"Even if you are but a small speck in a sea of catatonia, I will dive into the depths as far as Mariana's Trench and I will find you. I will find you." ~(Breaking Jade - Quil Carter)
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Helping him undress, Chester notices the outline of Parker's ribs, the sharp angles on his sickly grey-tinged body. His brow creases with worry. When was the last time he ate?
Chester bathes Parker with a gentle hand, charily, washing the layers of filth away, and trying to ignore the pale scars against his shoulder in the shape of teeth marks.
Parker keeps falling asleep in the bathtub and blinks awake when water cascades over his head to rinse out passion fruit scented shampoo. The water turns a reddish brown color, with small bits of floating tissue and bone fragments that had clung to his tousled dark curls.
Parker is stronger than he looks, inhumanly so. He's unconsciously grabbed Chester's wrist when he'd raised it to wash dried blood stained around his mouth. Chester gasps and drops the sponge. "Parker.. l-let go."
He whimpers when the grip tightens, and Parker can feel delicate bones grind together, a quickening pulse. Warm flesh. "Bro, Parker please, let me go." Chester's voice cracks at the end when a pair of bloodshot eyes snap open, their pupils large and crazed. They find their reflection within the smooth surface of sunglasses.
Seconds tick by. Slowly, Parker relinquishes the hold and lets his hand fall with a faint splash into murky water. Chester pulls back with a grimace, staring at the darkening spots that now encircles his wrist.
"Um, dude, when was the last time you.." Slept? Killed and ate someone? Before he can get the proper words out, Parker nods off and falls asleep again. Which is kinda cute, but also unnerving. Chester looks to the side, bottom lip between his teeth, briefly toying with the idea of just leaving his former friend in the tub, exiting the bathroom, locking the door and getting out of the house.
It'd be so easy. Leaving all of this behind. His new burden. His mistake. But one look at the boy infront of him, with soapy bubbles sliding down clean skin, appearing so peaceful and serene as he slumbers; guilt surges up and gnaws away at Chester's insides like a ravenous parasite.
Even if it means potentially risking his life, he feels obligated to take care of his best friend. It's the least he can do. And dammit, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't lonely.
With that decided, Chester gets up and makes his way into the master bedroom to rummage around for clothes that might fit. It's the size of a spacious living room, an armoire, walnut dresser, and walk-in closet give a wide selection to choose from.
The eerie silence throughout the house slowly creeps up like a spidery hand on the back of his neck, so Chester quietly hums to himself to distract from the uncomfortable feeling.
In his lap, folded neatly, are a fresh pair of socks, boxer briefs, a brand new pair of sweatpants, and a black T-shirt. Satisfied, Chester carries them down the hall, unconsciously slowing as the bathroom nears. Forgotten family portraits hang in their places on the wall, watching with blank stares.
If the dead live on through memory- in a world where everyone has lost their mind- does that mean they are truly dead? Is everything just a ghost now? What a depressing thought. It's a thought that has his fingers digging against soft fabric, seeking some form of comfort. He focuses instead on the task at hand.
The heavy silence returns full force and Chester can't explain why his heart is beating so fast all of a sudden.
Inhaling a deep breath, he pushes past his mounting anxiety and turns into the bathroom.
Parker is there as he left him. A sigh of relief.
Dressing someone, it turns out, is way harder than undressing them. Especially when that someone is a 6ft tall, drowsy, (and slightly cranky) zombie. Which should make him worried, being so close to one. But Chester can't find it in himself to care, not when Parker looks so normal without all the blood and grime. So ..innocent.
He also can't stop blushing with embarrassment and tries to avert his gaze as much as possible, lip nearly bleeding with how much he's been biting it. The crush he has on the other boy never went away, but he can't think too much in that direction without his heart constricting painfully.
Finally, Chester gets the shirt over his head and his arms through the sleeves when he hears Parker mumble something sleepily.
"Huh?" He looks up, shocked, and leans closer to hopefully catch something else. Did he just speak? Parker's bleary eyes slip closed and he slumps forward, his head colliding against Chester's with an audible thunk. "Ow! Jeez.." His teeth clenches in pain as he rubs the sore spot.
"Come on," he sighs and slings a cold limp arm over his shoulders to help his friend into the bedroom.
~~~
Chester sits cross-legged and hugs a pillow to his chest as he studies the sleeping form, laying stiff as a corpse on the other side of the bed. It's almost easy to convince himself nothing's changed. But upon further inspection, his heart sinks lower and something crawls up his esophagus, stopping halfway to form a stubborn lump.
Parker's naturally tanned skin had turned ashy and thin. A network of blue and green veins branches underneath, traveling up the length of his neck, purpled by plague and nearly appearing black the farther up it went. The imperceptible rise and fall of his chest is uneven, stuttering, as if his heart and lungs are struggling to function properly.
Chester squeezes his pillow and tries to fight the rising panic as he realizes that everything has changed.
His throat is so clogged with emotion that it's painful to swallow. It's also difficult to tear his eyes away, but a part of Chester wants to punish himself with the sight of his best friend. Look at what you did, his mind hisses venomously and Chester buries his face in the pillow, wanting to scream.
I can't change anything, okay? He counters, what's done is done.. I just have to focus on making the best out of our situation.
And what will you do when he wakes up? That part of his brain demands.
Chester lifts his head to sneak another glance and immediately regrets it. He ducks back down and doesn't answer because he doesn't know ..but figures he'll find out soon enough.
~~
(Words: 1,180)
A/N
In this world, 'zombies' can pass out/sleep from lack of energy if they haven't eaten in a long time because their sick bodies need sustenance and fuel. They can sleep for a long, long time, to recoup, if that is what their bodies demand.
•••
The bath scene is the first thing I wrote that inspired this entire story🖤
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