. It was ridiculous. This couldn't be it. They'd worked so hard to stay together and keep each other safe and now Law wasn't even here and their own country was attacking them for something that wasn't their fault—

Was Law afraid too? He didn't have Killer's instincts with him, did he even know what was coming? Zoro couldn't even remember if he'd said goodbye this morning, or even if he'd been awake at all. Had he snapped at Law? He was never in a good mood when he woke up. Had Kid kissed him or had the morning been rushed to get Law to work safely? What if they survived and Law died? Kid would snap. He would literally go insane. He would start hunting down the NSPH and get himself killed. Law was the only thing that kept him stable, no matter how much he cared for Zoro and Killer. What if they died and Law had to identify their bodies? Or they were just shipped off to keep disease from spreading and Law came home to an apartment building lying in ruins on the sidewalk and no one around?

"Kid—" he said, voice out of breath and obviously rushed even though he hadn't been speaking or moving at all and whirled to face the man he really should have been calling father along with Law all of these years, sure that there was some way to convince him that they could run or get a couple floors downstairs to avoid the major attack or—

Kid laid a hand suddenly on his shoulder and Zoro jumped, head snapping up to where Kid's eyes had taken on a strange calm, not really looking at either him or Killer. His tranquility wasn't forced anymore, and Zoro couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"Let's go sit on the bed or something," he murmured, tugging on Zoro's shoulder when he didn't move. In the distance, a hollow explosion shattered the unearthly quiet and Killer was out of his chair in an instant, sprinting down the hall and into the bedroom with uncanny speed. Kid followed after him and Zoro scrambled out of his chair, thick fear keeping him from being left alone.

Killer was already buried under the covers, waiting for them, and upon closer inspection Zoro realized that he'd pulled on one of Law's sweatshirts over his clothes. He glanced up at Kid, sure by the momentary pause in Kid's step that he'd seen it too, but neither of them stopped and soon had Killer wedged between them on the mattress. Zoro pulled the covers up to his chin but Kid stayed on top, head resting laxly up against the wall and legs stretched out in front of him. A blank, emotionless stare clouded his face and Zoro looked away, focusing his attention back on Killer as another blast—much closer this time—broke the air.

Killer nestled into Kid's side and Kid finally seemed to snap out of his funk, wrapping a long arm around both of the two of them and crushing them to his side. Zoro closed his eyes and found a comfortable position, lying still for a moment. The twinging anxiety quickly got the better of him though and he wrapped his arms around Killer and Kid as tightly as he could for some form of release.

Another explosion. The walls of the building jostled them and the lights flickered, but everything continued to hold. Zoro's mind, tuned into counting his sit-ups and clocking his pushups, began counting down the seconds it had taken between the last one and the one before it. The droning of the planes was like a cloud of irate hornets, hovering outside the door and waiting for the walls to be blown open so they could swarm in for the unprotected bodies lying on the bed.

Twelve. Eleven.

"…I wish Dad was here," Killer whispered into Kid's side and both he and Zoro squeezed the small boy tighter.

Nine. Eight.

Kid took a huge breath and let it out in a rush, eyes still unsettlingly tranquil. "Yeah, me too."

A dark voice in Zoro's head, without any authorization or want from him, finished the sentence for Kid:

But we'll see him soon.

Five. Four.

And then, still without any consent:

…I wonder if Kuina will be there.

Two.

Stop, he ordered darkly, and then closed his eyes and buried his face in Killer's shoulder. He felt the automatic reaction as the two others braced themselves, turning into each other for some sort of protection.

One.

It was like the floor had incinerated beneath them. Zoro felt his head smash against the wall behind him, deafening noise obliterating his ears and sending his equilibrium reeling. The ceiling rained in on top of them, plaster and glass connecting violently with the exposed parts of his body and slicing through the blankets, and then in the same instant it had started, it was done. The only sound left in the room was Kid hacking profusely.

"Fucking goddamn piece of shit military! Why don't they just tow in an atomic bomb and level the whole fucking city?!"

Zoro twitched experimentally, feeling Killer still held securely in his arms, and peeled open his eyes, trying to see around the blood dripping into his eyes to the rest of the room. Black and brown grit floated through the air as if they were submerged in water, and he couldn't see more than ten feet in front of him. The bright light from the right side of the room made him guess that a pretty sizeable chunk had been blown out of the wall—if not the ceiling and the floor too. His ears were ringing, a high pitched whine that damn near drowned everything else out, but if he could still hear then the bomb must have exploded far enough away that the building wouldn't collapse. And it didn't seem like he would lose his hearing, which was always good. He tried to take a breath but dust swamped his lungs and he coughed harshly.

"Fucking Christ! It's like we're living in World War II and any cost is fine as long as the goddamn enemy has been annihilated! Next time shit like this goes down, as long as we're descending into a forced-seceded city we might as well kidnap some of their fucking family and hold them hostage here! Then we'll see if they send in the fucking air force!"

There was the anger Zoro had been looking for in Kid.

It had a strangely calming effect.

"Missiles! Fucking short-range ballistic missiles! FUCK!"

He strained to follow the sound of Kid as the older man crashed his way through the furniture and plaster toward the light, watching as the flaming red hair disappeared into the cloud of dust. Zoro tried breathing in slowly again and then coughed, lungs still burning with whatever had filled the air. The wind was whipping it into his face, only securing his idea that they were missing a good part of the wall, but it was helping in clearing the room so that he could see. Zoro found Kid's outline at the hole in the wall that had also blown an opening into his room next door and his hand instinctively snapped to his side where Wado was hanging. He let out a slow breath—safe—and coughed again, pushing the covers away from their bodies.

Kid was hanging out of the hole, looking above and below, no doubt to check the sturdiness of the building and see if they needed to leave now or if they could collect themselves first. He didn't seem too rushed, and finally fixed the ripped and bloodied neon blue bandana on his head before looking back over his shoulder to the two still on the bed.

"You ok?" he called. Zoro couldn't tell if his voice was muffled because his vocal cords were caked in dust or because Zoro still couldn't hear correctly.

Zoro nodded, coughing again heavily, before he suddenly remembered Killer in his arms and looked down to make sure he was fine too.

Zoro froze, eyes shooting open and he gasped—loudly—yanking back in shock from the blood drenching the blankets under him, soaking through to his clothes and staining his hands red. Zoro shook, fingers twitching as he tried to remember what they were supposed to be doing, what Law had taught him to do for emergency first aid treatment, and he scrambled to his knees, pulling Killer away from his awkward position on the wall. The blond head lolled heavily to the side, and when Zoro dropped him in shock from the odd movement and he sprawled out on the bed like a ragdoll, blood pouring out onto the bed.

"No," Zoro choked out, yanking on Killer's clothes and trying to find the source of the bleed. "No. No! Kid! Kid!"

Kid was at his side in a heartbeat, pushing Zoro's hands away with one hand and tearing Killer's shirt down the middle with another. A shard of glass bigger than Kid's hand had shot through all of the debris and buried itself deep in Killer's collarbone, slicing straight through Killer's throat, which had been in its path. Zoro let out a sharp keening sound, a sound he'd never heard himself make before, and he scared himself with the amount of sheer desperation behind the tone. He reached desperately for Killer's limp form.

His jugular…

"What do we do?" he wailed, terrified to touch the glass and make it worse. There was so much blood. There was so much blood. "What do we do?!"

Kid was frozen, one hand fisted in Killer's shirt, the other one locked painfully around Zoro's wrist, holding him like a vice as he tried to come up with something—anything. Zoro could deal with broken bones, they were nothing new, and the pain might help get his mind locked on the problem. Nothing else seemed to be able to cut through the throttling feeling of hopelessness. He felt his own breathing start to go shallow.

Kid dropped his hand suddenly, and before Zoro could scream for him to stop—that he'd only make it worse, if such a thing was possible—the older man gripped the fragment tightly between two fingers and slid it out of Killer's chest with a grotesque squelching sound. Blood spurted upwards, catching both of them in the face and Zoro flinched violently, lurching back and away from Killer's dying form. Zoro wasn't sure he was breathing anymore.

Kid pressed his hands roughly over the wound, holding it together in a last desperate attempt, and Zoro paused, flabbergasted, before a deranged laugh leapt from his tongue, an unhinged look bleeding into his eyes.

This was Kid's brilliant plan? He'd been with a doctor for twelve years and the best he could come up with was to hold the flesh together and try to stop the bleeding? The blood was probably gushing into his lungs too if the slice through his throat said anything.

"He's dying!" Zoro screamed, his voice hysterical and unfamiliar. "That's not going to do anything!"

Kid didn't answer, but his glare darkened and he pressed harder on Killer's chest, making the bedsprings groan under them. Zoro threw his hands over his eyes, gritting his teeth as he racked his brain for anything Law would have said about any injury like this.

"Weaklings can't pick their way of death."

That's what he would have said. Maybe not exactly worded like that, especially if he was talking about Killer, but that's what he would have said.

Zoro dug his fingers into his scalp, tucking his chin into his chest.

They were going to lose him.

Zoro's diaphragm spasmed and he sucked in a choked breath, moving his hands to look down at the blood flooding over the tiny body. Zoro gripped the hilt at his side and held it as close to him as he could, holding his breath when he felt another spasm coming.

Zoro swallowed heavily, leaning forward to brush Killer's hair away from his face—one last chance to say goodbye to him—and Killer's vibrant copper eyes suddenly shot open. Zoro jerked back again as Killer coughed suddenly, blood spitting up from his lips like a tiny geyser and spattering his cheek. He rolled over onto his side, pulling away from Kid's hands to hack into his hand, blood spraying across the sheets with every breath.

Zoro twitched slightly, reaching for him, but Kid grabbed his arm and held him back, shaking his head. "He has to get the blood out of his lungs or he won't be able to breathe."

Zoro sat gaping as Killer gasped for air before finally calming down and rolling over onto his back with enough care to indicate exactly what kind of pain he was in. He whimpered, bottom lip quivering and tears leaking out from under where his thick bangs had fallen back into place. Zoro would normally have instantly been at his side—protectiveness kicking into hyper drive at the sound he rarely heard Killer make, but the shock of the sealed wound in his collarbone, now barely even oozing blood, held him motionless. The next pained cry Killer made however—so much more agonizing than the last—had Zoro dropping to the bed next to him and pulling him into a light hug.

"Easy, Killer," he murmured, holding the shaking boy as tears poured down his face. "You're going to be ok."

Killer gritted his teeth, rocking his head from side to side as he tried to find a comfortable position. He pawed helplessly at the torn up skin where part of the collarbone was still poking through, not really seeming to be sure where the pain was coming from, but Kid took his hands to keep him from scratching the skin open and they just lay there and let Killer cry, twisting every once and a while in an attempt to get away from the pain.

"It itches!" he moaned, burrowing into Zoro's front, and Zoro held him tighter. "And it really hurts!"

Zoro looked futilely at Kid for anything they could do, but Kid just shook his head and Zoro positioned himself to wrap his body more around the younger boy, cringing the next time Killer sobbed.

As much as he didn't want to see the thing that had almost taken his brother from him, Zoro's eyes kept drifting back to Killer's front where the gaping hole had become an old slash. Even the bone peaking through was gone now. And even as Zoro and Kid sat watching, Killer's skin continued to knit itself back together right in front of their eyes. Every once and a while the brand new pink skin would bubble and Killer would let out a half scream, squirming against the painful feeling, and then the bubble would drop back down into his skin and the new, stretched cells would crawl towards the other side of the lesion, as if the two sides were calling to each other.

Minutes ticked by, ten, fifteen, twenty, and with every passing moment the fatal laceration in his front looked less and less traumatic and more and more like he'd cut himself playing on the playground. The two sides of the cut had finally reached each other, and as the movement in his skin grew slower and slower, Killer's crying faded to incoherent whimpers. The bubbling had stopped, and now only the pink skin and the fresh scar tissue remained as evidence. It was as if the skin had stopped panicking once the danger of infection or exposed bone was removed and was content to let Killer's body heal naturally.

If naturally was the word.

Killer's eyelids fluttered as he tried to keep himself awake, head flopping from side to side as he kept trying to look up at either one of them—being unable to keep his focus on either in particular. Every once and a while he would attempt to mutter something but it was never intelligible. His eyes rolled back into his head several times before he just couldn't keep his head up anymore and it dropped heavily to the bed next to Zoro. His breathing was finally back to a normal pace.

Zoro ran his hand gently up and down Killer's arm as his eyes quivered again, still trying to stay awake.

"Easy, Killer," he whispered, suddenly tired himself as the adrenaline left his system. "You can sleep, we'll all still be here."

Killer tried one last time to look over at him, and then his head slumped back and his breath evened out to slow, deep inhaling and exhaling. In the distance, the sirens of the last two remaining ambulances and one fire truck could be heard wailing towards the wreckage.

-oOo-

Zoro slammed a backpack crammed full of cans and packages of food down on the kitchen table next to two more backpacks of supplies that he and Kid had filled. Barely anything except the main structure of the apartment had survived the blast; most of the furniture lay splintered or split in some irreparable way, the cabinets and fridge had been knocked open and most of the glassware and dishes were in fragments across the floor, the bathroom door had been taken off of it's hinges and most of their clothes had too many holes and singed areas in them to wear anymore. What was viable had been stuffed into the blue backpack. For Zoro, two pairs of pants, three shirts, any boxers that had survived, whatever socks available, and a coat that he would wear on the way over to the hospital. For Kid, one shirt, three pairs of ratty jeans, and some of Law's boxers and socks—his had caught on fire during the scramble to keep Killer from bleeding out. For Killer, four shirts, one extra pair of pants, and some of Zoro's socks and underwear. Killer's measly stock of sweatshirts and coats had been ripped apart like road kill in the blast, and Kid had been left with one coat that now had a gaping hole through the back. Most of Law's things had been moved to the hospital for easy transportation and for donation to patients, meaning that the scant amount of clothing left would barely be enough for him. He and Kid would have to share.

Kid had started a separate bag for fighting gloves and assorted bandanas, goggles and other headwear. Zoro hadn't bothered trying to keep him from this, especially when Kid took a moment to go around the ruins of the apartment—basically collapsing in on top of them—and collect some of Law's things, including a favorite hat and pair of boots, cow print jeans, and then whatever else could be salvaged. He also picked up scraps of Killer and Zoro's favorite clothes, possibly to make something else out of, and Zoro rolled his eyes, returning to the more important job of making sure they wouldn't be taking the hospital's food if they had to stay there.

The food bag set up next to the clothing bags and a bag of medical supplies left in the bathroom and water bottles, Kid and Zoro shared a tired glance before both moving to put on their shoes. Zoro used a large strip of splintered wood from the ceiling to remove a chunk of plaster that had sliced through the toe of his right shoe and tested it to make sure it wouldn't fall apart while they were walking. Satisfied that it would hold, he grabbed the most in-shape pair of shoes for Killer and trudged through the debris to the bedroom where Killer was still unconscious on the bed.

Zoro climbed up, ignoring Killer's mouth hanging to the side in an unnervingly dead manner and threw the covers off of him, kneeling down to wrestle his shoes on. Killer didn't even flinch, though Zoro was being far from careful, his movements growing harsher and more frantic as Killer continued not to react.

"Weaklings can't pick their way of death."

Zoro swallowed and took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush as he stilled his hand on Killer's remaining shoe. Killer wasn't weak. A wound like that would have killed anyone else in an instant. He wasn't weak and he wasn't going to die.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

Zoro finished cramming the limp foot into the shoe and jerked the strings into a knot, not even bothering to keep the laces from hanging. It wasn't like Killer was going to trip on them or anything.

"Ready?"

Zoro looked back to the remains of the doorframe where Kid was leaned stoically against what was left of the wood. The neon blue bandana he was wearing earlier had been replaced with a deep red one for better camouflage as darkness continued to fall, and the hood of his sweatshirt—awkwardly clinging to his shoulders with the massive hole in its back—had been pulled up to keep his bright red hair hidden from any lights or people that may know them. It was too dangerous to take any risks. He stalked forward and dropped the three backpacks on the bed, jostling them and making the mattress squeak. Not that Killer noticed.

Zoro nodded at him slowly, and then pulled his own hood up to hide his hair, which sometimes seemed to glow under the right lights. Zoro jerked back as something was thrust into his face, blinking at the strip of cloth that Kid was holding out for him until he realized that it was another bandana so that he wouldn't have to worry about keeping his hood up as they ran. He reached out and took the cloth, pausing at the material, worn soft by with years of use. It had obviously been loved. He looked up at Kid, owl-eyed in question and Kid shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes.

"We, uh… we don't know if the hospital got hit yet," he said finally, shifting the backpack on his arm in an attempt to keep from feeling so uncomfortable under Zoro's scrutiny. "…He won't need this if it was. …And it was kind of mangled anyways, not much left to it."

Zoro's eyes dropped back to the bandana and flipped it over, scanning the black cloth for the mark even though he knew—

There.

On the bottom corner, tucked carefully into the stitching, was yellow embroidery thread in the shape of a two curved T's and a section of a circle under them—the corner of an abstract sun that almost resembled a virus, adorned with a devilish smile and hand-stitched into the black fabric back when it had first been purchased. It was a symbol Law had taken on during his years underground, and continued to carry with him even nine years after getting out. Zoro's fist closed unconsciously around the fabric and he pulled it into his chest, biting on his tongue to keep his lip from shaking before he tied it tightly over his head and almost completely over his eyes, making sure all of his hair was tucked away.

"Let's go."

Kid nodded and leaned over, grabbing Killer's limp form by one arm and swinging him over his back. The heavy blanket followed, hiding Killer against his back and Kid tied it around his shoulders and waist to hold him like a sling. Killer didn't stir once, and had it not been for the shallow but steady breathing, Zoro would have been convinced he hadn't made it from the loss of blood.

"…Should we… feed Killer? Before we go? I-I can just make a little cut, all of the stuff in the fridge was contaminated but—"

Kid shook his head and slung the pack of water bottles over his shoulder, handing the other two to Zoro. "We need all of our strength to get to the hospital, and to be honest, I don't know if he'll be lucid enough to eat like this. And even if he ate, we'd be walking, bleeding targets for every predator with a decent sense of smell and we'd have a mile of open NSPH territory between this death trap and the hospital."

Zoro looked out the massive hole in the wall where the plaster and cement had been shattered, tracing the last rays of the sun as they licked like fire against the horizon and the still-standing buildings. The light was swirling through the dust saturating the air, flickering every once and a while to catch him in the eye before it disappeared again behind the thick, grey cloud. They were losing their light fast. Below them on the street, through the settling dust, he could see flashes of people as they darted from the destroyed buildings, scattering like bugs, all frantically hoping that they were each picking the direction the predator wasn't in.

Zoro checked the bandana once more, yanked the hood up over his head, and pulled the zipper up tight to his chin. Each pack went on one shoulder, and then he looked over at Kid, still a full ten inches above him despite Zoro's recent growth spurt, and nodded, turning abruptly and heading towards the remains of the front door.

"Zoro."

"Yeah?"

"Wrong way. That's the bathroom."

"…Shut up."

"I'm leading."

-oOo-