Chapter Text
Coach:
He stared, feeling lifeless. He never felt such emptiness. It happened... He should have prevented it. He didn't dare approach for a while, having so much difficulty wrapping his head around it. It just made no sense. You looked okay an hour ago, and now you laid here, motionless. The betrayal, the sadness, the anger. All of it.
After a while he kneeled down, gave your knuckles a trembling kiss, then scooped you up and walked away. He buried you then sat there in silence for what must have been eternity. Was it all even worth it anymore?
Rochelle:
"No, no, no," she whispered, clutching your body, pressing onto the wounds, "You can't do this to me. Not now. Not ever. Please. Wake up. Wake up!"
You did not wake up.
She cried for hours with her forehead on your lifeless body. She could not leave you behind. But she can't drag you around either. It was the most sickening feeling to dig a hole where any zombie could reach you.
As she dug she kept muttering things to you, "Why? How could I have helped? You should have told me! Or I should have listened better..." such things until she put the dirt over you.
Ellis:
"Fuck! Hey, it'll be okay, it's fine, it's- Oh god so much blood. Hey, hey, come to me!" He kept slapping your cheek as if it would magically bring you back. He told himself you are just sleeping, pulling a prank. It's a dumb prank.
He was sure it wasn't a prank anymore when he had to dig dirt out and put your body in instead. He sat there, head in hands, crying as he stared at your body. "Please," he whispered, a last plead that this isn't reality. "We were supposed to do this together. I can't do this alone. Please."
His pleads were not answered. You did not move or even twitch. He would have not had the heart to put the dirt back over you in any other situation, but the thought some zombie could find you made him put the dirt over you.
Nick:
"Oh fuck, noo, no," he turned away, walked few steps away, his head shaking so many times. "No." It was the only word he seemed to be able to say. The tears welled up before he even realized you did this to yourself. He thought it was a zombie but then he saw how you did it and it became even more sickening. He felt like puking. It's as if someone poured a bucket of ice over him.
He did puke. Each time he looked it came up. The sounds he made were sounds he never made before or even heard before. It was the most raw sound of grief anyone would have ever heard.
He dug a hole, which took ages as he felt so weak, he could barely lift the shovel. Having to drag your body was the cruelest thing he ever did. It made him stop to drop his forehead to your shoulder and cry "sorry" many times. He regretted everything he ever did to you: how he behaved, the comments he would make, being so defensive, trying to act cool and held back instead of just fully give in and expressing to how much he loves you.