For every mile of ocean crossed ☆ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
outstretched) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thingwithfeathers2011-11-10 06:34 pm
outstretched) wrote in thingwithfeathers2011-11-10 06:34 pm
Entry tags:
Coordinate (Super Junior, QMi, one-shot)
Title: Coordinate (Wherever you go, there you are)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,784
Genre: Character Study, Drama, Romance
Fandom: Super Junior
Pairings: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi, ninja!Heechul/Han Geng & Leeteuk+Kangin
Warnings: See the summary? They probably have PTSD although it's not explored? Lots of mentioned/implied side character/OC death. People you like pointing guns at each other.
Summary: Post-apocalyptic AU. Two survivors take the last train headed west.
Author's Note: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
y0naki_x3 as part of kacts. If I didn't specifically mention a SuJu member in this fic, please assume they're just out there somewhere. More notes/explanations at the end. This fic was heavily inspired by Vienna Teng's "Inland Territory" album, especially Kansas (full playlist here).
Cross-posts: DW and AO3.
Coordinate (Wherever you go, there you are)
There's one train left.
Kyuhyun climbs up into the open freight car and listens to the whistle blow. He's one of the last to leave the city, so the car's mostly empty. It's just him and another kid his age, spidery-looking, all arms and legs.
"Hello," the other boy says from across the way.
Kyuhyun pretends not to hear him. He curls up into a ball and tries to sleep.
--
Zhou Mi looks him over carefully. He's thin, pale, mostly hidden in the folds of a blue and white checkered shirt that's too big for him, with a backpack that looks bigger than he is. If he can lift it, he's a lot stronger than he looks. He looks like a misplaced kid who's late for school, or a runaway; he looks younger than he is. Seventeen, maybe, Zhou Mi thinks, staring at the holes in the soles of the young man's shoes.
Zhou Mi scoots over to the open edge of the train car and stares at the skyline. It's early morning, and the sun glitters off the windowpanes and metal spires. It's still a beautiful city if you're far away enough.
He casts another glance at the boy pretending to sleep.
It's a long trip, and Zhou Mi is patient.
--
Kyuhyun wakes up when a fly buzzes right next to his ear. He jumps and makes a startled noise, swatting at it until it zips away.
"Oh," the other boy says. Kyuhyun flicks a glance in his direction. "You're awake," he says, and fumbles in his pocket, pulls out a slightly squashed sandwich. "Do you want some?"
Kyuhyun shakes his head. He gets up, stretching, and walks over to the edge of the train car. They're at another station; a sign reads Allentown, PA. The hills are soft, almost like the Catskills, and covered in color.
"Where are you headed?" the other boy asks.
"Nebraska," Kyuhyun says without turning. His eyes trace a road that stretches off into the distance, curving its way over the landscape.
"Do you know what the last stop is?"
"You don't know?"
"I just got on a train," the other boy says. "It didn't matter which one."
Kyuhyun turns, then. The boy's giving him a slight smile.
"Why not?" he asks.
"Everyone I know is dead."
Kyuhyun stares at him. Zhou Mi doesn't look away.
When he offers the sandwich again, Kyuhyun walks over and takes it.
--
Zhou Mi, he learns, is nineteen and used to be a sophomore at NYU, which explains everything.
"I was a fashion student," he says, sitting close enough to be heard over the clacking roar of the train.
Kyuhyun shakes his head; he doesn't think he fits the part, in jeans too worn to be fashionable and a heavy coat that would suit someone old and frail. Still, he asks, "Were you good?"
Zhou Mi's smile is edged with bitterness. "It doesn't matter much anymore, does it?"
"But were you good," Kyuhyun presses.
"Best in my year," Zhou Mi says quietly.
The sandwich tastes strange after months of canned food and stale water. Kyuhyun tries to make it last, but it doesn't, of course.
"My name's Kyuhyun," he says when it's gone.
--
Kyuhyun wakes up screaming and finds Zhou Mi hovering above him in the semi-darkness, hands skimming uncertainly a few inches above his shoulders. Before he's awake enough to stop himself, he launches himself at Zhou Mi, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.
Zhou Mi stiffens in surprise (and possibly pain) but wraps his arms around him anyway. He leans back until he's resting against the cold wall, pulling Kyuhyun with him, and murmurs nonsense until Kyuhyun's shaking stops.
Kyuhyun swallows hard and buries his face in Zhou Mi's shirt. "Sorry," he says once he can speak.
"It's okay," Zhou Mi says, and doesn't ask. Instead, he reaches out a hand to grab Kyuhyun's emergency blanket. He drapes it over both of them, then returns to rubbing his hand up and down Kyuhyun's back.
Kyuhyun doesn't sleep for a long time, but takes the comfort for what it is, watching the full moon rise through the open door as Zhou Mi's hand slows, and eventually stills.
When Zhou Mi wakes up, Kyuhyun is again on the far side of the train car, asleep and shivering. He'd left the blanket with Zhou Mi.
He tilts his head as he looks at Kyuhyun. "You're welcome," he says softly, before he walks over and spreads the blanket over Kyuhyun's thin shoulders.
--
They've stopped again, somewhere in Ohio, and the hills are slowly giving way to fields of golden grass. Based on the slanting sun and their stomachs, they've decided that it's dinnertime, and the two of them are eating soup out of a can.
"Why Nebraska?" Zhou Mi asks.
"I'm from Nebraska." He takes his turn to scoop up some soup, mostly vegetables.
"Then what were you doing in New York?"
"My mother was transferred two years ago," he says. "I didn't want to go."
"So you're going home."
Kyuhyun shrugs. "Maybe there's still someone I know out there. People are more spread out, maybe—" He breaks off, staring down at the can.
"Maybe." Zhou Mi's voice is hollow.
"Yeah, maybe," Kyuhyun snaps.
Zhou Mi doesn't react, just takes the can from him and swallows a spoonful, mostly broth. "Thanks," he says. "You can have the rest."
The can is still three-quarters full. Kyuhyun gives him a suspicious look. "You barely ate anything."
"You'll need it more than me," he says.
"You're skinnier than I am."
"I'm watching my figure," Zhou Mi says, so prim that Kyuhyun can't help but laugh.
"For who?"
Zhou Mi just rolls his eyes.
Kyuhyun lifts a spoonful of soup. "Eat," he says. Zhou Mi waves his hands and shakes his head, but Kyuhyun makes a threatening gesture; the broth wobbles dangerously, almost tips. "Eat."
Zhou Mi takes Kyuhyun's offering in one neat bite, eyes on his face. Kyuhyun meets his gaze without hesitation as he pulls the spoon away clean and dips it back into the can for more.
Once upon a time, Zhou Mi hated minestrone, but little things like that don't matter after the world ends.
--
Kyuhyun has a lot of nightmares. It's some time before he explains why: after the city was quarantined and left to die, his mother locked him in the basement with enough food and water to last for a year and left him there.
He spent the first day, he said, screaming to be let out until his voice dried up, and the rest of the time listening to the radio, praying, and trying to figure out how to open tin cans in the dark.
He stayed down there for six months, he learned later. But he didn't know that at the time.
Zhou Mi says, "I'm surprised you're not crazy."
"I thought about Nebraska a lot," he replies. "If I thought hard enough, it felt like I was there."
Kyuhyun's quiet for a moment, and then he says, "The radio started playing white noise and I decided it was safe to leave. I loaded up my backpack and asked some people how to get out in exchange for the rest of my basement supplies. They told me a train was leaving the next morning." Kyuhyun shrugs. "It was the only place I could think to go."
--
Zhou Mi's story is less dramatic. He was simply immune.
What he doesn't say, of course, is that it meant he got to watch friends and family and teachers as they died by inches, first going mad and then bleeding to death. But Kyuhyun understands, somewhat. Dormitories were among the first places affected, and entire colleges had been wiped out in days.
"Why didn't you leave sooner?" Kyuhyun says.
"Well, there was the quarantine. And when that was over, everyone was trying to get out," he says. "It was safer to wait until everything...settled down."
"And when it did, you got on a train," Kyuhyun says.
"Yes," Zhou Mi agrees, smiling in a way that says the subject is closed.
--
Kyuhyun's uncle used to say that the quickest way to drive across Kansas was to put a brick on the accelerator and use a stick to hold the steering wheel straight, then fall asleep until you got where you wanted to go.
The train tracks seem as endlessly straight as the Kansas roads, though they're nowhere near there yet. For a moment he wonders if the train conductor is asleep, if he's even alive, if they won't just keep going until the engine runs out of gas or until they fall into the Pacific ocean, whichever happens first.
He tells Zhou Mi this, and the two of them share a laugh, humorless but somehow comforting.
--
The contents of Kyuhyun's backpack are as follows:
"How are you still alive," Kyuhyun asks, baffled.
Zhou Mi gives a delicate shrug. "I'm resourceful," he says. "Between the two of us, I think we have enough to last for a while."
Kyuhyun snorts. "Mostly because of me."
The day before, Kyuhyun had cut his palm open on a can lid. Zhou Mi had pried his hand free from where Kyuhyun was clutching it to his chest, whispering "Let me see," and with gentle, careful movements had washed the wound with the last of the water from his canteen and covered it with antibiotic and gauze. The bandage is still there, a gleam of blinding white peeking out from beneath the fraying edge of Kyuhyun's shirtsleeve.
Zhou Mi doesn't mention this, but Kyuhyun follows his gaze and colors slightly. "Okay," he says. "You're not useless."
"Of course I'm not useless," Zhou Mi says. "How are you still alive? That backpack's a huge target."
"I lived two blocks from the freight station."
--
The last place they stopped was Homewood, Illinois. It's noticeably colder and windier this far north. They sleep almost on top of each other, curled up into a tighter ball than before.
Zhou Mi is still asleep, breathing softly. Scenery passes by the open door, dreamlike and shadowy in the half-light before dawn, but more familiar to Kyuhyun than skyscrapers and asphalt streets. He nudges Zhou Mi with his head until he's more comfortable and snuggles deeper into his angular warmth.
He's content, he thinks. He could live like this, now.
--
In Iowa, corn is dying on the stalks.
Zhou Mi wants to go outside and collect it, but Kyuhyun points out they'd have no way of cooking it. "Besides, that corn is almost overripe," he says. "It must be late October."
"I have a lighter. We could start a fire."
"With what?"
Zhou Mi gestures at the dead plants.
"It'd be smoky, and not very hot," Kyuhyun says. "A lot of that is still green inside."
"Roasted corn," Zhou Mi pleads, and slides out until his good scuffed shoes are resting on the gravel and his pants are pulled up, revealing his bare ankles. Kyuhyun frowns at his back for a moment, but he's sick enough of cold soup that he gives a huge sigh and jumps out of the car after him.
Some of the corn is rotting, but he tries to pick ones worth eating while Zhou Mi, a few steps away, gathers handfuls of stems and dead leaves. They return to the train often, not sure when it'll start up again. When they've collected enough, Kyuhyun takes the lighter. "I used to be in boy scouts," he says.
"We're setting dead leaves on fire," Zhou Mi points out. "It's not like it's hard."
"Still," Kyuhyun says, and gets the fire going. They don't really know what to do without a grate to set the corn on, so they settle for placing the wrapped corn on top of the fire, which is already starting to die out. The smell isn't very appetizing.
"You're from Nebraska," Zhou Mi says. "You're supposed to know how to cook corn."
"I do know how to roast corn," Kyuhyun snaps, "but over a grill, or a stove, not—" he gestures at their setup, which is smoky and pathetically small. "Besides," he mumbles, "I've never had to do it myself before."
Zhou Mi reaches out with a long brown stem and pokes an ear of corn experimentally. Kyuhyun smacks the stick away, then pushes at Zhou Mi's shoulder, frustrated. Zhou Mi lets out a squeal of surprise and tips over. Kyuhyun laughs at him until the corn begins to smell like it's actually burning, and then he curses and tries to turn it over with his bare hands.
Zhou Mi pulls Kyuhyun's hands into his lap and blows on his scorched fingers. Kyuhyun lets him, feeling the cool air stream over his fingertips.
--
"I'm not sure I'm not crazy," Zhou Mi says that night, so quietly that he's almost drowned out by the train's endless clatter-clack.
"Everything is crazy," Kyuhyun says.
"That's what scares me the most," Zhou Mi says, low and urgent, "that everything's crazy, so I won't be able to tell if I'm crazy anymore. There's no frame of reference."
"You're the most sane person I've ever met."
Zhou Mi looks down at him, huddled tight against his chest to ward off the midnight chill, brow pinched as if his questions are merely annoying, not important.
Kyuhyun loops his arms around his neck and tugs a little, too sleepy to be more than halfhearted. "Go to sleep."
--
"Where in Nebraska are you from?" Zhou Mi says. He doesn't know geography very well, but they must be nearly there by now.
"Just outside Lincoln," Kyuhyun replies, whittling away at a stem with Zhou Mi's knife.
"Does the train stop there?"
"It's the state capital."
"That's not really an answer."
Kyuhyun shrugs. "I figured I'd just walk once we got close enough if it didn't."
Zhou Mi shakes his head in disbelief. "Why didn't you ask?"
--
"Kind of rude, aren't you?" the train conductor snaps.
Zhou Mi blinks.
"You've been riding on my train for almost a week," the man continues. "You should have introduced yourself before now. Kids these days—"
"Sorry," Zhou Mi says, "we didn't know you wanted us to."
"He didn't know," he says sarcastically to the dials in front of him. "Do you know how hard it is to find someone to talk to when everyone is dead?"
"Yes," Kyuhyun says.
The man laughs at that.
"My name's Heechul," he says.
"I'm Kyuhyun, and," he points, "that's Zhou Mi." Zhou Mi frowns at him, and Heechul grins.
"It must be cold back there," Heechul says. "Grab your stuff and move up here. It's not like there's anyone else on this train, anyway."
--
Heechul is twenty-four and impatient. His boyfriend's in California, he says, so that's where he's headed.
"Do you stop in Lincoln?"
"Of course I stop in Lincoln," Heechul says, "it's the capital of Nebraska."
"Why are you stopping for passengers? It's not like you're getting paid," Kyuhyun asks.
"I'm a nice person," Heechul says, and gets offended when Kyuhyun bursts out laughing.
"Let me borrow your lighter," he says to Zhou Mi. He flips a cigarette out of the pack in his back pocket. Obediently, Zhou Mi holds the flame to the end until it glows red.
Heechul tilts his head back, spilling smoke into the air above them. The movement has a nervous, flickering edge to it; Zhou Mi feels a flare of pity and doesn't hide it well enough. "Fuck you," Heechul says, but there's no heat to it. He brings the cigarette to his lips again with slightly trembling fingers.
"Doesn't really matter where you get off, you know," Heechul says. "Everywhere is hell."
"I've got family in Lincoln," Kyuhyun says.
"Uh-huh," Heechul says. "And you?" he asks Zhou Mi.
"I don't know," Zhou Mi mumbles.
--
Heechul's tiny sleeping space is warmer than their car was and better insulated against the wind. "You can't sleep in my bed," Heechul says, "but the floor's open. And no sex."
Zhou Mi gives a nervous laugh, but Kyuhyun doesn't react at all. After a moment, Zhou Mi glances over. Kyuhyun's looking out the window at the flat fields illuminated by moonlight, as if he hadn't heard.
--
"You're coming to Lincoln with me," Kyuhyun says. The isn't really enough room, so Kyuhyun is pressed to the cold metal wall beneath the window, and Zhou Mi is half-crammed underneath Heechul's bed.
"I am?"
"Of course you are." When Zhou Mi doesn't respond, he demands, "Aren't you?"
"Do you want me to?"
Kyuhyun doesn't say anything for a minute—Zhou Mi squints, but can't make out his face in the gloom. Then he says, "Are you serious?"
Zhou Mi starts to retort, but Kyuhyun moves forward. The kiss is open and awkward. After a moment, Zhou Mi tries to pull him closer but his elbow bangs against the bed slats. He yanks away with a hiss of pain.
"I said no sex," Heechul yells through the closed door.
"Shut up," Kyuhyun shouts back, and kisses Zhou Mi again, more carefully. It works out better the second time (and the third, and the fourth).
--
"Lincoln," Heechul announces.
"Thanks," Kyuhyun says, hitching his backpack (significantly lighter now) higher on his shoulder.
"Good luck finding your boyfriend," Zhou Mi says.
"Yeah, yeah," Heechul says, waving a disinterested hand, "I'll never forget you, don't forget to write, now get the hell off my train."
--
The Lincoln station looks like a lot of other stations they've seen on their trip across the country; run-down, clumps of grass growing wild between the gravel, the buildings old but in usable shape. And empty.
It doesn't look like home, but nowhere does.
"Town should be about—" Kyuhyun squints, reading his mental map. "Twenty minutes that way, by car," he says, pointing.
"Where's your house?"
"The farm's twenty minutes that way," Kyuhyun says, and points in the opposite direction.
"Let's go there, then," Zhou Mi says, and he can see how Kyuhyun hesitates.
"They're waiting for you, right?" He takes Kyuhyun's hand, giving him a reassuring smile when he finally looks up. "Come on," he says, and Kyuhyun steps towards him, over the tracks.
--
Zhou Mi's feet are hard from months of being constantly on the move, but Kyuhyun's legs are weak from six months of captivity and he has to stop often to rest. Zhou Mi doesn't say anything, but Kyuhyun can see how his eyes never settle, looking for danger.
"There's no one here."
"That's what worries me," Zhou Mi says.
The air gets colder as the hours pass, and there's nowhere to take shelter. There's only them and the sky and the bare, black road that cuts through endless fields. The moon is waning, and the light is dimmer than before. The rustling stalks around them sound like a faraway ocean.
"Keep moving," Zhou Mi huffs, and then, more quietly, "I was worried about this back in New York."
"About what?"
"Cold."
Kyuhyun nods, and reaches for Zhou Mi's hands. Their pace slows a little while Kyuhyun breathes on them, repaying Zhou Mi's earlier kindness in reverse.
--
The cold is inescapable, and sucks the strength out of both of them, numbing their ears and fingertips. Eventually, Zhou Mi is shaking so hard that they have to stop for the night. Kyuhyun remembers enough from boy scouts to make Zhou Mi sit still, shuddering under the emergency blanket, while he gathers as many leaves as he can grasp with cold-numbed hands. Once Kyuhyun ducks underneath the blanket, they pack the edges and cover themselves with what he's collected, then hold each other close, surrounded by the smell of fertile soil and dying plants. For a moment, Kyuhyun thinks the wind almost sounds like the train.
--
The next morning, they still find no one, and the tension in Zhou Mi's shoulders never eases. By contrast, Kyuhyun is comforted by the same landscape that they'd been seeing for the past three days. To him, it says almost there.
Then Kyuhyun sees a flicker of movement on the road out of the corner of his eye and Zhou Mi lunges at him, forcing him down to the ground. The man has a gun and is watching them through the sight.
"We're not infected," Zhou Mi calls at once. Kyuhyun is craning around him to see. "We're just, just looking for—"
"Kangin," Kyuhyun shouts, wrenching himself free from Zhou Mi's hold, "Kangin, it's Kyuhyun, it's me, I—"
The man pulls back in surprise. Zhou Mi shouts a warning, but the man doesn't shoot; he doesn't lower the gun, either, and Kyuhyun skids to a stop some distance away.
"Kangin," Kyuhyun breathes, eyes wide.
"Kyuhyun," the man says, quietly, "I thought you were dead." Kyuhyun furiously shakes his head. "Where's your mother?"
"Gone."
"We're not infected," Zhou Mi ventures again.
Kangin lowers the gun, but neither of them try to approach. "There's a shed," he says. "You remember." Kyuhyun nods, the light in his eyes fading. "I'll give you enough supplies to last you for a few days. We'll see."
"Thank you," Zhou Mi says. Kyuhyun says nothing.
Kangin flicks a glance at Zhou Mi, then back at Kyuhyun. "Wait here," he says. "I'll call when it's ready."
He disappears back into the field, and Zhou Mi sags to the ground with relief. Kyuhyun remains standing in the middle of the road, looking lost.
--
Kangin is standing a good distance away from the shed. Another man is beside him, wearing white. Inside the shed, there's a lamp, sleeping bags, warm clothing and blankets, a jug of water, a hot canteen, and and some cans of food.
"Leeteuk," Kyuhyun whispers, seeing the other man, before his eyes drop back to his shoes.
Zhou Mi swallows hard. "Thank you," he says again.
Kangin shrugs, and there's a twist to his mouth that's bitter and grieving all at once. "I'm sorry," he says. "We're just being careful."
"No, I understand," Zhou Mi says, "I'd do the—"
Kyuhyun's voice is a sharp interruption across the midmorning quiet. "Who survived?"
Leeteuk looks at the top of Kyuhyun's head, at his hunched shoulders. "Shindong," he says. "Yesung. Henry, some of the neighbors."
"Uncle?" he whispers. The two men are silent. Kyuhyun stands there for a few more moments, then turns and stumbles blindly inside the shed.
Zhou Mi looks at the two men rather helplessly. Leeteuk dredges up a smile from somewhere, sad and tired.
"I'm sorry," Zhou Mi says.
Leeteuk nods, his smile faltering but tenacious. "Thank you." His eyes flicker past Zhou Mi, to the shed. "You should go," he says, turning away. "We'll be back tomorrow."
--
"Leeteuk's my cousin," Kyuhyun mutters, staring at the steaming canteen Zhou Mi has placed in his hands. "It was Uncle's farm. Kangin's from the next farm over—he's practically family, too." Zhou Mi sits beside him on the sleeping bag, just listening.
Somewhere inside of Kyuhyun, there's grief, but it's tied up, something he can wonder at from a great distance. "Shindong and Yesung help with the farm too, sometimes." The tea gives off a warm, familiar smell—it's a kind he hasn't had in years, since he left Nebraska years ago. He drinks and passes the canteen to Zhou Mi, who takes a slow gulp. Kyuhyun watches the line of his throat as he swallows, feeling empty. He doesn't seem real; nothing seems real.
"Uncle's dead," he says, trying the words on his tongue. They don't make any sense. Zhou Mi lowers the canteen, slowly. "Mom is dead," he tries again.
"But Kangin and Leeteuk are alive," Zhou Mi says, "and Yesung, and Henry." Kyuhyun doesn't say anything. After a moment, he quietly adds, "and me."
Kyuhyun's eyes are too bright when he looks up.
"I'm alive," Zhou Mi repeats.
"You're immune," Kyuhyun says, suddenly remembering. Zhou Mi gives a humorless laugh.
"I'm not going anywhere," he agrees, bitter fondness in his tone.
Kyuhyun stares at him for another moment, then leans towards him; Zhou Mi wraps him up in an automatic embrace. Kyuhyun tucks his face into the crook of his neck and breathes, just breathes.
"I'm not going anywhere," Zhou Mi whispers, "and neither are you."
--
Whatever Zhou Mi expected to have after the world ended, it wasn't this—a life as a Nebraskan farmer, adopted by a young man who trusted him after a week of traveling. It's better than his city-bred imagination had room for.
Although it's easier for Kyuhyun, who simply has to remember old habits, Zhou Mi is a quick study. He learns how to mend clothing, how to tend to livestock, how to gather eggs, and in the spring, how to plough until his hands peel and blister and his muscles bulk up under the thready new sun. He learns how to barter for milk and butter, how to string lines across the crops and shake them to keep the crows away, and how store food in the fall for the coming cold. Through it all, Kyuhyun is beside him, first as a teacher, then as a partner. Soon enough, Zhou Mi's indistinguishable from the others who make up the remains of the town.
Trade begins again after a few years. A carpenter named Donghae comes by a few times a year, delivering news and plying his trade, until one winter snows him in and he simply never leaves again.
A few years after that, Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun move into an abandoned house a mile down the road, surrounded by a few fields, a small chicken coop, and a goat, dearly traded for. Once a week, they go into town and trade goods with Sungmin and Eunhyuk and the others who form their small community.
Zhou Mi is standing on the porch, watching Kyuhyun talk to one of their neighbors, Ryeowook, whose daughter is seven years old this past spring. She's never known any kind of world but this one, and laughs at Zhou Mi's stories of a world powered by lightning, where people could communicate instantly around the globe. Like many of the other local children, she helps Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun around the farm in return for Zhou Mi's lessons on reading, writing, and arithmetic.
Tonight, she's staying with the two of them while Ryeowook spends the night at Henry's house, helping to watch a pregnant mare. It's not the first time they've played babysitter to a neighbor's child, and probably won't be the last. "You'll be all right?" Zhou Mi overhears as he walks down the front steps.
"We'll be fine," Kyuhyun answers as Zhou Mi reaches them. "She'll be fine." Thoughtlessly, his hand reaches out and finds Zhou Mi's.
Later, after she's been put to bed, Zhou Mi finds Kyuhyun crouched down, warming his hands by the hearth. "How's she doing?" Kyuhyun asks.
"Asleep." Zhou Mi sits down next to him. "How are you?"
Kyuhyun looks up with a soft, warm smile that Zhou Mi could never have imagined when they first met. "I'm okay," he says. When Zhou Mi continues to stare, his smile fades. "What are you looking at?"
"Nothing," Zhou Mi says, "just you."
"I'm more than nothing," Kyuhyun scoffs.
"You're everything," Zhou Mi amends, pulling Kyuhyun's too-warm hands away from the fire and pressing them against his heart. Kyuhyun makes a sound of disgust, pulls his hands free and rests them on Zhou Mi's shoulders.
--
Zhou Mi thinks he's happy, thinks that he's happier than he has any right to be. New York City is miles and years behind him now, but they both still have nightmares sometimes, and he still wonders. Why was he allowed to live, while everyone around him perished? What made him special enough to keep?
"You make me happy," Kyuhyun says, sounding contemplative in bed beside him. Zhou Mi doesn't say anything. "You're enough," he murmurs, then nods, agreeing with himself. He burrows a little deeper into the pillow before falling asleep.
The future stretches out long and endless before them, like the Nebraska horizon at dawn. He doesn't know why he's here, but here is enough, Zhou Mi thinks. Kyuhyun is enough.
This, everything, is enough.
Optional omake here.
—An emergency blanket is this. The specific variation I had in mind was a casualty blanket (but I was hesitant to use that term for fear of giving the wrong idea).
—For those who were curious, the pandemic that wiped out humanity was mostly based on the Spanish flu. At some point before the pandemic, Zhou Mi caught a variation of the virus that was weak enough not to kill him, but similar enough to the killer virus to give him immunity.
—You can read the bones of my first attempt at this fic here (it's rather different).
—I tried to do my research, but if I screwed anything up fact-wise, please let me know.
// written 22 Aug to 4 Oct 2011, edited 1 Nov to 10 Nov 2011
Like what you see? Consider watching![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
southofreality!
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,784
Genre: Character Study, Drama, Romance
Fandom: Super Junior
Pairings: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi, ninja!Heechul/Han Geng & Leeteuk+Kangin
Warnings: See the summary? They probably have PTSD although it's not explored? Lots of mentioned/implied side character/OC death. People you like pointing guns at each other.
Summary: Post-apocalyptic AU. Two survivors take the last train headed west.
Author's Note: For
y0naki_x3 as part of kacts. If I didn't specifically mention a SuJu member in this fic, please assume they're just out there somewhere. More notes/explanations at the end. This fic was heavily inspired by Vienna Teng's "Inland Territory" album, especially Kansas (full playlist here).Cross-posts: DW and AO3.
Coordinate (Wherever you go, there you are)
There's one train left.
Kyuhyun climbs up into the open freight car and listens to the whistle blow. He's one of the last to leave the city, so the car's mostly empty. It's just him and another kid his age, spidery-looking, all arms and legs.
"Hello," the other boy says from across the way.
Kyuhyun pretends not to hear him. He curls up into a ball and tries to sleep.
--
Zhou Mi looks him over carefully. He's thin, pale, mostly hidden in the folds of a blue and white checkered shirt that's too big for him, with a backpack that looks bigger than he is. If he can lift it, he's a lot stronger than he looks. He looks like a misplaced kid who's late for school, or a runaway; he looks younger than he is. Seventeen, maybe, Zhou Mi thinks, staring at the holes in the soles of the young man's shoes.
Zhou Mi scoots over to the open edge of the train car and stares at the skyline. It's early morning, and the sun glitters off the windowpanes and metal spires. It's still a beautiful city if you're far away enough.
He casts another glance at the boy pretending to sleep.
It's a long trip, and Zhou Mi is patient.
--
Kyuhyun wakes up when a fly buzzes right next to his ear. He jumps and makes a startled noise, swatting at it until it zips away.
"Oh," the other boy says. Kyuhyun flicks a glance in his direction. "You're awake," he says, and fumbles in his pocket, pulls out a slightly squashed sandwich. "Do you want some?"
Kyuhyun shakes his head. He gets up, stretching, and walks over to the edge of the train car. They're at another station; a sign reads Allentown, PA. The hills are soft, almost like the Catskills, and covered in color.
"Where are you headed?" the other boy asks.
"Nebraska," Kyuhyun says without turning. His eyes trace a road that stretches off into the distance, curving its way over the landscape.
"Do you know what the last stop is?"
"You don't know?"
"I just got on a train," the other boy says. "It didn't matter which one."
Kyuhyun turns, then. The boy's giving him a slight smile.
"Why not?" he asks.
"Everyone I know is dead."
Kyuhyun stares at him. Zhou Mi doesn't look away.
When he offers the sandwich again, Kyuhyun walks over and takes it.
--
Zhou Mi, he learns, is nineteen and used to be a sophomore at NYU, which explains everything.
"I was a fashion student," he says, sitting close enough to be heard over the clacking roar of the train.
Kyuhyun shakes his head; he doesn't think he fits the part, in jeans too worn to be fashionable and a heavy coat that would suit someone old and frail. Still, he asks, "Were you good?"
Zhou Mi's smile is edged with bitterness. "It doesn't matter much anymore, does it?"
"But were you good," Kyuhyun presses.
"Best in my year," Zhou Mi says quietly.
The sandwich tastes strange after months of canned food and stale water. Kyuhyun tries to make it last, but it doesn't, of course.
"My name's Kyuhyun," he says when it's gone.
--
Kyuhyun wakes up screaming and finds Zhou Mi hovering above him in the semi-darkness, hands skimming uncertainly a few inches above his shoulders. Before he's awake enough to stop himself, he launches himself at Zhou Mi, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.
Zhou Mi stiffens in surprise (and possibly pain) but wraps his arms around him anyway. He leans back until he's resting against the cold wall, pulling Kyuhyun with him, and murmurs nonsense until Kyuhyun's shaking stops.
Kyuhyun swallows hard and buries his face in Zhou Mi's shirt. "Sorry," he says once he can speak.
"It's okay," Zhou Mi says, and doesn't ask. Instead, he reaches out a hand to grab Kyuhyun's emergency blanket. He drapes it over both of them, then returns to rubbing his hand up and down Kyuhyun's back.
Kyuhyun doesn't sleep for a long time, but takes the comfort for what it is, watching the full moon rise through the open door as Zhou Mi's hand slows, and eventually stills.
When Zhou Mi wakes up, Kyuhyun is again on the far side of the train car, asleep and shivering. He'd left the blanket with Zhou Mi.
He tilts his head as he looks at Kyuhyun. "You're welcome," he says softly, before he walks over and spreads the blanket over Kyuhyun's thin shoulders.
--
They've stopped again, somewhere in Ohio, and the hills are slowly giving way to fields of golden grass. Based on the slanting sun and their stomachs, they've decided that it's dinnertime, and the two of them are eating soup out of a can.
"Why Nebraska?" Zhou Mi asks.
"I'm from Nebraska." He takes his turn to scoop up some soup, mostly vegetables.
"Then what were you doing in New York?"
"My mother was transferred two years ago," he says. "I didn't want to go."
"So you're going home."
Kyuhyun shrugs. "Maybe there's still someone I know out there. People are more spread out, maybe—" He breaks off, staring down at the can.
"Maybe." Zhou Mi's voice is hollow.
"Yeah, maybe," Kyuhyun snaps.
Zhou Mi doesn't react, just takes the can from him and swallows a spoonful, mostly broth. "Thanks," he says. "You can have the rest."
The can is still three-quarters full. Kyuhyun gives him a suspicious look. "You barely ate anything."
"You'll need it more than me," he says.
"You're skinnier than I am."
"I'm watching my figure," Zhou Mi says, so prim that Kyuhyun can't help but laugh.
"For who?"
Zhou Mi just rolls his eyes.
Kyuhyun lifts a spoonful of soup. "Eat," he says. Zhou Mi waves his hands and shakes his head, but Kyuhyun makes a threatening gesture; the broth wobbles dangerously, almost tips. "Eat."
Zhou Mi takes Kyuhyun's offering in one neat bite, eyes on his face. Kyuhyun meets his gaze without hesitation as he pulls the spoon away clean and dips it back into the can for more.
Once upon a time, Zhou Mi hated minestrone, but little things like that don't matter after the world ends.
--
Kyuhyun has a lot of nightmares. It's some time before he explains why: after the city was quarantined and left to die, his mother locked him in the basement with enough food and water to last for a year and left him there.
He spent the first day, he said, screaming to be let out until his voice dried up, and the rest of the time listening to the radio, praying, and trying to figure out how to open tin cans in the dark.
He stayed down there for six months, he learned later. But he didn't know that at the time.
Zhou Mi says, "I'm surprised you're not crazy."
"I thought about Nebraska a lot," he replies. "If I thought hard enough, it felt like I was there."
Kyuhyun's quiet for a moment, and then he says, "The radio started playing white noise and I decided it was safe to leave. I loaded up my backpack and asked some people how to get out in exchange for the rest of my basement supplies. They told me a train was leaving the next morning." Kyuhyun shrugs. "It was the only place I could think to go."
--
Zhou Mi's story is less dramatic. He was simply immune.
What he doesn't say, of course, is that it meant he got to watch friends and family and teachers as they died by inches, first going mad and then bleeding to death. But Kyuhyun understands, somewhat. Dormitories were among the first places affected, and entire colleges had been wiped out in days.
"Why didn't you leave sooner?" Kyuhyun says.
"Well, there was the quarantine. And when that was over, everyone was trying to get out," he says. "It was safer to wait until everything...settled down."
"And when it did, you got on a train," Kyuhyun says.
"Yes," Zhou Mi agrees, smiling in a way that says the subject is closed.
--
Kyuhyun's uncle used to say that the quickest way to drive across Kansas was to put a brick on the accelerator and use a stick to hold the steering wheel straight, then fall asleep until you got where you wanted to go.
The train tracks seem as endlessly straight as the Kansas roads, though they're nowhere near there yet. For a moment he wonders if the train conductor is asleep, if he's even alive, if they won't just keep going until the engine runs out of gas or until they fall into the Pacific ocean, whichever happens first.
He tells Zhou Mi this, and the two of them share a laugh, humorless but somehow comforting.
--
The contents of Kyuhyun's backpack are as follows:
- Change of clothes (1)
- Water (1 gallon)
- Soup cans (15)
- Emergency blanket (1)
- Pencil case (1), containing 3 pencils, 4 pens, white-out, and an eraser
- Swiss army knife (1)
- Lighter (1)
- Band-aids (6)
- Roll of gauze (1)
- Triple antibiotic ointment packets (22)
- Canteen (empty) (1)
"How are you still alive," Kyuhyun asks, baffled.
Zhou Mi gives a delicate shrug. "I'm resourceful," he says. "Between the two of us, I think we have enough to last for a while."
Kyuhyun snorts. "Mostly because of me."
The day before, Kyuhyun had cut his palm open on a can lid. Zhou Mi had pried his hand free from where Kyuhyun was clutching it to his chest, whispering "Let me see," and with gentle, careful movements had washed the wound with the last of the water from his canteen and covered it with antibiotic and gauze. The bandage is still there, a gleam of blinding white peeking out from beneath the fraying edge of Kyuhyun's shirtsleeve.
Zhou Mi doesn't mention this, but Kyuhyun follows his gaze and colors slightly. "Okay," he says. "You're not useless."
"Of course I'm not useless," Zhou Mi says. "How are you still alive? That backpack's a huge target."
"I lived two blocks from the freight station."
--
The last place they stopped was Homewood, Illinois. It's noticeably colder and windier this far north. They sleep almost on top of each other, curled up into a tighter ball than before.
Zhou Mi is still asleep, breathing softly. Scenery passes by the open door, dreamlike and shadowy in the half-light before dawn, but more familiar to Kyuhyun than skyscrapers and asphalt streets. He nudges Zhou Mi with his head until he's more comfortable and snuggles deeper into his angular warmth.
He's content, he thinks. He could live like this, now.
--
In Iowa, corn is dying on the stalks.
Zhou Mi wants to go outside and collect it, but Kyuhyun points out they'd have no way of cooking it. "Besides, that corn is almost overripe," he says. "It must be late October."
"I have a lighter. We could start a fire."
"With what?"
Zhou Mi gestures at the dead plants.
"It'd be smoky, and not very hot," Kyuhyun says. "A lot of that is still green inside."
"Roasted corn," Zhou Mi pleads, and slides out until his good scuffed shoes are resting on the gravel and his pants are pulled up, revealing his bare ankles. Kyuhyun frowns at his back for a moment, but he's sick enough of cold soup that he gives a huge sigh and jumps out of the car after him.
Some of the corn is rotting, but he tries to pick ones worth eating while Zhou Mi, a few steps away, gathers handfuls of stems and dead leaves. They return to the train often, not sure when it'll start up again. When they've collected enough, Kyuhyun takes the lighter. "I used to be in boy scouts," he says.
"We're setting dead leaves on fire," Zhou Mi points out. "It's not like it's hard."
"Still," Kyuhyun says, and gets the fire going. They don't really know what to do without a grate to set the corn on, so they settle for placing the wrapped corn on top of the fire, which is already starting to die out. The smell isn't very appetizing.
"You're from Nebraska," Zhou Mi says. "You're supposed to know how to cook corn."
"I do know how to roast corn," Kyuhyun snaps, "but over a grill, or a stove, not—" he gestures at their setup, which is smoky and pathetically small. "Besides," he mumbles, "I've never had to do it myself before."
Zhou Mi reaches out with a long brown stem and pokes an ear of corn experimentally. Kyuhyun smacks the stick away, then pushes at Zhou Mi's shoulder, frustrated. Zhou Mi lets out a squeal of surprise and tips over. Kyuhyun laughs at him until the corn begins to smell like it's actually burning, and then he curses and tries to turn it over with his bare hands.
Zhou Mi pulls Kyuhyun's hands into his lap and blows on his scorched fingers. Kyuhyun lets him, feeling the cool air stream over his fingertips.
--
"I'm not sure I'm not crazy," Zhou Mi says that night, so quietly that he's almost drowned out by the train's endless clatter-clack.
"Everything is crazy," Kyuhyun says.
"That's what scares me the most," Zhou Mi says, low and urgent, "that everything's crazy, so I won't be able to tell if I'm crazy anymore. There's no frame of reference."
"You're the most sane person I've ever met."
Zhou Mi looks down at him, huddled tight against his chest to ward off the midnight chill, brow pinched as if his questions are merely annoying, not important.
Kyuhyun loops his arms around his neck and tugs a little, too sleepy to be more than halfhearted. "Go to sleep."
--
"Where in Nebraska are you from?" Zhou Mi says. He doesn't know geography very well, but they must be nearly there by now.
"Just outside Lincoln," Kyuhyun replies, whittling away at a stem with Zhou Mi's knife.
"Does the train stop there?"
"It's the state capital."
"That's not really an answer."
Kyuhyun shrugs. "I figured I'd just walk once we got close enough if it didn't."
Zhou Mi shakes his head in disbelief. "Why didn't you ask?"
--
"Kind of rude, aren't you?" the train conductor snaps.
Zhou Mi blinks.
"You've been riding on my train for almost a week," the man continues. "You should have introduced yourself before now. Kids these days—"
"Sorry," Zhou Mi says, "we didn't know you wanted us to."
"He didn't know," he says sarcastically to the dials in front of him. "Do you know how hard it is to find someone to talk to when everyone is dead?"
"Yes," Kyuhyun says.
The man laughs at that.
"My name's Heechul," he says.
"I'm Kyuhyun, and," he points, "that's Zhou Mi." Zhou Mi frowns at him, and Heechul grins.
"It must be cold back there," Heechul says. "Grab your stuff and move up here. It's not like there's anyone else on this train, anyway."
--
Heechul is twenty-four and impatient. His boyfriend's in California, he says, so that's where he's headed.
"Do you stop in Lincoln?"
"Of course I stop in Lincoln," Heechul says, "it's the capital of Nebraska."
"Why are you stopping for passengers? It's not like you're getting paid," Kyuhyun asks.
"I'm a nice person," Heechul says, and gets offended when Kyuhyun bursts out laughing.
"Let me borrow your lighter," he says to Zhou Mi. He flips a cigarette out of the pack in his back pocket. Obediently, Zhou Mi holds the flame to the end until it glows red.
Heechul tilts his head back, spilling smoke into the air above them. The movement has a nervous, flickering edge to it; Zhou Mi feels a flare of pity and doesn't hide it well enough. "Fuck you," Heechul says, but there's no heat to it. He brings the cigarette to his lips again with slightly trembling fingers.
"Doesn't really matter where you get off, you know," Heechul says. "Everywhere is hell."
"I've got family in Lincoln," Kyuhyun says.
"Uh-huh," Heechul says. "And you?" he asks Zhou Mi.
"I don't know," Zhou Mi mumbles.
--
Heechul's tiny sleeping space is warmer than their car was and better insulated against the wind. "You can't sleep in my bed," Heechul says, "but the floor's open. And no sex."
Zhou Mi gives a nervous laugh, but Kyuhyun doesn't react at all. After a moment, Zhou Mi glances over. Kyuhyun's looking out the window at the flat fields illuminated by moonlight, as if he hadn't heard.
--
"You're coming to Lincoln with me," Kyuhyun says. The isn't really enough room, so Kyuhyun is pressed to the cold metal wall beneath the window, and Zhou Mi is half-crammed underneath Heechul's bed.
"I am?"
"Of course you are." When Zhou Mi doesn't respond, he demands, "Aren't you?"
"Do you want me to?"
Kyuhyun doesn't say anything for a minute—Zhou Mi squints, but can't make out his face in the gloom. Then he says, "Are you serious?"
Zhou Mi starts to retort, but Kyuhyun moves forward. The kiss is open and awkward. After a moment, Zhou Mi tries to pull him closer but his elbow bangs against the bed slats. He yanks away with a hiss of pain.
"I said no sex," Heechul yells through the closed door.
"Shut up," Kyuhyun shouts back, and kisses Zhou Mi again, more carefully. It works out better the second time (and the third, and the fourth).
--
"Lincoln," Heechul announces.
"Thanks," Kyuhyun says, hitching his backpack (significantly lighter now) higher on his shoulder.
"Good luck finding your boyfriend," Zhou Mi says.
"Yeah, yeah," Heechul says, waving a disinterested hand, "I'll never forget you, don't forget to write, now get the hell off my train."
--
The Lincoln station looks like a lot of other stations they've seen on their trip across the country; run-down, clumps of grass growing wild between the gravel, the buildings old but in usable shape. And empty.
It doesn't look like home, but nowhere does.
"Town should be about—" Kyuhyun squints, reading his mental map. "Twenty minutes that way, by car," he says, pointing.
"Where's your house?"
"The farm's twenty minutes that way," Kyuhyun says, and points in the opposite direction.
"Let's go there, then," Zhou Mi says, and he can see how Kyuhyun hesitates.
"They're waiting for you, right?" He takes Kyuhyun's hand, giving him a reassuring smile when he finally looks up. "Come on," he says, and Kyuhyun steps towards him, over the tracks.
--
Zhou Mi's feet are hard from months of being constantly on the move, but Kyuhyun's legs are weak from six months of captivity and he has to stop often to rest. Zhou Mi doesn't say anything, but Kyuhyun can see how his eyes never settle, looking for danger.
"There's no one here."
"That's what worries me," Zhou Mi says.
The air gets colder as the hours pass, and there's nowhere to take shelter. There's only them and the sky and the bare, black road that cuts through endless fields. The moon is waning, and the light is dimmer than before. The rustling stalks around them sound like a faraway ocean.
"Keep moving," Zhou Mi huffs, and then, more quietly, "I was worried about this back in New York."
"About what?"
"Cold."
Kyuhyun nods, and reaches for Zhou Mi's hands. Their pace slows a little while Kyuhyun breathes on them, repaying Zhou Mi's earlier kindness in reverse.
--
The cold is inescapable, and sucks the strength out of both of them, numbing their ears and fingertips. Eventually, Zhou Mi is shaking so hard that they have to stop for the night. Kyuhyun remembers enough from boy scouts to make Zhou Mi sit still, shuddering under the emergency blanket, while he gathers as many leaves as he can grasp with cold-numbed hands. Once Kyuhyun ducks underneath the blanket, they pack the edges and cover themselves with what he's collected, then hold each other close, surrounded by the smell of fertile soil and dying plants. For a moment, Kyuhyun thinks the wind almost sounds like the train.
--
The next morning, they still find no one, and the tension in Zhou Mi's shoulders never eases. By contrast, Kyuhyun is comforted by the same landscape that they'd been seeing for the past three days. To him, it says almost there.
Then Kyuhyun sees a flicker of movement on the road out of the corner of his eye and Zhou Mi lunges at him, forcing him down to the ground. The man has a gun and is watching them through the sight.
"We're not infected," Zhou Mi calls at once. Kyuhyun is craning around him to see. "We're just, just looking for—"
"Kangin," Kyuhyun shouts, wrenching himself free from Zhou Mi's hold, "Kangin, it's Kyuhyun, it's me, I—"
The man pulls back in surprise. Zhou Mi shouts a warning, but the man doesn't shoot; he doesn't lower the gun, either, and Kyuhyun skids to a stop some distance away.
"Kangin," Kyuhyun breathes, eyes wide.
"Kyuhyun," the man says, quietly, "I thought you were dead." Kyuhyun furiously shakes his head. "Where's your mother?"
"Gone."
"We're not infected," Zhou Mi ventures again.
Kangin lowers the gun, but neither of them try to approach. "There's a shed," he says. "You remember." Kyuhyun nods, the light in his eyes fading. "I'll give you enough supplies to last you for a few days. We'll see."
"Thank you," Zhou Mi says. Kyuhyun says nothing.
Kangin flicks a glance at Zhou Mi, then back at Kyuhyun. "Wait here," he says. "I'll call when it's ready."
He disappears back into the field, and Zhou Mi sags to the ground with relief. Kyuhyun remains standing in the middle of the road, looking lost.
--
Kangin is standing a good distance away from the shed. Another man is beside him, wearing white. Inside the shed, there's a lamp, sleeping bags, warm clothing and blankets, a jug of water, a hot canteen, and and some cans of food.
"Leeteuk," Kyuhyun whispers, seeing the other man, before his eyes drop back to his shoes.
Zhou Mi swallows hard. "Thank you," he says again.
Kangin shrugs, and there's a twist to his mouth that's bitter and grieving all at once. "I'm sorry," he says. "We're just being careful."
"No, I understand," Zhou Mi says, "I'd do the—"
Kyuhyun's voice is a sharp interruption across the midmorning quiet. "Who survived?"
Leeteuk looks at the top of Kyuhyun's head, at his hunched shoulders. "Shindong," he says. "Yesung. Henry, some of the neighbors."
"Uncle?" he whispers. The two men are silent. Kyuhyun stands there for a few more moments, then turns and stumbles blindly inside the shed.
Zhou Mi looks at the two men rather helplessly. Leeteuk dredges up a smile from somewhere, sad and tired.
"I'm sorry," Zhou Mi says.
Leeteuk nods, his smile faltering but tenacious. "Thank you." His eyes flicker past Zhou Mi, to the shed. "You should go," he says, turning away. "We'll be back tomorrow."
--
"Leeteuk's my cousin," Kyuhyun mutters, staring at the steaming canteen Zhou Mi has placed in his hands. "It was Uncle's farm. Kangin's from the next farm over—he's practically family, too." Zhou Mi sits beside him on the sleeping bag, just listening.
Somewhere inside of Kyuhyun, there's grief, but it's tied up, something he can wonder at from a great distance. "Shindong and Yesung help with the farm too, sometimes." The tea gives off a warm, familiar smell—it's a kind he hasn't had in years, since he left Nebraska years ago. He drinks and passes the canteen to Zhou Mi, who takes a slow gulp. Kyuhyun watches the line of his throat as he swallows, feeling empty. He doesn't seem real; nothing seems real.
"Uncle's dead," he says, trying the words on his tongue. They don't make any sense. Zhou Mi lowers the canteen, slowly. "Mom is dead," he tries again.
"But Kangin and Leeteuk are alive," Zhou Mi says, "and Yesung, and Henry." Kyuhyun doesn't say anything. After a moment, he quietly adds, "and me."
Kyuhyun's eyes are too bright when he looks up.
"I'm alive," Zhou Mi repeats.
"You're immune," Kyuhyun says, suddenly remembering. Zhou Mi gives a humorless laugh.
"I'm not going anywhere," he agrees, bitter fondness in his tone.
Kyuhyun stares at him for another moment, then leans towards him; Zhou Mi wraps him up in an automatic embrace. Kyuhyun tucks his face into the crook of his neck and breathes, just breathes.
"I'm not going anywhere," Zhou Mi whispers, "and neither are you."
--
Whatever Zhou Mi expected to have after the world ended, it wasn't this—a life as a Nebraskan farmer, adopted by a young man who trusted him after a week of traveling. It's better than his city-bred imagination had room for.
Although it's easier for Kyuhyun, who simply has to remember old habits, Zhou Mi is a quick study. He learns how to mend clothing, how to tend to livestock, how to gather eggs, and in the spring, how to plough until his hands peel and blister and his muscles bulk up under the thready new sun. He learns how to barter for milk and butter, how to string lines across the crops and shake them to keep the crows away, and how store food in the fall for the coming cold. Through it all, Kyuhyun is beside him, first as a teacher, then as a partner. Soon enough, Zhou Mi's indistinguishable from the others who make up the remains of the town.
Trade begins again after a few years. A carpenter named Donghae comes by a few times a year, delivering news and plying his trade, until one winter snows him in and he simply never leaves again.
A few years after that, Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun move into an abandoned house a mile down the road, surrounded by a few fields, a small chicken coop, and a goat, dearly traded for. Once a week, they go into town and trade goods with Sungmin and Eunhyuk and the others who form their small community.
Zhou Mi is standing on the porch, watching Kyuhyun talk to one of their neighbors, Ryeowook, whose daughter is seven years old this past spring. She's never known any kind of world but this one, and laughs at Zhou Mi's stories of a world powered by lightning, where people could communicate instantly around the globe. Like many of the other local children, she helps Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun around the farm in return for Zhou Mi's lessons on reading, writing, and arithmetic.
Tonight, she's staying with the two of them while Ryeowook spends the night at Henry's house, helping to watch a pregnant mare. It's not the first time they've played babysitter to a neighbor's child, and probably won't be the last. "You'll be all right?" Zhou Mi overhears as he walks down the front steps.
"We'll be fine," Kyuhyun answers as Zhou Mi reaches them. "She'll be fine." Thoughtlessly, his hand reaches out and finds Zhou Mi's.
Later, after she's been put to bed, Zhou Mi finds Kyuhyun crouched down, warming his hands by the hearth. "How's she doing?" Kyuhyun asks.
"Asleep." Zhou Mi sits down next to him. "How are you?"
Kyuhyun looks up with a soft, warm smile that Zhou Mi could never have imagined when they first met. "I'm okay," he says. When Zhou Mi continues to stare, his smile fades. "What are you looking at?"
"Nothing," Zhou Mi says, "just you."
"I'm more than nothing," Kyuhyun scoffs.
"You're everything," Zhou Mi amends, pulling Kyuhyun's too-warm hands away from the fire and pressing them against his heart. Kyuhyun makes a sound of disgust, pulls his hands free and rests them on Zhou Mi's shoulders.
--
Zhou Mi thinks he's happy, thinks that he's happier than he has any right to be. New York City is miles and years behind him now, but they both still have nightmares sometimes, and he still wonders. Why was he allowed to live, while everyone around him perished? What made him special enough to keep?
"You make me happy," Kyuhyun says, sounding contemplative in bed beside him. Zhou Mi doesn't say anything. "You're enough," he murmurs, then nods, agreeing with himself. He burrows a little deeper into the pillow before falling asleep.
The future stretches out long and endless before them, like the Nebraska horizon at dawn. He doesn't know why he's here, but here is enough, Zhou Mi thinks. Kyuhyun is enough.
This, everything, is enough.
Optional omake here.
—An emergency blanket is this. The specific variation I had in mind was a casualty blanket (but I was hesitant to use that term for fear of giving the wrong idea).
—For those who were curious, the pandemic that wiped out humanity was mostly based on the Spanish flu. At some point before the pandemic, Zhou Mi caught a variation of the virus that was weak enough not to kill him, but similar enough to the killer virus to give him immunity.
—You can read the bones of my first attempt at this fic here (it's rather different).
—I tried to do my research, but if I screwed anything up fact-wise, please let me know.
// written 22 Aug to 4 Oct 2011, edited 1 Nov to 10 Nov 2011
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