AN: Sorry last week's chapter was so incredibly late. I'm on a completely new schedule at work, and between that and the fact that I'm currently attending two different schools, I kind of lost track of the days. But hopefully this chapter makes up for it, because it has GR! It was really fun to write for him and creating the backstory for him and N. So, enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen

GR

I've never been one for getting sentimental. It's a waste of time and all it really does it make you weak. There's no time for being weak, not with the way the world is nowadays. It's not easy out there for anyone, Living or Corpse. Weakness gets you either eaten or shot, respectively. I never get sentimental. It's probably why I've lived so long.

N, on the other hand, is incredibly sentimental. He's not like others. He might be dead but the kid's still got heart. He's soft; prone to sentiment and emotion and nostalgia and all those other things. I think that's why he collects all his little trinkets, because he likes to think about how things must've been Before. He feels things more than any of us.

He was that way Before too. I still remember that day when I found him. Or rather, he found me. I was alone in the station, like always, and I heard the gunshots first. Then he came barrelling in like hell was on his heels - which it was, in retrospect, since those gunshots had attracted a crowd of hungry Corpses. He had been shouting but the moment his eyes fell on me he went still.

Now I'm never one to turn down a fresh meal when it stumbles into my path, but I'll admit I did hesitate a second before going after the kid. He just looked so heartbroken. I remember he said "Chief" before I charged and I could smell the salt of tears over the warmth of meat. He didn't fight me. That was the weirdest part. He didn't fight back even though he had a gun in his hand and another across his back.

I should've eaten his brains and been done with it. The kid just wasn't built for this life, he didn't deserve it. He wasn't hard enough. But in the end I just couldn't do it. I felt bad for him, maybe. It was the first flicker of anything that I'd felt since waking up as a Corpse and it was so overpowering I couldn't fight it. So I ended him as quickly and painlessly as I could. Between my hands at his neck and the blood pouring from the arm I'd taken a bite out of - I tried to apologise for that later when he woke up but I don't think he understood me - he didn't last long.

The last word on his lips was "Dad" before he faded out.

After he woke up - scared, Hungry, and with no memory of me trying to eat him - I took him under my wing. I told myself I was just going to keep an eye on him for a bit, make sure that he'd acclimatised to being a Corpse well enough, but it became apparent pretty quickly that N wasn't like the rest of us. Whatever it was about him Before had stuck around in a way and he stayed naive and soft despite his new species. So I stuck around. I was there when he needed someone to talk to - or grunt at, rather - and I never let him go into the Living populated areas without me.

I could never explain it, but I felt protective of the kid. It might've been because I was the one who turned him - he's the only one I've ever turned instead of just killing - or maybe just because I felt sure he needed the protection, but I was determined to keep him safe.

Then he had to go completely insane and pick up a Living friend and all that hard work went to shit.

I watch the blue truck drive off into the night, carrying N and his Living companion away from the place we've made our home. It's hard to make sense of what the hell is happening, really. I can feel that there's something big going on though, something that's centred around the two of them. We all can feel it; I can tell by the way the other Corpses backed away and let them escape instead of eating her - Audrey, N had called her - and him as well just for good measure.

Well there's no reason to be standing around in the road. I turn and start on my way back to the station. Perhaps the madness is over now and we can all just go back to the way things were before. I glance up as I pass a building with an elaborate marquee that's missing half its letters and something in one of the windows catches my eye. It's a poster, probably advertising some long ago film but I can't read to be sure, and it shows a couple holding hands in front of a sunset.

An image flashes behind my eyes - Audrey slipping her hand into N's, their fingers threading together like the pieces of a puzzle. And then they all start coming in a rush, one after the other: another pair of hands, one thick and rough and grizzled while the other is smooth and tiny, smaller than the palm of the first hand; a little brunet boy with a blue cast on his arm, sleeping in a big bed with a flannel blanket; N, his eyes unclouded and his face unmarked, younger and more alive even than he'd been the first time I saw him and a faint smile on his lips.

The flood of images is broken by a sudden sharp throb in my chest and I take a step back, pressing the heel of my hand against my ribs. What the hell? I look sideways and there's another Corpse standing beside me, his dull eyes fixed intently on the poster. He too is rubbing a hand over his chest. "F-f-feel it?" I ask because I have to know. Have to know that it isn't just me cracking up finally, that there is something real happening.

The other man turns to me, his brown eyes gold beneath the fog, and blinks. "Y-you, f-feel it?" I press, almost desperate now. A crowd is forming behind us, a handful of other Corpses all clustering to see what's going on.

And he slowly nods.

My eyes widen and I turn back to stare at the poster, at the hands that are intertwined - just like N and Audrey, just like the hands I somehow know belonged to me and the little sleeping boy. What is happening to me? Are these memories? I don't have any memories from Before, nothing from before the moment I woke up in the station without a heartbeat but with an overpowering Hunger. Am I starting to remember my life? And if so, why now?

A growling from behind makes me and the other Corpses turn and we find ourselves facing three Boneys. One of them walks straight up to us, clicking somewhere in the back of its throat, and it leans in right to my face. It sniffs me suspiciously and I can't stop the shudder of fear that rolls through me as I stare back into those hollowed out eye sockets. This is new. This has never happened before. Boneys have never shown an interest in Corpses before, apart from snarling at us to stay away from food.

The Boney shrieks and I jump in surprise. As it continues to advance on me I back away. I wonder if maybe it's one of the Boneys that was chasing N and Audrey, if maybe it's mad at me for helping them. Do Boneys even think of things like that? Since when do I think of things like that?

More Boneys start showing up, backing all of the gathered Corpses out onto the main road and not letting up. After a block of them hissing and snarling at us every time we try to stop or wander off, I feel like I've gotten the general idea.

We're not welcome here anymore.

I exchange glances with the Corpses on either side of me, and then we all turn on our heels and get the hell outta dodge.

AUDREY

I lay awake for a long time, trying to ignore the faint rustling sounds of N shifting about on the floor of the bedroom. I roll Chris' necklace through my fingers. I had given it to him sometime last month when I'd found it during one of our salvage raids. I hadn't even known he'd kept it, let alone that he actually wore it. I feel tears come to my eyes and I blink them back.

It's been easy to not think about Chris for the last few days while I've been so preoccupied with staying alive myself, but I can't stop the thoughts from coming now. I loved him, I really did. It's been harder and harder to be close to him for the last year since his dad died, but that doesn't change the fact that I care about him. Some part of me will always love him, or at least love the man that he was when we first met. And now he's gone, dead, for good. I'll never see him again.

And it's because of N.

I try to be rational about it. N didn't know who he was to me when he killed him. He didn't even know me then. If N hadn't killed him, one of the others most likely would've. We were horribly outnumbered and there was no way we'd have survived. It wasn't N's fault.

But I just can't shake the cold feeling that's settled in my gut. It's hard to forgive him, and it drives home the fact that I've been slowly forgetting over the last few days: N is a Corpse. He's a cold-blooded killer, and all of his sweet charm and puppy eyes doesn't change that truth.

I roll over, trying to pretend that I'm still asleep in case N is watching. Squinting through my lashes I see that he's lying on his side facing away from me and he's not moving. Sulking, apparently. If there's ever a chance for me, it's now. I get out of bed as quietly as I can and pull on my still-damp clothes. I tiptoe out of the room, keeping a cautious eye on N but he doesn't react. He must be deep in whatever he's thinking about.

When I reach the hall I pick up my pace, hurrying downstairs. I grab my bag and then my eyes fall on the stack of polaroids we took earlier. On the top is the first one of N, his puppy eyes wide with surprise. Smiling, I pick it up and tuck it in my bag before I slip outside.

The engine in the truck takes three tries to start this time and I spend the whole time convinced that N is going to come out at any minute and catch me. What will I do if he does? How do I explain it to him? That even though I rationally know it's wasn't his fault, I'm angry at him for something he couldn't control? I let out a breath of relief when the truck finally starts and I peel out of the driveway and into the pre-dawn glow.

It's time for this whole thing to be over. I'm going to go home and get on with my life and forget that N and this experience ever happened.