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in which he finds himself cornered and helpless and wishing that things could've gone a little differently.

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At the first signs of trouble, run.

That's what he always told him, before they embarked on every — self-imposed but absolutely necessary — mission to scrounge for sustenance.

I don't have time for your dumb antics and I'm not going to put my ass on the line to save yours.

A wry smirk tugs at his cracked lips, revealing a silver of sharp canines. He'd lost count of the number of times that bastard had done the exact opposite.

'Fuck you, teme,' he thinks, though there is no malice behind his words. An image of a painfully familiar smirk gracing pale features framed by dark tresses flashes across his cluttered mind, and Naruto feels something in his chest constrict.

Is it him or is it suddenly a little harder to breathe?

A few feet from him, the weak wooden door rattles violently in its frame. An unpleasant chorus of groans slips past the thin door, seeming to reach a crescendo as more of those grotesque things start to gather outside the room that housed their next meal.

Crippling panic strikes his gut. He suspects that the flimsy wood isn't going to hold out for much longer.

Faded cerulean oculars scan his surroundings; this place was going to be his tomb.

Never has he ever allowed himself to be driven into a corner. Or maybe he had already wedged himself into a corner long before he even stepped into this stupid supply closet. Perhaps this is what giving up feels like.

So drop everything and get the fuck out of there or I'll leave you behind, got it?

Maybe if stupid Sasuke had kept his word and really left him behind when he fucked up all those days ago, he wouldn't be alone right now, hunkered in the corner of a barren supply closet with no way of escape.

They'd always fought valiantly together, guarding each other's backs despite their constant banter and disagreements, never backing down in the face of death even when it seemed like the odds were against them. He supposed that it was one of the only things they had in common

He doesn't realise that he is crying until he blinks and tears are suddenly burning the open scratches that mar his cheeks. Naruto curls into himself, shoulders quaking as he sinks lower on his knees — this must be what resignation feels like, he thinks.

Naruto is far from religious — especially not since this whole shit storm with the dead roaming the earth and not quite as dead as they should be — but he finds himself clasping his trembling hands together in silent prayer dredged from the last bits of hope in his being.

He's not quite sure what he's praying for — the familiar sound of heavy boots on concrete, a glimpse of grimy dark jeans with a gun tucked into the back of the waistband, a calm and steady baritone to break through the messy droning of the undead — but he's certain that it's probably out of spite that none of his prayers are answered.

Naruto prefers to think that it's better this way.

With things the way they are now, he'd rather Sasuke remain out of his sight.

Because seeing him now would mean that his alabaster skin would have turned ash gray, bits and pieces of flesh rotting from where toxic teeth had torn through, and there wouldn't be any sort of recognition in his clouded obsidian depths before he sinks his own teeth into his friend's skin.

Naruto doesn't want to see the regal and aloof Uchiha brought down to their level. Even in their grim world, Sasuke was always dignified, always had a strong sense of purpose without losing his grasp on his morals.

Shoot me down if I'm ever on the verge of turning. I'd rather blow my brains out than turn into one of those things.

It had been hard to deal that last blow; it had been clear to the both of them that Naruto was unwilling to do it, what with the tears blurring his vision until he could almost pretend that Sasuke's legs were still intact even as the blood, his blood, coated his hands and painted the ground beneath them a murky crimson.

He still remembers how Sasuke had told him to stop, and Naruto had told him to shut the fuck up because there was no way in hell he'd leave him behind and Sasuke had smirked and handed him his gun and Naruto had been downright terrified.

He had been so scared because Sasuke wasn't breathing right and his pale skin had taken on an unhealthy pallor but the boy lying in a pool of his own blood before him was still exactly like the strong and composed Uchiha he'd befriended at the start of the disaster months ago — and it was this same boy that had silently requested to be spared from an undignified end in the form of a shot to the head.

"I don't want to wake up, dobe," he said, voice smooth but undoubtedly weak and fading. "You know I don't want to wake up after this."

He'd looked so serene then, as though he had accepted his fate so easily, so quickly.

"Sorry." It was at this point that Naruto had completely given up on his tough front and clutched onto his best friend's body as he weeped into his chest. It was despair at its worse, and Naruto thought that he might be breaking under its crushing pressure. "I can't save your ass anymore so… try not to do anything stupid."

Long fingers covered his, urging the gun in his trembling grasp to rest against his temple.

"See ya." Sasuke's finger slides above his over the trigger and it happened so fast that Naruto barely saw the genuine smile gracing his exhausted countenance before one of them pulled the trigger and Sasuke's blood was splattered across his face and Naruto was screaming and screaming and how was he supposed to deal with losing his last link to humanity?

You're an idiot, but I suppose an idiot's better than any of those things out there.

The door is starting to splinter and break under the contant pressure of persistent beings — all hungry for his flesh.

His mind is clear now; Naruto knows what he has to do.

He checks his gun — two bullets left — and releases the safety. Settling himself properly on the ground with his back propped up against the wall, he waits until the first living corpse forces itself past the broken wood before shooting it down with one well-aimed shot.

Then, as the rest swarms in, he grits his teeth and brings the gun to his head.

I'll see you soon, teme.

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author's note: writting this made me sad haha. i hope you liked it! thanks for reading! reviews and constructive criticism welcomed ~