All You Zombies Hide Your Faces, 1/?
Title: All You Zombies Hide Your Faces, 1/?
Rating: PG-13, I think.
Pairing: Winn, natch. Also some Santana/Brittany and Quinn/Rachel, and maybe you can read Puck/Kurt into it, I dunno.
Warnings: Violence, swearing. I think that's it, aside from some unfortunate song choices.
Summary: Written for the following prompt- Several months into a zombie/virus style post-apocalyptic scenario Will, Finn and whoever else you wanna bring along are surviving. Finn has an injury that might be a bite/symptoms that might be the virus and confides in Will. The impending doom causes one to confess their feelings to the other.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, etc, etc.
Notes: Complete and total crackfic, obviously. Intentionally stupid in places. Sorry if it blows, it was like 4 am when I STARTED this (I couldn't sleep from thinking about it) and I posted it at 6:30 am, with extremely minor editting, so there's stuff in here that seemed like a good idea at the time, which I may regret later.
"Keep moving!" Santana wheeled and loosed a few more rounds into the advancing horde. "Faster!"
"He's too heavy!" Tina had a firm grip on Finn's left arm. The right one was bound up in a sling fashioned from Rachel's hideous powder-pink cardigan. The young man's face was red, pouring with sweat, his teeth clenched to stifle sobs as pain wracked his entire body.
"We're not leaving him!" Rachel struggled to hold Finn's legs. "If it weren't for him..." she trailed off, hanging her head to hide her face as tears threatened to spill forth. She stifled then with a sniff and looked up once more. "We're not leaving him." Her tone made it clear that there would be no further discussion on the matter.
"Eat lead, assholes!" Santana screamed, slamming the trigger until the chamber clicked empty. "Fuck!" The drooling mass shuffled forward, undaunted.
"Guys!" Artie came barrelling around the corner on one wheel with Puck and Matt in hot pursuit.
"Motherfuck!" Puck swore upon seeing his closest friend groaning and thrashing in what could only be the acutest agony. Holstering his automatic, he lifted the football player bodily, ignoring his groans of discomfort and dumped him unceremoniously in Artie's lap.
"You get him back to the choir room. You two make sure nothing gets in his way." He tossed Rachel and TIna an automatic pistol each from the rather impressive collection of firearms and assorted ammunitions that covered his torso. "We'll watch your back." The girls nodded and took off after Artie as he disappeared back the way he came, taking care not to jostle their injured teammate too much.
Puck snatched up two grenades from his belt, yanking the pins out with his teeth, and tossed them into the oncoming wave of diseased drones. Grabbing Matt and Santana by their collars, he dragged them around the corner and all three of them hit the ground as the explosion rocked the entire building. Wordlessly, the trio picked themselves up and chased after their comrades
* * *
A slam echoed through the choir room, causing everyone inside to jolt, moving instinctively towards anything that could conceivably be used as a weapon. Another slam and everyone jumped back noticeably. Taking the initiative, Will moved towards the door. As he reached for the handle a third slam, and then a scream.
"Finn's hurt! Open up!"
There was a collective sigh of relief at the familiar, albeit, muffled voice. Will yanked the door open wide as Artie wheeled in with the injured Finn, escorted by Rachel and Tina. The other's weren't far behind.
"Were you followed?" Will turned back towards the door.
"I... took care... of it." Puck panted, collapsing against the chair raisers. Kurt rushed to his aid, dabbing at his forehead with a damp cloth.
"Gaaaaaaa-argh!" Finn's cry snapped Will out of his panic.
"Artie, wheel him over here." He motioned to the stack of gym mats that served as their sleeping area, soon to become their sick bay. Will scooped the young man under his arms, groaning slightly at the effort, and lowered him gently onto the floor. "Finn? Finn!"
The young man opened his eyes, they were glassy and unfocussed, but he still managed to look vaguely in the direction of the familiar voice.
"Mr. Schue." His voice was faint, punctuated by pained gasps. "I'm sorry I let you down. I tried. Couldn't ma-make it to the parking lot."
"What are you talkin' about?" Will smiled as widely as he could. Only the glistening of almost-tears betrayed his true feelings. "You could never let me down. Just tell me how you got hurt, and... and we'll fix it, okay? You're gonna be okay."
"N-not likely." Finn exhaled shakily. It might have been a laugh if he wasn't in so much pain. "I-I got bit, Mr. Schue." He peeled away the makeshift sling to reveal the glistening, festering wound on his forearm. Already the discoloration was spreading up to his elbow. There was a collective gasp from the onlookers. Only Santana wasn't paying attention.
"Where's Brittany?"
A hush fell on the tiny assembly. Rachel looked around the room.
"And Quinn?"
The silence that followed this was even worse, if that were possible.
"Where are they?" Santana demanded again. Kurt stepped forward.
"We were attacked on a food run. Brittany told us to run, so we did. I was-" he paused, swallowing back a broken sob before it could escape his lips. "I was so scared, I didn't realize Quinn had fallen behind until I got back here."
Silence. Santana was shaking with barely-suppressed rage. Kurt flinched back as she stepped forward, but she marched right past him to the crate of weapons resting in the far corner of the room. She pulled out a pump-action shotgun and for one dreadful moment, everyone was sure that she would blow Kurt straight through the wall. She continued to rummage through the box, slipping on two bullet belts so they crossed over her chest, and slinging another gun over her shoulder.
"I'm going to get them."
"I'm coming too." Rachel stepped forward, still holding the automatic Puck had tossed to her. Before anyone could think to object, they were out the door.
In the silence that followed, Finn's faint voice made everyone jump as though a bomb had gone off.
"M-Mr Schue?"
"Yeah, Finn?" Will took a rag from the pathetic grab-bag of supplies that masqueraded as their first-aid kit and dabbed gently at the sweat on the young man's face. He couldn't stand to see it like this, contorted by the agony of the encroaching infection. Every pained, broken sob was like a skeletal hand squeezing his heart. "What do you need, buddy?"
"N-need you t-to tie me u-ah!" He whimpered, turning away from Will's ministrations. Every vein on his neck was bulging and throbbing as though something were crawling inside it, which was pretty much what was happening. "Need you to tie me up." Finn tried again. "When I turn, I don't wanna h-hurt anyone."
Will held out a hand and Tina quickly rushed forward with a length of thick cord, dropping it in his hands. Willset to work wrapping it around Finn's hands, then threading it between them , pulling it tight before continuing down his body to do the same to his ankles. He quickly moved back up to Finn's head, lifting it slightly so he could cradle it in his lap. Taking a water bottle from the nearby stack, he held it to the young man's lips.
"You have to drink something, you're burning up."
"What's the use?" Finn groaned, pushing feebly at the bottle with his bound hands. "Gonna be dead soon anyway. Don't waste it."
"Drink!" Will commanded, using his best I'm-a-teacher voice. Finn took a few sips and then turned his head away.
"Tina?" His glazed-over eyes were staring not at her, but at the gun dangling from her hand.
"Yeah?"
"As soon as I turn, I want you to shoot me, okay? Right between the eyes. No hesitating."
Tina opened her mouth as if to object, only to shut it again and nod resolutely. Her dark eyes burned with determination.
"And, Mr. Schue, can I ask you something?"
"Absolutely. Anything you want, buddy." He ran a hand over Finn's sweat-drenched hair.
"Can you guys... maybe... sing me something? I think it might help to distract me fro-from the pain."
"What do you want us to sing?"
"Doesn't matter. Anything."
"Another head hangs lowly,
Child is slowly taken.
And the violence caused such si..." Kurt tapered off and gave up as he noticed the rest of the room glaring at him. "Uh... Sorry." He cleared his throat and tried again.
"Holy Moses met the Pharaoh
Yeah, he tried to set him- " This time he was cut off by a sharp smack to the back of the head, courtesy of Mercedes.
"Are you serious?"
"I'm sorry, okay? Considering the situation, it seemed thematically appropriate!" There was a pause. "How about the Monster Ma-"
"NO!" The unanimous cry drowned Kurt out.
"Well I don't see anyone else making any suggestions." Kurt sat down on the piano seat in a huff.
Finn let out a weak laugh that quickly devolved into a fit of coughing. Will stroked his hair, making soothing noises.
"You're going to be okay, Finn. Everything's going to be fine."
"Sing for me."
Will cleared his throat. As he sang, his voice, while still quavering with unspoken grief, grew stronger and clearer.
"Try not to get worried
Try not to turn on to
Problems that upset you, oh
Don't you know
Everything's alright
Yes everything's fine
And we want you to sleep well tonight
Let the world turn without you tonight
If we try
We'll get by
So forget all about us tonight."
Without taking his eyes off Finn for even a moment, Will waved a hand to indicate that the others should join in.
"Everything's all right
Yes everything's all right..."