Dead EndChapter 9

The world does not make any more sense when they return to Sebastian’s house. The screaming is quieting down, but there are crowds of people wandering the streets—crowds of zombies. From the topmost window on the third floor, Jordan can see one of those crowds in the distance, pressing around and over cars as they follow after fleeing humans. 

He sits on a chair with his arms crossed on the windowsill, his chin resting on his arms. Tiredly, he follows the flight of some human running past the street outside Sebastian’s house, watches as they vaults over cars and disappear out of his sight. About eighth zombies are following, feet unnervingly steady. Jordan watches as they go out of his line of sight, too. yLlHRA

Sebastian knocks on the door. It’s a tiny bedroom that Jordan has found himself in, not the one he woke up in this morning, but a much smaller one. Everything here is narrow and wedged in, and the paint on the walls has started to chip.

”Come in,” Jordan calls, his eyes drifting to the tank now bulldozing cars as it trudges along the street.

Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.

Sebastian opens the door quietly, stepping in on steady feet. ”I’m sorry for interrupting,” he says, sitting down on one of the piles of boxes next to Jordan. Jordan doesn’t look at him, can’t quite manage when just hearing his voice reminds him of Jules and—stuff. Reminds him of stuff that he’d rather not think about.

”It’s fine,” he shrugs. His eyes lower and he stares at a tree planted on the sidewalk swaying softly in the wind.  sBd4Dy

”Here,” Sebastian says and holds something out to him. Finally, Jordan tears his eyes away from the window and looks to the left, where a hand is holding out a ceramic cup of steaming liquid. ”It’s hot chocolate,” Sebastian adds when Jordan doesn’t move further. Sebastian says, ”I thought it might help.”

”I—” Jordan licks his lips and scoots back from the window somewhat. He ducks his head. ”Thank you,” he says and grabs the cup from Sebastian. It’s warm between his hands, the liquid still steaming slightly. The scent of chocolate drifts to his nose, and he curls over the cup, pulling his legs up on the chair. 

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

He takes a tiny sip. The scalding liquid (he really should have seen that coming) burns his tongue, leaving him coughing as he tries to swallow the rest without losing the ability to speak. The second sip is easer; he blows on it first before he slowly, with his nose scrunched up as he concentrates, tries it out. It works, and before long, Jordan has emptied the cup.

”Thank you,” he says again as he hands the empty cup back to Sebastian. 

Sebastian smiles at him, somehow managing to look both tired and happy at the same time. ”It’s no problem,” he says, placing the cup on another box. Jordan eyes the strong hand, the long fingers and  the tight grip that gradually relaxes. 

”Still,” Jordan says, because he is an idiot that can’t stop himself. ”You didn’t have to.”

Sebastian shrugs. ”I wanted to.”

Jordan relaxes back in the chair, staring at the other man. He looks just as tired as usual, but he’s eyes are brighter than he’s ever seen them. He’s sitting straight, not curled up like Jordan. And Jordan sees Jules horrible end when he looks at Sebastian, yes, but he also sees the man who just gave him hot chocolate because he wanted to. And nothing makes any sense anymore, and maybe Sebastian is a seer, maybe he’s a time traveler, maybe he’s just really paranoid and his paranoia just so happened to pan out. SyIvXj

But none of that really matters. Because there are zombies on the streets and Jordan has nowhere else to go. He doesn’t want to survive in a world like this alone; doesn’t even know how. He’s got negative zero (because he’s pretty sure what he’s learned from movies shouldn’t be replicated) survival skills.

If he left, what would he do? How would he get food, medicine? Could he fight a zombie? Could he kill a zombie? 

The thing is, he doesn’t want to know the answers.

”Could we…” Jordan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he draws himself up a little. ”Could we watch a movie? A… silly one, so I can stop thinking for a bit.” pz0512

”Of course,” Sebastian answers instantly, no hesitation. He stands, and pulls Jordan up. His hand is warm around Jordan’s, a scorching grip that burns him. It’s nice, this warmth. He didn’t realize how cold he felt. 

Gulping, he follows Sebastian down a floor, to another room. There’s a couch and a TV in there, a TV that turns on effortlessly when Sebastian gets to the remote. ”Solar panels,” Sebastian explains when he notices Jordan’s questioning look. And of course, it’s such an obvious thing. Obviously, a survival nut like Sebastian would have solar panels. 

Jordan is shuffled over to the couch while he’s still thinking about how solar panels actually work. He doesn’t know that, could never be bothered to find out. A blanket is thrown over his lap and a movie is slotted into the DVD player, and then Sebastian is sitting next to him, a warm presence overriding all his other thoughts. Jordan does his best to sink into the presence, to drown out the rest of the world.

When a romantic comedy he’s watched maybe a dozen times begins to play, it gets easier. It’s a favorite of his, one that he has nothing but fond memories of. Including watching it together with Jules and Andrew but—but those are good memories, too.  8V9mO1

”Thank you,” he whispers into Sebastian’s shoulder, and pretends he doesn’t feel the other man shiver against him.  Instead, he focuses on the movie, and the eventual popcorn and soda, and the darkening sky and descending silence. Eventually, he falls asleep. And though he’s haunted by nightmares, at least he’s warm when he wakes up.

Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.