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When he told Spidey and 4C that they would leave the church first thing in the morning, they agreed with the certainty of disciples following their leader. So, imagine his irritation when they suddenly couldn't catch up with his pace.
"Jonathaaaannn!" He tries not to sigh, he really does. Based on her voice, those two don't sound that far behind. And yet— "Wait uppp… you're too fast!"
"Well, you could go a little faster." His voice trails behind his shoulders, eyes trained on the buildings. Despite his many years in the abandoned city, the overgrown vines that have claimed home to the walls make everything look so damn similar. He stops his tracks to scan the streets, just to make sure they're on the right path.
Spidey, leaning heavily on 4C's side, eventually makes it to him.
"You know, Jonathan," she pants out, "you're really fast on your toes for a sixty-year-old."
"Sixt- I'm not sixty."
"I mean, you almost are."
"Yeah, like—" 4C waves his hand, and his eyebrows do that crunch when he's clinging onto a fleeing memory. "Aren't you, uh… you're fifty-eight, right?"
Well, he's a little impressed he remembers. "Yeah. But I'm not sixty yet, am I?" He points at the building with noticeable red walls and gestures to the street leading forward, "Okay, so we head—"
"Dang," Spidey cuts in, "you're really old! And you still have so much energy? Wow."
"I don't see how this is important—"
"You should rest, Jonathan, aren't you tired from all this walking?" She skips to the car closest to them. The moment she sits on the hood, her body sags down, with her legs swinging against the bumper. "Don't you know? It's good to save up energy to avoid fatigue. You don't want your legs to like, collapse or anything."
"Spidey—" he tries, cause he is not staying here out in the open any longer, but 4C's already hopping on beside her. The car groans under their weight. Now that he looks at it, the hood isn't completely intact. "Guys, there's no way you're already tired."
"Already?" she gapes, "We've been on foot for hours, constantly going back and forth, and not to mention the climbing! Let's sit down for a while, at least?"
4C enthusiastically pats the roof of the car behind him, earning a squeak and low groan. "Yeah, Jonathan, sit with us! You can take the roof."
He counts fifty seconds before they crush the vehicle.
That's not his problem. In fact, a little injury could give them a lesson or two. But who will suffer the consequences of treating them and losing the opportunity to go anywhere?
Who else? He thinks in defeat. Damn it all.
With a grunt, he scratches the side of his nose right beside the bandage, "Look, you can rest when we make it to the airport. The faster we get there, the more time you can rest, alright?"
Spidey makes a strained noise. He perks up, suddenly alert; she's never complained about travelling once until now. Is it a hidden injury? A strained ankle? Her feet seem to be fine, with the way she keeps hitting the front— wait. "I guess you're right…"
"Spidey, 4C," he rushes towards them, "stop swinging your legs—"
Too late, the hinge snaps and dislodges the hood. It collapses abruptly and sends the two backwards into the pit with a collective yelp. Beneath them, he hears the engine bay smash into pieces.
"ACK!"
"You're kidding me," he hisses. Spidey and 4C lay stiffly on their backs with their necks against the windowsill and their legs dangling out.
Spidey laughs shakily. "Ow, ow— uhm, I think we chose the wrong car, 4C."
"Oh my god," 4C cries, clinging onto the surface, "how did I get here? Spidey, I think we're trapped."
"Oh, god..."
"You're not trapped," he tells them, reaching for Spidey's arm. "Don't be dramatic, come on."
She eagerly grabs his forearm. He holds onto the back of her shoulder with his free hand and swiftly hoists her out. "Oh, thank you, Jonathan, you're a lifesaver. That- heh, that was fun, right, 4C?"
4C pushes himself to a sitting position, which only makes him plummet down even further. "Yup. Mhm! Very fun."
"Oh, 4C, no—"
With a little tumble backwards, he and Spidey eventually get 4C out and on his feet. He recovers well enough, cause he beams at them soon after. "Thank you! Wow, this car is so fragile."
Spidey pats the dust away from 4C's jacket. "I agree, let's not do that again."
Despite his doubts, he believes her enough not to repeat her mistake. After confirming they're okay, he starts to walk again. "At least you learned your lesson."
He hears their footsteps not long after. Their pace is slow. Heavier, too, and an absence of the light skipping they'd do. Normally, they'd be at his side or stray farther than they're supposed to.
"Yeah! Next time, we'll make sure the car isn't broken, and we'll avoid fracturing our bones."
"Exactly," 4C says. "See, we have awesome survival skills."
"…Just don't strain yourselves," he says, pausing in his tracks.
"We won't!" Spidey rushes towards him with 4C in tail. He continues moving, making sure they're in tow.
It's only after they arrive at the airport that he figures out why they're more sluggish than usual: they barely slept in days.
He doesn't particularly need sleep; he caught the habit of keeping himself awake since he was a child. He remembers now, long ago, when he had the church to himself for the first time, and he was as awake as the city filled with the infected's gurgles in the night. That's all the city was, voices of the dead barely recognizable, trodding the barrier of his home. Days and days and days of keeping himself up, until he started hallucinating his parents' voices.
He had prayed for their return, but no one he knew was alive anymore. Not even the old married couple that frequented their Sunday prayers, or the middle-aged man who would gift his family baked sweets. On the house, he'd tell them, never asking for anything in return.
There was even a boy his age who'd sometimes take a stroll down their street, whom he never got to exchange with anything more than a "hi". Next time, he'd tell himself, he'll ask if they could be friends.
He hallucinated their voices, too. It almost drove him mad.
It took him a long time to accept the slumber. Yet, even then, it was difficult to sleep for an entire night.
But it must be different for Spidey and 4C. They love the adventure, and they can't stay still for more than a minute, but they obviously have their limits.
"Whoa, I've never been in this airport before," 4C says, spinning in his spot.
He watches Spidey stifle a yawn for the third time that day. "We actually came here a few days ago, 4C."
"Oh, we have?"
"Yeah. We also went to check the bus— you know, the one I took to get here— and we went to IKEA—"
"IKEA?" He hops in excitement, "I love IKEA!"
"Yes, me too!"
"We should go there, there's so many things I want to buy. Imagine the chairs!"
"4C, you already—"
He scans the desolate area. "Actually, it's better if I go up alone."
She turns, eyes wide. "What?"
"It'll be quick. You and 4C stay here. There's a bench over there, you two can sit down until I come back."
"No, Jonathan, it's okay!" Spidey says, taking a step forward, "Whatever it is you're looking for, it'll be way easier if we all do it together. Covering all grounds, as the saying goes."
"No. Trust me, Spidey, you'll slow me down." He takes his leave, but before he does, he points a finger at them. "Do not go anywhere. That's a rule. You two understand?"
Spidey blinks. "Oh. Okay. I understand."
4C looks between them. "Yeah! No going anywhere. Got it."
"Alright." But he doesn't move to leave.
Finally, "I'll be back."
Airports are built for huge crowds. Maybe that's why the silence here is so odd.
The decaying years dwindled down the number of infections in the city. A good number either strayed outside the borders or were killed by survivors. But even with the absence of human contact for six months, the city still spoke in a way. He stayed in his church to avoid those voices. Even after he spent fifty years accepting it all, he still had enough of being reminded about what was replaced.
But this is the most damning silence he's heard in a while. The weight pricks his skin like second bandages. He itches his face at the thought. Just how long has he been with those two?
He descends the stairs, expecting to hear their echoing chatters. When the silence only extends, he swears, "Fuck."
He quickly races to the last step and looks around. It's entirely possible they wandered off on their own or left the building. What's even the point of his rules anymore? No one ever listens to them.
"Fuck's sake, those two." He's about to jog to the entrance before he double-takes. Beside the reception on his far right, he gets a glimpse of two figures on the bench.
Spidey's head is tucked underneath 4C's, with their arms tangled up together, and their mouths hang open without a sound. Honestly, he considers it a miracle they didn't push to follow him or explore elsewhere.
It's an incredibly bad idea to sleep in such an open space. He should've told them to find a room, or something. But he resists the idea of waking them up when they look… It's just rude to do so.
He takes a quick check outside to see the sun by the entrance; it blares high amongst the clouds, with no signs of it falling for a long while.
A few hours, then. And then he'll wake them up.
He doesn't know where Spidey and 4C found a music box. Or why they want to carry it back to the church.
"Does that even work, still?" he asks, unimpressed. "You can't even use it without a—"
Spidey holds up a reprimanding finger. "Shush, Jonathan, don't be impatient. We haven't shown you the best part."
"Yeah, Jonathan, look." From behind his back, 4C takes an item out and holds it to the sky. "Dun, dun, dun! It's a music disc!"
His eyebrows shoot up. "Wow."
"Check this out." He slips the disc in, and a few moments later… nothing happens.
"Oh my god, it's beautiful."
"Wait for it."
Shortly after, the first note plays. Then another, and eventually, he finally recognizes the first verse. It's choppy and muffled, but he can discern the instruments playing. A drum, a guitar, a bass. On the other hand, the male singer's voice is barely audible. He can't even make out the lyrics. Come to think of it, though, he might've heard of this before.
"Jonathan, have you heard of this song before?" Spidey looks at him curiously. "I think it's from your time."
He looks at the window. "No."
"Oh. What songs did you listen to?"
"Nothing. I mean, I don't really remember."
"Aww, you look sad about it. It's okay, Jonathan, it's normal to feel that way! I'd be sad if I couldn't listen to music for fifty years."
"Remember," 4C says, "he's pushing sixty."
"That—" he sharply turns. "Okay, bringing up my age again is unnecessary."
"Ooh, 4C, I think he's sensitive about his age."
"Yeah, he's not very nonchalant about it."
"Spidey. 4C. I'm going to take that disc away."
After his refusal to bring it back to the church, they end up taking shelter in a secluded staff room of one of the tall buildings for the night. At least in here, they're barricaded enough to safely play the song without attracting too many infections.
He regrets it instantly.
"Guys, that's enough rewinding. Take the disc out."
"Huh?" 4C frowns. "But I didn't get to listen to the song yet."
"Yes, you have, and you played it seven times already. I'm sick of this choppy melody."
"But there's nothing else to do around here." Spidey flings around a piece of paper they scavenged for, now dribbled with words. "See? We're trying to figure out the lyrics. So far, we have… 'light', 'walked for miles', 'on earth', 'my love to you'. I think it's a love song. It's so sweet!"
"I hate to break it to you, but you'll never get anything more than that with this shitty audio— 4C, I told you not to play it again!"
"You did?"
"I told you for the third time!"
"Jonathan, keep it down," Spidey chides. She leans more closely to the music box. "I can't hear anything."
He doesn't have another choice.
The next three minutes pass with the two intently deciphering the song. They don't even notice the gurgles of an infection above their floor. He latches onto its voice, the blow of a breeze, Spidey and 4C's discussion, anything other than the song playing in a calm rhythm.
A yawn is forced out of him unbidden.
Spidey and 4C perk up instantly. Fuck's sake.
"Wait, Jonathan," she starts, sounding and looking like she came into an epiphany, "does music make you drowsy?"
"No, it doesn't."
"But you yawned just now!"
"I didn't."
"You so did," 4C says, grinning just as wide as Spidey. "So this is, like, your weakness. You do have a weakness!"
It's like needles on his skin. He backs away. "Why are you so happy about that?"
Spidey shifts on her knees to face his way. "You rarely tell us anything about you, of course we're happy to learn about this. It proves you're not, like— I dunno, an alien that's never tired. Or sleeps."
"Of course I don't sleep, how can I sleep at a time like this?"
"But we're safe here, aren't we? You can sleep right now."
"No." He leans against the wall across from them. "That's alright."
"Jonathan," Spidey whines. "Would it kill you to rest for a minute? We're not gonna go anywhere, you know."
He stares at them. "I dunno about that."
They say something else, but he's already tuned them out.
Two days later, 4C disappears.
He and Spidey remain on the rooftop, even after the sun dips into the void. Spidey doesn't speak the whole time. It's inviting, as it is a little unsettling.
They don't talk about their fight. He certainly won't bring up the things he had told her. But there's that uncertainty, an unanswered question hanging in the air. He can't do anything about it; it's irritating.
Then, she starts humming. It's quiet, as though the song is reserved for herself, but it spills into the empty crevices of this city.
After several years, this might be the first voice that doesn't hunt him.
A strange image comes forth. He's carried in somebody's arms, the world is spinning, and the sun rays break through the clerestory. He rapidly blinks. He remains standing on the wooden balcony, light long gone, and Spidey is still there. So is the rest of this decaying world.
He looks down at her, who's sitting with her legs tucked under her chin. She looks at him with curiosity and hesitance.
He says, "You messed up the last part of the chorus."
Her eyes widen. Slowly, her surprise gives way to a minute smile. "Did I?"
"Yeah."
"Teach me how to sing it."
"No. I don't know how it goes."
"Then how did you know I messed up? Admit it, you do like the song."
"I do not. You just played it too many times and I was forced to bear with it."
"So you grew fond of it."
"No—"
"Jonathan's grown fond of a song!" She sings. She beams at the sky. "Jonathan has such a soft heart."
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
He breathes out from his nose. "Nevermind."
He sits down a little way away from her. She doesn't seem to mind, cause she continues humming with a happier tune.
In a few hours, they'll be on the streets to look for their friend. For now, while Spidey hums a long forgotten tune, he remains wide awake to listen until he can't any longer.