Partially

Storms Suck

When he opens his eyes, the first thing he realizes is the pain is gone.

   There is no pain—he doesn't have a headache, his bite wound doesn't hurt and he feels...refreshed. Then he realizes Shadow is right there—his eyes are glassy. When Vio sits up, he steps back with a horrified, "Oh, goddesses!"

   He rubs at his eyes—he feels so good right now. Not even good, just normal. Not in pain, not tired, not drained. "Shadow?" He murmurs. He fears this is a dream or something, that Shadow isn't actually staring at him, choked up and Vio isn't in bed—that in reality, he is throwing himself at Shadow and tearing him to bits.

   He chokes out a sob. "Thank the goddesses, I thought you turned." He climbs onto the bed and throws himself in Vio's arms. "Hold me."

   Vio does. "Are...you okay?"

   Shadow rubs at his eyes—they are brimming with tears, washing down his face. "Are you okay?" He asks.

   "I...I feel better than I have in a long time."

   Shadow sniffs and buries his face into Vio's shoulder—Vio isn't sure if it's his injured or his uninjured one—there's a bit of soreness, as if Shadow accidentally gently pressed against a bruise, but it's totally fine. "I...I just kept waiting in the living room for you...for you to wake up." He runs a hand down Shadow's back and he trembles. "...It felt like my world was ending."

   The problem is the world is ending. Currently.

   There's a knock at the door, the front door. It interrupts their sweet moment—but both are positive that isn't happening. Then there's another knock. "...Someone's at the door," Vio says. It's obvious.

   Shadow looks at him. "I'll get it, Vi."

   "Where did you put that gun?" He asks. He's already gotten bit. He didn't turn. He might turn the next time. Of course the chances of a zombie knocking on the door and politely asking to be let in makes no sense, but Vio decides he'd rather be paranoid and alive then stupid and dead/turned.

   "It's in my room, because you wanted me to take the gun with me to bed."

   "Right." He gets to his feet—he's a little weak, but he doesn't feel sick anymore. "I'll go grab it. Wait by the door."

   Shadow just nods and obeys.

   He grabs the gun quickly—but stops to glance at the window. When he hurries back to Shadow, he asks, "When did it start raining?"

   "A couple hours ago," Shadow says. "Really coming down. It fit the mood, since I thought you were dead."

   Vio nods and turns the safety off. He has a bad, terrible feeling—he wishes he could just continue the sweet, perfect moment with Shadow, so he can kiss his forehead and comfort him...Vio needs some comfort now, but at least he doesn't feel like he's dying. "Go ahead and open the door."

    The knob twists in his hand but the door doesn't open. "Shit." He unlocks the deadbolt and looks at Vio—he smiles at him. Shadow really looks adorable...He hadn't realized how fond of him he really was. Shadow tries the knob again, pulling the door open.

   Outside, it is dark. The sound of the falling rain is loud, drowning out most other sounds but the howling wind and the wind chimes on the porch, twirling and twisting and singing, a tangled, ringing mess. A tiny, familiar voice says, "Vio?"

  

   The first days sucked, but the second day seemed to be going much better.

   The group had walked about twenty seven miles. It was not good—Zelda's feet had begun to hurt so she took off her heels and had to walk slower, attempting to avoid anything she probably wouldn't want to step in with her bare feet—puddles of blood, sharp looking things, etc. "I regret deciding to keep my heels," she said at some point, sighing sadly, which Red thought was pretty sad because he knew Zelda loved those shoes more than his father loved him and it was barely an exaggeration.