The Dead Don't Bleed

Wait

Word Count: 2,473

It was quiet for a long time after that.

Lance donated his shirt to help contain the bleeding for now, but there was no mistaking the multiple bite marks marking Shiro's skin. Despite all of his thoughts convincing himself that everything was going to be fine, he knew Shiro was going to Turn, and soon.

Keith's flashbacks seemed to be as worse as ever, there were three different times he found himself sitting on the cot because he had apparently "blacked out" in Hunk's words, and after noticing that it always seemed to only happen when Keith was tending to Shiro, they shortly realized that it would be a better idea if they took turns helping instead of Keith doing it all on his own.

As for Shiro himself, he didn't look so good, and that was putting it lightly.

To start off, he was pale, too pale, but whether it was from the blood loss or something else entirely, Keith wasn't yet sure. That single zombie had taken at lot from him, Shiro was missing a good chunk of skin from his forearm, that being the main source of blood loss and pain, and Hunk had almost lost his dinner upon seeing it. On top of the multiple bites he had gotten, there were also deep gouges from where the thing had dug its nails into his skin to try to get closer to biting Shiro. Keith was also pretty sure he was suffering from a concussion from when the man that had slammed him in the back of the head earlier to get him to lose his balance.

With a whimpering sigh, Shiro's eyelids slipped closed again, and Keith lightly shook him to get him back awake, "Come in, Shiro, you can't fall asleep on me, please."

Shiro just muttered some incoherent sentence before opening his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling without another word. His eyes looked unfocused, and tired, but Keith knew, as much as Shiro wanted to sleep, he couldn't risk it, they couldn't risk anything right now.

His eyes went back down to where he knew the worst of his injuries were, and his stomach churned when Chyra's death made its way to the front of his mind.

"You know you have to, Keith. You- you promised-"

"But I didn't think it'd be me, okay?" His words came out in an angered rush, and he could feel it take hold of him. "I don't want to kill you, you can't expect me to- not after all we've been through-"

"But, Keith-"

"No. No! I can't do it, Chyra, I'm sorry, but you can't just expect me to be the one to-" he dug his fingers frustratingly into his hair as his sentence ended nothing but deep breaths that he couldn't stop. His heart was back to hammering into his ribcage and he didn't know how to make it stop.

Why couldn't he stop it?

"Keith, please," he looked back at her to see her own eyes wet with tears, "please," she repeated, "I don't want to Turn."

At those words, he bit his lip, hands shaking as he forced himself to curl his fingers around the handle and pulled it up to aim, his hands shaking.

A single sob escaped his lips as her breathing even out into a steady rhythm. She closed her eyes, waiting for the bullet to come, "I- I'm sorry, Chyra, I'm so, so sorry."

She only smiled, the gesture soft and sad.

Keith closed his own eyes and with a final breath, pulled the trigger.

A bang echoed.

He was alone again.

"Keith, please, ... I don't want to Turn." Her words echoed in his head, and he excused himself back to the cot to lie down, his stomach churning as he placed his head in his hands, trying to pull himself back to the present.