the beginning is the end is the beginning

So sorry for being away for so long, I'm not gonna lie, I had no inspiration for this story or basically any story at all. But the inspiration is back now and I'm determined to see this through, so don't worry, I'm not gonna leave it unfinished :)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.


Chapter 08 - Survivors

Violet hides her winning smile as her grandmother lays down the same card she needs to win, already gloating in her mind. She has a pack of cards in her hand her grandfather had stolen - or was it even stealing anymore? - from a shop to pass the time, and Tate behind her back, restlessly dedicating his time into pulling her attention away from the game at hand. He succeeds, most of the time, the things he's whispering in her ear making her cheeks flush and her legs press together.

If her grandmother notices - and Violet suspects she does - she doesn't say anything.

Now he presses a kiss to her neck then rubs his nose against her skin playfully and she suppresses her giggle, but even as she bites down hard on her lip, she can't contain her huge grin. Her grandmother throws her a disapproving look and Violet wonders what she must be thinking right now, but she can't have a word against her when her own daughter has lost her marbles and she watches that silently too.

She glances at Vivien in the front seat, staring blankly at the passing scenery, and lets out a sigh. So who's crazier: Vivien, for shutting down completely, or Violet for hallucinating her possibly dead or zombie boyfriend?

Her smile disappears easily now, her eyes losing all their previous shine as the dark, depressing thoughts enter her mind. Lately she's been having doubts. A lot. How long has it been since...? She dares not to think about time often, but she guesses it could have been three, four... god help, five weeks already.

How far is LA still? What if she can't find him in the big city anymore? What if he's not even there, left to a smaller town to survive, or left to find her? What would she do then?

Her breathing hitches, leaving her short of air in her lungs, her heart rate speeds up, beating rapidly in her chest. She's sure a panic attack is coming her way when her vision blurs but there's no thought of calming down in her mind when all she can think of is Tate, a zombie, Tate, dead, Tate, getting mauled by the undead monsters.

She barely registers letting out a quiet gasp or her grandmother's hands on her arm and her worried eyes, she's consumed in her thoughts, choked by them, until a strong grip on her shoulder turns her around and she comes face to face with those familiar dark as night eyes, boring into her own. It's like a flash of light in overwhelming darkness or a lifejacket for a drowning man. "Violet," he murmurs, his voice soothing, comforting, and she welcomes it gratefully. "Violet, it's okay. Don't panic. It's okay."

He stares into her eyes until she has no power to resist his spell anymore, completely enthralled, cornered into calming down. For a moment she forgets he's not real, she forgets what made her so upset in the first place, she fails to see anything else besides him as she leans in to kiss those soft enticing lips she's been dying to touch. It's a strangely peaceful moment, one she hasn't experienced in a long time, but now her obliviousness makes it possible.

Sadly though, all happy minutes have to end sometime.

It's her grandmother who pulls her out of this state, calling her name impatiently and when she turns back around, she's looking at her like an alien, which is honestly rather offending. She opens her mouth to make a nasty comment but she's interrupted by the sudden slowing of the vehicle. Her grandfather pulls the car to a halt and everyone simultaneously turns to see what's happened, even Vivien coming back to life again.

Violet's first thought is that they've run out of gas but as she looks out the window she realizes she's wrong. There's another car at the side of the road, a couple standing next to it with a teenage boy who she supposes is their son. He looks around her age. But the best part: they're most certainly not undead.

Her eyes widen rather comically, almost thinking she's just imagining things again. She has long ago given up on hope that they'll ever encounter survivors - who are not Tate, that is - after so long she just assumed there was no one else left, and those who did remain against the odds were hiding or constantly on the move, like them.

Seeing other people besides her degraded family and her imaginary Tate was not only surprising but freshening too. It means they're not the only ones left in this world. It means... that there's a chance they'll find Tate alive too.

And that's all she's asking for.


It turns out the family's Jeep broke down in the middle of the road and her grandfather, god bless his kind heart, offers to help them fix it. While the men work, the women are chatting idly, and Violet notes with delight that even Vivien is taking her part out of the conversation. It's just too bad that, from her experiences, this development won't last long.

Violet stands leaning against their car, arms crossed, with Tate next to her, mimicking her pose, and she finds it funny how he growls deep in his throat, his hands falling to his side as they clench into fists when the teenage boy approaches her. She pats his head, almost like she's telling him to stay put, like he's a fucking dog, and he opens his mouth to say something but the intruder beats him to it.

"Hey. I'm Gabe." He holds his hand out and she hesitates for a moment before shaking it, while Tate rolls his eyes next to her.

"Violet." She almost turns to introduce Tate before she remembers and bites down hard on her lip to keep the words in.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" He settles against the hood of the car, looking down at her. She can only imagine what they might look like: him, trying to make some fragment of a conversation, her, looking completely apathetic, and Tate, silently fuming and glaring daggers at the poor unsuspecting boy.

"I think I got used to it."

"How can you? It's just... awful."

"The world's always been awful," she shrugs. "It just wasn't that obvious before. Well... not for people like you at least."

"People like me?" He raises an eyebrow and she turns to look at him square in the eyes for the first time.

"People without a care in the world."

His lack of response tells her she's right. Before all this he was just another ordinary happy-go-lucky teenage boy who's biggest problem was which parties to attend and which girls to screw. It's because of people like him, she thinks, and their ignorance that this happened. Mother nature had enough.

Tate snickers quietly, his face gloating and smug. If he's more pleased by the demise of the boy or Violet sharing his grand views on life, she's not sure.

In the quiet that follows after, she can distantly hear the women conversing but she's not really paying attention, not until Tate's name comes up.

"And where are you heading?" Gabe's mother asks.

"Los Angeles."

"That's so far away."

Vivien nods, biting her nails, a habit she picked up when she wasn't being a brain dead zombie - no pun intended. Violet steps closer to hear their conversation better just as her mother answers and had Vivien known she was listening in she probably wouldn't have said what she said, but as it is she was standing with her back turned on Violet so she couldn't have known. "My daughter seems to think we'll find her boyfriend there. Honestly I just think we'll find a corpse. Or nothing at all."

"Mom."

The icy tone of her daughter makes the woman turn around, her mouth opening in surprise, and something like shame washes across her face but Violet is beyond caring. She's looking at her mother like Vivien only ever saw her looking at Ben, the face that says: I loathe you and your existence and the fact that I'm even related to you and I'd rather be dead than call you as my mother.

"Violet..."

The voice calling her name doesn't belong to her mother but to Tate but she ignores that too. White hot rage burns behind her eyes as she throws her mother one last look of contempt, then she turns around, wanting nothing more than to rampage and destroy and kill - she spent too much time with Tate, she thinks - but instead she starts walking, the shouts of her name and questions directed at her all flying by her ear.

When Tate tries to follow her she promptly tells him to go away and go away he does. Then she's alone with her thoughts.

She can't believe her. She can't fucking believe her.

The nerve!

What was she thinking anyway, that she's deaf? That she won't hear it?

Why is she even going through all this trouble if she doesn't think there's a chance they'll find him alive?

Fucking Vivien.

She doesn't even know about half the things happening around them, with being vegetative and all. She can't have a word.

Fuck her.

"Violet." It's Gabe. She doesn't slow down her pace. "Where are you going?"

"You know, Gabe, this is not the right time or place to hit on me."

"I'm not hitting on you," he shakes his head, still trying to catch up with her. "I just miss the company of someone my age... Hey, seriously, slow down. You do want to find that boy, right? No use getting yourself killed before you could."

She comes to a halt, but only because his comment hits home. He's right. Think of Tate. Gabe looks pleased that he was able to stop her while she looks less than amused, her 'don't fuck with me' look still in place.

"I'm sorry... about that. You know I'm kind of in the same situation."

She looks at him now, surprised, disbelieving and suspicious at the same time. "How so?"

"I have someone... who went on a holiday when it happened. To Europe." She can't help her pitying look when he confesses, because fuck, that's so much worse than her situation. She can't even imagine. Europe? He would never be able to get to Europe like this. If Tate was there... She would surely die. The poor kid. She now feels bad about the things she said earlier. He obviously doesn't have it easy anymore. But then again, no one does.

"It sucks that it had to happen on Easter, doesn't it?"

"Have you talked to her ever since?" she wonders. Was it just Tate who didn't answer any calls?

"Yes, I've talked to him, once."

"Him? Oh you mean..."

"Yes," he nods, smiling softly at her apologetic look. "Everything was still so fresh, he was trying to catch one of the planes to get home. Then nothing. I don't know if he ever got on that plane, if he's dead, if he's still stuck in Italy." He looks at her sideways, a strange gleam in his eyes that she thinks might be tears. "But you know all about that."

She nods and tries hard to swallow back a sob. The only man she's ever seen crying - besides her father, who could be hardly called a man - was her Tate. It didn't look gay or weak or pathetic on him, she always thought it made him strong, for being able to show so much emotion without shame. She loved that about him.

Seeing Gabe cry reminded her of that.

She clears her throat, taking long deep breaths to compose herself. She wants to ask him if he's having hallucinations too or is it just her, but she figures that might cross the borderline of crazy so she doesn't. It's probably only just her. Genes from Vivien and all.

Instead she asks, "How do you do it? How do you cope?" She would take any advises that might make her feel better.

"I don't." His voice is quiet, almost dead, and she marvels how quickly his seemingly cheery personality changed to this. "I mostly just try to keep the hope alive."

Hope for what?, she thinks but doesn't ask. There was nothing left anymore. If she finds Tate life won't be easier, just better. But the things they have to endure day to day will eventually kill them all.

These depressing thoughts could have very well been the end of her.

She almost doesn't hear the shout of her name in time, too alarmed and panicked to mean anything good, and she instinctively looks to her left as if she could feel it. They were here. About a dozen of them, emerging from the trees.

Surprisingly, she doesn't freak out, even though this is the closest she's ever been to one of them - after the case with her father. It's as if she was trained for these situations, and that's the only thing saving her life now. Her hand automatically reaches for the gun she keeps with herself, but she knows her best option is to run, back to the car, where her family is already waiting for her so they could drive away.

Fixing the Jeep was abandoned, Gabe's parents are already inside, but Violet has an inkling it won't save them. If the car won't start, they're doomed.

Both teenager run harder than they've ever run in their life but only one of them is meant to survive.

Gabe trips and falls and that's pretty much it for him. Violet looks back, just for a moment, but the zombies are already biting into his skin and there's nothing she could do to save him.

She forces herself to look away, to take a deep breath and continue running, and not think about how his death is the reason she can get away. As long as the things are preoccupied with him, they won't come after her.

It makes her feel physically ill and she wants to throw up but she doesn't, her legs carrying on until she reaches the car, getting inside with lightening speed. Tate is already waiting for her there but she shakes off his touch too because he's still not real, he'll never be fucking real, and now it's her fault someone out there, a boy in Italy, just lost their own Tate.

She tries not to look at the parents as her grandfather drives by them, but she can't help one glance. The mother cries, the father stares ahead with an expressionless look in his eyes, and they both look like criminals sentenced to death, waiting for their inevitable death.

Violet has no doubt in her mind that they won't have to wait long.


I'm thinking of joining livejournal and/or AO3. I actually have an account on both, I just don't use them, they look complicated :D I don't know, should I? Is it even worth it, what can they do that FF can't?

Oh, and you all Violators should check out my new icon. It might not show yet, but I just about died when I saw it. And I might have cried... but you'll never know.

Kisses, guys :)