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I HATE THIS WHY DIDN'T I RUN WHEN I FIRST SAW THEM!? Pico screamed at himself in his head as he sped past an abandoned lot. His half corrupt body eased the fatigue that came with running for so long but it still sucked his living friends might be the ones to see him turn.

He whipped out his uzi from it's holster, shooting at a corrupted citizen. He knew it wouldn't die but it was best if he knocked them what he rendered as unconscious for an amount of time, so they'd forget that they saw him.

So he didn't bear any horrors of being found. His teammates, his friends, plus a small bit of survivors from his ex BF's game, were waiting for him, how would he tell them that he might be the one to get them first?

He began to have a breakdown while he was running, snot falling from his nose, tears slipping into his open mouth through the gap in his teeth, his breath was heavy and it came out in puffs of cold.

They could have taken this corruption, this virus, if it weren't so, so cold out. It broke out during the winter, closer to Christmas, when there would be more people shopping for gifts. It seemed this lemon thing had the right idea and Pico hated that.

HE HATED IT MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE

Back at the base, Captain John was talking with Bitey, a veteran member of his squadron alongside all the other old Newgrounds characters. 

"So, what I'm saying is, you gotta get the feel for it ya know?" Captain prompted.

"I dunno man, never really liked guns, melee is more my alley." Bitey snorted, his hoofed foot clinking against the uncomfy metal floor.

"Well you're gonna have to start using them if you want to not get corrupted, dumbfuck."

"Well excuse me, Captain. I never thought we would have to fight for our life again after we finally got rid of Piconjo and his ugly fuckers he called lackeys! Why would I want to use a gun anyway?"

"DUDE I JUST SAID WHY YOU MORON."

"I mean like, what do you want me to do, dick-ride it? I DON'T LIKE GUNS." Bitey practically burst out with laughter, setting Captain off as well. 

Salad Fingers, who was having a nice conversation with Girlfriend's parents nearby, who were still a bit grief-struck from losing their daughter to whatever virus was out there, finally snapped out angrily, holding his voice from stuttering to get his point across.

"Can you simple minded fice quit with your boisterous noise? I'm trying to hear what other people have to say, not listen to you cackle about cock-sucking."

At the word 'cock' they began laughing again, to which Sal groaned loudly in defeat, looking down at the floor and balling up his hands, if you could even call them that.

~~~~~~~

Holy fuck he finally made it! Pico slowed to a walk, letting out a held in breath, looking at his now clawed, purpley hand with tears still in his pale eyes.

He wiped the snot from his nose and rapped on the metal door, Alien would have been on watch right now.

Pico knew he had forgotten a few things back when he began running, but he got the bare necessities, he was grabbing stuff for himself as well as everybody else here. He stared at the scuffed grass and claw marks in the dirt.

It had been a couple weeks since they had lost a friend of Hank Wimbleton's, Deimos. He was dragged away by the killer clown Hank went against so much, Tricky, who was corrupt when it happened and possibly still was.

Deimos was already a bit corrupt in the hand, as he would take turns doing supply runs with Alien, Pico, and a few others. That was what caused the claw marks in the ground.

Pico stopped thinking, he didn't want to think anymore, it hurt to do that. He simply waited for Alien Hominid to open the door for him, angry at himself for thinking he could set Boyfriend and his GF free.

Once Hominid opened the door his antennae flicked back and he ran off rather quickly, most likely to tell Captain about how he looked. He guessed right because Alien came back with Captain John and Bitey, all of them emotionally hurt and shocked.

Pico was let in and once the door shut closed, Captain started angrily.

"Pico.. what did you do?.. Im not, I mean I am mad but, why? HOW, even?! You were doing a supply run, not jogging with the corrupted idiots out there!"

"John? Wh-what's happ—" Salad Fingers slipped out of the corner of the doorway into a living room of sorts, eyes widening in fear at the sight of Pico and his half corrupted body.

"My lord, how did this— this happen?" The green man paused, turning to reassure somebody else in the room with him, before leaving into the room the others were in.

The room felt so cold to Pico, like a hospital room, as if the freezing cold would sterilize this corruption like it were a common cold, he began to cry again, he was definitely an ugly cryer. Snot and tears streaming and everything, he felt all eyes on him, eyes full of bewilderment and fear.

"I'm— I'm sorry guys, I thought I could—" he stammered, dropping to the floor and dropping what supplies he had grabbed from the ground near the subway, where he had fled, when he was being chased by his former friends. The bag dropped with a gentle thud.

Salad Fingers seemed the least scared, he was the eerie scary guy after all. He bent down to Pico's level, his voice quiet and slightly concerned.

"Thought you could what?.." he tried comforting Pico but alas, he wasn't too good at that.

"I tried to sing with BF— in- in hopes that it would fix him or something and— I COULDN'T! I FAILED! HE'S GONE! ALL MY OLD FRIENDS ARE GONE! I COULDN'T SAVE THEM AND IT'S ALL. MY. FAULT!"

Salad Fingers jumped backwards, staggering back up and gripping his head as he reeled. Captain went on, more softer now but still tense.

"Well, what're you going to do now?.. Rub it off? You can't stay here like this." Pico's eyes dulled in fear at the prospect of having to leave, only to die alone and turn thoughtless as he went after his friends whenever they went outside.

"I— I can't leave, where would I go?..." Pico quizzed, head lowering shamefully.

"Not here, that's for sure."

Pico's brain suddenly sparked. "Wait! The corruption's on my face, hair, and hand, but it's only on my clothes! I think?.."

"Dumbass, if it's on your clothes, it soaked into your clothes through your skin." Bitey analyzed Pico's thesis, making him lower his head again.

"Please let me stay, Captain, please, if it get's too bad I PROMISE, I'll leave." Pico's desperate, hoarse crying garbled with his dying voice struck Captain with a newfound empathy.

"Hmph, if you say so, ya'll agree?" Nobody objected, Captain John took it as agreement.

"Alright, you'll stay, but you definitely aren't going outside, exposing you to more corrupted air would make it worse, you'll stay on your room until further instruction, 'kay?"

"Okay, that's fair, thanks Cap, I'm glad you're reasonable." Pico's incorrupt side of his face formed a calm, tired grin, he staggered upward, holding out his arms.

"Space! I don't wanna infect anybody!" Pico chuckled slightly as he said this, sending a mutual reaction of giggling through the ones gathered in the room as he ran off and up some stairs to get into his room.

"We'll definitely have— have to make sure that corruption isn't lingering from where he sat and where h-he went." Salad snickered.

"Yeah, you're right. Get somebody to play empowering music at it, that seems to drive it away." Captain joked, making everybody laugh a bit harder.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. How wrong they were.

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