Title: A Very Merry Zombie Apocalypse
Author:
hiza_chan Pairing/Characters: Shisui/Itachi
Rating: PG-13
Total length: 1,790
Warnings: Zombies. Significant cheesiness. Shoddy writing.
Summary: The world ends. Shisui is exuberant. Itachi is kind of a Grinch. Life goes on.
.
Their particular brand of apocalypse starts in the manner that most do. It starts with a miracle cure and smiling, lying faces- a company that, in the end, is far too greedy to pay any mind to the side effects. The world ends in March, and Spring comes marching in with a horde of stinking bodies- flowers blossoming and birds singing and the dead clawing free of their graves.
It's terribly cliché, and everyone knows it. The world recognizes the signs, but overlooks them. Ignore the problem, and it isn't real, isn't that right?
When the dead start walking around- well, it doesn't matter how many horror movies you've watched and how many different zombie survival plans you have. You still panic. Fear still floods your veins. For some, the body seizes up. Panic takes hold and in that one crucial second, you go still. And stillness is all of an invitation that a zombie needs. For others, instinct takes over- fight or flight. Some run- they run and run and run, and half the time, they do get away. Zombies are just as slow as they are in the movies, so outrunning a small pack is easy. It's evading the entire horde for an extended amount of time that's the real problem.
Others fight- bullets and knives and good, old-fashioned baseball bats and two-by-fours. It works for awhile, but again, it's hard to keep up the effort when the enemy tends to stagger upright again.
The smart ones combine the two. They run and hide, think up a plan, and then they fight. And then they run again. Lather, rinse, and repeat.
Itachi sees his first zombie on his way back from school. It's an old woman- someone he's known since he was three, but she still tries to tear his throat out with her teeth. For the most part, Itachi's been too preoccupied with other things to do the proper teenage thing. But Shisui's always liked horror movies, and he recognizes the signs well enough to know that he should probably target her head.
He kills three more walking down his street -his aunt, his brother's elementary school teacher, and a pint sized little girl still dressed in her nightie- exchanges his violin case for a pipe he finds on the side of the road.
By the time he finally gets through the doors, he's prepared for his mother's gnashing teeth and his father's snarls. It's easy enough to silence them- easy to take the pipe and swing the way that Shisui had tried to teach him to when they were younger, when Itachi was still in Little League with him- before Itachi had discovered that he liked chemistry sets and sheet music more than baseball or soccer.
What isn't easy is seeing Sasuke amble around the corner, drooling red onto the hardwood floors- lips curled into a snarl. It's not easy and he can't- he can't-
Shisui finds him like that. He finds him feet away from the corpse of his little brother- his parents blood still wet on his hands and curls bloodied fingers into the crook of Itachi's elbow and tugs him out of Sasuke's grasping reach.
They leave. Shisui doesn't go back to finish off Itachi's little brother. Itachi's still not entirely sure if he's grateful for that or not.
.
When Shisui staggers back into their apartment he's grinning, nursing a bleeding wrist, and clutching tight to his bulging backpack. At first, when Itachi sees the blood his stomach turns over, stone-cold, his face going ashen. And then Shisui sees him, dark eyes going wide as he takes in Itachi's wary face and the death grip he has on his machete, and hurrying forward, endearments dripping from white teeth- reassurances. No, no, no, Itachi it wasn't them and Cut myself on the glass in the lobby and I swear, they didn't touch me and then, worst of all, you know I wouldn't risk coming back if they did.
Somehow that's worse, knowing that if the hordes of ravening, hungry, zombies below them had sunken their teeth into Shisui, he wouldn't have come back at all, leaving Itachi to forever wonder if he'd been ripped to shreds, forever dead, or if he'd come across Shisui shambling in the streets one day.
Logically, of course, not coming back if he'd been infected makes sense, but all the same Itachi fists shaking hands into Shisui's kevlar vest and drags him close.
They still kiss normally. It isn't always hot, heavy, and frantic, with clicking teeth and sloppy tongues and heaving chests, but it's always like this when one of them comes back. Sometimes they pour themselves into their bed, spending hours licking and caressing scarred and smooth flesh alike, but most of the time they don't make it that far- fucking against the wall with quiet, muffled groans; teeth clenching tight enough to bruise against knuckles, wrists, anything to quiet the sounds of their panicked lovemaking in case one of the creatures gets curious and makes it past their blockades.
It's only happened once, when they'd forgotten themselves and Shisui had pressed laughter into his skin. A couple of them had gotten past the first blockade in the lobby and up the stairs to the second- the door to their floor. Thankfully they hadn't gotten further, puzzled by both the door knob and the mess of debris behind it, and Shisui had taken care of them the next morning before Itachi had woken.
Only once, but the lesson had been learnt.
Afterwards, when Itachi wraps Shisui's bleeding wrist with the last of their bandages (they'll have to go out for more soon) and Itachi finally decides to ask what was in the bags, that crazy grin came back, and Shisui is off- dragging all the bags over to the mattress and happily dumping a heap of -of all things- Christmas decorations before him.
"It's Christmas tomorrow!" he says happily, rubbing his thumb over the scratched surface of a turquoise bauble and eying the rest with something like nostalgia. "I've been counting," he adds, as if that makes any difference.
Itachi stays quiet, because it's silly- the idea of worrying about something as silly as Christmas when the rest of the world is dead, dying, or dead and still walking around. But something about the way Shisui yanks old Christmas VHS' from his bag, chattering about how since the power's still on, the TV is still working and how for some reason the VCR is still functional despite the sorry state of the DVD player, they'll be able to watch some of them.
"I couldn't grab a lot. There weren't very many tapes at the store, but I grabbed a couple of my favorites."
He's still pawing through the bags, and though Itachi had begun to think he'd forgotten, he did remember the stuff he'd actually gone out for. He's got cans of food, a few perishables with expiration dates only dated for a few days ago, and tea. There's also the toilet paper and a few bottles of shampoo, bars of soap, and new toothbrushes, along with a tube of cinnamon toothpaste.
End of the world, but still concerned about hygiene. At least they got their stuff on discount.
.
He lets Shisui talk him into the decorations because he's right- fourteen floors up and zombies don't see all too well. The only thing that would see the decorations are other survivors.
So they string lights around the windows and across the ceiling, stars above their bed and blinking rainbow colored lights in the kitchen. They go overboard because they're the only ones in the building and with all the rest of the lights off they aren't about to trick the breaker and because no one is there to stop them. There's no one to tell them that their decorations looks silly, gaudy and probably a bit tacky. And, Itachi thinks, even if someone had been there to talk them out of it they still wouldn't listen.
They sleep in the glow of a hundred tiny lights, watching the stars blink above their bed. In a fit of extreme idiocy, Shisui sneaks out to unearth a small tree outside, somehow making it past the zombies skulking around the building and back up fourteen floors without damaging the thing too much.
It's stupid and reckless and makes Itachi want to throw him and the stupid sapling out the window, but Shisui is grinning triumphantly, flushed from exertion and really, beaming at both Itachi and the tree and it's impossible not to give in with a sigh and help him decorate the poor thing until it's straining under the weight.
They cook a small feast- a rare turkey that was still good that Shisui had pinched from the store, instant mashed potatoes, and canned corn and green beans. Then they slump together beneath their stars and watch ridiculous Christmas movies until the sun comes up, bickering about why Jingle All the Way is even worse than The Santa Clause and how they should have just stuck with the classics, finally putting in It's a Wonderful Life as Itachi is falling asleep against Shisui's shoulder.
When they wake up at midday, still full from the dinner, Itachi slides down Shisui's body- rides him slowly until they're both gasping and the closest to happy they've been since the first outbreak.
.
"Y'know," Shisui starts amicably, "it's snowing out there."
Itachi eyes the window, which is dusted with white and- if he squints, he can see the icicles forming on the upper ledge. Good, with any luck when they break, they'll split a zombie's head open. "I noticed," he says instead, still winding yarn up.
Shisui grins. "It's a perfect winter wonderland out there and we're stuck in here."
Itachi nods, ripping some yarn with his teeth. Stupid scarves. "The zombies really don't like it," Shisui continues, the grin turning wry. "It's hilarious, they're out there shaking like dogs- snapping at snowflakes. I actually saw one chase itself in a circle chasing some."
He sets the knitting down and stares. "...The roof's always an option," he says cautiously, because encouraging Shisui too much usually ends in disaster- like that time with the roses and that other time at the jewelry shop, but this- the roof really is safe, and there's sure to be snow up there.
Shisui lights up, laughing and leaning forward for a kiss.