The excruciating pain that Jinyoung expected never came. Instead, he instinctively flinched as he felt air woosh past his ear and heard the sound of a thick slice followed by a thump. Am I dead now? He wondered, confused as to why this time being stabbed was so painless. But then it occurred to him that he was still standing, which would not be the case if he were dead, and finally had the courage to open his eyes. Mark stood before him, panting heavily, and watching Jinyoung carefully. Jinyoung saw Mark's eyes flicker downwards and followed his glance. His eyes widened when he saw the dead body of the first biter at his feet just behind him. It must have been mere centimetres from claiming him.

"I tried to be careful, I swear," Jinyoung whispered.

"Careful," Mark said as he wiped the blood from his knife onto Jinyoung's sleeve, "Doesn't cut it anymore." Jinyoung opened his mouth but found he had no reply ready and by the time he was able to form some kind of response Mark was already back in the storage room. He watched as Mark picked up his dropped rucksack and box of spaghetti, and exited the room without sparing another look at Jinyoung. Guilt pricked Jinyoung's heart as he watched the older man leave. He'd tried to be helpful and had ended up almost getting them both killed. In that moment he honestly wished Mark had never found him in the woods and he had just been allowed to bleed to death, and no one would have to risk their lives for him anymore. Then, he shook his head and mentally told himself to pull himself together. He began to edge back around the body to pick up his own bag from the corridor but then let out a small gasp of pain. He held his hand to his side squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When he moved away his hand he saw his palm painted red. Jinyoung bit his lip worriedly. Hopefully he could make it back to the police station. It wasn't that far. He'd just have to pray he didn't encounter any more biters, or else he'd be screwed. Pressing one hand to his wound, he ran after Mark wincing as he went.

Jinyoung stumbled after Mark who kept up a brisk pace down the main road. He could feel warm liquid leaking trough his fingers pressed to his side. It dripped onto the tarmac below leaving a grim trail behind him. Jinyoung had thought he could make it but when he once again slipped on the same newspaper that he had on the way there he could no longer hold it in.

"Mark!" he called. The brunette continued walking as if he had not heard. "Mark!!!" Jinyoung called again, his tone edged with desperation. Mark looked back and then rushed over when he realised the other was kneeling in pain.

"Is it the cut?" He asked as he reached Jinyoung. He received a nod of confirmation from the paled boy. Mark rummaged through his backpack muttering "bandages, bandages" and produced a white roll. He tore off a strip. After sealing the wound he helped Jinyoung to stand. "Can you walk?" He asked and got another nod. With Jinyoung's arm across his shoulder, Mark allowed Jinyoung to lean most of his weight against him. They both reached the police station without further hazard.

"Sit." Mark instructed as soon as they were inside and the door securely locked behind them. Jinyoung obeyed and seated himself on a chair at the kitchen table. Mark brought out a first aid kit from the cupboard. "Shirt," he said. Jinyoung hesitated but then realised he was being foolish and quickly pulled his t-shirt over his head, grimacing as he did so.

"Is it bad?" He asked not daring to look down himself. Mark knelt down in front of him, peeled away the temporary bandage and began to dab at it with a wet cloth.

"Yep."

"Feels it," Jinyoung said digging his nails into his leg to stop himself whimpering. He scrunched his eyes closed and dug crescents into his palm as Mark started to restitch his wound. He wanted to scream, quite honestly. But he knew that would be of no help and probably end up with Mark stitching his mouth up instead. When it was finally over, Jinyoung managed a weak "Thank you." Mark acknowledged this with a flicker of his eyes as he put away his medical kit.

It was sometime later on when they were unpacking their bags that Jinyoung noticed Mark had stopped taking food out of his own backpack and was staring at him. Jinyoung pretended not to notice and continued to pull out packets of rice but was watching warily out of the corner of his eye as Mark stood up and left the room. When the other came back he was holding a machete. Jinyoung continued to act unaware but his guard had gone up. He jerked back when he suddenly found himself facing the blade. He looked up from the bag at Mark who was holding the machete out to him. Jinyoung didn't dare move.

"Take it," Mark instructed, flipping the sword round so that its hilt was facing towards Jinyoung. He took it hesitantly, wary of such a lethal weapon.

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"You need it," Mark replied simply before going back to his bag. Jinyoung studied the weapon carefully as if it were more than just a machete, as if it held some kind of secret. He wondered if this meant Mark was beginning to trust him properly now. That was surprising considering Jinyoung had been pretty much useless in their 2v2 battle. As he watched Mark's lean back flex as he now begun to fill the cupboards on the wall it occurred to Jinyoung that it would be so incredibly easy to kill him right now. It would be so easy to just run those couple metres and push the sword through Mark's back. As he thought this, the machete began to feel heavier in his hands, as if he had just realised the true power of such an instrument. But then, the moment was gone. In an instant. He blinked in shock and dropped the sword on the table next to him as if it were made of burning coal. He stared horrified at the tool lying on the flat surface. He was aghast that he'd thought such a thing. He couldn't even kill a biter, let alone a human. And especially not a human who had offered him a place to heal, food and safety, despite his strange hostility. Jinyoung had only held the weapon in his hand for a brief moment, but it was already turning him into one of the others.

"What's your plan?" Jinyoung said suddenly.

"My what?" Mark replied, taken off guard.

"You know, your plan," Jinyoung leaned against the table as he spoke with an uncharacteristic layer of sarcasm, "What are you planning to do here? Just live out the apocalypse?" Mark didn't reply. He turned back to the cupboards and continued unpacking. "You're planning to stay here long-term, right? You're happy to just live here and die...alone?" Mark stopped what he was doing and turned his head slightly.

"What is it to you?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Jinyoung asked.

"Leave. If you want. I'm not stopping you," Mark said still only partially turned towards Jinyoung. Jinyoung blinked in surprise.

"I can leave?" Jinyoung said disbelievingly.

"Sure. I don't care," Mark shrugged.

"I want to find my friends," said Jinyoung.

"So?"

"I want you to help me."

"Help you?" This time Mark turned around to fully face Jinyoung. His auburn hair fell over his eyes, making his expression barely discernible. "Why would I do that?" 

"You could join our group. You wouldn't have to be alone anymore. You'd have people you could rely on. People to watch your back," Jinyoung tried to persuade him.

"I'm fine being alone. I can watch my own back. I'm careful."

"But careful doesn't cut it anymore, does it?" Jinyoung said quietly. In one sudden, violent movement Mark swept a stack of cans off the counter in a burst of anger. They clattered to the floor, ringing out against cold tile.

"I've had enough of this. Want to stay? Stay. Want to leave? Leave. But I won't be coming with you."

"But Mark-"

"No! Just shut up," Mark's knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. Jinyoung saw he was pushing too far and looked away in defeat.

"I just want to find my friends again," he sighed.

"Some friends they are if they lost you."