Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Story Notes:

Author's Chapter Notes:

A/N: In the spirit of Halloween I was inspired to write this, I have quite a bit already written, it looks like it will be about 7-8 chapters. My goal is to fully complete it and post it all by Halloween. I'm not sure how many zombie fans are out there but to you I say, feel free to join me it's all you can eat! :)


Sometime ago, most were alive. Death was the end without reason.
Now they return after they've died…and devour their friends without season.

Gray. Every damn thing.

Looming clouds, abandoned buildings, lifeless flesh.

The world barely cared to put on its face, like a drag queen too tired for make-up.

Bland. Colorless. Dead.

For months all that remained lie broken, looted and forgotten.

Pittsburgh was no exception. It existed still, though only just. It stood in shambles, void of life. Save for the occasional fast runner, the too small crowd barricaded in the Liberty diner, and the two men one block away.

Everything can die. Sometimes you just have to kill it again. With that philosophy in place, Brian pulled the trigger for a second time.

He knew of course that even silenced the sudden sound could attract dead heads directly to them; but there was no other choice. He wouldn't let that thing get Justin.

Over the years he'd gotten used to fighting off other men for the blond's attention; it was kind of like that now. Only the men nowadays were missing body parts that were probably important and wanted to eat a lot more than Taylor's ass.

The thing gave a gasp that had an unnerving crackle like autumn leaves. Hardly recognizable as having once been human, it stared at Brian. Or so it seemed. The jury was still out on whether these things could still see or not. It's pupils were no longer discernible from the white around them.

Brian and Justin had guessed their vision was impaired as their sense of scent and sound seemed unnaturally heightened. Thankfully their motor skills took a dive as well. Turns out these things were less than adept at climbing stairs.

Until recently the two had been holed up in the loft on Tremont. Safely tucked away behind a familiar metal door and each other's embrace.

Being the resourceful little fucker he was, Justin had managed to scrounge up food, weapons and even a generator before everything went to Hell. Which is ironic if you think about it, what with everyone deciding to play Jesus and resurrect.

That food supply, ammunition and electric juice were little less than non-existent now. That morning, after a considerate amount of what Brian had come to appropriately title, 'let's fuck like it's the end of the world sex', they'd heard it. It was there, drifting underneath their shallow panting.

Picking up the remote, Brian went to turn off the barely audible television to listen more intently. Most power lines had long ago shut down, W.E.D.Y.D News was the only broadcast to maintain live feed.

"This just in…We're all fuck outta luck." the station's lone anchor, Trevor Starkweather announced in what appeared to be half relieved sigh, half maniacal giggle.

Granted no real news had been reported in weeks. Even when it had, it'd been less than informative. It seemed nobody knew what had caused the outbreak or knew how to stop it from spreading. In just a little over a month, multiple countries were overrun. By the time it came to the Pitts, the news updates stopped coming.

Ol' Trevor had confirmed he was trapped in the studio alone, with but one working camera and little remaining sanity. It helped though, to project the illusion of normalcy. Brian pushed the power button and pulled Justin to him. They listened.

It was in the apartment below them, perhaps in the hall outside their own. Sporadic thumping echoed in the otherwise quiet building.

Thumpa. Thumpa.

The dead were rising…yet again. Right to the top of the building.

Both men grabbed for the weapon they'd kept on their designated sides of the bed. Silently agreeing to stay silent, they pulled on their discarded clothing and grabbed the bags they'd packed for this very moment.

They were going to have to leave their own little world and venture into the real one. Or at least, whatever was left of it.

Brian attempted to open the door as quietly as possible, it rumbled loudly regardless. Looking both ways, both men were relieved to find the hall empty. Too close though, rhythmic shuffling and groaning carried up from the stairwell. The damn things were learning to make their way up.

Justin wrapped his fingers around the wooden grip of his favorite gun, a custom 1911 that always delivered a smooth and sufficient shot. He brought his other arm forward poised with a tactical knife. Leaving him prepared for both melee and long distance combat.

Justin's booted foot stepped forward first, Instinctively Brian's arm shot out to stop him. The determined blue that glared at him had him quickly pulling it back. Justin was no child in need of protection. If Brian had learned anything from their relationship, it was that.

The blond was stronger than him in many ways. His balance. His equal. His heart.

Brian took the same stance and pressed his back against his partner's. With a clear shot of every angle, they made their way toward the fire escape at the end of the hall.

Months before, Brian had screwed wooden planks to the single window to keep the monsters out. Quickly, he clenched his clean blade between his teeth and tucked his firearm in the waist of his pants. He then pulled an iron crow bar from the bag across his shoulder. He was swift and steady in the removal. The muscles in his arms pulled taught with each tug.

He rearranged his weapons again and helped Justin out of the now open space. Their lungs were greedy for the burst of air that found them; nature's breeze a forgotten luxury.

The deeper they inhaled, the quicker they began to choke. It was not exactly the fresh air they had fondly remembered. It hung like a thick cloud above the city. Tainted not in color but in scent. The world reeked of death.

Justin covered his face with his sleeve and coughed. Brian sniffled and pressed his forehead to the back of Justin's neck. They stood looking down on the nightmare dreamed to life and gave a moment of silence for their old lives.

From up there it almost seemed peaceful. Nothing like the macabre video footage that aired when this chaos first began. Nothing even like the old horror flicks Michael had always made Brian watch on every childhood Halloween.

But they could not remain up there forever, or even a moment more. They had to move before nightfall if they wanted a successful shot at moving through the city.

It was all but a faded memory now, their first attempt of getting out of Brian's building. When the government's sirens had stopped blaring and the military were little more than well-dressed flesh eaters. It was an unnerving scene neither Brian or Justin would ever forget. The heroes turned to monsters. It was the first sign that no one was coming to save them. They had still held hope, but hope was no solution.

That same day, they had fought their way through to the Novotny's home only to find the entire neighborhood engulfed in flames and overrun by those things. The smell was horrific, burning wood and melted flesh. As quickly as they could, Brian and Justin had bravely made their way back to loft, up the same fire escape. Back to their safe haven, boarding the window behind them.

Their destination this time without question would be the Liberty Diner. Brian had never told Justin, but he actually prayed every night that his 'family' was safe. If he knew Debbie, and he did, she was still out there… Serving up second death as a pink plate special.

The climb down the fire escape was a smooth one. No undead limbs grabbed from broken windows, no creatures loomed at the bottom.

They hit the ground with a muted thud and assessed their surroundings. They were on a fairly unpopulated side of the building. They passed a few slain corpses they tried not to see, and Brian's Corvette.

The passenger door was torn off, lying like an amputated limb. The windshield was shattered but not yet ready to leave it's frame. It was covered in cosmetic dings and scratches. As he walked around to the driver's side, He saw the driver was still in it. And by the looks of him, had been for a while now.

Brian's mind sent him a steady stream of fond Vette related memories and he bit his knuckle to stop the cry. He was too poor to afford the luxury of hysteria at the moment.

Justin tugged his partner's arm and dragged him toward the corner of the building. They had passed a few more cars, but hadn't even considered taking one. Even if a vehicle still ran it would only draw exceedingly unwanted attention. Worse still than the trolls that used to drool over them both at Babylon.

Driving a car through a road full of zombies, was fast food. Meals on Wheels.

As they rounded the corner that brought them out to the street, both men stopped steady. Up close the view of the world was very much exactly like those horror films he'd watched with Mikey.

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