Chapter Text
“I want to go home.”
Juan side-eyed Sha. “So what else is new?” He muttered.
“There is absolutely nothing new about that.” Answered Sha. “I never wanted to come out here in the first place. It is too bright, too cold, and there are too many strangers, and yes I was aware that you were saying that rhetorically so please quit looking at me like I am mentally deficient.”
“Then why did you answer as if…gah.” Juan scowled, cheeks flushed red. “I didn’t actually mean for you to…Oh whatever. We’ve only been out here 5 minutes, so would you PLEASE just try and stick it out? You are never going to get better at being around other people if you don’t practice at it.”
“I am still not entirely convinced that there is any wisdom in forcing myself to become accustomed to something I hate so much, especially given how high the risks are.” Sha eyed a nearby group of survivors (who were noticeably trying to give the red-headed cured as wide a berth as possible). “I am also entirely certain that I am not wanted out here.”
“See, THIS is what I'm talking about…how on earth do you expect to get better with a shitty attitude like that?”
“Better. You think me changing a fundamental part of my nature would make me ‘Better’.”
“That's NOT what I mean and you know…oh whatever, we'll talk about this later. The point is, the fresh air will do you some good, and you'll get a chance to hear one of my buddies play…”
“Standing out in the street, in the middle of a crowd of people to whose very presence I am a danger, listening to a woman I do not know play a mandolin. Yes, that sounds like a thing I would be interested in.”
"Well, it's something I'm interested in!"
"I fail to see why you could not have come alone, then. I am not so very helpless that I cannot manage a single evening by myself."
"...okay, let's pretend for a second that leaving entirely you to your own devices for an entire evening isn't a terrible idea...yeah, I COULD conceivably have come here alone, HOWEVER I do not see why you should avoid at least TRYING stuff that I like to do, if only for the fact that I do shit that you like to do all the damn time."
"...Would it not be more honest for you to simply say that you find me and my hobbies boring, and that you would rather go out and have fun on YOUR terms, but you would feel guilty just leaving me by myself?"
Juan flushed. "I would NEVER say anything like that!" He snapped.
"Perhaps not out loud." Sha's face was unreadable. "Perhaps not in so many words."
And that was how they ended up listening to the first half of Gloria's show in a stony silence.
In truth, it could have been worse...Juan had had the sense to find a rather out of the way spot on the closed off street that served as the makeshift Performance space. In it, there was a kind of alcove created by a dilapidated awning and a boarded up doorway, so Sha was out of direct sunlight and had his back to something solid.
As to the performance itself, Gloria's music was...well, flawed, but by no means terrible. Her voice was good, anyway, and her mandolin playing was, as far as Sha could judge, quite skillful.
Moreover, she was a good performer, in as much as Sha could judge that. She was pretty and engaging, and perfectly at ease in front of an audience.
Her writing on the other hand...she had a strong point of view, and a clear understand of song/narrative structure, but there was just something a bit too...precious? Pretentious? Something that didn't quite fit the kind of stories she was trying to tell. (most of which, understandably, were about her experiences as a survivor.)
Sha wanted to ask Juan about it. As much as the witch criticized his handler's own writing at home, Sha was more than willing to admit that Juan knew more about music than he ever would. Juan would have the right words for describing just why Gloria's music wasn't quite working, for why it sounded so...garage band? No. Amateurish? Somewhat, maybe, but that didn't feel like the right thing either.
These thoughts were running through Sha's head with Gloria reached the end of her current number, and after taking a sip of water (during which the crowd...actually not a HUGE crowd, just big enough to make Sha uncomfortable...applauded politely), the girl announced her next piece. The witch winced.
"Okay, this next one is brand new, and still kind of a work in progress, so I hope you'll all be patient with me and give it a shot." She laughed, a bright smile on her face, as she fiddled with the tuning knobs on her instrument. "It's...sort of an experiment for me, too...I wanted to try to see if I could write from the POV of..you know...one of THEM. Cause it's an idea I've had stuck in my head for a while now, you know? Anyway, the basic theme here is about loss...loss of memory, loss of humanity, lost pasts..."
"Oh, Dammit, I told her this one wasn't ready yet." Muttered Juan.
"Is she seriously about to sing something from the point of view of an infected...?"
Juan gritted his teeth. "Yes. Yes she is."
"Mr. Juan...I am almost afraid to ask...but has this young woman ever spoken to anyone in the cured community...?"
"What do you think?"
She started singing. Sha cringed involuntarily. "I am going to guess that the answer to that is 'no.'"
"You are allowed to be more honest than that. She's a sweet kid, really, but...fuck, is it obvious she never expected a cured person to hear this. 'Loss' my ass...the theme of this song is 'I may have lost everything but thank god I'm not a damn zombie.'"
"It IS a valid sentiment..." Sha said, hesitatingly, before snapping his jaw shut. He'd been ABOUT to add that it also was a not-so-surprisingly common sentiment. The expression on Juan's face warned him against saying this.
Really, this was one of the most frustrating aspects of dealing with Juan. It was almost as if his handler had this one huge willful blind spot when it came to Sha. He seemed almost incapable or unwilling to acknowledge the simple fact that, no matter what they did, the ex-witch was ALWAYS going to be different; that most of the survivors were probably never going to really trust him or want him around for not entirely unreasonable reasons.
The witch pondered this for the rest of Gloria's set, and was no nearer to finding an answer at the end as he was at the beginning. At least the crowd's breaking up a bit. He thought, as he watched the girl pack up her minimal equipment.
“Right, that was lovely, home now?” Sha said, turning to look at his handler.
Juan shook his head, and grabbed Sha by the wrist. “Dude, no, we gotta go talk to her a bit! I promised her we’d show up, and I wanna introduce you to her.”
“Did you actually specifically mention that you were bringing ME, and if so, does Miss Gloria know anything about my condition?”
“Well…not in so many words…”
“She has no clue, does she.”
“She knows I’m a volunteer helper, and she knows that I was planning on bringing a friend today….”
“I fail to see how that would necessarily follow that she would conclude that you would be foolish enough to bring someone with MY condition out here. I somehow doubt that your friend is going to be pleased when she finds out.”
“Oh chill out and give the woman a chance. I'm sure she'll like you when she gets a chance to know you.”
Sha sighed and let Juan drag him along. Well, maybe he'll learn something from this. He thought, internally wincing when the girl caught sight of them.
“Juan! You made it.” The singer beamed…at least until her eyes settled on the cloaked red head standing next to her friend. “Is that…wait.” She peered, and her smile shrank further. “Juan, did you really bring your…I mean, this is your…?”
“Gloria, this is my FRIEND, Sha. We’re PRETTY sure that’s his real first name, anyway…I mostly just call him Mage-y. Sha, this is Gloria.”
“HIS…i…he’s a boy?!”
“I am male, yes.” Answered Sha. “And yes…I do speak.”
"...and you speak...very well!" she said, visibly struggling to smile.
"...thank you, Miss Gloria?" Sha said, while thinking Oh god, she's going to be one of THOSE survivors. He'd come to expect certain reactions from the survivor side of the community, ranging from a certain kind of cautious indifference to outright hostility. But then there was the kind that...clearly didn't trust or like infected, would never voluntarily spend time with them, but when directly confronted with one, would go out of their ways to be nice. Because god forbid anyone think they weren't Good People.
"Yeah! You totally sound like a normal...I mean you can hardly TELL...I mean..."
"I sound just like a real person?" It came out as more of a challenge than he meant it to, and he almost immediately felt terrible when the girl turned bright red and started stammering apologies.
"Hahaha, hey, don't give the lady a hard time, Mage-y." Laughed Juan, grabbing Sha by the shoulder and shaking him a touch harder than was strictly necessary. "Sha's got a weird sense of humor, Gloria. Don't mind him."
"Oh...? Hahaha, okay. Umm...SO, changing the subject, what did you guys think of my show?"
Juan and Gloria fell to talking shop; after a few minutes, Sha stopped trying to feign interest in the topic. He had nothing to add, and he couldn't follow what either of the musicians were talking about. Not that either of them really seemed to notice that he'd dropped out of the conversation. He wouldn't have been surprised at all if it turned out they'd forgotten Sha was there.
(If that was the case, Sha could not even bring himself to blame Juan. It made sense that someone as objectively handsome as his handler would be more interested in talking to the pretty little mandolin player than…well.)
Sha tugged on the loose bandage thread with his teeth, and considered the merits of interrupting them to tell Juan that his nerves were starting to wear thin. Was it worth the very real possibility of just being told to tough it out for a bit longer? Or the even more real probability that he would then have to deal with his handler being in a bad mood once they got home?
Then again, maybe Juan was actually distracted enough that Sha could just sort of…slip away and go back to their shared apartment without him noticing. Was it worth trying and risking getting lectured at by an indignant Juan later? Hmmm…
Before he could finish that line of thinking, someone bumped into him hard enough to almost knock him off of his feet. Giving a surprised yelp, Sha flailed, tried to right himself, and overbalanced. The law of averages being what they were, that was the exact moment a second person unknown bumped into him, knocking him over completely. Sheer instinct compelled the ex-infected to put his hands out to catch himself.
He hit the ground, landing with his full weight on his mutilated and already aching hands.
Sha bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, but somehow managed to keep from yelling out. He blinked tears out of his eyes. It was okay. It was fine. No harm done. No need to bother Juan with this if he hadn't noticed. Sha could just wait until the worst of the stabbing pain had gone away, and then just carefully stand up and…
A foot came down heavily on his right hand, and ground down for one agonizing second. Not screaming was suddenly no longer a possibility for Sha. The last thing he heard before the static filled his brain was the sound of Juan yelling. Oh he did NOT sound happy. Sha wanted to apologize to him for…for…interrupting the…whatever it was that Sha was interrupting, but he couldn't get his mouth to form anything more coherent than a scream…
…………….
In the back of his mind…in the part that wasn’t too busy being angry and panicked in equal parts…Juan was groaning in frustration. How was he supposed to get the skinny mage to leave the house EVER when shit like this happened?
Ignoring Gloria's panicked sounding protests, Juan ran the short few feet towards the scene of the rapidly escalating accident, and all but LIFTED the idiot Survivor off of Sha’s hand.
“WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING. YOU. COMPLETE. MORON.” He hissed.
“Hey, watch it dude, chill!” sneered the stranger. “It was an accident. I didn’t see the skinny little wuss lying there. Little freak shouldn’t be lying there if he doesn’t want anyone to accidentally step on him. Pfft…little freak shouldn’t be out here at all, really. Why do you care, anyway?”
Juan bit back hard on the urge to point out that he hadn’t actually accused the idiot of stomping Sha on purpose (yet), as he fumbled with the zipper of his jacket. “Because I am the one who has to answer for him if he flips out and KILLS you, you COMPLETE asshole..!”
Sha was growling more than screaming now, his greenish eyes flashing yellow like a twin pair of caution lights. A relapse was imminent, but there was still time…Juan finally got the zipper undone and whipped his jacket off. “WELL? Why aren’t you RUNNING? Go now, before he actually DOES attack you!”
The idiot sneered. “Pffft…what can that little wimp do to anyone? He looks like a goddamned 12 year old GIRL….I’m not scared of some…” Juan never did find out what the idiot was going to say next. That was when Sha, much faster than he looked like he should be able to, sprang to his feet with a wild screech of rage.
Fortunately for everyone involved (maybe) Juan managed to throw his jacket over Sha’s head and pin his skinny arms to his side in that split second before the mage actually moved to tear the jerk’s throat out. The skinny little guy lunged so hard, that he almost managed to do it anyway, but Juan was prepared for that. He went boneless, quite deliberately allowing himself to be pulled over, landing right on top of his growling charge. Juan then pinned the snarling relapsed witch to the ground, arms still wrapped tightly around his skinny form.
Juan looked up from the now thrashing mage he had pinned underneath him and gaped. “What the BLEEDING HELL ARE YOU DOING?” he hissed. “I said RUN.”
The rest of the remaining crowd had taken cover, but the idiot was still just STANDING there, mouth hanging open…eyes big and distinctly glassy looking…starting to shiver and the ground next to his feet to steam gently and oh Hell oh HELL. Sha was now honed in on the guy and was going to keep trying to attack him until he was dead or just down, and the idiot had frozen up in terror.
Juan glared in sheer irritation, absentmindedly making little shooshing noises to the snarling, screeching creature in his arms. (He would liked to have petted his back or something as well, but there’s only so much he could do right then…short of finding a way to grow a second pair of arms.) God, it must have been the witch screech…that sound was enough to make anyone have paralyzing flashbacks, but honestly why did it take that much to make the guy register that there was REAL DANGER here? “Hey? Hey? FOCUS! Don’t just stand there, I can’t hold him forever and he WILL chase you. COME BACK TO THE PRESENT, ACTUAL DEADLY DANGER IN FRONT OF YOU RIGHT NOW.”
The idiot whimpered in response and didn’t move.
“ARRGGH YOU WASTE OF…FRIG FRIG FRIG” Juan hiss-yelled as Sha tensed up and made a fresh attempt at lunging free, nearly dislodging him in the process. “Shh shh shh shh…calm down, Mage-y, if you can hear me at all, please please don’t fight me on this…” He murmered this kind of soothing nonsense without really listening to his own words as he frantically tried to work out a solution. The guy wasn’t going anywhere now, he’d gone full on deer-in-headlights. Not that it would do any good at this point…if Sha got loose, he would instinctively track his target down until something forced him into retreat mode. The only thing that would do that would be if said target was dead or at least down…oh wait, duh.
“YOU! IDIOT! DO EXACTLY WHAT I SAY AND THIS WILL ALL END.”
The idiot whimpered again, dark stains appearing on his pant legs. Well, that was probably as much of an acknowledgement as Juan was going to get…
“GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW AND LIE PERFECTLY STILL.”
“…hu…huh?”
“I MEAN IT! ON THE GROUND! YOU NEED TO PLAY DEAD. “
“bu…but…how…”
“JUST FUCKIN WELL DO IT, OR I SWEAR I WILL LET HIM GO AND CALL YOUR RESULTING DEATH A RANDOM ACT OF GOD.”
Finally, something Juan said actually sunk into the idiot's addled brain, and he flopped to the ground in a remarkably good imitation of a dead fish. (Well…either that or he fainted. Same end result, really.)
There was a tense moment in which Juan wondered if his plan had really worked. Would it make a difference if the mage couldn't SEE his target go down? Then Sha abruptly stopped struggling, and the howling growls ceased, and he KNEW it had worked. He sighed and allowed himself to relax a little…
Seconds later, the stars had faded from his vision, and he found himself staring up in the now rather ashen face of Gloria. “What…?” He mumbled, and winced. His lower jaw was throbbing with pain.
“Umm…near as I can tell, that little witch of yours kind of…bucked, I guess? While you were still holding him, and he kind of head-butted you in the mouth. And then he ran off sobbing. Are you…?”
“Wha...no one stopped him?!”
"Stop a freaking...relapsed witch from running off? Hell NO. NO. God, not…not everyone is as crazy as you.” Snapped Gloria. “Will you please forget the stupid witch for two seconds and just…”
“Nope. Can’t.” Juan sat up. “Got to track him down now, s’my job.”
“Nobody was hurt by your little pet while you were down, thanks for asking.” Snapped Gloria. “And you have a fat lip. That’s what that THING you like so much did to you.”
“That’s nice. Which way did HE go?”
“Why don’t you take a look and work it out on your own? IT left a trail, after all.”
“What…?” Juan looked blankly in the direction she was pointing. And then swore loudly and pushed himself to his feet. Yep…there was a trail alright, and a disturbingly clear one at that.
“Shiiiiiiiitt…shit shit shit that is a LOT of blood how did I not notice that…Oh god, his stitches probably all split FUCK...sorry, I REALLY gotta go after him…”
“Seriously?” She grabbed his arm. “Are you seriously out of your god damned MIND? Look I know you have some kind of weird savior streak or something, and it really IS very noble of you to try and help that THING but..."
Juan rounded on the girl. “Gloria. “ He all but snarled at her.
She blinked, and stammered. “y…yeah?”
“Let.” He said, tensing his bicep, forcing her to loosen her grip. “Go.” He said, leaning in close enough to touch noses with the wide eyed girl. “Of my Fucking ARM, you pretentious little HACK.”
Gloria pulled away from him like she’d been scalded. “Wh…” she stammered, “What did you just…”
“You heard me. And for the record…that ‘THING’ has a GODDAMNED NAME. HIS name is Sha.” Juan turned and stomped off, radiating self righteous fury. Behind him, he heard Gloria, hesitatingly at first, and then more and more loudly and surely, tell him PRECISELY what he could go off and do with himself. He ignored it and kept walking.
..........
End of Chapter notes/thoughts: I cannot believe how long I've been pecking away at this. I also can't believe I ever thought this was going to be a short one-shot.
I don't know if this was at all obvious, but Sha is...extremely insecure about his own appearance. (the fact that he still looks like a zombie, somewhat, is covered in scars, and has mutilated hands doesn't help much.) So, while I didn't directly come out and say, in the text, that part of Sha's issues with Gloria had to do with the fact that she made him feel like he wasn't pretty enough...she was totally making him feel like he wasn't pretty enough. :B
Gloria is not meant to be a bad person, by any stretch of the imagination. I also felt like her reactions, under the circumstances, were pretty understandable. (She is a survivor, so she's probably encountered more than one fully infected witch. Seeing Sha like that had to have brought up some bad things for her, and everyone else who was unfortunate enough to witness it.) I feel a little guilty for not fleshing her out a bit more, tbh, even though he entire purpose for being there was so Juan could have a concrete reason for dragging Sha out of the house. I may have to do more with her in a later fic.
The nameless jerk who stomped on Sha, however...unless someone else wants to take on the task of fleshing him out a LOT more, I have no intention of bringing back. Because he's a jerk.