You'll Live Forever Tonight

by DevHasIssues (Diamondisbackbitch)

Summary:

Sejanus is barely scraping by as a medical officer in Twelve, trying to balance his desire to help others without risking too much of his own neck getting caught aiding the rebels. Among other tasks, he cares for the constantly revolving supply of undead soldiers, serving the Capitol's needs until they are no longer considered 'salvageable'.

He never agreed with how they were treated. Like less than human. Every day he saw their emotions, their pain pulsing through clouded eyes from injuries they sustained protecting the living.

If I could save just one

Notes:

title is from Introduction To The Snow by Miracle Musical, this is the prompt fill for day three of @Tziporah7's spooktober snowjanus event, Stitches. This was mostly just a fun little drabble I started that got a little away from me, so there will be three chapters (at least two but hopefully all three posted this month) not super long, but a nice little zombie romance for our favorite boys :)

Chapter 1

“Grunt got banged up on the last mission, hoped you could patch him so we don’t have to send for more replacements already.” Commander Hoff nodded back to the caged zombie sitting oddly silent in his heavy restraints as he stared firmly towards the floor.

 

“’Course.” Sejanus nodded respectfully towards the Commander before stepping closer to the cage Most zombies were held together in larger cages to mingle with each other while not performing their duties, but injuries could make the others go wild at the stench of blood and exposed flesh. Any sustained injuries that couldn’t be patched up meant they would be decommissioned and the headless body buried with little respects in the mass graves holding now far more of the population than walked alive.

 

The tag around the zombie’s neck read Pvt. Snow, a title only granted to those who served before being turned, only to wind up part of the Capitol’s new army, sparing its precious remaining civilians by harnessing the epidemic that had nearly wiped them out into an army of disposable soldiers prepared to tear into their enemies without thought or mercy.

 

Cloudy blue eyes looked up into his own as Sejanus moved to unlock the cage, his med kit underneath his arm. Sejanus smiled at him. “Hi there. Snow, right? I’m Sejanus, I’m just here to fix you up.”

 

The zombie moved, shifting his leg forward to show off the long gash, congealed with dark blood that clung to his trousers.

 

It was a harsh injury, all down the limb. Sejanus mostly dealt with smaller scrapes when most more dire injuries led to the patient simply being disposed of instead of being brought for any form of treatment. Sejanus knelt to get a better look. “What happened?”

 

“Scouting in the forest, we got jumped by some rebels,” Commander Hoff explained gruffly, shifting back from the open cage door. “Took out nearly half the squad, but I was hopin’ you could salvage this one.”

 

What’s so special about you? Sejanus wondered. It was rare anyone living dared to show compassion toward the undead. Most from the Capitol simply saw them as disposable bodies there to serve their own needs. He’d heard they’d even become popular as servants, with their teeth and tongues removed to ensure they would remain docile.

 

“It'll be a good number of stitches, but he should be alright in a day or so,” Sejanus assured. A simple cut was nothing he couldn’t handle, even considering the length of the gash. “Might be best to keep him away from the others for a bit longer though, just in case the stitches rip.”

 

Hoff grunted. “I’ll let them know he’ll be taking one of the medic cages for a couples days then.” He kept watching a few moments while Sejanus cut the fabric away from the wound, grimacing at the greenish tinge to the bloody wound. “I expect a full report when you’re done with what supplies you’ve used.”

 

“Of course, sir.” Sejanus sighed. He was working with the bare essentials as it was, only permitted to use what was absolutely necessary with each patient and constantly berated for ‘wasting’ supplies ensuring the undead were offered the same attentive care he offered the living. It wasn’t fair to expect him to turn away injuries from those he knew would be killed if he couldn’t manage to perform his duties adequately.

 

Hoff’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, giving no other indication that he was leaving while Sejanus focused on cleaning the wound, careful to conserve enough gauze to wrap it once he was done. Even without lifting his head he could feel eyes still burning through his skull. Looking up confirmed that Snow’s clouded irises were still watching him intently.

 

“Hi there.” Sejanus smiled. “I’m Sejanus Plinth, with the medic team. Just here to get you patched up and make sure you’re alright ‘til you’re healed.” Healed wasn’t quite the right word for it. Zombie’s flesh would more or less fuse back together with some stitching, though without support it would inevitably rot away again. Metal stitches and enough time for the flesh to seal was usually enough to keep them together and not alert the others to the wound. Zombies pick on the weak, even among each other. It was horrible to keep them in tight containment with each other, but casualties were rare enough so long as none of them smelled fresh blood and grew agitated, and most considered them disposable enough not to care if one or two became the targets of others now and then so long as they still served as adequate fodder to fight in place of who they saw as more valuable.

 

The zombie grunted, barely moving other than a twitch of his lips, showing off surprisingly clean teeth behind them. They must’ve caught him before he ate anyone. It brought a strange warmness in Sejanus’s chest and a new determination to save his patient.

 

He measured out to see how many stitches would be needed, already wincing both from knowing he’d be reprimanded for not saving a few spacing them farther apart and simply knowing how much each of them was sure to hurt. While the debate was still out among his superiors over whether or not zombies truly felt pain enough to be permitted any rations of medications to dull it, Sejanus had seen and heard all the proof he needed to be positive that pain was a universal experience.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sejanus murmured, fixing the stitches onto the tray and snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. “If I could give you something to make this easier I swear I would.”

 

Snow groaned at that, shifting a bit in place. It must have been a painful injury to sustain already. Clearly agonizing even sitting in place, leaving Sejanus wondering just how far he'd had to endure walking on it to get to the medical station at all. It wasn't likely a zombie that had to be carried would ever be considered worth the cost of recovery.

 

I’m sorry . Sejanus hesitated before moving to make a puncture for the first stitch. He’d heard so much screaming in anguish from pain he couldn’t soothe. Broken teeth from the gnashing and bracing against unimaginable agony. Sejanus snapped off his gloves, making a note to claim the pair as faulty to explain why they were thrown into the bin unused. “I’ll be right back, alright?”

 

Anything taken from the supply cabinet would be noticed and questioned immediately. Sejanus wouldn’t risk his job over the situation, no matter how it dragged on his soul, but back in his private quarters there was a small lockbox holding him most precious possessions. Inside, tucked underneath photos of his parents and the few friends he’d found back in District 2, was a small vial, nearly empty now, containing the last of his morphling rations from a recent injury to his knee during a raid. He’d been taken for questioning and the injury worsened when he refused to identify the rebels who’d done it, knowing the supplies they took would be going back to better use, spread to those who needed them instead of locked away for officers and those with spare coins to bribe their way in.

 

It still ached, though dulled by the medication he was given. A placation to pretend his interrogation was nothing more than routine debriefing. It didn’t matter when others went through far worse every day. He could still walk, at least.

 

Sejanus hurried to return to his post, keeping his head down to avoid questions as to why he’d slipped away for a moment. Snow was thankfully still where he’d left him, seeming to brighten when he caught sight of Sejanus walking back in, locking the door behind himself.

 

“I brought you something to make it a little better. Just don’t tell anyone, alright?” Sejanus held up the vial, simultaneously realizing the issue therein. “I’m going to have to take your mask off for a second to give it to you though, so you have to swear you’ll be good for me.” Removing a zombie’s mask, or ‘bite-guards’ as they were sometimes referred to, all simply nicer ways to say muzzle considering they removed a zombie’s limited ability to communicate along with preventing them from biting, was practically unheard of without heavy restraints and protective gear. Usually only when it was damaged to replace it or to perform the horrible surgeries that turned them into the trendy new Capitol ‘servants’, usually paraded around far more like pets from what little Sejanus had seen.

 

Snow nodded, bringing both relief in Sejanus that he could understand what was happening and the dawning horror that his mind was still there enough to comprehend things around him. Most couldn’t, or at least couldn’t communicate fully their ability to other than grunts and stumbled over words. Some newer ones could form simple sentences, but soon enough it all seemed to become scrambled and nonsensical as their minds seemed to finally slip.

 

It wasn’t exactly polite to ask someone when they’d died but Sejanus couldn’t help but to be curious, since the darkened blood and green tinges underneath his pale skin would indicate he’d been dead at least a few months, if not longer. Sejanus moved slowly, having to get quite close to reach around to unlock the mask around Snow’s face. His skin was stone cold to the touch and he hardly flinched as Sejanus unhooked the bar between his teeth, revealing the thin spikes on the inside that kept it from being ripped out through the mask without destroying the entire mouth in the process.

 

Sejanus tried not to show his disgust on his face as he placed it to the side and held up the vial. “I just need you to open your mouth and tilt your head back, okay? It’s called morphling, it’ll dull your senses for a bit.”

 

“I… know… morph… ling… is…” It took a moment for Snow to finish muttering out the words but the look of indignation on his face was enough.

 

Sejanus had to hold back a laugh. In all his time he’d never been spoken back to by the undead, and it was rather thrilling to know that Snow was capable of a decent amount of speech as well. Don’t insult your patients. “I just wanted to make sure, I’m sorry. I’m not going to do anything to you without telling you about it first,” He promised, giving his most genuine look into Snow’s eyes. Memorizing the blue hidden there beyond the milky white sheen of death.

 

Snow nodded again and tilted back his head, letting his jaw fall slack. Even with the darkening of his gums his teeth still stood nearly perfectly white, unmarred by traces of blood or rotted flesh. He held out his tongue expectantly for the drops, rubbing them along his gums without even having to be told.

 

He’s done this before. He remembers. Sejanus tucked the vial underneath his uniform where it wouldn’t be noticed, hesitantly moving his hand back toward the mask. Without anything to hold between his teeth they’d surely break from strain alone, but biting on the spiked rod would only cause further pain and harm. A metal rod wasn’t exactly the ideal bite guard anyway but grabbing one from the supplies cabinet was out of the question.

 

Sejanus calculated the length of gauze again and found himself already short of the amount he’d need to properly wrap the wound. His pockets didn’t hold anything but the handkerchief he’d wrapped the vial in, one of many his mother had sent over the years. Embroidered lovingly in her spare time with various patterns and colors, the light blue embroidered with sparrows and a sunrise being among his favorites.

 

It’s only fabric. Sejanus folded it, smoothing over the pattern and holding it up once he was confident it would cushion at least enough to prevent any breakage. “Here. If you bite on this it should help. I won’t put the mask back on while I’m stitching you up so long as you keep behaving.” He found himself smiling when Snow offered a grateful look as he took the handkerchief between his teeth. Kneeling back down next to his leg brought him out of range of an attack anyway, with how he was chained in place, and something had Sejanus strangely at ease with this particular zombie in comparison to so many he’d worked on.

 

The grunts of pain weren’t the worst he’d heard, but they still stung in his ears while he tried to steady his hands from shaking while applying the stitches. Snow held himself surprisingly still, though the tension was easy to see in his limbs with how they trembled despite his clear determination to stay strong through the procedure.

 

“You’re doing so well,” Sejanus praised cheerfully. “Over halfway done now, just twenty more.”

 

There was another groan, clearly not thrilling news to hear after the over two dozen metal staples already put into Snow’s leg, but the zombie held steady with a steeled look and his teeth clenched tight around the handkerchief.

 

There was no true way to work both fast and well in his profession, but Sejanus knew he’d spent too much time already. There were other patients. Sooner or later someone would come looking for him and finding him in a locked cage with an unmasked zombie would raise anyone’s curiosity as to what he’d been doing and what they might receive for reporting him for it.

 

At last, he’d finished with the stitches and was able to wrap the wound as thoroughly as possible with what gauze he still had. His knees ached getting up, far worse with the knowledge he’d be missing a day of his own medication in return for what he’d done.

 

I’ve been through worse. The pain isn’t as bad now. Lying was harder to himself, but it didn’t stop Sejanus from trying in order to keep the calm and confident demeanor he was trained to project. “You did very good for me today, Private Snow.” Sejanus patted his non-injured leg reassuringly. “You let me know if you’re having any issues, alright?”

 

He could remain cheery but it didn’t fully distract from the spiked bar sitting next to him on the tray and the knowledge he’d have to replace it in Snow's mouth, undoubtedly causing far worse pain than any of the small punctures done with the properly sharp equipment.

 

The handkerchief fluttered to the floor, sporting plenty of small rips from the imprints of teeth now decorating across it. “Cor… rio… la… nus…” Snow stuttered out, staring at Sejanus until the pieces clicked together in his mind.

 

“Coriolanus? Is that your name?” Sejanus’s heart jumped when he nodded. “It’s very nice to meet you, Coriolanus.” He needed to wrap things up. He’d already taken so long it was a wonder no one else had come to see where he was or fetch him for some emergency. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to put the mask back on now, but I’ll be back to check in on you to make sure everything’s alright,” He promised. Picking back up the bar made him feel a bit sick, especially having to scrape to wash off the dried blood that coated the spikes. Coriolanus didn’t look any more comfortable with it, but he obediently opened his mouth to accept it. Inadvertently displaying the nearly black wounds deep in his gums where he’d bitten down on the bar and pushed the metal through his own flesh.

 

“Give me a second, I’m sorry, just-” Sejanus balked, dropping the bar to keep himself from piercing through his own palm. Stepping away for a second helped calm himself a bit, seeing no one walking past in the hallway.

 

Sejanus let himself back out of the room, forcing himself to ignore Coriolanus’s noise of confusion to walk purposefully toward his target. Drugs and supplies they kept in stock were counted and inventoried to aggressively that theft was near impossible, but of the training supplies in the corner of the cabinet, Sejanus had seen pieces go missing time and time again with no investigation or replacement. It was a shame to put more of the dwindling supplies out of commission but it was a small sacrifice to slip a training mask from the back, used to teach newbies how to properly remove and replace a zombie’s mask but without the spikes that dug into the flesh to allow a living person to safely demonstrate them, tuggign out the smooth bar and tuck it into the pocket of his scrubs before hurrying back.

 

“Sorry,” Sejanus apologized again, relocking the door for what felt like the dozenth time. “Got something for you though.”

 

Coriolanus’s eyes widened as Sejanus rotated the bar in his hands to show it was entirely smooth then narrowed as he stepped closer. “W… hy…?”

 

“I think it’s wrong to keep you in pain,” Sejanus admitted with a shake of his head. “You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

 

Coriolanus didn’t say anything in response, but something in his eyes told Sejanus he wholeheartedly agreed with the statement.

 

The smooth bar was far easier to put between Coriolanus’s teeth. Sejanus smiled and stroked back across his shaved blond hair for good measure before locking the rest of the mask into pace around it. “I’ll be back on my rounds later, you just try to relax if you can and conserve your energy. I’ll be here if you need anything,” He promised.

Chapter 2

Notes:

still not really fitting the prompts but hey, it's a free space! so here's more zombies for y'all (tw for Sejanus's death in this chapter, I promise he'll be alright tho <3)

“There’s been more supplies gone this week.”

 

Sejanus swallowed, keeping his place in line as they all listened to Commander Hoff’s disgruntled announcement.

 

“Bunks and personal areas will be searched for contraband, as well as the footage covering all supply storage will be thoroughly combed for suspect activity.” Hoff cleared his throat, looking down the line of medical staff with a sharp glare. “Anyone with information regarding missing supplies should report it immediately. You are all dismissed to your regular duties.”

 

Sejanus bit on the inside of his cheek, heading down the hall to his wing of the medical center. Once again it was only him performing check ups on the nearly half-dozen patients, even smaller than some of his usual patient lists considering he was one of the only medics currently willing to take on both undead patients and those from the Districts who came in a desperate plight for help. Supplies were held even tighter away from those who couldn’t offer anything in return, and many of his fellow workers found themselves hardened enough to turn away many of those without enough lining their pockets to bribe their way into accessing whatever medicines they might require.

 

There was a slight moan was Sejanus passed the last of the holding cell cages that held his four currently undead patients. He smiled, taking out his folder to mark down his morning checks as he looked back up through the bars. “Hi there Coryo.” He’d shortened the name the zombie offered a few days after meeting him and the response had been positive to a point Sejanus was sure he wasn’t the first. “Feeling good today? It’s your last here ‘til they let you out.” Their last together, which left Sejanus a bit regretful to know the following morning he wouldn’t have the blond’s familiar face to greet him every morning with the promise that at least one of his patients for the day would behave.

 

Coriolanus groaned again through the mask. There wasn’t much else he could offer in response, but Sejanus knew from the regular checking up that his leg was healed enough that he was as ready as he’d ever be to return to his regular duties.

 

“I’ll be back in about an hour, once I check in on some others,” Sejanus promised. Human patients did have to take priority, since their injuries held the potential to get worse even under observation and care.

 

Coriolanus’s eyes stayed firmly on him as Sejanus read down his list for the day explaining the two new patients, one living one undead, that he had to work on for the day on top of his regular duties and existing patients. Sejanus froze seeing the second name, swallowing tighter in his throat.

 

“Might be a bit more than an hour, actually,” Sejanus gave an apologetic look towards the other, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

Sejanus held himself back from racing down the hall at the same speed as his beating heart. The plan had been set for weeks. He’d sworn his help after Spruce had approached him with the idea, seeming simple enough considering what good he might do for their cause in the end.

 

“I’ll come in for somethin’ small, make it look like I got hurt on duty. All ya gotta do is sneak me enough to put the guards t’ sleep for a bit so we can sneak in an’ get what we need.”

 

All he had to do was get it from the cabinet. He’d even saved up as much as he could spare of his personal money to explain the missing supplies with a bit of extra funding. Why did it have to be today? There’d be eyes on every movement toward supplies, likely for at least a few days while they found the culprits.

 

He’d be fortunate to not be questioned himself for suspicious activities that he couldn’t properly explain. I should just do it. They’ll take me in anyway, at least it’ll be worth something knowing it made a difference.

 

Spruce only nodded at him when he stepped into the exam room, passing across a small pile of coins. Not even close to affording what Sejanus was meant to bring him, but Sejanus noted down in his file the medications he was prescribing for the dislocated shoulder Spruce had come in for and gathered the pile into his pocket with his own nod. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

 

It took more than a few minutes for the way to be clear, but Sejanus knew Spruce wouldn’t care so long as he returned with the sleeping agent as promised. He would still be caught by the cameras, but by then the deed would be done and Sejanus would explain the partially missing funds somehow.

 

“You want a hand with that shoulder?” Sejanus put the small bottle into Spruce’s hand, looking away as he slipped it into his pocket unused. Plausible deniability at least.

 

“Wouldn’ mind it, doc.” Spruce flashed a bright smile despite the clear wince of pain at motioning toward the injured limb.

 

Must’ve been painful enough popping it out. Sejanus grimaced in sympathy, waiting until Spruce gave him a signal he was ready before taking his arm and holding it up where he could brace to push it back into place. “We’ll do it on three, alright? Just try to breathe through it.”

 

-

 

It was a long morning at the end of it. The older woman he’d been watching over had passed in the night. It wasn’t too surprising, seeing as even what little flu medicine Sejanus had tried to prescribe only to be denied based on funding would have done little to bring down the raging flares the woman had been coming down with. Only worse was reading through the files and discovering there was no next of kin to even tell about the incident. Her only son was undead already and off working in another district and her husband had died in a mining accident decades prior, so Sejanus was the only one to see her body off before it was taken to the morgue.

 

He’d hoped to get to check up on Coriolanus next, since he was already past his promised time frame by the time he made it back to the undead cages, but the rotting scent coming from two cages down forced him to simply give an apologetic look as he hurried past to grab his kit and head into the cage of the older male peacekeeper fighting against a rotten bite on his shoulder. The cause of his turning still festering and causing others to become uneasy and agitated in his presence from the scent of open flesh.

 

It took nearly another hour to clean and fix the man up in between his rough jerking movements and having to hold himself steady despite the horrid stench coming from the wound. In the end he had to stumble back to the showers and properly decontaminate himself still unsure he’d even succeeded in his task.

 

You can’t save everyone. Just do what you can. Sejanus breathed deeply as he got dressed in a fresh pair of scrubs, reminding himself not to linger too long within his mind when there was work still to do. People who still needed his help.

 

It was easier to regain his bright professional smile when he got back to the hall to see Coriolanus sitting politely in his usual position.

 

“Sorry I’m so late.” Sejanus grabbed the keyring from the small lockbox beside the room, the only copy that could unlock the chains keeping Coriolanus in place. “I’m sure you’re more than ready to get out of here.”

 

Coriolanus just barely shrugged, keeping still while Sejanus moved around to free him from the heavier shackles keeping him from getting up. Usually there was a bar the could be attached to a zombie’s collar to move them at a safe distance, but Sejanus often enough from it cumbersome and unnecessary just to lead one zombie down a few halls and out down the path to the barracks. Certainly not Coriolanus, who even waited for Sejanus to swing open the door for him and shuffled along, barely even needing a hand on his arm to guide him alongside Sejanus as he led the way down along the hall.

 

Once they made it outside Coriolanus stopped moving and Sejanus turned to see him tilting his face up toward the sun with his eyes closed.

 

There were others moving about outside. As much as Sejanus would love to give Coriolanus as much time as he desired to stand freely under the sun the others would surely ask questions about him being off a lead already.

 

“C’mon,” Sejanus murmured, tugging slightly on Coriolanus’s arm. “We gotta get you back to the barracks with the others.”

 

Coriolanus grunted, shuffling more slowly as he looked around with eyes darting from figure to figure of those surrounding them. It didn’t take long until he was pulling back against Sejanus’s grip, trying to slow their progress without causing a full scene.

 

Sejanus sighed. “Listen, if something’s wrong, I can take the mask off once we get inside and no one’s watching, but we can’t stop here.”

 

Coriolanus growled, stopping firmly in his tracks and yanking back on Sejanus’s arm. Even through the mask Sejanus could make out the “No!” between his sharp snarls.

 

“What’s gotten into you?” Sejanus finally looked back, seeing the group of peacekeepers rushing toward him. “He’s fine! He’s not-” Dangerous. Sejanus’s feet fell out from under him as hands wrenched his arms back and left him dropping to his knees on the dusty road.

 

“Medical Officer Plinth.” Commander Hoff’s familiarly cold voice left him shivering and staring down into the dirt, not bothering to hold his breath while he waited to hear his fate. “We’ll be taking you in to answer some questions regarding recent supplies disappearing. I would advise you to remain honest about what information you have regarding this matter.”

 

The disappointment in his voice was easy to hear. Whether he truly felt bad for the fate he knew he was condemning Sejanus to over such a trivial matter or he simply hated to lose one of their few fully trained medical staff hardly mattered when he turned on his heel with little more than a sigh as he signaled to the others.

 

Sejanus cried out at the boot that connected with his spine far too suddenly for him to even brace himself, nearly sending him down into the dirt until the men holding his arms hauled him back up to his feet to drag him along.

 

There was a sharp growl and the others jumped back, someone shouting for a lead while the others were in a scramble to get Coriolanus under control.

 

“Stop!” Sejanus screamed the second he saw one of the others reach for his rifle, wrenching his arms free to push himself forward and reach out toward the zombie. “Coryo, it’s okay. It’s okay, just don’t fight them,” He pleaded before turning to the others. “He’s fine. He’s not going to hurt anyone.”

 

That received a snort from one of the others and Coriolanus continued to growl as a long bar was chained to his mask to lead him away, but he didn’t struggle against the peacekeeper taking him away even as his eyes stayed trained firmly on Sejanus as he relented to allow the others to lead him in the other direction.

 

-

 

‘Questioning’ was even more thorough this time around. Sejanus had lost track of the days without any windows in the small metal cell he was kept in, in far too much pain to sleep since the last officer to stop through hadn’t even bothered to ask who he’d worked with to steal supplies or why before pounding his fist into Sejanus’s face until he heard a satisfying enough crack and kicked him back to the floor.

 

From the count in Sejanus’s head, he had two ribs broken, along with his nose and possibly his wrist. One of his eyes was almost entirely swollen shut and his vision had been blurry since he could remember. Probably a concussion. I’ll be lucky if it’s not internal bleeding too.

 

He’d coughed up blood a few times. It wasn’t looking positive with how determined they were not to accept his innocence.

 

Maybe they finally found something and this is truly it.

 

Not that evidence had truly been required for many of the hangings Sejanus had witnessed take place, but there was some safety in being a difficult officer to replace and being careful never to be caught red-handed in anything.

 

Sejanus tried to hold himself despite the pain ringing through his body, willing himself not to cry again at the realization he would never go home. Never see his parents again or be permitted to tell them why he’d done it. Why he’d had to do it. That he still loved them, even though he’d had to leave.

 

I’m sorry. He sobbed into his arm, thinking of the half-written letter sitting in his lockbox, not having finished his reply to his mother’s latest care package, assuming he would’ve had the time after his shift. Likely it would be tossed with the rest of his things to save on the postage to even send his personal items back to his family.

 

The door creaked and Sejanus winced back instinctively, squinting in hopes of seeing who had come to torment him now but it was only seconds before the world went dark with fabric over his head. He cried out again at the pain of his arms being pulled behind him and tied as he was half dragged out, unable to see where he was going enough to place his feet.

 

It was the noise along with the heat shining down on him that told him they were moving outside, only adding to the pounding of his heart in his chest. This is it. It was only somewhat a relief that the pain would finally be over after so many hours of solid agony, but it was fading on top of the horror building in his stomach at what he knew was about to happen.

 

The bag was dragged off of his head and Sejanus blinked at the sharp sting of sunlight in his eyes after what must have been days of darkness. It was impossible to focus on any of the muffled voices through the ringing in his ears, barely clearing his vision enough to see the rope hanging hauntingly before him.

 

It was the last view he’d ever have, so Sejanus forced himself to focus out before him, seeing the crowd gathered to watch, held back by a row of peacekeepers. Undead, since the living were less reliable to stand emotionless during executions. Even with the helmet and the mask he could still recognize Coriolanus standing at the front with a rifle in his hands, facing out to the crowd with a far less friendly look than Sejanus had grown to know.

 

Still, it was a small comfort in the panic as he was pushed forward to allow the rope to be slipped around his throat that there was one familiar face among the crowd gathered to watch him die. Sejanus tried to swallow only to choke and gasp, unable to stand still as the figure behind him stepped away leaving him struggling in place.

 

“Ma!” He screamed in desperation for the familiar comfort of home, sobbing at the immediate crashing knowledge that she wasn’t there. No one is here for you. He screamed again from rage and hopelessness, only barely seeing the small flash of blue of Coriolanus turning before he heard the lever push and the groan of the trap beneath him. “Coryo!”

 

The trapdoor underneath him dropped. The rope around his neck snapped. His final scream turned into nothing.

 

No one heard his last scream over the cacophony of growls and shouts as one of the peacekeepers set to hold back the crowd stepped out of position, advancing toward the platform and the hanging bodies. Attempts to reach him were stifled by the crowd breaking through the line, taking the attention of the living peacekeepers while Coriolanus stumbled freely toward the hanging bodies.

 

He was gone, leaving behind the mask and bar along with a chewed-off rope, before anyone else got to the platform to stop him. The shot fired off toward the movement seen in the woods only barely grazing a squirrel too curious for its own good. Even for hours after the chaos when the other troublemakers had been rounded together and order established the two remained unfound.

Notes:

Nothing for tomorrow unfortunately, but day after is another werewolf au chapter for the prompt 'Fangs' :D

Notes:

tomorrow's prompt is Aim For The Head which will start off me making this entire weekend about werewolves with the first three chapters of a new fic which most DEFINITELY got away from me on how long it's getting, so stay tuned for that :D

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Kinktober 2024
• Part 32 of The real Plinth Prize (Coryo/Sejanus fics)