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Chapter Text

It was late noon, and most of the residents had finished their lunches. It was something the homeowner had whipped up, filled with potatoes and carrots.

 

Wireface just completed washing his dish, brushing past the teenager who pushed her bowl towards him. He knew she wanted him to clean it for him, but he didn’t want to delay his plans.

 

Speedwalking to the closet, Wireface’s fingers clenched and unclenched in excitement. Opening and shutting the door quickly, apologizing for frightening the paranoid woman that shared the closet, Wireface sat with his back against the shelves.

 

He pulled the sleek black camera out of his pocket. Wireface turned it to look at it from all angles, watching it shine in the dim closet light.

 

He bit his lip, stopping almost immediately as a rush of pain stung his lips. Wireface brought his hand up to massage the puncture wounds on his lips.

 

With his other hand, Wireface traced over the buttons and compartments of the camera, a pained yet genuine smile spreading across his lips.

 

He had been begging the homeowner for it, repeating the word ‘camera’ until the homeowner threw it at him. Wireface had the thought that he could use the camera as some sort of entertainment. The only things he had to occupy his time was beat up old games that he didn’t understand and his own imagination.

 

Fingers danced over the settings buttons carefully. Wireface felt the dips and bumps of the camera.

 

His attention was drawn to the other occupant of the closet when he heard her confused voice.

 

Looking up, the woman was looking at him, having scooted closer to him.

 

“Hliib, dszg?(Sorry, what?)” Wireface leaned towards her as if to hear her better.

 

The woman rubbed her arm up and down against her other one. Her eyebrows furrowed together, eyes narrowing.

 

“Umm, why do you have the owner’s camera?” She asked. Her hand came up to her mouth and she began to gnaw at her nail. A habit of hers Wireface had noticed.

 

“R’n hliib, R xzm’g fmwvihgzmw blf, dszg wrw blf hzb?(I’m sorry, I can’t understand you, what did you say?)” Wireface set the camera into his lap.

 

“Umm…hahaha…” The woman’s shoulders shook in tandem with her nervous laughter. She lowered her hand into her lap. She looked at the camera in his lap, then back to Wireface.

 

Wireface followed her gaze. Was she asking about the camera?

 

“Ziv blf zhprmt zylfg gsv xznviz? Ru blf’iv dimwvirmt slf rg dliph, r xzm hslf blf.(Are you asking about the camera? If you’re wondering how it works, I can show you.)” Wireface offered, holding the camera up.

 

The woman held her hands up and waved them in a ‘no’ gesture.

 

“Oh! Um, no I-I don’t want my photo taken, if that’s what you said. Haha…” She trailed off with her laughter. Her eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but Wireface.

 

Wireface sighed. This seemed to be a bit of a pattern. She would try to talk to him–or vis-versa–and neither of the two would understand the other, and they would fall back into silence after their failed communication.

 

She would sometimes just let him talk, even if she didn’t understand a single word he was saying. Wireface appreciated it. At least someone was willing to listen to his chatter.

 

The woman eventually crawled back to her space in the corner after their shared silence stretched. She brought her hand up to her mouth again, beginning to bite.

 

The sound of her chewing and spitting out nail pieces filled the room.

 

Wireface went back to his camera, turning it around to where the concealed lens was facing him. He ran his hand over it, feeling the smoothness of the camera.

 

He slumped against the shelves, eyes scanning the ceiling as he began to wonder who to photograph. During his time in school when he most practiced photography, Wireface had found out he was best at portraits and headshots.

 

Wireface quickly ruled out the paranoid woman and the homeowner. The anxious woman would more than likely fidget and move constantly when Wireface wanted her to stay still.

 

And Wireface was almost one hundred percent sure the homeowner would rather shoot himself with his own gun than have his photo taken.

 

Okay, maybe that was exaggerated, but Wireface didn’t think the homeowner would allow him to take photos anytime soon.

 

So Wireface’s thoughts wandered to the other occupants of the house.

 

In the kitchen there was a short man with a beige shirt that read ‘amogus’--whatever that means, a woman who looked like she had just left a coven, and two young girls, that–from what Wireface had seen–didn’t get along very well.

 

The bathroom housed a man who smelt like a skunk and a mourning woman who kept her dead husband's body in the bathtub.

 

A man who seemed to be outstandingly cheerful for the state of the world sat in a chair in the office.

 

The living room contained a freakishly tall man who stunk of beer and cigarettes, a woman only a few inches taller than Wireface himself, and a man who seemed to always be cold despite the scorching heat of the sun.

 

Wireface contemplated his options.

 

The short man might allow him to photograph him, but he didn’t seem the type to play charades long enough to understand Wireface. Wireface felt like the witch was the type of woman to ask people to take photos of her, but she creeped him out too much to ask her. The teenager and little girl probably wouldn’t comprehend his requests, the former more out of malice than the other.

 

Wireface couldn’t stand the smell in the bathroom, it was a mixture of decay and weed.

 

The cheerful man would more than likely allow him, Wireface felt like he was the friendliest in the house.

 

From his observations, the tall man didn’t seem very social. The tall woman had also creeped him out, much like the witch. The cold man usually never left his spot on the couch, so Wireface doubted he would move enough to pose.

 

Mulling over his options, the cheerful man seemed to be the most approachable candidate. So Wireface decided to ask him first.

 

Emerging from the closet, Wireface shut the closet door gently. He fished out the camera from his pocket, popping out the lens.

 

He reached the office swiftly from his eagerness, going to reach for the knob.

 

“I wouldn’t open that.”

 

The tired voice of the homeowner startled him, causing him to jump. Wireface’s hand hit the doorknob as he jolted, and he recoiled it as dull pain blossomed in his fingers.

 

Stuffing the camera back into his pocket and nursing his fingers, Wireface turned with a confused look to the homeowner.

 

“Dszg?(What?)” The homeowner turned to the door. He pointed at it, glancing over at Wireface to make sure he was looking.

 

“He died last night, the trash bags are still in there.” The homeowner's eyes had a bit of a far-away look, his feet shuffling as his hand clutched the sling of his gun. Wireface eyed it warily.

 

“Hliib, what?(Sorry, what?)” Wireface rubbed his fingers together to will the pain away.

 

The homeowner’s mouth flattened. He pointed to the door, then drew a line across his neck.

 

Wireface’s eyes widened, his hands tangled together. His eyes scurried around the door.

 

“Blf…Blf proovw srn? Dzh sv z erhrgli?(You...You killed him? Was he a visitor?)” Wireface asked, turning back to the homeowner.

 

Their eyes met, staying locked for a few minutes. It felt much longer to Wireface. Wireface broke their eye contact by peering up at the others' shotgun.

 

“Dvoo?(Well?)” Wireface looked back to the green irises, watching as they widened just a bit. The other man blinked, mouth opened just a smidge.

 

“I don’t know what you said.” He gave Wireface that look that he recognized as his ‘I-don’t-know-what-you-just-said’ face.

 

Wireface huffed a bit, gazing back at the door. His mouth contorted a bit. His tongue traced his wounds.

 

Wireface pointed to the door, “Viss-hitor.….yes?”

 

“Oh, no. No he wasn’t.” The homeowner shook his hands and head in a ‘negative’ tone.

 

Wireface sighed. He ran a hand through his curls, grimacing as he felt the unwashed locks. He needs to wash it soon. Maybe the sink would work. Wireface’s eyes fell to the bottom of the door. The rooms light was off.

 

“Tivzg. Hl gsviv’h z erhrgli znlmt fh.(Great. So there’s a visitor among us.)” Wireface muttered to himself, his mouth slipping into a deep frown. He looked up at the sound of feet moving. The homeowner was passing by him, heading to the phone.

 

The orange cat followed him, rubbing against the wall and meowing up at him.

 

The homeowner glanced down, picking up the phone and dialing someone. He pressed the chunky phone between his shoulder and his ear, bending down to pick up the cat. The owner held it like a baby, scratching its scalp with his slender hands. He rocked it a bit like an infant, it was painfully obvious the homeowner has never owned a cat prior to the one he’s currently carrying.

 

Wireface let out a small laugh, eyes glimpsing between the homeowner and the office door.

 

Wireface let out a shaky sigh, intertwining his hands together. He began to step away from the room.

 

So the cheerful man was unavailable.

 

~~~~

 

A few hours had passed, and Wireface went through the other possible subjects. It went about as well as he assumed it would.

 

The tall man in the living room didn’t seem too happy to be bothered, so that option was quickly dismissed. The tall woman just blinked at him with her beady eyes. The cold man wasn’t there, for some reason. The tall man muttered something under his breath when he noticed Wireface looking for the shivering man.

 

The ‘amogus’ shirt man was too busy talking the witches ear off about something. She didn’t look too interested. The teenager just turned him away quickly, and the younger girl just dragged him to the table to draw, calling the way he spoke ‘funny’.

 

That’s where he was at the moment, sitting at the kitchen table with the little girl on his leg as they drew together. The little girl had been turning back to him every now and then to show off her current drawing. Wireface in turn had been getting up every time and hanging them up on the fridge.

 

By the time Wireface finished his drawing of the house's fat cat, the homeowner had entered to begin cooking dinner. He dropped his gun by the door of the kitchen, rolling his shoulders after.

 

Wireface shared a quick wave with the man.

 

The teenager had joined them eventually, taking out a notepad and a pencil. Wireface noticed she was trying to sneakily take a crayon. He didn’t comment on it, but he gathered them and put them in the middle of the three of them. She seemed to appreciate it.

 

The smell of beef filled the room, subtle hints of mushroom and various sauces accompanying them.

 

Wireface turned to the door creaking open, and–to Wireface’s mild surprise–the cold man entered. The orange cat bound in after the freezing man.

 

Wireface watched as the trembling man approached the homeowner with dragging feet, looking over his shoulder. The man’s hands were tucked under his arms. His teeth chattered as he stared at the stove.

 

The homeowner noticed his staring and asked him something. The cold man uttered something back with a surprisingly deep voice.

 

The homeowner turned on the stove top next to the one he was using. He scooted over to make room for the trembling man. The cold man’s hands removed themselves from their place in his arms, hovering over the stove like an open fire.

 

The cat jumped up onto the countertop and meowed at the homeowner. The homeowner pet it gingerly, Wireface noticed a faint smile as he did so.

 

There was a sudden knock at the front door, which caught the attention of the homeowner. He turned to the cold man and seemed to ask him something, the cold man nodding his head. The homeowner left quickly after that, slinging his shotgun across his back.

 

Wireface spared a quick peek over to the stove. The cold man was now looking over the food, stirring it a bit.

 

Wireface turned back to the table when the little girl tugged on his shirt. She showed him another drawing, one of the homeowner and the cat. Wireface smiled.

 

The cat began to meow again, seemingly to get attention again. After the cold man presumably didn’t give it the attention it wanted, it huffed and jumped down to the kitchen table.

 

Wireface watched as it circled around the cold man’s legs. The man seemed to notice and shooed it away with his feet.

 

Wireface stuck his hand out and cooed at the cat. It approached him with a bit of hesitance, bumping its cold wet nose against his palm. After sniffing him a bit, it rammed his head into his hand signalling it wanted to be pet.

 

Wireface petted the cat and felt its short orange hair. Wondering what its name was, he looked up to the other occupants of the table.

 

“Wl zmb lu blf pmld gsv prggb’h mznv? Rh rg z ylb li z trio?((Do any of you know the kitty’s name? Is it a boy or a girl?)” Wireface was met with varying looks of confusion. He sighed lightly and laughed it off.

 

As the cat jumped onto the table, Wireface heard the cold man behind him clear his throat.

 

“Gsv x-xzg’h mznv rh ‘Mzkviwrhs’, R s-svziw gsv l-ldmvi xzoo rg gszg. R wlm’g pmld gsv t-t-tvmwvi gslfts.((The c-cats name is ‘Naperdish’, I h-heard the o-owner call it that. I don’t know the g-g-gender though.)” The cold man answered. He was looking at Wireface with a neutral expression.

 

Wireface looked over his shoulder, his hand pausing. The cat meowed when his hand stopped. Wireface resumed petting it.

 

While looking at the cat Wireface asked, “Blf, fn blf fs…Blf hkvzp Tvlitrzm?(You, um you uh…you speak Georgian?)”

 

“Ls bvzs, R-R o-ovzimvw rg wfirmt x-xloovtv.(Oh yeah, I-I l-learned it during c-college.)” Wireface heard the other man’s feet shuffle against the tile.

 

Wireface swallowed thickly, bringing his hands together to fiddle with each other in barely concealed excitement.

 

Finally, someone here who could understand him.

Chapter Text

A giggle slipped past Wireface’s scared lips. He watched with increasing amusement as Sergey–the cold man’s name Wireface has come to learn–pushed Naperdish away as he sniffled. He’s learned in the past half hour that the other man was mildly allergic to feline fur. However, much to the cold man’s displeasure, the cat seemed to like him.

 

It was nearing around nine p.m., most of the occupants of the kitchen had left in favor to play some random board game in the living room. Wireface and Sergey had been chatting for a bit as the little girl moved from Wireface’s leg to the chair next to him. She continued to show off her drawings to him occasionally.

 

The two of them had been bouncing topic to topic, Wireface leading most of their discussions. When the homeowner returned he paused to wave hello to him. The homeowner hesitantly waved back. Wireface smiled. He didn’t smile back.

 

The homeowner had reentered a little while ago, his gun placed back by the door. He was currently letting the food on the stove simmer, going over and grabbing any and all bowls he could find. Wireface watched as the man began to pour whatever he had made into bowls.

 

Looking back over, Wireface grabbed Naperdish and sat the cat in his lap. Sergey gave him a sniffly thank you.

 

A bowl was shortly placed in front of Wireface, the smell of beef, mushrooms and various spices filled his senses. He noticed Sergey and the little girl got their own bowls.

 

Wireface heard the kitchen door open and shut behind the homeowner. He assumed he was bringing the other guests their food.

 

Wireface lifted his spoon about to take a bite, but was interrupted by a few tugs on his shirt. He looked down at the little girl who had pulled on his shirt. She wasn’t looking at him back, instead a little behind him. She pointed at what she was staring at with a concerned face.

 

Turning his head to see what she was looking at so worriedly, Wireface nearly choked on his own spit.

 

Sergey was scarfing down food like a starved man. Bits of beef and mushroom stuck to the space around his mouth, broth dripped from his chin onto the table. His spoon scraped against the bowl in an ear-grating rhythm.

 

“Uh…Rh rg tllw?(Is it good?)” Wireface asked, eyes a bit wide at how rabidly the cold man was eating.

 

“Bvzs.(Yeah.)” Sergey replied. He chewed while he talked, licking around his mouth for anything that was stuck to his face.

 

“R’w zhhfnv rg rh, blf’iv vzgrmt rg orpv z izyrw zmrnzo.(I’d assume it is, you’re eating it like a rabid animal.)” Wireface’s lip was scrunched up as he watched a piece of mushroom slide down Sergey’s cheek and hit the table.

 

Sergey paused and moved his head up, seeing Wireface’s expression, then the little girls. The girl's face was a look of shock and strangely awe, just watching Sergey in fascination.

 

“Ls. Llkh.(Oh. Oops.)” Sergey didn’t stop how savage he was eating it, somehow keeping that cool expression on like he always did.

 

Wireface sighed with an entertained tone, going over to his food. He lifted up the fork provided, and brought it to his mouth.

 

Wireface hummed as the heat of the beef warmed his mouth. It wasn’t bad, but nothing bowl-scrapingly good. Wireface was glad it wasn’t potatoes again.

 

As Wireface ate his meal and kept glancing over at Sergey’s rapid eating, the kitchen door opened again. Wireface heard feet shuffle in. The bowls and plates the homeowner left out moved about.

 

Words that Wireface didn't understand floated around the room. The sound of food being poured into bowls and curved plates filled the small space. Forks and spoons were being removed and passed around, the metallic sound bouncing around the walls.

 

Wireface felt content for a moment. The sounds and atmosphere had a sense of community. It felt like a bit of comfort in the current state of the world, even if it was small.

 

As quickly as the voices and shuffling feet entered the room, they left just as fast.

 

When the door swung shut, Sergey got up. He brought his bowl to the stove, pouring himself a bigger portion with the ladle. It was up to the brim, and Sergey bent down to slurp on it so it wouldn’t spill when he moved it.

 

Wireface let out a short laugh as he watched him. His hands went down to Naperdish, who was still laid in his lap. The cats purring vibrated throughout his legs.

 

Wireface went to pick up the cat so he could grab a glass of water, and in doing so he felt a hard object protruding from his right pocket.

 

“Ls! R szw zonlhg ulitlggvm,(Oh! I had almost forgotten,)” Wireface stood up and fished out something from his pocket. Naperdish jumped down as he rose, “Xzm R gzpv blfi kslgl?(Can I take your photo?)”

Chapter Text

The dim overhead light of the closer illuminated the room. The orange adjacent light caused Sergey’s face to look softer.

 

The smaller of the two was sitting against the wall. He had packed on another layer of clothing with Wireface’s hoodie. Wireface had given it to the other thinking it would help with the man's cold, Sergey had thanked him despite it not seeming to help his case in the slightest.

 

Wireface was against the shelves, fiddling with the camera settings. His lips were in a small smile. He was over the moon that Sergey had agreed to having photos taken. Wireface had quickly guided him to the closet after Sergey finished his seconds.

 

The woman who shared a closet with Wireface was gone, attending that night's social time. ‘Social Time’ was a nightly routine the cheerful man had created after his first night in the house, thinking it would bring up morale.

 

Wireface assumed the other guests only joined because there was promised alcohol.

 

The two inhabitants of the closet sat in silence. The only sounds that were heard were Sergey’s constant shivering and the occasional subtle click of the camera.

 

Sergey’s arms were wrapped around himself, arms trembling where they rested. His jacket had creases where his hands dug into it.

 

With a final adjustment, Wireface made a noise of satisfaction as he held the camera up to his eyes.

 

“Lpzb, R gsrmp R tlg gsv hvggrmth irtsg,(Okay, I think I got the settings right,)” Sergey looked up at Wireface as he spoke, “Xzm blf klhv?(Can you pose?)”

 

“Fs, sld w-wl blf dzmg n-nv gl?(Uh, how d-do you want m-me to?)” Sergey moved his arm up awkwardly, bending his elbow at a 90 degree angle.

 

“Qfhg gib gl ollp mzgfizo, R dzmg gl gib xzmwrw kslglh urihg.(Just try to look natural, I want to try candid photos first.)” Wireface requested, Sergey nodding in turn.

 

Sergey moved his arm down to rest his elbow on his knee, his hand falling into the palm of his hand. He looked directly at the camera, making it felt more like a photo shoot than a candid photo.

 

Wireface supposed it was good enough.

 

The camera’s flash caused Sergey’s eyes to close on instinct, the light attacking his retinas.

 

The photo began to print out of the top, slowly falling out. Wireface caught it before it dropped to the floor.

 

Wireface shook it a bit, hurrying the development process. He inspected the polaroid, seeing a person's silhouette in the shape of the other man. However, instead of Sergey’s pale skin, he was blue, no features of the man in front of Wireface. The space around him was a tanned orange, and a mysterious black spot plagued the middle of Sergey’s abdomen.

 

Right, it wasn’t a normal camera.

 

Wireface sighed, but he raised the camera up again, determined to make the most of it.

 

Sergey posed again without needing to be asked, his right hand going to rest on his left shoulder, head bowed just a bit. His lip looked like it was in an unintentional pout, his jowls rounding his face further.

 

It looked about as candid as the last photo, but Wireface didn’t entirely mind.

 

“Kviuvxg…(Perfect…)” Wireface uttered against the camera, snapping a few photos in quick succession from different angles.

 

The photos printed out one after the other, falling into his lap. By the time Wireface brought them up to his face, Sergey had his head turned away.

 

Wireface noticed and snapped a quick photo of him, surprising Sergey with the sudden flash. Wireface let out a small chuckle. Sergey frowned.

 

Observing the photos, they all had the same aura as the last ones, just from different angles. Wireface piled them up near his crossed legs.

 

“Fslhv dvivm’g evib xzmwrw, yfg blf xzm’g ivzoob gvoo uiln gsv kslglh.(Those weren’t very candid, but you can’t really tell from the photos.)” Wireface commented, handing a polaroid over to his model when asked.

 

Sergey rotated them in his hands, his eyes seemed glued to the black portion of his photo.

 

Wireface went to mess with the camera’s settings again as Sergey observed the photo. Wanting to mix up how the photos looked, Wireface made the focus to wear it would be a close up shot.

 

When he was pleased with his fixes, Wireface tapped on Sergey’s shoulder to get his attention. Sergey quickly let the photo fall to the ground.

 

“R dzmg gl tvg hlnv svzwhslgh, ru gszg’h urmv.(I want to get some headshots, if that’s fine.)” Wireface explained. Sergey made a contemplative face, looking off to the side before going back to normal.

 

Sergey nodded, shifting where he sat. His shoulders trembled, teeth chattering as he moved.

 

Wireface began to crawl the short distance to Sergey, the latter's eyebrows raising slightly in curiosity. Wireface wanted to fix some of Sergey’s attributes in hope it would enhance the aura.

 

Wireface stopped just an inch from where his knees would touch Sergey’s legs.

 

Wireface had his hands hovering over Sergey’s head in a silent question, peering down at said man. Sergey hesitantly nodded after a moment of thinking.

 

Wireface smiled as brushed the other man’s hair around somewhat, rustling his surprisingly rough hair. He smoothed down the strays in Sergey’s hair, fingering through the bob.

 

This sort of felt like an accomplishment of some sort, like petting a feral cat. Wireface misses his cats back home. He wonders how they’re doing.

 

Wireface moved part of Sergey’s to the side of his face. Wireface gasped.

 

“Ls! Blf szev tzftvh!(Oh! You have gauges!)” Wireface exclaimed, holding onto the other man's ears. He stuck his finger through the gauged hole, smirking as he held back a giggle.

 

Sergey looked up at him with narrowed eyes, the ghost of a small smile tugging on the edges of his lips.

 

“Bvzs, R-R tlg gsvn w-wfirmt nb hvxlmw b-bvzi lu hvxlmwzib h-hxsllo.(Yeah, I-I got them d-during my second y-year of secondary s-school.)” Sergey took over tucking the rest of his blue bangs behind his other gauged ear.

 

Wireface moved to look at the other ear. Wireface’s eyes switched from one to the other.

 

“ Hvxlmwzib hxsllo?(Secondary school?)” Wireface’s eyes focused on Sergey’s as he inquired.

 

“B-bvzs, g-gdl bvzih lu fkkvi hvxlmwzib h-hxsllo. Rg’h orpv dszg blf tl gl zugvi z x-xvigzrm tizwv. Dszg wlvh T-Tvlitrz szev?(Y-yeah, t-two years of upper secondary s-school. It’s like what you go to after a c-certain grade. What does G-Georgia have?)” Sergey looked up, eyes darting across the smooth ceiling.

 

Wireface subconsciously twirled some blue hair in between his fingers. Sergey’s nose crinkled and he swatted the other’s hands away. Wireface let them fall into his lap where the camera rested.

 

“ Zoo bvzih hgfwb rm gsv hznv yfrowrmt. Hl, gsviv rhm’g ivzoob ‘hvxlmwzib hxsllo’.(All years study in the same building. So, there isn’t really ‘secondary school’.)” Wireface’s head turned up to see where Sergey was looking. There was a crack in the ceiling.

 

Sergey hummed in response.

 

“R zohl szev vziirmth, yfg gsvb’iv qfhg mlinzo kvrixrmth.(I also have earrings, but they're just normal piercings.)” Wireface added, removing his hands from his lap. He tucked his curly hair behind his pierced ear.

 

He placed his hand behind his ear, feeling his earring land in his palm. Sergey tipped forward, eyes examining the earring. It was oval-shaped with intricate details etched into the metal. A simple but meaningful design.

 

“Zxgfzoob gsv hglib yvsrmw gszg rh prmwz ufmmb,(Actually the story behind that is kinda funny,)” Wireface let out a small laugh, letting go of his ear, “Nb...uirvmw hvmg nv zmw vziirmt gl nzgxs srh, orpv z uirvmwhsrk yizxvovg prmw lu. Yfg orpv, R wrwm'g pmld zmb krvixvih, zmw R wrwm'g ivzoob szev zmb nlmvb gl kzb uli lmv, hl R wrw rg nbhvou. Ls nb TLW gsviv dzh hl nfxs yollw, rg gllp nv z uvd girvh yvuliv rg dvmg gsilfts hfxxvhhufoob. R zonlhg tlg zm rmuvxgrlm yfg rg xovzivw fk. SZ! Ls blf hslfow szev svziw nb uirvmwh ivzxgrlm dsvm R glow srn zylfg rg, sv uivzpvw gsv UFXP LFG!(My...friend sent me and earring to match his, like a friendship bracelet kind of. But like, I didn't know any piercers, and I didn't really have any money to pay for one, so I did it myself. Oh my GOD there was so much blood, it took me a few tries before it went through successfully. I almost got an infection but it cleared up. HA! Oh you should have heard my friends reaction when I told him about it, he freaked the FUCK OUT!)” While Wireface had rambled about his experience, Sergey had been watching intently.

 

Sergey’s eyes were wide, pupils looking around Wireface’s expression. Wireface began to feel awkward from the intense staring and uncomfortable silence.

 

“Dszg?(What?)” Wireface asked a bit impatiently, leaning away a bit from the eyes that bore into him.

 

Sergey’s unblinking eyes didn’t move from Wireface’s.

 

“Blf gzop z o-olg.(You talk a l-lot.)” Sergey commented. Wireface let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

 

“R'ev yvvm glow gszg yvuliv,(I've been told that before,)” Wireface grabbed the camera from his lap, adjusting his grip on it, “Blf wlm'g hvvn orpv nfxs lu z gzopvi, irtsg?(You don't seem like much of a talker, right?)”

 

“Vs, mlg i-ivzoob…(Eh, not r-really…)” Sergey glanced away.

 

“Zmb ivzhlm dsb mlg?(Any reason why not?)”

 

“Fs...mlylwb ivzoob o-orhgvmvw gl nv d-dsvm R hklpv...hl. Qfhg hgzigvw gl gzop ovhh, R hfkklhv.(Uh...nobody really l-listened to me w-when I spoke...so. Just started to talk less, I suppose.)” Sergey admitted, looking as his nails as he began to pick at them.

 

“Ls.(Oh.)”

 

Well that felt unnecessarily heavy. Wireface kept his eyes on the camera. He uselessly fiddled with the settings again.

 

“Hl! Svzwhslgh!(So! Headshots!)” Wireface raised the camera to his face suddenly, causing the other man to tense from the movement. Wireface let out an airy laugh. He looked into the camera lens.

 

“B-bvzs,(Y-yeah,)” Sergey moved up, not even attempting to make sure his hair stayed tucked, “Ziv g-gslhv orpv, kligizrgh?(Are t-those like, portraits?)”

 

“Yzhrxzoob,(Basically,)” Wireface looked over to Sergey, quickly dropping the camera as he sighed, “Blfi szrih yzxp rm blfi uzxv…(Your hairs back in your face…)”

 

Wireface’s hand went back to Sergey’s locks, fixing his bangs. Sergey grunted in response and his mouth twisted in a subtle pout.

 

Sergey’s hair felt rough in his hands as they returned to his blue hair, and Wireface had to ask.

 

“Dsvm dzh gsv ozhg grnv blf dzhsvw blfi szri?(When was the last time you washed your hair?)” Sergey’s nose scrunched up again, Wireface snorting at his expression.

 

“R’n m-mlg tlrmt gl z-zmhdvi gszg, h-hliib.(I’m n-not going to a-answer that, s-sorry.)” Wireface squinted at the other, slowly lowering his hands away, palms up as if he touched something he didn’t mean to.

 

“Hl blf wlm'g...hsldvi?(So you don't...shower?)” Wireface questioned, his hands curling into loose fists.

 

“Gszg dlnzm rm gsv yzgsilln szh svi w-w-wvxzbrmt sfhyzmw lxxfkbrmt gsv g-gfy.(That woman in the bathroom has her d-d-decaying husband occupying the t-tub.)” Sergey defended himself, his arms returning to wrap around his middle.

 

“Lpzb uzri klrmg, yfg gsviv'h hgroo gsv hrmp.(Okay fair point, but there's still the sink.)” Wireface crossed his arms across his chest in a counter to Sergey’s body language.

 

“R xzm'g dzhs nbhvou kilkviob drgs g-gsv hrmp.(I can't wash myself properly with t-the sink.)”

 

Wireface gave the other an unimpressed look. Sergey shrugged.

 

“Ls xlnv lm rg xzmmlg yv xlnuligzyov yvrmt fmdzhsvw....blf'iv tlrmt gl hgzig gl hnvoo, nzm.(Oh come on it cannot be comfortable being unwashed....you're going to start to smell, man.)” Wireface argued, his arms loosening.

 

“R wlm'g nrmw.(I don't mind.)” Sergey’s shoulders shuffled as he repositioned himself against the wall.

 

Wireface narrowed his eyes at the other once more. Sergey’s face was unmoving. Wireface leaned a bit closer, to which Sergey shrunk into his scarf.

 

Wireface blinked, his eyes widening as he sniffed again.

 

“Zxgfzoob, Blf wlm'g hnvoo orpv zmbgsrmt,(Actually, You don't smell like anything,)” Wireface got a bit closer, just barely missing touching the other, “Blf prmwz hnvoo...izrm-orpv..wznk rm z dzb. Orpv dvg. Rg'h kilyzyob uiln gsv hdvzg uiln dvzirmt hl nzmb ozbvih.(You kinda smell...rain-like..damp in a way. Like wet. It's probably from sweating from wearing so many layers.)”

 

“R wlm’g hdvzg.(I don’t sweat.)” Sergey kept a straight face at his bold-faced lie.

 

“Lpzb gsviv rh ml DZB blf wlm’g hdvzg, blf’iv dvzirmt orpv dszg, gsivv ozbvih?(Okay there is no WAY you don’t sweat, you’re wearing like what, three layers?)” Wireface backed up and crossed his arms again. His eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head in suspicion.

 

“Urev,(Five,)” Sergey corrects, Wireface rolls his eyes, “Zmw h-hdvzg xlloh gsv ylwb, R wlm’g g-gsrmp R xzm tvg zmb x-x-xlowvi…(And s-sweat cools the body, I don’t t-think I can get any c-c-colder…)”

 

Wireface made a noise of acknowledgement. He supposed that made sense. He opted to stop touching the other man's unwashed hair.

 

The camera came up again, and Sergey tried to look natural.

 

“H-hliib ru R’n mlg gsv y-yvhg nlwvo, m-ml lmv’h vevi i-ivzoob gzpvm nb k-kslgl yvuliv. Rg uvvoh mrxv.(S-sorry if I’m not the b-best model, n-no ones ever r-really taken my p-photo before. It feels nice.)”

 

Wireface pressed the shutter button. A flash appeared quickly. Sergey tried not to blink.

 

“Ivzoob? Gszgh z hsznv, blf szev gsv nzpv lu z tllw lmv(Really? That's a shame, you have the make of a good one.).” Wireface complimented him with eyes wide from minor surprise. He pressed the button again. Another flashed appeared swiftly. This time Sergey had no trouble keeping his eyes open.

 

“Fs...gszmp blf…(Uh…thank you…)” Sergey muttered softly, his shoulders tensing just a tad. Wireface smiled and nodded.

 

Before Wireface could take a third photo, the closet door swung open. Both men jumped as the door slammed against the shelves.

 

“Oh, shit…” A feminine voice slurred, and looking up, Wireface saw the red-haired paranoid woman standing at the door. She swayed more than she usually did.

 

Oh, right. She had been at the social night, she was more than likely drunk. Wireface’s mood soured.

 

God how long had they been in this closet?

 

She looked over to the two, jumping a bit, not expecting to see an extra guest in her temporary room.

 

“Oh, uh…hello.” She awkwardly waved, a lopsided grin plastered on her face. Her movements were jerky. Wireface sighed through his nose.

 

As Sergey waved, Wireface gathered the photos he had taken and stood. He found a box that was unoccupied and shoved them inside gracelessly.

 

Wireface turned to Sergey.

 

““Rg hvvnh rg’h blfi grnv gl ovzev, fmuligfmzgvob. R xzm trev blf gsv kslglh glnliild ru blf’w orpv.(It seems it’s your time to leave, unfortunately. I can give you the photos tomorrow if you’d like.)” Wireface looked down to Sergey as the woman shuffled between them to go to her usual spot in the corner.

 

Wireface’s eyes moved from Sergey to her, tracking her movements.

 

“Ls, fn. Lpzb, bvzs. R'w o-orpv gszg.(Oh, um. Okay, yeah. I'd l-like that.)” Sergey stood up and brushed off invisible dust from his pants.

 

Wireface glanced between Sergey moving towards the open closet door and the woman–who, at this point, had passed out against the wall.

 

After a minute of silence, Wireface turned over to Sergey standing in the doorway. His eyes were downturned, and he seemed to be contemplating something. He was subtly biting his lip, hands clenching and unclenching.

 

Sergey turned to him.

 

“X-Xzm dv nvvg glnliild? R dzmg g-gl...hsld blf h-hlnvgsrmt.(C-Can we meet tomorrow? I want t-to...show you s-something.)”

 

Wireface’s expression brightened at the offered hang out, ““Bvzs, glgzoob! Wl blf dzmg gl yv rm gsv xolhvg zg gsv hznv grnv?(Yeah, totally! Do you want to be in the closet at the same time?)” Wireface beamed down at him, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His puncture wounds hurt to stretch to accommodate his smile.

 

“Bvzs.(Yeah)” Sergey turned to face the hallway, his hair nearly covering a sliver of a smile.

 

“O-K, bahbye!” Wireface waved goodbye to Sergey as the other man began to walk back to the living room.

 

Wireface heard Sergey’s giggle from behind the door.

 

Wireface sighed from the possible new friendship, before he turned around and groaned quietly at the woman asleep against the wall. He rubbed his arm as a small comfort.

 

Wireface inhaled deeply through his nose, letting it all out through his mouth.

 

He lowered himself gently next to the woman in the cramped space, laying on his back.

 

Fingers brushed against his bare shirt, and that’s when he noticed.

 

Sergey still had his jacket.

Chapter Text

The sound of the shotgun firing is what ripped Wireface from dreamless sleep.

 

The gunshot rang throughout the house’s thin walls. The woman next to him stumbled over her long limbs to sit up. Her eyes were glued to the door, much like Wireface’s.

 

He was sitting up on his elbows, his bones digging into the wooden flooring uncomfortably. Wireface winced in pain but didn’t move from his spot on the floor.

 

A door in the hallway opened and shut, heavy footsteps approached the closet entrance.

 

Wireface’s frozen trance was broken when the door to the closet opened, swinging and hitting the wall as it had the night before.

 

Wireface and the woman scrambled up, the woman tripping a bit before standing straight. Wireface would’ve giggled if the homeowner's paranoid stare wasn’t focused on him.

 

The homeowner’s front was stained with blood, bits of flesh clinging to the wool of his sweater. Wireface felt like gagging. He heard the woman next to him gasp quietly.

 

The homeowner stalked over to Wiface, holding out his hand and demanding something.

 

“Szmwh? Urmv.(Hands? Fine.)” Wireface stuck his own out as a mimic. His nails were cut short and clean.

 

The homeowner checked the woman next to him, her nails dirty and short from her biting.

 

Wireface saw something in the homeowner's eyes shift, and he raised the gun steadily to the woman's head.

 

“DSZG gsv SVOO?!(WHAT the HELL?!)” Wireface exclaimed as he scooted back into the shelves. A box that rested too close to the edge fell. Photographs sprawled out on the ground.

 

The woman looks from the gun to her nails with frantically wide eyes. Her hands shake as she says something. She looks off to the side as her shoulders tense.

 

Wireface’s eyes shift between the two nervously. Was her dirty nails a sign of being a visitor? Or was it that she bit them short? Wireface spared a glance down at his nails.

 

A few specks of grime dirtied his nails. Blood from his stitches. He’d have to wash them soon.

 

Looking back to the homeowner, he let out a shaky sigh and lowered the gun. He slung it against his back as the woman rambled in response.

 

The homeowner only uttered something to her. She nodded. He turned to leave the closet and return to his room.

 

Wireface cautiously followed behind the homeowner, guardedly eyeing the shotgun slung across his back.

 

Wireface paused at the fork in the hallway to watch the Homeowner return to his isolated room. The house was eerily silent as the door creaked open and closed.

 

Wireface shook his head and looked down to his nails again. Right. Gotta clean them.

 

Wireface trudged to the bathroom, his lips feeling like pins and needles as he bit into them. Who was the person that was shot, he wondered. Were they shot because they had dirty nails? What a stupid reason.

 

Wireface didn’t know their symptoms other than what the homeowner had tested him for, but it all felt so silly to him. Having straight teeth and dirty nails felt like normal human traits.

 

Or maybe Wireface was being naive.

 

Entering the bathroom, the smell of rot and smoke filled his nostrils. Wireface grimaced. Right, the mourning woman had a dead body soaking in the tub, and a man who smelt like a skunk sat on the washing machine.

 

Speaking of him…

 

“What happened?” The stoner asked, eyes squinting as he leaned on the washing machine. He began to slip forward before he caught himself. He giggled bubbly.

 

“Dszg?(What?)” Wireface leaned forward, as if that would help him understand the other better.

 

“Oh shit, sorry man, forgot you don’t speak Russian. Uh…” The stoner paused, before looking to the woman sitting by the tub, “Yooo, how do you say ‘what happened’ in gibberish?”

 

Wireface looked over to the woman, trying his best to not look at the skeletal figure of her husband right behind her.

 

She looking up from where her head rested on her hand. She sniffled. Her face looked slightly annoyed and exhausted. Wireface felt bad for her.

 

“He doesn’t speak ‘gibberish.’” She told the other man, looking down to her bent knees.

 

“Then what does he speak?”

 

The woman sighed, “I don’t know, but it’s not gibberish.”

 

“How do you know?” The stoner questioned her, tilting his head at her as his eyes narrowed again.

 

“Because ‘gibberish’ isn’t a language.” The woman’s tone was harsher this time, causing the stoners arms to go up in a surrender pose. He uttered something under his breath before leaning against the wall.

 

Wireface’s gaze darted between the two before he denounced they had finished talking. Both to themselves and him.

 

He approached the sink, noticing a few pairs of toothbrushes piled on the side of the porcelain.

 

Wireface grabbed the soap bar that rested on the sink, turning on the water and running his hands under it. It felt a bit of a shock as it was near freezing. It warmed quickly enough, allowing Wireface to lather his hands.

 

He got under his nails, feeling the cleaner gather under his nailbeds. Wireface winced at the feeling. He quickly rinsed it out.

 

Drying his hands quickly, he inspected his nails for any dirt or grime. Nothing. He sighed a breath of relief. Just to be sure, however, he held out his hands to the woman by the tub.

 

“Wl nb szmwh ollp xovzm gl blf?(Do my hands look clean to you?)” Wireface inquired, searching the woman's face intently. He bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation for her answer.

 

She looked up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Her gaze went from his nails to his face.

 

“...Your nails? What about them?”

 

“Dszg? Ziv blf hzbrmt gsvb'iv xovzm? Li wrigb?(What? Are you saying they're clean? Or dirty?)” Wireface mouth shifted to the side, eyebrows furrowed in nervousness.

 

“What are you talking about? What about your nails?” The woman held up her hand to lightly brush against Wireface’s fingertips. She observed them, noticing how red they were from rough scrubbing.

 

Wireface looked off to the side. How could he communicate his question?

 

He drew his hands back, running his thumbs against his pale nails. Wireface’s tongue moved around in his mouth, feeling over his teeth.

 

Wireface returned his hands to in front of the woman.

 

“Oh-kay?” Wireface asked in broken Russian.

 

“Okay? Okay what?”

 

He knew those two words. ‘Okay’ and ‘What.’

 

He needed to elaborate. Wireface tried to remember how the word ‘nails’ sounded in Russian.

 

“Naah-ls...oh-kay?”

 

It seemed to click in the womans brain after a short moment.

 

“Oh, you’re asking if your nails are human,” She looked back down to others nails, “Yeah, they look fine.” She gave him a small thumbs up.

 

Wireface sighed again. He looked down at his nails as he left the restroom.

 

They looked red and raw from his scrubbing. Wireface ran his thumbs over his nails and skin again. It felt weirdly smooth.

 

Before he rented the closet, Wireface looked around when he felt someone watching him.

 

Wireface’s eyes locked with another's. Narrow pupils stared into his, unblinking.

 

“Fs...svb.(Uh…hey.)” Wireface attempted to wave, but it felt short as his hand tremored. He shoved it into his pocket.

 

Sergey just stared at him, eyes unwavering. He lowered his head in a menacing way, before he turned to reenter the living room.

 

Wireface watched as his orange hoodie left his line of sight.

Chapter Text

It was after dark, sometime around 10. Wireface couldn't remember, and there wasn’t a clock in the living room for him to check the time with.

 

Wireface was currently sitting on the couch next to Sergey. They were attending the social night, something that Wireface hadn’t usually done. It felt less awkward to have a friend there when no one can understand you.

 

The group in the living room was playing some card game named ‘Durak’ that Wireface wasn’t paying much attention to. They had brought in the table from the office to post their drinks and cigarette butts. Now the oak was plagued with cup rings and burn marks.

 

The tall man was also occupying the couch, sitting where he usually sat, nursing a beer in his hands. The witch was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, a new guest the homeowner had let in a few nights ago sat next to her.

 

The red-haired teenager was sat only a few feet away from, trying and failing to hide the beer she held behind her knees.

 

The stoner was leaning against the left side of the couch, almost hitting Wireface’s close knit legs. A marijuana cigarette dangled from his fingers, its smoke wafted through the room. Wireface’s eyes squinted at the bitter scent.

 

He could only imagine what the mourning woman had to go through.

 

Wireface watched the people circled around the table play the game. Some of the players looked anxious, others confident, and some looked too tipsy to not care how the game ended.

 

Sergey seemed like the later option.

 

Said man was holding his fifth beer of the night, cards in his right hand. Sergey was hunched over slightly as his eyes glazed over the other players. He focused lazily on their movements, almost like a trance.

 

Wireface’s eyes trailed over the others, akin to Sergey’s.

 

Wireface wondered what the guests' names were. He had made up nicknames in his head based on his first opinions about them, and it felt rude to continue to call them by those names.

 

So when it looked like Sergey’s turn was over, his hand turning down and a beer can raised to his lips, Wireface got his attention.

 

Sergey startled a bit from Wireface’s poke to his side, but he regained composure quickly.

 

Turning to Wireface to separate their conversation from the others and setting his beer on his knee, Sergey inquired, “B-bvh? Dszg rh rg?(Y-yes? What is it?)”

 

“Dszg’h svi mznv?(What’s her name?)” Wireface subtly pointed over to the tall woman, turning his head to look down at Sergey. Sergey in turn looked at the woman he was pointing towards. He went down to take a sip of his beer.

 

“Katya.” Sergey grimaced after swallowing the lukewarm beverage.

 

“Srh?(His?)” Wireface moved his hand over to the new guest, one of the guests' hands looked diseased. Wireface squinted at it.

 

“Edgar Poe.” Sergey replied as he watched the tall man next to him play his turn. He was almost all out of cards.

 

“Dszg zylfg svi’h?(What about her’s?)” Wireface’s finger moved to the witch, Sergey’s eyes moving with it.

 

“Antonia.”

 

Wireface continued until he learned all that Sergey knew;

 

The stoner’s name was Alexei, the tall man’s name was Esenin, the mourning woman’s name was Jena, the woman who shared a closet with him was Natacha, and the cheerful man's name had been Luka.

 

As Wireface memorized the guests' names, cards abruptly hit the table. It captured his attention, looking over he saw the teenager bang her head against the table as her arms lay out against the dark wood.

 

When Wireface turned to him with a confused look at the dramatic display, Sergey explained, “Hsv o-olhg.(She l-lost.)”

 

“I call for a rematch! That play was rigged!” The teen demanded, her hands colliding with the table. It caused Antonia to jump, before she laid her cards out with a brown prominent on her long thin mouth.

 

“Can you even rig Durak…?” Wireface heard Alexei mutter to no one in particular.

 

“It’s alright, I’m sure you can win next round. There has to be a chance, no?” Edgar Poe rested his uninjured hand on the teenager's shoulder. She tensed and scooted away from him quickly. It didn’t seem like he minded.

 

“We’re going again? Haha..This has to be the sixth round. I think.” Natacha spoke up for the first time tonight. Her cardless hands messed with the beer tab. Wireface was sure she had a collection by now from how many tabs she had broken off from those cans.

 

The teen grumbled something under her breath before taking a sip of her room-temp beer. She made a face as if she had just bitten into a lemon, quickly schooling her expression and lowering the drink.

 

Wireface bit the inside of his cheek to stop his laughter. The teenager noticed however, turning away, face red with embarrassment.

 

The adults in the room began to converse if they should start a new game or if they should turn in for the night. The teenager was quiet, her red eyes flickering over the chattering grown-ups.

 

During the discussion, Sergey turned to face Wireface.

 

“Uloold nv.(Follow me.)” Sergey told the other man, beginning to stand. He stumbled a bit before he regained his balance.

 

Sergey stepped over Wireface’s legs, keeping his drink held up so it wouldn’t spill. Wireface followed suit.

 

The two of them left the room with Sergey leading. In the hallway he chugged his beer, crushing it soon after. Sergey had held a finger up while he went to the bathroom, and Wireface was waiting patiently outside of the room.

 

Leaning against the wall, Wireface studied the curtains and wall paper by the entrance. He quickly noticed the cat, as well, when it meowed from its resting place on the arm chair.

 

Wireface walked over and petted the cat. It purred against his hand. He scratched under its chin, watching it for a few seconds before he looked around the hallway again.

 

There wasn’t much; a small end table used to house a landline, a framed photo of a woman Wireface assumed to be the homeowner's wife, and a pack of cigarettes. There was a coat hanger with a blue coat hung from it, and the chair that the cat was currently sitting on.

 

Looking through the rather thin curtains, Wireface could barely make out a silhouette of a person. They looked rather tall…maybe they were related to Esenin. Wireface giggled to himself. What a rare chance that would be.

 

Right before Sergey exited the bathroom, Wireface noticed the faint smell of chlorine. He huffed out air through his nose to try and rid the smell.

 

“Gsv slfhv hnvooh dvriw.(The house smells weird.)” Wireface complained, ceasing to pet the cat to cover up his nose.

 

“Rg'h y-yovzxs. Gsv slnvldmvi xovzmvw gsv s-slfhv vziorvi.(It's b-bleach. The homeowner cleaned the h-house earlier.)” Sergey rubs his hands up and down on his pant legs. They darken from whatever was on his hands.

 

“Ls.(Oh.)”

 

Wireface picked at the soft scabs adorning his mouth as Sergey looked towards the cat.

 

Wireface watched in silent amusement as Sergey quickly shuffled away as Naperdish approached the cold man.

 

“Go, shoo s-shoo.” Sergey attempted to push the cat away with his leg, but instead of taking the hint, the cat began to claw at the man's pant leg.

 

The cat was drug back and forth as Sergey tried to free it from his pants. Wireface covered his mouth to stifle his giggles.

 

Coming to the rescue once more, Wireface walks over and picks up Naperdish. He frees its claws from Sergey’s poor pants.

 

Wireface cuddled the cat close to his chest, scratching behind its ears.

 

Looking up from his coddling to the fat cat, Sergey was scowling at the cat. When he noticed Wireface was watching he steeled his expression.

 

Wireface snorted. He dropped the cat gently, patting its back to get it moving away from Sergey.

 

As Wireface watched Naperdish trot away, he felt an ice-cold hand slowly slip around his wrist. He darted his hand away quick from the initial sting of the cold.

 

“H-hliib…wrwmg nvzm gl..hgzigov b-blf.(S-sorry…didnt mean to..startle y-you.)” Sergey apologized, shrinking into his scarf from Wireface’s bewildered look.

 

"Dsb wrw blf...? Mvevinrmw. Wrw blf dzmg gl svzw yzxp gl gsv orermt illn mld?(Why did you...? Nevermind. Did you want to head back to the living room now?)" Wireface asked.

 

Sergey looked down the hallway before he looked back to the entrance, “"Ml. Rg hnvooh o-orpv yvvi zmw d-dvvw. R d-dzmg gl tl l-lfghrwv. R-R dzmg ui-uivhs zri. Zmw z xrtzivggv. Blf’iv gsv l-lmob lmv sviv gszg hvvnh hzmv v-v-vmlfts gl xlnv drgs n-nv.(No. It smells l-like beer and w-weed. I w-want to go o-outside. I-I want fr-fresh air. And a cigarette. You’re the o-only one here that seems sane e-e-enough to come with m-me.)"

 

“Fts, bvzs, tllw rwvz. Yfg dszg ru–(Ugh, yeah, good idea. But what if–)”

 

“Gsv slnvldmvi dlm’g mlgrxv, sv’h uzhg z-zhovvk rm srh i-illn. Zmw erhrglih d-dlm’g yv z k-kilyovn. Ru dv hvv z-z-zmb dv’oo svzw yzxp rmhrwv.(The homeowner won’t notice, he’s fast a-asleep in his r-room. And visitors w-won’t be a p-problem. If we see a-a-any we’ll head back inside.)” Sergey cut him off, looking up at the taller man with half-lidded eyes. He looked sleepy.

 

“R wlm’g pmld, gsrh hvvnh prmwz irhpb…(I don’t know, this seems kinda risky…)” Wireface crossed his arms, looking back to the window.

 

“X-x-xlnv lm, R w-wlm’g dzmmz yv zolmv.(C-c-come on, I d-don’t wanna be alone.)” Sergey whined a bit, surprising Wireface. He had almost forgotten the other was tipsy.

 

Wireface thought it over. On one hand, he didn’t really want to risk getting caught by visitors or those men in yellow suits, and he’d worry that the homeowner would panic about where they went. On the other hand, he didn’t want Sergey to go out alone. He could be attacked, either by the monsters or FEMA.

 

Wireface bit his lip.

 

“Lpzb, lpzb…ovg'h tl.(Okay, okay…let's go.)” Sergey smiled slightly in return. A small victory, Wireface thought.

 

Before the two exited the house, Sergey stopped and spun on his heel.

 

“R szw zonlhg ulitlggvm.(I had almost forgotten.)” Sergey muttered as walked over to the end table by the window. He nabbed the cigarette pack off of the table, stuffing it into his coat pocket.

 

“Blf'iv qfhg tlrmt gl gzpv gsvn?(You're just going to take them?)” Wireface commented, rubbing his arm with his other nervously.

 

“B-bvzs, R o-o-ovug zoo nb x-xrth zg nb l-low slfhv.(Y-yeah, I l-l-left all my c-cigs at my o-old house.)” Sergey answered, opening the door and stepping to the side to allow room for Wireface.

 

Wireface eyed him, stepping out and looking around the wood on the porch. It looked worn, old. Like termites got to it a while ago. Wireface felt uneasy as it creaked under his feet.

 

He heard the door shut behind him, feet shuffling and eventually stopping next to him.

 

Out of his peripheral he could see Sergey pluck a cig out of the pack and light it with a black-colored lighter. Sergey offered him one. Wireface declined.

 

“Hl, wl blf fhfzoob wirmp?(So, do you usually drink?)” Wireface asked. He watched Sergey sit on one of the porch steps.

 

“Ml, mvevi ivzoob lmv gl w-wirmp.(No, never really one to d-drink,)” Sergey replied, letting out a puff of nicotine smoke. It curled and disappeared quickly, “Gsv gzhgv dzh zodzbh gll tizrmb.(The taste was always too grainy.)”

 

“Gsvm dsb’w blf szev urev yvvih?(Then why’d you have five beers?)” Wireface implored, leaning against the support beam of the porch. He watched as Sergey turned halfway to look up at him.

 

“Mvvwvw z w-wrhgizxgrlm uiln gsv x-x-xfiivmg svoohxzkv gszg g-sv dliow rh.(Needed a d-distraction from the c-c-current hellscape that t-he world is.)” Sergey answered, his gaze moved to the cloudy night sky.

 

Wireface hummed in response, going back to the wood of the porch. He supposed Sergey was right. They didn’t know when the sun was going to go back to normal, if at all. It could even get worse, for all they know. The house going up in flames, the people inside burning to a crisp.

 

The visitors were a whole different problem, looking almost exactly like a normal human. What a laugh.

 

Wireface’s eyes trailed to the sitting man. He briefly wondered if Sergey was a visitor, but quickly shook the thought out of his head.

 

Wireface rotated his body against the beam, feeling the ridges of the wood against his back. He brought his hand up to twirl a purple curl. He stretched it out to observe it.

 

The dye was beginning to fade, blending in with his natural hair color. Wireface sighed.

 

“Wl blf pmld ru gsvb hvoo szri wbv lm gszg wvorevib hvierxv gsv slnvldmvi liwvih uiln?(Do you know if they sell hair dye on that delivery service the homeowner orders from?)” Wireface looked down to Sergey, almost jumping when he turned to see Sergey already looking up at him.

 

Did his eyes look bigger…?

 

Sergey blinked and his pupils looked their normal size. Huh.

 

Wireface must just be tired. He rubbed his eyes as he looked up to the sky. The moon looked unnaturally bright.

 

“Nliv g-gszm orpvob ml. R gsrmp r-rg’h qfhg z ullw wvorevib hvierxv.(More t-than likely no. I think i-it’s just a food delivery service.)” Sergey replied. Wireface could feel Sergey’s eyes on him. He continued to look up.

 

It was silent for a moment, the only sounds being the ambient noises of the night and a dog barking in the distance.

 

Sergey’s airy chuckle broke through it, “Kivggb hfiv R rmszovw vmlfts hvxlmw szmw hnlpv gl yv xlmhrwvivw srts.(Pretty sure I inhaled enough second hand smoke to be considered high.)”

 

Wireface looked down, eyes widening. Sergey was looking back down, smoke surrounding him now.

 

“ Wrw blf zxgfzoob?(Did you actually?)” Wireface asks.

 

Sergey spun his head around again. His usual deadpan face greeted Wireface.

 

“ Ml. Gszg dzh z qlpv.(No. That was a joke.)” He says.

 

“Fl.)Oh.)”Well now Wireface felt like a fool. God, looking back at what he said it was said in a joking way.

 

“ R pmld. R’n srozirlfh(I know. I’m hilarious,)” Sergey faced forward and puffed out smoke. It swirled and faded into nothingness. He looked down to his nails, “ Rh dvvw ovtzo rm Tvlitrz?(Is weed legal in Georgia?)”

 

“ Fs…ml. Rg’h yzmmvw.(Uh…no. It’s banned.)” Wireface looked off to the side. The wind picks up, rusting sparse grass in front of the house.

 

“Zs. Hznv gsrmt tlvh uli sviv.(Ah. Same thing goes for here.)” Sergey takes one last puff before he snuffs it out on the porch step. He pops open the pack to pick out another one.

 

“Nzpv hfiv mlg gl hnlpv gszg dslov gsrmt, R'n hfiv gsv slnvldmvi dlfowm'g yv gll szkkb ru sv szw gl liwvi z mvd lmv.(Make sure not to smoke that whole thing, I'm sure the homeowner wouldn't be too happy if he had to order a new one.)” Wireface smiles down at Sergey when he turns with a pout.

 

“R-R'n mlg, qfhg z uvd.(I-I'm not, just a few.)” Sergey murmured, shoving the pack back into his pocket.

 

“Z uvd?(A few?)” Wireface implored, tone teasing.

 

“O-o-ovzev nv zolmv, R-R s-szevm'g yvvm zyov gl h-hnlpv rm z dsrov.(L-l-leave me alone, I-I h-haven't been able to s-smoke in a while.)”

 

The sound of the lighter flickering to life sounded loud after Sergey finished speaking. Wireface looked back to the ground. The grass had stopped moving.

 

Wireface went to sit beside Sergey, kicking his feet out and wincing at how noisy his shoes hitting the wood sounded. Sergey tensed next to him.

 

Wireface leaned against his arms, resting behind him and holding up his weight. The wind started again. It was hot yet relieving at the same time.

 

Wireface breathed in the humid air.

 

“Dsl wl blf gsrmp sviv rh z erhrgli?(Who do you think here is a visitor?)” He suddenly blurted out, his thoughts from only moments ago resurfacing. His canine bit the side of his mouth as Sergey paused mid-puff.

 

“R-R’w izgsvi m-m-mlg gsrmp zylfg gszg…(I-I’d rather n-n-not think about that…)”

 

Smart, Wireface reasoned. Thinking too much about that sort of thing would just cause more paranoia to the mass-hysteria they were already dealing with.

 

Wireface’s eyes followed a rouge ant, crawling around with a small leaf.

 

He heard Sergey stand. Then feet shuffling against the ground, dirt and pebbles moving. The gravel leading up to the porch sounded like they were being moved under dragging feet.

 

A hard ‘umph’ was heard.

 

Wireface looked over to see Sergey face first in the grass. The moon was uncovered by clouds, its light shining down on the spot Sergey had fallen. His body was sprawled out almost uncomfortably, and it almost looked like he wasn’t breathing.

 

It looked a bit like a movie scene, Wireface thought. A corpse lain in the moonlight, abandoned and left for anyone to see. Serene, almost. Tranquil in a way that had a looming sense of dread.

 

Wireface snorted as Sergey huffed and dirt went flying. His head turned to the side, hair tussling. Now he really needed to wash it.

 

The heavy sigh he let out felt calming. Wireface looked back to the sky. It’s brightness could compete with a lamppost.

 

Wireface continued to stare at it as he laid down uncomfortably against the stairs. One of the steps dug into his back, but he felt too tired to move.

 

“R dlmwvi dszg Tvlitrz’h tlrmt gsilfts, ru rg’h gsv hznv zh sviv…(I wonder what Georgia’s going through, if it’s the same as here…)” Wireface’s eyes began to sting as he thought about his home country. He sighed again, shutting his eyes and digging palms into his sockets.

 

Wireface heard the rusting of Sergey’s many layers, shuffling against each other.

 

There was a long pause where neither of them spoke, but Sergey broke the silence again, “D-dszg rh Tvlitrz orpv? R'ev m-mvevi tlmv…(W-what is Georgia like? I've n-never gone…)

 

“Ivzoob? Yfg blf hkvzp..(Really? But you speak..)” Wireface sat up on his elbows, raising an eyebrow at the other.

 

“R h-hkvzp Vmtorhs gll, wl blf gsrmp R'ev t-tlmv gl Znvirxz?(I s-speak English too, do you think I've g-gone to America?)” Sergey moved to sit on his legs, his shoulders and back slouched. His hair was dropped over his face, the moonlight glistened in his eyes.

 

“Uzri klrmg,(Fair point,)” Wireface settled himself upright, one leg coming up, “Tvlitrz'h yvzfgrufo, R gsrmp blf'w orpv rg gsviv.(Georgia's beautiful, I think you'd like it there.)”

 

“Sn...R-R-R'ev ollpvw fk kslglh yvuliv, r-rg hvvnh orpv r-rg'w yv z mrxv kozxv gl h-hgzb.(Hm...I-I-I've looked up photos before, i-it seems like i-it'd be a nice place to s-stay.)” Sergey shivered hard mid-sentence, curling his arms around himself securely.

 

Wireface tilted his head at him, realizing that Sergey had still been shivering the entire time they were outside, even though it was stained warm from the sun. Wireface began to giggle in disbelief.

 

It caught the others' attention, looking over.

 

“Sn? D-dszg'h hl ufmmb?(Hm? W-what's so funny?)”

 

“Mlgsrmt, rg'h qfhg,(Nothing, it's just,)” Wireface waved his hand around in the air, “Dvoo blf'iv hgroo hsrevirmt vevm gslfts dv'iv lfghrwv. Rg'h orpv, dszg, 30 wvtivvh Xvohrfh lfg sviv,zmw blf'iv HGROO xlow?!(Well you're still shivering even though we're outside. It's like, what, 30 degrees Celsius out here,and you're STILL cold?!)”

 

“Rg w-wlvhm'g nzggvi sld slg rg rh, R-R'oo h-hgroo yv xlow…(It d-doesn't matter how hot it is, I-I'll s-still be cold…)” Sergey turned back to infront of him, holding onto his arms firmly, rubbing up and down, “Nfxs orpv n-nb xolgsvh, gsv hfm w-wlvhm'g svok.(Much like m-my clothes, the sun d-doesn't help.)”

 

That…didn’t make much sense. How on Earth was he still cold? Having six layers on, sitting out in the open with hot humid air brushing against them every now and then.

 

Wireface hummed and looked off into the distance.

 

“Hl, Blf hzrw blf dzmgvw gl hsld nv hlnvgsrmt?(So, You said you wanted to show me something?)” Wireface changed the subject, remembering Sergey’s request from yesterday.

 

He now realized they didn’t go back to the closet. It was probably for the best, Natacha was probably passed out in the closet again.

 

“Ls, i-irtsg.(Oh, r-right.)” Sergey’s head snapped straight, wavering slightly. He began to stand, tripping over his own feet as he tried to balance himself out.

 

When he finally fixed his posture, he strolled over to where Wireface sat. Wireface sat up, stretching out his sore back. He cracked his neck as Sergey plopped himself down next to him.

 

Sergey pulled something from his pocket; a square piece of paper-like material that looked like it had seen better days. He unfolded it with extreme care, smoothing it out before turning it to face Wireface.

 

Wireface leaned forward to look at it clearly in the dark light.

 

It was a group photo with Sergey to the far right. His skin appeared to be healthier, his hair shorter and black, showing off his gauges. He was smiling wide, eyes squished from the pressure. Sergey looked to have a bit of makeup on, dark circles around his eyes and a tint to his lips. He was wearing a fur coat with a dark blue turtleneck accompanied by ripped jeans. Sergey’s arms were wrapped around a person's shoulders, theirs in turn around his. Snow was gathered around their feet. After observing the contents of the photo, he noticed writing at the bottom.

 

“Dszg wlvh rg hzb?(What does it say?)”

 

“‘H-hmldvw rm.’(‘S-snowed in.’)” Sergey replied, turning the photo back to face himself.

 

They both settled into another long pause, silent while Sergey traced the photo.

 

Wireface looked up to the sky, altostratus clouds crowding the starry night. The inconsistent wind was picked up again, warm and pleasant. A few of Wireface’s curls blew in his face, so he tucked them behind his ears.

 

Sergey’s voice broke the peaceful silence once more.

“Rg’h u-u-uifhgizgrmt, gl szev gsv pmldovwtv gszg R pmvd g-gsvn, yfg mlg y-yvrmt zyov gl ivnvnyvi gsvn(It’s f-f-frustrating, to have the knowledge that I knew t-them, but not b-being able to remember them.)” Sergey’s gaze was tender, his fingers brushing over the subjects of the photo. His lip tremored in tandem with his shoulders shivering.

 

His shaky hand glided over the old polaroid, fingers seeming to lingering on one particular person.

 

“Wl blf szev znmvhrz?(Do you have amnesia?)” Wireface suggested, observing the worn creases on the picture.

 

“M-ml, R wlm'g gsrmp hl. R xzm ivnvnyvi nb kzivmgh, g-g-gsvri uzxvh ziv xibhgzo x-xovzi.(N-no, I don't think so. I can remember my parents, t-t-their faces are crystal c-clear.)” Sergey’s eyes narrowed, fingers crinkling the edges of the photo, “R qfhg...wlm'g ivnvnyvi gsvn…(I just… don’t remember them…)”

 

Sergey's face soured, blinking slowly. A pout appeared on his lips. That seemed to happen a lot.

 

Wireface looked away, running his hand through his hair. He scratched at his scalp, changing the subject.

 

“Blf ollp,(You look,)” Wireface gestured to the photo, “Nfxs wruuvivmg gszm blf wl mld.(Much different than you do now.)”

 

“B-bvh, R dzh nliv r-rmgl gsv...zo-zogvimzgrev hgbov...blf xlfow hzb.(Y-yes, I was more i-into the...al-alternative style...you could say.)”

 

Sergey huffed out a laugh, twirling a lock of his dark hair between his fingers. He curled his legs up to his chest, folding the polaroid neatly and putting it safely into his coat pocket. Not the same one as the cigarettes, Wireface noted.

 

“Dszg xszmtvw?(What changed?)” Wireface asked.

 

“R xslhv x-xlnulig levi hgbov. Rg u-uvog orpv z szhhov gl kfg lm hl nzmb zxxvhhlirvh dsvm R'n hsrevirmt hl sziw R mvziob wilk v-vevibgsrmt.(I chose c-comfort over style. It f-felt like a hassle to put on so many accessories when I'm shivering so hard I nearly drop e-everything.)” Sergey ran his hand over his coat, going to play with the strings of Wireface’s sweater that he was still wearing.

 

“Zs, R hvv. Z olg vzhrvi gl hork lm hrc wruuvivmg ozbvih gszm ulfi, irtsg?(Ah, I see. A lot easier to slip on six different layers than four, right?)” Wireface teased, resting his weight on one arm, a smirk splaying across his lips.

 

“Ls hs-hsfg fk, blf pmld dszg R nvzm.(Oh sh-shut up, you know what I mean.)” Sergey scoffed laid back against the porch steps. Wireface followed him.

 

They fell back into quiet. It was Sergey’s turn to look upward, his eyes grazing over the covered sky. His hands fell to the porch steps, fingers digging into the dry wood. One of Sergey’s legs stretched out, the other leg swaying back and forth.

 

Wireface turned his head and stared. He watched Sergey’s hair move, unwashed strings blowing in the gentle wind.

 

Sergey’s mouth was slightly open, visible white teeth chattering. His quivering shook his coat, its fabric making a swishing sound as it shifted.

 

Sergey turned around, his body twisting half way as he looked over to the entrance to the house.

 

“Dv hslfow kilyzyob svzw yzxp rmhrwv yvuliv gsv h-h-hfm irhvh.(We should probably head back inside before the s-s-sun rises.)” Sergey commented, his eyes tracing the light emanating from under the door.

 

“Li b'pmld, hlnv erhrglih li gslhv FEMA zhhslovh urmw fh?(Or y'know, some visitors or those FEMA assholes find us?)” Wireface added.

 

“Ls b-bvzs, gszg gll.(Oh y-yeah, that too.)” Sergey nonchalantly agreed, his eyes meeting Wireface’s.

 

Wireface rolled his as he stood. Sergey went to follow, but he lost his balance halfway. Wireface caught him, holding him up by his armpits.

 

Helping the once again unbalanced Sergey up, Wireface looked out into the distance.

 

There was a figure walking towards them, startling close. Wireface must have been so wrapped up in the silence with Sergey he didn’t notice.

 

Wireface went to tap on Sergey’s shoulder to draw his attention to the approaching man, but he noticed the man's attire.

 

He had a green satchel around his middle with blue gloves, and a striking yellow suit that stood out in the moonlight. A very specific yellow suit.

 

Wireface felt the hairs on his neck stand up.

 

The man got notice of the two, waving over to them, his blue gloves a blur. He picked up his pace, and Wireface went into fight or flight.

 

His body chose flight.

 

Wireface jerked Sergey by his shoulders, thrusting the others body towards the house. Sergey let out a small yelp, caught off guard by the sudden movement.

 

Wireface’s only focus was on getting the two of them inside, desperate to flee from the FEMA employee. He heard the employee’s feet hit the ground behind the two of them.

 

“Hey, wait!” The man yelled, his boots trying to reach them quickly.

 

It wasn’t long until the two guests reached the door, Wireface kicking it open as he shoved Sergey rather heavily into the house.

 

“Is it the suit? I swear I’m not with FEMA!” The man called out. All Wireface understood was ‘FEMA’.

 

His lips tingled with remembrance.

 

Wireface quickly entered the house, 360’d on his heels to reach the door in time to slam it. While slamming the door shut, Wireface caught a glimpse of the FEMA agent's face.

 

His back hit the door, his chest heaving. Sergey turned to face him, a bit of a glare present on his face. It shot a pane of guilt into Wireface’s already tight chest.

 

“Q-Qvhfh Xsirhg, dszg dzh gszg z–(J-Jesus Christ, what was that a–)"

 

The homeowner’s voice interrupted Sergey’s questioning.

 

Thank God.

 

The homeowner’s shoes stomped against the floor as he approached the pair. He began to question them, mostly focusing on Sergey.

 

Wireface slipped past the both of them as Sergey began to speak. The house still reeked of bleach.

 

Wireface stumbled to the closet, opening and slamming the door shut before he crumpled to the floor and held his hands to his neck. He didn’t even notice the passed out Natacha.

 

God he hoped that FEMA agent didn’t want to take shelter in the homeowner’s house. Being stuck in the same space as someone who sewed his mouth shut, whether he did it or not, was something Wireface begged didn’t happen.

 

He felt his breathing quicken. His nails began to dig into his neck. He felt his vision tunnel. It began to feel harder and harder to keep himself up and steady, so he caved in and fell into the shelves.

 

The sudden momentum of his crash shifted the boxes, one slipping off the edge it was laid on. It made its descent to the floor, but instead of hitting hard wood, it hit Wireface’s skull.

 

The pain was almost instant, the box falling onto the floor next to his head. His eyes slide shut, his hands going up lazily to his head, feeling a pain etching at the back of it.

 

And just like that, Wireface slipped into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Pain is what first greeted Wireface when he woke up.

 

He groaned at the searing pain, sliding his hand between his curly locks. Wireface winced as his palm made contact with a sizable bump.

 

He swore as he peeled his eyes open, the light from the closet feeling like pokes directly into his eyeballs. Wireface shut them quickly and covered them with his hands.

 

Wireface felt around the ground where he lay. He stopped when his hand abruptly hit a box.

 

His fingers ran over the cardboard texture, slipping at one point. Weird, it felt like his hand didn’t want to cooperate.

 

Wireface jumped when a hand suddenly rested on his shoulder. Wireface bit his lip to stifle his noises as his neck radiated pain.

 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you…Haha…”

 

It was Natacha. Wireface parted his fingers and slowly opened his eyes.

 

She looked blurry and bright, his eyes squinted to try and dim her.

 

“Dzsg?(What?)” Wireface sighed out, gingerly raising himself to a sitting position. His head ached with each movement.

 

“Oh, um..I asked if you were alright.” Her voice felt like it was grating on his eardrums. Wireface moaned in annoyance. He brought his hands up to cover his ears.

 

At least, he tried to.

 

Instead of covering Wireface’s ears like he wanted them to, they fell flat and instead slapped against the sides of his head.

 

Wireface yelped out at the pain from the slaps. He moved to curl in on himself, but he moved too fast.

 

A wave of nausea made itself present, and his tongue gathered saliva.

 

Wireface bit on the inside of his cheek. What the hell was this? He wasn’t sick, nobody in the house was ill. That he knew of at least.

 

Wireface began to stand. His hands fumbled against the shelves and boxes. The pain from his neck and head caused tears to well up, blurring his vision further.

 

Natacha’s fingers brushed against his shoulder before he rolled his shoulders. He didn’t want her to touch him.

 

GOD his head was pounding.

 

Wireface shut his eyes as his hands ran against the shelves, then the wall, then the closet door. He opened it and let it hit the shelves like the past two days.

 

His feet moved sluggishly to the bathroom. His footsteps felt uneven and lopsided. Wireface’s head slanted to the side, neck feeling unable to keep his skull upright. It only fueled his upset stomach.

 

Wireface hoped the homeowner had some sort of painkillers as his hand lazily made contact with the bathroom door.

 

“Tzs, ufxp!(Gah, fuck!)” Wireface shouted out as he shielded his eyes from the harsh light of the bathroom. The smell of bleach and disinfectant in the room felt overwhelmingly nauseating.

 

“Ls. Svool.(Oh. Hello.)” Wireface hears Sergey’s voice cut through the fog of his brain.

 

Wireface tries to look up as much as he can without upsetting his head, “Fts. Sr.(Ugh. Hi.)”

 

Wireface’s eyes opened again, narrowing as he tried to adjust them to the light. It didn’t seem to work.

 

His sigh morphed into a groan as he walked to the sink.

 

Wireface’s head leaned forward as his eyes drifted shut. His forehead felt heavy.

 

Not looking where he was going, Wireface bumped into Alexei.

 

Lifting his head up, Wireface apologized, “Ls, R'n hliib. R wrwm'g hvv blf.(Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you.)”

 

Wireface barely heard the stoner’s reply. He sounded oddly far away. Wireface reached out and touched Alexei’s arm.

 

“Uh..hey man, you good?” Alexei’s voice sounded just as irritating as Natacha’s.

 

Wireface moved his head to the side as something started to press against him.

 

It was Sergey’s hand. It felt just as cold as it did yesterday night. Wireface grumbled from the temperature and leaned away.

 

“You don’t have a f-fever…” Sergey muttered. His voice sounded muddled, like it was ran through mud.

 

What the hell was going on with him?

 

Wireface reached his hands out again. Skin met porcelain.

 

Wireface opened his eyes just a smidge. He caught his reflection in the mirror before his hands slid against the medicine cabinet. He looked like shit. Wireface sighed again.

 

Wireface’s hands listlessly moved about the shelves of the medicine cabinet. The sound of bottles and cardboard boxes falling sounded miles away.

 

A cold hand wrapped itself around Wireface’s wrist, ceasing his movements.

 

Making sure not to look down too quickly, Wireface gave a disoriented glare down to Sergey. He was met with an equally confused look.

 

“D-dszg ziv blf wl-wlrmt?(W-what are you do-doing?)” Wireface winced at how suddenly loud the others voice was.

 

It took Wireface a moment to reply.

 

“Fs, R xznv sviv uli...kzrm..proovih.(Uh, I came here for...pain..killers.)” Wireface uttered, tired eyes trailing the blurred skin.

 

“Kzrm proovih? Z-ziv b-blf sfig? Dszg s-szkkvmvw?(Pain killers? A-are y-you hurt? What h-happened?)”

 

“R…(I…)” Wireface trailed off as he tried to recall what did happen. He was in pain, that much as obvious.

 

As Wireface tried to remember, Sergey’s hand rose and brushed against his head. Wireface hissed when the others fingertips immediately found the noticeable bump.

 

“Qvhfh...wrw b-b-blf srg blfi s-s-svzw?(Jesus...did y-y-you hit your h-h-head?)”

 

When Sergey’s question registered, Wireface remembered. A box hit him over the head last night.

 

“Z ylc–(A box–)” Wireface cut himself off as he bit his lips hard. He spun his head too quickly. A swirling feeling made itself known as his stomach did flips.

 

Wireface continued speaking after a moment to calm himself. Sergey waited patiently.

 

“Z ylc. Srg nv lm nb svzw.(A box. Hit me on my head.)”

 

“Lmv lu gsv lmvh rm gsv xolhvg?(One of the ones in the closet?)” Wireface slowly nodded his head, eyes screwing shut.

 

“What happened?” Alexei asked, going to sit on the edge of the tub.

 

“He hit his h-head.” Sergey answered. He moved to the mirror cabinet. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he crouched down and sifted through the fallen aid.

 

Sergey picked up a bottle, unscrewing it and popping out a few pills. He held them in a clenched hand, starting to walk to the exit.

 

“Dzrg sviv.(Wait here.)” Sergey told Wireface over his shoulder, quickly exiting the bathroom.

 

And Wireface did. Not like he wanted to move much. He leaned against the cold sink. The small of his back against the surface of the sink.

 

He shut his eyes, feeling that pull of fatigue at the back of his eyes.

 

The door to the bathroom re-opened, Wireface looked up at the sound. Instead of the expected Sergey, it was instead a tall man, probably only a few inches shorter than Wireface himself.

 

Through his doubled vision, Wireface’s eyes trailed down the man.

 

Hair in a bun, bunchy eyebrows, yellow suit, green satchel–

 

Wireface stopped short. Yellow suit.

 

Yellow suit. Same yellow as FEMA. Same yellow as the man’s from yesterday's outfit. Yellow. FEMA. FEMA yellow.

 

Wireface’s eyebrows furrowed and eyes widened despite the pain.

 

The man locked eyes with him, his hand keeping the door propped open.

 

“Oh, it’s you.” Wireface didn’t understand a word the other man said. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to understand.

 

Wireface swallowed thickly. His collected saliva felt like lead. His blinks felt labored, breathing picking up.

 

Before he could completely spiral and flee like yesterday, Sergey came back. He shuffled past the FEMA agent, holding a glass of water.

 

He approached Wireface holding out the glass and 2 pills with shaking hands.

 

“G-gzpv gsvhv.(T-take these.)” Sergey instructed him. When Wireface didn’t acknowledge the cold man, Sergey looked to where Wireface was staring.

 

Sergey raised an eyebrow slightly between the two. The man in the FEMA suit shifted a bit against the tiles, his eyes akwardly darting around Wireface’s frame.

 

Sergey turned back to Wireface, standing on his tip-toes to whisper in Wireface’s ear.

 

“W-wl blf g-g-gdl pmld vzxs lgsvi?(D-do you t-t-two know each other?)”

Chapter Text

Hello! Sorry that this isn’t a new chapter, I’m still working on it!

Work has been kinda crazy so I’ve been busy with that, which is why updates are far and few between —_—

I wanted to ask if y’all have requests you’d want to see in this fic? Such as characters, scenarios, ect.

I would probably take them into account and it will help my overall story becuase this is my first time writing a fic(let alone a long one).

Please comment and let me know!! I’ll try to update soon.

Chapter Text

I ALMOST FORGOT!!

I have made a playlist for this fic! As well as made Coat Guy and Wireface their respective playlists.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0xBjINIqXNqRY4JMzullkh?si=JzPZAihzRNiVwlHx4KwLYQ&pi=UPmUUB1yRq-kM

It’s currently a work in progress, as are the other playlists. If you have any song recommendations for this fic let me know!

Don’t be shy to comment, I love any and all comments ♥️

LAST AUTHORS NOTE I SWEAR!!!