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It was dark. Gloomy. The sky looked like it’d start raining at any moment, and Jean prayed it didn’t. There was nothing worse than running in the mud. Especially not now.
Not with the man he loved slumped over with an arm slung around his shoulder, barely able to just weakly stagger alongside the taller man. He felt him slowly slip off his shoulder, tumbling to the ground in a large, bloody heap and letting out a moan of pain.
“Shit, Armin…” Carefully, he kneeled next to him and scooped him up off the ground, practically cradling him in his arms as he rose to his feet. Armin just clung to his neck, whimpering.
His ankle was swollen, the skin around the bite a sickly purple color, and Jean prayed that the hospital had someone left alive inside that could help him, because Armin really wasn’t doing good.
When it had happened, the corpse had latched onto the man’s leg, digging it’s teeth into his skin and pulling back, tearing off a mouthful of his flesh and muscle. Jean couldn’t stand hearing the screech that Armin let out, seeing the way he collapsed and sobbed, desperately kicking at the creature’s head until Jean managed to pry it off and bash it’s skull in with his rifle. It probably would’ve been a lot easier and quicker to just shoot the damned thing, but he didn’t want to attract every other corpse in the vicinity with the gunshot.
Besides - he wanted it to suffer for hurting Armin.
Armin let out a choked cough, squeezing his eyes shut and holding onto the brunette tighter. “Jean… It hurts,” He gasped out, swallowing hard and staring up at the grey sky. It practically spelled out ‘doom’.
“Don’t worry, Ar. We’re almost there.” Jean tried his best to comfort him, letting out a breath that he didn’t even know he’d been holding in when he reached the glass doors. They had been practically shattered, and he could see that bodies littered the tile of the empty waiting room, most half eaten and with a gunshot to the head.
It definitely wasn’t a good sign, but at that point, it was the only place they could go. The blonde was already bordering death. His skin was drenched in sweat and burning hot, and he was deathly pale, and Jean swore that those familiar blue eyes - the ones that were always so filled with life - that he’d fallen in love with, were empty. Cold. Almost like Armin had given up.
“I don’t like this, Jean… It’s not safe.” He managed to whisper, his voice hoarse and dry. It stung to talk - which was probably from the way he’d screamed when he was bitten. He glanced around the darkened hallways, which were full of blood and bodies. The walls were stained a dark crimson, and the floor was covered in glass and blood. Medical supplies littered the floor, and there were multiple hospital beds just abandoned in the middle of the walkway.
Armin started counting how many times the lights flickered.
One.
“We need to go… Something’s wrong here.”
Two.
“Armin, calm down.”
Three.
“I don’t think you should go down that way…”
Four.
“Nothing’s going to-,”
And then it went dark.
Silence.
And then the lights came back on.
Armin choked back a scream at the sight. Corpses were shuffling down the halls, bumping into each other and the walls. There was a pile on the floor, tearing at some limp body and stuffing handfuls of flesh into their mouths.
“... Oh fuck.” And that’s when they heard them. Slowly, they turned their heads to stare at the pair, before stumbling to their feet and lunging. There was a scream. The lights flickering. A door slamming. A lock turning. Armin couldn’t tell if the scream was his - but it probably was.
It was dark, and he heard a lot of fumbling around before the light got flicked on. The bulb hung from the ceiling, dimly lighting up what seemed like a janitor’s closet, with a little chain hanging down from it.
Jean carefully lay his lover on the ground, frantically turning to look at the shelves and pulling a huge pile of fabric - hospital gowns - from it, stuffing them under Armin’s head as a pillow. He yanked another one from the shelves, quickly tying it around the wound on the smaller man’s leg in a pointless attempt to slow the loss of blood.
“I’m sorry, Ar, I’m so sorry,” He sobbed out, desperately peppering a few kisses across his face. This was all his fault. If he had just stayed closer to Armin, he wouldn’t have gotten bitten. Gently, he brushed a strand of blonde hair away from his eyes, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, His fingers had spread blood across Armin’s skin, tainting his oh-so-pretty face with it’s tragedy. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
Armin took in a shaky breath, gagging on his own spit and groaning in agony. “Shhhh… Jean. Don’t-,” He paused, choking for a few seconds before rolling onto his side, heaving and spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Don’t blame yourself…” He rasped, turning over again and reaching a hand up to caress his partner’s cheek.
Jean’s eyes widened in fear and he shook his head desperately, clutching at the fragile, shaking hand that Armin placed on his face and kissing the back of it. God, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Armin didn’t deserve this. This wasn’t supposed to be a tragedy. “I can’t. I love you, Ar. God, I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you, Jean… You meant everything to me.” He cracked a smile, before his entire body shuddered and he started gasping for air, shaking violently and barely managing to whisper, “It hurts.”
Before he went limp.
“Armin…” The man whispered, trying to hold back the tears that inevitably started to stream down his cheeks. “Don’t you do this. Don’t you fucking dare.” He shouted, squeezing his hand and starting to desperately shake him. “You can’t leave me, Ar! We were supposed to do this together! We were going to get through this!” His hands clutched at his lover’s lifeless body, shaking him and practically wailing. “You can’t do this to me!”
The only sound in the tiny closet was Jean’s sobs. Corpses were banging on the door and he could hear their animalistic growls from just outside the door, but he didn’t care. After what seemed like hours, Jean went quiet, just holding the fragile, limp corpse of Armin in his arms.
Then it happened. Armin moved, grunting and taking in a few shaky breaths. His eyes slowly opened and Jean swallowed hard, looking down at his face with a soft coo of his name. Those eyes weren’t Armin’s. They were grey and cold. Soulless. Dead. Glazed over.
That wasn’t Armin.
Slowly, Jean reached into his coat, pulling out the handgun as he felt Armin’s hands start clawing at his shoulders. He watched the way his mouth opened and shut again, as though he was trying to gnaw at something that wasn’t there.
“I’m so sorry, baby… I love you, Armin. I love you so much.” His hands were shaking as he pressed the gun to his lover’s - or what used to be his lover’s - forehead and squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled the trigger. Blood and brain matter was splattered across the cold tile floor and the used-to-be white walls. The corpses outside seemed to hear and get more determined, their growls growing louder and the door giving a creak. It was going to break soon.
He loaded another bullet into the gun, letting out a sigh and slowly putting it to his mouth. "I’m so sorry, Armin." A tear slid down his cheek and he pulled the trigger.
That was when it went black.