Deadman Crawling [m×m]

TWELVE

Jace finds Eloy in bed sitting criss-cross and staring at a small vial between his nimble fingers. He leans against the doorframe, keeping silent as he watches him fondly.

Eloy spares him a glance, lip caught between his teeth and he tends to do that when he's thinking, debating, weighing out the pros and cons. Jace has learned as such from his baby boy, has learned all his little quirks these past few weeks. It still amazes him how attuned he's become to the younger man's body, to his thoughts and his needs.

And right now, Jace knows Eloy's thoughts aren't in a good place. Can see it in the way his lips are pulled down in a frown, see it in his eyes.

He tries to make light conversation, to steer away those dark clouds, "You never told me."

"Told you what?" Eloy asks, voice muffled as he drags his knees to his chest as best he can.

The vial placed by his feet.

"You never told me what you were doing outside, the night we met at the store," Jace says, "granted I never asked."

And Jace wishes he could take back the words that only manage to make Eloy more uncomfortable.

He's about to tell the younger man to forget about it when Eloy sighs, "I was making a stop, trying to search for medicine just in case... you know. I just wanted to stock up on supplies."

"But you had more than enough in your bag to last a few days," Jace points out, realizing belatedly that he can't keep his trap shut.

"I was going to... to..." Eloy hesitates, he stutters, wondering if he can tell Jace only to remember that Jace already knows.

The man has seen him, has seen his most private parts, the parts he wishes didn't exist but has come to enjoy. Yet there's still some part of him that is afraid, so afraid— of rejection, of abandonment, of everything.

Jace sits beside Eloy and carefully takes the vial in his hands, the motion making Eloy tense.

Don't, at the tip of his tongue.

"Testosterone?" Jace asks, though it sounds more of a statement.

"To be a guy, a-a man," Eloy begins, voice breaking, "to be normal, I take it. I-I'm supposed to take it every weeks but I tried to stretch it to two weeks since... since the end of the world."

And that's when Jace connects the dots, Eloy hasn't been taking it.

"This is the last one... right?"

He nods, "it's my last bit of sanity."

"Why don't you take it?"

"I... I wanted to make it last, I wanted... I wanted so much to make it last," Eloy answers, "but I realize that I can't and I'm scared to take it, for it to be the last one."

"You where going for more, you were searching for more, the night we met."

The younger man nods, "I was on my way to my Endocrinologist, to raid the supplies. But I knew I wouldn't make it in one shot. I was aware that I would need to make stops, to lay low unless I wanted to become an infected. The night we met, I just needed some supplies to tide me over."

"But I shot you, I stopped you," Jace frowns, reaching for Eloy and finding the younger leaning into his touch.

"But you found me," Eloy whispers.

"And what were you going to do, if and when you got what you needed? Did you plan on coming back, back to your safe place?"

Eloy's brows furrow. He hadn't thought of that, of what he would do.

"I... I don't know," he admits.

"You can still go," Jace offers, "you can still do what you want to do. Get your medication and keep moving, keep going."

That sits badly inside of Eloy's chest and he shakes his head, "No, god, no. Not... Not if it means leaving you."

Jace smiles, pressing a kiss to Eloy's forehead.

"What about you? Did you plan on leaving here? With Alexis and the... the kids?"

"Yes," Jace answers, "The night I met you I was collecting whatever I could to take on a one-way trip out of here."

Eloy stops breathing. Just a few days, perhaps a few seconds, and he may have never met Jace. His heart suddenly hurts at the thought.

"Why didn't you beforehand?" He asks, throat tight.

The apocalypse had been raging on for almost two months before they met. So, why hadn't Jace moved before? As an officer, knowing the odds of surviving if they continued like waiting ducks, why didn't he leave?

"Because Alexis has been... difficult. She's holding onto the idea that Ryan will come back. But Ryan... the last time I saw him... I just knew he wasn't coming back. From experience I know that it's never safe to settle, not here, not anywhere. I was so close to just... just leaving. I understand her pain, he was my best friend, but her priority should be the safety of her children," Jace sighs.

"I'm sorry," Eloy whispers, cradling Jace against his chest.

Jace draws from his warmth, "He wanted me to protect her, our parents wanted me to protect her. But she's always been stubborn, and I think, I think that I would've gone insane if I had never met you."

Eloy snorts softly at that.

Jace pulls back and opens his palm. Eloy looks at the little taunting vial again.

"Take it," The ex-officer encourages, "don't hesitate, don't try to hold onto the memories of what it feels like to be complete, instead take the moment and feel it now."

The fact that they may not have a tomorrow goes unspoken.

But it hangs there, over their heads, inside their minds.

The what if's, the maybes, the possibilities.

What if one of them doesn't make it back from an excursion?

What if one of them becomes an infected?

What if they die tomorrow?

"We'll pack," Jace continues conspiratorially, "and we'll leave. Tomorrow, we'll leave. We'll find your doctor's office, we'll keep moving, we'll find a home— find a place untouched by the undead and infected."

It sounds too good to be true.

Especially when he's seen Jace's hope diminish after trying and failing to contact someone, anyone, with his radio.

But he holds onto just a sliver of hope.

"Help me?"

And Jace does.

He helps clean the younger's thigh with rubbing alcohol before taking the plunge.

And he kisses away Eloy's pained tears.

"Tomorrow?" Eloy rasps after he's calmed, the pain from the injection a dull ache.

"Tomorrow," Jace promises.