Chapter Text
Blood soaked through layers of fabric, through the silk he had been pressing on the wound, until it covered his hand, dark-red, sticky and warm. The zombie bite he had gotten a few days ago was drowning between the other scratches, cuts and wounds, as meaningless as a little sprout growing next to an old oak's roots. His head felt like a thunderstorm was raging inside it, yet by some miracle was he still standing, even though his legs felt like jelly.
Most of his sight was obstructed by blood that had caught in his lashes as it ran down from his head. It was stupid but what other choice did he have? Either he let the woman standing in front of him kill him or he jumped into the river. Would he even survive the latter? What if he remembered wrong and would hit the asphalt when he jumped? In this state he couldn’t swim, maybe he’d drown. His only chance was probably that someone would see and help him.
But again: what other choice did he have?
None.
Either the river or her.
The sky strechted dark above him as the already half-broken window splintered into dozens of small pieces. At the horizon the sky had a light blue colour, still you could see the stars, thousands of little white points splattered over the sky.
Cold water splashed all around when he hit the surface. Soon unconsciousness hugged him like the deeper waters of the river, he was sinking into.
Wind flew howling through the decayed streets of Paradise City. At the horizon the sun hung low, almost high enough that zombies wouldn't come out and attack him, still even as this morning was rather cold, Saps had decided to go on a walk.
There wasn't even an actual goal by the way his feet carried him through the city. He was really just wandering around, but there was nothing wrong about that, right now he had what he wanted. A bit of time alone; just to think and get away from people he couldn't trust. A fact, he found kind of sad, he'd like to trust them - would even like to befriend them - but they lied about the machine, changed what was written in the book. These actions could end up in someone dying. How could he trust them?
Yet even if they didn't do that, even if they were trustworthy, he wouldn't try to befriend them. But still the memory of his last friendship was like the cure: so far away.
A friend in this city would be nice. Who knew how long it would take him to find a cure? But sadly were friendships not his cup of tea.
Not yet, not in this world, and especially not in this city.
But maybe after everything. When he has a cure, when he has the way to stop these perpetual processes - you may call them. Because in this city - and even outside of it - people almost died daily because of the infection. The pain of losses had the city in its grip like the plants on the buildings and streets. Maybe when it wasn't only a question of time until you lose someone, maybe then will he go and find some friends. It wouldn't have a point before. 'Cause every friendship, relationship, bond made in this world was a process of finding someone and losing them. Everything ended sooner or later. The infection only made it happen quicker.
It didn't happen often that you find an uncounscious, soaked person on a riverside, even stranger in a place like this. The peak of it was probably that the man - Saps very much knew - was bleeding, like a lot actually. Enough to paint the sand red and stain his clothes.
When did this even happen? The last time Saps saw Baablu, he was doing perfectly fine. That had only been one or two days ago.
Saps couldn't let him lay here, Baablu would surely die from the amount of blood he lost through the large wound at his side. It looked pretty bad. A human must have done this; maybe with a sword or an axe? Practically everyone in this city came into question, after all you couldn’t trust anybody. Still Baablu was new here and he had been nice, so why would someone attack him?
Was he even still alive, Saps questioned as two of his fingers moved to the other’s neck. A pulse - but weak, barely there. The realisation that he wasn’t breathing though, swept through the scientist with a fair amount of fear, which soon mixed with nervousness as he moved wet hair slightly pinker than strawberry milk aside, to breath into the man five times. Baablu was nice, Saps liked him, he didn't want him to die. The wet fabric felt unpleasant underneath his hands as he placed them on Baablu's chest.
One, two, three, four, five... twenty-nine, thirty.
Two rescue breaths.
And again thirty compressions and two breaths.
The rhythm caught him like a whirlpool. He lost himself in it and got ripped out again as the pink-haired coughed out water.
One step closer to the living again, breathing.
They probably shouldn't stay out here at the river. Carrying Baablu into a near building wasn't particularly easy. Saps just wasn't the strongest. The door fell shut behind him with a click as he laid the other down in a corner. The room was old and dirty. Full of dust and plants.
He still had to take care of the injuries Baablu had, including the large slash which had him almost bleeding out, and some older cuts and scratches. There was a zombie bite on his arm, covered with nothing but an old and simple cloth.
Originally he had brought these bandages for himself, now he used them on someone else. But did that even matter After all he was saving a life.