(I'm really sorry this has taken so long to update...! The Zephzo angst AU (Tattooed Mistakes) based off Limelight should be starting on Halloween~ I've been focused on getting the Limelight one-shots out that provide the build-up to that but I want Another Way to be finished before then, so expect the final chapter very soon! And maybe I'll be able to return to the series fic in a short while...
Kind of a short chapter today, but some Good Bonzo stuff nonetheless. Friday is Bonzo Day. At least on Tumblr it is
There's some references to the Beyond the Barrier one-shot Closed Doors in here. Bonzo's full "conversation" with his parents is in that~)
Three days.
Three days in zombie containment. And Bonzo barely spoke a word the whole time. This was possibly the worst shutdown he had ever experienced, and being separated from his friends only made it worse. He had no comfort, no distraction, no music to listen to, no paints or paper or fabric, nothing to stim with and ground him. And no Bree.
Breeska...
He could barely remember the incident. The only thing he had been thinking about at the time was... brains. He didn't know what it meant that he decided Bree was the perfect victim, but he wasn't going to let himself consider that she was his first thought in that situation could be a good thing. That wasn't a moment where he should be thinking of her. Once he had been shocked into sentience by the zombie patrol's taser, he immediately regretted everything. It hadn't even been his fault, but that didn't matter when he had come so very close to hurting Bree. He dreaded to imagine what might have happened if the patrol didn't show up when they did. Even so, he knew he didn't deserve to be there, locked in a cell in Seabrook's zombie containment facility. He couldn't blame Zed, either. He may not have listened to Bonzo's warnings against adjusting his Z-band, but it was the cheerleaders who pushed them off the deep end, manipulating and stealing from Eliza to do it. And there was nothing they could do about it now.
Bonzo sat there alone for three days. He didn't even look at the patrol officers who would come in for their regular inspections or to bring him food, which he couldn't even eat half the time. It wasn't right.
Nothing was right.
- ANOTHER WAY –
"Cheerleaders steal my computer, sabotage everything, yet zombies get the blame," Eliza ranted, Zed staring at her and Bonzo looking down. He still hadn't spoken, but at least he was with them again and he could follow their conversation well enough, "It was stupid of us to think humans were gonna change."
No, it wasn't. Some of them did change.
"You know what? We tried doing it the nice way, now it's time to do it my way, alright? We'll have a zombie uprising!"
That could make things worse.
"Force them to make us equal or we tear it all down."
And make them even more afraid of us.
"I've been waiting my whole life. I'm sick of waiting."
She stormed off, into her mother's welcoming arms. Bonzo swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded to Zed, patting his back as he turned away. He didn't even want to be hugged right now, it would only overwhelm his still-fragile senses. He watched as Zed's dad hurried outside to berate his son, quickly holding him close. That anger came out of love and concern.
Why couldn't Bonzo's home have that same warmth?
There was no-one waiting to greet him outside when he arrived. Their son had been gone for three days and they didn't even come to the front door. And he hadn't expected them to. Inside, there was no welcome home hugs, no relief in their voices, just demanding details and judging his every flaw.
"What happened?"
"English, please, Bonzo. You have a working Z-band, you can speak English."
"Look at your mother when she's talking to you."
"Don't ignore me."
"Stop making excuses."
"A zombie cannot have autism."
There was no way he'd be able to talk to them like this. He retrieved his art case from upstairs and left the house. He didn't go far, not even past the end of the driveway, and went to work venting out his frustrations in another art project. The one good thing he took from the conversation was that he had found his voice again, though he was still just semi-verbal, so when Zed appeared, at least he could talk a little with him.
"Sorry I dragged you into this mess."
"Gra'zon ru grep." You couldn't help it.
Bonzo hugged Zed tightly, letting go and changing his position when he accidently squeezed his injured arm too hard, then put on his mask again and turned back to the piece he was working on. So far, it wasn't much more than a large wooden block spray-painted white, and not even completely white yet. He picked up the can to continue and Zed watched.
"What's it gonna be?"
Bonzo's voice was slightly muffled by the mask but Zed managed to make out what he was saying, "Zon garzedd-zig, zet," I still don't know, "Magra, grozig zer-garzand?" Maybe something to do with Z-bands?
Zed looked away.
"Zon ru bragan. Grep, greh." I don't blame you. It just helps.
He kept working in silence with Zed observing until the base coat was done, then it would have to stand and dry for a while. He tugged the mask down so it hung around his neck and leaned back on his hands.
"Elizaka grodge?" Is Eliza OK?
"Not really," Zed shook his head, frowning, "I tried to talk to her but she wouldn't even let me into her room... She sounded like she'd been crying."
"Gaz..." Wow...
"She just needs some time."
Bonzo nodded, his eyes fixed on the ground. He sat thinking for a moment, "... Breeska, Addiska, zet," he slowly lifted his head to look at Zed again, "Agru zon zorog z'agz." They weren't scared of us.
"Yeah..."
"Bak, zrag gezer." But we need more.
"What more can we do now? Besides Eliza's big 'zombie uprising' idea?"
- ANOTHER WAY –
A purge on all zombie allies. Every human who still supported them was being cut from the cheer squad. Addison had tried to talk to her cousin but he wouldn't listen. It was worse than before – Bucky was practically becoming a tyrant at this point. She slammed the door of the cheer lounge behind her and walked over to Bree.
"Any luck?"
"Nope. And he's kicked more than half the squad out."
Bree sighed and shook her head, folding her arms, "Not to insult your family, Addy, but he has lost it. How is he expecting to win the competition like this?"
"Look, at this point," Addison held up a hand, "You can insult my family all you want. Especially Bucky. I almost thought he might actually be reconsidering his feelings about the zombies after Zed stopped himself, now I don't know what's going on with him."
There was a pause while they both stood, lost in their own thoughts, until Bree slowly turned back to Addison, "Do you think the boys are OK?" she asked, her voice thick with concern and Addison mirrored her worried expression.
"I hope so."
"Do you know if they're out of containment yet?"
"Yeah, I heard my dad talking on the phone this morning. The Z-bands got an update so they couldn't be hacked anymore."
"That's good, right?"
Bree knew that was a good thing, it meant there was no danger of something like this happening again, but the mention of the hack sparked her memory. Hacking the bands, through some means she didn't know of (yet), had apparently led to Bonzo learning about his autism. She had spent the last couple of days doing a little research and it really did explain so much about Bonzo – how he had panicked during the Z-alert the day they met, his extreme passion for his art and music, the adorably awkward interactions and even why he only ever spoke in Zombie despite knowing English. It felt like she'd finally unlocked that door and now she really could know him, and even better, understand him.
She had to wonder how well he had managed to cope with being locked up in zombie containment these past three days. It must be hard enough for anyone just being there, but Bonzo would have had to deal with his own mental struggles on top of all that.
"I think so," Addison said, stirring Bree from her thoughts, "They should be coming back to school soon."
- ANOTHER WAY –
"Starting tomorrow, you all will be transferred back to Zombie Town's school until further notice."
Principal Lee's voice still rang in Bonzo's head loud and clear the following morning. He and Zed had tried all day to talk to Eliza but it was like she was avoiding them. She stuck with Topaz, Zora and Lazlo instead and that alone worried Bonzo. Those three were notorious for pushing every boundary they came across, Topaz in particular, and it was obvious they had some kind of plan up their sleeves.
He was quiet as he sifted through his locker, carefully tucking away all his sheet music and trying to just be thankful he ever made it onto the music program at all. He'd had a good run and he had good memories, though nothing compared to the first time he stepped foot in the music room – with Bree. He shut the door of the now-empty locker, sighed and pressed his forehead against it, letting the pressure and the coolness of the metal calm him. Then he turned around to lean back on the lockers and looked down at the note in his hand, the last thing he had taken out: the note that Bree had Rachel pass onto him when they couldn't see each other in person. He had put it up on the back of the door as a reminder that she was always cheering for him.
She still is, isn't she?
At the homecoming game, after it had all fallen apart, Bree had wanted to talk to him, to be near him. Of course she was. She had to be.
Eliza hadn't shown up that morning. Bonzo slipped the note into the pocket of his art case and went to open his friend's locker. He knew her combination.