Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For several long moments, Melissa simply took in the sight. She then put her hands together, took a deep breath and exhaled, pointing her hands out. She then exploded.

“How the HECK did this even happen!?” 

Zachary guiltily wrung his hands together, worrying at his front tooth. They stood like that for several moments, the human glaring and the zombie looking like a kicked puppy. She finally groaned, rubbing her forehead. 

“Really. You know by now if you get hungry, just go to the fridge. Why did you have to eat all the toilet paper?” Melissa gestured to the pile of empty tubes heaped up on the living room floor, some still wet with drool and chunks of chewed up pulp stuck to them. Zachary simply shuffled his feet, and let out an apologetic groan as he fiddled with the mended hem of his uniform.

She didn’t bother getting mad again, and just let herself fall onto the couch. She let out a groan. After several weeks, she was fairly sure she was making a new body-mark in the cushions that would likely stay there for decades afterward. And it probably wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

It had been about three weeks after a foot soldier zombie had broken into her house to eat her, and then the exact same zombie moved in with her the exact same day. From then on, Melissa had learned many things about zombies, starting with how much they ate.

Zachary was almost constantly hungry; the only time he stopped trying to nibble on everything was if he had managed to stuff himself until his scrawny frame bulged out like a balloon. Even then, the food had (somehow) all vanished in a matter of a few hours, and he would go back to taste-testing everything in the house, edible or not. It had only taken a few days before he’d consumed nearly all of the oh-so hated breakfast portions, and she’d barely restrained him from eating all of her dinner meals. 

Yet, it wasn’t really an option to let him go hungry. Whenever more than a day passed without him eating, which had happened thankful only once during that first week, he’d stalked her about the house, drooling behind her. She’d had to bat away grasping hands, and very nearly considered locking him in a room to avoid getting her skull bit open before she managed to satiate him with a stash of old granola bars that had been collecting dust in a forgotten cabinet. 

After that, she had made sure to ask for extra portions. When the melonpult distributor gave her a strange look, she awkwardly patted her stomach and said, “Sitting in an office all day is hard work, you know!”. She’d then given her version of a persuasive sales woman's smile that would’ve horrified the Cheshire cat. She got her extra portions, but she was fairly sure it was mostly to make sure she never smiled at the melonpult again. 

The next thing Melissa learned was that zombies were much more curious than they seemed. Well, at least, Zachary was. The problem with that? His method of exploring involved putting them in his mouth. And if he put something in his mouth, there was a good chance that he’d eventually try to eat it to satiate his endless appetite. And just like one would’ve with a toddler, Melissa had to wrestle with him more than once to get him to spit out one household item or another before he swallowed it. She’d never once seen him go to use the restroom (yet), and she dreaded to think of what would happen if he attempted to eat something like her phone. Most likely, she’d have to hold a funeral for it.

One last thing? Zombies were painfully dumb. Maybe it was worse or better with other zombies, but with Zachary alone Melissa had found herself facepalming. The best thing she could compare it to was the times she had babysitted her baby nephew for her sister. Both had understood almost nothing of common courtesy or common sense, and literacy knowledge was horrifically lacking. The one thing Zachary had over that little brat was that he at least attempted to learn when Melissa sat him down to explain things like how to open doors, or stove safety. Even if half of the time he’d get a headache and forget at least half of the things she told him, he still made an attempt. He’d even gotten down most of how to function in a house, with minimal fires (never before had Melissa felt the need to keep so many wet towels on standby and an emergency route to the breaker box in case he ever attempted to use an outlet again).

It hadn’t been too bad though, living with a zombie in the house. Most of the time, he followed behind her like a duckling, watching her talk on the phone and drink coffee as if it were the greatest movie in the universe. A few times he had attempted, emphasis on “attempted”, to do chores around the house. After the first few explosions though, she’d banned him from handling any aside from the most basic cleaning chores that he’d mastered. 

Melissa had to admit, it was nice to have some company, even if it was a rotting corpse that reeked like garbage and occasionally left only to come back covered in spilled chlorophyll and bleeding purplish-red blood from what was undoubtedly a plant-hunting massacre in an attempt to eat her neighbors. He was one of the few people she’d met who’d actually bothered to sit and listen to her, lazy eyes snapping to attention as Melissa attempted to explain how appliances worked. For what tasks she trusted him with, he was astonishingly persistent, refusing to step away until it was finished to her satisfaction. It was endearing to see how his green eyes would sparkle when she’d pat him on the shoulder and tell him, “Good job,”.

He’d even gotten his own space in her unused second bedroom, a space that might’ve been an office for the day she had the motivation to move her stuff there. But now, it housed a simple bed, a closet that occasionally saw use as storage for Zachary’s weaponry, and a pile of junk in the corner that had steadily grown that Melissa occasionally picked through to see what bizarre item he had picked up. He had adamantly refused to wear any clothes besides his torn up uniform, but to her relief he had occasionally permitted her to mend the clothes, and spray him down with air freshener and antibacterial spray. When she did though, his eyes lit up like fireworks and he would giddily dance. Melissa couldn’t help but giggle as he’d break into dance moves that didn’t seem physically possible for something that looked like it shared the structural constitution of a popsicle stick tower taped together by sugar-crazed kindergarteners. 

All in all, it was certainly a busier existence. Dare Melissa say it, her life had actually gotten a bit more fun. But there was always a second side to it. Such as the toilet paper shortage that was now happening.

After a solid minute of lying on the couch, Melissa finally got up. Zachary had moved to stand right in front of her, bugging green eyes attempting to convey concern as he clamped his mouth shut. She sighed and patted him on the head, his helmet thunking on his head as she did.

“Well, that’s a new lesson to learn. Don’t eat the toilet paper.” Melissa then muttered, “Now I’m going to have to go get more. I’m not going to go to the bathroom without my toilet paper.”

She heaved herself up, Zachary shuffling back to let her stand unimpeded. She stretched, back letting out little cracks, and then smacked her lips. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Zachary was waiting at the bottom of the stairs when she descended dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants with her one good purse slung over her shoulder, his guilty look still on his face. “I’m just going to go out to that emergency depot and see if they have any on hand. If not, then tissue paper or paper towels instead. You be good now, and don’t touch anything until I get back. Got it?”

The foot soldier nodded, plopping himself in the middle of the living room in a messy criss-cross and giving her a thumbs up. Melissa just sighed, then walked up to the foyer. She suddenly stopped when she reached for the doorknob, then facepalmed. 

Was I really going to walk out into the zombie infested neighborhood without an escort? I may be dumb, but now I’m really losing it!

For not the first time since she moved into town, she cursed her cheapness and the lack of a decent car dealership in Neighborville. 

Momentarily, Melissa debated calling one of the local plant hotlines to see if they could send a plant escort. She then scoffed. After what happened last time she got their “protection”? 

A thought then came to her. Melissa furrowed her brow in thought. 

Was this really a good idea? 

Then again, if she was going to avoid calling the plants, it was really the only other viable option other than booking it through the neighborhood and hoping that a zombie horde wouldn’t spot her.

Melissa turned and yelled, “On second thought, do you want to come Zach? I do need some protection in the neighborhood, and-”

Before she could finish her sentence, the sound of an igniting jetpack interrupted her, and she watched as Zachary launched himself into the foyer and skid to a stop, an idiotic smile on his face. He gave a smart salute. Melissa just suppressed her groan as she turned to her abandoned coat hanger and took off an absurdly big trench coat. 

“First things first, let's get you disguised before we head out. I’d rather not get you or me executed today.”

Chapter Text

The early afternoon was peaceful when they headed out, birds chirping and the heat of the sun pleasantly balanced out by a light breeze and puffy clouds giving occasional shade. There weren’t any gargantuars or elite zombies wandering about the streets at this point in the day, and only a few mindless browncoats wandered the streets. Now with a disguised (somewhat) Zachary by her side, Melissa finally took her first walk out of the house in likely months. 

Since he still refused to take off his uniform, including even the helmet, she settled for covering him up fully. He now plodded forward in oversized rainboots and a trench coat that the plants had mailed to her in a shitty attempt to try and apologize for the incident , but had until now sat gathering dust. She had also slapped on a sombrero over top of his helmet, the only thing with a rim big enough to sit snugly on his head without falling off and an band to tie under his chin to be extra secure, and a pair of sunglasses to hide the off-color of his eyes. Lastly, she’d gotten out some white face paint, a secret santa gift that she’d gotten from someone who she couldn’t recall the name of, and had smeared it all over his visible skin and hands. 

It was a dreadful disguise really; the trench coat bulged over the jetpack and made Zachary look even more hunchbacked than before, and it did little to hide his awkward gait and gangliness. The paint was already cracking, the greenish skin showing through the lines as his face moved and his hands moved about even only slightly. Even with the extra air freshener she sprayed on him, the scent of fetid meat was still very much present if one leaned forward and took a big enough wiff.

Melissa tried not to worry too much about it though. Considering that she’d seen other people around town wear fursuits or parkas in the middle of the summer though, his getup probably (hopefully) wouldn’t attract too much attention. Hell, she’d seen zombies and plants go around in even weirder costumes, some of which had made Melissa question her sanity. In any case, her running cover story for Zachary was that she was walking with a neighbor who had sun allergies and wanted to remain in disguise. If no plant would buy that initial story, she knew ways to guilt trip them into submission (and an evil little part of her eagerly wanted to try that out).

Zachary himself didn’t seem to mind the bulky disguise, although she could see out of the corner of her eye his fingers constantly fidgeting as he clearly longed to hold out his gun without having to deal with the cumbersome coat. However, it would be difficult to explain to a plant how a human managed to get a hold of Zombie-grade weaponry. After she’d thoroughly scolded him and given him some leftover pizza, he had managed to restrain himself, and politely walked beside her as they’d walked down the sidewalk. 

Only one browncoat had dared to challenge them, a conehead who slowly shuffled up to them arms outstretched and moaning with a wide open mouth. Melissa, who’d only noticed it when he was a mere few feet away behind them, had nearly jumped when it groaned out a weak, “Brains!”. 

Almost instantaneously, Zachary had shuffled to move in front of her, and the browncoat paused when it saw the barrel of the gun poking out of the coat at it. It let out a brief confused moan. After a moment's hesitation though, the browncoat dismissed the oddity and took another step forward, reaching out to grasp at her face. With a deep snarl that Melissa never expected could come out of him, Zachary fired several warning shots, yellowish bullets splattering all over the front of the browncoat. Either too confused or too stupid to realize, the browncoat simply stood there, brushing its hands over its raggedy shirt while let out gargled whines.

After seeing the browncoat thoroughly baffling itself, Zachary withdrew his gun before sticking his arm back out through the sleeve. For a moment, she swore she saw him roll his eyes, mouth sneering as he turned back to her. She gave a shaky thumbs up, more rattled by the close encounter then she would’ve liked. That was enough for the foot soldier though, Zachary cheerfully gurgling before following after her again as she took the lead once more, although this time she kept her head on a swivel to avoid another near-disaster.

It was when they finally were on the street, the corner grocery store turned bulk-supply depot just before them, when Melissa’s heart began to speed up. This first step into the depot was going to be key, maybe even the ultimate decider, of whether Zachary was going to live another day or get his head blown off. Without realizing it she quickly reached out and took his hand, squeezing it like a stress ball and feeling the bones and wet-leather skin shift under her hand.

Zachary stiffened, but squeezed back, his own hand nearly squashing Melissa’s but stopping short. He dopily smiled at her, and when she returned the gaze he shot her a thumbs up. 

“Just stay cool, alright?” Melissa muttered. “Remember what we talked about. Just ignore the big green things and we’ll be good to go home and eat that nice big Supreme pizza.” With that, she pulled him to the automatic doors. As the doors slid open, they stepped inside from concrete to cool white and black patterned tile. 

Even with the brief encouragement, Melissa was nearly unable to stop herself from facepalming as she beheld the worst monstrosity of a grocery store lobby she’d ever seen in her life.

Right amongst the shelves of food and essentials, there stood a gigantic wooden podium that was probably stolen from town hall and then elevated on a multi-tier plywood platform that must have been built by a blind carpenter. The enormous face of a smiling sunflower was hastily carved on the front of the podium over top of the old Neighborville insignia, and it was ringed with an array of festival lights, bedazzling stones, and streamers that were just sticking on by the dusty grease that had built up on the wood after weeks of not being cleaned. And everywhere on the shoddily built platform, there was an army of potted plants.

The array of potted peashooters, kernel pults, melon pults, and dozens more bizarre looking plants and fungi Melissa didn’t even recognize all turned in unison to size up the new customers. Zachary’s grip on Melissa’s hand was near bone crushing, and she could just feel him barely restraining himself from reaching into his belt and pulling out his weapons. His grip became stronger, and Melissa had to hastily whisper to him, wincing as dirty fingernails dug into the back of her hand, “Please loosen up. You’re going to break my hand.” 

He acquiesced, but Melissa didn’t feel much better. Especially once she spotted the crown of yellow petals that poked up from behind the podium. With a cheer, a sunflower jumped on top of the podium, spraying a fount of sun from her head with a twirl and triggering confetti to rain from the ceiling. They both jumped back, Melissa with a strangled yelp and Zachary with a choked groan. With a voice that would rival Dora’s in pitch and positivity, the sunflower cheered, “Hello neighbors! And welcome to the Sunshine Supply Depot!”

Now it was Melissa’s turn to death grip Zachary’s hand, quietly reminding herself of the reasons why she shouldn’t punch a plant in the face. The sunflower paused in its happy dance, squinting first at Zachary who was shooting a glare at it, then at Melissa who was also shooting a glare at it. It blinked in surprise, then said much more quietly, “Oh! Oh. Are you...Melissa Eberdeen?”

“Yup, it’s me-” Melissa recoiled as the sunflower bounced down with unprecedented agility, roots gripping and pushing off as it skipped down the pile of wood and wove between plants. It was soon in her face, beaming even brighter than before. Zachary didn’t let go of Melissa, but leaned away from the encroaching plant with a low, rattling growl. Melissa just remained deadpan, not giving it the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Didn’t expect to get to see you at all!” the sunflower chirped. “All the plants were all so worried when you stayed in your house all by yourself for so long! We thought the zombies had gotten to you!”

Oh, they already did, petalhead. And he’s more tolerable than you after three weeks than you in ten seconds after I got almost a year away from you. Melissa thought. But she just cooly replied, “Well my head hasn’t been ripped off my shoulders and used as a soup bowl, so I’d say I’m pretty alive.”

The sunflower flinched a bit at the bluntness, but their voice remained as chipper as ever. “Well good for you!” They stepped back a bit, clearly uncomfortable at not having a human in awe of them, before continuing. “So! What do you need today? Food? Clothes?”

“Just toilet paper,” Melissa said. “Just point me to the right aisle and I’ll be on my way.”

The sunflower smiled and pointed to one of the aisles labeled “Toiletries”. “The toilet paper should be right over there! Do you need any-”

“No. I’m good,” Melissa said cooly, and the Sunflower’s smile drooped a bit as it lowered its stem hand. The sunflower then turned to look at Zachary again, curiously raising an eyebrow at the fidgety trench-coated figure who kept looking at the happy flower like it was roadkill. 

“Who’s your friend? I don’t remember there being anyone else listed as living in your household,” the sunflower raised an eyebrow. Zachary stiffened, but before he could make his own response and blow his cover Melissa covered for him.

“He’s one of my neighbors! He wanted to go out to take a walk with me, so we just decided to go out together,” Melissa said. Melissa pushed on, layering an extra sugar coated layer to her words as she put on a pair of sparkling eyes and an imaginary halo. “If you’re wondering about the hat and coat, it’s an essential part of his wardrobe. He’s terribly allergic to sun and artificial light, so we had to dress him up and cover him all over in sunscreen otherwise he’d break out in hives. He’s terribly shy, and he constantly has to worry about burning his skin, so he has to keep on these clothes indoors and outdoors.” 

“Erm-” the sunflower began, raising a questioning eyebrow. But Melissa pouted, and cut the plant off before it could continue.

“You don’t want to ruin my poor neighbor’s one day out, do you?”

To seal the deal, Melissa hugged Zachary and patted him on the head as if to comfort him, taking another moment to shoot another scathing death stare at the plant in faux accusation. Zachary froze up as she embraced him, ceasing his angry stare to instead blink in wonder. The sunflower’s eyelid twitched, but it didn’t press. 

“Oh, alright then!” the sunflower said, voice audibly straining to remain peppy. “I hope you have a sunny time today then! If you need any help, just let me know!” With that, it flounced back to the podium, bouncing back up the heap to duck back into wherever it had popped out of. Once there was no longer a hint of yellow petals, Melissa let go of Zachary with a sigh. He reached out, as if to keep her close, but his arms fell back to his sides and an inscrutable expression crossed his face.

“Good riddance,” she mumbled, and she took a quick look at Zachary. He was still tense, still shooting suspicious looks at the potted plants that still looked at them. However, he was no longer biting at the bit to massacre plants. At least, she hoped he was. 

“Lets just go get the toilet paper,” Melissa said before taking Zachary by the hand and dragging him away, the beady black eyes of the plants following them until they vanished behind the aisles.

…

Either the sunflower was new, a complete dunce, or they’d moved stuff around without telling them. But no matter how many times Melissa trawled up and down the aisle or craned her neck to look at the very backs of the top shelves, there wasn’t a single roll of toilet paper to be seen.

“Stupid plants with their stupid organizational skills,” Melissa’s complaints trailed off into incoherent grousing as she kicked a shelf, rattling several empty plastic containers. Zachary didn’t share in her frustration, mainly because he was too busy exploring the aisles. With more excitement than a kid in Giddy Park, he had been touching and examining every single piece of merchandise over the past several minutes. Melissa had needed to warn him away from eating some of the items, but overall he was actually better behaved and much more content to browse than she was once there were no plants in sight to spoil his mood. 

Melissa let out another groan, smacking her back against one of the shelves and sliding down until she was on the floor. “If we have to hunt through the entire store to find some stupid toilet paper, there’s going to be carnage,” she muttered as she pinched her brow. She looked over at Zachary, who was busy examining a metal tissue box holder, peering through the little top opening until the sunglasses were practically touching his eye with how close his face was to the box. “At least one of us is having fun,” she mumbled. Zachary turned to her and cheerfully gave a thumbs up, too busy with his exploration to notice her scowl.

She got back up, dusting off her pants. “No use just sitting in this aisle. Might as well go check the next one.” With that she set off. She quickly mumbled (more for herself than for Zachary now), “Just get the stupid toilet paper, and then we’ll get to eat a nice cheesy pizza with everything on it.” Zachary gave a broken grin and quickly fell in behind her after putting the tissue container in the wrong place on the shelf, leaving the aisle even more disorganized than it was before they came.

Much like the first aisle though, the other aisles didn’t have any toilet paper. After the fourth fruitless aisle Melissa was about to bang her head into the floor and scream to the heavens as to why this freaking depot didn’t have any toilet paper! Either because he didn’t actually remember why they were at the store or because he was too busy licking every other shelf item, Zachary only looked over curiously as Melissa punched a shelf and nearly upset the array of soda bottles. She put her head in her hands, closing her eyes and letting her forehead press up against the cool metal of the shelves.

“Oh for crying out loud. Should I just get those paper towels we saw back there and call it a day?” she grumbled, not expecting an answer from the mute zombie. What she didn’t expect was the gruff, southern voice that replied.

“Can’t find the toilet paper, miss?” Almost immediately Melissa’s eyes snapped open with recognition and she whipped around her head quickly enough to see stars. When she saw the blinking cornstalk leaning near her, she grimaced.

“Not you again,” Melissa hissed. “What part of ‘Stay away from me or I clobber you with my purse’ do you not understand?”

The Kernel Corn put up his hands (well, corncobs) in appeasement, backing away from her. “Easy now, Melissa. I just saw you rifling through all the shelves and heard from Sundrops in the front that you were looking for toilet paper. Just thought you might need help.”

“Oh please, I don’t need your help,” Melissa growled. She turned to Zachary, who had been previously poking at an mini umbrella but had dropped it, arm nearly dislocating themselves pulling inside his coat to grab at his gun. She mouthed a quick “no” at him, but she jerked to grab for her purse when Kernel Corn attempted to tap her shoulder. “How many times do I need to say it? No touching!”

“Well, suit yourself,” Kernel Corn raised an eyebrow at her, corncobs put on his stalk like a disapproving teacher. “But I wouldn’t use the paper towels though. They’re poor quality, and they scratch. We do happen to have toilet paper, and I know just where to get some good quality rolls.” He concluded with a grin, applying all of his professional power into looking extra charming at that moment.

Melissa bit her lip. On one hand, she could trust the word of one of the general Kernel Corns, the same plant who nearly got her killed. On the other hand though…

Curse my desire for quality toilet paper.

“Fine. But make it snappy,” Melissa said.

The corn looked far too proud of himself as she said that, and he gave her a beaming smile. Even though he had all of his teeth and he smelled admittedly nice, like a fresh cornfield, she found herself preferring the gap-toothed grin and acrid smell of Zachary. Momentarily, she turned to Zachary, who was now giving her an incredulous look as he switched between glowering at the corn and her in betrayal.

“Sorry, just bear with him for a little bit, we’ll be out of here soon,” Melissa apologized, keeping her voice low enough so the Kernel Corn hopefully wouldn’t notice. Zachary just huffed at that. He kept his arm in the trench coat and trailed behind them, eyes burning holes into the plant general’s husk as the Kernel Corn walked beside Melissa to the back of the store.

“So, what have you been up to?” the corn asked, leaves slapping on the tile as they passed by the lanes of frozen food to the swinging doors of the storage area. He pushed open the door, and gestured to Melissa to pass. When she refused to move, he sighed and passed through, letting Melissa follow after him after she pushed back on the closing door and letting Zachary slip through.

Eventually, she did respond. “Not much. I’ve just been listening to a bunch of airheads fumble around their money and burning out my eyes on the computer. Waiting for the day when I can go outside my house without listening to explosions down the block and corpse blood raining over the fence.”

“Oh,” the corn responded, and he awkwardly tapped together his corn cobs, leaves rustling. He recovered, and declared, “Well, you won’t need to worry much longer. Every day that passes is another house liberated from the grip of Zomboss!”

“You got any statistics on that, Mr. General?” Melissa snarked. 

The corn ignored her jab, and continued on. “Please, you know you can call me Stalkman. And no matter how long it may seem to be taking, we are indeed making progress versus the zombie invasion. You have my promise as a plant that by the time we’re through, there will not be another zombie to worry about again!”

Yet you can’t even notice the zombie walking right behind you, Melissa thought. She didn’t dare say it out loud though. They had now passed through even taller shelves into a larger space, where a forklift had been left in the middle of the floor amidst taped-up boxes and scattered goods that had yet to be organized.

“You do understand we have your best interests at heart, Ms. Eberdeen,” Tallstalk said. “Truly, we don’t want to see you get hurt. And I am truly sorry about what happened that day.”

“Save your apologies,” Melissa muttered. “We both know you plants nearly got me killed. And you certainly nearly killed…” she trailed off, throat and eyes suddenly prickling. Tallstalk shifted in discomfort before he replied, softly.

“And we’ve improved since then, Melissa. We made sure to discipline the plants attending to your safety that day, and we are taking measures to ensure such an oversight never occurs again.”

Melissa scoffed. “You could just let me beat in Chompley and Peasley’s heads with a bat. Maybe then I’ll believe you actually disciplined those nutjobs.”

“You know I can’t let you do that,” Tallstalk said, frowning.

She crossed her arms. “Then we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

The Kernel Corn didn’t say anything else as they went into one of the aisles, Melissa stewing in the silence. Finally, they came across a selection of hulking cardboard boxes labeled with a cartoony cloud and the words, “Cottony Clouds! Only The Best For Your Behind!”.

“Here’s your toilet paper, Melissa,” Tallstalk pointed to one of the open containers, face solemn. “I am honestly concerned for you. I do sincerely hope you consider letting plants back into your yard though. Your corner of the community may be low activity right now, but with how desperate Zomboss is getting, that could change.”

“No thanks to you or your concern,” Melissa grunted, pulling out a glorious bulk-package of fluffy white rolls of glorious toilet paper. “I’m doing just fine.”

With that, she spun on her heel and called out, “Zach! Time to go!” No response. There was no sign of the goofy disguised zombie anywhere, not even a hint of movement. Her heart then stopped when she realized that she hadn’t heard his shuffling behind them for some time now. 

“Are you calling about your trench coat friend?” Tallstalk said. “I think he might have slipped off in the food section while we were talking. Say, have I met him before-”

“CRAP!” Melissa nearly dropped the toilet paper as she took off in a sprint. “ZACH! ZACH! WHERE ARE YOU?”

“Do you-”

“No! Good day!” Melissa bounced to a stop to shoot the confused corn one last look of anger before she bolted back through the stacks, toilet paper clutched to her chest. Her frustration melted away into fear as she ran through, desperately looking for some sign of the zombie.

“ZACH! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, THROW SOMETHING!” Unfortunately, no items were thrown. As she searched more and more fervently, Melissa felt sick, almost ready to vomit as she imagined all the possible worst case scenarios that he could be in. And for the first time, she wished that he would be just a bit more loud. He may be clumsy and oafish, and knock over everything in the area while turning to greet her with a broom to the face. But when he wanted to be, that zombie could be sneaky. 

If she wasn’t around to keep an eye on him, who knew what he would do?

Chapter Text

Zachary didn’t like this “de-pot”. He was indeed a brave, well-trained soldier straight from Zomboss Academy. But no zombie would like wandering around a store full of ugly plants. Even his sense of zombie style felt offended by the amount of layers he had on (he would never wear sunglasses with this sort of pattern). So why did this soldier decide to wander off?

He wasn’t sure either.

It probably had something to do with that delicious smell that wafted into his nose as he was walking behind “Me-liss-ah” and the nasty green yellow shooty plant. He’d followed behind the human dubiously, if only because the human looked just as annoyed by the plants as he was (any zombie could respect that). It was hard to resist the urge to not blow up the plant with his ZPG, but only because “Me-liss-ah” would give him the look. 

He didn’t like the look.

But anyway, he was following behind, ready to beat up the ugly plant if he needed to, when he stopped. He took a quick whiff of the air, shriveled lungs rattling on his ribcage, and his eyes popped wide. Was that...beef? He’d only had beef once, when “Me-liss-ah” had made something called “ham-bur-gers”, which were delicious! (He’d asked for brainburgers, which were even tastier, but she just gave him a strange look. Shame he didn't have a Zomboss Zombie Translator with him). The beef smell was a bit different, but it was definitely beef! And with all those seasonings, sauces.... 

His mouth dropped open, and like a zombie (well, more zombie-ish than before) he shuffled step by step away from “Me-liss-ah” and the ugly yellow plant, not noticing her rising voice as the scent of beef nourished his nostrils. Before it could register to him, he’d wandered off into the stacks of merchandise, and was now feeling very lost. For a moment, Zachary paused to think. He still wasn’t very good at it, with the headaches he got, but “Me-liss-ah” the angry human lady kept insisting he “think things through”.

Yes, he did pride himself on his genius, but even so much thinking hurt! She could only demand so much out of a poor zombie like him! 

His stomach rumbled under his coat, and he sadly patted it. “Me-liss-ah” was very clear that he was not to eat anything in the store, and he did intend to listen. But those paper rolls and the crunchy “breakfast” block he’d eaten had passed through his system, and now his belly roiled in its emptiness. 

Zachary would be strong though! He would not eat anything, no matter how tasty it looked! He was going to be good, and make “Me-liss-ah” not disappointed in him so she would feed him more delicious food!

...It probably wouldn’t hurt to keep following that tasty smell though.

The intrepid zombie continued forward, weaving between boxes as his nose - well, nose holes - picked up on the scent. He didn’t notice the bit of drool that leaked out of his mouth, but he managed to reign in his hungry whine.

After some time of walking in aisles, following the smell, he bumped up against a greyish wall. Zachary sniffed again, and he couldn’t help the groan that escaped him when he realized the scent was no closer to him than it was before. Should he keep following? Zachary scratched his head as he tried to remember what it was “Me-liss-ah” had tried to tell him. It was a while ago, but he was sure she had said something about what to do if he got lost in the “de-pot”. 

Zachary, whatever you do, DON’T GET LOST!

...There was probably more. Zachary focused harder.

If you do though, just stay put and wait for me. The more you move around, the more lost you’ll get. Just wait for me, and I’ll come get you. 

Ohhh, that was it! Zachary could do that! He was very good at standing in one place for hours on end!

He would do it for “Me-liss-ah”! No matter how tempting the beef smelled, he would stay against this wall! He would not get more lost! He would not dis-

“Hey! This is for employees only! What are you doing here?” 

....Oh no.

Zachary turned to see two plants. There was one of those annoying bouncy-cannon mouths, a “peashooter”, who liked to jump everywhere. The other was (shudder) a purple biter, a “chomper”, with a big mouth and an appetite that could rival even a zombie’s. Both were wearing little white hats, and dusty leaves covered in black rubber stuff. And both were now looking at the zombie with suspicious eyes.

“Did you get lost sir? I’m afraid this is the warehouse part of the warehouse,” the “peashooter” said, striding forward on its leaves. The “chomper” let out a bark, drool oozing from the teeth jutting from its wide-open smile, tagging along just behind the “peashooter”.

Zachary backed up with each step the plants took forward, fingers itching even more than ever to lob a stink cloud at them and pull out his blaster to mow them down like the weeds they were. But if he did though-

Remember, no shooting plants! We have to lay low.

But how was he supposed to get rid of stupid plants without the stupid plants shooting him to smithereens? 

“Hey, easy,” The “peashooter” put up its pods. “Just calm down. I just want to ask what you’re doing back here. Did you get lost?”

Zachary opened his mouth, but closed it. Talking to the plants would just blow his cover even faster. He tensed up as the “chomper” snuffled the air, nostrils wrinkling. Did it just pick up on his rich zombie scent?

“Will you stop backing up? I’m just trying to help here!” The “peashooter”, patience running out, suddenly burst forward with sudden speed to reach out toward Zachary. Panic filled him as the space between him and the plant closed. Quite suddenly, organs that previously were busy sitting and rotting in his torso kicked to life as a very old response came to life once more: fight or flight.

Just before the pods could brush the sleeve of his trenchcoat, he batted away the pods. He couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his face as he did, but whether or not the plants noticed didn’t matter. Before the “peashooter” could say anything else, Zachary turned and bolted in the opposite direction as fast as his twisted legs could go.

With how panicked the zombie was, he didn’t notice the brief exchange between the two plants that drifted further and 

The “peashooter” had paused in shock, big black eyes following the fleeing form as the coat and sombrero bumped against boxes, knocking over some of the smaller ones. The “chomper” caught up, sniffing and whining behind the pea pod plant. The plant’s eyes narrowed, and it braced itself to go charging after Zachary, but was stopped by a curt, yet concerned grunt.

“What do you mean don’t follow them? They could get hurt here!” The “peashooter” replied, turning to his purple compatriot. “Even with all of those layers, they could get crushed under boxes or something!”

The “chomper” snuffled, then spoke back with a series of grunts and barks that the peashooter listened to at first with disbelief, then resignation. “Alright, alright, charging after a scared human with hyper is probably not a good way to make friends. But still, shouldn’t we-”

Another series of barks had the “peashooter” heave a sigh. “Alright fine, we’ll just get the manager. But still...” The “peashooter” looked back at where Zachary had fled to, “Do you think this is another…’Melissa’ case?”

The two plants exchanged concerned looks. If Zachary wasn’t already flying back through the aisles in blind panic, he might’ve paused and asked what they meant by ‘Melissa’ case. But unfortunately for him he was...well...flying through the aisles in a blind panic.

Eventually Zachary did stop, mainly by crashing headfirst into a open door. He flopped backward, sombrero and hidden jetpack crunching and crashing onto the floor under his weight. The door itself swung, banging against the doorframe and back out, bumping against Zachary’s galoshes. He moaned weakly, brains flying about his head, and pushed himself up. His eyes drifted about in a daze, unfocused as his head sorted itself out. He refocused with a palm to the forehead, snapping back to attention as he got back up.

He briefly felt up to his head, just lucid enough to remember that he needed to make sure the sombrero was still on to cover his helmet. The zombie relaxed as he felt it still tightly affixed to its head, although the brim was now bent and shedding straw from the crushed edge. Zachary took a quick look around, and to his relief no ugly plants were in sight to question his disguise.

Now that his head was (at least, by usual zombie standards) back in order, Zachary took a look at the door that had so rudely blocked his amazing escape. Admittedly, it wasn’t his greatest escape - he’d done better before, back during the Crazy Dave mansion siege and against much angrier plants, and while looking much more fabulous. He glared at the door, currently shaping up to be one of his worst enemies.

Zachary considered kicking the treacherous door, or “breaking” it like he did to the door that “Me-liss-ah” had the first time he came around. Before he could execute any of these revenges though, a voice came out.

“Woah, who’s there?” A shaggy brown head poked around the edge of the door. A human stepped around the door, eyes wide with some sort of human emotion that Zachary presumed to be “concern”. They had on some sort of blue uniform, with a white square covered in black scribbles. They both blinked in confusion, staring at one another.

“Oh, uh, hello?” The human stood there awkwardly. “I don’t think you’re an employee here.”

Zachary blinked, unsure of what to do. Did “Me-liss-ah” say anything about what to do if there was a person? What little experience he had boiled down to what time he spent with “Me-liss-ah” or trying to break down doors where humans were presumably on the other side. 

“Err, were you the one that hit the door?” The human looked from the door back at Zachary, then gasped. “Oh geez, I knew I shouldn’t have left the door open like that, so sorry. Your hat got ruined!”

After another moment of long silence and Zachary blankly staring at the human, the human cleared their throat. “I’m going to guess you’re in shock or something. And you seem a bit winded from, uh, running. Uh, do you want to come in real quick? Take a quick breather?”

The bewildered zombie found himself pulled past the door by a trench-coat covered arm into a warmly lit room. It was fairly small and mostly just a grey block with a counter on one side with a microwave and a small table surrounded by a few flimsy looking chairs. Yet, after gently leading Zachary to a seat the human flopped back in one with a happy sigh.

“Nothing like the secret break room, huh?” The human kicked up their legs on the table and sighed. “You can, uh, sit down, if you want.”

Zachary gingerly lowered himself into the chair, but was forced all the way to the edge of the seat, awkwardly leaning over. The zombie peeked through his glasses at the man, a little bit curious and unsure of what to do.

The human didn’t seem to notice the vacant look Zachary gave him, eyes closed as he leaned the seat back and kicked his feet up on the table. “Yeah, it's a small room, but it’s a good place to take a break from organizing boxes all day.” He opened one half-lidded eye to look at Zachary. “So, what’s your name? Been a long time since I’ve seen another person out of the house.”

The zombie blinked, and the human frowned, both eyes opening to look at Zachary. “So, uh, not a big talker....Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He put up his hands in appeasement. “Just, uh, it’s been a long time. So are you, like…” The human made some peculiar hand motions, a bizarre look on his face. Zachary just cocked his head in confusion, mouth opening just enough to let a sliver of drool out.

“...I guess that confirms it then,” the human frowned, then shrugged. “That’s okay though, just nice to know I’m not the only one here.” Suddenly, the microwave pinged, and the human perked up. 

“Oh nice! My lunch is done!” The human kicked back off the table, and to Zachary’s amazement pivoted one leg of the chair about as it spun, and before it could tip all the way back leaned back forward smoothly. He leapt out of the chair just before the counter, and the chair clattered back onto all four legs. Zachary clapped, and the human turned back, face coloring red. “Oh, thanks, don’t know why but I’ve been practicing chair tricks for a hobby.”

Zachary’s clapping petered off as he became erect, sniffing as the smell he’d been pursuing finally revealed itself. The delicious beef smell was from the human’s lunch! The human blocked some of his view, but Zachary could just glimpse a bit of brown beef poking out from a pile of long white foodstuff and brown sauce. The rumbling in his stomach came roaring back to life, and more drool came dribbling down his chin.

The human didn’t notice though, back turned and too engrossed with taking a fork to stir about the beef meal to hear the faint groan from Zachary. He reached to pull open one of the cabinet drawers, sticking in an arm and feeling about. He suddenly pulled back out his hand with a cry. “G-Gosh darn!”

He rubbed his hand as a line of red welled up his pointer finger. “Did someone stick a knife in the cabinet or something! Ow!” The human grumbled as he pulled open a drawer and began to shuffle about in it with his uncut hand. As he continued grumbling though, he didn’t notice Zachary getting up, glasses sliding down just far enough for his dilated pupils to be visible.

Zachary himself was barely aware of the action. The hunger, previously just an ache, now roared to life. It hadn’t been this bad since that first week. But any form of self control Zachary might have previously had went out the window as the faint tang of copper entered his nostrils. It was like flipping a switch: rationality was supplanted by nothing but-

Hunger.

Arms outstretched, Zachary reached out his hands as he silently shuffled up behind the human. His hands grasped for his neck. Two feet, then one foot, then right behind them.

“Alright, there are the bandaids-” The human pulled out a box just as Zachary began to close clammy hands around his neck. And then-

“What is going on!”

Chapter Text

The only reason Melissa had managed to find Zachary was due to the sudden crashing of boxes and a loud door slam that had echoed through the warehouse. She’d simply followed the sounds up to a near-closed door plagued with the words: EMPLOYEES ONLY. The door was open just a crack to let out a small line of warm yellow light and what smelled like a hamburger. 

Melissa didn’t notice either of those though. The thing that caught her attention was the subdued, but very hungry-sounding moan and the faint clap of rainboots padding on the floor coming from inside the break room. Before she could think through, Melissa found herself charging the door, toilet paper package held in front of her like a battering ram.

She bashed the door all the way open with the back of her hand. The back of it stung as it contacted the wood, and it was probably going to bruise later. That was far from her mind as she saw the faintly illuminated form of a ruffled looking teen, holding a box of band-aids and staring up at her in surprise. And just behind him, hands just about to clasp themselves around the teen’s neck, Zachary looking at her like a deer caught in headlights. 

“What is going on!” Melissa yelled, still brandishing the toilet paper in front of her. She swiveled between taking in the confused looking teen, and the disguised Zachary. The hungry look in his eyes vanished as soon as she appeared, and a look of shame overcame the zombie’s face. He let his hands fall to the side. For a moment, Melissa wanted to take him by whatever was left of his ear and give him a scolding for the ages. But the look of despondency on his face cut her short.

These thoughts were interrupted by the teen, who finally asked in a mix of confusion and surprise, “Are you another customer? I thought we locked the warehouse door or something?”

Melissa nodded, letting her arms fall so the toilet paper was no longer being brandished like a weapon. “Oh, uh, yes. We are, but we got let back here so I could pick up some toilet paper.” 

She then aimed a scathing look at Zachary, who shrunk back and faintly whimpered. “And I see you found my friend.”

Either too oblivious to the tension growing faster than a Sunflower in fertilizer or polite enough not to mention it, the teen smiled. “Oh! Him! Yeah, I was just letting the poor guy rest here. He just hit the door with his head, and the poor guy was all out of breath.” 

Covertly, shielding his mouth with his hand, he whispered, “He seems a little out of it. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Just doesn’t talk a lot,” Melissa replied curtly. “Now, can you give us a little room? He and I need to have a talk?” she said before stomping over to Zachary. Moving the toilet paper package so it was awkwardly cradled in the crook of her arm, Melissa used her free hand to pull Zachary around so they both faced away from the teen, who took the opportunity to pull open the bandaid box.

“Zach, what was that about?” Melissa hissed. The zombie let out a plantitive groan, but shrunk back as Melissa continued her hissed tirade. “You know what you were doing was bad! I thought we talked about this! No eating people! ”

Zachary let out a soft groan, shoulders bunching up as he stared down at the floor, hands wringing together. Melissa felt a pang of guilt for berating him. He had proven he was intelligent enough to comprehend a very loose definition of right and wrong. But then again, he was a zombie. Zombies always were hungry.

“Look, next time, I’ll pack some extra food for you. So you don’t have to get hungry outside again,” Melissa mumbled. Zachary perked up, faded greenish-yellow eyes fixing on her with unnerving clarity. “Just, please. If you get hungry and there’s no normal food around, go eat toilet paper or something non-alive if you need to. Just leave the people alone, okay?”

It took a moment, Zachary gazing at her with those massive eyes as the gears churned in his head. He then nodded, and again Melissa was struck by the solemnity in his expression, something one wouldn’t expect to see on a brainless meatbag. 

“Okay. Thanks for getting it,” Melissa sighed. She smiled a bit, and she felt a bit of her chewed up, frozen heart thaw out a bit at the mini-salute Zachary gave.

“Oh hey! Are you guys done?” the teen interrupted again, and Melissa huffed before turning back to him. The teen smiled apologetically, although he backed up against the counter upon seeing the irritation written all over her face. “Uh, sorry if I interrupted the moment between you guys. But I just want to just let you know that, uh, if security finds you back here they aren’t going to be too happy.”

“Hmmf,” Melissa grunted. “Well, let's get out of your hair then. Come on, Zach.”

“Wait wait wait!” The teen suddenly cried out. Melissa, having taken Zachary by the hand and just starting to head for the door, rapidly swiveled her head about to glare at him. For a moment the teen hesitated, internally debating how willing he was to risk getting the toilet paper yeeted at his head. He then said, “I know a back entrance, if you don’t want to get caught. Uh, it’s employees only, but I think I can make an exception for you guys. Might be safer at the very least, since no zombies ever think to go around the back of the store.”

“Oh,” Melissa said. “...Thank you?”

“It’s no problem,” the teen grinned. “Besides, it’s good to know that I’m not the only one left in Neighborville! I live by myself, you see, and the lawn plants are nice enough. But they aren’t exactly conversation makers. So uh, if you ever need to come again, I can get you in easily! Even give you some extra stuff on the side!”

Melissa paused. “...Are you trying to date me?”

At that the teen blushed furiously, and stammered. “W-w-what? No! I just, uh…” Under his breath, as he scratched his head and turned to the side, Melissa faintly heard him mumble, “Crap, that came out wrong.”

Melissa saved him from his blustering. “Look, if you need company, I can come over from time to time. Been going through supplies a lot more, so I’ll probably need extras anyway.”

The teen brightened, and he crossed his hands behind his back as he beamed, although still noticeably sweaty. “Oh! Thanks! I, uh, glad we can be friends!” He stuck out his hand. “Names Thompson Jones! What about you?”

“That’s Zachary. I’m Melissa,” Melissa said, awkwardly leaning forward with her toilet paper toting arm to weakly grasp and shake his hand. A brief flash of recognition and a microscopic eyebrow raise crossed Thompson’s face. To Melissa’s relief though he stayed blissfully silent.

“Well, it’s good to meet you!” he chirped. “Alright! Exit time! Follow me!”

With that Thompson spun on his heel, marching out the door with a goofy smile on his face. Melissa covertly whispered to Zachary, “If I didn’t know you, I’d say he’s a goofball.”

Zachary grinned and gave a thumbs up, noticeably crushed sombrero and cracked glasses bouncing on his head. Melissa briefly took in the straw and bit of plastic that shed onto the floor, and she sighed. “Let’s go home. I think we both need that pizza.”

And so the duo walked out before Thompson could plod further ahead and get them lost, Melissa leading with an armful of toilet paper and quietly breathing a sigh of relief as the last hour of stress finally washed off of her, and Zachary being pulled behind, eyes wide and dreamy with thoughts of pizza.