Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A white hot light was all 10k could see. He had neglected to tell Doc or Addy that his vision had gone to shit right about the time he'd been helped outside to the vehicle that would take him and Murphy to the submarine. He'd never been on a submarine before, he mused as he felt his blood continue to seep out of his body and onto the rag he weakly held down on his stomach. Charlie had sung a verse to a song about one before, of a yellow submarine in a land filled with them. 10k tried to remember some of the words, but frankly it was impressive he'd managed to recall the submarine was yellow.

He could still hear, but that was about to fail just like his vision, considering he only heard every couple of words. “-okay, kid-real surgeon-you up.” 10k winced as another burst of pain raced through him, nodding to Doc's voice so the older man wouldn't worry about him.

Another voice said something that Doc responded to with a worried tone, but now 10k couldn't even make out the words they were saying. It was like they were speaking a made up language.

Alright so his hearing was good as gone.

His touch seemed the next to go. After the rather sharp landing in the truck, his entire body had started to buzz as it went numb, and he was finding it difficult to apply pressure to his gunshot wound. He felt Doc's familiar hand briefly rest against his head, and he forced what he hoped was a weak smile.

If his touch was going, that left him with what?

Taste. He could still taste. There was a coppery taste in his mouth, and the lingering flavor of the tea he'd had in Aunty's rest stop. He'd never had tea before. They'd found it before, but he'd never been interested in trying. Addy claimed it was a useful medical tool, and Doc had immediately agreed (before adding a personal story about the time he'd drank an entire gallon of peppermint tea while tripping on acid), but 10k didn't really think it's “healing properties” were doing much for the hole in his stomach.

What was the last one? There were five senses, what was he missing?

Smell.

Mostly, he just smelled blood. And the faint smell of gasoline, and Doc's Z-Weed.

There was a low rumble beneath him, and he jolted as the four-wheeler started to move. A hand placed on his chest to steady him, but he knew it wasn't any of his people. It was too…gentle. No one was gentle with 10k except Cassandra, and she was…well she wasn't being sweet to 10k unless he was about to join her wherever people go after they're mercied. He didn’t like gentle. He liked a little bit of pressure. It made him feel like…like they wouldn't leave him.

They screeched to a stop, and 10k felt what was definitely Murphy's hands holding down on his shoulders so that he wouldn't be jostled too badly. His hands pulled away, and two more sets replaced them, one pair sliding under his arms, and the other grabbing his legs. The buzzing continued to spread. 10k could smell the salt of the ocean.

The hands lifted him up, carried him a few paces, then laid him back down. The sound of the waves blocked out the gibberish talking happening over them, and 10k drifted asleep to the soothing lull of the ocean as whatever he was on started to move.

He startled awake as he was lifted up again, and carried around more. The noise completely disappeared, just like his vision, replaced with a low buzzing noise that he wasn't sure was real or not.

He was laid down-or rather dropped-onto a hard surface that sent more pain rushing through him.

The hands were on him again, and just when the sensation of touch started to drift away with his sight and hearing, someone dug their fingers inside of him and the numbness was chased away. He screamed, bucking off the table, limbs flailing wildly. He bit down on his tongue at the pain, more blood filling his mouth as he clenched his jaw and ground his teeth together in an attempt to fight off the pain. Sharp hands grabbed him and forced him to stay still, and the freezing cold of something metal slipped inside him, moving around in his guts for the bullet still inside him.

His eyes rolled back into his head, and every sense disappeared as he passed out.

The blaring of alarms woke him up. So his hearing was at least partially back. And now, instead of seeing all white, his vision was black and flashing red. It felt like he was inside a furnace, his skin sweaty despite the fact he was no longer wearing his shirt. Slowly, he managed to sit up, his vision slowly returning to him along with his hearing. He pushed himself off the table and grabbed the lump of dark fabric he was almost positive was his shirt, hand pressed against his side. He clumsily moved to the door and peered out into the narrow hallway, but didn't see any sign of doctors or guards.

But from far away he could hear Murphy. And, seeing no other option, he followed the sound, hoping it lead him to a way out of the sub, and back to Doc, Warren, and Addy. He'd even be happy to see Vasquez, and he and 10k had said maybe 100 words between them since they met.

His vision spun as he stumbled down the hall, using the wall so he wouldn't completely fall.

He felt like he was going to vomit.

Head whirling, he caught sight of someone in a white lab coat, then dropped to the floor in another dead faint.

Sunlight burned at 10k's eyes when he woke up again. He winced, covering his face with his hand. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his whole body ached like he'd run a marathon. Rubbing at his eyes, he slowly pulled his hands away until his eyes adjusted to all the light. He was in a small raft, but it wasn't bobbing on the ocean. A stabbing pain shot through his side, and he let out a low groan of pain, biting his lip until it the sharp ache subsided.

A voice broke the air, Murphy's. “The clock hates us people! Let's move!” He heard the older man clap his hands together, then expectant silence.

Slowly, he sat up, looking over at Murphy in silent confusion. Why was he ordering Dr. Merch and the others around? And why had they left the sub? He remembered the alarms, but had no memory of leaving the submarine. Now, he could only see three guards, a woman in a lab coat who must be Dr. Merch, and a finely dressed man who seemed to be the captain, save for Murphy wearing his hat. Surely the crew of the submarine had to have been bigger than that. Where had they all gone?

He moved again. to sit on the side of the raft, slipping his hand under his shirt to feel the gauze of bandages wrapped around where he'd been shot. Oddly, the bandages were crisp and white, and not soaked with blood. Surely even after whatever had been done to him on the sub, stitches or whatever other kinds of surgery there was for gunshots, there’d at least be some blood, especially on the first bandages. He looked up at Murphy again, still feeling dazed and definitely still confused. “What happened? Where is everybody?”

“This way kid.” Murphy gave a slight tilt of the head. “Let's go.”

10k stood up, absentmindedly grabbing a bag as he jumped off the raft and onto the sand. “We gotta find Doc. And Addy, and Warren.”

“I already said thanks.” Murphy said plainly. “We're going our own way now.”

“No, we kept you alive all the way to California.” 10k argued, slinging the duffel over his shoulder. Murphy turned to walk away, 10k shouting after him, “Where are you going‽”

Murphy stopped, and answered without turning to look at him. “To start a new world.”

He walked to the four-wheeler, giving a whistle and a finger movement that usually signalled wrapping things up to leave. 10k stormed up to it as the three guards and the man got onto the other four-wheelers, leaving Dr. Merch alone in the four-wheeler Murphy was driving.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Murphy.” He said. When Murphy didn’t respond, he angrily threw the duffel bag into the bed of the four-wheeler like a kid having a tantrum, and sat down next to it. That gave him pause, and he stared down at his legs like they had betrayed him. The four-wheeler started up with a jolt as Murphy pressed down on the pedal to quickly, kicking up sand as it sped off. The three four-wheelers made easy work of the dirt terrain, 10k having to grab onto the rails so he wouldn’t fly off the back. Murphy apparently drove worse than Warren, and worse than 10k. Which said a lot, considering the…incidents, that usually happened when 10k drove anything bigger than a dirtbike.

The three drivers pulled to a sharp stop in an open field, the two four-wheelers in front popping their wheels on something simultaneously.

The men climbed off to inspect the damages, Murphy getting out of the four-wheeler and slamming the door to signal his impatience. Dr. Merch got out after him, 10k jumping down from the back.

A noise made 10k whip around, holding up his gun to look through the scope and see who was coming. It didn’t sound like Warren and the others, but it also didn’t quite sound like the moaning of zombies. Someone came over one of the hills, and 10k fired off a shot, watching his body tumble down until it hit the bottom.

Hearing more of the noises from another direction, he turned and raised his gun again, using it to point so the others would see what was coming. “There.” The guards turned to look, the group watching as three more people came running down from the hills. They were dressed strangely, like cavemen, and carried weapons to match the time period, made from bone.

“Zombies carrying weapons?” Dr. Merch questioned, the absurdity obvious in her voice. One of the zombies whacked another, knocking them down to the dirt, but he scrambled back to his legs and ran with a limp.

Great. Just what the apocalypse needs. More zombie variants.

Murphy raised his hands in his typical zombie messiah fashion, but the three didn’t stop their steady pursuit.

The four men grabbed their guns and took aim, just as Murphy dropped his arms. 10k raised his sniper higher. “Those aren’t Zs.” Murphy said lowly. “Back in the vehicle.” He stepped backwards until he could pull open the door to the four-wheeler, Dr. Merch getting in just as fast.

One of the…things, whatever they were, raised the hand that held his weapon, and hurled it threw the air. It hit the finely dressed man with a sickening crunch, tearing halfway through his skull before getting stuck. Murphy took off his sunglasses in shock, watching as another one of the guards was ambushed, his gun firing as the creature hit him with a club like weapon. The third creature, the one who’d taken the slash to the leg, beat down on another one of the guards with his fists, but it did little considering the protective helmet the man wore.

Murphy looked to 10k. “Kill ‘em.” He demanded.

10k fired off three shots, each one hitting dead center on the creature’s foreheads and sending them to the ground, dead. If he hadn’t killed them, they would have killed Murphy or Dr. Merch, and then how would the mission continue? He’d have to keep the mission going by himself until he found Roberta.

Murphy and Dr. Merch got out of the four-wheeler again as 10k slowly moved towards the bodies, rifle raised slightly in case somehow, something hadn’t died. The two guards that had survived the attack slowly pushed themselves up, looking up at Murphy.

“You two will have to do better.” He chided.

“The apocalypse has gotten worse.” Dr. Merch said miserably, shifting her weight from side to side.

“Starvation and killings all that’s left.” Murphy noted, looking impassively at the carnage. “Last stop for humanity, everybody off.”

The sight of the bone-made weapon in the finely dressed man’s head made Dr. Merch start to hyperventilate, a high pitched panicked breathing escaping her. 10k gathered that she’d somehow managed to stay relatively sheltered throughout the apocalypse. This was nothing. This was Tuesday-If Tuesdays were still a thing.

She placed a hand on her chest as she tried to control herself, and Murphy turned, sternly grabbing her shoulders. He had to bend down, considering Dr. Merch was shorter than 10k.

“Relax.” He said calmly, and she did, letting out one last soft sigh. “We have work to do.” He reminded.

The group looked up at the sky as a large jet passed overhead. It had been years since 10k had seen one, save for the little one that had belonged to the pilot Amelia, and he stared at it like a kid meeting Santa Claus.

“Time to go.” Murphy said, interrupting 10k’s gawking. The four adults moved back to the four-wheeler, 10k still frozen in awe. “10k. Get in!”

“There’s an airplane!” 10k said in shock. “That must be the rest of the CDC, right‽ Maybe they picked up Doc and Warren and Addy and-”

“10k.” Murphy cut off his rambling with a sharp word. “Get in. It ain’t the CDC. And no matter who it is, or who they “picked up”, we’re not going.”

“No!” 10k protested, but just like before he moved back to the four-wheeler and climbed onto the bed. He furrowed his brows, staring down at his legs again as Murphy took off.

The gunshot wound had to be messing with his head.

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Chapter Text

The second Murphy stopped the four-wheeler again, 10k leapt from the bed and took off in a run for the woods. Screw handling the mission on his own, he felt…strange. He’d find Warren, then they’d go back for Murphy.

He ran through the woods with little direction in mind. Being passed out on the submarine hadn’t helped his sense of direction. He had no clue where he was in relation to Aunty’s rest stop, besides the fact he was still in California. Hopefully Warren and the others had stayed close.

Spotting a break in the woods up ahead he sped up, hoping to see the little cafe and his friends waiting for him outside. Instead, he came face to face with Murphy, who was waiting calmly outside the four-wheeler like he’d expected 10k to come back. And 10k was sure he hadn’t been running in a big circle, so how-?

“What’s happening?” He asked dumbly, sounding more his age then he had since his pa had died. “I don’t understand.”

Murphy nodded to the vehicle. “Get in.” He said, and turned to get back into the driver’s seat. When 10k stayed still in a dumbfounded shock, he added a brief, “We need to keep moving. Further we get away from the humans the better.”

10k slowly walked to the four-wheeler, but stopped and turned at the sound of trees rustling. Whatever was in the forest, what had been only paces behind him, it was big enough to make the trees shake. Was this some kind of weird fever dream? Was he still on the submarine?

“What is that?” Dr. Merch asked worriedly as it got closer. 10k could hear the typical zombie growling, so whatever it was, at least it wasn’t what had killed the three men earlier.

“10k.” Murphy said, and 10k raised his gun. Murphy might be able to walk through a horde of zombies like he was a part of the crowd, but he sure couldn’t stop an entire horde from ripping 10k or the others apart. 10k really hoped that the two remaining guards had improved their marksmanship since the last time he’d seen them firing guns.

A giant ball of zombies rolled out of the forest, taking down two smaller trees as they went. It growled and moaned like one singular zombie, teeth gnashing hungrily as it continued to slowly move.

“What is it?” 10k asked in disgust.

Murphy had taken off his captain’s hat, and he stopped next to 10k with a stare like he’d seen the end of days all over again. “Zombies eating zombies.” Two of the zombies fell from the balled hoard, and immediately started chewing on each other, quickly being left behind.

“Why?” Dr. Merch asked incredulously.

Murphy sighed. “They’re starving.” He stated plainly. 10k wondered if he could feel it. If he could feel zombie’s pain, could he feel their hunger? The twisting of a hundred empty stomachs, unable to find food but unable to starve to death? “Not enough humans left to eat.”

“Can't watch.”

“Don’t turn away.” Murphy demanded immediately, Dr. Merch continuing to stare at the amalgamation of arms and legs moving in a tireless search for any sustenance. “Face the future.” The ball of zombies finally moved out of sight, disappearing back into the woods, save for the two that had been abandoned. “Without me, this is how the world ends.” Murphy said plainly. “No humans, just starving Zs.”

10k wandered closer to the two zombies while Dr. Merch and Murphy continued to talk. They were so enthralled with eating each other, with the brief release of finding food, rotten though it may be, they had somehow not noticed 10k. He got closer still. Any other zombie would have noticed him by now, distracted or not. Was there a new type of zombie? Had these evolved to only eat each other, and ignore humans as an unreliable food source?

“Cheer up, 10k.” Murphy said suddenly, snapping the teen from his thoughts. He, rather stupidly, turned away from the zombies to look back at him. You were never supposed to take your eyes off zombies that could lunge at any second. “Put our brothers out of my misery.” Murphy ordered.

10k side eyed the man, incredulous. That was the weirdest thing he’d heard Murphy say, at least in a while, and half of it didn’t even make sense to him. Well…more like none of it made sense to him. 10k wasn’t gifted in the English Language Arts part of school, it just confused him. His pa had more or less given up on it once 10k could read and write. And that was before the apocalypse, so surely his grade level was now far below average. Leave it to Murphy to somehow make someone feel stupid during the apocalypse.

But, regardless of the odd wording and the fact Murphy was still bossing him around, 10k never passed on a chance to rid the world of Zs. He turned back to the zombies, and walked until he was a single step away from them, far closer than he needed to be with his sniper. They ignored him as they continued to feast on each other, which made an odd feeling start to grow in 10k’s stomach.

“I give you mercy.” He forced out. The two zombies fell with the resounding two shots, and 10k noticed Murphy had walked up to stand next to him again. Murphy had an oddly smug look on his face, and it made 10k’s gut twist with anger. Something was wrong, but he didn’t know what, and the more he noticed it, the more strange he felt. “What?” He demanded.

Murphy’s smug look turned downright amused. “You’ve stopped counting.” He pointed out.

Murphy pivoted on his heel back to the four-wheeler, 10k rooted in place next to the corpses.

…I didn’t stop counting. I just…forgot, because I was shot. I have a headache, so I forgot. So two, and then the…the three whatever those things were. And then-was there anything else? …What number was I on? It was…five thousand, one hundred-

“10k!” Murphy called. “Get in, we don’t have all day!”

With one last uneasy look at the dead zombies, 10k returned to the four-wheeler. He’d figure out his number later. He tuned out Murphy and the others, laying down in the bed of the four-wheeler in an attempt to force himself to relax. He’d been shot, and had a bullet fished out of him with no anesthetic. He’d passed out twice. He was by all means very malnourished, and for whatever reason that tea was really disagreeing with him. His brain was understandably scrambled. If he just forced himself to rest for a bit, he’d feel better, and everything would go back to normal. There was nothing wrong, he was just all messed up inside from the injury.

Something sleek and black slowly drifted into his line of eyesight, and he looked up at it curiously. It was a floating box, way up in the sky. 10k was apparently breaking records with all the new, unusual things he’d seen today. The creatures, the jet, the zombie ball, and now this floating box made four.

“Now that’s what I like to see.” Murphy’s voice dripped with pleasure, and the four-wheeler sharply turned. “A present dropped from the sky, all for me. I really am God’s favourite.” 10k rolled his eyes. “Quit the sass, kid.” Murphy scolded, voice bemused. Just as 10k began to wonder how on earth Murphy could have possibly known, the man made him all the more confused by answering the unspoken question. “Adults always know when brats are giving attitude, kid.”

The apocalypse is getting way to familiar. We must have had this conversation a hundred times already, for him to already know what I was going to say. We do fight a lot. He doesn’t see much of me but…well, I wouldn’t call it sass, but-

The four-wheeler stopped outside off a grey industrial building, and everyone got out as Murphy surveyed it, eyes sharp. “You two, outside.” He said decidedly. “Guard the perimeter while we get everything out. Merch, stay with me. 10k, cover us.”

10k would have liked this plan a whole lot better if it was coming from Warren. It was weird hearing Murphy try to take charge.

Hurry up and get here, Warren.

The building was dark. There was limited light from the small amount of windows, and the hallways were crowded with debris and abandoned items. This seemed to have been a factory, but that’s all 10k could guess about what it’d been like pre-z. There were a few blue barrels labelled diesel, but 10k didn’t quite know what that meant. He was fairly certain that fuel didn’t need to be made. Didn’t it come from the ground?

“Don’t get distracted.” Murphy chided as they turned, and found where everything had landed, breaking a hole into the ceiling that allowed in much more light. The box-boxes it turns out-ranged in size, and there was a shiny car that looked like a futuristic tank. The trunk was open to reveal a small lab, and barrels of fuel.

“Lucky door number three, and you’ve won a new car.” Murphy whistled. “Load it up. Quick, before anything comes.” Murphy urged. “We’re ditching the four-wheeler.”

Dr. Merch started grabbing things to haul to the trunk, her movements choppy and abrupt. 10k moved to grab some of the stuff too, looking through it curiously. It looked like a bunch of high tech medical equipment.

This was all way too convenient. It had to be the CDC, sending Dr. Merch supplies, right?

“Kid.” Murphy snapped.

10k turned. Dr. Merch was struggling to lift a particularly heavy looking box. He glared at Murphy as he moved over and hefted it up for her. “You could help.” He reminded.

“I’m the saviour of humanity. I don’t have to do a thing.” Murphy argued. The two guards came swiftly into the room with their arms full of bags they’d taken from the four-wheeler. They set them down into the truck, then started grabbing the rest of the supplies that Merch couldn’t carry to do the same. 10k stared at them.

Why did they leave their posts? How would they know the right turns to get here, and how did they know to come and start moving everything?

“What did I just say about getting distracted?” Murphy sighed in exasperation.

A sound startled whatever snarky remark 10k was about to think of, two more of the…creature things running into the room with wild snarls. Dr. Merch screamed, one of the guards rushing to cover her, the other moving to stand in front of Murphy like a shield. Right. Because standing around is so helpful. A whole three seconds of protection before you’re dead on the floor and the things are tearing into the person behind you. Well…maybe not. 10k didn’t really know if these things ate humans. But whatever they did, it was bad.

He raised his sniper and fired a shot dead into the head of the creature rushing towards Murphy, then pulled out his knife and drove it deep into the skull of the other one that was closer. It dropped to the floor, taking his knife with it. Gritting his teeth, 10k bent down and grabbed the hilt of his knife tightly, placing his boot onto the creature’s chest until he could pull it out from where it’d gotten stuck.

“Time to go.” Murphy said, and Dr. Merch got into the passenger seat of the truck, the two guards grabbing onto the ladders on either side of the exterior. 10k moved to climb into the back, only for Murphy to stop him with a hand on his chest. 10k pushed his hand away, glaring. “Ah ah ah, not you kid.” He narrowed his eyes. “Go around the side of the building. Stay hidden, and cover us.” When 10k didn’t move to do as he said, he quirked a smile. “What, don’t you want to see Doc and Warren?”

He turned and got into the truck, sending it into drive and pulling out of the building before 10k could give an answer.

Doc. Warren. Addy.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he raced out of the building, immediately scoping out somewhere to hide. Better to stay hidden in case there were any stray Zs roaming around, or more of those creatures.

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Chapter Text

The honk of the truck snapped 10k’s attention back. He’d gotten distracted by his wound again, which still had no signs of blood on the bandages. He pressed it lightly and it hurt, but there was no blood.

Pull yourself together. Just because you’re used to shabby stitching jobs any other day doesn’t make this one weird. Doc had said that whoever had taken him was a really good doctor, some big word or other. I was just receiving professional level medical care for the first time in my life.

Warren was here . He stared out at the small group, his family, heart filling with longing. Vasquez was nowhere to be seen, and interestingly enough he recognized El Scorpion hanging around casually, along with another woman in a dark uniform.

Where had he come from? I thought he was dead.

Guess you aren’t the only cockroach, kid.

10k’s head snapped up. That was Murphy’s voice. It had sounded like the man was right next to him. He couldn’t even hear whatever the group was saying from his spot behind the crates. He must have just thought of the reply Murphy would give. People did that sometimes, right? Hear other people’s voices in their heads in their voices. That was normal. It’s just that…10k had never heard Murphy’s voice in his thoughts before. He’d have been less weirded out if it was Doc’s voice in his head. He tried to think of something, a sentence that Doc had said to him, and when he heard it again with Doc’s familiar voice he relaxed. It was fine. Just a weird, third person thought.

Warren’s hand shot up, pulling her gun from her holster and aiming it right at Murphy’s face. What was she doing? Warren couldn’t shoot Murphy, Murphy was the mission!

Drop the gun, Warren. Don’t shoot Murphy. We need Murphy.

She stood as stoic as ever, gun still pointed right at his head. 10k cursed under his breath. She was going to shoot Murphy! If Murphy died, that mean the past year-years? How long had it been exactly? He cursed again for getting distracted, his mind racing. Who cared how long it had been, if she shot him it would have all been for nothing. Addy getting kidnapped by the cannibals. Charlie getting shot. All the people they’d seen die.

The-

The Murphy and his amazing-

10k’s hands shook as he shoved that memory deep, deep down into his subconscious where it belonged.

Murphy’s hand lazily raised, and 10k fired a warning shot so that Roberta would drop her gun. He didn’t know what had gotten into her. She needed Murphy alive, they all did.

This wouldn’t be for nothing.

Another group of the creatures ran over the hills, making a break straight for the group. 10k reloaded his sniper, moving his sights from the group to the creatures. Protect the Murphy. That was all he needed to worry about.

Murphy’s truck started up again and pulled away, 10k watching as one of the creatures ran too close and got run over. Three more were getting uncomfortably close to catching up with the group, and he fired off a quick round of shots, watching their bodies drop to the road. When he moved his scope back to check on the group, they were standing still, confused. That only made 10k confused. Why were they surprised? He always took out the threats that got too close. But they continued running, and 10k lowered his gun, relieved, watching as the creatures dispersed or started fighting each other.

The truck pulled around and screeched to a stop, 10k climbing into the back and shutting the door behind him. Hopefully they were going to meet up with Warren again soon. He oddly didn’t find himself too upset the group had split up again. Maybe Warren needed some time to cool down, or maybe there was a reason Murphy had to drive separately from them.

With little else to do, 10k laid on the floor in the back, and let himself fall asleep.

When he woke up he’d feel less weird.

When he woke up, things would make sense to him again.

When he woke up, Doc, Warren, and Addy would be there.

Hopefully.

But when he woke up again, none of that seemed to be true. The guards had moved inside the truck at some point, and were now staring at him while he slept. 10k uncomfortably pushed himself up, moving to the bench away from them. They stopped looking, and instead turned to stare at Murphy while he drove.

Weird, weird apocalypse things. The apocalypse was weird, just needed to accept it. Cassandra used to stare at him while he slept.

Wait…Cassandra?

10k looked at the guards again. He had no clue, utterly none as to how he hadn’t noticed it before, but they both sported a slowly healing bite mark on their cheeks. They’d been bit . Murphy had made more blends. The other guards, and the finely dressed man, they’d been bit too, 10k remembered next. How had he never noticed the guard killed by one of the creatures had no head wound, and yet hadn’t turned?

Okay, he seriously needed to stop getting distracted. But surely Warren and the others had seen that Murphy had bit them, and none of them had kicked up any issues. There was the oddly glowing eyes hidden behind the guards' sunglasses.

Yep. Definitely weird like Cassandra.

10k, losing all worry of seeming like an annoying kid, promptly crawled over the seat and into the front, landing next to Dr. Merch with a thump as he peered at her face. She’d been bitten too, and for the most part had a dazed look in her eyes. He turned to look out the window when Murphy noticed his gaze, trying to pretend he hadn’t been looking at her.

Three blends to deal with, each who could snap at a single order given by Murphy. This was bad. Why hadn’t Warren or the others panicked?

Was that why Warren had pulled her gun on him?

…The group wasn’t meeting up with Murphy, were they? Murphy had decided to take off on his own, with 10k in tow.

Oh God, Murphy was ordering around a small handful of blends and 10k was the only one from Delta XRay Delta left to try and stop him until Warren could find him. This was way worse than he’d thought before he went to sleep.

And yet, he still felt oddly mellow. The incredibly bad situation he was in had definitely set into reality, but he still felt detached from it. Maybe his brain was subconsciously stopping him from panicking. Panicking wouldn’t help anything.

Murphy slowed the truck to a stop as they came across a van in the middle of the road, a couple clearly arguing inside, visible through the back window.

They sat there for a minute before Murphy got impatient. He laid on the horn about a dozen times. “Come on, move it!” He complained. “One other car in North America, and I’m stuck behind it!” He grabbed the window and leaned his head out, like the couple couldn’t hear him before. “Get out of the road, apoca-billies!”

“You’re going to attract Zs.” 10k reminded.

“Relax kid, you’re with me.” Murphy shot back, still obviously peeved. 10k supposed that was technically true. If Murphy could walk the whole group through the crowd of Zs outside the underground lab in Colorado, and block an entire horde from Roberta just by standing over her while she laid in a body bag, surely he could keep them away from a single teen, no matter how hungry they were.

“Maybe we should help them.” Dr. Merch suggested, her voice impassive.

Murphy grumbled, but got out of the car, 10k following to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. He flung open the back door to the couple’s van, placing his hand on the roof as he leaned toward them. “What is it gonna take to get you people out of the road?” He demanded.

The man stared at him, a bloodied screwdriver in his hand. “Our daughter’s dying.” He said hoarsely.

Murphy’s eyes flickered down to the little blonde girl in the woman’s arms. “Oh.” He said softly, barely audible.

The woman held the girl a little closer, arms cradled around her protectively. 10k’s mama used to hold him the same way when he had his fevers.

Murphy tilted his head in thought. “Maybe I can…help.” He said finally, looking back up at the man. He turned to 10k, eyes dark. “Back to the car.”

10k glared at him, slowly backing up. “No.” He said. “Leave them alone-Let Dr. Merch look at them, she can use the stuff in the lab-”

“In.” Murphy cut him off, and 10k climbed through the window into the car. Murphy turned to the couple again, voice polite and definitely not belonging to the man 10k had grown to know. “You may have heard of me. I’m “The Murphy”.”

“The immune man.” The woman recalled with a wonder filled voice. “You-You can help our daughter get better?”

“More than better.” Murphy promised. “There’s no vaccine cure, yet, but if you allow me to bite her, she’ll recover from her sickness. And when she dies, whenever that may be, she won’t turn. I’ve seen it.”

“Please.” The man begged. “Please, do it. Help her.” He lifted his daughter out of his wife’s arms and out of the truck, passing her to Murphy.

10k felt sick. He looked down at his lap, digging his nails into his thighs. Dr. Merch continued to stare straight ahead. A minute passed, then Murphy got into the car, and instead of waiting for the couple to leave, he silently backed up, and chose to go around using a side street.

They drove for another ten minutes, then Murphy pulled over on a relatively grassy field, hopping out of the car. 10k, then Dr. Merch followed him, watching Murphy walk through the pale purple flowers towards the cliffside.

“Why are we stopping here?” 10k demanded. He had no clue what Murphy’s plans were, or if he had any to begin with. 10k didn’t really have any plan, besides following Murphy wherever he went.

“To take in the view.” Murphy answered calmly. He pulled off his sunglasses and smiled at the city a ways below them. 10k didn’t recognize it from their journey to California. “There it is. Home of the 1974 World’s Fair.” He turned to 10k with an easy, relaxed smile. “You ever hear of the Lilac City, kid?”

10k’s silence answered for him. He knew Letchworth. Anything else was a passing dot on the map to be long forgotten.

“Course you haven’t.” Murphy scoffed, turning back to the city. “You grew up in a cave.”

10k stared at him, not a glare, but just a dead stare.

Better a cave than wherever you grew up that turned you into this.

“Take it in.” Murphy said, posture relaxed. “You got nature right here. It’s perfect.” His last words were quiet and certain. “Our new home.”

10k really wasn’t liking his use of the word our.

Murphy held out his arms grandly. “Spokane!”

Was that still in California? It better be. Hurry up Warren.

10k’s eyes drifted to Dr. Merch and the bite on her cheek again. She looked far calmer than she was when the man had died, and there were zombies eating each other in front of her. Almost…acceptant. The feeling in his gut twisted again, a worry growing. He hadn’t checked for…he was too scared, before. But maybe he could ride out this mellow feeling while he had it, to make sure he was still…

“I wasn't going to. Make you like her. I'd never do that, kid. Even if we hate each other's guts.”

His hand moved up to his cheek, carefully feeling his skin. There was no bite. He moved to the other side, and felt nothing. Murphy turned to look at him, and smiled strangely. Creepily. Still, 10k relaxed. There was no bite.

Dr. Merch could make the cure, and maybe it would fix her, so she wouldn’t end up with the same fate as Cassandra.

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Chapter Text

They’d moved down to the large bridge 10k had seen from the hill’s vantage point, and Murphy had once again stopped the truck and got out to take in the view of the rushing water.

“Magnificent.” He commented reverently. “Unapologetically powerful.” 10k made a face. “Just like I remember.”

“What are we doing here?” 10k questioned, having to talk louder above the roaring sounds of the river.

Murphy gave a mocking laugh. “Oh, ye of little imagination.” He gestured to the town. “This is where it all begins. Where the new world order-my world order-stakes its claim.”

“You’re insane.” 10k retorted.

Murphy turned to look at him, taking a few threatening steps closer. “The definition of insanity, is doing the same exact thing, over and over, and expecting a different result.” He paused between every few words to allow them to fully sink in. 10k turned his head away, Murphy’s words like a presence, large and imposing. Something he didn’t want to see, didn’t want to hear. “Look at me.” Murphy demanded, and 10k reluctantly turned to face him again, keeping his eyes downcast for a second longer before he rallied to glare at the older man. There were zombies slowly moving towards them from the bridge, shambling closer with each second. “We’ve been doing the same thing for two years.” Two years, two years, had it really been so long? So…10k must be fifteen then. “It ain’t working. Time for something completely different.”

Murphy finally looked away from 10k, starting to turn, and 10k allowed himself to drop his gaze from the man. Murphy crossed his arms as they continued to look out over the water, the sounds of zombie growls growing louder as they began to shamble past them.

“You will see the wisdom of my actions.” Murphy said, sure in his words. “And thank me.”

Yeah right, you blue bastard.

The zombies were too close. 10k turned, ready to raise up his rifle and shoot, only for Murphy’s words to stop him. “Relax, they won’t hurt you.” And indeed, the zombies didn’t even cast a look at 10k as they passed. “You’re with me now.”

“I’m not with you.” 10k immediately protested.  “I’ll never be with you.”

“And yet here you are.” Murphy countered simply. He turned away for a moment, directing his next words to Dr. Merch. “We need to get started setting up a lab and working on a blend vaccine right away. But first! We need a base of operations. My castle! My lair. My fortress of solitude.”

God he can’t be serious…He’s serious.

“Come along.” Murphy bid as he started to walk, Dr. Merch following him immediately. “We’re wasting precious time.”

10k stared down at the racing water, leaning just a little closer as he placed his hands on the railing. He’d been on bridges before. Had liked them almost as much as forests, being able to stare down at the rivers below. He bet the water was cold. His skin still felt too hot. Maybe he’d gotten a fever from the gunshot. God, he did not want to be around Murphy with a fever. He remembered the last time he was on a bridge, right after he’d almost been hanged after Sketchy and Skeezy’s latest con had gone belly up. Just when he’d thought everyone had stopped looking for him, even Doc. Maybe he could just stay here, until Doc found him again. The water swirled and bubbled, his hands tightening on the rail.

It was quieter down there.

Murphy’s hand on his shoulder made him realize how far he’d leaned out. His entire upper body was out over the water. “Hypnotic, isn’t it?” Murphy asked, slowly leaning 10k back. “Come on kid.” He patted his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

What will be okay? …What’s happening to me?

10k blinked, turned his head to look at Murphy, then back at the water. Reluctantly, he followed behind.

Murphy drove through Spokane like someone who had gone long ago, and while they had forgotten most of it, they could still somewhat find their way around. “Wait just a minute…” He said slowly, stopping the truck as he stared out at a large building. Brightening, he jumped out and ran towards it. “I remember this! The museum of progress, expo ‘74!” He gushed excitedly. “Oh, wait till you see it. There’s all kinds of cool futuristic stuff that we can use!”

His tone was odd to hear. 10k didn’t remember ever hearing Murphy get excited before today, and he never would have guessed that the conman was into things like world fairs. He knew he liked golf, and cheating at cards, but this? This was a never before seen side of Murphy.

Murphy pulled open the door and stepped inside, only to stop short, excitement waning. The inside was trashed, and anything that might have been inside was long gone.

“What happened here?” Murphy asked disappointedly.

“...Looters.” 10k answered flatly.

“Well, that’s progress for you.” Murphy grumbled, continuing through the once museum. But as he moved up the stairs, his hope came back somewhat. “Promising…”

Whatever Murphy was seeing, 10k saw none of it. “Looters really stripped this place clean.” He reiterated. There was nothing here. Time to move on.

“They used every part of the buffalo.” Murphy commented randomly. It sounded more like something his pa would have said. “But hey, saves us having to clear out the old future to make room for the new future.” He said optimistically. Everyone looked down at a skeleton laying on a pallet, long ago killed and decayed. “Dead body here and there.” Murphy shrugged. “But…otherwise…not bad. Place has good bones.” He said decidedly, slowly turning around to take everything in. “Plenty of room to expand.”

Expand?

Murphy moved into another room, and 10k, Dr. Merch, and the two guards followed behind. “Dr. Merch. This could be your lab.” Murphy decided with a pleased grin. She looked at him with an awkward smile, but said nothing. Murphy continued to walk, but finally Dr. Merch and the guards weren’t following him. He surveyed the next room far more harshly, before nodding decidedly. “And this, someday soon, will be Lucy’s room.”

10k’s heart might have actually dropped down to his stomach. He whirled around to face Murphy, the sound of the river rushing loud in his ears, his eyes wide. “Lucy? She’s alive?”

A tiny blue face peeking out from her swaddle, before Murphy had immediately taken her back. Watching as Murphy abruptly stood and left the campsite, leaving Cassandra behind. “Nobody leaves.” Falling. All the air being knocked from his chest. The crack in his side that burned whenever he moved. The dirt in his nose and mouth. Cassandra’s hands on his head squeezing so hard he was sure she was trying to break his skull in.

Had he killed her for nothing? Buried her body for nothing? Stared at her grave for an hour, all alone in the woods, for nothing?

“No, I fed her to the Zs on a cracker.” Murphy snarked. He shot his own glare at the boy as he turned. “Of course she’s alive.” Bile rose in 10k’s mouth, and he silently swallowed it back down. “I did what I had to do, at the time. Because I couldn’t trust certain people.”

Murphy had started to blur in front of 10k while he talked. Now, the entire room was a mix of mostly lilac with a singular blue blot, and 10k couldn’t remember how to refocus his vision. The blue blur moved, and a hand pressed down on his shoulder firmly. Slowly, Murphy came back into focus in front of him.

“Things are different now.” Murphy promised quietly. His hand didn’t move, and he patted 10k’s shoulder just like he had on the bridge. “Putting down roots.”

Did all grown men just start sounding like pa at some point? Maybe it was because Murphy was a dad. Doc sounded like pa sometimes, and he’d told 10k once, late at night, that he’d had a son, years ago.

His hand dropped, and he turned away from 10k, his voice somber. “My girl should grow up with a father.”

After another second of silence, he turned and left 10k alone. The room felt like it was closing in on him, and he swallowed around a lump in his throat, rushing to follow Murphy and push the thoughts of Lucy and Cassandra out of his head.

“Look at those windows.” He heard him say as he moved into the next room. “This definitely reads inner sanctum.” Murphy moved up the steps to the small platform, placing his hands down reverently by the large windows and peering outside. He smiled to himself, shutting his eyes to hear the roar of the far away water. “Love the sound of a waterfall.”

…Were 10k and Murphy always so…similar? He didn’t like it. He wanted Murphy to like the sounds of cars and a city moving. The forests and rivers and waterfalls were his.

“Maybe I’ll even sleep at night.” Murphy mused, slowly opening his eyes. He began to pace as he thought aloud. “Endless fresh water. We can grow our own crops. Even generate power again, someday. Buildings defensible…I can see my whole world from here.”

He moved to the last room, sitting down in satisfaction in a yellow chair, the guards flanking him and standing at the ready. “And this…This shall be my throne room.” He took in a deep, satisfied breath. "We're home."

10k slowly turned to look at Dr. Merch, her reaction just as blank as ever. "Did he just say throne room?" He said quietly, trying to pull a brief smile in the hopes Dr. Merch would reciprocate, and show that she was still in there, somewhere. She didn't even look at him.

This was really, really bad.

A noise started to echo through the building, Murphy standing to look wearily at the staircase. He nodded his head, and the two guards grabbed the guns out of their holsters and started to move towards the noise. They moved through the door, 10k unable to see whatever they had found, but hearing the loud scuffle that resulted.

A gunshot echoed but seemingly hadn't hit anyone, as another one of those creatures from the beach stumbled backwards into the room, one of the guards jumping on it to tackle it to the ground.

10k stepped closer and closer, eyes sharpening as he examined the fight, wondering if he should step in or not. He raised his gun, looking through the scope until his aim had lined up with the creatures head, following him with each movement.

Then the guard managed to bring the creature back down to the floor, sweeping its legs out from under it, and pulling out his gun to shoot. The creature kicked his legs up just before the guard pulled the trigger, and the bullet accidentally shot straight into the head of the other guard. The guard placed his boot down on the creature's chest, pinning it to the floor even as it squirmed in a continued attempt to escape. He knocked it out with the butt of his gun, and 10k lowered his in response.

The guard found an old wooden chair and grabbed some ropes, hauling the creature onto it and beginning to carefully tie him down so he couldn't escape when he woke up. It didn't take long, the guard hadn't hit him that hard, and the creature soon began to stir, before looking at the small group of three with wild eyes, jerking around in the chair.

He stilled as Murphy began to speak. "So. This is an Ender, huh?" 10k filed the word away for later. He had a sneaking suspicion this wouldn't be the last Ender they'd come across. "You sure he's human?" Murphy questioned, turning to Dr. Merch.

"Barely." Was her half-hearted answer. She swept her eyes over the Ender once, then took on the same mile yard stare, gone from the room mentally just as quickly as she'd come back.

The guard handed Murphy his gun, which set 10k on edge immediately. He'd known Murphy for two years now, and the man hadn't fired a gun once. He had no clue how to handle one. "What are you going to do to him?" 10k asked, exasperated.

But Murphy apparently had no plans to kill the Ender, because he offered the gun to 10k, posture casual and words light. "Shoot him."

"Are you crazy? No." 10k denied, taking the gun from Murphy's hands. It was better if he had it. Murphy didn't know how to use it. The Ender, crazy though the apocalypse may have made him, was human. And he wasn't a threat, anymore. They had no reason to kill him.

"I asked nicely." Murphy said plainly. "Shoot him." His voice was still calm, uncaring. Like he was telling 10k what he should do on his weekends, rather than ordering someone's death.

"You're not the boss of me." 10k argued, so focused on Murphy he didn't notice his arm moving to level the gun at the Ender's head. The Ender squealed nervously, and 10k still paid him no mind. He wasn't the danger, Murphy was. And you weren't supposed to turn your back on something dangerous.

Murphy's eyes narrowed. "You sure about that?"

"More sure than anything in my life." 10k glared.

Roberta was the leader. Not Murphy. And 10k was the last member of Delta-XRay-Delta who could make sure Murphy remembered that, until the group found them.

"Shoot him."

"No."

"Shoot him."

"No." An overwhelming feeling started to grow in 10k's chest again. This was wrong, arguing with Murphy. It made him feel gross. He needed to get out of here. This place, it wasn't safe. It felt nerve-wracking just to keep standing in the building.

"Shoot him!"

"No!" The past and present were starting to blur again. This whole interaction, it was too similar to the fights he used to have with his Pa, just before he'd gotten his ass beat for disobeying. The same nervous, flighty feeling levelling in his chest.

"Shoot him!" Murphy was screaming too loud, but it only made 10k scream louder.

"No!" Followed by the sound of five empty clicks. 10k stood frozen as his mind processed the noise. His head slowly turned to look at the gun he was still holding up to the Ender's head, his arm still held out away from him.

It was completely silent.

The only thing 10k could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, and the sound of his heart beating as fast as a hummingbird in his chest.

When had he-? He-He hadn't- He didn't-

Murphy grabbed the gun from him, amused. 10k passively let him take it, still in shock. "Silly boy." Murphy chided, 10k's empty hand still hovering, his eyes still wide as he stared at the space where the gun had been. Slowly, he lowered his arm back down to his side. "Kids." Murphy's voice was amused. He turned his head to look at the man again, at his wide smirk as he easily waved around the gun. "Shouldn't play with guns."

He knew that, he knew that he didn't need Murphy to teach him the thing he'd known ever since he'd turned eight and was given his first shooting lesson. He knew how to properly hold a gun, how to aim it, how to turn off the safety, to load it and change the clip. He knew the rules, his Pa would have never put that first pistol into his hands until he did.

You didn't aim guns at people unless you intended to shoot, he knew that-

He wasn't playing with guns all these years, he was staying alive-

He hadn't-He wasn't-

"Even ones that aren't-" Murphy's voice cut off with the loud shot that resulted from his casual nature with the firearm. 10k's eyes were back to staring in horror at the now dead Ender, blood splattered on the sheet behind him, his eyes wide and aimed up at the ceiling. "…loaded." Murphy finished.

Who was playing with guns now?

"Somebody clean that up." Murphy ordered casually as he handed the gun to the guard and walked off.

10k couldn't take his eyes off the body of the Ender. Even though it had been Murphy to kill him, it felt like it was 10k's fault. 10k had pulled the trigger on the gun that had killed him five times before even realizing it, not in control of his own body. If he'd pulled the trigger just one more time-

His eyes finally moved from the Ender's body to Murphy's retreating form, watching the man usher Dr. Merch back into her new lab.

He'd felt his cheek. There was no bite. So why-? He was loosing his mind. This place, it was some kind of horror show with no escape, not until Warren found him. He stumbled backwards a pace, then found his footing as he ran further and further away from the body and the guard passively cleaning it up, uncaring of what Murphy had done.

Of what 10k had done.

He abandoned his rifle, dangerous as that might be in the apocalypse. If he'd fired a gun for no reason before, especially on accident, he wouldn't be touching a gun for an entire month. Not to mention not being able to hold anything with his left hand for at least a week.

He had to be responsible for his own actions. Five shots was an egregious crime. Five shots levelled at someone's head on accident was damn near unforgiveable.

He found a small wooden rod down below, holding it in shaking hands. Aiming a gun at someone, five. Firing without intent, five, plus another five for each additional shot. Not turning on the safety as soon as Murphy had handed him the damn gun, two.

Thirty-two.

The first hit to the back of his hand hurt like all hell. It had been so, so long since 10k had been so stupid with a weapon. The last time his Pa had done this had been a few weeks before his death, and 10k had never been so careless since. 10k also didn't quite have a grasp on exactly how much force to put behind the swings, and he definitely felt like he'd accidentally gone a lot harder than his Pa would have.

The point was to learn, not leave permanent damage.

The next strike was better, but he still hissed out a quiet breath as he got used to it again. The next six strikes went by easily, but by strike number nine he started going over old hits, wincing with each new burst of pain, welts rising up on the back of his hand. He forced himself through the next four, before his eyes started tearing up and he had to stop before he cried. Crying was another five on each side. He knew better. The last three burned as the landed on his hand, and he breathed raggedly until his heart started to slow, and he began to calm down.

Then he flipped his hand over, and started on his palm. Each strike landed far worse, stinging and opening up cuts that burned and bit at his skin as he continued to hit over the old swings. Eleven strikes on his palms had left his less than eager to land the last five on his awaiting fingers.

Even though it was just five swings, it felt like three times that, having to take a long pause in between each so that he wouldn't cry and up his count.

His hand wasn't pretty when he was finally done. The back was red with criss-crossed welts, and his palm was still weeping some blood. Each movement sent a new wave of pain, especially when he curled his fingers.

Even though he was now all but collapsed onto the table he'd sat at, he was at least relieved that there was no way that this hand would move on its own without him realizing. It hurt too much not to notice.

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Chapter Text

10k was sweeping.

After he'd gotten up from that table, he'd felt antsy and all out of sorts still. So, he'd found a broom, and starting to slowly sweep the entire building. It was such a stupid, mundane task that it was calming him down. No one cared about sweeping anymore.

"Something about this just feels…so right." He heard Murphy comment from the chair he'd dubbed as his throne, pausing in his sweeping to glance over at the self-important blue man.

He'd done little more than sit on his ass since he-they-since the Ender, and that too was soothing some of 10k's nerves. If he was doing nothing, he was doing nothing, and that was just fine with 10k.

Dr. Merch slowly came up the steps from where she was bringing in medical equipment with the last guard. "There's somebody here to see you." She said politely.

"Who is it?" Murphy asked, voice on edge.

Warren. Doc. Addy.

10k's hopes were dashed with her next words. "The family with the sick little girl."

"The roadhogs?" Murphy waved his hand dismissively. "Send 'em away."

But the small family from hours ago came up the stairs at the sound of his voice, and Dr. Merch made no move to tell them to leave. Maybe there was hope for her yet. They glanced at 10k as they passed him, but otherwise their full attention was on Murphy. 10k continued sweeping, but purposefully started to evesdrop.

"We-We just wanted to thank you." The man said, voice obviously overcome with emotion.

"Thank me?" Murphy questioned.

"For giving us back our little girl." The woman elaborated.

Peering up through his eyelashes as he kept his head down toward the floor, 10k could see the man wrap his hand lovingly around his wife. "The bites getting better." The man added.

"Happy to hear that." Murphy said shortly, but he didn't sound annoyed by them bothering him like 10k thought he would be. He sounded…normal. Like they were just people exchanging plesantries in the grocery store.

"It's not just that she's cured." The woman insisted. "It's more than that. She's not afraid anymore."

10k's head jerked up, forgetting to be subtle as he stared at the family.

"You won't be afraid anymore."

"I'm not afraid of you. I hate you."

10k was vaguely aware he'd stopped breathing, and he couldn't quite remember how at the moment.

"It's a miracle." At her mother's words, the little girl ran up and climbed into Murphy's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He looked at her, features soft and contemplative. 10k remembered the first day they'd met, how the group had been angry at him for being so uncaring about a little baby that had died. Becoming a father really had changed him.

Murphy and the little girl spoke no words, and yet an entire conversation seemed to pass between them. The little girl was calm. She was safe.

She wasn't afraid.

"We just have one more favour we'd like to ask." The man spoke up, and Murphy turned his head to look at him. "Would you bite my wife?" He pleaded.

Black spots started to loom in 10k's vision from the lack of air. He was stock still, unable to even process the words that had just been said. No one asked Murphy to be bitten. Being bitten was the end of freedom, of control, of everything.

A slow, real, genuine smile began to slowly form on Murphy's face. "I can do that." He said agreeably, his voice still unusually quiet. His eyes flickered over to 10k for a second, and for the second time 10k could hear Murphy's voice in his head.

Breathe. Breathe.

It was like his lungs remembered how at the words, and they agreed instantly. The wooziness in 10k's head floated away, along with the black spots in his vision. He tried convincing himself that it was actually Doc's voice he'd heard in his head. Doc was the one that took care of him, not Murphy.

"I-I can bite both of you." Murphy corrected, the girl sliding off his lap as he stood. "If you want." He looked down at the girl. "A girl should grow up with a father." He echoed his words from earlier, then expanded on them. "With both parents. It's no bother."

"Thank you-" They said at the same time as he stepped closer. "Thank you so much."

"I didn't want to impose-thank you." The man said. "This is-you're too kind."

"You aren't imposing." Murphy promised. "I want to. It will only hurt for a second." He stopped just in front of them, looking to 10k, who was trying very hard not to look like his legs were shaking as baddly as they were. 10k turned and hurried away, the broom clattering down to the ground.

He finds a closet and shuts himself inside, sinking down to the ground. He remembered how to breathe, yes, but now each breath was coming too fast, and it still felt like he wasn't getting enough air.

He had to do something, had to figure out some plan to stop Murphy and find Warren and the others, but he just couldn't and he didn't know why. Short of just walking out the door and leaving Murphy and Dr. Merch behind to walk around aimlessly in hopes the group found him, he had no clue what to do. Addy was the one who could figure out how to radio for the others, Doc was the one who might be able to drug Murphy with some party drugs to get him willing to come with him, and Warren was the one who Murphy let boss him around.

10k was…the kid.

Cursing, he slams a fist into the wall in frusturation, freezing up when he hears the doorknob start to slowly turn. It swung open to reveal the little girl, who stared in at him with quiet interest.

The two stared at each other, until the girl stepped into the closet, shut the door again, and sat down on the floor with him. She tilted her head at him, looking at him this way and that, examining him like he was a puppy in a litter, and she was about to decide whether or not she wanted him.

Then she smiled, a lopsided kid smile with crooked baby teeth and scrunched eyes.

"What?" He asked. She didn't answer. "Why aren't you with your parents?" He tried again. No response. "Can you even hear me?" When she didn't respond, he tried again in a simpler way, pointing to himself, his ear, then her. "You. Hear. Me?"

She shook her head silently, still staring at him. She smiled again.

"I know ASL. Some." 10k offered awkwardly. But she looked confused by his hand signing, despite the simply sentence. "How old are you?" He asked, pointing to her hands. He pointed to himself, then held up all ten of his fingers, before dropping one hand and holding up five more. "I'm fifteen. How old are you?" He asked again, hoping she could understand the question.

She held up six fingers.

"Oh." 10k said flatly.

She was only around one year old when the world ended. If her parents hadn't known ASL before the zombies started biting everyone, they'd likely never been able to find a way to learn. It was far more likely that they had made up their own signs to communicate with their daughter, which meant she had no clue what anyone besides them was saying to her.

She smiled again, and waved at him, and he slowly waved back, which made her laugh, a low and throaty noise. She waved again. He waved. She waved. He waved.

The closet door opened.

"There you are Cassy." The man said, relieved, his hands moving with unknown words. He scooped her up and kissed her on the cheek, then looked down at 10k, who hurriedly scrambled to his feet.

"You can call me Cassy if you want, Tommy."

"Cassy-Cassandra-"

"You aren't really a fan of nicknames, are you?"

"No-No, I can call you Cassy if you want."

"I'm fine Tommy."

"Cassandra is just so pretty."

"-okay?"

10k shook his head to force away the memory. "What?" He asked quickly. The man was looking at him worriedly, his daughter in his arms.

"Are you okay?" He asked again. 10k stared at the bite mark on his cheek, red and new. It had been wiped clean of blood, but the wound was just starting to scab over. Bile rose in 10k's throat.

"I'm fine." He kept his words short.

"She wasn't bugging you, was she?" He worried, looking down at her. "Its just been so long since she's met any other kids-not that you're a kid of course-" He ammended hurriedly. "No teenager likes being called a kid. This is Cassidy."

Cassidy. Not Cassandra. Still painfully close, though.

"…And I'm Will." The man added when 10k didn't give his name.

10k nodded, ducking out of the closet and moving away from the father and daughter as quickly as he could.

This museum was too small. Or maybe it was just that he was outnumbered six to one. Murphy seemed to be everywhere he turned, in every blend he saw.

He made his way outside and sat down on the steps of the museum, looking around for any sort of distraction. Whether that be some zombies to take care of-he might have discarded his gun at the moment, but that still left him with his slingshot, knives, and an assortment of other weapons-or even a bird in the sky he could watch.

Birds. Birds.

"Where is he? He's not dead. He's not. You're lying . You're lying! I don't believe you!"

10k couldn't breathe. He could still see 5k, lost to the horde, then Red running after him and disappearing into the swarm of Zs. He could still feel the weight of Cassandra pressing down onto his back as she held him down, stopping him from running after her.

Why did she care?

That thing that Cassandra had become didn't love him anymore surely. If she had, she wouldn't have tried to kill him. So why did she care if he tried to kill himself?

And if it wasn't her who had cared, why had Murphy?

10k hated Murphy. Murphy hated 10k. Murphy wouldn't care if he was gone, dead or left in the middle of the night never to be seen again. The group didn't need 10k, they needed Murphy, and Warren, and Doc, and Addy. He was just the kid tagging along.

Why did Murphy care?

10k wished he had vanished with Red that day.

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Chapter Text

Murphy was surprised to find Will helping Dr. Merch set up her lab when he went in. The man was unpacking a box, and chatting casually to Marilyn while she listened passively. "-rough sometimes, but the pay made it better. And Hope was in interior design, she started out as an event planner until she finished her college courses. I was planning on doing the same, taking contracting classes, so I could still be in the same line of work, just on the opposite ends of the labour." He noticed Murphy watching him and smiled, wide and grateful. "Hello."

"Hello." Murphy echoed. "You're still here."

"I-I wanted to pay you back somehow, and you had all this stuff to move in." Will gestured to the still packed boxes. "I'm sorry, we can go if we're a bother. We're just so grateful, me and my wife."

"It's fine it's just-" Murphy stopped, a bit at a loss for words. "-you're cured. You can go anywhere you want."

"Here seems like a pretty good place to be." Will complimented. "We'll help, really. I used to work in construction, I could fix up the building, make sure its structurally sound, no leaks in the roof. And I can cook. My wife has a real green thumb, she used to work in the community garden in our neighbourhood every weekend. She has some seeds she's been holding onto for a while, and we have some plants already growing back in our car."

"…You want to stay?" Murphy questioned.

"Only if you'll have us." Will assured, taking a step closer to the man. "If you want us to go-"

"No." Murphy said hurriedly, before taking on a more casually tone. "I mean, it's fine. Appreciate the help."

Will peered at his face, growing a little worried. "Is it fine?" He asked. "You seem a little…"

"It's just…no one's wanted to stay before." Murphy admitted. "They want a bite or a cure, and then they're done with me."

Unless I make them stay.

Biting Cassandra had been selfish, and for a long time he'd sworn to himself never to bite anyone again, at least not anyone he loved. He'd been given a way to defend himself, and lots of reasons why he needed to use it.

Brett Zimmerman, who was going to steal the drugs and then kill not only his own group members, but Murphy himself, leaving the cure dead with him.

Ma and Pa, who were going to shoot his little girl just because she was different, and they were afraid.

Dr. Kurian, who had given the world the worst things he could cook up in a lab, but didn't want to take what he'd dished out.

Dr. Merch, who was going to use every part of him to sell to Zona, rather than saving the world like she'd promised.

They all deserved the fates he gave them.

It was some kind of cosmic joke that he'd been made immune. Given the one thing he never had before the apocalypse, the ability to make people stay with him so long as they shared just a little bit of him, and knowing that they hated they had to stay. No one was ever happy with him. He could feel Marilyn's silent contempt every time she looked at him, knowing that if he hadn't bit her, she would have alerted Zona, the same place that had kidnapped Dr. Teller and taken him who knows where to do who knows what.

Even Warren had broken her promise not to leave him alone.

That had been the final nail in the coffin, that convinced him it was time to cut her off himself, and finally just be willing to be alone, to let Marilyn toil away in a lab while he locked himself away from the world and waited for it to be saved.

But then he'd bitten the kid. He just couldn't help himself.

"I'm a bad person." Murphy admitted, sure that would make Will take his family and run far away from him.

Will reached out, and carefully placed his hand on Murphy's shoulder. "We didn't know who you were, back at the car." He recalled. "We'd heard of the famous Murphy, that he was immune with blue skin, but in that moment there was just so much…the nukes that had fallen, our daughter getting sick, we just couldn't realize what was right in front of us. You could have left us there, to eventually mercy my little girl-" A few tears dotted in the corner of his eyes, and he dropped his arm down. "-but you didn't. You helped us. Not a lot of people help people, anymore. That makes you good in my book."

Murphy stared at Will for a long time. Then he remembered Dr. Merch was still in the room and left.

He needed to get away from the blends.

He noticed 10k was lingering around outside through one of the windows, standing aimlessly for something to do now that he didn't have Doc or Addy for company. Murphy knew it hadn't quite set in for the kid yet. He felt everything he did, after all, the confusion, the odd feelings that he couldn't explain yet.

The kid hadn't even processed the fact he was bit yet for Christ's sake.

He was sure some part of him knew, deep, deep down, that he and Murphy were connected now, but his mind had put up about a thousand concrete walls from that realization.

Murphy was fine with that, of course. The kid was calm for now, he'd take it. He didn't know why he couldn't bring himself to stray too far from Murphy, he'd take it. The kid making excuses for why he'd started to hear Murphy's voice in his head, he'd take that too.

Maybe it was a good thing, easing him into the change. Murphy hardly knew anything about psychology, that was Doc's department, but even he knew ever since he'd met the boy that he wasn't batting 100s in the mental department all the time.

Well. Murphy would save the world, and then get 10k a nice therapist. Maybe that would make the kid hate him less for what he'd done.

Murphy.

He turned at the sound of Marilyn's voice and moved back to her lab. Will was gone, everything unpacked and Marilyn just fiddling with things until they were the way she liked them. "What?"

"This is a real, actual lab, and if you and a bunch of randoms are going to stay while I'm working on the cure, I want to make sure it's treated as a lab officially." She said as she turned to him, holding up a stack of paperwork. "I have all your files that were saved from the prison, plus the updates we managed to get over the years from Citizen Z and the brief examination on the submarine. But I have nothing for anyone else, and I want a full medical file on you as well. If anything happens, and I need to do impromptu medical work, I don't want to accidentally kill someone trying to fix them up."

It sounded completely reasonable, so Murphy nodded, trying to ignore the comment about his file. Ignore how much he wanted to look inside, and see how much was wrong with him. "Fine. That's fine."

"Good, I'll start with you then." Dr. Merch gestured to the treatment chair in the middle of the room, and Murphy reluctantly sat down. "Interestingly enough, I got the test results back from the blood sample I took on the sub, and your blood type changed."

"Changed?" Murphy repeated.

"You used to be A negative." Marilyn held up the file. "It's what was on record when you were admitted into prison, but now your blood type is O negative. My guess is that's why when you bite people, they take on your immunity. It's like giving blood, and you are currently a compatible donor to all blood types."

"The cure just…changed my blood type, it can just do that?" Murphy asked, a little weirded out. He supposed that was lengths better than being stuck on a table in an underground lab, his body slowly decaying underneath him while he was unable to die without a head shot, but it was still…creepy.

"Apparently." Marilyn didn't sound that worried, or empathetic about just how weird that truly was. "You said on the sub you've had practically every childhood disease you could catch. Did your parents vaccinate you, when you were younger?"

"Uh…well I definitely didn't get a flu shot. Or chicken pox." Murphy struggled to remember. "I didn't get the MMR one, I know that. I got the polio vaccination, and a tetanus shot once, when I cut myself open on a rusty nail."

"Just a tetanus shot? No DTaP?" Marilyn said. "I assume not, since you've had whooping cough?" Murphy nodded in confirmation. "What about Hepatitis B?"

Murphy shook his head. "But I'm still here, so what's the big deal?"

Marilyn said nothing, but Murphy could hear the thoughts swirling around her head.

Tainted blood…possibly leading inaccurate results…might not be able to replicate…not a good test subject…

Murphy slowly got up from the chair, eyes dark. "I'll remind you, I didn't sign up to be your guinea pig." He growled out, backing her into a corner as he got into her face, just a bit too close. "Maybe if you wanted a controlled drug trial, you don't go shooting up random prisoners with vaccines. Testing on people who've done harder drugs and made far worse life choices is probably why none of your other trials worked, Doctor."

Dr. Merch had mentally checked out again, a look of nervous fear frozen on her face. "I'm sorry." She managed to get out, but she didn't mean it.

Murphy turned and stormed out of her lab.

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