aaron-hope:

fletcherwhitetip:

Fletcher groaned, exasperated, and plopped down next to the blonde. “I told you,” he grumbled. “Passingly decent.” His roommate had literally just jogged up and, with one move, taken his ball! He knew he’d been in a tight spot, but honestly - that was just embarrassing. “You’ve got to teach me some better football, or you’ll die without a decent footie partner.” He didn’t notice that he’d used Aaron’s slang as he pondered whether there were any girls who could be at the other bloke’s level. No, he decided, the girls he’d met thus far were not really football players.

“It’s too bad there aren’t more people,” he mused aloud. “We can’t form teams.” Never mind the impending doom of the world, the lack of football teams was heartbreaking.

“I’d rather die than not be able to play footie with a decent bloke!” the blonde cried in mock hysteria, running around like it was the end of the world. Technically, the world’s impending doom was right around the corner - with the entire zombie apocalypse and all, but Aaron tried to forget about it. “But I suppose I can show you, given the fact that I have nothing but time on my hands,” the Irish lad grinned, turning his head to look over at Fletcher. 

He bit his lip at the mention of a lack of members to play, for there truly wasn’t anyone else but them two who truly and wholeheartedly enjoyed the game. Then again, the blonde could easily make two clones of himself to create more players, but his power seemed to stop there. There was a certain barrier that he needed to pass in order to continue making clones, and he hadn’t reached that mastery at this certain moment in time. “You’d be absolutely brilliant on the pitch if you turned invisible, and people would have to rely on watching the ball than watching you…” Aaron said in awe as the thought dawned on him. “You’d be practically invincible, Fletcher!”

Fletcher drooped for a moment, then thought about Aaron’s idea. Slowly, he began to brighten back up. “You really think so?” he asked excitedly, getting to his feet to join Aaron as the bloke began to show him the move he’d used. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. Finally, a way to use his power for more than embarrassing moments. He grinned, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was no Fletcher to be seen - except for his clothes.

Fletcher laughed, gesturing to the objects. “These are a problem,” he grinned. “Maybe one day Safening will find clothes to blend with me.” Trying Aaron’s move, he managed to fall on his face. “This is wonderful,” he said around a mouthful of grass. “Great bonding time.”

fletcherwhitetip:

Emma placed her hand over Fletcher’s mouth and with her other hand, pressed her finger to her lips. “Calm down.” She said. “I was only joking. Well, kind of. I don’t know.”

She sighed. She was just tired of living like this. It’s not that she wanted to necessarily die, she just didn’t want to live like this. She didn’t want to be a survivor of the zombie apocalypse. She’d rather be in heaven where her brother was.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She told the boy. “But we’re not the lucky ones at all.”

Fletcher just shook his head slowly, sadly. How could he reassure the girl, when he felt the same thing? When he also questioned why he had survived, and whether it had been worth it?

“Honestly, what’s keeping me going at this point is the possibility of revenge, I think. It’s like if I can avenge… avenge my family, it’ll be alright. And that’s all I want. You’re right, we’re not the lucky ones, not by a long shot. The lucky ones died before this all started.”

fletcherwhitetip:

Emma laughed and nodded her petite, little head. “It took you long enough to figure it out.” She said. She laid down and started running her hands over the cool grass. It probably looked like she was trying to make grass angels. Even as her and Fletcher lay here in the grass, she could feel a few spirits swirling around in the air.

“Sadly, there aren’t many Casper’s.” She said hoping he would understand her reference. “Most are just sad and afraid. To be honest though, I think I’d rather be dead right now than alive.”

Fletcher sat up and stared at her. “What?” he asked, alarmed. “Emma, no, please. You can’t leave, I’ve only just met you and you’re great and I’d be crushed if you were dead. We were the lucky ones, you know? Sure, some could argue that we were unlucky, that we can see everything going on, but at least we’re aware of what’s happening and can do something to stop it.” Fletcher halted his speech abruptly, breathing hard, eyes wide. The thought of yet another person leaving scared him more than he would like to admit.

fletcherwhitetip:

Emma couldn’t help but laugh. Silly, silly Fletcher. It was time she educated this poor boy on the supernatural world.

“Silly, Fletcher.” She arranged herself to sit cross legged and then began with her lesson. “Why would ghosts want to help us…the living? Most ghosts are very angry that they died and stuff like that. They’re jealous of us because we’re still alive and they’re not. And ghosts are everywhere. You just can’t feel them because you’re not a medium.”

She started nodding, proud of the little lesson on ghosts she just gave. Emma was the type of girl who got overly proud when she new a lot about some topic, no matter how weird it was. And of course she’d be an expert on ghosts since she was a medium herself.

“So, yes. Ghosts.”

Fletcher grimaced. He believed Emma wholeheartedly, that was the problem. “So instead of nice dead people who could help us, we get angry dead people who are jealous and would take our place?” he asked. “How comforting.”

He frowned slightly, putting two and two together as he stared at Emma. Finally, he smiled. “You’re a medium!” he exclaimed, grinning at her. “That’s why you know so much!” He felt a little better - Fletcher hated being ignorant.

fletcherwhitetip:

Emma gave Fletcher a confused look. Of course ghosts were real. She was a medium so she of course would know these things. “Wait. You don’t believe in ghosts even though we’re in the middle of the zombie apocalypse and there’s a bunch of people running around with super human gifts?”

She poked his side and laid down beside him. The grass below her felt kind of itchy, but she ignored it. Right now everything was seriously just…great. She turned to look at Fletcher and smiled.

“Well, Fletcher Whitetip, you better start believing in ghost because I know, for a fact, that they are real.”

Fletcher shook his head stubbornly at the brunette. “The fact that there are zombies just intensifies the feelings I have about ghosts,” he replied. “If ghosts were real they would help out a little more, yeah? Seeing as they can’t get infected. And if ghosts were real then they’d be around a bit more often. So, no ghosts.”

There was enough going on without the possibility of dead people being more alive than they already were, even as Infected.

fletcherwhitetip:

“Do you honestly believe that, Bird?” Abbie asked with a tilt of her head. “I didn’t mean to suggest you had no heart. Truly. Because someone without a heart wouldn’t be able to hurt this much. And I’m sorry that the old Abigail hurt you that deeply. But listen to yourself. You are yelling at a girl that you barely know who wants to get to know you anyway.” She leaned over and tilted his face towards hers with two fingers.

“Look me in the eyes, Bird.” She said, keeping his gaze. “I have never been able to lie to anyone, because my eyes gave me away. Look at them now. There is sadness, regret, and apology all in my eyes, Bird. You’ve seen them all. Yes, I have been cruel, but ever intentionally so? Ever for the sole purpose of wounding you? No. Never. I am so sorry that it happened anyway, butneverhave I been cruel for the sake of cruelty. You look me in the eyes, Bird, and you’ll see that there is a girl there begging to be forgiven of something she doesn’t remember doing. This memory loss isn’t supposed to be a balm. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, but I’m trying so hard to make it worthwhile. To salvage something because of it. Maybe this friendship is what I’m supposed to be digging for.”

“Bird, I am fighting. I am fighting, because you deserve it. You deserve to have me fight for your forgiveness. And I am fighting so hard. But no matter how much you turn me away, how much you snub me, how many times you insult me or call me names. I. Am. Not. Giving. Up. On. You. Because something is telling me, not once, have you ever given up on me. You, Bird, are worth the fight. The fight to know that when you look at me, maybe you won’t see hatred, and maybe we’ll see a friend. I’m fighting to prove to you that it is not the past that matters, but our choices in the present, just like you told me. I’m fighting because everything you are, everything you’ve done, deserves to be fought for. Don’t you see, Bird? This is Abigail Tress the way she was supposed to be. Not a cheater. Not a liar. But someone reaching out for you. Someone fighting for you.”

Fletcher was ice. There was no fire left in him, only hardness and cold. Fire could be gentle, playful, whereas ice was hard and impenetrable if in thick layers. His fire had been extinguished, and replaced with ice. He was in no mood for games. 

“You are fighting for someone who doesn’t need to be saved. You are fighting a battle that you have already lost. Because you have lied, Tress. Concealing the truth is lying. It is cruel to lie, and conceal. It is cruel to continue torturing a person when it’s obvious they’ve had more than enough. The only thing I can say to your memory loss is that I can only be indifferent to you. That is as far as I will be able to go, and that will take an enormous amount of time that currently, I’m not willing to give up.”

Fletcher shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how many times you reach out, if the other person is unwilling to grab on. So stop yelling at me to jump over an uncrossable abyss to reach you, alright? I’m not ready and I don’t have the energy.”  

Fletcher walked around Abigail and began to exit the room. He paused at the door, then turned. “And if you had been really trying, as you said, you would have respected my wishes and called me Fletcher or Whitetip. I am no longer your Bird, and I never will be.”

fletcherwhitetip:

“One day, if I remember everything, Bird. And I will keep calling you that, because that’s how I have you in my head. And that is also a big if, do you really think that I’m going to look back on all of this and laugh? On me c-cheating on you?” God, she could barely get her mouth around the word. “No, because it’s hurting me too. Not as much as you, I’m sure, but it hurts. From what you’ve told me, you were wonderful. Perfect, even. And I threw that away.”

“But how can you say that the root of a person is the same, Bird? How can you possibly? Are you the same? Were you always this callous and cold and calculating? Because there had to be a time when you weren’t, before me. Which of these are your roots? The cold one that you’re showing or the warm one you had to have been once. How do you know after the time we spent together which are mine? Technically, the me that’s standing before you, this is the first me. A purer me than the one you knew. Somebody who is desperately reaching out to someone. Anyone. Someone who, despite everything you say to me, everything you yell at me, believes that you are still warm and wonderful.”

“I have never asked you to forgive who I was. That is past and that is terrible and I can never think about it and not shudder. But I’m asking you to look at who I am. This person has never known cheating. Has never known a real relationship. Hell, I haven’t kissed anyone. And all I’m asking you for is a chance. A chance to prove to you that this is my root. A good friend, a solid one. Please, Bird. Somewhere in you hasn’t been frozen by the old Abigail Tress. Somewhere in you there is a heart. And you know that what I’m saying is true.”

“DO NOT CALL ME BIRD!” roared Fletcher, disappearing entirely. “You don’t know me, you don’t know who I am. I don’t know who you are, either. And I can honestly say I don’t really want to. How dare you say I have no heart. How dare you think that because you had one, idiotic accident, that you can rectify a mistake by acting like it never happened.”

“I am not cold. I wish I was cold. If I was, I’d be gone, away from you and your drama. Ask anyone here, and they can tell you that I am not calculating. I don’t care to be strangers, I want to have friends I can count on at the end of the world. Frankly, you are not going to be one of them. Around you, I’ll always have a guard up. I’ll always have this mask. I will never be able to be normal around you, because if you were able to be callous and cruel once, you will be able to do so again.”

fletcherwhitetip:

Abbie sat down from shock. She couldn’t even believe what he was saying. “I remember our fight,” she whispered as thoughts flooded back to her. “I c-cheated, didn’t I? And I kept saying that I didn’t know but deep down I did. Fletcher. Your name is Fletcher Whitetip. But I called you Bird, but I don’t know why.”

Tentatively she went over to him where he was staring at the wall. “Fletcher. Please, you have to believe I’m a different person. Honest to God, I am. Nothing can ever atone for what I did to you. Ever. But, you have to know that I’m not that person now. In everything, I am two years younger than I was when I cheated. Please, Fletcher. That girl who cheated on you, who you loved, who broke your heart. She’s gone and never coming back. I can’t bring her back even though I wanted to try. But this Abbie, the Abbie from before all the heartbreak, from before knowing you, she’s begging you to give her a chance. As just a friend. Please, Fletcher.” She looked at him. “You swore you would never forgive that girl, but I’m not that girl. I’m just Bee. Bee before everything. Please, Fletcher. Let us help each other heal.”

Then she was hit by another memory, a memory of his thoughts. “A long time ago, you wanted to know my favorite food, my secret hiding places, and how I took my coffee. Well, me, as Bee, am telling you that my favorite food is ice cream, everything important I hide under my pillow, and I take my coffee with regular milk and about six sugars. Meet this girl, Fletcher. Move on and become stronger from the girl I used to be.”

Fletcher looked down at the girl in front of him, eyes blank and emotionless. “You are not Bee.” he stated flatly. “And do not call me Bird. I never want to hear that name again.” He walked away from her, putting a bed in between them before he crossed his arms and resumed his gaze. “You say you are not the same person. But you are the root of that person. You have the essence of her, the soul, the persuasiveness.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he repeated in a soft voice, “the persuasiveness.”

“One day, you will remember everything, and you will be the same person as you were before. You will be slightly different, but you will still be the same. You will be that girl who trampled my feelings for her own, and you will retain that instinct by default. You probably have it now.”

He shook his head slowly, eyes open as if he was in a trance. And he was, because otherwise, he would have just left her there. “You can’t just claim memory loss, Tress, and expect your problems to be gone,” he stated. “If anything, you just made everything so much worse. I was moving on, I was doing fine. Every second I look at you now, makes everything so much twisted. And you cheating on me with Coxx was already twisted.”