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“…Ben?” Joel called out tentatively, taking another uneasy step into the room that was once his and Ben’s shared bedroom. Weird fleshy vines spread out across the floor of apartment 32, running up the walls and to the ceiling. They stuck to Joel’s shoe when he stepped on them and made uncomfortably wet-sounding crunch noises.
But it was okay, because Benjamin could never be disgusting to Joel. Even a year ago, when Ben was all sick, Joel still hugged him when he cried. Even though mom said not to, and even though Joel had gotten sick from doing that. It was okay though, because at least Ben had been feeling better.
Joel hoped Ben was feeling better now, too.
He anxiously tugged at one of Fuzzy’s ear as he walked, holding onto the stuffed bear suffocatingly tight to the point where its beady black button eyes were starting to bulge out. Fuzzy was delicate, having been torn apart and healed over and over. His friend stared up at him, but Joel didn’t have it in him to release his grip. Fuzzy was reassuring, comforting when nothing else was
He was visiting his family in their apartment. Most of the building had been knocked down by construction guys, but some…what had Mr. Sam called it? Extra-something-nal areas couldn’t be destroyed. Apparently, apartment 32 was one of them. Even though Joel didn’t know what that meant, he still felt relieved.
Relieved. That was what he was feeling.
Joel felt bad that he hadn’t visited in so long, but Joel had been busy ever since the big eye in the sky disappeared. They couldn’t be mad at Joel for that. Right? Right.
Maybe they were. Maybe that’s why mom and dad were…
…
…Why mom and dad hadn’t come back yet.
When Joel first brought up wanting to back to his apartment, Mr. Sam had offered to go with him, saying that it would be much safer with the two of them. But Joel knew Mr. Sam was busy helping out the mutated citizens in the city; Mr. Sam was always so kind, doing his best in assisting reconstruction and offering first aid medical services.
So, Joel had refused, feeling a bit guilty about being a hassle. And besides, Joel knew he needed to get over being scared anyways. There was nothing to be scared of. Even if he didn’t know when his parents would be back, and even though Ben was a tree now. Ben was Ben, if anything, his brother should be scared of him. His new face still frightened himself sometimes when he looked in the mirror.
Mr. Sam agreed, and said he would wait for Joel outside. He said he needed to visit Mr. Lyle, anyways.
Joel tentatively peered around the corner, careful not to touch the fleshy walls of the apartment. Joel couldn’t recognize their room anymore; their closet, beds and toys were all gone. Mounds of teeth and gum sat in their place instead, throbbing and shifting as if breathing. On cue, the countless mouths let out a cacophony of inhales and exhales.
And there Benjamin sat, a few meters away in the middle of the room. Ben hadn’t grown since Joel last saw him, having nowhere else to expand. The tree-like tendrils still snaked their way over the ceiling and floors, connecting with the rest of the apartment. Ben’s feet stayed rooted to the ground, unmoving. The only color in the room that wasn’t red or white was the tiny green dot sitting by one of Ben’s new claws.
The little army guy figure. Joel smiled at it, or at least tried to. His head hurt. It always did nowadays.
The whole room smelled like blood and decay. Horrible moist squelching noises plagued this room more than any other. Joel ignored it.
When Joel approached the mass, it seemed to notice him. Maybe Joel was imagining it, but he thinks Ben perked up a bit.
“Hhh-h-hi Ben.”
Benjamin jolted a bit at the sound of Joel’s voice, his gums quivering slightly. Then only a moment later he suddenly became animate, his long appendages oscillating violently. Almost…excitedly. Like he was waving!
Joel let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t know what he had been worried about. He happily waved back to him. Invigorated, Joel more confidently shuffling over to his brother. “I’m so happy to…hhh…see you, Ben! Look, I brought some comic books! Like I said I would!”
He shifted Fuzzy to one arm in order to shrug off his backpack. He shook the bag upside down; the stack of comics he had brought falling out. A couple snacks landed on the fleshy floor as well; Joel managed to sneak some out from the survivor camp with the help of Sophie. “Most of the Cheetos are broken but…hhh…but they should still be good.”
A toothy tendril reached out to poke at the comic books curiously. Another inspected the snacks. A third, long flagella move over to touch Joel’s face.
Joel froze, trying not to move or flinch away. Because what kind of brother would he be if he flinched at his little brother?
Mom said Joel needed to take care of Ben because he was younger. And Joel had promised he would.
The feeling of the appendage against Joel’s skin was warm and damp. It left a wet patch of saliva on Joel’s face when Ben pulled away.
“Did you brush your teeth, Ben? Mom said we’d get cavities if we didn’t. Though I guess you don’t have toothpaste, haha.”
Ben only quivered a bit in response. Joel didn’t know what his brother was trying to say, but it was okay because he would learn in time.
He could be patient. Dad always said that was a virtue.
Joel stayed there, chatting with Ben for a while. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but more things flowed out of him than he had expected. Joel really had missed this; talking with Ben. Even if his brother couldn’t respond now, it was still nice to talk about things only they knew about.
“Though recently Mr. Sam said something strange,” Joel said quietly, staring at the ground. At some point the teeth lining the ground had begun undulating violently, pulling all of the snacks into the ever-shifting ground and apparently consuming it, bags and all.
“He, hhh, said that I can call him dad if I wanted, haha.” Joel continued quietly. He couldn’t tell what Ben thought of that, the flesh too busy assimilating the snacks into its mass. It got to the point where Joel had to look away.
Either way, Joel didn’t want to admit to his brother that he liked the thought of it. Calling Mr. Sam…that. Because his mouth felt numb and tasted bitter whenever he thought about it. What if dad came back from wherever he went and got mad at him?
Joel hoped dad would come back soon. Would he be upset at Joel for running away from him? He had just been scared, and Mr. Sam had said to stay away.
Joel took a loud, wheezing breath. Joel hated the sound of his breathing; it was raspy and sounded uncomfortably labored. His throat and teeth hurt when he did. The noise grated at his ears.
But it was alright, after all dad had told him when his baby teeth first started falling out that growing up was hard.
Dad had…
‘DiD yOU tAkE hEr AwAY?! DId YoU TaKE hER AwAY!? -’
‘ROOOOOSIE... ROOOOOOOSIE... ROOOOOOOOOSIE...’
…
They weren’t coming back.
They weren’t coming back, and nothing would be the same.
Joel knew this, he had always known this. Deep inside. Even before Mr. Sam had gently sat him down and told him.
So why did his chest hurt so bad?
So why couldn’t he breathe?
The teeth must be growing in his chest; there was no other answer. They were filling his lungs and piercing in his heart. They were going tear him apart, he could feel fresh new sets of teeth pushing out through his skin and neck.
Joel had become mostly numb to it in the months, but now he could feel every single jagged, uneven tooth tearing through his skin trying to burst out.
It hurt, and he needed to brush his teeth. No…no- he didn’t want to die…
Benjamin was reaching for him again. The sound of grinding molars and moist flesh shifting and rippling all around was suddenly loud, too loud. Joel couldn’t stand it and pulled away from the creature. A low gurgle came from the inside of the mass, wherever that was. Joel could swear it sounded sad.
Joel was immediately filled with sharp sense of guilt. His brother shouldn’t be seeing this. He was too young. He was too young.
“I-I gotta go, Ben.” Joel managed to gasp out, staggering to his feet.
He couldn’t look at Ben when he left. He felt sick.
He barely knew where he was going, only that he needed to get out.
He didn’t want to be there anymore; he didn’t want any of this.
Mr. Sam was waiting for him outside the apartment, just as he said he would. He wasn’t looking his way, but Joel seemed to lose himself, and with almost immediately he found himself pressed to the older man’s side.
The man jolted slightly, relaxing a bit when he noticed it was Joel who had grabbed onto him. “Joel? Woah, woah, what happened?”
Mr. Sam’s voice was distant and muffled, like he was speaking through a tunnel. He sounded deeply concerned.
Joel couldn’t respond. He didn’t want to move his mouth, scared all his teeth would fall out if he did. He could feel them quivering. They were the only thing holding his skin together, if they weren’t he would fall apart! He just knew it; he needed to do something-
He jolted slightly when he felt a sturdy arm wrapping around him. Pulling him close and radiating a sense of comfort that was all too familiar. It reminded Joel of the time he had scraped his knee roughhousing with Ben, or when he had lost Fuzzy at the carnival.
Back when everything was okay, and Ben could hold his hand instead of Joel trying not flinch as writhing masses of teeth curled around his wrist. Back when mom and dad could hug him and make him breakfast and tuck him in at night.
Back before his little sister looked outside.
Joel wanted to cry.
“I’m, I’m scared. T-the teeth, they- hhh- they- hhhh- won’t stop I…It hurts-”
Firm fingers landed Joel’s shoulder, making him intake a loud, wheezing breath of air. It was how Joel always breathed, but it sounded wrong; desperate and suffocating. Too many teeth filled his air tracks. Joel could feel every single one quivering as air laboriously flowed through.
He heard Mr. Sam let out a hiss of pain. Despite the guilt Joel still couldn’t find it in himself to pull away.
“Hey, hey, listen to my voice,” Mr. Sam was saying. Joel could barely hear him; his voice was so muffled. There was an odd ringing too, but despite that Joel did his best to obey. “You’re alright, you’re okay. Breathe.”
So, Joel did. Again, and again. Until the ringing quieted down. He could still hear his hundreds and hundreds of teeth grinding against each other, poking holes through Mr. Sam’s shirt.
But it was quieter, manageable.
“You okay?” The adult asked after a moment. Joel didn’t respond, still terrified of his teeth ripping him apart from the inside if he did. He could still feel them, like hard nubs all over his body. But they had stopped growing, he thinks. He didn’t know. He felt sore all over.
He really didn’t want to look.
So instead, he nodded into Mr. Sam’s sweater.
As Joel buried himself in warm fabric and darkness he could almost imagine everything was okay again. He would wake up in bed, next to Ben. There would be the sizzling of saucepans, the jingle of keys as dad left for work. Rosie’s cries, that weren’t and would never be ear-piercing screams of despair, would soon be soothed by mom.
Mr. Sam patted his back.
Joel shuddered.
“Listen Joel. I don’t know if it’s related but I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with that thing I said earlier.” Mr. Sam said, “You can call me whatever you’d like. I did, um, kinda just take you from your home, heh…”
“It’s-hhh-okay…” Joel finally said. His voice was gravelly and sounded pained. “I don’t think my dad’s coming back. Or mom.” He felt tears prickling somewhere in the back of his throat for the first time in months. He used to cry way more, but it was like the last few months had put him in a strange state.
Holes in his memory plagued him, but he had shoved it to the back of his mind. It hurt, so he wouldn’t think about it. It hurt, and he held Fuzzy closer, still.
He could remember Mr. Sam, raising a baseball bat high over his head, looking over his shoulder to plead for Joel to look away. He could remember teeth scattered everywhere. And corpses, one of which lay right outside of what used to be Mr. Sam’s apartment. Joel never ever looked at it.
“I’m sorry Joel.” Joel felt Mr. Sam squeeze his shoulder, carefully avoiding the jagged teeth poking through Joel’s shirt. For a moment Joel didn’t know what Mr. Sam was apologizing for. “It’ll be alright, I promise.”
“Hhh…”
It wouldn’t be alright. But Joel didn’t say anything. It was comforting, and Joel allowed himself to believe it. If only for a moment.
It didn’t really matter who that dead body had belonged to.
“Hey, you wanna go say hi to Lyle with me? I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
“Hh…Okay…”
Joel gently pried himself off of Mr. Sam, who in turn gave him a smile and took his hand. Mr. Sam’s hand felt calloused in Joel’s, having been blistered and hardened by the endless work brought on by the apocalypse.
It was nice to hold and made Joel feel secure. Joel liked it.
Joel really liked Mr. Sam. He felt guilty for hurting him, he should know not to hug people anymore. Mr. Sam never seemed to complain though.
“…Mr. Sam?”
“Hm?”
“Can we come back tomorrow to see Ben? I don’t wanna worry -hhh- him…”
There wasn’t even a second of hesitation. “Of course, Joel. We can even bring him some toys, hm?” Mr. Sam thought about it for a moment before lighting up. “Hey, I have this really retro game boy somewhere I can fish out; we can tackle it together. That sound good?”
Oh.
“Y-yeah, hhh…th-thanks. Um,” Joel swallowed. “…D-dad.”
It felt strange to say. And Joel couldn’t help but feel panic laced with embarrassment when Mr. Sam didn’t respond immediately.
There was a pause, but only a moment. “No problem, son, anytime.” Joel could tell it was as strange for Mr. Sam as it was for him.
But maybe they could get used to it.
“Now come on, let’s get you patched up.”