"Of course," Leo replied, not questioning it as he shrugged off his own jacket. He tossed it onto his footlocker and unzipped his pants. "You can keep your clothes on." He kicked off his shoes. "I promise to behave myself. I don't have much of an attention span when I'm tired anyway. Or do you not believe me?" He pushed his pants down to his ankles and stepped out of them, revealing black boxers. Then he tugged his shirt off over his head and added it to his jacket pile, standing there in only his underwear, before he kicked those off.

He then slipped into bed and curled up against one of his pillows, facing away from Vince and toward one of his many stacks of books. His cot was bigger than the standard-issue one, making it easy for both of them to fit, even if they had to be pretty close.

Leo tucked his arms in close to his chest, feeling strangely vulnerable. Being naked was no big deal for him, but being this exposed... he was not used to this feeling of being unguarded. But he liked it. So he closed his eyes and waited for Vince to get in next to him.

"Okay," he mumbled, already feeling himself start to relax. He could almost hear Vince getting into bed behind him, but could not really open his eyes. "You don't have to stay. I mean, you can stay as long as you want, obviously, but thank you, Vince." He wouldn't exactly complain if the spooning turned into forking, but he knew better than to try to change Vince's mind.

That man was one of the most stubborn people he knew. If Vince said no, then it was a no; only on the rarest of occasions was Vince convinced to do otherwise. And right now, he was far too tired to even bother trying to talk him into anything. Although he probably could find the energy and would just crash out for half the day tomorrow.

"You—" Jun's face went hot so fast his eyes watered. "You can't say things like that! Oh my god!" He covered his face, turning away as his ears burned like they were on fire.

In the army, if a sunbae said something out of line, you buried it. You kept your face straight. You did not stand there turning the color of raw meat while they watched. Were all Americans this... forward? The soldier couldn't look at Vince right then; his heart was hammering hard in his chest. "That is not—I didn't mean—!"

Jun cleared his throat, ducking his head as his ears burned. His hands fumbled with the zipper of his backpack, the metal teeth suddenly refusing to cooperate. He dared to look up for just a second—just to see if Vince was still grinning—then snapped his attention back to the floorboards.

"That's... I mean, thank you? Let's just... I'm going to... we should go." He couldn't finish a single sentence. His entire face still felt hot. He shoved his water bottle back into his bag, rearranging the medical kit, the spare ammunition, anything that would give his hands something to do. Focus.

He'd kept his head in worse situations than this. He'd held formation while infected poured through the east gate on that first day. He could handle one man with a big mouth.

Straightening up, he tried to act as if nothing had happened. Like his face wasn't still flushed, or he couldn't still hear his heart in his throat.

"Thanks for wanting to protect me. That's... I appreciate that," he said, still refusing to look at Vince directly. "But if you want to check out my—whatever—do it while we walk. Let's move." His hands hung awkwardly at his sides before he took three steps, paused, and swung around so his back was no longer turned to Vince. "You walk ahead." He motioned vaguely in front of him, pretending it was about tactics, not his ridiculous blush.

At least Vince wouldn't see his face from back there.

mal's lips curved up in the corner as he saw how flustered the other man seemed to get. and he let out a chuckle as the other claimed to not be cute, but it slowly died out. “oh, you were serious?” he asked with a mock-shocked look on his face. his eyes being left wide and as ‘innocent’ as possible. “your cute. and that's the end of that.” mal says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. which, to him, it obviously was. “it's a scientific fact, so you can't go against it darling.” mal says with a wink at the other man and a smile on his lips. 

“i don't think safe is a word that describes anything anymore,” mal admits with a chuckle. still, he supposed the other was right. heading out at night might give him better coverage, but it'll also give them some better coverage as well. and the last thing he needed was to stumble right into the arms of one of them and their jaw. “but maybe you're right. doing it as the sun is going down might not be the best idea.”

Mal wasn't helping with all those compliments. He pressed his lips into a tight line, determined to ignore them. "I care about everybody. I don't want anyone hurt," he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could, even though his heart kept speeding up with every word out of Mal's mouth. Jun shifted his weight from one foot to the other, adjusting the bags in his hands. The handles dug into his palms, but he barely noticed. All he could think about was the way Mal had looked at him.

"We all have to care about each other to get through this." That sounded like something he should say, that made sense. Something that wasn't about how flustered he felt. "So... yeah. Rest is good. Tomorrow, then." He forced himself to glance at Mal, but just for half a second before looking away again.

If Mal wanted to come back, it was fine with him. He didn't mind spending more time with him—defending him, standing close, listening to him talk. The more time they spent together, though, the worse things got. Thoughts like 'handsome' and that wink—it was messing with Jun's head. He wasn't used to this, but he couldn't say he didn't like it. That was even more confusing. "Tomorrow... okay." Jun swallowed hard, then cleared his throat. "If you need anything, just find me." It was easier when he could tell himself it was for work, for protecting him.

But now? He had to admit, at least to himself, that he was looking forward to seeing him again.

"We're all just trying to survive." Same unit. Before all this, before Metro, before everything had folded in on itself. They'd crossed paths plenty back then. Mess hall. Formation. The occasional smoke break out behind the barracks where nobody wanted to be the one to say much of anything. But they'd never really talked. Rae had kept to himself mostly, back then and now. It was easier that way. Less to explain, less to lose, less for anyone to ask about later. "Yeah, I'm off. Got off not long ago," he said, answering Jun's question with a small shrug, like it didn't matter either way. "Probably won't sleep, though. Never really do. Not properly." He said it plainly, no complaint behind it, just a fact laid out flat, the way you'd mention the weather.

His eyes drifted over Jun without lingering too long on any one spot. The tightness still sitting in his shoulders. The faint shake that had been in his hand before he'd holstered the gun again. That hollowed out look that came after the adrenaline had nowhere left to go and just sort of sat there, simmering under the skin. Rae took all of it in quietly but didn't say anything. "I was actually headed out to check on the horse," he said instead, tipping his head toward the barriers at the far end of the corridor. His gaze followed the gesture, drifting past the checkpoint toward the dark, shuttered front of the old sushi place just beyond it. The mare was tucked back there for the night, out of sight from where they stood. She was probably fine. Usually was. Tougher than she looked.

Still, something nagged at the back of his skull. The kind of feeling he couldn't quite shake even when he told himself there was nothing to it. He didn't say that part out loud. He looked back to Jun, and for a moment he hesitated, working out how to say what came next without it landing wrong. He'd been trying, lately, to not come across so cold. So closed off. It didn't come naturally to him, never had, but he kept at it anyway.

"I can take care of myself. It's just..." He gestured around them. He didn't want to explain that he was shaken by something so small. Not something like being startled, at least. The fight before was nothing. They handled zombies every day. He wasn't scared of that. This feeling, he couldn't name it. It wasn't fear. Fear was at least something; this was almost numb. Like seeing someone whose face was half bone and half rotting, peeling flesh was just normal now.

When his eyes returned to Rae, he found his own hand rubbing at his forearm. There was an urge to ask him to stay, not to leave him alone out here in case something happened. He had been trained to function on his own. He could still manage on his own. He just... wanted to do it with someone. That had to be okay.

"Staying in tonight sounds nice," he said. And it would, wouldn't it? The bedrolls weren't as comfortable as actual beds. He should go back and sleep. At least try to rest. It would be good. He could sleep in one of those nice back offices. Away from everyone else.

"Do you..." Jun tilted his head, turning his eyes toward that direction. The horse, right. He hadn't seen that horse for himself yet, just heard stories from some others about it. It was so hard to imagine seeing something so alive in all of this. It seemed almost mythical.

"Can I see her? If it is okay."

He couldn't imagine the work someone had to put in to take care of something like that. Especially something so big. Did they let her wander around, or was there somewhere safe for her? What about feeding? How would she find enough? Was that why there was so much talk about leaving and searching for farms? Maybe they would have other horses, too.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead." He replies somberly. His wife wouldn't recover if he couldn't master death itself, and he couldn't do that while neglecting his research. Even now he could feel fatigue in his bones. It reverberated with every motion, forcing a dull ache in every one of his limbs. "And no. I'm just exhausted after looking at screens and papers all day. That's all." Vincent was closed off before the apocalypse, and his frantic research, and having to mind the entire mall had worsened this to a great degree. "Are these questions necessary?"

"Habits matter. A change in sleep or appetite, that's sometimes the first thing that tells me something's wrong. Or we can talk about the summer I lost my virginity to a guy who was way too old for me. Your pick." Leo pulled the stethoscope from his neck, breathing on the metal to make sure it wasn't too cold.

He kept the smile plastered on his face. Professional distance, that's what it was, mostly, as he leaned in, pressing the diaphragm against Vincent's chest. Leo's other hand pressed just below Vincent's ribs, his fingers spreading across the tightly corded muscles of the man's abdomen. To his credit, Vincent didn't seem to flinch or move at all. Leo let his palm linger, feeling the rise and fall of Vincent's breathing. "Now, breathe for me. In slow, hold it, out slow."

Leo had to position himself so he was partially squatting between Vincent's knees. He looked up at him, offering another smile as he shifted closer, pressing his fingertips into Vincent's belly as he guided him through breathing exercises.

"You need more sleep. If we had sleeping pills, I'd give you one. We don't, so you're left with the other option, find someone or something to wear you out. That part's on you."

"Just so long as you get more than two hours, and I'm not talking catnaps here," Leo muttered back. His hand patted Vince's side as they started marching down the dead escalator. The escalator climb was brief but felt longer in the dim, flickering light. As they stepped off, Leo turned left, guiding Vince down a corridor that ran behind what used to be the high-end electronics department. The air here was cooler, the mall's usual hum muffled to a distant vibration. They passed a few empty storefronts, their dark windows like vacant eyes, before reaching a narrow hallway lined with steel doors—the former shipping offices.

Leo stopped at the third door on the right, a metal slab with '3B' stenciled in faded black paint. He fumbled in his pocket for the key, his fingers brushing against the familiar metal ridges before pulling it out. The lock clicked open with a turn of his wrist, and Leo pushed the door inward.

"Home sweet closet," he murmured, stepping inside and gesturing for Vince to follow. The room was small, barely large enough for the cot pushed against one wall and the footlocker at its foot. A single battery-powered lantern cast a warm glow across the space, illuminating the neat pile of clothes on the folding chair and the worn blanket thrown haphazardly over the cot.

"I—" Leo started, then cut himself off. The words stuck somewhere in his throat. He swallowed, trying to force them down, but just bit his tongue instead. This was probably a stupid idea, asking Vince of all people. Vince, who barely shared anything about himself, who probably thought Leo talked too much already. But then again, who else was there? Leo needed someone, and somehow, despite everything, Vince was here. In his room.

"I have training," Jun said. He knew Vince probably thought he didn't. What good was army training out here? None of his unit's tactics or skills applied. They never trained him to survive in an abandoned office complex overrun by dead people. Most of his training had been about fighting against living enemies, not dealing with civilians or staying hidden in buildings for days on end. What was he doing here? "But I'm careful," he added quietly. He didn't like feeling useless in this new reality.

He straightened up from sorting through another box. This one had jackets. He found one that looked like it could fit Vince—a heavy denim one with some holes that he could sew closed. He tossed it over his shoulder to hand it to Vince. "I can take care of myself." He meant it as reassurance, not pride. His life was nothing to be proud of these days. Scavenging for scraps, hiding from dead people who didn't stop moving until you hacked or smashed enough of their pieces.

"But maybe I shouldn't work alone. It's getting harder out there." His voice trailed off. He wasn't used to admitting weakness, especially to people who'd known him only briefly. The first weeks had been so hard on everyone at Metrocenter. They were still rebuilding, trying to trust one another enough to survive another day. He didn't want Vince thinking he was soft or incapable. He was stronger than most realized; it was why he made it out here alone this long. But stronger didn't mean invincible. He swallowed hard. "If you think you can watch my back... I'd be okay with it." He almost whispered it, embarrassed.

Then he forced himself to meet Vince's eyes, determined to sound firmer. "Next time I go out. If I'm lucky and you're free. You and me." There, he said it. Not so bad. He quickly grabbed another shirt and added it to his pile to distract himself from how vulnerable he'd just made himself. Vince wasn't someone he needed to impress—he needed Vince's help, and that was all that mattered. Survival.

mal was surprised when the other man took one of the bags from him, before shooting him a smile. "wow, such a gentleman," he says with a chuckle. mal shook his head as he lets out a soft sigh. “the longer all of... this goes on? the fewer supplies there's going to be for us to find. my next shift, i'm going to try branching out a little further. hopefully find places that are more likely to have some goods.” mal says with a soft sigh as he runs a hand through his hair before equalizing the weight from holding the less amount of bags. 

“we'll make it work,” he agrees easily and smiles, “we'll just do what we do best until this. endure.” mal says with a shrug. and then an almost mischievous smile slips on his face. “you know, you look awfully cute when you're blushing.” he says with a grin. “granted, i suppose you always look cute. but it definitely enhances the cuteness level, darling.”  he says with a laugh.

Cute? No one had ever called him that. The heat in his face doubled, creeping to his ears and down his neck. He wanted to argue but had no idea what to say without sounding stupid. "Stop calling me that," he mumbled. "It's weird. I'm not—cute. I'm..." His voice trailed off. He was what? A soldier, he knew, but he hadn't been that for long, not out here.

He shifted his grip on one of Mal's bags, adjusting his hold, using it as an excuse to move, to look anywhere but at him. The teasing was something Jun wasn't used to. People in his squad back home were respectful, formal—compliments were rare. All he could think to do was to keep his head down, casting quick glances at Mal, but when he saw the other still staring at him, Jun would quickly look away. A hand gripped the handles of the bag he was already holding before he reached out and took another from Mal. He kept his expression blank, hoping Mal wouldn't notice how flustered he was.

"Is it safe to go out again?" he asked. He was still scanning their surroundings as they talked, and he didn't see anything close, but that doesn't mean it was safe. The mall had always been close to trouble, but that had gotten worse in recent months. If Mal wanted to head out into that mess, Jun wanted to be sure he understood what it meant.

☣︎ - Oh look, we've got a live one. Giovanni's back was turned from the commotion transpiring behind him. He took an exaggerate sip from the canteen, drinking the barely chilled water to quench whatever thirst that began to cling to the dryness of his throat. His eyes were trained on the wall, careful not to react too swiftly as he if composure was necessary to build a particular reputation with the survivors. That way they knew less and would make requests within the same threshold. He peeked over his shoulder, curious as to the direction of the conversation. A lover's quarrel? A careless exploit? Something intriguing was necessary for him to continue his wandering mind and listening ears.

"Missed you too, Gio. It's been really quiet around here. Eerily so. Almost like we didn't need your commentary at all." He paused as he looked around at all of his supplies, his smile going just slightly wry. "I wouldn't say this is quite at that point yet. Maybe next time? For now, this is more...you know...Band-Aid worthy."

Leo could hear it in Giovanni's voice, how pompous he always was, and if Leo wasn't currently taking care of another patient, he would've probably gone for one of his own jokes at Giovanni's expense. There was always fun to be had when he had someone to barb with. "You're all good here, Mr. Jones, just take it easy for the next day or two." He gestured toward Giovanni. "And ignore anything he has to say. He's still delirious from whatever he's caught. Isn't that right?"

He waited until Mr. Jones had left before he glanced over at Giovanni and smirked. He slowly stretched his arms out and popped his back as he finally relaxed into his seat. The room felt quiet without anyone else in it. That was definitely different than what he was used to. "Gio, instead of just standing there, looking pretty, why don't you make yourself useful. I need to practice giving physicals, drop those pants. Do you want to do the squeeze-and-cough, or would you prefer the finger? I'll be gentle, unless you're not into gentle." The wink he added was just for good measure as he snapped the latex glove he had on against his wrist.

"Maybe they'll leave me alone for five minutes if we give them some good gossip," Leo muttered, which didn't mean he was leaning any harder. His weight was steady where it was, his shoulder snugged against Vince's side, arm tucked comfortably at his waist. "But I know. You don't like people knowing your business." He knew Vince better than he had any right to after three months.

Leo wasn't dumb enough to think they were a thing; he wasn't some schoolgirl with a crush on the quarterback. It was just fun flirting with the local grump. That, and he got lonely; everyone here got lonely. And Vince wasn't bad-looking; in fact, he was really sexy, and sometimes his bed got cold. What were you supposed to do when your whole world had been reduced to one crumbling building, some guns, and too many people they could reasonably manage?

Sex with Vince beat sitting in his cot with his hand, it allowed him for just a few hours to pretend everything wasn't so screwed up.

"I don't know," he said. "Sometimes, people just need the gossip to get their minds off of...well, everything. Anyway, have you found out anything about your brother?" He already knew Vince would say no. Nothing had changed; he was out there, same as Vince, fighting for whatever was left.

But even if he'd gotten somewhere, Leo doubted Vince would tell him. Not unless he got him drunk, which had only happened once in their weird friends-with-benefits relationship. Even drunk, he'd held most of it back.

He needed to stop asking. It just got that look on Vince's face like he'd just kicked his puppy.

Leo kept quiet as they rode up, and they weren't alone; there were still people wandering around at night, picking at leftovers or making another go at scavenging something new, trying to stay awake. The people who'd drawn second shift that day, most of them. Some would be up at first light to hit their rounds and try to sleep in shifts after.

Vince's laugh was something Jun didn't realize he needed to hear; it made his chest feel lighter, and he found himself grinning in return, even though he wasn't entirely sure what he'd said to earn it. "He probably was biased."

Jun picked up another shirt, this one from someone his size. His uniform was starting to show its age, with all the blood, rips, and dirt. He'd patch it again tonight. The camo shirt he'd found earlier would work well, the pattern close enough to blend with his worn fatigues. Better than the last mismatched patch he'd used, anyway. He folded it carefully, tucking it away where he wouldn't forget to grab it for himself.

"You two should have seen our base in Korea," he said, mostly to keep Vince talking. He liked hearing his laugh.

He pulled himself back onto his feet and faced Vince, still sorting through clothes he might take with him. It wasn't exactly how he thought this day would go. Jun usually worked alone, and most of their interactions with survivors out here ended fast—one word or less. He hadn't expected anyone to ask him to tag along or stay nearby. But Vince didn't act like this was an unusual way to spend time outside. Jun wondered if Vince knew he was usually on his own, or if he thought they ran missions like this with others all the time.

it was a light load today. and that was a little concerning in mal's not-so-professional opinion. if it had just been today, then whatever. but it feels like recently the scavengers haven't been bringing back as much stuff. and that was the last thing they needed to have happening to them right now. a soft sigh escaped the cowboy's lips before he saw the soldier and nodded his head. “doing your patrols?” he asked as he held up a few bags in his hands. all of the supplies that the section he had been assigned to that he could find. 

or at least, the valuable stuff.

He blinked and glanced at his feet before answering. "Yes, uh, patrolling," Jun mumbled, avoiding Mal's eyes as he reached for one of the bags—Mal might have been a rancher before everything went down, but those bags still looked heavy. "This isn't much, is it? They didn't find anything useful?" he asked. Mal had to have gone over everything, probably twice.

His fingers brushed against Mal's, and that stupid blush came back, hot against his cheeks. Why did he blush so easily? Maybe it was because he talked to people so rarely. His gaze dropped again, like he could somehow make it less awkward by not looking. "It'll stretch. If it gets rough... We'll figure it out. Like we always do." He hoped that was true.

The truth was that even with patrols and scouts, this area was getting picked clean. And Metrocenter could only hold so many people—too many to move quickly. He kept thinking about that. They couldn't stay here forever.

though jeremy was still setting things up, he normally would still notice the way the other man shifted and appeared to be caught off guard at his words. something that would like have had jeremy hiding a smirk on his face. but right now? he was encased in his work. moving things around and letting out a sigh of relief as everything still seemed to be in working order. that was why he requested for a guard whenever he needed to get to his lab and do some work. because he was self aware to know that once he truly got going? the surroundings tended to blend into the background for him, and the last thing he needed was to get killed in such a pointless way. he needed to get this stuff back to the center, and in a way that he would get to keep a hold of this type of stuff. 

he looked up as he heard the other man's words and blinked almost owlishly at him for a moment before smiling. “sounds like a plan. gonna keep me nice and safe? my own little guard dog?" now this was definitely him teasing the other man. he focused back into the microscope. watching the sample of infection to see if anything has seemed to shift or change for him. 

“ideally, i'll be able to come up with an antidote. something to help us if we do get infected. but the odds of me coming up with something that will reverse the effects of people who are already infected? very low. and in some of their cases? i doubt they'd come back. missing body parts and decay would probably be a bitch to deal with." he says as he quickly writes a few things down. 

“but i don't want to go poking around in a virus i'm unfamiliar with. i could create a more potent or contagious strain. so it's important that we're careful and patient.” as annoying as it was. he wanted to undo his parent's work as soon as possible. but he had to be mindful. he swapped out the samples for another one. 

A 'guard dog' was probably not meant as flattery. But it still made Jun straighten his shoulders and feel... strangely good about himself. The job was important, no question. Protecting people wasn't glamorous, but it kept everyone else going—doctors, cooks, whoever. He would take any version of that, even if it meant sitting still in this dead place with no one but Jeremy to talk to.

It was easy to get lost watching Jeremy work. Jun didn't understand half of what was happening at that microscope. What mattered was that it could turn into something real. Something to stop what they saw every day. He wasn't one to get his hopes up over science, but he had to believe it wasn't just observation. He needed something to hold on to that said this wasn't just waiting to die like everyone else outside their walls.

His eyes drifted to that big wooden board—the one with red string and photos. It looked like something out of one of those spy movies he'd caught on cable back before everything fell apart. People connected with strings like some big tangled net, pictures he didn't recognize, but Jeremy probably knew by name. There was a blank photo, front and center, like this all revolved around him. Was this how scientists saw people? Lines and clues?

"You're talking like this antidote might not work. So if someone gets infected... that's just it?" He hated how it sounded, but someone needed to say it. "Then what are we doing here? I mean, why even look for clues about... all this?" He gestured vaguely toward that conspiracy board. "What does it fix? Can we just focus on what we can use now, like that cure?"

"I'm the picture of perfect health, I promise. I'm eating an apple a day." He looks Leo over playfully, "It's obviously not working too well. What's the saying? An apple a day keeps the doctor away?" Vincent teases, moving to lean back against his desk. He waits for Leo to move further into his office, "C'mon. Let's get this over with." It was time for Vincent to vanish for a while into the bowels of the Metrocenter so he could continue his research. If he wanted to keep up appearances he would have to allow Leo to fuss over him temporarily.

"Good thing I'm not a doctor, then. You're stuck with me." Leo added quickly, like that might soften Vincent up and make this less of an ordeal for both of them. Leo slipped past Vincent and glanced around. "Take a seat. And, uh—shirt off. That's not a come-on, I just need a look at you. Yeah, I know how that sounded. Strictly professional." It was a professional courtesy to look away in moments like these, even though Leo would see everything anyway when he examined Vincent. "You wouldn't be my first male patient, just so you know. I mean, that doesn't really help. Just... I'll just do this." Leo kept his back turned to Vincent as he moved to the little leather satchel he brought everywhere to make sure he always had all his basic supplies when he wasn't at his medical station.

With his eyes still firmly on his satchel and his hands fumbling around in his bag, he was looking for his little stethoscope, only to realize it was still hanging from his neck, knocking against his sternum with every fidgety move. He felt silly; he probably sounded silly, but he knew his job, and he could do it well. He hoped. Leo wouldn't deny that Vincent was attractive; there were very few people in this day and age who were in peak physical condition, and Vincent, in all his control-freak glory, took great care of himself. At least on paper. Even if he flirted a little, Leo was nothing if not a professional. Mostly. His stethoscope still hanging around his neck, Leo reached into his bag to find his little pen light.

His hands came up slow and open, the cherry of his cigarette a dim orange glow between them. He didn't flinch. Didn't step back. Just went still the way you learned to go still when someone who knew what they were doing had a weapon on you, shoulders loose, weight even, nothing in his posture that could be read as a threat or a twitch. "Yah." He muttered low and calm. Smoke coming out with it. "It's me." He let the quiet sit. Gave the man's hands time to remember what they were holding and why, gave his eyes time to come back from wherever they'd been. Raejun had been on both ends of that particular tunnel and he knew better than to rush it. The body always took longer than the brain. You just waited.

He didn't move his feet. His gaze dropped once to the knife, wet at the hilt, then to the shape on the concrete behind Jun. Clean. No mess worth mentioning. He read it all in about two seconds and let it go. "Nice work," he said. Flat, but he meant it. He took a drag and looked off to the side for a moment, exhaling slow, before his eyes drifted back to Jun with something dry settling into the corners of them. "So I gotta ask." He gestured lazily at the Glock with two fingers, cigarette tucked between them. "Is that still pointed at me because you haven't decided yet, or just out of habit at this point." Not really a question. The kind of sentence that didn't need a rising inflection because the joke was already lying there on the ground between them, patient, waiting to see if the other man wanted to pick it up.

"I... ah... Sorry—didn't hear you." Jun cleared his throat. He stepped forward, quickly holstering his gun again before holding out his left hand, palm open to show he held no weapon. "I apologize, I... didn't see you right away." He shook out his hand slightly. He hadn't had this reaction to someone sneaking up on him since before basic training. But that had been different. This was... new. He glanced down to be sure his gun was properly secure again before lifting his chin and focusing his attention. He knew Rae. Not well. Only by name and by face. He hadn't been stationed with him very long before getting trapped at Metro. It made it hard to know what he could say, what he could trust, though this small display felt promising.

"Are you off duty? I thought I was the only one on watch for this sector tonight." And he should have been. Someone else patrolling here meant they might be shorthanded. Maybe it was Jun's fault for being out of position. But his perimeter check was part of routine patrols; someone should have known that. And he wasn't due for another hour, not yet. There was still too much to do.

"You headed out? I can head back in, then," he offered, turning to look around at his immediate surroundings. "It's mostly clear tonight." Not all of it, but that was obvious. If it had been cleared out, he would be doing his rounds differently. But he wasn't exactly where he should have been either. His route had changed as soon as he heard those footsteps. The zombie hadn't even been that close. It had only been sound—sound and chance that pulled him in this direction.

jeremy was unpacking stuff and trying to move with a swiftness. as much as he loved being in a lab and wishes he could just truly immerse himself in it, the last thing he needed was to linger to long for any surprises to come stumbling into the area. as he unpacked vials, he also kept an eye out. looking for notes and documents that he made that he left behind in his rush, but also ones that he had taken from his parents. he wasn't sure if they made the red flu, but he knew that they were scientists for biotech. and they had convinced himself that he should want to be one as well.

guess having morals skilled a generation in his family. although now that he thinks about it? his grandparents were investors for biotech. there's a good chance that they decided to buy into the biowarfare market. honestly, jeremy was concerned that he might be the only frost who is even interested in doing the good thing. even if he has to omit the truth from the people around him from tie to time. he looks over as he hears jun speak as he finishes getting everything ready, and he almost forgot that he wasn't alone.

"formulas. possible scenarios. just about any information i have been able to get from the red flu," jeremy explains with a shrug of his shoulders. "i want to make sure that the virus isn't evolving or mutating. ideally, something will jump out and i can figure out how to make an antidote as well. but we're starting small." carefully, he grabs a sealed syringe that had previously been attached to his hypo gun. his handgun has a syringe attachment that allows him to draw blood. and he needed to draw quite a few different types.

infected that were showing older signs of decay, infected that seemed newer, and a few more. but getting them was the difficult part, which was why he was happy jun was able to come with him. holding one down and quickly getting it's blood was easier to do if he wasn't doing it by himself.

"as for 'why' this is happening? i hate to say it handsome, but this might just be a case of whatever higher power you wanna believe in deciding that we needed to be checked." a vague answer that had some kernels at least, the best type of lie that jeremy could offer in his opinion. he leans over the desk and looks in the telescope as he carefully lets a drop fall down onto the plate.

The nickname startled him; he almost tripped on nothing.

Handsome? Jun blinked at Jeremy's back. His face burned hot—surely he was blushing. It didn't make sense. Why would he say that? He wanted to brush it off like some joke, but his heart wouldn't listen. It beat hard in his chest. He glanced down at his worn boots, his too-big jacket, hands that still had blood under his nails. There was nothing handsome about him. Especially not out here. Still, he was grateful Jeremy hadn't noticed how flustered he got.

"Yeah. It was no problem." He scratched at his wrist. He didn't want Jeremy to look at him like that again—it made his skin itch. Made him feel too... seen. But he was also glad to hear that Jeremy hadn't gotten hurt. That was what mattered. "You should... stick close to me. I'll keep watch. You don't need to get surprised again." He meant it.

His attention shifted back to their surroundings—every broken window, noise he didn't recognize. They'd locked all but one entrance, and even that was just buying time. The dead didn't get tired and didn't give up. They had to move fast. Jun didn't want to find out what this place was like after sunset, when he couldn't see past ten feet and every sound could be something coming through a wall. Jeremy needed more time with the samples.

Fine. Jun would give him as much as the daylight allowed, then they were leaving, finished or not. Whatever was in those notes might help everyone at the mall. That made Jeremy the most important thing in the building, and getting the most important thing home was just the job, same as always.

"You're gonna find out how to stop it, though, right? Fix it? Not just... observe?" Jun asked. It was hard to put into words what he needed to hear. Something real that he could hold on to, not just... hopes and maybes.

"Scavenger? No, I... I mean, yes, maybe. Right now. But that's not... my main job." Jun's voice went up an octave at what he thought was an insult, but it softened, and his cheeks flushed when he realized Vince hadn't meant it like that. Scavenger was probably right; it was what they all were, but it wasn't his primary designation in their group. He was, is, a soldier. He didn't go out with people or ask what they needed and found it, like some of the others. He just protected them.

Jun pulled the second knife off his hip and held it out to Vince, handle first. It was easier than trying to explain himself. The knife had come off one of the other soldiers who made it to the mall with him on the first day. It wasn't his, exactly, but the army had issued him the same model when he arrived at the base in Washington, so he figured it counted. He liked this one better now anyway, though he couldn't have said why if anyone asked.

Vince would see the markings and know what military-grade looked like. The Glock on his hip was military too, but that one stayed where it was. One knife he could hand to a stranger. The gun was how he got everyone home.

There wasn't much to this camper. Jun's gut said Vince was right—nothing worth taking in there. He had to check anyway, just to make sure there wasn't anything moving around inside.

"Um... The place feels empty. No food, no tools. Doesn't look like anyone really lived here. Probably just... moved on to somewhere safer, I guess. Hard to know."

A few pieces of clothing lay across the floor, so the stop wasn't a total waste. Gathering clothes was one of Jun's newer duties, the one he liked best. Too many people at the mall were still wearing the same ratty t-shirts they'd arrived in. He volunteered for these runs every chance he got. He'd even found jeans in his size once, which felt like winning something. His uniforms were another story. He'd mended them so many times they were turning into an ugly patchwork, pieced together from whatever fabric came back from trips like this one. The sewing filled his evenings, though. It kept his hands busy and was an interesting way to pass his free time.

"Korean army. We were at Yakima. For training. Joint training with your guys." Jun glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. "Not that any of that matters now."

He stepped into what used to be someone's bedroom and started gathering things, just shirts mostly, then noticed some pants that might fit a few of their guys. He crouched and packed them away in his backpack.