Chapter Text
Michael looked at the desecrated rubble. He and Ghostface, whoever was under the mask this day, had been collecting resources for the others. Today, they got a considerable amount of food after running into a family doing the same. They had been quickly put to rest, and they had to move from the bodies in case an ambush of zombies came their way.
“We should get going. You should know that more than I.” Ghostface, it was clear that they had gotten impatient. He palmed the knife that he held, now covered in decaying guts and brain. They had enough supplies to last a month.
They both swiftly looked in the direction of the noise, weapons raised, and slowly entered the alleyway. A small gray cat appeared next to a zombie..?
It didn’t matter if they were to have that cat; they’d need to kill him.
Jason eyed the two, clearly humans, as they both had on masks. He didn’t want them to kill the kitten; he just saw the rest of its family get eaten alive. He couldn’t let them take it. He stood up and made a warning slash, causing a line to be made on the beaten concrete. Clearly, the two were on the slower side. Thought Jason, why else would they go over the line? Jason grabbed the kitten and held it right over his heart, earning a curious head tilt from one, which he did back. It was oddly endearing? But he still needed to keep the kitten safe, just in case they wanted it to be their next meal.
Michael watched in wonder as the zombie kept babying the kitten, after it made a few pitiful meows to get the bulk’s attention. The zombie was acting like a human. It was clear that it had a little bit of human capability. He wondered if he could have it on his team.
‘Can you sign or speak?’ Michael gestured towards the undead. Making it have a little gasp. It lowered its weapon and even put the kitten into its pocket.
‘I can sign, didn’t think anyone who could was left standing.’ Michael was now awestruck. But it was getting late, and no one wants to be out at night with the zombies. So, Michael did the most logical thing, picking up whoever was the zombie, bridal style, and walking to the bunker.
“Hey, I know the dude has common sense of a human, but are you sure we should bring him into the base? Who knows what’ll happen…” Ghostface spoke, eying the ball of muscle in his comrade's arms.
Michael thought, and then slowly nodded, walking towards the bunker with his friend by his side.
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With Freddy screaming at him on why he bought a ‘brain-eating mother fucking low life’. He couldn’t focus on repairing the old machine gun Ghostface found a while back. So he promptly punched him square in his face. And went to where the zombie was being contained.
Michael walked through the door, entering the white room that was all plush underneath his feet. He watched the revant huddle up in a ball. It was cold in here, he mused. And took a seat in front of him, causing the other man to pop his head out.
Michael made the revelation that the zombie was cute. Perhaps it was his mask that, if you peered into it, you could see the man's eyes, almost filled with grief instead of that fog, that made them so bloodthirsty. Or maybe it was his body, bulky and muscular, but he still had fat in the right places. Or maybe it was just that Michael was horny and touch-starved. Either way, it was embarrassing for him to be swooning over someone who was infected.
The other boy shifted nervously as the other masked man was attempting to burn holes through his body. He looked at the man's broad shoulders, his torso, and arms. It was clear that the other went to the gym, although he wasn’t as strong as him. He felt a puff of pride at that.
The other inched closer, putting a hand on the other's waist, and simply holding him…? Now that confused him dearly. After a while, Jason pushed himself off. The feeling was alien, and he didn’t know how to feel that it was some random dude who did it.
Michael was especially annoyed, as when he was holding him, it was to check how fresh the bite had been. Definitely not anything else.
‘I need to see your bite mark. I was looking for it. Don’t do that again.’ Michael signed, clearly frustrated. Jason was thoroughly embarrassed to the point where his ears were red.
‘Sorry. I didn’t know. I was confused about why you were holding me.’ It fascinated Michael in Jason’s body language; he watched how his hands drooped in a way that made him seem almost bashful.
The other man’s right hand briskly pulled up the other arm's sleeve, showing the partially healed wound. Although there were many things he didn’t understand about the other guy, like how he was practically beaming at it.
The bite mark was in this perfect 6-month period, where, unlike the newly infected couldn’t infect others via cough or saliva, nor was it fully healed, meaning they could find an antidote at one of the nearest citadels, areas where the uninfected were practically thriving, they were built on places where the decaying corpses couldn’t reach.
‘You’re very, very lucky; we can get you out of this containment, and we could get you to go back into a human.’ Michael quickly gestured after realizing that it was time for dinner, bringing both of them to their feet.
It was chicken alfredo, made by Freddy, who is an unlikely chef, but that's literally the only reason why Michael hasn’t ripped the annoying bastard into shreds, and he also fixes their tattered clothing and makes winter boots for the group.
Michael stared at the pasta, almost a little surprised; they usually didn’t get pasta in their hunts out for food, but when they did, they’d save it for a special occasion.
“The special occasion is that you guys got a cat. When it's older, it could be good for the boots or mittens and even foo-” Freddy wasn’t able to say anything else when he was hoisted by Jason, who shook his head, almost like a disappointed father.
Michael could get used to his new family.