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It had been a great day to be human again. Major had gone on a long run, relishing the sweat on his skin and the feeling of his muscles warming and stretching and just reaching the point where he knew they would ache pleasantly the next day. God, he had missed this! It just wasn't the same to work out as a zombie. And the hot shower afterward, the spray really soaking into his skin, the scent of the soap and shampoo, and a snack. Fresh-squeezed oj, carrot sticks and celery with that nice fresh crunch … and coffee. Lots of coffee.
By the time Ravi came home, he was ready for the next round of "god, I missed this" food—nachos. Fully loaded. Lots of guac. While he was making them, they did another round of flash cards. A couple of the pictures weren't immediately familiar to him, but he was in the middle of cutting onions. Likely he was distracted, he figured. He was sure he'd be fine. A few more days and they could assume Blaine was faking, and Major could just be happily human. Maybe Liv, too. The very idea had him singing as he piled toppings on the nachos.
"Oh, please, must you? Liv has been singing in the morgue all day, to the point where she hasn't managed to focus on anything else."
"Oh?" Major was pleased. She must be thinking of last night, the way he had been on and off all day.
But Ravi dashed those hopes almost immediately. "She's on a new brain. Apparently the girl was a hot mess. Seeing Liv today—well, that appears to have been an understatement." He gestured to the living room. "You want to go shoot some zombies?"
"Shoot some—?" Did Ravi mean Liv? Were they going to go to Fillmore Graves and try to—but Ravi was looking at him like he'd lost his mind, and it clicked. "Game. Right. Sorry."
"Uh-huh." Ravi watched him with concern as they headed to the living room with their nacho-licious snacks. "Maybe we'll play the shoot-Nazis one instead."
As they played, Major was pretty sure he noticed more instructions than usual coming from his gaming partner. They made a good team, able to overcome most levels with ease, but Major didn't remember ever hearing so many reminders of how to play before.
"Watch the machine gun nest," Ravi murmured, even as Major was handily taking care of it. As the nest blew up, Ravi nodded. "Good. You still know your way around Battle of Pegasus."
"Nazis are the bad guys, right?" Major grinned. "Nachos, gaming—we talk girls it'll be like old times. Nazi!" he shouted, watching Ravi attack the one he'd pointed out.
"So. Liv?"
"There's still somethin' there." Understatement. Everything was still there, underneath all the brains and the time apart. "But, I'm human again, so we're back to square one. Or two, or … I've lost count of the squares. Nazi!" They managed a quick brawl, coming out unscathed. "And stuff with Peyton?"
"She made her choice with Blaine. I probably drove her into his arms. Nazi." After they took care of the next group of assailants, Ravi added, "I left a lengthy apology on her voice mail."
"How'd she respond?"
"She didn't." Ravi cleared his throat, indicating that was as far as he wanted to go on that topic.
Major winced. That was a bad sign. A bad, bad sign. He collapsed against the back of the couch, letting his onscreen character stand there useless as he considered their current situation. "I remember girl-talk being more fun."
Ravi elbowed him in the side. "Go! The bunker. Do your thing."
Dragging his thoughts back to the game, Major did … something, but from the total disaster that erupted on the screen, he was pretty sure it hadn't been "his thing".
"And we're dead," Ravi noted unnecessarily, since it had been pretty obvious. He frowned at Major. "We, uh, throw grenades. Drop behind the wall. Remember?"
Suddenly he could picture it, remember the corresponding movements of thumbs and fingers that got it done. He winced. "Oh. Right, right, right. Brain fart." He sat up, readying the controller, resolutely refusing to look at his roommate, not wanting to see any expressions of pity or alarm over his potential memory loss. One missed opportunity in a video game didn't mean he was going under. He wouldn't let it. "Let's get it back."
The rest of the game went fine, but a lot of the fun had gone out of it. By the time Liv arrived, Major was cleaning up the nacho fest and thinking about where next to turn on his "remembering what food tastes like" odyssey. But he got distracted halfway through, seeing Ravi's stack of flash cards on the table, frowning at the ones he couldn't recognize. He thought there were more of them than there had been earlier.
He barely noticed when Liv came in, talking in a higher voice than usual, and a lot faster, while Ravi's voice was lowered to a whisper.
"Major?" she said loudly, coming toward him. "It's me. Liv. Remember? We used to be engaged, and—" She slid into the seat across from him.
"You became a zombie, then I did, now I'm not. It's complicated, but, yeah, I remember!" He had meant it to be a joke and ended with genuine relief that he did still remember all the steps along the way.
"Complicated. That is so us. We've always been complicated."
They hadn't, really, not until she became a zombie, but Major let it go, savoring the idea that he still remembered, and that Liv would, too, when she was on another brain. Or, human.
"It's okay," Liv told Ravi. "He remembers me."
"Yeah, but not Minor, his old football coach, or our coordinated bunker attacks on Battle of Pegasus." Liv glanced at Major to see if that was really a big deal, before Ravi continued, "We should do shifts. Checking in to make sure he's okay. Did you get the stuff for the blue solution?"
Liv's face was a total blank. Major would have to guess that was a no.
"The memory enhancing fluid I've been working on," Ravi reminded her. "I emailed you!"
She grimaced, groaning loudly in some semblance of apology. "Sorry. I'll get it tomorrow." She reached for Ravi's hands, shaking them with her fingers, and in a baby voice said, "You're not mad. Say you're not mad!"
Major looked at her, glad he didn't have to do that anymore. No more brains for him, thank you very much. And he'd be very glad when there weren't any more for her, either.