Chapter Text
Pete Spankoffski was on his third nature documentary by the time he’d realised how much time had actually passed. He had decided, that after everything that he had had to endure on his birthday followed by him being separated from his family for two weeks to make sure he didn’t have whatever pathogen turned everyone into zombies, that he was pursuing biology. In better words, he was attempting to pursue biology. That started, apparently, with watching nature documentaries on birds in the Sahara Desert.
He'd expected to be bored out of his mind. He had been whenever they discussed biology in class. This was different. This was interesting. Seeing how birds were able to survive in hot climates compared to their cold-living counterparts. He struggled when it got slightly humid, he wouldn’t be able to survive a hot climate without water. Even with water he believed he’d shrivel up and die. For once, he had never been more thankful to live in a place like Hatchetfield. Well, Clivesdale now, but still technically Hatchetfield. At least he wasn’t a bird in the hottest climate on earth. At least he wasn’t a bird. To be fair, though, he could be a penguin. Penguins lived in the snow and were one of the most badass creatures to roam the earth. Penguins lived on beaches made of snow or sand. They were incredible.
That thought alone had Peter looking down to his lap. The chick he had pulled from the blind box was sitting on one knee while Steph’s penguin sat on the other. If trying to distract himself from the fact Jenny and Steph had been gone for too long was his plan, then he had failed at it. Just looking at Steph’s miniature penguin had his heart doing flips. She wasn’t there, and that wasn’t fair on him. She should be back by now. Both she and Jenny should be back. Surely, they hadn’t ran off on them, right? Not after everything that they’d been through, Steph wouldn’t get up and leave like that. She couldn’t. Not after Pete was starting to settle down with the fact he might have a friend…she couldn’t do that to him.
He began to spiral. Delusions became prominent in his mind as he began imagining the worst scenarios possible based on their mysterious disappearance. The most obvious would be that they’d gotten into a car crash and they had died. That would be plausible. He had no idea how safe Clivesdale’s streets were so he was only assuming, out of all the options his mind was carelessly throwing at him, that would be the one with the most potential. The second was that they’d been murdered, which seemed like something that would only happen to him, or would only happen in Hatchetfield. The third, as stated, was that they’d gotten up and left both he and Ted to suffer in the shittiest town in the entire world. Fucking Clivesdale. Fuck them straight to hell. He said that, but then again, he could be dying in Clivesdale.
Thank fuck he wasn’t dying in Clivesdale.
He checked the time on his phone. The documentary still running in the background, Pete decided that the most he could do was make himself lunch. He wasn’t going to disturb Ted, Jenny had told him not to, so he would stick by her rules. He wanted Ted to get better, he really did. He’d seen those bruises, and he’d seen that cut and he had immediately assumed the worst. But, Jenny had said that Ted was asleep and resting to get his leg back to normal. To heal. Because Ted Spankoffski was healing.
He had to be healing.
In Jenny’s teal-covered kitchen, Peter eventually found ingredients that he could at least tolerate. He didn’t want to make himself a sandwich. He fucking hated sandwiches. There was very little choice he had though. Jenny was offering them hospitality, the least he could do was complain about what food she had in the house, a house they were merely squatting in until they were getting out of Clivesdale. Out of Clivesdale, then what? Out of Michigan? Fuck yeah. He’d go as far to say they were getting out of America, but the only place Pete would even consider going that was outside of the states was either Canada or Australia. He assumed Ted wasn’t fond of that idea, so he let the imaginary guns in his mind shoot it down until it was dead.
Peter sat himself back down on the couch with the chicken sandwich he’d made that rested on a paper plate. He had no idea where the actual plates were. Even if he did, he wasn’t going to risk waking his brother up because of the noise he was making. So, he settled for a paper plate. A paper plate and a blue glass. Man, he was really beginning to think Jenny liked the colour blue. To his right was a chocolate bar he had plucked from his pocket. He made sure it was one of the ones he’d bought and not one of Steph’s. He didn’t want to steal her stuff. Then he’d be the asshole, and he really couldn’t be dealing with that. Resting to his side was the phone number Jenny had left. It was on a yellow post it note, but the ink was in blue.
What was it with this mysterious woman and the colour blue? Her car was blue, her kitchen was basically blue, half of her furniture was blue…what the fuck kind of person chose the most dismal colour to be their favourite anyway? He didn’t want to live in a blue house. He could only thank whatever higher power existed that the bedroom he and Steph shared was primarily grey. It was better to live boringly then try to add in unnecessary colour.
Before Pete tucked into his sandwich, he decided to calm his anxiety by shooting Jenny a call. It rang thrice before she picked up. So they were alive. That’s good…idiot, fool, fucking idiot for thinking they’d died. Even as his thoughts began to turn on him, belittle him with his own nonsensical pains, it didn’t exactly calm his anxieties. Jenny wasn’t on the other end of the line. Steph was.
“Hey, I’m assuming this is Peter?”
“Uh, yeah…you’ve been gone a few hours and I wanted to make sure everything was okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. We’re on our way back. Jenny’s just not feeling too great. I think that migraine got the best of her, to be honest. She looked real pale when we were in the store.”
“Oh…”
“But we’ll be back soon. See you then?”
“I’ll see you then…”
Just like that, the call was over and Peter was left alone with his sandwich, the tiny stuffed animals and the animal documentary.
The next episode had loaded up in the short time that Pete had gone to practise self-care. This episode seemed to be a little bit more up Pete’s alley. It was no longer about birds and their evolution tactics. It was about the virtues of the animal kingdom, the deadly diseases.
Admit it. Nobody studied biology for the boring shit. Everyone wanted to study biology for the cool stuff, like the weird illnesses like the plague. Everyone wanted to indulge in the dismal and dark areas of science that many people would shy from. As teenagers, it was almost like a strike of uncensored rebellion. Parents shadowed the kids from anything that could harm them, then they went to school, and they were learning about everything grim. With no parents alive to shield him from anything, and his only guardian currently asleep, Peter took a bite of that sandwich and began to engage in the episode.
It probably wasn’t the best idea to watch an episode on death, but that was where Pete currently stood. He was starving, he needed to watch his blood sugar and he couldn’t wait any longer for Jenny and Steph to get back. So, he watched the episode on death, destruction and illness within the animal kingdom. It’s all he could do, as a source of entertainment. One thing was curtained. He was entertained. Learning about science, as it turned out, remained his favourite hobby no matter what sector it was.
If Peter hadn’t been hooked before, he certainly was now.
The programme had shifted to focus on minibeasts, specifically ants, and how they were the unfortunate sufferers of a zombie virus. That was something Pete could relate to. Well, he couldn’t, but he’d lived through what could have been an apocalypse had it not been contained and killed as fast as it had. Thanks to him, he’d stopped the apocalypse. Fuck yeah. He did that. He was so cool. He smiled into his sandwich as he listened into the information being provided. The infection in question was actually a fungus called Cordyceps. What happened was that once infected, the body of the ant would be drained of all nutrients, then manipulating the ant’s mind to leave the safety of its home and ascend to an area where the fungus would be able to grow. Once the ant had climbed high enough, clamping on to a leaf to celebrate the end of its life, the spores would exit through its head as stalks and bulbs. Then, when the ant climbed back down, it left a trail of spores that infected other ants, which would then kill entire colonies.
“What a way to go…” Peter said as he took another bite of his sandwich. “Head blowing up because of a fungus…damn. I would hate to be an ant right now.” At that moment, the door to Ted’s bedroom opened and he staggered out. He looked at the end of the hallway to Pete, a mildly flustered look in his eyes. “…morning?”
Ted took a second to collect himself. “Where’s Jenny gone?”
“Uh, she went out a few hours ago. She said she had a migraine and Steph says she’s not doing too well but they’re on their way back. Do you want any food? I just made a sandwich and-“
“No, I don’t want food. I just want water. That nap knocked me the fuck out.” He said, heading through to the kitchen.
Pete tried not to think too much about the encounter. Tried not to think about how Ted was dragging his leg instead of using crutches to get around. Tried to ignore that bewildered look Ted’s eyes had taken on. Tried to ignore it all by tuning everything out and focusing back on the documentary. Ants. Right. They had been talking about ants. They weren’t now, that segment was done and concluded. They were talking about killing queen bees, now. Pete already knew about that. The workers would make a ball around the queen to suffocate her, while in the process biting and stinging her. Still, it was better than allowing his thoughts to get the better of him, though, so Peter Spankoffski continued on with his life.
Soon enough, Pete had finished up with his sandwich so he stood. He’d return to eat the chocolate bar in just a second. It’d be like dessert. It’d all be worth it in the end. He headed through to the kitchen where Ted still stood. He blinked. He’d never seen Ted willingly drink water before, and certainly not at that speed.
Every time he finished a glass, he’d fill it up. He was chugging glass after glass after glass with no sign of stopping. Something insanely weird was going on, but then again, this was Ted. Ted wasn’t the most normal person around. He did weird things, like drink water continuously despite claiming to hate it.
Pete cleared his throat. “Uh, I kinda need to get past. Need to throw this in the trash-“
“Yeah, go ahead, buddy.” He said, hopping awkwardly to the side. “Uh, do you know if Jenny’s gone out for any painkillers?”
“All she said was that she was going to get the medicine your doctors prescribed you for your leg. I don’t know what that entails.”
“Damn, okay…do you know if she’s got any in the house right now?”
“I literally didn’t know what food she had, so if I didn’t know that, why would I know what meds she has?” He tossed the paper plate in the bin, looking up at him. “I can look, though?”
“Yeah, that’d be good.”
Pete turned his attention to the several cupboards that rested in the kitchen. He opened each one, filing through every single one before he found a box of painkillers he knew Ted often took when hungover. He stood on his tiptoes, reaching out. Once secured, he shut the cupboard, passing them over to Ted. “Uh, are you okay?”
“I’ve got a bastard migraine. Top tip, bud. Don’t sleep in longer than necessary because if you do, you’ll wake up with a god-awful post nap headache.”
“They exist?”
“Of course they exist. Why wouldn’t they exist?”
“I-I don’t know…” He looked at his brother, watching as he popped two pills in his mouth, swallowing them with the accompaniment of more water. “…they’re new bruises.”
“Which ones? The ones on my shoulder? They’re the same ones as yesterday. I still don’t know what the fuck’s been going on with them, but Jenny said-“
“I meant…” He gestured to his neck.
Ted placed his hand in the same area. When he pulled it away, he looked down, half expecting to see blood. None. Good. He shrugged, chugging another half of a glass before his eyes widened. “…I do know about those bruises.”
“If I am not mistaken, Theodore, those appear to be hickeys.”
“Ah, shit, you whipped the government name out on me. Fuck you, Peter.”
“Yeah, uh, no thanks…” He shifted. “…can’t believe you hooked up with Jenny. Jeez, Ted. That’s…she’s practically saving our lives, here.”
“Yeah! So, I repaid her the only way I knew how! With my body!”
Pete winced. “I didn’t need to hear that-“
“Trust me, when you toss your V Card to the wind, you will fully understand why sex is so amazing. You will understand why us Spankoffskis are the way we are.”
“I’ve literally only been 16 for a few weeks, can we not do this right now-“
“Nuh uh, Petey.” Ted clasped a hand on Pete’s shoulder. “Because sex with a woman is the best thing that can happen to a man. Sex with a man is only good if you enjoy feeling like you’re getting an entire rolling pin shoved up your ass. A very spiky rolling pin.”
“Ted, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”
He gestured to his head. “Migraine, I can’t think properly.” He turned around, filling his glass up again. “But seriously. Everything between me and Jenny is good now. We talked it out while you and Steph were out.”
“Talked it out, as in, had sex to figure things out or…?”
“No, we talked things out, and then she got on top of me and fucked my brains out of my skull!”
“Ted!”
“Twice!”
“I really didn’t need to know that-“
“Oh no, Petey. She could be your sister-in-law. She’s fucking magical. She’s the best thing to happen to me…bless Jenny Wilkinson.”
“Okay well uh, please don’t strain using your leg too much if it’s hurting and-“
“It don’t hurt.”
“Then why are you limping?”
Ted paused, blinking as the water in his cup began to spill over. “I’m limping?”
“…yes, Ted, you’re limping.”
“No I’m not, stop playing.”
“You are, though.”
“I think I’d know if I’m limping.” He slowly turned back around, turning the tap off.
“Then walk. Prove to me you’re not limping.”
Ted’s eyes ran up and down Pete before he sighed. He set the glass on the side, taking a few steps before it began to settle in. “…damn. How did I not realise that I was limping? What the fuck?”
“Do you need to sit down?”
“No, I need Jenny back with those meds so my leg can stop feeling weird. And also so she can put more of that sweet, sweet remedy on my bruises.” He pointed at Peter. “You ain’t experienced ecstasy until you’ve had a girl run her hands on your body-“
“Okay, I’m gonna go finish watching this documentary, then.”
“Nerd.” Ted snorted, watching as Pete began leaving. “Oh! By the way, you didn’t happen to have music in that documentary, right?”
“…yeah.”
“Ah. Good. I’m not going insane.”
“I think you need to go back to sleep.”
“I think I need Jenny to hurry her ass up.”
Pete shook his head, heading back to the living room. His eyes weren’t immediately drawn to the TV. No. They were drawn to the window that overlooked the front of the street. More importantly, they were drawn to what was outside of it.
A man stood there, leaning against the fence of one of the other homes opposite. He had long, blonde hair that was braided. Peter knew this because the braid was placed over his left shoulder. Even in a braid, it reached his kneecaps at most so if it was that long while up, how long was it down? Was this the real-life Rapunzel?! Well, he didn’t know who it was, so potentially, he could be Rapunzel. The man was pale. His cheekbones were hollow, and his jaw could cut glass, he was sure of that. He was wearing a turtleneck, yellow in colour, that was tucked into black jeans, which were tucked into black boots. Over the top, he wore a black trench coat. One hand was deep in one of the pockets. The other, trapped by a fingerless, black glove, was flicking a golden lighter. The one thing in this scenario was to not make eye contact, yet that was what Peter found he was doing when the man looked up.
The man’s eyes were the sharpest yellow he had ever seen. Unhuman…or potentially a cosplayer.
Either way, Pete shrugged it off, sitting back down on the couch, eyes drawn back to the TV. They’d moved on to Lyme disease now, for some bizarre reason. It wasn’t something Pete was particularly interested in, so he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his phone for the sake of muscle memory.
That was, until, he heard his brother begin retching in the kitchen.
Pete looked up, setting his phone aside. “Ted…are you okay?” He asked again. He received no answer, the retching too loud for anyone to hear over. “…Ted?! Ted, come on, I get having a migraine is bad but that sounds real serious and-.“ Ted gave a particularly harsh cough, so Pete stood up. “Ted!”
There was silence before Ted spoke. “…Pete…don’t come in here, okay?”
“Why! I’m worried about you!”
“Pete, I’m literally begging you, don’t come back in here. Uh…J-Jenny must have PEIP’s phone number around here something, or-“
“Why would we need PEIP?! You’re freaking me out!”
Ted took a breath, which Pete could hear because his breathing was louder than usual. “…you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Of course, I know you’d never hurt me, but why’s that relevant? You sound sick and I’m scared-“
“Get out the house.”
“…huh?!”
“If you trust me, you get out the house and you wait until Jenny’s back, okay?”
“No! Ted, we just started settling down! I wanna know what’s going on! Why are we going again? Why can’t you come with me anymore?! Why has it gotta be me-“
Ted flinched. “Because…because I’ve got it too.”
“…got what?”
“The Apotheosis, Bitch!”
Pete’s heart actually stopped that time. All colour drained from his face. Three words. Three words that had not been spoken but had been sung. No. No, this was not happening. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. PEIP said they’d destroyed the infection. Every single living member that had been infected had been blown up. Pete knew because he had been there. He had been the person to throw that grenade, he had watched as everyone shrivelled up. He would never forget the high pitched shrivel that emitted from the corpses as the infection left its hosts. By that logic, Ted should already be dead if he was infected…he should already have died…
Lip quivering, he walked to the door of the kitchen, where he saw Ted hunched over the sink. He wasn’t able to support himself properly because of his leg, and it hurt Pete to watch everything happen in real time. Ted had finally found happiness, why did this have to happen now? He couldn’t prevent the tears that flooded as Ted started another coughing fit. This time, Pete saw the reality of it. Blue sludge forced itself from Ted’s throat, landing directly into the sink. Pete recoiled, beginning to really shake. No, it couldn’t be happening.
IT COULDN’T BE HAPPENING-
Ted wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, turning his head to face Pete. His hand returned to gripping the sink, a blue residue left behind on his skin. He’d be gripping the sink with both hands had it not been for the obvious. Where that untreated cut had been, it seemed to open a seam, like a zipper. Ted Spankoffski’s arm now hung, dislocated, popped from its socket. It was useless now. Not that it mattered.
“Petey, please go.”
He shook his head. Was he not leaving or was it an instinctive reaction because he was in disbelief? He had no idea.
“I’m not gonna let myself hurt you. You need to go.”
“I don’t wanna-“
“You don’t gotta choice, buddy.”
“I don’t wanna go-“
Ted gripped the sink tighter, a ripple of pain shuddering through him. “Fucking hell, Peter! I’m trying to save your life here! Okay, I know this is difficult for you but if you stay, I will kill you.”
“No you won’t-“
“No. You’re right. I won’t, but whatever alien puts itself in my mind will. To the aliens, you’re not my brother, you’re just another body they want to obtain to add to their hive. So go. Wait for Jenny. Okay? We’ll ring PEIP, they’ll be able to fix this.”
“And if they can’t?”
“…then it’s been a fucking pleasure being your brother.”
A tear fell down Pete’s face then. “I love you, Teddy.”
Ted’s eyes filled with tears then as well. Quietly, forcibly, he told him, “I love you too.”
He began coughing again. Pete wasn’t around that time to watch. Instead, he grabbed his phone, abandoned the documentary and stood outside the front door, keeping it on the catch in case he needed to get back in. In case he could save his brother. He’d done it once, who was to say he couldn’t do it again?
He rang Jenny. As soon as the phone began ringing on his end, though, the call was picked up. He took a breath. “H-hey, uh, is this Jenny or is this Steph?”
“Steph.”
“Uh, something’s going on with Ted so uh, we needa ring PEIP.”
“I’ll let Jenny know. We’re just around the corner, Peter. Take a look.”
So he did. He hung up the phone. The man with the braid was still stood there, except this time he was no longer holding a lighter but a box that appeared to be spray painted gold. He twisted it right as both Jenny and Steph turned the corner. Car abandoned, the two approached him, both with an extra skip in their step. Pete assumed it was because the two had had a nice journey out. How fucking wrong he was.
Because Steph’s eyes were blue.
He may not be the best at biology, but he knew that it was incredibly rare for blue eyes to be found within people of black heritage. Steph’s father had been black, her mother had been Latina. He’d gazed into those brown eyes enough to know what colour her eyes were, and they were, by no means, blue. They were now, though. And as she got closer, he could see the trickle of a blue nosebleed that dripped on to her mouth, dripping on to her clothes. Yet, she grinned.
“I told you I’d let Jenny know.” She said, all too whimsically for it to not be his worst nightmare, with a gentle smile prominent.
He backed away, hitting the white picket fence behind him. “No…no, not you too…Please tell me this is all a nightmare…”
“Tell that to your bastard brother.” Jenny said, though there was no smile on her face. “It was him to do this to me. The bitch can suffer.”
“Symphonise.” Steph corrected. “Not suffer. And you won’t suffer when you’re one of us, Peter. We promise. You’re wanted here.”
“No I’m not!”
“YES YOU ARE!” She roared, laughing. “SO COME HERE!”
He shook his head, tears continuing to fall as he ran back inside. He shut the door. “T-Ted?! They’re-they’re singing too, they’re not fully gone but they’re singing, and Jenny’s angry and-“
There, in the doorway, appeared the hunched over figure of his brother. He gripped the frame with his good hand, the one not attached to his dislocated shoulder. The light in the doorway was dark, so Pete failed to see the full extent of what was happening. That was, until, he lifted his head. The light from the window shone directly on his face, and Pete sobbed.
There was a blue stained grin slapped on his face, that same blue substance he’d been puking up minutes before dribbling down his mouth. His eyes were now a vicious looking blue. His eyes, like Steph’s, had also been brown. He wasn’t supposed to have blue eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be grinning like that. He wasn’t supposed to be infected at all. PEIP had told them everything was fine.
Steph pounded her fist on the window causing Pete to flinch as he turned his back. She smiled up at him, beckoning him closer. He shook his head, backing up, which was also a mistake as he bumped into Ted. He had the sense in him to pull away, to try running. But these were aliens he was dealing with. Not his friends, and not his family. He was dealing with a shadow of what his brother had once been, and that shadow had snatched him up, lifting him off the ground.
Pete cried out, sobbing, pleading for forgiveness. Ted only laughed. “You always worry about sugar, Petey. So for you, here’s something sweet!” He sang.
His hand cupped Pete’s chin, keeping him still from where he thrashed.
A singular crack sounded.
Pete Spankoffski’s lifeless body fell to the floor, his neck at an angle as Ted Spankoffski looked over the corpse of his brother. Because to the hive, this was another pathetic, worthless wannabe with no real goal or aspiration. To Ted? That had been his little brother. Not that Ted was in his mind anymore. His soul had been pushed out through leaking eyes, pushed out directly from his head. The shell of Peter Spankoffski rose, dragging himself out the front door where he briefly glanced at the man with the long braid. He turned the cube again, disappearing into thin air like ashes.
Everything was only ashes.
And in terms of sparkling among the stars, the undead body of Peter Spankoffski would create a whole solar system. Every blasted part of him would become a star. Fragments of his skin, muscle and bone would twinkle endlessly, not like anyone would be around to see it.
Peter Spankoffski may have blown up the meteor, and in so, succeeded in destroying the infection which only came back mutated, vengeful, to destroy the destroyer. He destroyed the infection , which then destroyed himself. The legacy he left behind, as a hero, was gone now that everyone was becoming one.
As the world became a chorus, that mild part of his active subconscious asked one thing and one thing only.
How worth it was this, exactly?
His life was over. His life was done. Peter Spankoffski was nothing but forgotten dust. And, as that blonde haired bastard sat in the living room of that house opposite Jenny Wilkinson’s on Hydrangea Lane, he pulled that golden box back out of his pocket. He twisted it. It opened. In gleaming specks of glitter, each soul for every member of the infected grouped together, swarming into the box.
But with nothing else left, then why stick around?
The box snapped shut. The universe erupted in a burst of gold.
With his eyes on them now, though, he hoped they’d have better preparation next time. For that was only a test run. The real adventure was about to become of them, not that they had a choice. Not that they’d ever know. So he sat back down in that darkened room, in that throne made of gold, overlooking a different form of Earth. There, he zoomed in on a new target. He locked it in, reloaded and fired.
“Bingo.” The figure smiled, setting that golden box beside him on a small, ornate table made of black glass. Satisfied was hardly the word he could use to describe how he was really feeling.
Regarding current circumstances, the timeline may have been altered, but after all, it was for the best.