Work Text:
Mark could feel it, the itch of the skin, the teetering edge of insanity rushing toward him, the bubbling laughter working its way into his gut.
He pushed his legs faster, running for the barn, running to Jack.
The barn had been a home to someone once, but when the stars fell, everything that couldn’t fight back was free game.
He and Jack had claimed the place for themselves as soon as they laid their eyes on it, about a month after the world collapsed. It was out of the main city, on the far edge of the district where there were few castles and fewer people.
As a matter of fact, the two hadn’t seen a single person – human, giggler, crater head, or otherwise – in the first two months of being there.
They began a new sort of life. They began to plant and harvest their own food, catch their own game, and live without the need for running water or electricity. They were peaceful for a while, even living with the knowledge that the rest of the world had gone to absolute hell. They were safe and happy, and it was a gift knowing as they did how many people’s lives were in shambles.
They even had a payphone that still worked within walking distance of their home, which was a blessing and a curse. Anyone passing through wanted to use the thing which caused Jack to curl up his nose adorably and bitch about him having to clean it all the time to be sure neither one of them got infected.
Then Jack had gotten hurt.
It had been an accident, he had been chopping wood and the blade had slipped free and sliced his hip. Nothing too serious, but still something that needed a certain amount of stitching up. Unfortunately for them, the wound had gotten infected and Jack became very ill, nearly bedridden, within a few days.
Mark knew it would happen eventually. One of them would come down with something and the other would have to go into town to retrieve whatever was needed. He was secretly glad it was him and not Jack.
Not that he didn’t trust Jack, but after all that he had been through, Mark didn’t want to pile any more regret and heartache onto his heavy shoulders. All of them had lost loved ones in the insanity, but Jack carried every loss on his back and refused to let Mark hold any of the burden.
Determined to save his love, Mark had wrapped himself in every layer of protection he had, grabbed his gun, both of his knives, and headed out to the next town over.
The town was abandoned, of course. Mark felt at times that he and Jack were the last two left on the planet. Two small castles swayed solemnly in the breeze near the town square, but Mark paid no mind to the piles of tangled corpses and crawling mold.
He made his way, quietly and carefully, to the pharmacy just on the edge of the town square. If he was good enough, he could get in, get the medicine he needed and maybe even a few things for their first aid kit before anything could notice him.
Carefully, he slipped inside the back door, propping it open with an abandoned chair he found underneath a rusted fire escape ladder.
He moved nearly silently, stepping carefully over the spilled pill bottles and mysterious liquid splashed onto the cold floor.
He had no issues snatching up a few first aid kits, several different types of medication, and even a sweet that he knew Jack really liked that wasn’t out of date while he was there. All the while, he never heard so much as a footstep.
Sighing in relief, he stuffed everything in his bag and then put it in a nearby clean garbage bag to protect it from rain or whatever happened to come his way.
He tiptoed out of the building and successfully slipped out of town undetected and unharmed. It was a miracle, but Mark knew he only had a matter of time. They started coming around at night and the sun was working against him, sinking below the horizon far too quickly for his liking.
Suddenly, he heard a sound in the trees to his right that made his blood run cold and his heart leap into his chest.
He ducked behind a nearby tree, trying to use it to hide as best he could. He was tempted to climb, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle both his weight and the weight of the pack on his shoulders successfully.
There was a shuffling of feet, then he heard dead, dry laughter. He wasn’t even sure if he could call it laughter, it was more of a call for death than anything else. Someone in the giggling stage of their transformation was close, far too close.
He didn’t move, refused to move. He would stay still and silent, waiting for the walking corpse to move away from him.
After standing like a statue for a while and not hearing a sound, barely daring to breathe, he slowly leaned to his left, inspecting the space behind the tree.
He was greeting with the sight of a grinning woman, standing just as still as he was. Her clothes were tattered rags, her eyes sunken into her skull and nearly sightless, her hair pulled out in clumps, her skin scraped away by blunt fingernails. She was a walking corpse, a giggler, and she was too close.
Mark jerked away as fast as he could, but he wasn’t fast enough.
She followed him, grabbing his arm with her outstretched hand, it almost resembled a claw. It tore into his skin, thick red blood spilled onto her pale fingers. She laughed long and loud in his face before dry heaving for a moment.
Mark did his best to get away, but she had an iron grip on him. He yanked out one of the knives that he kept at his side and slammed it down just below her elbow. The impact broke her bone and forced her to release him.
Once again free, he turned to dart away, only to have her other arm catch him as she fell. She used her body weight against his lower back to take him down with her.
The moment his body hit the ground he spun, bringing the knife to her head and sinking the blade into the base of her skull.
The woman felt nothing, only laughed at him as he tried to yank it out to no avail.
She opened her mouth and Mark reached around to his gun holster. He didn’t want to use it if he didn’t have to because the noise would bring more gigglers, but he had no other choice.
The bitch opened her mouth and before Mark could flick the safety off and fire a round into her brain, she dry heaved once more, then vomited directly in his face.
In that moment, Mark knew he was going to die. He would become a giggler and leave Jack all alone to face a cruel, unforgiving world.
But Jack wouldn’t survive if he didn’t get what was in Mark’s bag and dammit all to hell, Jack was going to fucking survive if Mark had to move mountains.
The spray coated the left side of his face, he knew he would likely be filled with spores soon, he would become just like the bitch that took him down, but he had to help Jack before that happened.
Jerking his body to the side, Mark threw her off and slammed the second knife he had through her skull. He didn’t want to use the few bullets he had if he was already infected anyway. He would leave them for Jack.
Rolling away, he pulled himself to his feet and sprinted back to his home.
What would he do? He didn’t want to become a walking corpse. The gun at his side crossed his mind for a moment, but he shook it off. No, he would leave the gun for Jack to use, he wouldn’t steal a bullet just because he couldn’t man up to death.
Then, an image, a memory, flashed through his mind.
Be a good neighbor.
Bright blue pills, one for each person, was distributed to every living person at the appearance of the crater heads.
Jack called them suicides. Essentially, that’s what they were. They were a way out that no one wanted to take, if they wanted to save their family the heartache, if they were infected or invalid, they could be a good neighbor.
People didn’t turn into gigglers right away. It took the spores a little while to take root in the brain, so Mark still had a few hours left.
When the familiar barn came into view, the place he had been calling his home for the past six months, he felt like falling to his knees and sobbing.
But he pushed himself forward. He head to take care of Jack. He had to.
He stopped just before climbing onto the porch. He tore the weight off his back and dumped his bag out of the garbage bag and onto the wood, tears rolling down his face as he did. The bag was clean and would not be contaminated. Using the garbage bag as gloves, he took the gun and the bullet case out and tossed them beside the bag.
He knew that when he didn’t come back by the time the sun set, Jack would go out looking for him. If he saw Mark’s bag and gun on the ground, if he practically tripped over them, he would know what had become of him. He knew he would. It had happened before, and it was what they had agreed on happening if one of them got sprayed.
Sighing, he stumbled back, allowing his mind to conjure up memories of his life at the barn: he and Jack cleaning the house, cooking over an open fire, watching the sun go down from the second story window and holding onto each other as they did. They had been together for years, even before the stars fell, but he would have to do it all on his own.
Mark still had a good neighbor pill left, and he planned to use it.
He wanted to say goodbye, to tell Jack one last time that he loved him, but he couldn’t infect Jack. He would have to just know. God, Mark hoped he knew because he loved Jack with everything he had. Adored him. His wide smile, his dorky laugh, his sparkling blue eyes…
Mark backed away, turned around, and marched in a randomly decided direction.
He stared at his feet as he walked, pushing down the urge to go and find someone, anyone, to keep him company.
But he refused. No one would witness his final moments, no one else would be caught in his trap.
He came across the phone booth Jack always bitched about as he walked. He walked over and picked up the phone, making a mental note to break it off after he used it so no one else would touch it. He was infected, everything he touched would get infected, and he refused to spread death to anyone else if he could help it.
He picked up the phone and after digging change out of his pocket, dialed an old number that he knew so well. It didn’t ring at all, the phone was long since dead, but the familiar voice telling him to leave a message and “If this is Mark, just text me you dork,” made tears down his cheeks faster.
After a beep he began…
“I um… I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s dumb and stupid and you’ll never hear it. You’re the only person with me until the end, yet you won’t get to hear my final words. Funny, isn’t it? Or bullshit. Whatever.
I just... I wanted to hear your voice one more time. Just once. You mean everything to me. I love you. I adore you. You’re the reason I breathe, but Jack... but now my love, I can’t breathe anymore.”
A giggle sprung into his throat and he shook his head, “No. no no no no no-“ he whispered in desperation, only half aware that a beep sounded on the line to let him know that he had run out of time to leave a message.
He yanked more change out of his pocket and forced himself to listen to the agonizing sound of his beloved’s voice again…
“I called because… “he broke down in sobs.
“I got sprayed. I know it’ll take over soon. I have a pill left… I’m going to have to take it, I’m going to have to good fucking neighbor my way out of this mess, Jack. Just… just live for me, okay? Continue to sing obnoxiously loud and snort when you laugh and eat like a slob and all of the things that make you wonderfully you.”
Another laugh escaped him and he felt like throwing up
“I just called to tell you that… that I love you. I-I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave you all alone, but I have to. Be strong my love, be strong.”
He coughed and giggled before pulling a bright blue pill out of his pocket and popping it into his mouth, He chewed and swallowed. He whispered one last line before ripping the phone off of the box with and throwing it. Now all he could do was wait for death.
“Oh, darling how I love you.”