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You should’ve never gotten into that stupid fight with him.
You could barely remember what it was even about, something about putting yourself in harms way too much. He wanted you to be safe and you didn’t want to be coddled. You could take care of yourself, you insisted, you didn’t need a babysitter for a boyfriend. Now, you wanted nothing more than to take all those words back.
Everything went wrong so fast. You’d stormed off, warning 10k not to follow you with a bullet to the ground just in front of him. He didn’t follow and, at that moment, you were thankful for that. The Zs hadn’t been a big deal; you’d fought alone before and you should’ve been able to do it now. In your anger, you’d severely underestimated them and one managed to nick you in the heat of the fight.
It hadn't mattered at the moment; you were so hyped up on adrenaline that you barely noticed the pain. When you went to check over yourself, however, you caught a glimpse of the teeth marks. The shock had set in and you felt truly paralyzed. Now, you were sitting on the floor of a cleared out store with a piece of your shirt wrapped around a fresh bite.
After a while, you felt angrier than anything else. After all this time, after escaping death countless times, beating the odds over and over again, this is how you go. You stand to your feet, shaking with grief and anger. Tears cloud your vision as you tear up everything within your reach; entire shelves are turned over and pretty soon you’re collapsing in a pile of your own destruction. It felt good to let some of the anger out but your mind still races with the fact that you’re bitten.
Sure, you knew it was a possibility. After all, when it comes to a zombie apocalypse that’s one of the main threats around you. But you were good. You knew how to survive. It never happened before so why now? You don’t fight to contain the sobs that wracked through your entire body. The whole ordeal left you exhausted.
Faintly, you overhear a small bit of commotion outside but it’s quickly trumped by the warring emotions in your head. Your eyes fly to the door as it’s ripped open; 10k stands there, breathing heavy. A look of relief (and hesitant concern) washes over him as he takes you in. He calls your name softly and he crouches in front you and pulls you into a hug. For just a moment, you ignore your impending end. You hold onto him and fight to keep your composure. You close your eyes, focusing on the steady beat of his heart until you feel yourself calming down.
“10k,” you say softly, pulling back to rub your thumb over his cheek, “I’m so sorry.”
It’s all you can say for a while but he remains patient, reaching up to cover your hand with his own. How are you supposed to tell him this? How are you supposed to explain that because you decided to throw a tantrum, he would lose you forever? There’s a soft, concerned look in his eyes but he doesn’t rush you. “What’s the matter?” he asks softly.
It’s all too much all at once and all you can do in response is sob twice as hard as before, pulling him into the tightest embrace you could manage. “I...I got bit,” you manage to say, “I got fucking bit, 10k. I’m so sorry. I’m so...so sorry.”
He pulls back violently, eyes panicked as they search your face. His eyes focus on your arm and he’s silent for a long while. “No...no way.”
You say his name like a prayer, reaching out to him. He jerks his shoulder back and stands, wiping at his eyes roughly. “No. No, it doesn’t get to end like this,” he says, “it’s supposed to be us. You’re not supposed to leave me.”
Again, all you can do is say his name, hoping it calms him. There’s nothing you want more than for him to be right; you wish you could just say you caught it on some glass or that you could be one of the lucky ones. You knew the truth, though. There was no happy ending. No winners in this situation.
“Out of everyone, you’re the one that was supposed to stay,” he says desperately, like this is all a dream...like he can make it all go away with words alone. “I should’ve followed you, I could’ve stopped this. This is all my fault.”
“No,” you say sternly, standing despite the effort. “You do not get to blame yourself for this. I should’ve known better. I got lazy and I’m paying for it.” He looks prepared to argue, but you stop him by wrapping your arms around his waist. He doesn’t return the embrace. Instead, his hands rest on top of his head and he fights back quiet cries.
Eventually, he relaxes into your hold. “I’m not ready to say goodbye,” he whispers and it feels like your heart is on the cusp of literally breaking.
“We still have a little time,” you say, sniffling, “I don’t want to spend my final moments worrying and crying. Hell, I wanted to spend my final moments celebrating us becoming historical figures and me leaving behind a kickass legacy but adapt or die, am I right?”
That earns you a sad smile. “I’ll make sure they build you a monument,” he says, entertaining your delusions of grandeur. You know this is just delaying the inevitable, trying to make it so, for a moment, it’s not really happening.
“A big one?”
“The biggest, I’ll make sure it’s even bigger than mine.”
You laugh, fighting the cough that threatened to break past your lips. You clear your throat and retake your seat on the ground, patting the space beside you. 10k slides down next to you and pulls you into him. “Make sure we get a national holiday,” you say, “really milk this all for it’s worth. Oh, and make sure you tell people I died protecting a bus full of children or something. Death because a Z caught me off guard is so embarrassing.”
“Nobody’s gonna buy that,” he teased, “but I’ll do my best.”
“You better. If you don’t honor my dying wish, I’ll haunt you.”
He smiles down at you, tears welling up in his eyes once more. “As if that could be a bad thing,” he says softly and places a tender kiss on your forehead. The thought that you might be able to watch over him to any extent comforts you slightly.
Both of you try and hold it together but the weight of what has to happen next weighs heavily on both of you. With a sigh, you pull the pistol from your belt. A found memory floods your mind as you run your thumb along with the grip.
When you’d first ran into 10lk, he’d been holed up in some building. He’d called out to you, asking you for help like someone might ask their neighbor for sugar with that stupid little smirk you’d come to love. You weren’t sure what made you want to save him then but you’d earned not only a loyal partner but also the love of your life.
The two of you were so quickly inseparable; you talked about losing your parents and feeling like you never really got to be a kid. You told him stories--secrets--that you’d never divulged to another living soul. You traveled together, fought together, and slept the nights away under the stars.
You’d lost your pistol one day, running from a group of Z’s and 10k took it upon himself to go back and find it. He made you promise to never lose it again and that was the day he’d made his first-ever pinky promise. And now you’re forced to realize that there won’t be any more pinky promises...there won’t be any more firsts for you to have together.
You’re brought back to reality by your hot tears splashing onto your thumb. Silently, you press the gun into his palm and your lips against his. It’s not sweet or romantic, it’s pure desperation and grief. It’s the most bittersweet farewell you’ve ever had to give. The two of you milk it for all you can before you pull your forehead back enough to rest it against his own.
“I love you,” you say quietly, “you are the strongest person I have ever met and you made this hell hole liveable. Having you by my side has been the greatest honor of my life. We...we knew what we were getting into and I need you to understand that I would do it all again. Every single time.”
You close your eyes as the sounds of his choked sobs ring through your head. You can’t bear to see that heartbroken look in his eyes that you know is there; you take a few stabilizing breaths before reaching up to kiss him once more. You savor this one, memorizing every piece of him you possibly can.
Finally, you’re able to look him in the eyes. They’re red and puffy, he looks so miserable and you wish for nothing more than the ability to wash it all away.
“I never thought I would let anybody close to me ever again I’ve known loss before and I never wanted to go through that again but I would be an idiot to pretend like I regret our time together. I’ll miss you so much...so fucking much,” he says, gripping the gun so tight you watch as his knuckles go white. “I’ll never forget you. No matter who I meet, no matter how long I live, I’ll always remember you.”
He pulls your uninjured arm up to rest on his chest; you feel the heavy, quick beating of his heart. He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes; you do your best to return it but it’s probably ruined by the tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I love you.”
“Goodbye, 10k.”
You feel the cool press of metal against your skull; the last thing you hear is 10k in such a vulnerable voice saying, “I give you mercy.”