lucetilogs | There'll be trouble when the kidz come out

[He doesn't need to tell Billy twice, that's for sure. Teddy's sudden lunge had surprised him, followed swiftly by a wave of pure relief - that Teddy's awake, he's okay, and he can move again - and he doesn't hesitate at all to turn tail and run when Teddy grabs for his wrist. His head is pounding, his body aching from the strain, and that same sharp pain rushes up his leg with every step, but he doesn't stop or even slow down. They need to get the hell out of there, find a safe place. At the very least put some distance between them and the hoarde.

He spaces a quick glance behind them, noting the abandoned supplies as the zombies begin to follow, the boxes soon eclipsed by stumbling legs and bloody, half-dead monstrosities. He curses under his breath and turns back, focusing his gaze on Teddy's back as they run. It was a waste, all of it - this trip, their search, the fight they'd just barely survived - and now they were empty-handed and on the run.

We never should've left the base.]

[Teddy would think that, too, if he could think of anything other than keep running, think of the promise, think of Billy. The grip on Billy's wrist was for himself just as much as Billy, to let himself know that he's got him.

It takes quite a bit of running, and Teddy just about stumbles again once or twice, but always gets back up. But finally, the zombies are out of sight, and he's sure they've ran and turned corners enough to lose them.

Still, just to make sure, Teddy finds a house, one that's still standing in the midst of all this chaos. He yanks the door open, pulls both he and Billy inside, and shuts the door.

It's about then that the adrenaline that kept him going suddenly drains out, leaving him to lean heavily against the door and slide down until he's sitting, eyes squeezed shut against the throb in his head. He wants to hold his head again, and it already feels like his senses are shutting down to recover.

But. But.]

You... You okay?

[As soon as the door shuts behind them, Billy too lets himself drop to his knees, gasping for breath, pulling his cloak tighter around his body like a blanket. His heart is beating so fast it feels like it's going to burst right out of his chest, and his leg is in agony- he'd fallen because it wouldn't hold his weight anymore once they'd stopped. He feels disgusting, tainted, his body soaked in sweat and blood and gore. He can feel his own blood soaking the leg of his uniform and seeping into the wood floor beneath him, though it's still hidden under his cloak, and he can't bring himself to move and look at it yet. They got away, and he wants to enjoy that small victory before he goes looking for more bad news.

He wants to answer Teddy, but he's still too out of breath, so he just huffs quietly, eyes clenched, and shakes his head. No, he's not okay. Nothing about this is okay.

But they're alive, so... that's something.]

[For the nth time, Teddy wishes he had his strength (he could've handled those zombies so much better), his shapeshifting (he could fly, take them and the supplies back), and his healing (he could heal from all of this and get them out of here) back. But no. He just sits, eyes clenched shut, unable to hear anything except the pounding of his heart and lungs and a high pitched whine thanks to his wound, and feeling pain everywhere, particularly his head and wrist.

You're pathetic, he thinks to himself. You can't even protect Billy.

This was mostly his fault. He'd been the one to suggest they fight rather than turn tail and leave right then, he was the one who tried to get to the supplies before more of them came, he was the one who couldn't get back up after getting knocked down. And now look at them. Holed up, tired and hurt and stressed, and he'd seen the blood, didn't think about it then but now, maybe, but -

You're pathetic.]

I'm... sorry. Sorry...

[That makes Billy wince, more than his injury or the constricting feeling in his chest from running too hard, too fast. Teddy blames himself.

He can't allow that.]

Don't... [He shudders, inhaling deeply to get some air in his lungs, and tries again.] Don't apologize. This was... my idea, remember? Not your fault...

[He does secretly wish that they'd managed to get those bandages, though. It's starting to feel like he's losing too much blood back there, Gingerly he lifts a corner of the cloak, muttering a quiet apology (shut up, he likes the cape) and pulling at two of the torn edges, carefully ripping off a long strip of the fabric. They can angst about their situation later; they'll need to continue their escape eventually, and they won't be able to do that if he bleeds out here.]

But...

[He could launch into an explanation and list how it is his fault but his mind doesn't feel like procuring so many words. So he leaves it at that, that one word which says just how much he still blames himself.

Instead, he lifts his hand to gingerly touch his temple, where it's still wet with blood, and finally opens his eyes to look. Yup... fingers came back red.

What the hell does he does with a bleeding wound.

It's more a half thought, something that's brushed aside easily. Especially when Billy has to tear apart that gorgeous cape, and he's instead focusing on the wound on his leg.

It's hard to tell, with that much blood, just what kind of wound it is. But Teddy stares hard at it, and he finds himself fearing the worst, which makes another feeling entirely balloon in his chest and completely eclipse the burn from running so much.]

Billy...

[Billy doesn't respond at first, too busy with the makeshift bandage. He tears off a few more strips, hating every moment of it but telling himself that it's fine, it's just fabric, and he can fix it later. What matters right now is Teddy and staying alive.

Only when he's satisfied with the amount of material he has to work with does he finally lift what's left of the cape to look at his leg, where he'd been attacked.

His silence is prolonged, then, as he stares at it. It's not the worst wound he's seen this week, by far, but there's a very distinct shape to it, and what's causing so much pain and bloodloss is the sizable chunk of flesh that's missing just beneath his knee, like it had been ripped right out of him.

Not ripped, though. Bitten.

His shaking begins at the shoulders, spreading slowly down his arms and right to his fingers, and the trembling is visible as he reaches for one of the bandages, leaning over just enough to lift his leg and start winding the material around the wound, biting back a whimper as it touches the open flesh. Biting. Ha. It's funny. Because he'd been bitten.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, he'd been... by a zombie, when they're so far from the base, out of reach from the proto-cure, locked in this house...

He inhales sharply, and it comes out as a strangled noise halfway between an empty laugh and a sob.]

H... ha... someone was... hungry...

[oh god oh god oh god]

[He can see it too, even with his own wound doing all kinds of wonderful things to his vision. Can hear the sounds Billy's making, even with the blood and heartbeat and his own heavy breathing clogging his hearing.

That, more than seeing Captain America so close to turning himself, more than feeling blood and gore splatter on him, makes him feel sick to his stomach, a feeling that spreads and makes his skin cold.

Bitten. Billy had been bitten by a zombie. They're so far from the base and the proto-cure, they're possibly stuck here, and - Teddy doesn't even care about the fact that he's here with someone who'll probably want nothing more than to eat him in a few hours. All he cares about is the fact that this is Billy, the one person he loves more than anyone and anything else in the world, and he'd just been bitten, and rather than wanting to eat him, he'll be losing himself in a few hours. It might be him that Teddy will have to fight just like the other zombies out there.

And Billy's starting to panic and think the worst, he can tell. So, despite his body telling him to do the exact opposite, Teddy pushes himself off of the wall and crawls over to his boyfriend, uncaring of the weight he puts against his wrist or the drip drip drip of his own blood. Once there, he wraps his arm around Billy's shoulders to support him and hold him up while he wraps the bandage around his leg. He could just state the obvious, and it's on the tip of his tongue, "You've been bitten." But he holds it back.

He lifts his other hand, now slightly swollen thanks to so much use, and touches Billy's cheek, just the same way that his boyfriend did for him when his mother died.]

... Billy. I'll get us back to the base. They're still working on the cure, they're closer to it now than they were before.

[Ugh. He wants to say more, but again, his mind ran out of words way too fast.]

[Rather than feeling reassured by the touch, Billy flinches, bloody hands lifting to push Teddy backwards, sidling away and out of reach, eyes wide and full of panic.]

Don't- don't touch me, Teddy! They- they got me, I'm infected, I don't want- you have to stay back...!

[His mind is racing, trying desperately to cling to logic, rational thought, how to deal with this situation, anything that keeps him human. Zombies don't care about infecting other people, zombies don't care about blood mixing with blood, or tainted injuries, or the fact that he's become nothing more than danger to Teddy right now. Wounds need to be dealt with first. Clean them, bind them, get the hell out of here, find help...

...he doesn't want to lose his mind to this. He doesn't want to become one of them.

More than that, though- now that he's infected, now that he's doomed to either the same illness that's plagued Pepper and countless others for days, or that shambling, mindless fate... he has to keep Teddy from sharing it.]

[The shove, while probably only supposed to push him back a bit, manages to knock Teddy off balance and make him have to catch himself on the floor. Not because Billy's stronger; no, Teddy's just weaker, much more lightheaded. He probably has all the blood to blame on that. He should probably try stopping it.

So while he gets back up, he unwraps the already frayed and dirty bandage from his wrist, figuring that his head needs it much more right now.]

Billy - Billy, you're still you. [He'd like to move forward and brush his cheek, but better to respect Billy's wishes for now and keep his distance. If only to get his focus on other things, like calming him down and getting his bleeding to stop.] You haven't turned yet - We still have a few hours. We can make it back in that time.

That's... that's not what I-

[Billy cuts off his own words, chewing nervously on his lip, and edges away again, getting back to wrapping the fabric around his leg. He wants to help Teddy with his own injuries, but he can't risk it yet, not with infected blood all over his fingers and Teddy's open wound right there. Teddy's right, of course- he's still himself. They've... got time. But that doesn't mean they can be careless. Be logical, focus on rationalizing the problem, deal with it, it'll be fine...

With his leg half-bound, he finally responds in a quiet voice. He'll have to use words until he can sort out a way to help Teddy for real.]

D... don't move too much, okay? Put pressure on the wound... and lie down if you feel dizzy. You gotta stay awake, though. I'm gonna try to find some clean water.

[He gives his bandages one last tug, stubbornly ignoring his own hiss of pain, and pushes against the wall to lift himself up to his feet. It hurts, it hurts a lot, but a head injury is serious stuff. He needs to stay calm, put aside his own issues and fears for the moment. He can freak out when Teddy's okay.]

Billy...

[Whereas Teddy would rather deal with Billy's issues and fears and his wound before dealing with his own, but that's also, well... a bit idiotic. He's bleeding pretty heavily, and Billy's got infected blood all over his hands. He can't help Billy until he himself is okay, and it looks like Billy's realized that too.

So he follows his advice; He wraps the bandage around his head, though he can only wrap it around two times before he ties it against the wound, then presses his hand against the knot, ignoring the cringe on his face and how pressure just made him want to lie down and, against Billy's orders, pass out. At least the pain would be gone.

But no, there's no way he's sleeping now. It's evening, and he's tired, but at the same time, he's wide awake. With knowledge that Billy's infected, with his own head injury, with zombies somewhere outside...

He does, at least, lean on his good arm while keeping his other hand over the wound. Hopefully he's doing this right.]

[Once he makes it to his feet - and casts a quick glance in Teddy's direction to make sure he's awake and tending to himself properly - Billy limps away from the wall, shuffling his way through the house until he finds a kitchen. They're fortunate enough to have found a house that's reasonably stocked, apparently (so their luck isn't all bad today, just mostly), and although the water coming from the sink is murky and foul-tasting, there's a few abandoned bottles of water hidden under the sink, and half of one in the ice box, along with - mercifully - shards of ice in a puddle of half-melted ones. Small mercies.

Hands trembling, he strips off his blood-soaked gloves and uses the murky water to wash away the worst of the blood, then a bit of the bottled water and some soap to get them clean. Two clean bowls and two clean cloths (clean, clean, everything's so clean, like they're not covered in blood, like the world around them isn't going all to hell), and they've got themselves a full sanitation kit. Hopefully, hopefully, it'll be enough.

He takes a moment to scoop up some of the leftover ice in the freezer, tossing it into a bagand wrapping that in a thin dish towel. Finally he scours the house looking for food, but finds nothing but a can of sliced peaches in a kitchen apparently devoid of a can opener. Lovely. Though the fact that he can come up with sarcastic internal monologue about canned peaches gives him some small reassurance that he is very much still himself.

And that's how he returns to Teddy: still limping, still bleeding, but with clean hands, a bowl of soapy water, bottled water that is nothing short of a godsend, and some ice. And a tiny ounce of recovered confidence. He crouches with some difficulty, sets down the bowl, then just lets himself flop clumsily next to the blond, shuddering. Okay, okay. He can do this. No dying today.]

Mm... Teddy? You still with me?

[Teddy is still there, of course, his ears still buzzing and his head still hurting like hell. The footsteps are what get his attention first, and he opens his eyes, though one stays slightly squinted due to the fact that it hurts to open it, so close to the wound. It's a relief to see Billy, still him, like Teddy hasn't utterly failed him yet. And - And he won't. He won't. He's getting them both out. He...

Nngh.]

I sure wish I could be somewhere else with you, but yeah. Yeah, I'm with you.

[He sits up a little more upon seeing the supplies, murmuring something about San Fransisco. See, he'd like to be there with Billy.]

[Billy tries to smile, fails, then winces and shifts closer, gently nudging the bandage Teddy had wrapped around his head wound and pressing the clean cloth against it, letting the water soak up the drying blood there. San Francisco, seriously? He must really be out of it...

All the more reason to focus on him as long as he can.]

I got some ice... first we've gotta get this wound treated properly, though. Geez, haven't you ever bandaged a cut before...?

[As if the answer - or the reason - wasn't obvious. It's a weak attempt at banter, little more than a distraction from the situation they've ended up in, but it's the best he can do right now.]

[Banter works. He can do banter, especially considering the fact that, no matter how gentle Billy's trying to be, he still winces when the wound is touched. Getting his mind off of that, and the situation they've found themselves in, would be a blessing right about now.]

Never saw the point when it just went away in a minute or two.

When we get out of here, you should take a first aid lesson or something. Might do us both some good.

[Billy shakes his head a little, continuing to gently dab away at the wound until it looks acceptably clean. Once that's finished, he retrieves the bandage, untying it and winding it back around Teddy's injury, keeping the pressure firm but not too tight.]

[Teddy lets his mouth quirk up in a smile, a strained one, but one all the same. It does sound like a good idea, taking up first aid. Maybe he can actually help Billy when he gets hurt in battle, then.]

Think you could teach me?

Shouldn't you be asking an expert for something like that?

[Billy scoffs quietly, finishing with the bandage and fetching the bag of ice, holding it up against Teddy's temple. It doesn't feel like there's much of a lump yet, but if his head keeps hurting, the ice should help a little. Even if they don't have much of it, it's better than nothing.]

I only know the basic stuff, you'd be better off asking a doctor to teach you...

[The ice certainly helps, and Teddy reaches up to press his hand against it - and cover Billy's hand as well. Though it still hurts, he already feels better. Billy definitely knows what he's doing, and...

Honestly, if it weren't for him, Teddy probably would've died twice in just an hour. Jeez.]

Yeah, and I'm completely clueless. I think I ought to learn the basics first. You know about my... thing.

[After all, how is he supposed to learn first aid if people assume he's like a normal person and actually had a cut in his life or even wore a band-aid?]

[Billy pauses at the touch, his gaze drifting to where their hands are joined. Truth be told, he's still cautious and frightened, but... well, he'd cleaned up, and he's not sure he can just quit touching Teddy cold turkey (ha, like it's an addiction). He'd been craving that touch again, to feel his boyfriend's skin against his own, to draw in that warmth and comfort. In the end, that's what keeps him from pulling away, instead just biting his lip and settling in beside Teddy, shoulder to shoulder. At least the bite's on his leg- that's easy enough to keep away from Teddy's injury.]

Your "thing"? That's what we're calling it now?

[There's a dirty joke to be made there.]

[Teddy can readily admit that touching Billy is like an addiction for him as well. He'd been a little afraid that Billy would pull away, but he doesn't, much to his relief. So he shuts his eyes and smiles, a genuine one, for a moment, his thumb passing gently over his boyfriend's knuckles. It's a gesture of comfort, and it's something of one for him, too. Billy's still alive, still himself, and maybe he can keep his promise.

...

But then he opens his eyes and glances at Billy with a raised eyebrow.]

Better than The Thing.

[If you were thinking of a dirty joke, just like Teddy was right after saying that, then enjoy that fantastic mental image, bf.]

[Oh augh, augh. Thanks for nothing, Altman.

In response to that, Billy sets free a "huff" sound that is almost akin to a laugh, or as much of one as he can muster at the moment. He closes his eyes, his fingers brushing against Teddy's, his expression self-indulgent and a little bit needy. He remains quiet besides that single noise for a long moment, soaking in the affection, before he lifts his head, looking more serious and more than a little unsure.]

Listen, T... we've gotta take about how to deal with this. We both know what's going to happen if we don't get back to the base in time, so... we need a plan. And probably some ground rules, while we're at it.

[It's a small laugh, and a small wonder, especially at a time like this. That's enough for him.

Teddy remains quiet during that time, shutting his eyes and keeping their fingers touching. They're probably wasting time, he knows that... but they both need this right now. This affection between them, this sense of comfort. But they can't spend forever doing this, and they need a plan.

Thankfully Billy brings it up before he can, and Teddy opens his eyes to listen, before reaching out his other hand to entwine his fingers with his boyfriend's free ones. Time to get serious.]

Yeah. We have to keep moving, even if we run out of time. If... [He lets out a breath a little more forcefully than the others, the only sign he gives of how much this tears him up inside.] If that happens, then I'll knock you out and take you with me. Does that sound okay to you? I want you to have a say in this too.

And here I was thinking I'd just eat your brains and join a pack.

[Billy's scowl makes his answer as obvious as the words themselves, masking his fear. He needs that sarcasm like he needs air, to stay sane- to stay himself. He needs to believe that he can't change so quickly.

And being very much a realist is a part of that, too.]

Look at us, Ted... I can't run, and you can barely stand. We need to gather our strength or we'll both get eaten alive out there.

[But there's no time for that- the most they had is 12 hours, and he'd seen how weak and sickly those who were bitten became in that time. They can't have it both ways.]

...We need help.

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