Work Text:
Andy felt his stomach lurch as he navigated through the wreckage. It was evident this was once a girl's room, with the toys, dolls and the fading purple flowery wallpaper. It had been ransacked, where crayons were scattered across the carpet, the mattress was ripped, and the closet was hanging by its hinges.
What might have once been serene with the billowy pale pink curtains and large window that could peek out into the backyard with the large oak tree now only saw the dust blanketing everything, resembling snow with a grey sheen.
Andy hugged himself, his thermal jacket not enough against the air that blew through the house's infrastructure. He almost missed when it was sweltering hot, the days of ducking under patios or lying in basements. The nuclear winter was expected by some of the weather forecasters, at least when the radios still worked, though Andy was thinking the apocalypse would've ended before then. Scientists would've found a solution and world leaders would try to keep pandemonium down, assuaging their citizens' fears.
He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to sleep until this was all over. He swore he could feel his ribs, it reminded him of the many years ago when he'd force himself to throw up to be skinnier though now he couldn't even eat, it'd make him sick.
His boots thumped against the hardwood flooring out in the hallway, leaving a trail of the powdery dust. He'd regularly wear his boots and coat inside, as there was less of a chance it'd be missing that way. He had a switchblade in his pocket for emergencies, though rarely used it to defend himself. He was reluctant towards using any guns but Sonny had a semi-automatic, saying it was safer and quicker. The principals of mutual assured destruction and all that.
"Fovvs?" Sonny's voice carried through the house.
Andy made his way further down to lean over the bannister. "I'm upstairs. You find anything good?"
"Nah, other than a good sleeping place." Sonny met him in the hall. Despite both of them in equal sorry shape, Sonny managed to not look completely battered. His hair was tucked underneath a faded orange beanie and his surplus jacket and double layers of pullovers seemed sufficient enough. Sonny, it turned out, really got this survival stuff down to a tee. At least with rummaging through houses and constant squatting.
Andy had to dig through his own resources through recall of what he learned in Boy Scouts when he was seven years old. Honestly he had no idea how useful it was to tie a secure knot or make a fire given that he hated the outdoors, but it proved useful on securing food or getting heat on the coldest days.
"Shit. I need to smoke," Andy exhaled. Since he didn't have his asthma inhaler or emergency refills, at this point he figured fuck it, he might as well continue to damage his lungs. The thought of quitting cold turkey was a distant thought, it seemed so long ago even if it was only seven months.
Sonny wordlessly held out a pack of cigarettes, scrounged from a week ago when they landed a house with an elderly couple.
Andy figured it could've been worst. He was almost tempted to get drunk upon seeing the bottles of Jack Daniels, stored deep back in the closet though Sonny yanked the bottle out of his hand knowingly like a strict parent. He was tired of seeing dead bodies or ruined places, but he had to admit it was nice to have company. He never imagined surviving the last of his days with Sonny Robertson.
Sonny pursed his lips. "I think we could camp out here for a few days. There's a sleeping bag we can share."
That was another thing - they were much closer. They slept together for warmth, shared food and once even pissed in the same makeshift toilet using a mixing bowl. What would've once brought embarrassment but now it didn't matter.
Andy took a drag of the nicotine, throat slightly burning. "You think anyone would come in here?"
"Nah, it'll be hard to walk through outside," Sonny pointed out.
"People could make sleds or snowshoes," Andy said. "Wasn't the first time." He grimaced, remembering how they saw a few kids become inventive with branches and string. While they were pretty harmless, if the crazy ones used that idea, they were in serious trouble.
During the first wave, when electricity went out, it was common to have some groups who went out to destroy and loot. Cars getting hijacked, windows smashed, and the delighted whooping that followed. At this point common sense wasn't even a thing. Survival made some people do things they'd never do, even kill for resources. The idea of losing one's own humanity was frightening, Andy sometimes had to remind himself to stay calm. Even though he hadn't went to church in a long time, sometimes he'd pray to God. He'd even read a verse from a bible if one happened to have the book in their house, like it'd help signal a higher being to make it better. In Genesis, King James Version, he kept thinking of For dust you are, and to dust you shall return.
Sonny hovered over Andy, and he handed the cigarette. Andy saw Sonny glance at his mouth before looking away.
"We should sleep," Andy suggested.
"Yeah, alright." Sonny led them both to a room downstairs that looked to be for storage. It was dark and musty, where Andy almost banged his head against the light bulb that was suspended from above. The carpet floor was slightly damp and there were mostly boxes and airtight bags.
Sonny tugged out the sleeping bag while Andy stacked the boxes to the side. The dust particles made Andy sneeze.
Sonny seemed satisfied with the cleared space and dropped the sleeping bag on the floor.
Andy's nose twitched. "Are you sure it's safe here? It's pretty mouldy and I can't tell if that's water or toxins in the carpet."
Sonny considered this. "We'll try our luck."
Andy slumped a bit. "Sure." He supposed it was the safest part of the house. Given the number of house break-ins, some not delicate like shattered windows or broken locks, that meant anyone could enter. It wasn't safe to live in one spot, and Andy's heard horror stories like cannibalism. He was pretty sure Sonny wouldn't go Hannibal on him, but just for good measure Andy suggested they should go vegan.
They went in the sleeping bag, using one of the airtight bags that held clothes as a pillow. Andy cuddled with Sonny as a way for heat. As stupid as it sounded, he felt protected.
Andy woke up with a start, taking a moment to regain his bearings. Sometimes when he had a nightmare, he'd wake Sonny up. He was still sleeping with Sonny, where through their clothes he swore he could feel Sonny's chest rise up and down.
He blinked, tears falling from his eyes. He wanted everything to be normal again, not terrified of who they would face or if they ran out of food.
The lowest point was probably drinking toilet water or puking for two days straight in front of Sonny. But now he was worried of the prospect that this would be their normal life, and what if Sonny left him?
Andy figured he should be used to it, at some degree, but he wanted nothing more than to spend his dying days with the Essex man.
Andy buried his face in Sonny's chest, the faint smell of sweat and sandalwood.
Sonny stirred slightly. "Fovvs," he mumbled.
"Yeah?"
"Could you stop moving?"
"Sorry," Andy laughed softly. "I love you, Sonjob."
Sonny grunted. "Love you too. Now go to sleep."
Andy felt a hand shake his shoulder. He blearily opened his eyes, mouth tasting like the dust from outside. "Uh," he groaned. "Can I sleep for five more minutes?"
"You have to eat," Sonny said patiently.
"I don't want to." Andy turned on his side.
"Fovvs." Sonny leaned down, tipping the water bottle toward his lips.
Andy obediently drank, pushing Sonny upward when he had a few sips. Water was a sacred resource. They'd fill up bottles or cups using toilet tanks or bychance finding water bottles if some households still had it.
It didn't rain or snow, which was worrying. Andy licked his lips. "Did the weather change at all?"
"No. And it's evening. You have your choice of spam or salmon."
"Awesome," Andy said. He wondered how Sonny could possibly eat meat. The smell and look of it kept reminding him of the bodies. He felt bile rise. "I'm not hungry."
"Too bad."
"Is there any cereal?"
Sonny shook his head. "Believe me, I've been looking."
"Sonny, do you think everything will be back to normal?"
"I dunno. I hope so." Sonny had a moment of sadness. "I really want to see my family again."
"They're probably still alive," Andy said, even though he didn't know for sure. "I reckon survival runs through your bloodline."
Sonny snorted a bit. "Oh, yeah. My sisters couldn't even live without their phones for one hour."
"Guys generally will be more reluctant to kill a girl, so there's that," Andy said.
"So much better," Sonny said sarcastically. "Except that won't be on the consciousness of misogynists and psychos."
"You're supposed to be sunny and optimistic," Andy said. "Clearly your nickname needs an update. Should we choose another Seven Dwarves sounding name?"
Sonny didn't even crack a smile.
"Y'know, I was thinking. If we ever separated or if you left." Andy paused. "I just want to say ahead that I really want to stay with you, and we should make a pact or something."
"Andy," Sonny said, "I'm not gonna leave you. Now you better eat something or I'm shoving salmon in your mouth when you're asleep."
"You are so aggressive," Andy said. "I'm not sure if I'm turned on by that."
Sonny rolled his eyes but smiled this time.
Andy managed to choke down a can of spam through Sonny's encouragement and visualizing it as cake.
"Good," Sonny said, and discarded the can in one of the boxes.
Andy made a face. "That tasted so bad."
"Want a smoke?"
"No, I'm good." Andy hugged Sonny. "Can we sleep again? You make a good pillow."
"No." Sonny rose up, swearing as his head hit the ceiling. "We should go through the house one more time then head further out."
"Do we even have a plan?" Andy asked.
"I think we should maybe try to increase allies," Sonny said.
"Oh." Andy faltered. "Is that a good idea?" Bigger groups were better for food though they could easily break with mistrust and paranoia.
"Not like live together, but just share information. See how we can fix this," Sonny explained. "I reckon there's some group already gathering many people. You know, like in those TV shows."
"Ever realized they're all in the United States?" Andy said. "So we're travelling across the continent to this supposed refuge center."
"Yeah," Sonny said seriously.
"Brilliant. So we just follow road signs and trek in the wilderness through all of this weather."
"Yeah, it's stupid," Sonny admitted. "It's our only shot if we're running out of supply."
"I wish we thought ahead of horses," Andy said. "That would've been useful when there wasn't any dust."
Sonny had a thoughtful look. "The only thing I can think of is a sled since the dust is compact."
"Bobsledding our way to the U.S," Andy said. "Fun times."
"Any other ideas, Einstein?"
"I don't mind staying here. If people are trying to signal a refuge then eventually we'll find it. I think globally they would try to set up centres around cities. That's what I would do if I was an organizer. We'd find a way to communicate and operate from abroad."
Sonny frowned. "That would be smart."
"It'd take years, though," Andy said. "There has to be some wizkid who invents technology all over again without electricity."
Sonny snapped his fingers. "Y'know, that's not a bad idea. Since we currently only have word of mouth we should create some sort of communication and pass it on."
"Great idea, except for language barriers and people wanting to kill," Andy pointed out.
"If we could at least carry it to the United States," Sonny said. "We'd need NATO and shit like that."
"There must be something invented for these kind of things," Andy said. "Like escape pods."
"Right, where the wealthy people all fly to Mars," Sonny said. "And leave behind the rest of the population."
Andy couldn't tell if Sonny was joking or not. He had a moment of inspiration but even if they could communicate they still had to combat the outdoors. Inevitably people could never reach a consensus. There were still conflicts between states and individuals who liked to argue with everything.
"I blame our previous generation," Andy muttered. "They had years to take global warming seriously."
"So did ours," Sonny countered. "I think it's kinda like the way dinosaurs went extinct, y'know, it's nature controlling survival conditions."
"Cool, I always wanted to live until human extinction."
Sonny hummed. "Feel like searching for soda?"
"Sure."
The two exited the space to see another day.