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It should be noted that how zombies are shown to behave in media versus how Patrick behaved after his revival tended to be a harsh contrast from one another. The first few months that followed the death of those losers and that damn clown had been rather hard on Henry, as a small part of him feared that Patrick would vanish for a second time as the creature who revived him had faded from existence, but this proved not to be the case, as Patrick remained at his side in an almost too-alive kind of state. Henry had tried to follow what he had seen in movies in order to take care of Patrick, but after the third time Patrick vomited from his attempts to feed him parts of a corpse, Henry came to the conclusion that the whole zombies-eat-brains idea was pure fiction. Patrick ate the same foods he did when he was alive, albeit with a few issues due to the fact that he had lost some teeth and part of his facial structure had been altered due to the fact that he had died. Henry had learned to cut Patrick's food up for him when it came to the harder stuff. It was domestic between them. It was almost too domestic, but with his father dead combined with the fact that he had been locked up in a damn mental institution for the last almost three decades, he was fine with the idea of domestication. He couldn't lose Hockstetter a second time and if that made him act nicer towards him then he used to then that was his own business but there were certain lines that even he had to draw. Patrick was dead or at least he was stuck in this unalive form.
It took a while for Henry to learn to separate fiction from what was real when it came to their unusual circumstances. Patrick was undead, but he wasn't the classic brainless zombie who had no other interests outside of brains, or at least not now that the clown was dead. Patrick started to seem more and more like himself each day. He still loved violence. Sometimes Patrick would even act like one of those zombies from the movies in order to scare him before bursting into a fit of distorted laughter. He couldn't talk in the traditional sense, but he could still communicate what he wanted. He was still the same bastard he knew and loved even after all these decades. However, sometimes it was hard to tell if that was for the best or not, as Patrick knew how to frustrate the hell out of him. Henry had assumed at first that zombies didn't sleep or at least tended to be somewhat nocturnal, and while Patrick suffered from extreme insomnia, he did in fact sleep. Henry could still remember the look Patrick had when he had handed him the first time he had found him asleep. Henry had been in tears as he had thought he had died all over again. Patrick looked at him like he was insane before he rolled over and went back to sleep. He was much more alive than Henry had first assumed him to be, and whether that was for the best or not was still up for debate, but if you asked him that at three o'clock in the morning when his undead companion decided the perfect place for him to sleep was on top of him, then his answer would be much different than his usual reluctant acceptance of the situation. It was like Patrick craved his warmth, and despite his attempts to fix this issue with heated blankets, Patrick still chose him. He bit him when he complained too much about it. He did what he wanted when he wanted.
“You can't be serious about this.” Henry complained when he felt the other man settle himself on top of him, unable to miss how he was ignored as the other man shoved his face into his neck. “Patrick.. Pat..”
It was late and Henry wanted nothing more than to obtain eight hours of uninterrupted sleep but based on how Patrick had chosen to act it was clear that he wouldn't receive as much. Patrick was dressed in one of Henry's shirts, which looked oversized on his thinner form. It was kind of adorable, but Henry was in no mood to unpack his homoerotic tendencies towards his undead best friend. He needed some sleep. Patrick's face remained buried in the side of his neck. He couldn't sleep like this. He tried to shove Patrick off of him, which caused Patrick to bite down on his shoulder in retaliation. He was kind of an asshole. He was an asshole.
“You need to calm the fuck down.” Henry hissed out with a sense of discomfort as he felt the other man continue to bite down on his shoulder, smacking him until he released him which earned him a bloodied smile. “You want to act like a traditional zombie? You think I won't serve you brains again? Don't smile.. It took hours for me to clean that vomit up off the floor.”
Henry knew he shouldn't have been so quick to let the issue die, but as Patrick continued to cuddle into him, almost like he needed his warmth to survive, Henry found himself unable to retaliate a second time, so he accepted his fate. Henry allowed Patrick to cuddle into him. It certainly bested the last three decades, where he had been forced to sleep alone as men in beds next to him cried themselves to sleep. It was much better. It took a few hours for Henry to fall asleep, but that was the least of his issues. The real issue came when it was time for breakfast. Patrick woke him with a bite to the throat. He wanted to devour him.. or claim him. It was kind of hard to tell sometimes but the point was clear. He needed to be fed.