Frostbite

Rachel/Ray Gardner and Isaac/Zack Foster (c) Hoshikuzu KRNKRN (Makoto Sanada)

Story (c) Me (Imaginativegoody2shoes)

Her fingers stung with an icy stab. The tips were a bright red glowing the same shade of hue that appeared on her swollen cheeks and nose. Rachel sniffled loudly through the harsh breeze that whizzed by them fluttering the couple's scarfs that were wrapped tightly around their faces. She noticed Zack grimacing from the chill but he said nothing more other than a barking grunt as tears burned the corner of his eyes. Rachel considered him somewhat lucky due to the fact that under his large black-fur hooded coat and jeans was his wrappings and his famous brown jacket. They were enough to keep his temperature from lowering. Rachel only wore two sleeved covered shirts under her white coat and leggings with her black shorts and even then it wasn't enough to keep in the warmth her body so desperately wished for. She regretted not using some of his wrappings when he had caught her trying to put them on herself earlier that day. Even though she tried to reason him with "it's cold outside" he still scolded her for it while snatching the fresh bandages from her hands.

She swore next time she wasn't going to listen to him.

Rachel reached into her shoulder bag pulling out a pair of brown-colored gloves before slipping them onto her frozen hands. They had been a Christmas gift last year from yours truly Isaac Foster. Although she knew they had been ripped off of a dead body he had managed to kill and rifle through their belongings, she still did appreciate the gesture none the less. After all, she still remembered the proud child-like grin he had when he handed her the horribly wrapped gift that was made out of newspaper and rubber bands. He looked like a child on Christmas morning. It was his little gesture of showing Rachel he cared rather than having to say it. He was never good with his words, so he always chose to show the woman through his actions rather than verbally.

She flexed her fingers, finding that her joints were stiff and she was forced to curl them back into their withering position and stuffed them beneath her armpits. No matter what, the deluded warmth of her small body did nothing to ease the frostbite in her hands. She shivered violently against the man. She knew he felt her when his hand snaked around her shoulders and pulled her closer into his larger coat, but even she could feel that he was trembling from the cold.

Rachel parted her chapped lips and when she did, a puff of warm smoke escaped her mouth and faded into the air along with the wind. She exhaled a sad sigh watching what could have been their small heater dissipate before her eyes. It could have been their salvation for the night. "I didn't expect this kind of weather tonight," Rachel murmured tiredly. She could feel the cracking of the skin on her lips but tasted no blood thankfully. Zack scoffed angrily. "No shit," he retorted. His hand squeezed her shoulder. "Didn't the news say it was going to be clear?"

Rachel stole a momentary glance towards the clear sky. The florescent moon reflected off her glassy sapphire irises that winced every time the wind blew into them. Stars twinkled brightly above the horizon, but the light of the moon blocked out many of the stars' luminance. "Yes, but the news isn't always right," she responded after the slight pause and lowered her chin back. Zack had grunted which sounded more of a disapproved jeer from an agitated bull. Rachel internally chuckled at the comparison. "That's why I never trust the fucking news," Zack murmured, "not with those fuckers sitting there with their big grins. They look like some kind of cult." For some reason, Rachel smiled at his words though it was more of a purse of her lips.

Over the course of seven years that the two companions had been together, Rachel had still yet to improve on her smile. It had prone to be a rather difficult exercise consisting of the blonde sitting in front of the mirror for hours on end of seedy motels and abandoned homes practicing on different grins. From flashing teeth to coy beams to even what Zack called "puppy-dog-eyes", none of them were a fit for her. About a year ago, Zack had declared, whilst laughing his ass off when he spotted the woman smiling awkwardly at her own reflection, "man, you still fucking suck at it!"

Rachel brushed away his words. She didn't really bother with improving. Minus the fact that Zack wasn't a comedian to begin with (and yes, she has told Zack he was nowhere near funny and he still felt the sting of her words to this very day), she also had a feeling that their promise will possibly take years to even fulfill. In fact, it may never even happen. Not as far as Rachel figured, but she was content even if she someday prayed he would kill her. She did feel her happiest with Zack abliet her vacant profile refused to show it. Which was another reason why, after those years, she had ceased asking Zack to kill her but that was an entire story in itself. For now, she only wanted to work on being useful to the man and also prove there was more to his life than he thought ever existed. The feeling was also mutual with Zack.

Silence brewed between them for the rest of the walk.

The town they now resided in was rather small. Perhaps a bit too small as the welcoming sign they passed by that morning read "population:103" not including Rachel and Zack. They were both rather relieved seeing the fewer count of citizens. At least, their cover couldn't be blown and, not to mention, hiding from the cops would be a lot easier compared to the last town they were in. They could practically feel the cops breathing down their necks.

Unfortunately, however, as the winter season had fast approached and it was days before New Years Eve, the one motel that had been available was practically booked. Zack was about ready to rip out his disguised scythe Rachel had made for him and start tearing the place apart. If it hadn't been for Rachel who was able to calm him down, the entire one-story building would have been demolished. Along with all the poor, innocent pedestrians. Not that he gave a shit really, anyway. The couple was forced to move on after incessant apologies from the woman who owned the motel and an offer to sleep in the manager's room which Rachel politely declined. They maundered the heads of the street ducking every time the wind began to whisper.

She wasn't sure where the two would go to sleep that night and she dreaded having to camp out in the alleys for the third time that same week. She knew Zack felt the same besides being accustomed to the odious weather more than Rachel ever was. Even when he tried to hide it, his eyes would say it all. She had learned to read him like an open book just as he had learned to read her. Though, she wouldn't call herself an actress. She knew she had always been a bit of a horrible liar. "I guess we're sleeping in the alley again, huh?" Rachel confirmed her suspicions. When the breeze whizzed through her hair once again, the blonde stuffed her face against the crook of his black coat. It felt as if the cold was laughing at Rachel's disappointment from the lack of a warm bed and comforting food.

That was another thing, Rachel thought, they were starting to run out of money...

Zack groaned jarring Rachel away from her thoughts. "Yeah, I guess so...Unless you have a better idea." He strangely sounded hopeful. Rachel shook her head. "No," she answered. Zack could only click his tongue.

"I'm sorry," Rachel had said. Zack interrupted her. "It's not like it's your fault! Why the hell are you apologizing for?"

"I wish I could find something better than sleeping out in the cold...Unless a dumpster sounds pleasant to you?"

"And smelling like a dead animal by morning? Fuck no! I'd rather freeze my ass off!" Rachel laughed and laid her head on his shoulder. "I know Zack," she responded patting his forearm. Zack only growled deeply in his throat. "The only thing I'm worried about is your weak ass getting sick on me again like the last time," he said, but there was an uncharacteristic softness in his tone that Rachel recognized immediately. The woman gnawed at her bottom lip.

She remembered that day rather perfectly. It was around the time Zack had first rescued Rachel from the institution when she was thirteen. It had taken almost a full-on year before they were far enough away from their old town. Day in and days out of non-stop traveling, being on the run, and pickpocketing and, having Zack kill a drunken victim and take their money and other belongings they may have possessed. The weather had been just as freezing as this night possibly even in the negatives. At the time, Rachel had not been used to being out in the cold air. She was more used to being at her warm, hellhole home either locked in her room reading while her parents were in their usual quarrel or under the wrath of her father's alcoholic breaths that berated her and shoved against walls and slapped. So, being out in the snow in the hardly fresh polluted air was enough to knock her immune system. She laid in bed for days at a motel Zack was able to pay for thanks to their killing spree and teamwork. Whatever cold she had gotten was possibly the worse. She was sure she was going to die as high as her fever was and she remembered how distraught Zack was regardless of his facade that appeared cool-headed and calm. He refused to sleep until Rachel was better and then it was her turn to take care of him. He wasn't sick, but his lack of slumber was enough to make him become extra weight. Since then, both Rachel and Zack made sure to find warm places to rest for the night never wanting that nightmare to ever occur again, but tonight's luck was just not in their favor.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said and Zack sighed heavily. That was a major habit she had trouble breaking. Apologizing for every goddamn thing there was even when she didn't do anything that was deemed immoral or wrong in the least. "But I know I will be okay. I am used to being outside now."

Zack tensed. Alright. Wrong choice of words.

"Trust me, Zack," Rachel amended, "I'll be alright. And I promise I will tell you when I'm not feeling well. Right now though, I am feeling pretty okay. We also have extra blankets in our pack"-she patted the backpack Zack carried in demonstration-"so we should be alright." Zack drew out a heavy breath. "You better seriously tell me," he grumbled and his hand slid down to her waist. Rachel nodded, the gesture bringing out a tiny smile on her face. "I promise, Zack," she said.

Within minutes, the two reluctantly rounded a corner once their legs grew weary of the walking and into an alley. The small space of bricks was slightly dimmed with an image of mellow orange light. Rachel hung onto Zack while they cautiously stepped further careful steps quiet and slow into the closed area and stopped just meters from the dead end.

A large red, white and blue barrel stood in the middle of the area lit up with licking flames of yellow and orange. Crackling was heard from the burning ashes that were in the tin. The smell of trash and paper filled their nostrils in a mix with the fresh wind and cold burning the inside of their nose. Around the barrel stood two old men huddling close to the fire. The oldest man that stood to the left of the barrel seemed much older. He wore a large torn brown trench coat and a black hoodie while the other wore a light sweater. The old man also wore a black cap little wisps of white thin hair peeking out the sides of his large ears. The other man next to him, that stood behind the barrel instead, seemed younger-possibly in his early thirties-and wore no hat over his bald head and the light of the flame reflected off his scalp. Wrinkles adorned their faces with patches of dirt and grim.

Rachel and Zack were silent for what felt like hours before one of the men turned towards them. He smiled brightly at them which Rachel felt Zack blanch. A few teeth were missing, gaping holes in the top front teeth and the bottom. The younger man took a sharp glance at them, the fire seeming to hug at his long face. "Do you two need to use this barrel?" The man with the cap asked first. The other had lowered his gaze now seeming transfixed in the dancing flames.

Rachel nodded swallowing. "Yes," she answered calmly.

The older man chuckled lightly before coughing loudly and took a step back closer to his friend. "Then come over here. We don't mind if you do," he offered a gloved hand with one missing finger gesturing to the fire. Rachel glanced at Zack who only shrugged. He didn't seem to sense any danger as he released Rachel and nudged her lightly towards the tin. Rachel stepped up further. She pressed her gloved palms outwards towards the fire. She sighed deeply in her chest feeling the flame's warmth enveloping her frozen fingers. She looked over her shoulder to see Zack leaning against the wall arms crossed. He kept his distance but was close enough to the fire. She could tell he was still wary around anything that had involved flames, but he was slowly growing accustomed to it thanks to her.

"What brings you two youngins out 'ere?" The older man asked. Rachel turned her attention onto the man away from Zack. He had a thick new york accent she noted. "The cold," she answered nonchalantly as ever. Even Zack choked in the background. The man chortled. "You're quite young," he observed. Rachel blinked. "I'm in my twenties," she replied and the man seemed somewhat startled. "Really?" He asked surprised. "I figured you would have been thirteen," he added. Rachel puffed out her cheeks to what was supposed to be a pout. Yes. She got that a lot. Especially after she decided to cut her hair and dye it pink to derail the cops and anyone else from recognizing her. A subtle hand rose up to grasp at her hair feeling the jagged ends. Rachel felt herself grow sad. She really missed her long hair. "Is that your older brother?" The younger man questioned. His voice was lowered enough so only Rachel and the other man could hear. He inclined his chin towards Zack. Rachel glanced over at the man who was watching the three intently. "No," she answered honestly, "that's my..." She paused trying to find the correct term.

Zack was never the cloying type. He abhorred all of the corny love shit he had seen on TV and in real life as a child. Although, he never had issues with announcing Rachel being his girl or sneaking up behind her for surprise hugs-she found out throughout the years he was very much a cuddler. He would always hotly deny it whenever she teased him about it-he never could really say the words "I love you" or call her his "girlfriend". Only once did he ever mumble the three words, but that was around when Rachel found some leftover whiskey in a fridge of a hotel room and the man grew curious of the taste.

And that was merely a year ago when the two finally confessed their true feelings.

"Husband," Rachel finally answered. She saw Zack wasn't too affected by the answer which relieved her. The younger man nodded and his hard expression softened somewhat. "Names?" He then inquired. Rachel thought. "Emma. His is Nick or Nicholas. He doesn't care what you call him," she said. Once again the younger man nodded and sprouted a crooked grin on his cracked lips.

Their conversation continued on. It was mostly the two old men chatting sharing their own stories. Any questions they asked Rachel, the woman made sure her responses were simple and short and caused no arousal to their suspicions. They seemed rather nice and Rachel felt comfortable around them. Zack, however, grew rather bored and restless. Noticing this, Rachel finally made her leave. She felt rested and warm enough to exit the lamentable sanctuary and she knew she and Zack would need to find another alley to sleep in as this one was occupied and she also didn't want to stay there any longer. Sure, they were friendly, but Rachel also still preferred her quiet moments with Zack alone. Plus, the older man talked way too much.

After a short farewell, Rachel pulled Zack along with her. They walked once more for a bit before they finally managed to scout out an empty alley and entered. There was a large green dumpster against the wall of some diner on the left side. This proved sufficient as they could grab a quick breakfast along the way despite their lack of profit at the moment and also sleeping behind the dumpster would at least stop the wind from freezing them over the night. They made their bedding behind the dumpster. After the two settled onto the wet cemented floor, Rachel crawled up onto the man's lap wrapping their bodies with the green blanket she pulled out from their pack and laid the bag by their side. She felt his hands enclosed around her from behind and he pressed his face into her shoulder. Rachel shivered slightly when his black locks brushed over the crook of her neck. His hair had grown quite long. She couldn't help but wonder if he would ever allow her to cut it someday.

Or at least brush through it. She really loved how soft his hair was whenever she would run her fingers through them.

She felt Zack's chest vibrate on her back when he spoke, "what? Are you still cold?"

Rachel shook her head. "Your hair just tickled me," she said. Zack snorted. "Oh yeah, I forgot," he snickered, "you're ticklish." He lightly squeezed at her side. Rachel squirmed and grinned softly swallowing back the laughter that threatened to rip past her lips. There was silence for a moment. "They were nice," Rachel's voice tore through the tranquility. Zack hummed. "I guess," his voice muffled against her neck. She felt him lightly press his lips against her. Rachel blinked. "I'm surprised you didn't kill them," she commented. Zack shrugged. "Eh, they were old. They might just die tomorrow anyway. Also, they reminded me of the old man." Rachel nodded. She remembered that story all too well.

They were quiet once more.

"...Husband, huh?" Zack commented. Rachel turned to him forcing Zack to lift up his head to look at her. "Did you not like it?" she questioned feigning meek. Zack rose an eyebrow. "I guess I don't really care," he answered. "Better than calling me boyfriend or anything gross like that." Rachel laughed. "It's almost the same thing," she said.

"It just sounds better."

Rachel's smile grew. He was right. She also liked the sound of it too.

"By the way," she continued, "are you warm enough? I know you still don't like fire, but I was worried you were cold."

"The hell? Why are you always worried? I'm fine, Ray," the raven-haired man protested pouting.

"You were shivering."

"And? I dealt with worse before. Worry about yourself. You're the one with the weak immune system."

Rachel frowned softly her brows knitting together into restrained scorn. She didn't respond to the man's words and Zack had almost thought he was off the hook as he closed his eyes and tried to pull the woman back.

Until he felt two warm palms cup his cheeks. His heterochromia eyes opened and he stared stupidly at the woman. He saw that Rachel had removed her gloves from her hands and pressed them over him her thumbs brushing against his bandaged face. The view of the moonlight bounced off his golden eye. He recoiled slightly when she pressed her forehead against his and this time ghosted her thumb across his bottom lip. It wasn't until that moment that he realized he was slightly colder than Rachel. Shivers ran down his spine and a strange itch entered his twisting stomach. "What are you doing?" he demanded harshly but kept his voice low. His eyes had darkened into a predatory gleam. Rachel closed her own eyes. "Warming you up," she said. Zack only sighed in exasperation. "You're such a nagger," he groaned and Rachel only giggled.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"...I'm not."

Zack only smirked. "You brat," he joked and rose a hand to ruffle her hair before running his hands through her dyed locks. He rose his other to grab her chin and carefully lifted her face to his. Rachel only had a split second to glance at his mirth before he leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her. Despite being the infamous serial killer that he was, most would have been shocked by how soft he could be. But never Rachel. She trusted him with her life. She knew he never would hurt her no matter what even with his lust for bloodshed. The young woman tilted her head to grab a better angle of his mouth and leaned in to deepen the kiss.

"Mmph!"

Rachel was suddenly shoved by his hand. She fell backwards in shock and looked up at Zack who held a hand tightly to his mouth. "Jesus fucking christ, your lips are fucking cold!" He bellowed. It took Rachel a moment to process what happened before she giggled. Her giggles were silent and only her shoulders shook. "I'm sorry," she said sitting herself up and back onto his lap. Zack clicked his tongue angrily pulling her back closer to him. His arms once again placed themselves around her waist. "It's fine," he sighed tiredly. He paused and then smiled evilly. "I'll warm them up quickly."

He cackled when this brought a bright blush to Rachel's frozen cheeks.

A/N: Continues to suffer from life long writer's block and thus writing out this small piece. It doesn't have much significance other than I needed some fluff lol. Zack is a good boi after all and Rachel is...sad/edgy gurl XDDD Lol jk, she is pure too...kind of. In a twisted sense. I am kind of scared to post this...I honestly hated it, BUT I told myself it doesn't matter. After all, writing is writing no matter how shitty it may come out or sound. So, here is a little something for a fandom I am now obsessed with which is now: Angels of Death, or Satsuriku no Tenshi (Angels of Slaughter) XP This is my first time writing for these two and I have a couple of more fluffy one-shots that will come in...maybe a major story too if I feel up to it. Welp! I hope you guys enjoy anyway! :D Thanks for taking the time to read! ^^ I apologize for the ending if it sounds rushed. Also, I hope I have these two are in character or sound like it at least...Never really wrote for psychotic characters before lol. Also-Also :D Rachel is in her twenties here. So if you don't enjoy RayZack...Then read at your own discretion.