If we should die tonight
Then we should all die together.
-Ed Sheeran, I See Fire

Dan

Some of the darkest thoughts I've ever had run through my mind in this moment.

I always thought I was afraid to die but now I realize I just had something to live for before. Now I want the pain, I want the bullet to hit me, ripping through skin and flesh just as quickly and instantly as lightning striking a tree. I feel afraid and yet detached from it all, as if I'm watching a bad movie from really, really far away.

I look over at Phil. His body is relaxed and still, his black hair slightly skewed on his forehead that's painted with the silvery scar. The moment where he saved my life replays in my head like a brutal reminder. The last piece of him, the memory. Even that is gone. I can't even bring myself to look at the blood.

Gone. But how can he be gone? I didn't even get to say goodbye to him. The one reliable person in my life, the one who I thought I'd always have- It's agony to realize this, pure unadulterated pain to know I did this to him. I let this happen. Not to me, not to Marzia, but to Phil. We'll never be able to fall in love like we should have, and I'd promised him that I'd tell him. He can't be gone without ever knowing that. He can't.

I take a deep breath one last time and then lower my gaze, and because none of my friends know what I'm thinking, none of them try to stop me. My hand brushes the gun but then clumsily drops it, and I desperately try to get over and reach it before I can change my mind.

Because if I'm dead I don't have to feel this anymore. I can't do this anyway.

My fingers finally close around the weapon, and I lift it back up. My eyes flit back over, one last chance, and the pain redoubles. His hand in mine is still cold, he isn't moving again. At least I don't have to kill him. I won't even have to feel soon.

I don't dare look at my friends as I raise it and turn it to point at myself, fingers just closing around the trigger as simultaneously the realization hits them and several voices are screaming at me to stop. My hands are shaking something awful, but it's not death that I fear.

Time slows.

I'm in love with you. I hear him telling me.

I squeeze his hand gently, well aware that I never got to say it back aloud for him to hear, swallowing down my nerves. It's ironic, really. Love is overwhelming me right now, so irresistibly beautiful and passionate and strong it should be impossible. Not enough.

Mark grabs me, trying pull my arm away and I can't take it, I push away and scream at him, begging him to get off.

I wrench my arm free, pulling the trigger.

But Mark slams my arm against the bark, the bang ripping through the night and the shot missing me completely. Shards of wood explode from the bark above his head but he leaps forward anyway, slamming his hands into my chest and knocking me backwards. The trunk of the tree collides with my shoulders, sending pain spiking through my back and yanking Phil's hand out of mine.

I thrash against him immediately, screaming at him to let go of me but he only tightens his hold, pushing me harshly into the nearest tree.

"I don't care if I have to knock you out temporarily!" He shouts. His arms pin me against the rough bark and gasping sobs escape my lips, angry determination blazing on his face as I try viciously to fight. "Goddammit Dan, you are going to stay alive!"

My heart twists in my chest and I claw at him, trying to break my hold, my whole body shaking so hard I'm sure I'm totally losing it.

"No!" I shriek. "Fucking leave me! I don't owe you anything! He was all I had!"

"I won't let you die!" He yells back.

All the strength leaves my body and I fall limp, shoulders heaving as I collapse against the trunk, my arms still pinned to my sides as a scream claws in my chest.

I need someone to hold me.

There's no one left.

"Please don't talk like this." He says rapidly. "Dan, look at me. Don't do this to yourself."

My heart clenches in my chest.

"Stop trying to help me." I gasp. "Stop trying. Please, just leave me alone."

"Dan, listen. You have stay. You have to!" Felix shouts. And then he's in front of me too, holding my other arm, and I hate him. I hate them both.

"Why?" I ask quietly. "Why? Give me one good reason, Felix. Only a few weeks ago you didn't even know who I was. Just forget me."

And then they're both listing off reasons but don't hear them. I press my hand over my face and screw my eyes shut, my eyes and throat burning as my mouth opens in a silent scream.

"I let him die." I choke, pain stinging my throat. "It's because of me that Phil's dead."

"It's not your fault." Felix pleads. "Dan, none of this was your fault."

He's staring at me so sadly it makes my heart twist, because he knows exactly what this feels like. But I don't want to relate to him. I don't want to have this in common.

"You need to live, Dan." Mark says quietly. "For Phil."

The mention of his name sends a jolt straight to my heart, striking me and knocking me back. My eyes go out of focus and I curl against the trunk, staring numbly at the ground which is slowly becoming a blur. I can't feel or hear anything, my arms going slack where they're held. Felix lets go and looks down at me, eyes wide. But now my heart is barely beating. Because if I can't die, I'll just let go. I'll exist but I won't do anything, I'll let them talk and try to make me eat and drink but I won't answer them. I'll waste away.

In either case, I'll cease to exist eventually.

"No." Mark gasps, gripping my shoulders and trying to sit me back up. "Dan. Dan."

My fingers feel cold and numb, I welcome the discomfort it causes. I let myself drift away, dreaming of a world where pain like this is impossible...

Then suddenly, I hear a sound from behind me. A groan- just a weak gasp, but it's enough to make me forget everything at once.

I know that voice.

My heart jolts in my chest, I try to crawl back to Phil but Mark grabs me, and that's when the small bit of sanity I have snaps. I panic, twisting out of his grasp with blinding fear clouding my vision, hands twitching to attack him if he doesn't let go of me.

"Let me get to him!" I scream.

Mark is so shocked he drops my arms instantly. I yank myself away and in moments I'm collapsed in front of Phil, Mark's gun still in my hand. I crawl over to him and see his eyes are shut and his face is creased in pain but he's moving, all I can think about is how he's moving, a lump sitting in my throat though I'm trying to remember it's for the wrong reasons.

"He's a zombie, Dan." Felix says quietly. There's a difference in his approach now, though. This time, he isn't moving to stop me. "I know it hurts but he's turning and that's why we can't just-"

My hand goes to Phil's face without really thinking, the skin still cold but his expression shifting when I do, the corner of his eye twitching minutely at the touch. I stifle a broken sound and lower the hand down to his own, pushing my fingers into the space between his and feeling my chest constrict when I don't get a response. Maybe it was just an illusion. His expression is still now.

"Don't touch him, Dan!" Chris exclaims. "It's not safe! He'll kill you!"

"Phil." I whisper, and it's strange to hear this voice that's not my own. I'd thought I'd been broken before but my voice has never sounded like this. This is the end for both of us tonight. I remember the car crash just when the apocalypse began, when I'd held his face and begged him to open his eyes. And he did. He did. I plead for the unknown words that could ever reach him now.

I wait for what feels like hours. I squeeze his still fingers again, both of our hands bruised and darkened with blood.

"But I heard him." I breathe weakly. "I heard him."

"He's gone, Dan." Mark gasps. I can hear the tears in his voice and it shakes me slightly. Reality isn't right. How terribly fitting.

I wonder if that sound was Phil's last chance, his final fight to cling to life. He's dead but I can't just accept that. I lean down and kiss his forehead right there in front of all of them, not giving a shit what they think as I push aside his hair. And suddenly no tears will come. It's almost scarier that that's happening now. I'm not even strong enough to cry.

He's too still.

My heart drops then and I give up entirely, something breaking that can't be repaired. I lift my hand, the one without the gun and push my fingers more tightly through his, squeezing his fingers like we were about to do one of our stupid dances.

And like clockwork, I watch his fingers suddenly lower one by one, slowly closing around mine.

They squeeze tighter.

And his eyelids flutter.

I gasp, he blinks but the look is glazed, the hand in mine gripping oddly. He shudders again and the grip falters, and as soon as I see his eyes cast down I realize he isn't focused. He isn't aware he's looking at me. All hopes extinguished I tighten my fingers on the gun, pointed right at his head now. A darkened desire takes over my mind then. I want to stop everything, bring the end that's best for both of us.

Even though I thought I was ready to die, some stupid animal instinct is giving me this unwanted will to live, to escape, the thought of Phil, the kindest person I've ever known killing me feeling unbearably painful even though I was just now preparing to do the very same to him. It would destroy him to know he'd done that, it would break his fucking heart.

I know my heart is breaking, I can't stand to know the virus has taken my Phil and this is all I have left. I want to be dead long before I see that.

How undignified, unfitting, to have him here lying in the woods. Propped against a tree, his pale skin looks sickly and his head hangs heavy against his chest. Just another victim of the apocalypse lain alone in the woods. We're all bound to die one day, we were just stupid enough enough to delude ourselves that we could live.

Maybe this is what was meant to happen all along. I knew Phil believed in fate, but it was because of Phil that I stayed alive at all. If not for him then there really, truly isn't any reason left for me, not in this world anymore. If he isn't here then fate isn't real, because no fate would ever lead us to an end like this.

That's when the virus takes over. Just as my hand finds his cold skin he groans and I see him strain to sit up, I'm trying pull my hand away but he won't let go of it. He uses it to lift himself up and despite myself I help him, bringing the gun closer to his head so at least I don't have to see it. I wonder if he's going to try and attack me. I wonder if he even realizes who I am.

Phil wouldn't hurt me. He could never forget who I am. There's no way for anyone, anything to make that happen. I tell myself this a thousand times.

And then he falls.

I yank my arm back as he lurches forward, hearing the click of a loaded gun behind me. It's Felix or Mark probably, preparing to kill him before he kills me. That's all I need to see before agonizing pain rips my heart again, faced with the truth that in fact, Phil doesn't know who I am. He's just a zombie. It isn't even really him. I'm being attacked by a creation of the confederation, a beast possessing his body and shattering my heart.

I don't even know why I look up. I don't want to see his face- his skin mottled and his eyes glazed. I don't want to see the ferocious look, so out of place because the real Phil is not a monster. I don't need a reminder that he's actually gone. I don't want to see his face when he kills me. He's pinning me to the ground and it's a wonder no one's shot him, probably worried they'll hit me by accident instead. I wish they would hit me. Maybe they can hit us both and this will all just instantly end.

It's too much. It's too fucking much. I raise the gun to my head again in the hopes of at least going out in my own way, feeling my hand shake as the cold metal presses into the side of my head. How poetic, the end of my life by the sleight of my own finger.

I take a deep breath, but it's knocked out of me as my arm is yanked down by his corpse. Fingers slam my hand to the dirt- the weapon sent flying before Phil's cold hands take hold of my head.

I freeze. My back hits the ground but I ignore the pain, adrenaline coursing through me as my head is pulled up towards his face.

I lift my eyes despite all of my impulses fighting against me, they widen when I see a pale face hovering over me, filling my entire field of vision. I don't want to look at him, I don't want to do it, but I do. Some crazy force is possessing me, it's near impossible not to when you love somebody so much. I look at him for what might be one last time.

And when I do, my eyes lock with Phil's unmistakable blue ones.

I let out a breath, not sure why my heart has stopped.

His breath ghosts my face, I don't even feel my wrists digging into the dirt.

My body goes limp, total silence falling over everything as a tear slides down my cheek,  the weight of a person keeping me frozen in place. His hands fumble to to grip mine again, replacing the gun with soft skin and yet I still don't really believe it, the air all but lost from my lungs.

The gun drops onto the  ground just after I've managed to grab it, clattering loudly off a stone somewhere off to the side as my heart rams into my chest. I can't take my eyes off him, I'm afraid to blink for fear that what I'm seeing could be snatched away from me. My gaze rakes his face for pallored skin or silvery eyes but there's nothing- absolutely nothing. My hands scrabble to hold his, feeling the fingers weave together immediately and warmth slowly replace the cold.

I look at his wrist. The bite is there, the blood still shining on his arm. But he's breathing, he's looking at me.

His weak arms give out and he sinks against my chest but I barely manage to hold him up. I can't tear my eyes away from his face. I hold completely still, and the realization hits me like a bullet.

I'm staring into completely conscious, sane blue eyes.