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Everything happened fast.
Maybe even too fast.
Maybe this was why he barely processed it at first.
The sun had been shining.
He would have hated it but he could not, now that he was dead. Roman had looked into the coffin, at the coffin and at the body his love had shed and left behind. Apathetically, numb and destroyed, he had pretended to accept condolences and pats to his back.
He had tried to ignore the death in his heart and the unmoving attitude of his brain when time continued and everyone had moved on but him.
Fingers would bleed, cut from paper and abuse. Eyes would be red with sleep deprivation and dehydration. Deeper and deeper would he go. Into libraries, the internet, into any source of knowledge and hope.
He had scraped his knees as he crawled lower and lower, beyond previous “All Time Low”s and other points of shame. Roman had outdone the worst sinner in his pursuit of making the impossible possible with the sheer stubbornness of a lover’s heart.
Once he had found something, the world had started to change.
Self-destructive ignorance was pushed beyond its own, hurtful limits. Dulled down fingertips had finally grasped that broken-up shard of hope digging and cutting into his heart.
“I will do it. Anything.”
He would tell himself.
And mean it.
His fingers had rested, trying to have their own hope in recovering from him much they had been pushed and rubbed and cut and roughened up. At the end, it was in forfeit as much as the rest of his aspirations.
Sweat had covered him up to his brown and over to his ears when embracing the dirt of the dead. In the dead of the night, no soul alive, he had reversed the funeral and given new life to a person long stored away, a man loved and hated and terribly and desperately yearned for.
Here he was.
Roman had a copied spell-book in his hands, furious notes scribbled all over the print. Candles surrounded him, giving him just enough light to see the weird words, the ancient language and mysterious phrasings.
A pinch of salt.
The blood of someone deeply connected to the deceased.
A personal chant to bound the deceased to the living.
A bit magic, some here and there.
Soon, the sheet of black presented more than just a dead body. A weird aura surrounded him. The body was half withered away, stinking and smelling not too worse compared to the original, the living man. At least at times.
Roman squinted at the person before him.
The body? His love?
He was not sure yet.
He had dug that .. corpse out, brought it back into his basement and tried to cover his tracks and traces as well as possible. He had set up dates and everything, making sure to have alibis.
Now, he was standing in front of the revealed person, the ritual nearly complete. Only one chant would make a difference at this point. In order to finish the ritual, he needed to come up with a summoning sentence, a few binding words.
Why not, he wondered, use the words that bounded them together in the first place?
His lips were dry as the desert, heart empty and desolate as he thought of a sentence. Pain was clawing at his chest but it was so numb, it felt like a distant relative to his memory.
“Remus”
Roman started, voice hoarse and croaking in his throat. It scratched and scraped and refused to come out, refused to give its power over to a ritual of such kind. The abandoned lover glared at his own hands, seething rage taking over as his body tried to be an obstacle to his own ways and needs. He cleared his throat and resumed. His voice was whipped and forced out like a starving slave.
“I ... love you.”
The words were forcefully pushed out of his throat yet pronounced with such a tenderness, it made his eyes weep once more. One single tear escaped them as they watered themselves with the last bit of liquid inside of his body.
The body before him stayed a body and Roman felt himself break down and collapse into the half-dead ruin of his own abused and neglected body. The torture of grief had devastated him inside and out. Now, the failing spell was doing the rest of the work for him.
He passed out for good.
***
“Roman?”
Hmm...
He did not want to get up. Sleep was heavy on his body. Underneath his skin, he was tingly and comfortable. Little shivers were gracing him ever so tenderly.
He wanted to keep dreaming. In his dream, every night, the memories of a once so bright time were still in his mind, preserved and fresh as if nothing had ever happened to them. It was like the picture of a cake before it had been thrown out. It was full and rich but long gone in the real world. The dreams maintained what once used to be and what once made him a happy man.
Naturally, he clung to it, clung to the metaphysical manifestations of his nightly lover by his side, his spouse, his love-
“Roman.”
No, let him go back to sleep.
Please
He needed it.
He wanted to be in the little illusion of him being okay, of his love and his life to be alright. However, the other person kept calling him and ripped into the screen of his perfect life. No film, no projection and no dreams could grow on a ripped up foundation.
Roman’s eyes snapped open, as much as his jaw. He flipped his body open at once, ready to flip off the person who had to keep bothering him.
Who was that? The police? Did anyone try to judge him for trying to get his lover back? He sat up and glared at the voice and..
Remus.
It hit him harder than his actual death. For a moment, he was genuinely frozen, shock seizing his heart. He felt as newborn at once as the person before him.
Resurrected.
Seeing things for the first time.
But not really for the first time at the same time.
He blinked.
Not a hallucination?
“What are you doing on the floor?”
Remus was still dirty but he seemed to bounce on his feet a bit, ready to jump into action - any action, really! He was just that kind of person. Basically dead, yet full of life and energy.
Tears formed in his eyes again.
It was not like the crystallised pieces of salt and other things from the remaining tears of the previous day had dried on his cheeks and made any facial expression feel odd and awkward at the same time.
“Were you hungover?? Did we party that hard?? I can’t remember a thing!”
Remus was hopping for real now, striving through the basement. Energy was running through his body, driving him to move and move even when there was nothing to do. So, he was being sensible and pacing around the area. Half-heartedly
“I feel like shit! We need food and drinks and water and a fucking shower!”
He turned around, looking at the other. His body seemed to be in just okay shape but it was.. strange at the same time.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You gonna puke?”
Roman sighed and got back up to his feet, legs wobbly.
The impossible was happening right before him. Remus’ existence, his behaviour - something he had called “impossible” multiple times before his death - was even more impressive than before. It left something inside of him and stirred emotions awake in Roman that he thought had been buried along with his love.
But just as he had resurfaced, so had the other.
“I- I missed you, perhaps.”
Remus snorted at him and chuckled.
“Ha! Then let’s go grab that shower together, huh?~”
He could not believe it. Once again, Remus swept him off his feet. Was this a dream? Had it worked? Was he actually back?
A weird feeling of euphoria hugged him, overwhelmed him from behind and made him laugh out loud and leap at the alive-again lover. He was full of horrible smells and he felt as though he was not quite as warm as before.
Well, it is not like Roman was sensitive to anything but the fact that he was back in front of his feet, back in his arms and chuckling with him, albeit confused.
“What’s so funny, huh? Do I smell that bad?”
Remus giggled and rocked with his love, holding Roman not quite as tight as the other. He held him as though he had to fight death in order to keep him in his life and he would do it. Perhaps he already had done it by now.
Right now, nothing but them mattered. They were back together and Roman would do literally anything to keep it that way. He inhaled Remus’ horribly morbid and withered smell. It was the sweet scent of death, of decomposition and, finally, sweet sweet success.
Love wins.
***
He was ecstatic.
After their shower and more than enough fun together, he was sitting on the couch, Remus holding him as he usually would.
“Oh, I think I got some more commissions to work on.”
Roman moaned in tragedy and hugged him closer.
“I think it is Sunday and you want to spend your time with me.”
Remus sat up a bit, tugging his love along with him. Well, maybe he was right. A certain amount of panic had seized him.
He needed him with him. He could not let him leave, not after he died like this!
“Well, sure thing. We can just go out. You wanna go to a park? Oh, we can fuck in public again!”
Fuck.
That was an issue Roman had never regarded at all.
Remus was back to life but could he pretend like he had never died? He would have to keep him, now.
It was either tell everyone and admit to his doings or hide him forever. As much as Remus was a kinky lover, he would become upset at being kept in one space for too long. He was a chaotic person and a mess at that. If he was restrained a lot, we would go mad and upset.
Roman had to play his cards right.
Could he pretend this was a new Remus?
No.
He had to admit it. Slowly and casually, if any.
“I would like to stay in. Just you and I? We can maybe go on a walk later or on another day~”
Roman looked at him and smiled, sheepish and loving.
He tried his best to hide away his worries and as understanding was Remus was, he raised an eyebrow for a moment while one of his hands brushed through Roman’s hair, gently petting it.
“Is everything alright? Did anyone hurt you? You are being a bit ..extra attached today. I will fuck up anyone who hurt you. Is it Sally from that other department again? I will totally make fun of her if she is being a lil’ jealous bitch again!”
Remus offered him a little smile, trying to cheer him up.
Roman could not help but smile back.
He was a good actor but he was not good enough to fool his lover like that. They have known each other basically for all their lives. Now, Remus could read him like a book if he wanted to and Roman was too emotionally vulnerable at the moment to even attempt at fooling the other.
This whole ordeal was too personal for him to act over it.
“Ree, it’s okay. Don’t hurt her.”
He grinned back, winking a bit.
“You can save that for us~”
The two giggled together, Remus pushing the other playfully and Roman nudging him back with mock offence in his face.
“No, really. I would love a knight in shining armour but there is no need. Right now, Sally is busy with her own love life, so she can stop messing around with me. Holy Pocahontas, I do hope it stays that way. I cannot promise another set of kind smiles if she keeps being such an insolent and mean person for no reason. A prince simply cannot deal with that!”
He smiled and sighed to himself.
“Ah, it is the curse of being popular and loved, isn’t it?”
Remus smiled benignly.
“She’s just upset you are gay ‘cuz she totally wanted to have a go at you but I outdid her advances on that holiday party you had at work.”
Roman giggled in response.
Warmth wrapped around his heart.
Remus was anything but a knight in shining armour. As a child, he would dream of being like any other princess - he wanted to be swept off his feet, to be treated right and to have a royal risk life and comfort for his sake.
He very much got all of it.
However, Remus was not a knight in shining armour. He was the person to kick said knight off his horse, steal a part of his armour because it is “super rad, dude! Come on!” and then settle on the horse and ride off into the depths of whatever hole he wanted to call his home.
Actually, Remus had been of a high status family.
They had been known all over the area, were loved by the community and so on. They cared about appearances and such but Remus had none of it. After finding out about his attraction to anything but cis girls, he took his aversion to his family’s hypocrisy, rigid religious mindset and more and took off.
His family let him go with glares and disapproval when he had taken Roman’s hand in front of them and tossed gifts of “well-meaning” and “loving” parents back at them, telling them he needed nothing more but true happiness in life.
That was what he had said, while squeezing Roman’s hand and right before nudging him over to his motorbike and driving off with him.
He was not a knight in shining armour but like a prince, he had risked his all just to be with him. Sick of an unfulfilled life, he had chosen love over anything else. Irrational and lovesick, his decisions had impressed Roman and motivated him to stay, despite how odd his love was.
Roman would him to be weirdly adorable in his unconventional and special ways.
Roman sighed at the memory.
“Hmmm...”
Remus cleared his throat.
“What’s going on in your boring mind, precious?”
Roman playfully glared at him and stuck his tongue out.
“Nothing! Just about our first biking tour.”
Remus hummed in reply and tugged his love close again. He placed a single kiss on the top of his head.
“That? Why, you want me to toss shit at your fellow teacher friends? I can totally do that. I absolutely got my gear back up and I am ready to tuck myself into those tight jeans and get it going on with you!”
Roman laughed.
“No thanks!!”
He giggled to himself and curled up on top of the other.
“You know, just thought about it and well.. I thought it was romantic. That’s all.”
Remus chuckled.
“Awwww, you have a thing for bad boys, don’t you?”
Roman cheeks fired up at once.
“What? I would never!”
The other gave him the wiggly eyebrows.
“Yeah, sure thing. You would neeeever have anything for them. You have just been dating me for, like, a decade. Nothing special.”
Roman gave the suspicious man a half-glare.
He was right but did he have to say it? He just wanted to tease him further and further. The teacher pouted lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Remus wiggled onto his lap, looking up and giving him the best puppy dog eyes he could manage.
Here is one thing people did not really know about Remus.
He was cute.
Like, he was ridiculously cute! Roman was not just kidding but he was objectively adorable! At the very least, he was cute under the surface of being a defiant little bastard or a proud trash rat. It simply was the truth. He was much more caring than he usually let on. He had big eyes. No- that was a crude understatement, he had HUGE eyes. They were gigantic and with the eyeliner he liked to put on, they became even bigger.
Thus, when looking up at others, his innocently warm eyes, sunshine cornfield kind of warm, it would melt someone’s heart because he had a pure kind of cuteness that could not be ignored nor denied.
No wonder Roman felt his lip quiver and heart shake at the display of his love sprawled over his lap, playfully pouting at him with his most powerful tool at persuasion.
“Ugh - FINE!”
Roman “snapped” in response, smile painting his lips into much warmer and likeable curves.
“YAY!!”
Remus pulled away, giggling once more as he retreated only tackle-hug the other with open arms. Roman shrieked in response, not having seen a side-attack from Remus coming in that fast at all!
The two knocked themselves into the softness of the couch, chuckling like idiots.
“Reeeee you are too heavyyyy!”
Roman whined. The other gasped audibly and pulled off.
“I am not heavy! This is just your guilty conscious! I am actually so light, I will show you something!”
Oh- wow.
That had been a random remark but it stuck with Roman for a little while longer, lingering on his mind. However, he tried to move on and run after Remus. His lover hopped over the couch and sprinted away, off into the kitchen.
“Catch me!”
Oh, how dare he!
Roman moved to follow him as quick as he could but Remus was a flexible little monster. He disappeared into the kitchen and simply seemed gone. The lover took a towel, his steps falling into a cautious slowness. Vigilance took over his features, his mind.
Every step he took was feathered by suspicion. Every look around was marked by his thoughts of possibility and prediction. Step by step, he moved through the kitchen, breaching deeper and deeper into the well-lit area.
Remus had to be hiding somewhere.
Roman eyed some sort of supply closet carefully and frowned.
It was big enough to fit his lover. Maybe he was inside.
Suspense rose in his body and his whole body came to a halt just to spring to life once more, suddenly jerking the door open and checking the contents.
Empty.
Aw, fuck-
“BOOH!”
“AAHHHHHHHHH FOR HAERCULES’ SAKE!”
Remus jumped out of his own reverse, screeching idiocy at the other while Roman simply yelled, actually startled.
“Holy Oscars, why would you do that to me?!”
His pitch had sky-rocketed into heights previously unknown. Remus chuckled, whining a bit as he drew his distraught husband into his arms.
“Ohh.. Ohoho- Oh, no. No, my love. I did not mean to scare you so bad! I only wanted to give you a little shock and get your blood pumping a bit. You know, for the adrenaline, the sweet sweet life juice!”
He planted a kiss on Roman’s hair.
It tickled on his numb body.
Inside and out, he felt faint and bare, but also somewhat tingly at the same time. Warmth was tickling at the outside of his skin, politely asking to be let in. Gradually, his body allowed the world back inside, re-inserted him into reality.
Oh, dear.
His body had barely felt like anything at this moment. He had experienced driving out of himself, leaving his body behind like a light, merely translucent night gown rustling in the calm breeze of the late night. Maybe explaining his existence being thinned out, much like reducing himself and his feelings, was about as close as he could get to conveying how approximate, vague and colourless he had felt in that moment.
“You really scared me!”
He complained, drumming against his chest for just a moment before pulling back, face offended.
“Awww, I am sorry. Can I make it up?~”
He leaned in, a smile on his face.
Roman could feel the other plot shenanigans in front of him.
You know what? He would entertain him for now.
“Well, depends. What do you offer?”
Roman was smirking back at him by now, knowing exactly that he had the position of asking for about anything the other was comfortable with at this moment in time.
Remus leaned closer, taking oner of Roman’s hands he had buried underneath his elbows after pridefully crossing his arms over his chest. He reluctantly let Remus have a squeeze at it while he was raising an eyebrow at him.
“How about..”, he squeezed his hand, looking at Roman’s averted face, “you go back and choose a film?”
Roman turned towards him, just a slightest bit.
Remus grinned, almost invisibly so. He knew he had the other hooked already. Their eyes met, faint blue and crystal green.
“Aaaand.. I will go.. and make some pop”, he emphasised the first syllable of the word, “corn.”
He smiled at him.
Remus turned around to start preparing the popcorn among some other snacks. As much as he was in love and too blind, he could see Remus rest his hand on a turned-on and possibly rather hot stove.
He did not register it.
***
Remus has stayed with him, resurrected and back from his dumb, empty coffin, for about a week. There were more and more really odd things happening.
As a first, he seemed to attract an abundance of flies. No matter how much Roman asked him to take a shower or even helped him get one, there would the flies be, still travelling around him as if he was their king. Even nice smells and different shampoos did not do the trick in fixing these things up.
Another odd thing was that Remus seemed absolutely oblivious to pain regarding his body. Much like last time, when he had not noticed his hand sitting on the hot stove, he has had several instances of squishing and stumping his limbs, running into things and actually falling over from pain while his mind seemed not to notice any difference.
Then, to top is off with number three, he actually never smelled well AND, ha, a surprise addition: he was cold.
Like, he did not feel cold! He seemed indifferent to any change in temperature. No, his skin was always cool. Not ice cold or like a fridge but he always seemed significantly colder than Roman’s touch.
Remus used to be the warm one out of the two.
In all honesty, Roman did not understand what was going on. A part of him assumed it was a part of how and the simply fact that he resurrected him.
However, he did not want to participate in this. He did not want to think these thoughts and face the potential truth of his love dying all over again or being dead rather than alive.
It would hurt him too much.
He could not handle losing him again. The first time had already crushed him and driven him to the brink of insanity.
Right now, Roman was curled up in his recliner, reading a book and sighing to himself.
He could smell Remus.
In a way, he felt disgusted by that but.. he could not help loving him more than feeling repelled by him. It was not his fault after all. They tested it! They tried! Nothing worked.
Well, Roman looked up, trying to identify what the other was doing.
Remus was just walking around, pacing a bit, restless.
Roman had explained to him that he had forgotten some things and that they were on a holiday for two weeks, somewhat. He himself was on bereavement leave while Remus was self-employed and worked on commissions, sort of. He had a crafting shop and would also design some logos and such, in case someone asked for it in order to get it on a crafted item etc.
It was great.
Roman had not had the energy to sign off his account and close the shop. So, Remus was technically still in business, just taking a break to be with Roman a bit. Roman said he had been on a sort of holiday since his school was closed. Why? There had been spillages of certain chemicals and they closed it for two weeks in order to make sure it was safe to go in.
Decontamination and all.
“What is wrong?”
He peeked up from his book and glanced at Remus who blinked at him, somewhat confused. His eyes seemed empty.
For a moment, just a microscopically small moment, Roman felt alienated from his husband so much that he was.. scared. Ice seemed to stab him in his heart and shivers caught him motionless in his spot.
Wh-
Remus’ empty stare felt as if he was not there anymore. No more insides, just a physical vessel. He opened his mouth and said nothing. A sound came from him and it meant nothing.
Roman scowled.
“What’s wrong?”
His husband kept wailing, wandering around aimlessly.
This had been by far the weirdest behaviour the other had ever displayed.
Roman was not sure whether he was so comfortable with him anymore. The sounds, the smells, his actions? It was strange.
The resurrected man slowly moved over to where Roman was sitting, snuggled up and comfortable in his well-scented blanket and one of his favourite books to a rather nice musical. It was the new interpretation to it. He had been dying to get into it and now, bereavement leave had given him this much freedom at last. Even if he would have to work up a storm right after coming back from it.
The lover came closer and for the first time in.. forever, Roman retreated his feet under his blanket and curled up in something he had never felt before around Remus.
Fear.
He was scared.
He hid his limbs under his blanket, discomfort marking his actions. His face was exhausted with thoughts and doubts and terrible worries about what the other would and could do to him.
Was he even still his lover?
Remus stopped in front of him.
Their eyes met, empty and intensely burning with a foreign fire meeting the unbelieving, terrified orbs of a man who wanted to believe and love as he used to.
The husband grinned, a weird growl coming from him. Then he turned to the kitchen.
Roman sighed in relief.
That was weird..
***
Roman hid in the basement, heart thumping in his chest.
There needed to be a way to undo all of this madness, right? There simply had to be something! He had been in the kitchen the other day, after getting some fresh ingredients for cooking with Remus. Honestly, they had more than enough food but fresh was always nice and he just really needed to get out every now and then. Also, he had been meaning to avoid his husband a bit.. he just needed a bit of space. Surely that would happen to any couple stuck together for more than a week without as much as leaving the house, huh?
There was a piece of Remus on the ground.
Roman felt so sick only seeing it. It laid there, still but creepy almost as if it was moving before him. It might as well had done that and he would not exactly be more weirded out than he already had been. Morbidly, it would have been rather fitting had it been moving in any way.
A shiver ran down his spine as he reminded himself of how exactly this piece had found its way onto the floor.
Probably, it all had started with him resurrecting the other.
A whirlwind of thoughts rushed through his mind. Every single strand of thought was just an additional breeze to the chaos wrecking more and more devastation inside of him. Some breezes swooped in the self-blame, while other, storming accusations scolded him for not having understood before.
Yet a soft caress of winds brought the home of innocence, gave Roman his own benefit of the doubt.
Had it been truly his fault?
Could he have prevented it? Had he truly caused this, only rejecting any sign of things going bad?
“In the name of all things Walt and Disney and incredibly gay!”
He called out, cursing.
There was more than enough evidence, now that he recalled.
After all, the low body temperature could have alarmed him. After all, even after days of not being in the icy ground or basement, he had been rather cool.
Another indicator could have been the pale skin. It always seemed as though Rem-.. this.. thing? Had grown paler and paler until the skin was nothing but a whitish, grey mess, turning a morbid shade of death.
On another note, there had also been the smell of decomposition on him. Sweet and disgusting at the same time, he had taken it as a silly side-effect at worst. He had hoped and wished for a relief in this heavy, all-consuming smell. Now, it was all over the interior of his home and he-..
Roman did not have the energy to fight his own mind on these thoughts.
Inside of his whirlwind, he tried to dive into another strand of ideas and words. He reached out and new thoughts surrounded him. He was immersed in the wetness of his own tears and sweat.
Panic and frustration, yet another breeze of grief took him over.
The last signs were something he could never had forgotten or ignored. They had been too prominent. They made his heart thump in a way he had not known he was still capable of. Adrenaline, fear and a negative sort of excitement rushed through his heart and made him feel more alive than he had been ever since Remus’ death and the resulting grief Roman had experienced from it.
A little thought poked him in the head, reminding him that as much as he had resurrected his lover - or at least attempted to - had also resurrected his grief.
The disheartening reality came down onto him.
He clenched his fists, eyes squeezed shut. He swallowed the bitter pills of his own, unthinkable actions.
Consequences tasted disgusting.
He opened his eyes.
To him, the world just looked a tiny bit different compared to before. There was more hope, there was more realisation and maybe even a bit more light inside the depths of his aching heart.
He got up.
Roman had wanted to be the hero of the story, save his lovely husband and protect the prince of his dreams - an idiot spitting at the feet of his “too good” family as he drove off and screamed he was gay and did not care about it or them or anything.
Well, those times were over.
His chest was heavy and his heart was in disbelief.
A vibration made him blink and reconsider himself for just a moment.
Oh?
A message! He had taken his phone with him! He could call-
Nobody. There was no reception in this basement.
BUT INTERNET!
He just got a message and it was coming from somewhere!
Roman took the phone out, looking at the screen as he deactivated it. The background picture was his lover and he, before his death and subsequent failed resurrection, on their wedding day. Of course Remus had worn a mix between a dress and a suit.
It made him smile..
Yet, it also made him upset about that one particular message obscuring his screen, the whole picture.
OH PATTON!
“Am on the way to you, kiddo! See you there, bringing snacks and bread for a nice brunch!”
Oh shit.
It was Sunday.
He had promised he would not cancel this time and now Patton was probably driving and would not see his message until he was here-
Oh.
He was coming here!
Roman’s panic took over, rushing the storms of his internal turmoil once more. Fear and quick thinking settled in before he could even attempt at stopping his own impulsivity. His hands typed replies, asking him to be safe, to stay away and not come in and that he would explain and have brunch but just not today and not now.
He only needed some time.
... He needed some time to kill his demons and his lover.
“Oh, Patton..”
His heart was bleeding in his chest, hurting and pulsating.
He could not lose him, too.
The human’s eyes fell onto the piece of a person he had once regarded to be his resurrected love, but found out to be nothing more but a monster in transformation, taking the shell of a known face.
This was not his lover anymore. He was an enemy.
His eyes stared at the piece he had ripped from the other in self-defence.
Roman would have endured it for so much longer and he would have put up with more and more oddities just for the sake of fulfilling his own expectations of love and life. But seeing as his dream had come back to haunt him and assault him with bared teeth and animalistically hungry eyes, Roman has had no more dreaming in order to uphold his own illusions any further.
The sight of a piece of scalp, a bit of loose hair and dried, crusty blood adorning it, was enough for Roman to swallow down all the love he had harboured in his chest and transform it.
He had to move on.
If not now, there was no other way and time for him to ever move on. He would never forget his husband, his lover and protector. But he would never stand for anyone besmirching his name and body with intrusion, violence and atrociousness.
No more.
He would go out and protect Patton.
Roman would be there to defeat the mistake he had made. He would be his own prince, now that Remus was gone.
It was all he would have ever wanted from him.
The next logical step, after being motivated and having an actual goal to strive for, was to get a weapon.
He was not sure whether he had actually just summoned some sort of zombie thing to whatever but he had Remus’ face and had eaten raw organs like an animal before pouncing on Roman. He had just bought them and now he could not make any food!
Yes, his chore-loving brain was domestic and was really, really upset!
Roman found a baseball bat, some nails.
There really was not much more. They kept some tools and such around here and that was about as good as it got.
A hammer.
Shovel?
... maybe for later...
Roman was about to reach for yet another tool he wanted to examine but a sudden sound made him stop in his tracks.
The doorbell.
His heart sank in his chest.
Patton.
Now, he really needed to be a hero.
Roman rushed up the door and listened, ear snug against the wood. He could hear foot steps thumping through their house - his.. his house.
The door was not open yet. He could not hear Patton but where was Re-.. No. Where was the undead one? He needed to make sure he could not hurt anyone, neither him nor Patton. So, he needed to pass him and this door and then try and open the front door in order to get to Patton.
Roman plotted but one thing was unsure about his current logic. There was just one thing he could not calculate or be sure about. Said thing was just how much the undead one had deteriorated and whether he could even understand the doorbell system calling for him to open the door for a visitor.
Well, he needed to rely on it.
After all, if he did not sense the sounds, then he might as well get to Patton in a bit.
Ah-
The texts!!
Roman had told Patton to go back to the car and wait and in his panicked idiocy, he had committed a genius mood. He had told him he was gonna take a shower, then asked him to get them some special tea brews from a caf´f a few minutes from there.
... if Patton was standing there, he might have read the-
A vibration occurred in the pocket of his pants and it was nothing sexy. It was Patton - not that he was not attractive! Anyway, Roman flipped his phone, hammer in his other pocket and baseball bat in his left.
“Oh! Ooops, sorry. Did not read that. I will brew right back! Tea you in a few! I will let myself in and prepare a table for us, then!”
Oh.
Yay and nay at the same time.
However, Roman had no more excuses to bring up. He had promised Patton and that only meant he needed to take this.. thing? This threat out while under time pressure.
Roman tried to recall any plays he might have read, analysed and even acted in. Was there any advice for how to act? From his ex-husband’s zombie addiction, he knew that you had to hit them in the head. Logically, it kind of made sense. A brain was the thing that made one move and react and all. Without it, there would be no movement and no threat!
Bingo.
As Wallace had said in Braveheart - it was about freedom. He would fight until he and Patton were safe and there was no way around it. Killing was just a means to a more than honourable end.
He would put things back into place, as they were before he had messed with them in the first place.
Roman’s plan had disappeared at once.
It did not matter! It bought him time to think and act. He pushed his phone into his pocket and his ear back against the wooden door. Thin and old, much like the rest of the original house.
This situation made him want to get a bunker.
The teacher took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to remind himself what he was about to do and why it was okay.
For Patton.
For him.
It was not murder, hthe body was already dead!!
He let out a sigh, steadied and more calm by now.
The adrenaline made his fingers shake around the baseball bat, even with the additional consolidation of moral “okayness” concerning this situation.
It did not change the fact there was something out to kill him, especially something wearing the face of a hopeful spell and a denied goodbye to someone he loved more than himself.
Still no steps.
Roman turned the key, readied his baseball bat and opened the door as quietly as possible. It was good to be safe rather than sorry.
He stepped out of the basement and was swiftly grabbed by a hand.
“FUCK!”
The teacher felt his body being tossed to the side, right into the living room.
Thank fucking Mickey Mouse they were not in the kitchen! He would not want to make any kind of mess inside of the kitchen. His eyes swiftly stared up at the intruder, the enemy and stealer of his love and husband.
It hissed at him and Roman grimaced in disgust.
By now, the body was falling apart. The skin was pale and in some spots even peeling off. The smell was horrible. He was nauseous, absolutely deterred.
Nothing but absolute detest was in his warm orbs as he looked up at him.
“Piss off!”
Roman glared at him, making sure to never look away as he got up- or at least tried to. The thing lunged forward and already started grabbing and scratching at him. The uncoordinated movements were too furious and uncontrolled to get to him just yet.
They were to have him let his guard down.
Sadly, Remus’ body was in a much better shape than he was (listen, it is difficult to be a teacher and he was not in terribly bad shape!! Just a bit.. out of shape..!), so it was difficult to fight back.
Disgusting scents drove into his nose as the other’s clawing teeth tried to get to him, to his big nose.
“Ew!”
Roman scrambled to push the other away, push him off and free himself but he was -
...
He was not heavy as Remus used to be. The decomposition made him lighter because he was falling apart. He only needed to fight back enough to wreck his body and then smash him!
The genius thought struck his brain and instead of defending himself only, Roman flipped them both over and straddled the zombie, bringing his fists down onto the enemy.
Roman’s lungs were happy with the change. The constant pressure on his ribs had been taken a toll on him, his breathing and his pain tolerance. Rational thinking had been turned off in extreme situations of pain but at least he had a plan by now.
The zombie hissed.
Probably, the thing was not even in pain, just pissed off at how Roman was in an offensive defence and could not easily be devoured. The former actor hit and smashed and decked as much as he could. His fists rained down onto the other as energy and vision faded from it.
There was not even blood on him, it was only dark and nearly jelly like, like drying blood but much darker.
Oxidation?
Roman did not have the mind to care. He was not Logan!
All he saw was the decaying face of the man he loved and he hesitated again. For a moment, the blood, the smells, the attack and the threat were gone and a weird sort of yearning and nostalgia seized his heart. It was messing with his ambitions and his rationality.
His eyes became soft and he stared into the other, unmovable for just a moment.
His..
He was beating the face of his love.
It was not his love anymore but.. in a way.. he was.. or he had been.
They have had times of reminiscing, they had laughed and cuddled and giggled and made love together. They have had fun times and.. and this was still Remus, was it?
He looked at the deceasing corpse, the eyes odd, the body not even looking like anything or anyone living anymore. A water corpse would have been prettier and more human-looking than this.. than.. him.
“Remus.”
Roman winced at even the mention of his name. He barely believed his own lips having pronounced this word. It was like a forbidden fruit, something he could not just do without being aware of it and the consequences coming with it.
A single tear rolled down the side of his cheek.
It.. it hurt.
Whether it was him at this point or not, he was not sure anymore but it hurt either way. His emotions were attached to the person he had learned to love. This included his ideas, his thoughts, his behaviour and generally his appearance.
It had always been him, hasn’t it?
The creature was.. quiet, surprisingly enough. After Roman had spoken his name, there was no more struggling or clawing and biting. The thing seemed to look at him, staring into his soul.
He felt connected and in love more than ever.
A weird feeling overcame him and before he could stop himself or even consider what he was about to do, words came out of him and spilled from his lips like secrets he was unable to keep.
“I love you, Remus.”
Tears flowed harder from his and he brought down his baseball bat, striking Remus hard. He repeated it until there was only mash on the floor.
By the time Patton was back, he was simply crying on the floor, sitting on the corpse that used to be his lover.
His friend came in, appalled by the smells and terrified by the scene of double crime - stealing a body and somewhat murdering it again.
Neither of them knew what to say about it. Nobody had anything to say. Roman apologised and tried to explain while Patton tried his hardest not to scream or shout in fear.
Books were read and tears were wept. A duo got rid of the shadow of a man. But the only shadow that still remained was the shadow on the duo’s conscience.
Hands intertwined and heads shook.
Fingers trembled.
Not even a shower could get rid of the lingering smell of fear and death. They tried and tried and no matter the amount of soap, the blood in their minds would never be washed.