Quick disclaimer! This was written for my alt and then I decided not to post it there. That might change so if you do find it because it has the same story...no you didn't.
Prompt/Inspiration: The zombie outbreak started 2 years ago now you find yourself cornered by a decaying zombie when you do the unthinkable and bite it first when it falls to the floor and grows its skin back and sits up and asks what is going on.
“Dream, Dre-please, please, no!” George sobbed as his back hit the wall. Dream-what was left of Dream stumbling towards him.
They’d done so well, checking for bites every night, using only long-range weapons or those metal poles they’d found a few months ago.
Dream had somehow gotten bit while they were fighting off a small horde, only three zombies. George was cornered by two and Dream swooped in to save him. They checked but they must’ve missed the small bite on his shoulder. The festering wound was obvious now as in the throes of the first waves of sickness Dream had ripped his clothes.
It started with a low grade fever. Neither of them thought anything of it. Of course they both entertained the idea because they'd seen enough of their friends die to it. But neither of them thought it would happen to them. Especially not Dream.
Then it progressed into a small itch on his shoulder.
An overwhelming heat that originated in his shoulder and spread to his whole body.
A final guttural yell for George to run before he ripped half his scalp off and started grabbing for his flesh.
"Dream, please, please! We've gotten so far! Remember how we wanted to start a potato farm with Techno when we met up again? Then figure out how to make muffins in honor of Skeppy and Bad?" George rambled on as his death drew closer. The flesh still hadn't begun to rot so the unearthly moans were a harsh juxtaposition to Dream's pale greening face. "Or-or Tubbo's bee farm? Before he went off with Ranboo and Tommy we told him we'd re-restore his bee hives?" His tears and sobs had turned to hiccups as a hysterical edge lined his voice. George closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Dream...I love you. I'm glad I found you and you didn't blast my head off when we first met." George turned his teary eyes towards the boy who'd stayed with him through everything. A zombie apocalypse, break downs, panic attacks, and whatever happened. Dream was only 17. He didn't get to have the same experiences as George since he was 19. He'd never even drank for Christ's sake. A watery laugh forced its way up his throat.
He felt ready. Dream was a lost cause, why live when the person who'd been surviving with him died? George felt that having Dream kill him was a much better death than one he'd been anticipating for the past two years.
A small, weary smile graced his lips as the zombie made a final awkward shuffle to bring itself in biting range.
Then as soon as the numbness of his acceptance of death embraces him, George realized that he didn't actually want to die. Sure, dying to Dream was a good way, but even without him he could still go do what they promised. He began to panic and took stock of what was around him.
Literally nothing useful.
A clump of dried grass and dirt, some odd stains that neither one commented on but both noticed when they built their shelter, and an old piece of twine that most likely blew in from somewhere.
Oh, well he could try biting Dream. Maybe that would distract him long enough to allow George to escape. Or as Dream bit him and then killed him, he could pretend they were getting frisky and spend his last moments daydreaming.
He closed his eyes and silently cursed what he was about to do. George steeled himself and lunged for Dream before he could.
Ok, just pretend he's not a braindead zombie and bite him. It won't taste gross, maybe like sweat or some-holy frig that is disgusting!
George sank his teeth into Dream's arm. A wet squelching sound reached his ears and he internally cringed, trying not to think about how easy it was to bite past the skin.
Immediately Dream jerked to a stop and started to sway gradually, then picked up speed before finally falling onto the ground. Ripping his arm out of George's mouth in the process.
He spat, trying to get the taste out of his mouth and vowing never to do that again. No matter what happens, he will never bite a zombie to save himself again.
Dream twitched on the floor as George watched with morbid fascination when the skin on his scalp started growing back. The green tint on his face started to fade as a healthy, red color came back to bring animation to his cheeks. Sadly his hair didn't grow back but small hairs appeared on the new skin.
As Dream spasmed for the last time he went still. Stiller than any living creature should or ever will be. A stillness usually only instilled by death. (If I had a dollar for everytime still appeared in this paragraph...)
Then suddenly, quite similarly to Frankenstien's monster waking up, Dream sat up abruptly and looked around. His gaze was unfocused and bleary. When some of the fogginess left his vision they made eye contact Dream's face suddenly contorted into a mixture of disbelief, concern, and happiness.
"Why the frick did you bite me?" He demanded as he regained control of his tongue. "I could've bitten you! Then you would've been a zombie!"
"I panicked, ok?" George pouted and turned away. He crossed his arms as he heard Dream shuffle around behind him. He stared at the wall for a few more moments until the rustling stopped and a sudden intake of air
George cautiously turned around and found Dream holding the small compact they'd lifted from some makeup store. (Dream claimed it was a Sephora. George, who hadn't lived there for long, thought it was a Target.)
Dream was angling it at his hair-er, what was left of it. It seemed as though the un-zombification had grown back his skin but his hair was completely missing from where he'd torn it out. George giggled a little at the sight of Dream's half bald head. Some guys looked good bald, but Dream...couldn't pull it off sadly.
"Dream, it'll be ok. By the time we're supposed to meet up with everyone again it'll have grown back a little."
"But George! My hair!" He wailed dramatically and walked over to George in order to drape his lanky frame over George's shoulders. Resulting in George being caught off guard and falling to the ground with Dream on top of him.
They laid there for goodness knows how long, laughing in the dust and dirt relishing being together after Dream's untimely undeath experience.
(Was this proof read at all? No <3)
