Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam spent a lot of time worrying these days. Worried that they might not find enough food one day. Worried that Leigh might finally give up whatever pretense she was putting on and start attacking their crew. Worried that he might wake up to an extra set of eyes or hands or fingers. (Though he wouldn’t be bitter about an extra arm.) Worried that they might run into something that was too much for them to take on.

Of course, he worried the most about his crew. Worried that Rat might get hurt on their missions, he was a little thing, and quite frankly, wasn’t as strong as the rest of their party. Worried that Sophie would prank the wrong person and get into some real trouble. That she would sneak out and get herself killed. Worried that Hellen might finally lose it with Sophie, or that witnessing the Visitor had warped her mind in some awful way they didn’t understand yet.

Papineau, and Leigh didn’t get the brunt of a lot of Sam’s concerns, they were adults, and could take care of themselves. Hellen only got as much worry as she did since she was just quiet, and Sam never quite knew what was going on with her. But Joel… Joel was very easy to worry about.

Sam looked up from the kitchen table, and glanced at the kid in question. He was cautiously petting Rat on the couch, a repaired Fuzzy (thank goodness Hellen was good with a needle) tucked protectively on the other side of his arm. Sam wondered what version of Joel they would get today during the scouting mission.

Joel just didn’t seem to be… aware. He didn’t know. Some days were better than others, and he knew everyone’s names, knew what going out meant, knew what had happened to his family.
And some days were like today. He had woken up and forgotten who Papineau was, started asking if he was the janitor for school, and when they could expect to go back. Mentioned his family, said that Ben didn’t want to go back, but he would go eventually.

Sam had to explain again, that Ben was dead, the visitor was outside, and they needed to get supplies. He quickly remembered, or claimed to, after this fact, and was ready to help on the little mission, but it still worried Sam.

“I don’t know, am I overthinking this? I usually bring him with us.” He asked Hellen, who stared into an empty mug.

“Joel? He remembers now, doesn’t he? And Papineau is finally over it.” She gestured towards the janitor, who had retreated to the corner and had been in obvious distress after the kid had failed to remember who he was. Now, he just watched Joel and Rat with some obvious distaste for Rat, but the arms crossed indicated some small hurt remained.

“Yeah… over it. And he remembers things- for now. But you know he gets… forgetful, after missions. I get worried he won’t remember one day.”

Hellen gave the kid a thoughtful look. At least, Sam was pretty sure that’s what the look was. The scribbly piece of paper Rat had given her did a very good job at hiding her face.

“Why don’t we take him today, and if he gets worse, we just bring him back early? He’s useful, but we can do without him.”

“You could bring me instead.” Sophie suggested slyly, revealing that she had been listening from the floor, where a half-filled coloring page was being worked on.

“We still haven’t found my mom.”

Sam shook his head slightly at Hellen, who had turned to the girl as if to bluntly tell her that they were likely looking for a corpse at this point.

“Well, maybe next time. I did tell Joel that he could come with us today-” Sam explained gently, but Sophie scowled up at him.

“He always gets to go. Why can’t I? I’m trying to find my mom. His isn’t even around anymore. Even if she was, it’s not like he’d remember her.” She whispered the last part, and Hellen left the table, like a coward, leaving Sam to explain to Sophie why she was absolutely not allowed to say stuff like that.
“Sophie…”

Sam faltered a bit. He didn’t know how you were supposed to tell her that her response was not acceptable. Those were her thoughts, weren’t they? Her opinions, and those didn’t always have a sense of wrong or right, simply an existence. He knew it was based on a dislike of Joel, for some reason she had hinted at but never said out loud. Sam’s best guess was either Joel’s new appearance, or forgetfulness.

“What?” She asked defensively, indicating that she knew, she just wanted to see if he would call her on it. And he would.

“You can’t say things like that. What if he said something like that about your mom?”

Sophie considered that for 10 seconds, until a cackling voice from under the table said,

“Because she’s …heh heh heh… dead?”

A week ago, Sam would have screamed, and leapt away from the table. Now, he just gave a light kick and held his head with his remaining arm, sighing.

“Leigh.”

The woman thing crawled out from under the table, grinning horribly as she always did.

“What? We know what her chances are. …heh heh heh… I’m just being realistic~” Her voice lilted at the end in a terrible sing-song type of tone. Sophie pressed so hard down on the page that a crayon snapped. She jumped up and faced Leigh with a determined anger.

“She’s not dead! She’s strong! And she’s looking for me! Just wait, Leigh- She’ll prove you wrong.”

Leigh might have answered, but then spotted the near death glare from Papineau in the corner, and thought twice about it. A surprisingly wise choice on her part.
“Of course we’re looking for your mom Sophie. But do you understand why you can’t say things like that? Your words can hurt.”

“He’s going to forget it in like, two seconds anyways. Aren’t you Joel?” She raised her voice to be heard by the tooth child on the couch. The unholy cavity of teeth turned to face her, making his uneven, ragged breathing only more audible.

“Hhhhh….. What?”

She gave Sam a very pointed look, and mouthed the words ‘See?’. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He did not know if he had the patience for one of Sophie’s moods today. Then again, if he didn’t have the patience, who would?

“Sophie, that’s not very nice of you. Joel lives here too, you need to be considerate.”

She scowled and crossed her arms, a defiant look coming over her face.

“What if I’m not?” She tested. Always testing, always pushing, to see how he would react. Dimly, he wondered why she did this to him of all people, why she always tried to drive him up the wall, seemingly on purpose.

He couldn’t back down, and let her win this. This was a test of authority, and he became keenly aware of all eyes on him. If he was openly challenged, and backed down, it offered a lot of room for the others to try pushing their own luck. So as much as he hated to act like a parent (he was NOT), he found himself saying,

“You aren’t allowed to go on any trips with us. Not until you write Joel an apology letter. A sincere one.”

Her mouth gaped open, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“What? He doesn’t even know what I said! That’s so not fair.”

“It’s also not fair to treat him like that.”

He felt their eyes still on him.

“Come over here and we can talk about this if you think it’s not fair.” He said, leading her to an unoccupied corner of the room, away from listening ears. She bit her lip and looked angrily out at the wall.

“It’s not like it’s him anymore.” She muttered.

Sam remained quiet. He knew that they had known each other before all of this, went to the same school at least, based on some overheard conversations (it was a small apartment), but he hadn’t suspected that could be the reason for the dislike.

“He was a stupid teacher’s pet. Always the perfect student, and alllll of the dumb teachers were constantly comparing me to him. And now…”

She broke off, and Sam crouched to her level, seeing that there were frustrated tears in her eyes. So there had been animosity before. That explained it. But she wanted to say more. He nodded encouragingly.

“I’m not going to get mad if you just say what you’re thinking.”

“Even though he’s all ugly, he’s still more important. Even though he can’t remember anything, and he’s stupider than I am now, you still want him on missions, over me. Even though I’m just trying to find my mom.”

That’s all this boiled down to? Jealousy?

Made sense. They were still children after all.

But Sam was actually hoping to preserve the relationship between the two through separation.

“Sophie. Have you seen him attack someone before?”

Her brow furrowed.

“No… You don’t let us go on missions together.”

There was a reason for that. It still scared the hell out of Sam when the kid would leap without warning, jaw gaping, teeth rotating towards the unsuspecting target, biting through flesh and bone in an instant, crushing the life out of whatever it had been- all in mere seconds.

“It’s not pretty, and I don’t want you seeing that. I don’t think you’re useless, I just…”

Words, Sam always had a need for more of them to express what he felt.

“Exposing you to everything outside right now… it feels wrong. You still have your sanity, and I’m trying to keep it that way.”

Judging the look on her face, she had not thought of it like that. A flash of anger came across her mouth though, pulling the lips down into a frown.

“...Fine. I still don’t like him that much though.”

“That’s okay, just be… more sensitive to how he might be feeling. He doesn’t forget everything. Even if he did, he doesn’t deserve that treatment, okay?”

She nodded, reluctantly, and he left, feeling incredibly exhausted even though the day had barely begun. They would keep this little mission short.

…

Hellen was a little frustrated with the hallway right now. The plan had been to go to the ground floor, and check if any more new ‘friends’ had made their way inside since the bus took out the wall. Sybill had heard something outside last night, and enemies making their way up to their floor was always a scary thought.

But all of this was immediately thrown away the second they realized something very odd. There was an extra door at the end of the hallway, in line with all of the others, correct number and all. As if it had always belonged there. It most certainly did not, but telling the door that might prove to be difficult.

“I say we go kill our new neighbors. Very rude …heh heh heh… to not make themselves known.” Leigh almost giggled.

“Why don’t we knock?” Sam suggested, a very Sam thing to say. With how friendly he was willing to be at first, it was a miracle he was still alive. Hellen still marveled at the fact that he had just let her in, almost no questions asked when she had knocked at his door.

She ignored both of them and just tried the door. Locked.

If it didn’t want to be opened, she was not the one to try and argue otherwise. Oh well, if it decided to be a problem later, they could handle whatever came crawling out.

“Not worth our time. Let’s just head down like we planned.” She said, and there was a reluctant agreement from Leigh, and a thankful nod from Sam. Joel just breathed, and followed them towards the stairs.

He had been getting worse, a fact that no one was willing to admit out loud just how badly. She had seen his father, Clint, she was pretty certain, in the hall. She had explored that destroyed apartment, seen what the things inside, his family, had become. From what Sam had told her, he had no idea why Joel was still functioning as ‘well as he was’. She had no clue either.

The stairwell doors were opened to immediately reveal some not so friendly faces, more hand mutants that had evidently made their way up from the crash. The group made short work of them, and as Hellen swung her cleaver through the flesh of an unfortunate, she heard the unmistakable sound of a Joel ready to fight.

It was the sound of his teeth all clicking together, almost excitedly, moving in the muscly jaw of his maw, before sprouting up through the raw flesh and adding to the noise, before he would spring forward suddenly, mindlessly, just wanting to bite.

Hellen could understand the feeling, the urge to destroy with her much smaller set, hidden under the paper. Her eyes tended to roll around with glee when blood was spilt. But she didn’t quite lose her mind, like he did. She knew Leigh could get confused after her transformation into the beast, but she would always remember. They didn’t have to snap her out of the trance Joel always seemed to be found in.

When all was said and done, Sam’s group was victorious. Leigh was busy counting the amount of mouths on one of her fallen foes, something about ‘her superior number’. Whatever, you learned not to question Leigh. She did as she pleased.

Hellen wiped the blood off on a clean spot of one of their shirts. Sam went about, checking on both of them, before turning to Joel. He didn’t realize the fight was over. He seldom did, in this state, tearing chunks away from the corpses. Sam would often fret that Joel was ingesting something toxic, or dangerous to his system. Hellen was more concerned he wouldn’t snap out of it.

Gingerly, Sam approached the child, no, thing. Joel was not himself in these moments. It looked at Sam, who held out a hand reassuringly. It cocked its head curiously, standing up, still in a tense pose. Hellen kept her hand on her cleaver. She’d use the blunt end if necessary.

“Sam…” She started, a warning. Joel usually was less on guard by this point. His breathing was noticeably uneven, scared. A cornered animal was the most dangerous. The teeth clicked. A few dropped onto the stairs, bloody.

“I know. Hey, Joel. It’s us. Fighting’s over now, we need you back with us bud.” Sam spoke soothingly, inching closer.

Joel just stared at the hand being offered, before holding his own up to it, and interlocking the fingers. That was the invitation Sam needed to step forward and lead Joel away, holding his hand.

By now, he was usually back to himself, whatever survival mode he would go into tucked away. He’d ask something among of the lines of ‘did we win?’, no awareness of his part in the matter, paired with his usual pained breathing.

He was silent, just staring forward. Hellen started talking to Sam, who was practically gnawing his bottom lip off with his concern. A small distraction.

“What do you think the ground floor will be like, if so many made it up here already?”

“I don’t want to think about that. Let me have my peaceful five seconds.”

Hellen listened to the laboured breathing of Joel for an extra flight of stairs.

“Not very peaceful with the mouthbreather.”

“...hhhhh…. H-Hey. I c-can’t ….hhhhhhh….. H-help it.”

“He speaks. Thought we lost you for a few seconds there buddy.” Sam sounded relieved.

“Being lost isn’t that …heh… bad.” Leigh said, a little offended.

“How bad ….hhhhhh…. Was it?”

“Just a little longer than usual. Nothing to be concerned about.” Hellen said. A few minutes, to be exact. Actually a great concern, because she didn’t know if they could afford a more confused Joel than the one they already had.

He was quiet for a few moments, though quiet for Joel was a little different compared to other people.

“You’re lying.”

“Oohhhh!” Leigh squealed with delight and poked Hellen’s arm painfully.

“You’re bad! …heh… Lying to a child? How …heh heh heh… awful!”

Hellen did what one was supposed to do with Leigh, ignore her.

“What happens, when you space out like that, Joel?” Hellen asked instead. He thought he just blanked out during fights, or shut his eyes, or something like that. He never remembered what he did. If they fought before dinner, he would be shocked sometimes to discover that he wasn’t hungry.

He shrugged.

“Don’t know. I’m just ….hhhhhh….. Not there anymore. Like….hhhhhh…. Blinking for too long.”

The door slammed just across from them as they reached the first floor. Of course. Sam let go of Joel’s hand, and held up his own in a countdown. On three, Leigh charged ahead, throwing the door open to reveal more of the lovely mutants who didn’t seem interested in conversation. She followed the stab happy woman’s example, and Sam was close behind.

There were less this time, and they were quickly handled. Most just stiffened with fear upon her presence, which made the whole slicing their ‘neck’ open much easier. There was a noticeable lack of teeth flying around in the fray. She realized that Joel wasn’t with them, and gave Sam a look. He managed to read it, despite the paper mask.

“I didn’t want to risk it. He was definitely more out of it today. I’m probably going to send him back.”

“Good choice.”

They checked their enemies for anything useful, only finding a bit of cash and a decent chain necklace that might be able to get traded in the future.

Joel wasn’t there when they opened the door. That was very alarming. In his more confused state, he could be seen as easy prey. He also always listened to whatever the adults said, regardless of who it was.

(Unless it was Leigh, suggesting a game that would not very discreetly give her a reason to be horrible. There, he at least knew to draw the line.)

But generally speaking, if Sam told him to stay, he would have stayed.

“Where-” Sam trailed off as a voice from above could be heard. They all froze as they recognized it. It was Sam. But Sam was right here.

“Come on Joel, everyone else is right up here. We took another way up.”

Hellen’s blood went cold. No. No. NO.

They all started sprinting up at the same time. She had greatly underestimated Sam’s speed. He tore ahead of them, desperately flying up the stairs to get to his kid before whatever that thing with his voice did. He screamed hoarsely,

“Joel! That’s not me! That’s not me!”

The only response was a door being shut. Hellen temporarily lost sight of Sam as he went ahead, but she caught up, just in time to see him go through the now open door of the new apartment. Then it slammed shut behind him, and Hellen felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach as she frantically tried the door. Locked.

She slammed her body against it. That trick had always worked with every other door here, outside of the barricaded ones. Not even a groan of the wood. Frustrated, she slammed her fist against the door. Behind her, she heard Leigh go,

“I’ll go ….heh… get the janitor.”

Hellen nodded.

You knew it was bad when even Leigh was taking this seriously.

Chapter Text

Joel was trying very hard.

It was a little difficult to remember.

He knew where the memories used to be, where they should be.

But the teeth were there instead.

The teeth were everywhere they shouldn’t be, crowding around, pushing, grating, clicking against each other in his mind, shoving everything else to the side.

It hurt when they grew.

It hurt when they fell.

It just hurt.

All the time.

It was hard not to focus on that hurt right now.

Not-Sam had found him in that stairwell.

Joel really should have been able to tell them apart.

It was his fault for not realizing Sam was Not Sam.

It was usually his fault anyways.

He looked around the room a bit warily.

Not-Sam had melted into some awful fleshy goo shortly after dragging Joel in there.

Then the door had shut.

It was very dark.

He hated the dark.

He really wished he had Fuzzy with him.

He didn’t know what he would do if he was in danger.

He knew he must do something, in those moments where everything goes blank and the hurt and clicking overtakes him completely.

But he couldn’t rely on that now.

There was a shuffling behind him.

Something he could hear even over his own breathing.

It was Sam.

Or Not Sam.

He couldn’t tell.

Had Sam’s eyes always glowed like that?

He couldn’t remember.

He risked it.

Sam was nice.

He took a gasp of air before asking cautiously,

“Sam? Is that …..hhhhhh….. You?”

Sam was quiet.

He looked mad.

“Why did you run off like that Joel?”

He sounded mad.

Joel took an uneasy step back.

Sam took three more forward.

“Answer me you little shit. Why did you run off like that? Don’t you care about the rest of us?”

Was this Not Sam?

But Not Sam knew why Joel had left.

And Sam had sounded scary when he yelled up the stairway.

So this had to be Sam.

Joel felt sick.

His heart was thudding in his ears, and his breathing picked up like always did when he got scared.

“I …hhhh…. Di-didn’t …hhhhh… Mean to ….hhhhh….”

Sam was far too close now.

Joel tried to back up, but his head hit the wall.

“You didn’t think, you mean. You’re honestly so fucking stupid sometimes, I don’t know why I ever brought you with me in the first place. You can’t even remember why you came up here in the first place, can you?”

Sam was very mad.

If Joel could still cry, he was certain he would be. That same heavy feeling was in his chest, but it couldn’t escape now.

He could only gasp pathetically through the cavity in face.

The teeth shifted under his skin, puncturing through to the surface, jutting out painfully, and clattering to the floor.

“I’m …..hhhhhh….. Sorry, I’m …..hhhhhh….. Sorry I didn’t-”

He wasn’t prepared for the blow to his neck, knocking him squarely on the ground.

More teeth fell and he curled on himself, shaking.

What had he done wrong?

Why was Sam so mad at him?

Then there was a kick.

In his ribs.

Another.

His head.

His head again.

And again.
He felt the teeth click.

No.

NO.

This was Sam.

He couldn’t bite Sam.

He couldn’t do it.

He didn’t know what happened when he let the clicking overtake his mind, but he knew it was bad.

And he didn’t want to hurt Sam.

Even though it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

But things always hurt, didn’t they?

Especially now.

He just had to suck it up.

…

The thing that looked like Joel had immediately collapsed into a nasty pile of goo after Sam had entered, then the door disappeared behind him, taking the light with it. He felt the dark wall frantically. No. No. NO. He was trapped. No, they were trapped. Joel was in here too.

Sam scanned the room fruitlessly. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. He dug through his bag, fingers brushing against cold metal. A flashlight. Thank goodness he had it. He couldn’t turn it on fast enough, swinging the beam around the room, noting the pale pink walls and floor, seemingly made of the same material.

There was a noise behind him.
“Joel.” Sam was relieved to see him standing there. Unless… the thing he had thought was Joel before had melted. This could be that.

The thing-Sam-couldn’t-decide-if-it-was-Joel-or-not got a little closer, and Sam noticed blood, dripping down from an injury on his side.

“Why do you bring me with you? ….hhhhhh…. I’m not safe with you …hhhhh… None of us are.”

It almost fooled Sam. But Joel wouldn’t talk like that. He’d sooner blame himself for something than dare point a finger at the authority figure.

Sam wished for the millionth time that he still had his other arm, so he could grab a knife or something, along with the flashlight. He would not be risking a scuffle in the dark.

“Who are you, really? I know you’re not Joel.”

He tried being polite first, that usually kept his head on his shoulders.

‘Joel’ stopped short, and the breathing noticeably stopped as well.

“How did you know?” it still used his voice, but the tone was dead, and it was just not him. Sam shuddered and clutched the flashlight harder.

“I know him. Who are you?”

“Your new neighbor.”

The skin shifted slightly in the beam, and Sam repressed the urge to just straight up attack.

“Where is Joel? The real one?”

‘Joel’ simply clicked his teeth together. That was the only warning Sam had before it lunged, and he had to shut his eyes as he struck. He knew it wasn’t Joel. But it looked like him, and Sam couldn’t force himself to look as he made contact. It hit the floor and he was on top of it just as quickly, striking relentlessly with the flashlight.

The thing screeched horribly, but Sam continued to beat the writing form, eyes shut, muttering,

“It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s not him.”

When the screeching stopped, he risked cracking an eye open. Its head had a considerable dent in it, and black ooze was leaking out of the wound. At some point, the thing had shifted, skin twisting into another creature, pale and spindly, but some of its features had remained Joel’s, it appeared to be stuck between forms.

It had been incredibly weak, only a couple blows and it was dead. Perhaps that was why it changed to look like a friend, it knew that a lowered guard was its best shot at victory. Sam wiped the blood of the flashlight handle off on his shirt. He still needed to find Joel, the real one. There was a doorway on the other side.

He ran to check, it being the only option. Shining the light revealed an awful scene, himself, over Joel, kicking at him, swearing, saying things that Sam would never say to the kid. Why wasn’t he fighting back? Sam didn’t have time to think about it. He just had to stop himself.

The other Sam saw him coming, and ran for it, disappearing into a new doorway that swiftly shut behind him. Actually, all of the exits had shut. Damn it.

Whatever. This had to be Joel. He heard the breathing, ragged and painful. The kid got up to his knees, and Sam sighed in relief. He could move at least. He seemed a little aware.

“Joel? Is it you?”

Joel whimpered, and flinched away from Sam’s voice.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry I ….hhhhhh….. I can’t remember. I-I’ll try b-bett- ….hhhhh…. Better.”

That was Joel.

“I’m the real Sam. That thing wasn’t me. Are you okay?” Sam knelt to Joel’s level, while keeping an eye towards the darker corners of the room. Had it gotten smaller since he went in?

Joel didn’t answer. He just stared at Sam. At least, it was the closest thing to staring one could manage without any visible eyes.

“Y-Yeah. Where …hhhhh… is Sophie? Wasn’t she ….hhhhhh…. With us?” He craned his head to look behind a bewildered Sam. What? What was he- He remembered suddenly, a blackout that had taken place, and the consequential search for the cause. Sophie had come with them that time. But that had been a few days ago.

“No, she’s not here. We left her back at home, in the apartment, remember?” Sam explained calmly. Joel started to get up, and Sam almost let him, then the light glistened off of something dark, leaking from the back of his head.

“Joel, I need you to sit down for me. Right now.” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice as Joel complied. Sam very gently set the flashlight on the floor, at an angle so he could see Joel relatively well, and directed Joel to move so he could examine the spot.

“Does your head hurt?”

“It always hurts. I can ….hhhhh… feel them growing inside. They …hhhhhh…. Never stop.”

He tried to put his hand to his head, but Sam shook his head and said soothingly, trying to hide his fear,

“No, no, Joel, please don’t mess with it. I… I think I have some gauze. Just stay still. I don’t know when we’ll get out of here.”

Sam went through his bag. He had to have some bandages in here, something, to fight the flow of blood. It pissed him off, and terrified him that Joel was in such a condition, at the hands of something that had used Sam’s face. As he searched, he heard Joel mutter a bit ditzily,

“Do you think they’ll still let me ….hhhhh… play the game when we get back?”

Sam found the bandages. He thought they were over the school confusion part.

“Depends on how you’re feeling I bet. But I don’t think we’re having school anytime soon. Joel, can you tell me things you remember right now? Like names? I’m going to put some gauze on this while you do.”

As he did his best with slowing the blood flow, and wishing Papineau was here, (he was much better with this) he heard Joel start to try and recall.

“What kind of ….hhhhh… names? You’re Sam. There’s Fuzzy …hhhhh…. Rat. Ben. Uhh… Sophie ….hhhhh….”

Not a great sign he mentioned his very dead brother, who was beginning to remind Sam of what Joel had avoided. Or what they thought had been avoided. The thing, not quite alive or dead, left on that floor, army soldier gripped in a toothy hand, unaware of the world around him.

“Anyone else?” Sam encouraged.

“There’s…. Hellen. And …..hhhhh…. The scary woman.”

“Leigh.”

“Leigh.” Joel repeated, and then his voice pitched into worry.

“Is it bad I couldn’t ….hhhhh…. Remember that?”

“It’s okay. Is there anyone else you can think of?”

Joel was quiet.

“Hellen?”

Sam bit his lip. That was bad.

“Good job bud.” He said softly, and joined Joel in sitting with his back to the wall. The flashlight flickered. Sam couldn’t cry. Not in front of Joel. Though he very much wanted to.

All he heard for a while was the unsteady breathing. For a second, it went out of cadence, and Sam lurched forward, stomach twisting.

“Joel?”

His shadowy maw turned to face Sam. He asked with a confused helplessness,

“Where are we?”

Sam stared out at the dark room. Yep. The walls were definitely getting closer. And no entry way had appeared yet, or that awful other Sam.

“I don’t actually know. Hellen will try to get us out though. We won’t be stuck in here forever.”

He had no idea what was going on outside of these walls right now. There was a good chance that Leigh would seize the opportunity of his absence to pick a fight with one of the others. Or Hellen might have given up. Papineau might try to retrieve his ‘apprentice’, but how long would he realistically try before giving up?

“Are ….hhhhhh…. You lying? To make it ….hhhhhh… better?”

Sam faltered. Joel had clocked him, and he wasn’t going to gaslight the kid any further.

“I don’t want to scare you. But things aren’t looking great. Whatever that thing was… I think we’ll have to kill it if we want to get out, but it hasn’t shown its face yet.”

“He was mean.” Joel whispered. “He said really mean things.”

“What kind of mean things?” Sam was morbidly curious. He had heard some of the dialogue, but not much. Next to him, Joel shifted a little bit away, bringing his knees to his chest.

“It was you. And you were ….hhhhhh…. Mad at me. Because I can’t ….hhhhhh… remember. I’m trying. I-”

He took a wretched gasp for air, like a dying fish.

“I’m sorry I can’t. I can try to be …hhhhhh… better. I-”

“I’m not mad at you, Joel. That thing was lying to you. You want to take some deep breaths with me?” Sam was patient as he inhaled and exhaled dramatically, in an example of what the kid should try and do.

Finally, his breathing returned to normal, and there was a bit more ‘silence’. It only got broken when the flashlight flickered heavily, before outright dying. Damn it.

Sam reached over and grabbed the stupid thing, fiddling with it the best he could, hoping it was just the batteries out of alignment. It was not. He felt Joel scoot close to him, and clutch his arm.

“Mom? Is that you?” He was trembling. He hated the dark. There had been a few nights in Sam’s bed before he had stolen a nightlight from an apartment. Sam winced a bit at the use of the word ‘mom’. He had killed her. He had killed his dad too. He couldn’t explain that to Joel right now. Not again.

“It’s Sam.” He reminded the kid, very gently.

“Oh… Do I ….hhhhhh…. Know you?” He lessened his death grip on the shirt, but still hung close to the man, too scared to completely abandon the only safe thing in the room. Sam shut his eyes. There was no difference in his surroundings.

“I’m your neighbor.” It was the truth. Or had been, anyways.

“Have you seen my mom? Or my dad? Where are we?”

Sam felt as if he were a kid again, meeting a great grandparent he had seen before, talked with in clarity, only for them to forget he even existed. Having to explain to them, every five minutes, that he was their great grandchild, and seeing their faces light up with a little bit of joy, before the confusion would seep in, and they would forget he was even in the room. It was awful to watch an old person lose their sense of who they once were. It was worse when it was a child.

“They’re coming soon. It’ll be okay Joel.”

“How do you …hhhh… know my name? Have you seen Ben?”

Joel had been there when Benjamin had died. Even then, he didn’t understand what had happened to his baby brother.

“I saw him a bit ago. We played an army game with toy soldiers.”

There was a wheezy sort of dying sound that had scared Sam the first time he heard it. He now knew it was just Joel laughing.

“He doesn’t like the …hhhhh… comms guy very much.”

“Not at all. What kind of games do you like to play Joel?” He already knew the answer. Super Jumplad 1. It turns out that Joel didn’t know himself.

“I… don’t know. …..hhhhh….. I can’t think of any right now.”

There was a sickly twisting in Sam’s gut. He was deteriorating fast. He kept flashing back to Benjamin. It had been a supposed miracle that Joel hadn’t followed in his brother’s footsteps. Perhaps the infection had just been biding its time.

“That’s okay. I like to play Super Jumplad 1.” It wasn’t his favorite, but for right now, it could be.

“I think… …hhhhh… I think I …hhhhh… like that one.” Joel sidled a bit closer, and leaned his head on Sam’s shoulder. Only a couple of teeth prickled through the fabric. His breathing was getting worse. Sam didn’t want to overtax him, so he decided to keep quiet.

Silently, he was hoping this was some terrible dream. Some hallucination. He couldn’t lose Joel. Not to this stupid monster. Not to himself. Joel had made it this far, it was cruel to end it now.

He wasn’t religious, but he found himself praying, that something out there could hear him, and they could get out of this. That Joel would be alright if nothing else. That he wouldn’t die in this stupid cold dark room, forgetting who he was.

The kid was still beside him, the only thing keeping Sam sane was the reassurance of his throaty inhales and exhales. Suddenly, Joel took a sharper, shuddering breath, getting closer and he was now practically on Sam’s lap, clutching to his chest and hiding his head.

“Dad ….hhhhh… I’m s-scared. I know ….hhhhh… I’m supposed to be too big to …hhhhh… be held, b-but can ….hhhhh…. I do it this one time?”

Sam’s heart clenched. Clint was dead. Sam had killed him. The child was curling up to his father’s murderer, begging for comfort. Sam very cautiously put his arm out, closing it on the child’s back, and he seemed to calm down, and settle into a slightly more comfortable position.

He wasn’t dad. He did not deserve that title, even if it had been given by mistake. Sam wanted to scream and bash his head open on the wall. All of this was wrong. He shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be here.

Joel should be safe, at home, with his real family, and not some idiot who thought bringing a damn eight year old on a dangerous mission was a good idea. Not someone who could barely take care of themselves before all of this started. Not someone who had no idea how to hold a child and do that stupidly reassuringly motherly back rub that always seemed to make things better.

Joel deserved better than Sam. And he had better than Sam. Then Sam had taken it away, and all Joel had left was a one armed fool who could only sit here, and hold the child with such indescribable awkwardness, it should be criminal.

Even then, as they sat there, for who knows how long, Sam found himself starting to get tired. The other version hadn’t shown itself. There had been no visible exits. Joel shifted on Sam’s lap and wrapped his arms around the man’s torso, resting the side of his head on his available shoulder.

“Night dad.” He mumbled. His breathing slipped into an actual rhythm this time. Slow, and calm. Asleep. Unaware.

Sam just kept holding him, knowing that with each chest fall and rise, Joel was at least alive. That he could still amend for his mistakes until then.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep. Only when he woke up.

This was pretty bad. They could’ve died if that Sam mockery came back.

Joel was still sleeping. Sam tried to gently tap his back.

“We need to get up. I don’t know how long we’ve been here for.”

Joel didn’t move.

Sam noticed that his hand felt sticky and cold for some reason. A bit of his wrist, too.

The room smelled like metal.

The room was also quiet.

No breathing.

He lurched up, holding Joel’s back as he laid the kid on the ground.

He checked for a pulse at his wrist, then his neck, then finally, at his chest.

Nothing.

The body was cold.

Far too cold for anything alive.

Sam’s breathing was becoming hitched as he realized.

“No. No. No. No, Joel…”

It was a desperate moan of despair that escaped him.

His chest shook with the effort of getting air into his lungs.

“Joel, I’m so sorry. This is…”
Sam ran a bloody hand through his hair, because what else could it be?

“This is my fault. Oh God, this is all my fault.”

He felt so, so sick. Because this was on him. He should have made Joel stay at home. He never should have brought the kid with them.

Now he was dead.

Sam allowed himself to cry now.

No one to hold the tears back for.

Chapter Text

There was a hole inside of him now, gaping and wide and awful, a rotting cavity that only grew more oppressive as he wept. He held the corpse close to him, in some desperate, dead hope that Joel would just wake up.

This had to be a lie. He’d accept the lie, accept some cruel joke, if it meant this could be taken back. That he wasn’t dead.

The scar on his chest, hidden by his shirt, was burning now. It seemed to hurt more than it did when Joel had first bit him, in that confused and scared state.

He was glad there was no light in the room. He didn’t want to see the lifeless thing he held in his hand, close to his heart. It would be undeniable then. In the darkness, it was easier to lie to yourself about these things.

He deserved to die in this room. Maybe he would. Maybe they had given up on him and Joel. They probably did. He wasn’t a good person. Not worth saving. Hellen would do a much better job at taking care of Sophie and Rat. Look at where Joel ended up because of him.

Sam had no idea what he was doing. It was obvious by the outcome here. Gingerly, he lay Joel down, wishing to hell and heaven that he could hear that awful struggling breath one more time. But the room was silent.

As a tomb.

It was stifling.

Sam hadn’t known peace since this all started. He had picked up Joel day two, and Leigh shortly afterwards. He had been surrounded by chaos, and had hated every second of it. Or he thought he did.

In its absence, he craved it again.

He just wanted noise right now, something that wasn’t his own heart or ragged breathing and wretched sobs. His fingers closed around the flashlight, useless object now, and he threw it violently away. It hit the walls with a cacophonous clang and clattering to the ground.

They were even closer now. Were they to crush them? That was the point of it? Just to be destroyed?

Sam grit his teeth. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let them get the satisfaction of winning like this. No doubt when they were crushed, that thing would return, wearing his face, and eat the crushed meat, lick the blood off of the walls, crunch on the pointy bones.

It was almost fitting that the thing that had killed Joel was pretending to be Sam. It might as well be him. This was his fault to begin with.

He deserved to die. He wasn’t getting out of here. The others didn’t deserve a person like him.

They deserved better.

He rooted through his bag.

He knew it was in there.

He gripped the knife blade tightly.

Wrists were too easy.

Too much could go wrong.

His heart, he decided.

If you took it out, it was guaranteed, right?

The point had barely touched his skin when a low cackle went through the room.

He saw a pair of glowing eyes.

His eyes.

That demon, that thing, was back, presumably to gloat, or watch the show, or do whatever evil skin stealing monsters did.

It would not get away this time.

Sam lunged for it, yelling incoherently not caring what he hit so long as it was that thing.

He heard his own voice grunt in pain, in surprise, in anger, coming from that thing.

From him.

Limbs struck out at him, scratching, hurting, striking.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t know.

He couldn’t tell them apart.

They had both killed Joel.

They both deserved to die.

When he could see his own face before him, bloodied and bruised and very, very dead, he didn’t question it.

He just kept stabbing, hatred driving his actions, making his throat raw with the rage he was pouring out in an awful scream.

He deserved this.

He drew the knife towards his own chest, determined.

He had killed himself just now, all he had to do was do it again, right?

But something heavy hit his hand, knocking the blade away.

He turned furiously, only to see Hellen standing there, with Papineau.

“Such a terrible, terrible mess.” the janitor muttered sadly, staring behind Sam, towards Joel. Hellen just knelt to where Sam was, shaking with rage and hatred and grief, too overwhelmed to really process what was going on. The room was large again. An entryway out gave them light.

“Pull yourself together. Sophie needs you. Rat needs you. We all need you, Sam.”

She was such a cold, heartless bitch.

“He’s dead Hellen. It was my fault.” he groaned, clutching his hair, the pain being the only thing he could be certain of right now.

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. But you’re going to lose everyone else if you can’t stand up right now, and walk out of here.”

He glared at her. How could she not care? How could she just stand there, telling him this in such a cruel, cold voice?

Papineau walked over to them, He offered a hand to Sam, who reluctantly took it. Now that he was closer, he could see watering in the corner of the man’s eyes.

“We… We can’t leave him here.” Sam found himself saying hoarsely. Not with the other Sam, that other thing, with his killer. Not in the dark.

Wordlessly, Hellen went to the prone figure on the ground, and very gently, unexpectedly for someone of her nature and size, cradled him in her arms. Sam still couldn’t look as she rose with his corpse.

“Where should we take him?” Papineau asked grimly.

Sam left the awful room, unable to word what he had in mind. They followed, silently. He saw the door for 32 ahead. Clint’s body was still out here.

How many times had he walked past it? Had Joel walked past it and said nothing?

Joel had thought Sam was this man when he died. Clint deserved a better fate than this. Sam picked the man up from under one arm, all he could really do, and dragged him into apartment 32. The entire room smelled of rot. The other members of the family.

Hellen walked in, and followed Sam’s direction to where Ben was.

A reunion at last.

There were glowing stars in this room, plastered to the ceiling.

He wouldn’t be left in the dark.

She laid him down tenderly on the floor next to what had once been his baby brother. He looked so small there. Fragile.

He could see now what had really killed him. The teeth, the stupid teeth he had felt growing in his head had finally made themselves known. They sprouted up through the bandages, poking through the gauze and hair, erupting out of whatever surface on his head they could manage, splitting the skull in half, allowing the gray matter to be seen.

Or what remained of it. It was mostly teeth in there. No wonder he couldn’t remember anything. Sam just hoped he could remember now, wherever he was.

He hoped his real dad, his real mom, his real parents, were there.

Maybe he was playing army with Ben as they spoke.

Papineau was gone for a short time. When he returned, he carried two small things in his meaty hand.

He tucked them both under Joel’s arm.

Fuzzy.

And a letter, Sophie’s disorganized scrawl clearly visible.

(Some of the ink was smudged, as if she had been crying.)

Hellen took a bloodied quilt from the child’s bed, and gently draped the astronaut print over the still form.

He looked like he was sleeping now.

There were damp blotches on her paper mask as they left.