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Sam was sure this had to be it. Her whole body burned with pain, her muscles and joints, her feet and hands. Even her teeth hurt. This had to be death, it just had to be she thought, staring up at the church ceiling through tearful eyes. She turned her head slightly, noting she was alone. He was still gone. Eric. A man with the saddest eyes she had ever seen in her life. He’d braved the city to find her the medication she needed to take away the pain. She knew she didn’t have long left but Eric wasn’t willing to give up on her. His jacket lay at her side on the church pew and she pulled it over her to keep warm, taking in the scent of him on the collar. His aftershave, mixed with a little sweat, and a scent that was his. It grounded her, a comfort in these dark moments. She’d grown used to his presence now after the last day and a half together and she worried for him now. What if the creatures had got him. She felt a tear slide down her face as she looked back up at the painted ceiling, giving her something to focus on while she waited. She wanted to sleep and she would when Eric was safely by her side again. Frodo too, the little rascal following the young law student on his quest. Frodo would look out for him. He was a little shit at times but he was a comfort to those in need, to Sam especially. She felt herself smile softly, blinking slowly, more tears sliding down her face, mingling with the beads of sweat on her face.
She must have zoned out as she didn’t hear the footsteps approach but a presence beside her made her wake and turn her head again, her eyes meeting the chocolate brown of Eric’s eyes as he knelt beside her. He smiled softly and held up the box of medication. She managed her own smile and nodded slowly. Frodo jumped up on the pew by her head, curling his paws under his body and lying down. Eric went about opening the box and taking out a patch, slowly opening it. Sam turned onto her side with some difficulty before lifting her shirt to expose her bare skin. She was filthy, yet she hoped the patch would hold. Eric was so gentle, nimble fingers rucking her shirt up just a little more and stretching the skin out with his thumbs before placing the patch on her side, pressing it down so it would stick. Sam let out a soft sigh, knowing she’d have some relief from the pain soon. Eric huffed a gentle laugh as she gave a thumbs up with one hand yet her other gripped his fingers in thanks. He dropped his head to her side, his forehead pressing against the bare skin of her belly, his breath tickling it softly as he breathed out a relieved sigh. Sam just lay there, those little things comforting her more than he knew. She’d been so deprived of a comforting touch, mostly of her own insistence since she was diagnosed, but Eric was here and he was alive and he was with her. She reached for him, running her fingers through his hair softly, making him turn his head to glance up at her, but not lift it from her hip.
“Thank you …” she mouthed. He smiled softly.
“You’re welcome,” he said back, his voice barely a whisper. He was sweating and dirty and those sad eyes were full of tears desperate to fall. But he was here and she was so grateful for him. They just watched each other in the silence, Sam’s fingers carding gently though Eric’s hair. Eric glanced down at the floor, his eyes catching Sam’s notebook, pages now ragged and filthy, the page that was open displaying one sentence. My father played beautiful piano.
“My father played beautiful piano” he repeated in a whisper. Sam let a gentle smile slide onto her face.
“He’d love to bring me to a play at the jazz club and then afterwards we’d get pizza,” she whispered back. Everything suddenly made sense, why she wasn’t going for the boat. Why she was heading to Harlem for pizza. She wanted to do this before she died. That made Eric’s heart hurt.
“What happened to him?” There was a long silence.
“He died. Like I am now.” Eric squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to break. He didn’t want her to die. He barely knew her but he had an overwhelming urge to protect her. He cared about her. He wouldn’t have risked his life for her meds if he didn’t. He linked his fingers with hers, both of their grips tight.
“Not before we get pizza …” he said softly. Her eyes shone with more tears at his words, swallowing to clear her throat before she answered.
“Not … before we get pizza.” His own eyes grew wet again, a tear slipping down his cheek, her hand moving from his hair to his face, wiping it away softly with her thumb.
“Sam …”
“Shh, its okay. I’m here with you now . Focus on that.” And he did. He lifted his head from her hip and leaned down and pressed a small kiss next to the patch on her skin before he pulled the fabric back down over it. Sam gripped his fingers that little bit tighter, watching another lone tear slide down his cheek and down his jawline before it dripped to the floor. “You should sleep.”
“I won’t be able to …”
“Try … for me,” she mouthed. Eric smiled ever so softly before nodding. He looked for his coat to use as a makeshift bed, noting it wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It made him smile wider. He wanted nothing more than for her comfort. She tapped his shoulder, making him look up. “Come up here.” Eric looked at the large pew she lay on. The was space, but not really enough for the two of them.
“Sam, I don’t want to hurt you …” he whispered. She shook her head and patted the pew. He stilled a moment before he got up, sliding off his shoes and loosening his tie a little. She moved slowly and slightly to let him on,, Eric lying down on the pew beside her, wedging her between the back of the pew and his body, Sam acting like his own personal blanket, half draping herself over him, letting him wrap his arms around her, her head fitting snugly under his chin and her ear over his heart, the soft beat soothing her, letting her know he was there with her, despite how much she wanted him to leave her alone at the start. She needed him here. She wanted him here. This was the most comfortable she had been in a long time, since she ended up in hospice. She needed his touch, the touch of another human being. And his touch was gentle and soft and comforting, everything she had longed to feel for a long time. She felt a tear slide down her nose, sniffing gently but Eric heard her, wrapping his arms tighter around her body and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She pulled their coats over them and they stilled, just breathing in each other and the silence around them.
“How is your pain?” he asked and Sam smiled softly into his shirt. He was always looking out for her.
“Maybe a seven …” she said. He nodded and loosened his grip ever so slightly in case he was adding to that pain. They lay together in the silence of the church, the others scattered around huddled together in their own bubbles, whispering between themselves, cleaning wounds and comforting each other, just like Eric and Sam. Sam felt herself begin to drift off.
“I was going to kill myself …” Eric said softly, so quietly that she wasn’t sure she had heard right. She tilted her head up to meet his eyes with her own worried ones, his heart beating faster in his chest beneath her ear.
“ Eric …”
“This was all too much, even before the world started ending,” he whispered. “Panic attacks, anxiety, the feeling of failure. I’ve barely heard from my parents since I got here. The last girl I dated broke up with me. I think she only went out with me because she felt sorry for me. School is a lot and that brought on more anxiety and panic. I just wanted to go home” She listened to him, the soft whisper he spoke in soothing, despite the pain his words held. “I went to the subway yesterday, before all this started, and I stood on that platform and thought no one would miss me if I jumped. I was ready. But then … aliens happened and Frodo found me when I pulled myself out of the flooded subway. A speeding train would have been quicker than drowning.” His voice broke and he sniffed quietly. “Then I found you.” Sam raised herself up the best she could despite her pain on his chest, her hand slipping to his cheek, caressing it with her thumb. “I didn’t mean to make it weird by following you. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“I’m sorry I tried to push you away …” Eric shook his head, mouthing ‘it’s okay’ as he brought his hand up to hers, his thumb caressing her fingers. “I’m glad you didn’t do it. I’m glad you are here with me.” They shared a soft smile before Sam leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to Eric’s quivering lips, so soft he barely felt it but it made his insides burn all the same. They were both tired and dirty, covered in sweat and grime, yet her lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever felt in his life, despite the chaste nature of the kiss. She pressed her forehead to his cheek before she lay down against his shoulder again, gripping his shirt as if it was her only lifeline. He held her, wanting nothing more than to take her pain away.
They managed some sleep, both waking stiff and sore, yet Sam’s pain was reduced considerably from the meds. Eric had helped Sam clean up a little, getting her back into her cardigan and shoes, sliding her beanie back onto her head. He helped her into his coat too, keeping her as warm as he could. They found him some quieter shoes in the church’s clothing donation box and they headed back out onto the silent streets together, Frodo nestled in Sam’s tote bag. Sam reached for Eric’s hand and they walked together with their fingers linked in companionable silence. There was no one around, probably holed up where they could hide away, the survivors anyway. Eric couldn’t help but think of his parents back home, whether this was on the news, whether they knew what was happening, whether they worried about him? Surely they did worry about their baby boy. But was this happening where they were too? He had no way of knowing. They could be gone for all he knew. He felt Sam squeeze his hand and he glanced at her.
“Okay?” she mouthed and he nodded. She didn’t look convinced. They continued their way through the streets, wary of their own footsteps until they reached Harlem. Sam let go of his hand, stepping forward to the ruined remains of Patsy’s Pizzeria. Eric saw her shoulders sag, looking up at the ruined building himself before watching Sam walk away and crumple to the ground in the middle of the road. He went to her, kneeling down beside her, Frodo sitting in front of them. Her things had tumbled out of her bag as she had gone down and Eric placed them back in, picking up the notebook with my father played beautiful piano now smudged over the lines of the page. He glanced at it before he looked at her, her eyes meeting his before she put her head against his shoulder, a tear rolling down her cheek. He put down the notebook and took her in his arms, holding her tight, cradling her head. She sniffled, letting him hold her, gripping his shirt sleeve in comfort. He rocked her gently, his lips against her forehead softly. His eyes took a glance up and down the street before he spoke.
“Where did your dad play piano?” he asked softly. It took Sam a bit of time to respond but she eventually pulled back from him and wiped away her tears before standing and taking his hand, leading him to a door not far from Patsy’s, Frodo following at their heels. Eric took her around the shoulders gently, letting her lean into him a little as she led him into the jazz club, the doors unlocked. The calming air of the club made Sam breath out in relief, Eric leading her to sit at one of the tables. He took her tote bag and put it down for her, letting her rest. He knelt down in front of her, holding her hands in his. He gestured to her side and she moved gently to life her shirt and he checked her patch, which was still firmly attached for now.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand, making her smile gently. She looked confused for a moment but she nodded. Eric went outside, hoping to find what he was looking for. He stood on the street corner and glanced around, his eyes finally resting on a pizza place. It was no Patsy’s but he wanted to do this for her. He went into the pizza place, which wasn’t as ruined as Patsy’s was and glanced around, heading around the cash register to the back. There were several pizza boxes stacked high, unfortunately all empty. He continued his searching until he came across a delivery bag with three pizza boxes inside. He pulled them out and found three cheese pizzas. He grabbed one and carried it back to the jazz club, hiding it behind his back. Sam was sitting on the edge of the stage, savouring some whiskey in a glass as he entered the bar, moving to sit with her. He managed to keep the pizza box out of sight before asking for her pen. She narrowed her eyes slightly before she gave it to him. He turned from her, keeping the pizza box hidden as he wrote on it. He could feel her eyes on him before he turned with the box in hand, with his own handwritten ‘Patsy’s’ scrawled over it. She looked from the pizza box to him, the young man smiling at her before he opened the box and put it down between them. He knew it wasn’t Patsy’s but they said they’d get pizza, so he wanted to do this for her and who said cold pizza wasn’t just as good? Sam picked up a slice and took a bite as Eric did the same, huffing a laugh when she shrugged, yet took another bite. Her eyes were shining and he knew that she was thankful. He had tried, for her. She handed him the glass of whiskey and he took a drink, the burn going down surprisingly comforting. He handed the glass back to her and she took a sip.
They spent the afternoon in that jazz club, quiet and safe together, Frodo lazing around in one of the booths. Eric tried to lift her spirits by doing magic tricks with a deck of cards for the ‘audience’ in the jazz club, Sam as his assistant. They giggled under their breath and drank some more whiskey before they went back to sitting for a while, Sam curled into his side as he held her.
“We need to get you on a boat …” Sam whispered. Eric sat up, making her look up at him at the movement.
“What about you?” he mouthed, his eyes full of worry. Sam felt a lump in her throat.
“I’m not going with you,” she replied softly.
“Sam …” She shook her head at him, clasping his hand in hers.
“Eric …” she said, feeling more tears threatening to fall. His expression made her heart break, his big brown puppy dog eyes wet again. She’d never seen a man with so much emotion in his eyes, not like Eric. “I don’t have long left. You deserve to live. You deserve to be on that boat.”
“So do you. We can get there. I can look after you …”
“Eric, you don’t need me as a burden to you,” she said. “I’m ready when my time comes.”
“But I’m not,” Eric said, a little louder than his whisper and Sam clasped her hand to his mouth, both sitting still for the moment to ensure that it hadn’t attracted any attention. When they were sure it was fine, she dropped her hand from his mouth, her thumb tracing his bottom lip gently. “I don’t want you to go.” Sam pulled him into her embrace, letting his head fall to her shoulder, Sam clasping the hair at the back of his head gently as she held him, rubbing his back with the other hand.
“I don’t want to go either, but life has other plans for me,” she whispered against his ear. “Please Eric, I want you to be safe.”
“I can’t leave you, Sam …” he said, pulled back from the hug and taking her face in his hands, caressing her cheekbones with his thumbs. “Please don’t make me leave you here.” He pressed his forehead to hers. He began to breathe heavily like in the subway tunnel, the panic rising up in his chest. Sam held him, her hands on his grounding him, calming him.
“Eric, look at me. It’s okay … it’s okay,” she whispered, pressing a hand over his heart, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath her palm. “Breathe for me.” She took some breaths, willing him to copy her, her forehead still pressed against his. He took some deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. “Good, you’re good. I’ve got you.” It took him a few minutes to calm right down, Sam not letting him go for a second. Frodo had come over and lay down between them, sensing Eric’s distress, no doubt. “You’re making it so hard for me to send you away, Eric.”
“Then don’t. I want to stay with you,” he said. Sam went to argue back but Eric’s lips against hers stopped her. She froze, as he continued to hold her face, kissing her softly, sweetly. He pulled back after a few moments, noting how frozen she was. He had made a mistake, he had to have. He opened his mouth to apologise but she pulled him back in by his tie, her lips pressing against his once more. He wrapped an arm around her, his other hand holding her face softly as their lips moved against each others. Sam sighed softly against them, taking in the softness of Eric, how gentle he was. When it almost seemed like an eternity had passed, she pulled back, their foreheads touching again, her eyes searching his chocolate brown ones.
“How can I send you away now?” she whispered before she kissed him once more.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sam.”