jo packer 22 constructor

· the reluctant acceptance of something without protest ·

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Aiden’s not sure why, but the part of her that would typically encourage the opposite party to do any and everything out of their comfort zone or to make things more interesting, was not out to play. The part that was, however, put on her game face in the name of taking him down. She always had been competitive when she actually wanted to apply herself, an impromptu pillow fight just so happened to be one of those times. His attempts to pull the pillow from her grasp results in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, making responding to his question all the more difficult. Just as soon as she’s caught her breath enough to speak, she mumbles her reply with another swing at Jo’s head. “What I lack in height, I make up for in strength. Duh!” The bed noticeably shifts in his pursuit of the blanket, which throws her off her game long enough for him to get the jump. Mid-attempt to pull it back over her head, his own pillow smacks into her. She stumbles back, another fit of giggles taking over. “Hey now! Who turned out the lights?”

Moments after she stumbles back, his hands reach out towards her in case she trips over the mess but the delayed reaction is unnecessary. He does his best to steady himself but sways along with his laughter. “Dun. Dun. DUNNN,” his laughter continues but comes to an abrupt stop as the unmistakeable fire of alcohol tracing its way back up introduces itself. “I--” His stomach contracts and Jo backs away quickly. “I don’t feel so--” Again, his stomach contracts, this time more violently, and pushes up its contents in an effort to purge itself. Jo runs out of the room and into the night’s frigid late February temperatures with bare feet and in a thin worn out shirt that does nothing to keep his warmth. Still, he urges himself forward but at the realization that he won’t be making it any further, he clings onto the safety railing of the second floor and leans over to disgorge himself. The liquid flows out mercilessly, his pale skin turning a faint red as he empties out his stomach and watches its content fall down onto the first floor. 

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While drunkenly, Jo’s reaffirmation that she had time to figure herself out was more than enough to actively push the thought from her mind, though she couldn’t help but find herself lingering on the many things that could go wrong in their new world. Not only did they no longer have running water, there was no electric, supplies were beginning to dwindle, and people were only getting more and more comfortable in the newfound dystopia. It felt silly to waste even a second on something as minuscule as her identity, not when she had much more important things to focus on. She sighs as her attention shifts back to him, giggling as his dramatic reaction plays out in front of her. “When have you ever said, and I quote, “oh dear”, Joey?” Aiden’s nose crinkles at the thought, finding that it made him sound even more like the eighty-five year old grandpa he was on the inside. Her hands drop from her face, folding back in her lap. His movements are slow, yet she watches for any signs of retaliation. “Everything? Of what? You?” She mimes gagging, though there’s an undeniable smirk pulling through her feigned disgust. “Have not!” The thought accompanied by his futile attempt at throwing the pillow back at her distracts her long enough for him to get the jump. When the second attempt smacks her in the face, she sits silently glaring at him for a moment before picking it up and taking a swing at his head. “Take–” A huff, then another, only that time at his chest. “that!” 

The idea of walking around entirely naked humors Jo who, in his state, genuinely considers the thought of embarrassing Aiden by stripping entirely of his clothes and laughs but, ultimately, decides it would be inappropriate. Mostly, he would be very cold. The latter seals the deal. It’s the glaring that brings him back to their sudden pillow fight and provokes his laughter. He lifts his arm in defense but the pillow still crashes against his head. “Hey!” He yells out in between laughs before attempting to wrestle the pillow out of her hands. “How are you so tiny and so strong?” He asks before giving up on fighting for the pillow. He reaches for the blanket that had been tucked into his bed, accidentally pulling along part of the mattress with it. With complete disregard of the mess and his bed’s new position, he tosses the blanket over Aiden’s head, then grabs the other pillow and smacks her with it. 

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Rather than speaking, Aiden silently observes his reaction, finding she’s content sitting there watching him smile, imagining things are normal in the word for a fleeting moment. Before everything went to shit, their current situation would have been more along the lines of relaxing at her apartment after a long shift at the station. No matter what time she texted, he’d be there in a flash, and vice versa. Their current situation wasn’t much different, if you ignored the fact that there were lurking zombies outside and that they’d buried his father’s body not even two hours ago. So if anyone deserved an escape, it was definitely him. “Being anything I want to be is difficult when I have no idea who I am.” The smile on her face from Jo referring to her as ‘Supa-dupa-fly’ has yet to leave, and only grows when he calls her Aidykins. She shrugs the entire notion off, an amused chuckle passing her lips as he reveals what he’s intending to do. A large part of her wants to see how the ordeal will play out, but the other pushes her to reach for one of the pillows on his bed and, with minor difficulty, throw it at his retreating figure as he reaches the bathroom door. For a moment she celebrates the fact that she’d actually managed to hit him, thankful for her brief stint as pitcher on their High School softball team, only to snap out of it as she’s reminded of why she did it in the first place. “Oy, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Keep your pants on, Packer!” An attempt to cover her eyes with her hands is made, though her fingers are splayed so she can peak through the cracks. “There’s no way you’re showering, unless you consider standing in there surrounded by nothing but air acleansing experience.”

Jo's eyes crinkle into the droopy manner that they tend to do when he smiles. Without a moment’s hesitation he has already told her, “There’s still plenty of time to figure that one out,” and continued to head in the direction of the bathroom. Whether they really did have plenty of time to figure their selves out -- or well, to do anything really -- was dependent on whether or not a zombie herd chose to tear through their makeshift fence, but a drunk Jo did not consider this. Instead, he stands over the bathroom’s threshold fumbling with his jean’s zipper when he’s hit on the head with a pillow. He places his hand on his head, turning dramatically slow to look at Aiden. Momentary confusion registers on his face before he remembers their current living situation. “Oh!” He places his hand on his hip and another on his lips as though the fact that they're without water is a shocking revelation. “Oh dear,” he mumbles, his thoughts threatening to re-enter their dark reality before his gaze lands on her shielded face and a grin is effortlessly brought forward as he pushes everything else aside. “My pants are still on, you loser. Plus, I thought,” he says as he reaches for the pillow by his feet, “You had seen evverrryythinggg already.” He tosses the pillow back at her but it lands on the bed rather than on her. He returns to where she sits, grabbing another pillow and tossing it at her face without any particular consideration or grace at a much closer distance.

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As soon as she’s certain he’s steadied himself, Aiden settles back into a more comfortable sitting position. Her hands fidget in her lap, folding and unfolding a few times before she busies herself with studying the split-ends of her hair. It’s been months since she last cut it, though it’s long overdue. Him repeating her didn’t garner much attention, not until he said it was her that convinced him. She looks up at him, bewildered, and it takes a moment for her to collect her thoughts, taking care to mull over the situation in her mind before speaking. Jo deciding to learn how to use a gun was a delicate topic, which she recognized even in her presently intoxicated state. “Are you–are you sure? I’m only willing to teach you if you really want to. I don’t want you to feel pressured into it.” Would it make her worry less? Unequivocally. Was she willing to force him into something he wasn’t comfortable with just to make her feel better about leaving him alone? No, no she was not, as difficult as it may be. Chances were he wouldn’t even remember the conversation in the morning, so she wasn’t going to press too hard. She watches him in silence, taking note of the combined mess they’d made of his floor. Articles of clothing were strewn about, the nearly-empty bottle of Whiskey lay forgotten, even the can of soda she’d just drank. When he continues speaking, her eyes flit back up to meet his. Aiden had never thought of herself as badass, but hearing him refer to her as that, and terrifying, and cool, that was really something. She shrugs it off, her immediate attention falling on him comparing her to such a small, unassuming dog. “Oh, c’mon! Why can’t I be an actual Doberman? You aren’t even that much taller than me! I’m just gonna start wearing heeled boots again, that way you can’t tease me!”

A full smile is easily coaxed out of Jo because if there’s one thing he will never stop appreciating, it’s Aiden’s consideration for what he wanted. At times it was strange to be taken so into account when it felt as though half of his other world rarely remembered he had an opinion. “I don’t feel pressured into anything. I’m extremely, extremely anti-pressured right now.” He gave a half-hearted laugh that transitioned into a lingering grin as she complained about the comparison. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing! I just said you’re very cool. Supa-dupa-fly.” He nudges her as though he’s about to change the conversation but the hint of a smile still rests on his lips. “I’ll tell you a secret.” He pauses dramatically, “Everybody has to be quiet,” he places his finger over his lips, his eyes darting around the small suite as if there were more people in the room. He leans in closer to her, his breath heavy with the smell of alcohol when he whispers. “You can be anything you want to be.” He leans back enough to look at her as though he has just revealed the nation’s nuclear launch codes. “But shhhh. They don’t gotta’ know you’re actually a Doberman. Not yet.” Content with having given what he believes is a large dosage of life-changing philosophy, he stretches his arms in the air, the joints at his shoulder cracking when he does. He stands once again, this time slower than the last, and takes cautious steps towards the room’s bathroom, whose purpose was deemed useless the moment water had stopped running. Still, Jo walks crookedly towards it while unbuttoning his pants. “See ya in ten minutes Aidykins. I’m gonna shower.” 

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When the intense look on his face let up by means of a faint smile, her hold on his shoulders slackened, though she did not release him entirely. Aiden begins to shake them, a wide, toothy grin spreading across her face. “Aha! There’s that smile…” She trails off, giving his shoulders another shake. “Well, the start of one.” Is said after the pause, quickly correcting herself. It seemed strange for her to be the one trying to bring him back, when so often it had been the opposite. The fact of the matter was that no matter what, he was stuck with her. Where the thought of him holding her back came into play, she wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Everything was easier with him around – focusing, staying still, using her words rather than her fists, consequently opening up as a result, and even, in some cases, breathing. To say he makes Aiden a better person is one of many undeniable truths in their relationship. Anyone who knew them separately knew they were much better together than apart. Without thinking, she reaches out to wipe the tears from his cheeks with the pad of her thumb. Jo’s continued silence was unnerving. It wasn’t unlike her to try and fill the gaps, but she wasn’t sure just how much of her being her he could handle at the moment, so she decidedly kept her mouth shut. When he does finally speak, she heaves a sigh of relief. “You really tried that, huh?” She teases as he sits back down, ready to offer a hand should he need one to steady himself. “Good call. You can’t even walk, so what made you think I’d have let you hold my gun?” Dragging her teeth across her bottom lip, another brief silence falls between them. It seemed strange that mere hours ago it took convincing to get him to even consider thinking it over, now he was ready to learn. “I though you didn’t want anythin’ to do with weapons? Not that I’m complaining..I’m just surprised. What changed your mind?”

He clutches onto the sheets until he’s confident he won’t tumble down when he lets go. He sits in a slump with his back arched into a bad posture. “What changed my mind,” he repeats, seemingly lost in thought but really only wondering where he had left his flashlight. “You,” he replies. He turns to look at her,  “You’re most persuasive when you’re not trying to be, you know?” He adds with a small smile before pulling at his long sleeve from the back of his head until he manages to remove it and tosses it across the room. “If it’ll make you worry less, I’ll learn how to use one.. Plussss,” he stretches the word obnoxiously, “I’m sure you look badass with a gun, as you tend to do with most things, which is really not fair, because a person of your stature should not look that terrifying and cool nearly all the time.” He pauses but quickly continues and shoots her a smirk, “Not to me, though. The terrifying part, I mean. You’re more of a...” His voice draws on as he thinks. Even while drunk, he knows to consider his words, but the alcohol in his veins can’t help but make him want to provoke Aiden. (The wanting to annoy Aiden was always present, regardless of what he had consumed that day, but the actual process of taunting her, was one best done after drinks.) “Miniature Pinscher, you know those doberman looking things? Notice I’m not saying Chihuaha. A Pinscher, a really cute one. The kind where, if you bite me, it’ll hurt, but I’m probably not going to die.”

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Aiden can tell, even without meaning to, that she’s upset him, judging by his silence alone. It hadn’t been her intention to, but like with everyone else, she’d managed to just by opening her mouth. They were having a good time right up until she’d said anything, letting things get too serious. That was the problem in most of her relationships, either she said too much or not enough, there was never a middle ground. Conditioning herself into an indifferent silence at a young age just so happened to make up for that. Just as soon as he apologises the second time, Aiden struggles to sit upright. It all happens so quickly that her lack of balance nearly sends her toppling off the edge of the bed. He hadn’t misunderstood what she meant, but he was wrong. Very, very wrong. After she’s caught herself, she moves into a sitting position in front of him and reaches out to grab his shoulders. “That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, because of course it is.” Their dynamic was unlike most others, given she was the protector and he was the steady hand. It had always worked for them, they both had very different things to bring to the table. Protecting him would always be her responsibility, whether he liked it or not. Some people weren’t meant to be fighters, he just so happened to be one of them. “Never once in your life have you held me back, Joseph. Not a single time. You make..well, you make me better. Calm, rational, happy.” The tears in his eyes are enough to finally send her over the edge, only she pulls herself together once more for his sake. It would, it would, it would, she repeats in her mind like a mantra. He could tell her a million times that it wouldn’t be her fault and she’d never believe him. “Free of what exactly? Maybe I don’t want to be free.”

Jo sat in a stationary position, his frown unyielding as his chin rested on his interwoven fingers. His previous thoughts persisted and continued to be emphasized by the alcohol in his system, but her words got through. Calm. Rational. Happy. The corner of his lip finally gave in, lifting up into less of a slant. As he had told her on repeated occasions, when it came down to it, all that mattered to him was that she was happy. At many times, that was the basis of his actions. He would support whatever she wanted him to, even if it didn’t make him happy, and he didn’t plan on changing that any time soon. He blinks away the tears that had accumulated, his gaze returning to the gun yet again. Free of the burden he thinks, but he remains quiet as he bites the skin around his nails. As foggy as it’s becoming, he thinks of their afternoon. The map, the funeral, the Irish pub -- from all the things they had done it suddenly felt as though Aiden’s arrival had been a week ago, but he wasn’t complaining. His heart ached during their time apart, the uncertainty of it all had made him uneasy... and suddenly he understands. The relief he had felt when her wellbeing was confirmed and the rush it gave him just to be around her knowing he’d even follow her outside the fences should she insist on it -- it was all out of love for her. And her worry, that was all out of love for him. And neither of them could change it for the other, that’s just how it worked. A contemplative exhale is released by Jo who hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. “Ok.” He looks back at her, finally pulling his thumb away from his teeth. “But I changed my mind about the gun. I’ll learn how to use it.” He suddenly stands to go reach for it but wobbles back down onto the bed almost instantaneously. “First thing in the morning.”

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Aiden purposely ignores his comment on his intelligence, not bothering to indulge him on the matter any further. Where he was, at that point, technically her only friend, Jo really was more intelligent than he gave himself credit for. Dismissing it with a roll of her eyes, they narrow when he begins repeating what she’s just said. Then, they widen at his interjection of her being an expert of not knowing what she’s doing. Had it been anyone else making a comment like that, even as a joke, she wouldn’t have reacted so calmly. It wasn’t an incorrect assessment by any means, just one she wasn’t particularly comfortable with other people acknowledging. “That was rude, but I’m willing to overlook it because YOU’RE RIGHT!” In spite of losing her parents and two of her siblings to the end of the world, somehow she’d managed to keep her remaining family very much alive. That was on her and her alone, whether by luck or her natural inclination to survive no matter the cost.

The question tacked on at the end catches her off guard, resulting in her burying her face in the mattress beneath them. The intoxicated, irrational part closes her eyes and puts off responding. After a few moments of silence, Aiden lifts her head and turns it to face him. Her eyes open halfway and there was something sad in the way her lips tried to curve into a smile. “I’d be lying if I said no, Joey. I worry about you all the time.. pretty much constantly.” If anything happened to him, well, there was no telling how she’d react. A very small, selfish part of her liked that he rarely left camp, that he stuck to his group and minded his own business. Where that drove her insane before, it was now a blessing is disguise; at least until he finally caves and lets her teach him survival skills and basic weaponry. “I can’t–I won’t let anything happen to you.”

A quick sorry is mumbled by Jo but he pushes past it. Under normal circumstances he likely would not have said something so direct, but these weren’t normal circumstances and he couldn’t activate the part of his brain that felt shame. Much like a dog, he cocks his head to the side when she buries hers, awaiting patiently for her to reply. Her answer quiets him for a long, silent minute. Jo’s past experience with alcohol has always involved an intense feeling of euphoria, but as he stares at Aiden, all he can feel is severe disappointment in no one other than himself. His eyes begin to water because suddenly all he can think is that he’s become another weight on Aiden’s shoulders for being an idiot who can’t take care of himself. He looks away from her, eyes glued to her gun. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, voice soft when he speaks. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just man up like his father would tell him and finally learn to fend for himself? Instead, he had managed to become an extra burden on Aiden when he should have been the one helping her, like a team. And that belief was the problem. He and Aiden would never truly be a fair team. It could not be 50/50 when Aiden had to fend for the both of them. “It’s not your job to take care of me, you know.” His gaze is still disconnected from hers, his watery eyes betraying the even, light tone with which he speaks. “It never was.” Having not yet healed from his previous episode, his eyes begin to burn. “I can’t let myself hold you back. Not anymore.” He finally looks at her. It’s not her fault he’s angry with himself. “If I’m gone tomorrow, or the day after. It would not be your fault. It would never have been your fault. You’re free Aiden.” 

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Aiden nods at his asking if she wants to hear a secret, listening on with piqued interest. “For being the smartest person I know, you’re kinda dumb, you know that?” With her free hand, she pokes at his shoulder for emphasis. He was happy though, which was all that mattered. “Clearly your smaritcle particles are gone, because on what planet do you have a higher tolerance than me? None! Maybe Pluto.” With both hands now free, she pushes herself up into a sitting position and wrestles with pulling off her sweater. Eventually she wins and another item of hers is added to the growing pile on his floor. “Sorry.” Is mumbled as she flips over onto her stomach and face-plants the mattress. After a few moments she turns to face Jo, eyes wide. “How the hell am I supposed to keep myself, the twins, and Jo alive?” She questions, as if he’s not sitting next to her. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, man.” Her words are slurred but there’s an undeniable truth to them. While sober, a ‘I’ve got shit handled, I don’t need any help’ front is put up for the world, and while it’s true for the most part, even she has her insecurities. “They’re all I have left, dude.”

“For being the smartest person you know, you must not have a lot of smart friends,” he replies almost instantaneously with a grin. Jo certainly could have been seen as intelligent, but he never took the chance to excel in school. There were always other matters that seemed to matter more than studying such as helping his dad with work-related things or dropping everything to go meet Aiden, to a point where school became a second, sometimes third priority. He sported a mix of B minuses throughout high school, mainly because teachers found him to be lovable enough and a combination of in-class work. Homework, however, could have easily led him down a C- path. 

He inches over to the side to allow more space, laughing when she lands on her face but quickly mimics her seriousness. His eyebrows pull together in an upward slant. “Dude,” he interjects after her first question. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, man.” “Dude,” he savors the taste in his mouth while she continues to talk. “They’re all I have left, dude.” “Duuude. Nobody knows what they’re doing.” His hand lands on her shoulder, his eyes blinking repeatedly as he tries to focus on the actual Aiden and not the two other Aidens his mind has formed. “But you haven’t known what you’re doing for most of your life,” he says somewhat brusquely, “Some would say you’re an expert!”  He pauses for a moment before his eyes widen and he yells out, “PLUS! You’ve done it this far. Whatever you’re doing works,” he shakes her shoulder a bit before pulling away, a slow frown overpowering his smile. “Do I make worry you?” 

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Displays of affection weren’t out of the ordinary for them, yet she’s still baffled by the kiss to the back of her hand. A gentle squeeze to his own is her way of reciprocating, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips. “Leave you?” More than anything, she’s taken aback by the insinuation that she’d ever consider leaving him in the first place. Other than the year apart after graduation, when had they gone longer than a few days without seeing one another since meeting? There was no her without Jo, so it had been for nearly a decade. “Don’t be silly!” Is mumbled in reply, her face softening into a grin. With a playful roll of her eyes, she scoots to the side to make more room for him in the bed. His sudden laughter following startles her out of deep thought, pulling a chuckle from her. She thinks to ask what was so funny, only to be torn from her train of thought at the feeling of his fingertips at her side. Aiden inches back next to him, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed at an angle. “I wouldn’t do that. I won’t.” With her head propped up in her palm, she reaches over with her free hand to grab for his. “Ever, so get that thought out of your head.”

His request may be a drunken one, but it reveals one of Jo’s bigger fears: parting ways with Aiden knowing full well he cannot stop her. He lacks the self awareness to be embarrassed so he turns on his side to look at her when she speaks. When he hears what he could only hope for her to say, his face immediately wrinkles up into a new smile and his hand joins hers. “You wanna hear a secret?” He asks with a degree of enthusiasm that continues to reappear. “There’s nothin’ up here right now,” he taps at his head with his free hand, a small chuckle escaping him before he continues, “Well except for you, ‘cause I’m looking at you. So consider the thoughts wiped out. All of ‘em.” He grins at her once more before letting her hand go and propping himself up. “I can’t tell if I’ve lost my smarticle particles because you usually tell me if I have, but you’re just as effed up, I think.” He narrows his eyes, making a show of staring directly into her eyes. “Hmm. Just as I subjected,” he raises his finger, walking over the fact that he meant to say suspected, “I have a stronger tolerance to alcohol than you do.” 

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Aiden had never much cared about the things she put into her body, other than for religious purposes, so the odd combination was hardly off-putting to her. When Jo says no, she makes quick work of chugging the liquid. Just as soon as she’s finished, the can is crushed in her hand and tossed to the other side of the room to be dealt with when she sobered up enough to walk that far. “Are you ok–” she starts, only to be interrupted by his own delayed reaction. Once she’s sure he’s okay, she lets out the laugh she’d been biting back. Muscle memory dictates her starting to stand when she too notices how dark it’s gotten, only to sway on the spot and give up a few seconds later. As if Jo, even while drunk, would let her leave anyways. The question that follows brings a dopey smile to her face. “Hey, hey, hey, no! Don’t cry! I’m still here, see?” Her nose scrunches as she reaches out to press her palm into his. “Told ‘ya!” 

He squints in her direction, a childlike grin taking over his face. He behaves as though he truly believed she had been gone, dramatically placing his free hand over his heart. “Oh!” He replies, the happiness almost palpable in his voice. His fingers fit comfortably in between hers and a very drunk Jo brings her hand to his lips and gives it an emphatic kiss. “Good.” He states, before following it with a lighthearted, “Don’t leave me.”  He uses her hand to guide him back to the origin of his bed, plopping down on his belly right beside her before he lets her go and fully climbs up to the middle of the small bed mumbling incoherent words about pillows. The cold sheets feel good against his skin so he presses his face against it. He hums the tune of You Are My Sunshine contently, bursting into random quiet giggling only once due to the sudden thought of an old meme before he resumes his calm humming. Cheek still pressed against his bed he finds Aiden again, his fingers softly brushing her. With a voice that’s more gone than present he speaks again without looking at her. “Don’t leave me,” he repeats.

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How many times had Aiden rolled her eyes since first arriving there that night? She’d lost count, but so it went most days. Having expected him to crack up immediately, or go straight to calling her an idiot, his silence was surprising to say the least. Her eyes narrow as Jo wiggles his eyebrows at her, just waiting for him to really react. When he stands and walks over to the fridge, she’s somehow even more confused. Was he hungry? What the hell was he doing? It all begins to make sense when he presents his perfectly executed pun. For a moment she does nothing but look on as he cracks up, only to shift her gaze to the can resting on her leg. She reaches out for it, tentatively turning it over in her hands. After a few more seconds, she’s suddenly grinning. “Finally!” Is shouted as she holds up the can of soda triumphantly. “I’ve been waiting for a Crush on me for the longest time!” They’d all but drank nearly every last bit of the Whiskey, so she pulls back the tab on it and takes a sip. “Yup, that hits the spot.” She smacks her lips, holding the can out in the space between them. “If anything, thanks for the drink. Want some?” 

Her reaction is delayed which manages to further amuse him. His laughter dies down once she opens the can. The simple thought of the taste of an orange soda chasing the alcohol is enough to make him nauseous. “Nuh-uh,” He shakes his head, a fist momentarily covering his mouth making it clear he’s not just being polite, “It’s all yours.” He attempts to sit back by her side but misses the edge of the mattress and lands on the ground provoking a “Woah,” from Jo, as though he’s just realized he’s fallen moments after he’s already hit the ground. His hands stick up in the air as though he’s telekinetic, “Aidyyyyy, please stop spinning the room, it’s not funny.” The sun finally sinks down behind the tallest building, making everything in the room seem as shadows rather than objects. With his eyesight blocked by the bed, Jo suddenly cries out, “Aiden are you still with me? I’m going to cry if you’re not here.”

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Like too many times before, Aiden rolls her eyes at his reaction. “Right, gross.” She responds, biting back at chuckle at the mere thought of making him blush, even unintentionally. There’s something endearing about it all, though she takes the hint and allows for the shift in topic without much pressing. She wasn’t a complete asshole, after all. “You wouldn’t, huh? Is that so?” Her brow knitted as she mentally debated whether to take the chance she’d been given or let the moment pass. Being the sort of person she is, she simply can’t not tease Jo, especially over something like this. The interpretation is hardly admissible, and more than likely not the case, yet she grins in spite of herself. “We’ll circle back to your snapping, which was fierce,” a dramatic pause follows, holding onto the silence for added effect. “but, what I just gathered from that is that you have a cRruuUsh on me!” She falls limp against his frame for a moment, pretending she’s gone faint. Her hand that’s not wrapped around him reaches up to fan her face. “My, my!”

At the mention of his snapping, Jo sits with an unapologetic smile over what he’s done. It then becomes his turn to be the one to roll his eyes as she carries out her dramatic reaction. For a moment he doesn’t know how to reply and so with cheeks that are still tinted red he’s stuck staring at her without words. When her gaze meets his, he realizes he’s been quiet for a moment too long and so to playfully get away with the silence he looks down at her and taunts her with his eyebrows, moving them up and down with a smirk before an idea pops into his head. He slides away from her and scurries over to the small mini fridge from which he pulls out a room temperature orange soda. He hides it behind his back as he quickly makes his way back to her while struggling not to laugh. Unable to hold back any longer, he shows her the can before placing it on her leg. The label reads clearly: Crush Orange. He steps away from her and laughs harder than he has the whole evening, evidently pleased with his own pun. “It’s a crush on you,” he manages to say, small tears escaping the corners of his eyes while he claps. 

[joxpacker-blog]

Had she been sober, Aiden would’ve sat there unresponsive when he threw his arm around her or even tried moving away, but she wasn’t, so she leaned into his side as he did. Her own arm slips around his back, only for her head to pop up the second his words register. “Did you…Did you just call me mom?” Her eyes widen at the thought, not quite sure what to make of it. “I may not remember that by morning, which I seriously hope that I don’t, but at least temporarily it makes me a milf!” Adding extra emphasis on the last word with a shit-eating grin, she groans at the kiss atop her head. She barely has time to react when he moves on to teasing her about saying she loved him. Her cheeks turn red and her nose scrunches like it does when she’s frustrated, though her smile doesn’t falter. “Geeez, don’t make a big deal out of it!” Is mumbled through gritted teeth as she lightly nudges him. “Embarrassing? No take backs? What, are we in third grade and I just admitted I have a crush on you on the playground? You going to tug my pigtails?”

“Milf!” The word is shouted even though Aiden is inches away from him. “Groooosssss.” And then he’s briefly reminded by his own terrible thoughts that he’s been with a Milf and his eyes widen dramatically, suddenly loosening his hold on her and feeling his face warm up but blaming it on the whiskey. Luckily for him, the conversation moves on and his currently short attention span finds a new thing to focus on. “Well now hold on,” he lets go of her entirely, leaving only one arm loosely dangling over her shoulder, “I would never pull your pigtails.” Though one of us looks like they’re in the third grade, he thinks, and immediately cracks up, but doesn’t voice his thought because he figures he’s maxed out the height teasing for one day. “I happened to share all my Lunchables with my third grade crushes so, excuse you,” Jo uses his free hand to snap his fingers in z-formation, “I’m a gentleman.” 

[joxpacker-blog]

Aiden drops her hand and leans in closer to him, her own eyes widened with excitement. It takes a moment for her to actually remember just what she was going to say to him, but when she does there’s no missing the bright grin on her face. “I need you to listen to me very closely, okay? Don’t mess around!” Comes out in a hushed tone, as if she’s about to tell him the nuclear launch codes or the secret to immortality. “I’m proud of you, dude. So proud! You’re a rock star.” Which she wasn’t just saying because of the Smash Mouth performance he just gave, even if it certainly played a part in it. “Seriously. You’re handling this – everything – so well. I’m glad you’re like…alive and stuff.” See, some people, people like her, were built for the end of the world; Jo, however, he was not. Though, he was acclimating far better than she ever could have imagined. “I feel like there was a point to this at the beginning but I really just wanted to tell you that. And that I love you.” A misplaced giggle passes her lips as she shrugs and kicks her shoes off the end of his bed. “Boom!” Following the conclusion of her little ‘speech’, she dramatically mimes dropping a mic.

Jo’s eyebrows rise along with the apparent seriousness on her behalf. He leans in as she does too, fully ready to pinky promise that whatever she’s about to tell him he’ll take with him to the grave, or wherever his remains end up. What follows is not what he expects. At first, he seems confused by the compliment, even sharing an, “Oh?” But as she continues, a smile is effortlessly coaxed forward. He shrugs to shake it off because alcohol or no alcohol, brushing off compliments comes easily to Jo. After her mic drop however, an overly affectionate Joseph wraps his arms around her shoulders, “Aiden, you’re the soccer mom I never had.” He laughs at the thought before placing a big kiss on the top of her head. “You loooOOove me.” He laughs even more as he obnoxiously elongates the word love, poking at her side when he releases her from his previous hold. “How embarrassing,” he continues to tease her, “No take backs.” 

[joxpacker-blog]

Just as soon as the hiccup spell passes, Aiden’s eyes widen when she registers that he thanked her. It naturally hadn’t occurred to her in the moment just what might have been going through his head, so she decidedly brushes it off. “Pffffft! What for? This is my job!” That was what friends were for, was it not? He’d had a tough time, so she reverted back to her teenage self (the same self that thought alcohol was the answer to all her problems ) for a night and got him drunk; both on their chosen Whiskey and life. It was oddly refreshing getting to kick back and enjoy themselves for once. Save for inside his room or with him in general, it was no-nonsense for her all the time. She had other people counting on her, people that weren’t capable of doing it themselves. Her mind wanders to the her birth parents, then to her deceased father, brothers, and mother..They’d all been her fault in one way or another, which meant it was only a matter of time before the remaining people she loved joined them. “Can I tell you something?” Is hesitantly slurred out as she reaches over to silence him, even though he wasn’t talking. “It’s like, suuuper important, though!”

He wishes it wasn’t her job to push him to do things he wouldn’t do on his own. Not because he holds anything against Aiden specifically, not in the very least, but because he wishes it wasn’t anyone’s job but his own. It technically still is, but both Aiden and him know he does terribly at convincing himself to be more adventurous. One thing is certain, he’s definitely grateful that Aiden has chosen to push him despite his constant reluctance. At her question he can’t believe she even has to ask. He nods quietly, eyes big with curiosity as to what she wants to say while she hushes him. He presses his own two fingers against his lips, obnoxiously shh-ing before she continues. “What is it?”

[joxpacker-blog]

At some point in the middle of their impromptu concert, Aiden stops singing to her chosen High School Musical song to watch on as he performed. Even in the state they’re in, she’s not sure she can recall Jo ever being so carefree in all the time she’s known him. The thought brings a smile to her face as she dances along to his sing-shouting combination, momentarily blissfully unaware of the horrors raging on outside the walls of his room. Between her own moves and watching him vigorously jumping on the bed, she has to stop to catch her breath, taking a seat on the edge of the bed whilst he jumps. When he comes crashing down, she reaches out to check on him, just as he pops back up. When his solo is finished, she stands again, whooping and clapping. “Yeeeeeah! That was so good!” Reaching down to grab the bottle that had since been forgotton on the floor, she dramatically holds it up like she’s toasting him. “If I had known you were this good at karaoke, I would’ve dragged you out more!” Downing about half of what’s left in the bottle, it’s held out in the space between them for him to grab should he want it. “I think–“ a hiccup. "we’ve had–” another. “a lot to drink.”

While the alcohol is certainly a factor in Jo’s liberal demeanor, the truth of the matter is that one thing alone is what’s set him free: his father is gone. No one will ever be there again to hold his hand. Sure, Aiden often did a lot of the hand holding, but hers had always been a guiding hand, while his father’s had been one that held him in place. Suddenly before him are a million possibilities with no one to guilt him out of any of them. It’s selfish, but most of all, it’s liberating and God the taste of true possible freedom is sweet. And while Jo cannot consider this truth, it subconsciously propels him to laugh away the worries of any zombie atrocity and enjoy the fact that in a world where just about everyone is alone and dying, he’s with his closest friend and living. He sits up and takes the bottle from her but doesn’t continue to drink because her words are right and he’s certain another gulp will take him away from the night. Instead, her hiccups lead him into another fit of giggling before he speaks, “I don’t think I’ve ever drunketh this much in my life. Thanks you.”