I Hope the Worst Isn't Over ✔️

Chapter Four

Janus felt himself being shaken awake the next day, and he opened his eyes with a groan as the world faded back in around him. The sun was already in the sky, beaming down its warmth through the gaps in the trees. He sat up quickly as realisation dawned on him, wondering why it was already morning. Remus said he'd take first watch after finding Janus so distressed about burning dinner, but he was still supposed to wake him up halfway through the night.

"Why is it morning already?" Janus asked, holding himself up with his arms.

"Because that's what we call it when the sun rises," Remus replied, either teasing or dodging the question entirely.

The tan man sighed, shaking his head, "No, why didn't you wake me up earlier? You were only supposed to let me sleep half the night so I could take second watch."

"You needed the sleep, Dee. You had so many bags under your eyes it was like some girl showing off her shopping haul, but instead of makeup, you're trying to unload all that trauma and stress of yours."

"Jesus Christ, Remus…" he mumbled, pressing on his temples, "This means you didn't even sleep for, what, more than 20 minutes? How do you expect to function today?"

"I can take it," he said with a wink, "It's not like you haven't done the same, anyway."

"I have not," he argued falsely, lowering his arms from his head and pushing himself to his feet.

"But you have, countless times! Literally, I've lost track. I mean, you used to preach and preach about self-care," said Remus, mimicking speech with his hand, "Where has that advice gone now?"

"Things change in the apocalypse, we can't exactly put everything on hold to take some mental health vacation. We have to focus on basic self-preservation."

Remus rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his friend's shoulders, "Such quitter talk. Eventually we'll have shot down enough of those flesh bags to have a good time."

Janus sighed and looked over at their supplies to avoid eye-contact, unsure of how to respond. Was such a thing possible? Could their lives really be normal again? He brushed the thought aside and stepped away from Remus, grabbing hold of the bags and holding one out, "We should get going."

A look of disappointment seemed to flash across the brunet's face, but it was just as quickly replaced with a grin, "I see someone's eager today. Okay, let's go."

Janus simply nodded and slipped the other bag over his shoulders-- weighted and achy on his back. He imagined his friend felt just as uncomfortable hauling around the heavy pack, if not even more so from his lack of sleep. The two walked together in momentary silence, before Remus became bored and whipped a butterfly knife from his pocket. He spun it around in his hand as if it weren't a lethal weapon, fingers practically dancing around the handles with surprising ease. It clattered sharply as its metal clinked against itself, and as usual, Janus was almost caught off guard by his friend's abilities. It was easy to forget how capable the man was, but in the moments he effortlessly twirled around a balisong, or shoved down his fear to bravely face the undead, one was reminded just how much of a force to be reckoned with he really was. He was stronger than he let on-- and smarter, too. Just how much of that was to surprise the enemy, and how much of it was a personal coping mechanism, Janus was never sure.

Remus chuckled as he noticed the other man staring, "What is it? See something you like?" He ceased his knife tricks and turned towards Janus, now walking sideways and holding out his arms to show off his form.

"What? No. Wait, shit, I mean- what kind of question even is that?"

Remus laughed again, holding his stomach with his free arm, "Boy, you're easy to fluster sometimes! Some good that extra sleep did you." He patted his friend on the back and shook his head, turning to face forward again and snickering as he went back to his tricks.