Collection • TwoSetViolin

XX. Justification

Summary: Brett witnesses the entire world fall apart as the apocalypse begins, with Eddy right by his side.

Warnings: Major character death, mention of blood/suicide.

Notes: Somehow I didn't notice that both Inora and Mirror (Mirror) had XVIX as their Roman numeral... which is not a number. So that's been fixed! Anyways, here's another AO3 crosspost - please read the warnings before moving on with the content!

And, if you're interested in listening to the wonderful eykim28 read the fic out loud while you're following, please check out the Anti Social Writers Club on YouTube (and it wouldn't hurt for you to check it out on Instagram/Twitter, too c:)! The link will be in the inline comment right here!

(Also - I have more angst (+ 0.5 fluff piece) in store! But in these trying times, I was curious as to what you preferred c: So feel free to let me know^)

• • •

"What would a virus sound like?"
"Oh my god-"

Flight of the Bumblebee - Rimsky-Korsakov

The rain was pelting down on the car as the duo drove further and further away from Sydney.

Brett hummed and glanced back at the rearview mirror. In the back of the car was Eddy, his tall frame curled up on the seats and a pair of arms wrapped around his bloodied violin case. His breathing was soft for the first time in days, if not weeks; his face looked like an icon of peace even though his stained clothing suggested otherwise.

In front of them were emptied cars and cracks littering the road. Brett frowned as he stepped on the brakes as gently as he could, always remembering to keep an eye on the boy in the back. Despite the danger that loomed behind them, the last thing he wanted to do was wake Eddy up with sudden swerves and sharp bumps. Both of them needed a good night's sleep, he admitted, and he would make sure Eddy got his.

As they began to drive into the countryside, Brett's eyes peeled off of Eddy and stared, wide-eyed, at the road ahead. The last thing he wanted to see were figures in the distance, figures that moved awkwardly with peeling skin and blood dripping down their chin, figures that would rush toward any sound and light there was to kill. The more he drove, the more his hands shook and gripped the wheel, for he could be responsible for Eddy's death any second now if he wasn't careful.

He shut off the headlights and bit his lip. Hopefully, fate was on their side.

• • •

"If you had to depict what it's like to think, what piece of music would you play?"

Sonata for Two Violins in A minor, I. Poco lento, maestoso - Allegro fermo - Ysaye

Cold rations and snacks from the nearby pharmacy were all Brett had in his bag.

"How did you get the dried food?" Eddy's eyebrows were raised as he sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, his hands wrapped around a small package of crackers. They were in an abandoned house for the night, with the car outside and the candle in between them flickering dimly; Eddy's weary face was nearly invisible, and Brett wasn't sure if he was grateful to be unable to see the exhaustion and fear.

He shrugged. "Stole it. The army base had their rations out in the open."

"Hm." Eddy frowned. "They couldn't even protect food properly, and we expected them to protect us properly. No wonder everyone died."