surviving

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    The vodka tasted bad, but he drank it in quick gulps. He was beginning to feel less like he was just a little loopy and more like he was dizzy, kinda confused, kinda emotional. Which was why he felt a short burst of anger when she took the cigarette again from him. "Hey!" he snapped, getting to his feet, wobbling. "I betcha Hansen likes punk boys. Speci-- spefic-- 'specially ones with a better ass than you." He laughed, more genuinely than he did before, meaning it sounded like a hyena. He stumbled down the steps, nearly falling the fuck over, and slumped to the ground next to Brooke. He lay back, staring up at the sky. "Never seen so many fuckin' stars. Bet it's 'cause all the cities are fucking dead."


    He rested one leg over the other, staring up, and then said, "Alright. Gimme a truth." He glanced over to her. Her truth was kinda funny. He'd probably do that. His mom would be furious with him if she found out he'd had to. "Make it... bad. Make it real bad. I've already... already overshared so much already." He laughed again. Lying down was freaky. He could feel the ground rocking, almost. He was getting kinda sleepy.

    brooke yawned and stretched "hmm okay then, whats the worst thing youve ever done?" she sat and thought about her own sins, there were so many shed done.

    "after this we should head to bed, and you should drink some water" she popped the cap back onto the bottle and rolled it to the side "weve probably had enough" she laughed at the words that slurred from her mouth and waited for him to reply.

    Asher let his eyes fall close, leaning back. He was kinda falling asleep, feeling his head spin, feeling a little bit out of body. He sighed a little bit when Brooke mentioned it. Man, he couldn't make this a funny story. He could only really think of one thing. He placed his hands behind his head, looking up at the stars through his eyelashes. He started talking, sounding less amused than before. "...prob'ly what I did to my mom." He wanted a cigarette again. Being drunk really made the cravings worse. "She always did a lotta things for me. Like, tried t'get me to the best schools, helped me with homework, but..." He sighed heavily. "I'm an ungrateful ass, so... I skipped class a lot, came t'school drunk once, got in a fist fight with this kid 'cause..." He laughed a little. "'Cause she told me I'd never be loved 'cause I was an ugly punk girl, so I was like... at least I'm not a fake bitch like you... and then we got in a fight... and I got expelled 'cause her daddy was rich..." He felt guilty just thinking about it. "Mom paid a lot for that school, I found out... fuckin'... she wanted me to do good, better than she did, and I went 'n... fucked it up." He felt a little teary, actually, which was stupid. "I miss her," he muttered.


    He sat up quickly, too quickly, and nearly blacked out. "Let's go back inside," he said, and struggled to his feet, having to grab onto the railing. He felt sick. And really emotional now. What was he doing? Getting drunk? Smoking? Pretending like he was older than he was, like he was at all prepared for this? He missed his parents. He missed having a net to catch him. Without either of them, he was just going to downward spiral until he hit the ground. Like an airplane with one wing. Oh, shit, he felt really sick. He leaned heavily on the railing, trying not to vomit until the nausea washed over him. It took a little effort, but he made his way up the steps, into the door. Water. "I think... I think I'm just gonna... sleep." He was tired. So tired. And he felt exhausted, feelings-wise. Jeremy was on the couch. He flopped into an arm chair because he didn't want him to wake up alone, and because he didn't feel like making his way to his bed. "I think I'm gonna sleep."

    brooke felt kinda bad about her question, "i miss my mom too.." she muttered, but she forced the thoughts back "alright yea good idea, ill see you in the morning, good night!" she called to the younger boy as he found himself a spot to pass out.

    but instead of following him she decided to stay outside longer. she relived all her old memories sitting out there before she quickly realized the cold that spread across her body.

    grabbing the bottle she made her way into the house and stumbled as quiet as she could so that she wouldnt wake anyone up.

    she found her way to the hallway outside of where the strangers slept and slipped into the bathroom next door. she filled the tub as if she were going to take a bath but decided shed drink more, the alcohol was wearing off and she wanted to not feel it, so she chugged more down before blacking out on the floor grasping the bottle.




    the next morning she awoke laying on the bathroom floor, the floor was covered in water and vomit and she guessed she tried washing herself off while drunk, but she didnt have the energy to more, instead she just pulled the door open so if someone had to use the rest room they could, but she didnt care to move, instead she just passed back out on the floor, letting the sunlight stream in.

    Asher slowly found himself falling asleep, despite his nausea, despite the fact that he still felt sad. He watched Jeremy, hoping it wasn't hurting too bad. He'd probably wake up whenever Jeremy did. He hoped so. He felt his eyes shut, slowly, and he fell asleep curled up in the armchair, wishing for a blanket.


    ---


    Olive had had difficulty getting to sleep, unhappy with the arrangements. She had brought a change of clothes or two, but not a blanket, and the bedsheets on the free bed she could fine were itchy. She tried lying on top of the mattress, but felt exposed. She had had to search the house for a blanket, and had managed to find one, softer than the sheets on the bed. So, at least she managed to sleep for some hours. She was rather accustomed to sleep deprivation anyway. She got up from bed to the light in the window, rather early in the day, and realized she had to use the bathroom. She stretched, smoothing out her sweater vest over button down combo, now rumpled from being slept in. She would have to change.


    She got to her feet, blinking at the light flooding in from the window, and made her way down the hallway. Some doors were closed, but she found one was open a crack. Perhaps that was the bathroom. She reached it, opened it, and found Brooke on the floor. It was rather gross. But, at this point, she'd seen grosser. It was just the smell. She pulled her shirt over her nose, and turned the water off. She nudged the girl on the floor with her foot. What was her name again? Right. "Brooke," she said. "Get up. You're a mess."

    brooke as startled awake at the sound of anothers voice

    groaning she looked up to olive and realized where she was "sorry" she yawned as she stood up and stretched, as she did her shirt raised up a bit exposing her lower tummy and scar to the dr. quickly she stumbled out of the room, still drunk from the night before.

    as she exited the room she tumbled down and dropped the bottle that was still grasped in her hand. "man i really gotta stop blacking out" she groaned as she reached for the bottle that rolled to the side.

    picking it up she pulled it open and took a gulp, gagging as it fought its way back up and she quickly ran to the kitchen to puke in the sink.

    she wiped her mouth ofd and took another sip before setting it down on the counter and sinking down into a chair.

    her hair was a mess and she decided she needed to take a shower.

    stumbling back to the bathroom she sat outside the door waiting for olive to leave the room.

    she pulled her shirt off her body, hating the feeling a wet shirt made when it clung to you.

    still drunk she sat there, in her bra covered in vomit and vodka, not knowing what to even do

    Olive watched her go, eyes narrowed. Alright. Here was this mess on the floor. She knew it wasn't her job to clean it up, but it bothered her, so she took a towel, wiping down the floor, and dumped the towel in a hamper she found in the closet. Disgusting. She hated the smell. She did her business, splashed her face with water, and considered when she was going to get changed. Soon. She glanced at the floor. Who even ran this house? They all seemed young. She would just let it be known that the floor should be cleaned. She sighed.


    When she exited the bathroom, she immediately encountered Brooke with her shirt off, which made her blush a little bit but she had to have herself together. She'd seen naked dead people before. But this was a living person. Which made it weird. She noticed the scar, and connected the dots-- c-section on a young adult, a young child running around the house, same hair color, kind of a mess-- possibly a teen pregnancy. "How old is your kid, by the way?" she asked, slightly monotone. It would be important to get the kid checked out for certain things if she was old enough. Her mother, too. She glanced at the scar again as she spoke.

    brookes eyes trailed to her stomach then to the dr. "oh claire?" she was confused but put the connection together "shes 7 i think?" she pulled herself to her feet and leaned on the wall "shes not mine, we found her when this started" she hiccuped and began to pull her shoes off her feet shakily "my sons 2.. wouldve been 2" she kept her gaze focused to the ground, ignoring how her blood froze when she spoke of her son to the stranger. quickly before questions were asked she lied. "he died from his seizures" she decided to not mention the abusive pos father.

    "i guess a zombie Apocalypse isnt the worst thing to" she hiccuped before continuing "happen to me"

    still without taking her eyes off her body she pulled her pants off and slid forward, accidentally brushing her exposed arm against olives skin.

    "there should be food in the kitchen, if your hungry" she said, trying to keep things as simple as possible.

    "ill be out of the shower in a bit, if no one elses awake just try not being too loud" she paused, her mind still fuzzy from the alcohol and she thought about making an inappropriate joke "unless you want to join me" she chuckled as she couldnt stop herself, figuring she probably offended the stranger like she had every other time shed used the same joke on people before

    "Oh," replied Olive, not sure how to respond to that. She was really bad with emotions. She barely understood her own, much less anyone else's. Sadness... sadness over a death of a child... she was often accused, at the hospital, of being too cold, too callous, but she didn't know how to be anything else. "Seven? I'll have to check on her. She seems rather small. I'm not a pediatrician, though." She shrugged, noticing, a little bit too eagerly, when Brooke brushed against her. She glanced at the pants that were on the floor now. Then, Brooke's last comment reached her, and she looked up, confused. "Why would I want to join you? Do you... do you need help in the shower, or..." She felt like this was a point at which she was missing something. One of those times the kids would tease her at school. Her face flushed slightly. She should get over that by now, really. Brooke wasn't being serious, right? It seemed like an odd thing to ask someone she'd just met. Though it was odd in whatever contexts Olive tried to put it in, so that wasn't helpful.

    brooke looked at her with a confused look on her face, she couldve made tons of jokes but theyd probably fly over this girls head

    "err nevermind" she chuckled and stepped into the bathroom, her arm twisting around her back to unclip her bra as she stepped forward.

    the bra slid to the ground and she turned the shower on, she didnt care to close the door, as everyone was asleep and if this lady didnt want to see this she could walk away, but brooke didnt mind the company. she slid off her boy shorts underwear and stepped into the stream of water, her back to the door.

    She quickly washed the vomit from her long hair and cleaned herself off, letting the water soak her skin. it felt nice, and wasnt something theyd get to do very often in this world.

    she stood there with her hands on her face looking up to the water letting it soak every inch of her pale skin.

    she thought of their hands touching her body and ripping her apart and she slid her hand down making sure there were no scratches. as usual there wasnt anything besides the scar on her stomach, the scars from her childhood. but no scratched.

    but still when she closed her eyes she thought of her waking as one harming her friends.

    but the dr- olive. but olive tested her blood, she was fine. she wouldnt harm then, atleast not intentionally.

    she ignored the thoughts as the water continued to pour over her.

    Olive sighed, rolling her eyes as Brooke stepped into the bathroom, and went back into the kitchen. On the couch was her patient, on the chair, the kid, Blaze-- no, Asher. She noted the two were both asleep, though, so she kept herself quiet as she made her way into the kitchen. She checked the fridge, and found mostly expired things, except for some condiments. She found some eggs, but she hated the texture of eggs, so she skipped over them. She found some greens and such. Okay, better. She grabbed them and started to sautee them, with some butter and such.


    Olive had taught herself to cook and much preferred it as she had specific tastes, which were easier to have when you controlled what went in the pot. Her mother called her finicky. She added some garlic to her mixture, which made it smell very nice, and considered. Did she have aspirin? She was sure that Brooke had a splitting headache. She was sure she had tylonel, but that wasn't good for hangovers. It was metabolized in the liver, which meant that it wasn't particularly good for hangovers. She checked her bag as her food was cooking, and found it. Good. She poured a glass of water and placed it and the medication somewhere where Brooke would spot it, and then went back to cooking. As the resident doctor, she felt she had to care for the people here. But for some reason, she cared for Brooke in particular. She wasn't sure why.

    when brooke finally was done she turned the water off and pulled a baggy tshirt over her body and pulled up a pair of sweats.

    She smelled food and figured that there were people in there.

    Making her way out there groggily she spotted the water and pills and picked them up taking them quickly, after shed done so she pulled the bottle if painkillers from her pocket and swallowed a handful.

    "Whatever your making smells good" she commented to olive, watching her figure work around the kitchen.

    She yawned as the pills started to kick in and she felt her usual shitty self

    "How long havw you been a doctor?" She felt like breaking the silence with small talk was better then her own thoughts that often drifted to far.

    Plus the girl fascinated brooke, something about her made her want to engage in conversation with her. Normally she wanted nothing but quietness, but she craved to hear the sound of the drs voice directed at her.

    Brooke normally hated talking to people, she liked being alone. Normally when people came around shed shy away, but olive just had a way on brooke.

    She sat and waited for a reply, curious at what she would say

    Olive appreciated the sizzling noise the oil made as it cooked, and watched out of the corner of her eye as Brooke left the bathroom. She nodded to herself approvingly as she took the medicine. Good. That would help the headache. Olive wasn't a total square, she was aware the effects of getting drunk. She just didn't do it until after she turned 21, like a reasonable person who appreciated their brain cells. Speaking of which. She saw Brooke take out the painkillers, and immediately abandoned her food, snatched it out of her hands like someone who'd done that many times before, and put the painkillers in her pocket.


    "Do you think I'm stupid?" she asked, turning back to her food. "I'm technically not a real doctor yet. But I've been studying since I was 17. So... 5 years." She added a dash of sriracha, which it seemed none of her colleagues knew how to enjoy in moderation, and put the food on two plates. "I've seen plenty of drug addicts, though. They make it much harder to give painkillers for our real patients. Especially if we only have a limited supply of it." She took her own food, and sat down at the counter. She was clearly pissed off, staring off towards the window. She'd had bad experiences with people like Brooke that she didn't wish to repeat.

    brooke huffed but didnt protest to the dr taking the painkiller away.

    he decided shed rather not argue tho and got up to get a plate for herself.

    slouching into the seat she ate the food quietly, not knowing what to say to the girl.

    there was a long awkward silence for a few moments before brooke thought of a question.

    "so is hensan going to be okay?" she looked over to the living room where the sleeping figure lay still, ashers form next to him on the chair.

    "er... so do you have any idea on how this whole thing started? if your medical smart maybe youd have an idea??" brooke was always curious over the truth of the outbreak, for all she knew the doctor actually did know something.

    "i have an idea of it, but its been a weird time for awhile, life doesnt feel real, its just kinda passing by in front of my eyes, i wonder if there is anything left to this world? maybe there is somewhere else where these creatures dont exist?" she sighed and took another bite of the food.

    "maybe theres something better out there for us" she trailed off as she thought of a world where they wernt always in trouble. a world like that would be the best thing there was at this point.


    //yOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED


    When Jeremy woke up, he was greeted by the scent of vomit and alcohol. Wrinkling his nose, he lifted his arm immedietely to cover his nose, groaning out a soft "dad your not s'posed to drink..." before a sudden spark of pain in his stomach refreshed his memory. Right. His dad couldn't get into trouble for drinking if he wasn't alive. Get out of jail free card.

    Haha.

    Jesus everything hurt.


    Craning his neck back, he looked around at the room. He heard voices nearby, bathroom maybe? He recalled a bit of the previous night, when a new person had arrived and re-stitched his wounds. He looked at his chest, wrapped in copper-stained gauze. He still felt dizzy and clammy, but it wasn't as bad anymore. No fever. So then he wasn't going to turn?

    He glanced sideways at the sound of a light snore, spotting Asher nearby looking quite uncomfortable in an armchair. Jeremy immediately thought back to a time when he was young, how he'd wail at night because of growing pains or ear infections or whatever it was children got, and how his father would tell him stories until he forgot about the pain. How he'd wake up to find his dad snoring at the foot of his bed, diligent in his care.


    Pushing off the couch, he waited a bit for feeling to return to his tingling legs, before rising to his feet. Another pause, riding out a wave of pain and vertigo, before he took shuffling steps to Asher's side. He smelled of alcohol. Jeremy doubted it was because he had assisted with cleaning Jeremy's wounds.

    "Dumbass," Jeremy muttered sternly, lifting his hand to pat the other boy's cheek and wake him up. Instead, though - as if his hand had a mind of it's own, it pressed softly instead on Asher's forehead. Who knew if the sickness Jeremy had had spread? But even as he was made certain Asher didn't have a fever, his hand remained there, upon Asher's soft, warm skin.

    He thought about last night, how adamant he had been to protect Jeremy's life.

    About the night at the shed, when he pulled Jeremy out of the worst episode of his life.

    He brushed away Asher's hair, marveling at the peacefulness of the sleeping boy's face.


    wait.


    Was...



    Was this a creepy thing to do?



    Jeremy hesitated, then pulled his hand away, suddenly feeling his face burning up. Shit was another fever starting up?



    (c)trexgirl

    brooke turned when she heard the stiring noises of the sleeping lump getting up.

    She watched jeremy touch ashers face and felt a pange of something in her stomach. Jealousy maybe? But they were cute together and she knew thst asher had feelings for jeremy and she had no right to feel those thoughts.

    She turned back to olive but said nothing, she just continued eating the rest of the food on the plate.

    She stood up to put her dishes away butshe paused when she got to the sink, covering hermouth before vomiting into the sink, breaking the silence with the sounds of sickness.

    She shuddered as the waves of sickness crashed over her and she slumped back into the chair across from olive, shivering off the waves as they came on.

    She chose not to say anything and laid her head onto the table, exoecting jeremy to say a remark to her

    Asher woke up to the sounds of vomiting, which was just never a pleasant way to wake up, especially when you had a pounding-ass headache and your mouth felt like the Sahara desert. He started to move, to maybe get to his bed and lie facedown in it and sleep for another 5 hours, until he realized someone was right there, and had their hand on him. Had his hand on him. Jeremy. He realized he'd probably ruined it when he opened his eyes, and when his face slowly broke out into a grin. "Hey," he muttered, weakly. "You're alive."


    He felt a little bit like, cheesy about Jeremy for a second. He was getting this whole butterflies-in-stomach feeling, looking up at him. Then he realized that wasn't some romance novel bullshit, he was about to fucking puke. He got up, with a wave of dizziness, and patted Jeremy's shoulder, moving him out of the way. "Excuse me... for just a minute..." He made a mad dash towards the bathroom because he didn't feel like getting humiliated by whoever was in the kitchen and soon enough he was knelt in front of the throne, removing whatever the hell his last meal was from his body. He stood, turned on the sink, splashed water on his face. Oh my god he hated 8 hours ago Asher why would he do this to himself.

    brooke chuckled when asher dashed by to go vomit.

    She wasnt the only one and thst akways made her feel better about her actions.

    She was feeling better after getting rid of the toxins in her body and taking the medicine, so she decided to stand up and stretch before walking to the porch, looking to see if there were any cigs left from the previous night.

    To her suprise there was a full cigarette only missing a hit or two before put out, and a lighter, laying on the bench.

    She grabbed it and flicked the lighter, but it was out.

    She had an idea and walked inside wuth the cig in her mouth, leaning overthe stove she turned it on amd lit her cigarette.

    Puffing it out she walked back to the door, ignoring the others in the house. She was exhausted and wanted to smoke before figuring out what the day would hold.

    Olive took another small bite of her food, still bitter, and not up for entertaining ridiculous ideas like thinking about a future where everything was all nice and dandy, or whatever. She preferred to think about what is most likely to happen next, and how to deal with it, how to survive it. She grumbled something about how Hansen'd be fine, though of course she couldn't assure that with 100% confidence because who knew, he could be hit by a falling piano and die.


    When Brooke threw up, again, she sighed to herself. "Look what you've done to the food I made you." She took another bite of her own meal, considering getting more medicine for her, or something, but she was surprisingly nonchalant about it. She looked up as the kid also dashed to the bathroom. "Got the kid into it too? For shame," she said, sarcastically. However, she stood up, and noticed that Jeremy was awake. Good. He was able to stand up. "I suppose I'll make more food, since I am the oldest here and apparently a housewife." She was clearly not happy about that position, but she went to it anyway. She supposed Jeremy might mind her stealing from his cabinets, but she saved his entire life, so she figured this was payment. She noticed Brooke smoking outside, and wondered if she was okay.