Zombies and Botany (Crazy Dave x Left 4 Dead!Reader)

by MonstahEnergeez

Summary:

"Why?! Why plants?! Are you fucking stoned?!" "Wagaga Waboga gobbo!" "What does that mean?!"

What if PVZ met L4D (specifically L4D2 because I am more familiar with that one)? Well, that's what the author thought for this! You, the reader, were from another universe, but after a really bad tank attack costed you more than a few bones, you find yourself awake in another universe with, yep, the same issue as the last one: zombies! So, you grab your gun and do what you can, but an eccentric man tells you that there are other ways to deal with zombies.

(Hoping to make this a two-parter fic!)

Notes:

Okay, I started hyperfixating on Plants Vs Zombies again, so expect a lot more PVZ fics. Also the reason why I made this was because I thought "hey, both of these have zombies in them! I wanna see how someone in the L4D universe deals with PVZ's way of handling zombies!" and also... THE LACK OF CRAZY DAVE x READER FICS??? that is a perfectly good fat, hairy man, AND YOU GUYS ARE SLEEPING ON HIM FOR REAL????

Also, the flashback (and some of Y/N's inner monologuing) is in first person, but the rest of the fic is in third person! :3 (also pvz logic and physics confuses the reader lmao)

Chapter 1: New Neighbor

Summary:

Ah, all stories have a good beginning. Even if those beginnings include broken bones. Y/N awakes in Neighborville after an attack from a Rouge Tank nearly kills them, and soon attempts to adapt to the new wacky neighborhood they now reside in.

(also sorry if it got kinda sucky near the end, I'm not feeling my brightest right now and i'm a lil depressed)

February 2nd, 2009. Exactly 6:23 PM sharp, West of Fairfield, Pennsylvania, USA.

My name is Y/N L/N. I was a hard worker before the infection, having worked as a bouncer at a nightclub. I was good at my job, perpetually the best. But when the infection hit, things had gone down south. The world fell before my eyes, with people scrambling like rats to find whatever supplies to use, people ending the lives of one another, fighting zombies off only to get infected from a zed that they forgot to shoot just six o'clock behind them, and general chaos that was vexatious and merely just a sliver of what the infection had in store for humanity. It wasn't long before I found myself alone, in a barren world full of death and zeds, the world harsh and wanting to hurt me in each and every aspect of the word. That's why I built walls higher than any building and kept on my toes, no matter what.

But as soon as I reached for the gun, with little hope for going on, I had met a small group, one that was willing to help me. A faction of fellow misfits, so to speak. There were not many people in the group, only four people; Coach was a high-school football coach thus his name and why he was good at giving support and advice. Rochelle was a TV show production assistant who was a sharp mind and a silver tongue, she could talk her way out of any situation I swear. Ellis, a mechanic who was a great story teller and a greater friend, he almost welcomed me immediately with a hug and a firm handshake. And then there was... Nick. He was an asshole. He was sarcastic, pessimistic, and kind of self-centered. I was surprised the group kept him alive for as long as they did.

Life was better for the most part, well, for now. But today was gonna become worse than I would have thought. Because today was total bullshit. I was out fighting zombies with the others, trying to achieve the close, tangible goal of leaving Fairfield to a more safe area so that we could discuss possible cures we could forge. Of course, while we thought things were going perfectly fine, there had to be that one part of the day where we would be turned over on our heads and stomped through the rough ground beneath us. Because while I was handling a hoard of infected, I had heard the three most spine chilling words I could have heard from any of my team members, almost a death sentence that the Grim Reaper himself concocted.

"Tank, 12 o'clock!!"

WHAM!!!

I wish I had acted fast enough. I thought this was another one of Nick's terrible attempts to tantalize terror within me, but he was actually serious. I felt the fists of the tank slam into my body, the roar ringing into my ears, a battle cry of damnation and doom. My bones ached as I laid on the ground, my vision fighting betwixt in and out, going from blurry to black, a loop of fear. Was I going to die? That was all I could think of aside from the radiating pain within my destructed body and the sound of guns blaring from the battalion of my team trying to take the tank down. Call me lily-livered all you want, but I was rightfully terrified from what had happened. Apprehended, prone, and bleeding out. What else would you do in that situation?

Eventually, my vision faded. My breathing felt like I was being stabbed with knives repeatedly, so I ceased my breath in hopes that it would simply get better, but I was far from the truth. I knew it wouldn't get better, but rather would keep decaying into the cavern of hell that was agonizing ache, patronizing pain, and a last breath of dying hope. Nobody would save me. I know humans, they would put themselves first, the only person in the team I considered would even have a slim sliver of selfless disposition would have been Ellis, and he was busy trying to keep the infected at bay. But what do I know? Maybe my death would help the team out. After all, Nick had endlessly complained about me, whining and bitching endlessly about how a new member of the team would take up more resources. Damn, even his pessimism reached me. Well done, Nick. Well done.

But, right when I assumed the worst of it all, I felt my bones, no, my entire body shift about, morphing almost. Was this it, was I infected? That was all until the sounds changed. What became gunshots shouting and the relentless roars of the infected who wished to feast upon my team, had became a silence that was almost as dead as I was. Key word: almost. By some miracle, my hearing came back to me, but what was once guns, screams, and growls, was now a more peaceful sound. It was almost placid: birds chirping, leaves dancing and rustling about in the wind. It wasn't long before the sun had awoke me, but when I looked around, everything was bright. No longer was this the desolate, decrepit town of Fairfield, but a foreign sight unbeknownst to me. It was a small neighborhood, a suburbs of sorts.

May 5th, 2009, Around 10:45 AM, Center of Neighborville, Oregon, USA.

Y/N awoke, their eyes throbbing from the sudden brightness of their new surroundings. Green grass that looked almost cartoonish, houses that were well built, trees and plants that felt almost a little too lively. Y/N didn't know where they were, but it sure as hell was not Fairfield. It was more dark, grungy, and grime-filled due to all of the bodily fluids that would splay out of the infected when slain. Y/N muttered in confusion, their own words hard to discern due to how they were still trying to awake fully. Where were they. When were they? This wasn't anywhere they knew. Did they die and go to heaven? Well, that was what they had assumed until they heard a groan, one that was all too familiar.

Low and behold, Y/N's eyes landed on a zombie that trudged around slowly. The zombies were... Slow? Odd. Last time that Y/N could recall was that the infected were fast, almost aggressive. But there was a singular zombie that was slow, molasses in winter levels of slow. Y/N wasn't complaining, however, as they saw opprotunity where fear elsewise would lie. If the infected were slow here, then it could be easier to kill all of them off! Y/N smiled, taking hold of opprotunity's blade to pierce the heart of the zed in front of them. With no hesitation, Y/N took out their revolver, blasting at the zed. But when they expected splatters of red or black, blood or mysterious sickly bile, there was nothing.

Instead, the zed had holes in its torso, as if it were swiss cheese rather than flesh and bone. The zombie looked at its torso, more confused rather than anything Y/N would have expected: no screams of agonizing pain from the burn, no bullets digging into the zed's skin, just holes and a whole lot of unsure uncertainty. Y/N only groaned in annoyance, continuing to blast at the zombie as it limped away. But alas, just as in the last universe, Y/N's eyes were sharp daggers, aiming straight for the zombie's head as it soon fell into the bushes, presumed dead due to its injuries. Y/N pumped their fist, innately impressed with how despite the lack of blood or unwell bile, they still killed a zombie. Just like the o;d days, in a sense: now whole heartedly the same, but just enough to satiate Y/N's natural instinct.

But the joy subsided, vanquished by curiosity. They heard something. A thwunking noise, like something being shot out of a cheap plastic cannon, or something being shot out at a moderate pace. It wasn't a gun, that was for certain. It was too quiet to be gunshots, but it was audible enough for Y/N to discern where it came from: the house next door. Y/N took a glance, noticing a green plant of sorts that was blasting green balls from a mouth-like hole on it. It looked alive, almost cartoonishly so with how it would blink, sway, even when it cheered it sounded like a kazoo. There were a few other plants, such as sunflowers that danced and dropped small, glowing orbs of light, giant wallnuts that stared unblinkingly, potatoes with antanae like landmines... It certainly was a feverish, almost surreal sight. Only one thing was on Y/N's mind: what the fuck was this place?

Y/N wasted no time. They had to investigate, so they kept their stance low, sneaking about and crouched in what little shadows there were, a ninja in a fun fair, to put it in a way. For all Y/N knew, more zeds could be about, so time was of the essence: if they were to take too long, some faster ones were sure to come get them. They ducked and dodged, rolled and ran, they zigged one way, zagged the other, zipping around the neighborhood like a hummingbird. Hummingbird... That was what Ellis used to call them, before they landed in wherever they were; Ellis always was one for friendly nicknames. Y/N would always miss those stories, even if the rest of the group wanted Ellis to shut up, for those stories brought joy and whimsy into a dark and decrepit land that drained any brightness, any hope from the soul, a light within a sea of myriads and sorrows.

But as Y/N reminiscenced the past, their rumination was cut short when their eyes landed on a large, ornate sign, just near the edge of the neighborhood. "Welcome to Neighborville, Oregon! Population: 254!" was written in fanciful white font, and just beyond it was a more purple-tinted, mechanical zone that Y/N wished to explore, but abstained from doing so. Another sign was near the one in Neighborville, but it was moreso near the purple colored landscape of the brutal, mechanical zone that caught Y/N's eye. "Welcomb 2 Zomburbeea!! Popyulazhun: a lot. (And we want ur brainz)." was written in crude writing with messy paint across a painstakingly low quality wooden picket sign, designed with little eloquence and much error. Even the spelling alone gave Y/N a migraine. Who even spells population like that?! Even a toddler could make a better sign.

Y/N jolted at the sudden feeling of something on their shoulder, a hand that was large and slightly calloused had tapped on them, causing a surge of panic to rise in Y/N. Swiftly, they spun around, pulling their revolver out and pointing it at the person behind them in a deterrent manner. Y/N had gotten used to defending themselves from any infected with violence, so they ended up with a 'shoot now, ask later' morality, however, what they saw caused them to hesitate slightly with shooting their target. For as they had turned around, a curious sight caused them to lower their gun and tilt their head. What they saw behind them was not a zombie, but rather a fellow human!

He was only a little bit taller than Y/N, standing at a similar height as Ellis, so the man was about 5'8" (give or take a few inches) and was fairly chubby: Y/N was surprised that the zeds didn't make a snack of this man. He had ginger hair that hid under a kitchen pot that adorned the top of his head like it were a regular hat, his beard was scraggly and unkempt. In fact, the man was simply hairy all over, if you were to shave him clean then you could have a nice winter coat. The man wore a white button-up shirt, blue jeans, a belt, and some brown sneakers. His eyes gazed at Y/N, pitch black and seldom blinking. Y/N was still on tenterhooks, uneasy building up in their body and wishing to project from their throat in insults, or from their hands in violence.

"Frobble tobble! Waggaie gawabbo bababo hawewawoh!" The man jabbered, the words coming out as nothing but pure gibberish.

Y/N didn't understand. The man didn't look infected, yet he was showing signs of losing cognitive dialect. "... What?" Y/N asked, deciding to test the man, to see if he would in fact speak a language that Y/N spoke.

The man soon cleared his throat, coughing a bit before firmly nodding his head. "Ah, my apologies! Most people don't understand me sometimes... Anyways, howdy, Neighbor! I'm Crazy Dave! But you can call me Crazy Dave!"

The man smiled widely, his teeth slightly oblique and uneven, but his general aura was welcoming. He greeted Y/N with a firm handshake, something that could be admired in any first meeting. He, however, emanated a sort of eccentric energy from himself. Y/N looked at Crazy Dave, eyes narrowed as they analyze him. He did not carry any weapons, only item on him that could be postulated to possibly be a weapon was the lonesome pot on his head, but even then, Y/N had their doubts. For all that Y/N knew, that man could be hiding a nasty zombie bite and he could be infected. But then again, nobody could have turned that quickly and still looked human, not within Fairfield, at least! But this wasn't Fairfield, and that new chaos frightened Y/N the most.

Crazy Dave, huh? That's what this guy goes by? I suppose that fits, considering he spoke total gibberish the first few seconds of us meeting. If it weren't for him speaking English as quickly as I asked 'what', he would have been a corpse. He looks nice, but I know people, just as I said before. He probably got that name for doing some sick, twisted shit that he's covering up with this neighborly facade. I know you, Dave! Even if I don't, I know you! You're hiding something, and I'll find it, I'm like a bloodhound for secrets: I'm going to sniff all of your secrets out when you least expect it, then BAM!! Gun to the head. But then again, you seem too nice for your own good, naive at best, a guileless guy to say the least. Geez, Nick would have hated your guts... Ellis would have loved you, though.

But one thing matters: trust is earned, not given. I'm not gonna fall into your neighborly act just because you seem nice. If you so much as cause me to become an infected zed, or even betray me in the slightest, expect all hell to break loose. Be glad that I am NOT saying any of this out loud, because I'd be way more vile with my words than I am now. It doesn't matter what you were before the apocalypse, it doesn't matter what you are now. As long as you don't cross me in a bad way, your fate won't be twice as terrible than whatever you do to me. I may be alone, but I'm not a dummy.

Y/N's inner monologue was truthful in a sense: they were never virulent in any sense on purpose, but they were only venomous and mean as a defensive mechanism, a kind dog biting at someone who had hurt it badly. They didn't know why they bite, but they didn't ask or look further into the damaged rubble within themselves. They looked at Dave, their eyes burned with analytic ire, a combatant stance ready to either dash into fight or fall into flight. Crazy Dave, meanwhile, was looking into Y/N's eyes with a kindness that matched his eccentric nature. He liked Y/N! He saw them as a friend, even if they were a bit mean, and he wanted to have Y/N feel welcomed within Neighborville, to introduce them to the plants and just help them survive in general!

Dave grabbed the gun from Y/N, analyzing it. The silver metal of the revolver danced with reflective light of the sun, the handle was made of sanded wood, a red cloth tied around the handle of the revolver. He examined closely, before looking at Y/N, his tone still welcoming yet wild. "Wow! This is outdated!"

"Outdated?!" Y/N asked, scoffing as they grabbed their gun back roughly, stuffing it away. Y/N rolled their eyes, their anger twirling in their mind, swirling like smoke from a house fire. "What makes you say that? Because I use a revolver doesn't mean that my gun is outdated!"

Oh, okay! Mr. Hot-Shit wants to tell me that my gun is outdated! That's really rich. You don't even have a gun, Dave! You'd wake up with a zombie munching on you, and you probably wouldn't care. No wonder why they call you Crazy, you're out here saying that guns are outdated and wearing kitchenware on your head! What's next, are you gonna tell me that unicorns are real? That you didn't need to go to the psych ward? That any rehab you went to was bullshit on whatever ganja or shrooms you were on? I swear, whatever you're gonna say next better be good or I'll shoot you dead right here and right now.

Y/N couldn't help but feel their face grow heated from the inferno of irritation within their body forming. Why would Dave say something like that, anyways? Guns were the best defense against zeds, better than any adrenaline shot that Y/N had taken to beat up zeds with their bare hands. A good gun was like a good car: if treated well, then there will be so much payback for it. But Y/N was confused by Dave's words. What even made Y/N's gun outdated in his words? Sure, it wasn't anything like a modern day gun, it was no AK-47, but it worked just as good as any other gun. As long as it got the zeds deader than dead, that was good enough. The revolver was Y/N's ol' reliable, it was simple, with little complications and such.

But Dave simply shook his head, like a father that knew his kids would as a question they weren't ready for yet. He still had a smile on his face, kind yet energetic, just like him at his core. He held Y/N's hand, leading them as he dashed off wildly. Y/N didn't really struggle, culling the option of just following Crazy Dave rather than just pulling away and swearing out his bloodline or something more harsh. Y/N had to give him a chance, at least for one time only. After all, maybe he wasn't that bad: maybe he made bigger, stronger guns that were better than any current modern gun! Or maybe an invention that slayed zombies effortlessly and with typhoon swiftness! There was a bit of hope that maybe Crazy Dave wasn't as crazy as he was made out to be...

But alas, like all good things, Y/N's hopes were a bug under the foot of truth. What Y/N saw was underwhelming, for the sight of a lawn with plants on it was all they had seen. Sure, it was the same, oddly living plants from earlier, but were the plants truly alive? They were only plants! There was no real reason to think they were alive even if they did seem to have eyes and mouths like people did. Y/N's smile faltered back into the resting bitch face they always adorned onto their features, their eyebrows furrowed slightly as they looked at the plants that bobbed and swayed on the lawn. There was no way that this was what Dave wanted to introduce them to. Plants? Really? THAT was the major thing Dave wanted to show them? It was ridiculous, truly something that someone who'd dare to be stupid would do: using plants rather than guns or bombs or even a simple knife.

"Guns have been outdated for a while! We use the power of botany to fend off zombies!" Dave explained, jolly and crazy as ever.

Y/N blinked slowly, processing Dave's words in their head, repeating it like a mantra that flew right over their head. But it still made little to no sense, with how he managed to put those phrases together. It wasn't long before Dave picked up a potted plant, presenting it as if it were the best invention since Adderall and the SMG gun. It was a small, green plant with beady black eyes full of wonder and whimsy, it could only cheer with an aptly gratified tone. It sounded like a kazoo. Y/N yelped slightly at the plant's excited nature, their brain short-circuited before they looked closer at the plant. This was weird, the plant was alive! Like, blinking and making noises kind of alive. Where with Y/N's old group something like a living plant would have been shot at, here in this topsy-turvy place, it was praised and upheld for the standard of safety.

"Here! This is a peashooter! It's name is a pretty good explanation for what it does! Try putting it on your lawn, neighborino! I also gave you a few extra plant seeds attached to the plant pot, go coconuts with it!" Dave encouraged Y/N, pointing to the empty lawn of the house Y/N was near.

Y/N didn't even live there, but nobody did. It was an empty house, up for grabs. Y/N could take it, but they were certainly perplexed. They looked at the plant, noticing how it behaved like a dog, or at bare minimum a pet. Did Y/N need to change its soil and water it like any other plant or could it do all of that by itself? Did it understand English, or was what anyone said unable to be deciphered by whatever was equal to ears but for plants? Many questions raced within Y/N' mind before their train of thought was cut off by a familiar 'thwunk' sound leaving the Peashooter's mouth as it aimed at a zombie, the green masses of pea leaving its mouth like a type of large bullet and hitting the zed with efficiency. And soon, the undead walker was slain, the Peashooter celebrating with a few whoops and happy waving of leaves.

Y/N placed the plant down onto their lawn, allowing the Peashooter to just continue its job of slaying the undead. It was effective, to Y/N's surprise. But still, in Y/N's eyes, it was not as effective as a good ol' fashioned gun. But still, it was a cute little decoration to adorn their newfound lawn. The Peashooter was joyous, whimsical, almost a piece of Dave that Y/N had on their lawn. They felt bitterly sentimental towards it, wanting to care for the plant as if it were their own, despite Y/N being built up as a cold and hard soul of rock and mystery. It was annoying that they found themself enjoying something so small, so cute! And it being a gesture of kindness, a gift of neighborly generosity? Did Y/N not learn that ruthlessness was mercy upon themselves? That it was every man for themselves, even when in a team?! People were selfish, but Dave... He was different, and that annoyed Y/N near and dear to their heart.

Oh, I see! You're pretending to be different so that you can lull me into a false sense of security while we sing Kumbaya, only for you to stab me in my back when I least expect it! Well guess what, Dave, if that even is your real name: I'm smart. I follow my brain, and not my feelings! All of that stuff gets bottled up like hard liquor. You think you won this little conversation we had just because I accepted your little botanous gift, eh? No, far from it. You might have won the battle, but I will be the one who wins the war. Trust, you will be dealt with!

Silence hung between the two people, the energies mingled together in an awkward blend that was palpable from plant, human, and zombie senses: the lingering reticence from Y/N with their unease and distrust of Dave from many near fatal encounters back in Fairfield, along with the benevolent and kindhearted, albeit chaotic and inept personage that Dave brandish proudly like a banner into war... Dave was friendly, the kind of thing that was foreign to Y/N entirely. Y/N didn't know how to be friendly towards those who weren't within her previous group, since they were the one who was the defensive offense in case the group needed a bodyguard. If anything, social talk was more of Rochelle's thing, and sure maybe Nick's thing, but Nick used his charm for bad rather than good. Not that it mattered, since Y/N was no longer with their group anymore.

Soon, night fell upon the neighborhood, the silver light of the moon cascaded down upon lawns and buildings with utmost resplendence, the elegant light dancing among the sleeping leaves of the plants, enchanting the defensive choreography of the mushrooms that fought zombies with coordinated cordiality. Y/N was casing their new home, looking through rooms for any signs of rotted flesh or desires to eat brains. To their luck, a lack of zeds was within the newly found house of theirs, as they sat on the bed in the bedroom, the mattress dipping underneath the weight of their body. The room was desolate, the placid nature was dead, not like the dead of zombies, but the dead of a dying emotion of sorts. Y/N could only feel their rage and qualms melt away, butter in the sunny disposition of their neighbor as they recalled the day's events.

Y/N remembered everything, from the soft, scraggly beard on Dave's face, his energetic and wild smile, even when he spoke gibberish was somewhat adorable to Y/N. Why were they thinking about him in such a way? In a form that was far from the cold, wall-like mask that Y/N had built for months, maybe even years, why was it just now were they feeling a warm fire burning within their chest around Dave? Among the memories of fighting off hunters, boomers, and even a tank or two that didn't desecrate Y/N's bones, the recollection of Nick's sarcasm, Coach's grand life advice, even Ellis' stories that Y/N enjoyed, nothing really compared to Crazy Dave. He was forsooth and undoubtedly nuts, sure, but there was something more under the surface: mostly the plants. How could someone attain botanical weapons such as the Peashooter? Did Dave make the plants himself? Maybe there was a method underneath all the madness, and Y/N wanted to find out.

Y/N sighed, laying down on their mattress with a gentle 'boomf' as they fell unto the bed, staring at the ceiling as their mind's pathway shifted from professional to more affectionate. Dave was nice, to put it in the minimum. He was nothing but nice to Y/N, even if Y/N bared her fangs at the innocent man: he offered them defenses, shown nothing but neighborly care for Y/N, even speaking English when they couldn't understand his jibber-jabber that made no sense. Hell, Dave looked kind of good in Y/N's eyes! The scraggly hair on his head and face, the chubby stature, the way his hands were calloused with literal green thumbs from a while of gardening and botanical experimentation, even the outfit was unique and stood out to Y/N: Dave wore it all with a smile of light and a heart of gold. That was what truly stuck in Y/N's head! Y/N sighed, the thought of Dave lingering in their mind, unable to be washed away or shaken off like any other memoir of a person. He wasn't that good, right?

At least that is what Y/N said to themselves, but the image of Dave kept appearing in their mind like a curse unbroken. 

May 5th, 2009, Exactly 9:27 PM, Center of Zomburbia in Zomboss' Lair, Oregon, USA.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN A HUMAN SHOT YOU?!"

A loud, scratching voice echoed in the lab, as the simple zombie trembled before the monitor, holes in its torso and a frown on its face. The voice came from the monitor, showcasing a zombie that was shorter than the others, but his head was noticeably larger than the average zed. He also wore a lab coat, gloves, and combat boots, an outfit that was vastly a contrast from the simplistic brown coats and blue slacks average zombies wore. This was the head honcho of the zombies, Dr. Edgar George Zomboss. Yes, that was his full name, but he just went by Dr. Zomboss. He was the leader of the zombies, short fused yet intelligent. He was livid due to how one of his lackeys had gotten shot by a gun rather than a plant. He was surprised, perplexed that someone used a gun rather than plants like how most people in Neighborville would. Who would even use a gun?

"Braiiiiiiiiinz..." The brown-coat groaned, shrugging. The human just shot him!

Dr. Zomboss sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose that had long fallen off and withered away like a tale long forgotten, growing irritable at the impotence of his minion. "You're as useful as a plastic knife, I hope you know that... Go get yourself patched up, you imbecile! I'll devise a plan to handle this 'gun-slinger' once dawn arrives. Now GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Dr. Zomboss barked, as the brown-coat zombie obeyed, dashing off quickly with limping following it in suit. Dr. Zomboss groaned, a sight leaving his rotting lips.

He pulled out a pair of binoculars, his eyes looking through the glasses as he scouted around the town of Neighborville, looking through at the buildings and streets. Zomboss analyzed through lawns of plants and mushrooms alike, a certain sight striking his vision: while most people were asleep or close to the state of soft slumber, one human had their eyes open within the dark of the night as they swung their gun within one hand, the other one rested under their head as H/C hair was strewn onto the pillow with little to no abandon. So that was the human with the gun? Interesting... Zomboss took note of it all, setting a reminder to destroy that pesky fleshbag for harming his minions in such an intensive and reckless manner!

Soon, tomorrow morning in fact, he's going to have a friendly 'chat' with that human, yes indeed...

Chapter 2: The Confession

Summary:

Y/N talks with Dave a bit, asking about his past and looking further into his inventions, but an encounter from Dr. Zomboss interrupts them, and in the heat of the aftermath of fighting the head honcho of the zombies, Y/N ends up accidentally saying something deep in their mind

Notes:

someone remind me to put accidental confessions in the tags, author-kun is too lazy to do so themselves right now. 1_1

May 10th, 6:30 AM sharp, center of Neighborville, Oregon, USA.

Early in the morning, Y/N arose from a tender slumber that they had long missed, for back in Fairview the uprise in the Green Flu and the number of infected lead to Y/N having to stay up longer and sleep for shorter hours in order to guard their group with a close eye. But when it came to being in Neighborville, they were able to rest peacefully. They were not in need of having to traverse through the shadows, depriving themeself of sleep, or having to scout the area for zombies before resting. Even while they slept, no interruptions would intercept their slumber. The full eight hours... Y/N assumed that it was only a myth, but now that they had went through such blissful rest in person, they knew it was real.

But that was enough pondering on the night prior to the morning, for Y/N knew not to dwell on the past. After all, dwelling on anything would lead to distractions, desires to join those who had long passed, or something else that would lead into irresponsible actions. Besides, the past no longer mattered, Y/N had to rivet their rigid thoughts onto the present rather than how well they slept or their life before. They had to ask Crazy Dave about the plants, about why he was the way he ended up, everything! Y/N was vastly curious about Dave, but not because they liked him, no! At least that is what Y/N told themselves constantly when the thought of Dave would lure into their mind like a snake, wrapping around them and keeping tight hold onto their thoughts. Sometimes, Dave was the only thing that Y/N would end up thinking about. It was lovingly pestiferous, a dent in the hard armor that Y/N built up for years on end that caused the stone-cold survivor to smile at the most minimal thought of Dave. Y/N forced any of that soft, sappy romance they felt for Dave deep down and away.

They quickly dressed themselves in a simple shirt, vest, jeans, and combat boots: something they always wore in Fairview. It was a familiar outfit, one that brought comfort and easy movement onto Y/N's frame. Y/N also found out something else, that they had a lot more time than beforehand within the town of Fairview. They weren't running about scavenging for supplies, they didn't scramble away from gaggles of infected, they were just there in their house. It was rather quiet as well, with minimal reverberation from a zombie hoard that echoed growls and screams, minimal shouts of fright and terror echoed in the streets. It was a decent morning for once in their life. Y/N decided to try something new, something foreign to them: making a breakfast meal that they long eliminated from their life, circumvented in place for a single granola bar or something small and light.

Y/N managed to grab hold of their ingredients: they gathered some flour, some sugar a cup of milk, two eggs, a handful of chocolate chips, a handful of mixed berries, and a pinch of both baking powder and baking soda. All of it combined and cooked on a buttered pan created some delicious choco-chip and mixed-berry pancakes, the smell wafted around the house with the grace and eloquence of a ballerina. Y/N enjoyed the sweet flavor, the softness of the pancakes felt heavenly, a blanket that wrapped around every one of their taste buds. It was a tender hug that Y/N had longed for, a yearning that was satiated with a concentrated sweetness that held Y/N dearly.

Shaking their head and  deciding not to focus on the goodness of the homely meal they were indulging in, Y/N had set off to talk with Crazy Dave. After all, it was good, but it was far from the current objective that Y/N had pondered about executing the evening prior: Y/N shouldn't be cordial with such a distraction such as good pancakes or a quiet morning. After all, nothing good lasts forever, they would know after concurring cataclysm conditioned them to be used to chaos back in Fairview during the outbreak. Y/N, with slacked diligence and cold demeanor, rose from the table and cleaned their plate. They had to focus on the important stuff: Dave. What he did, the plants he mentioned, every lingering thought that raced in Y/N's mind that didn't land in the category of sickeningly affectionate. For what it was worth, Y/N wanted to keep this inquisition of innate curiosity at a strict professional level, for any sloven or dawdling in romantic thought was frowned upon.

It wasn't long before they were outside, the sun dancing down and warming up Y/N's skin in a manner that would satisfy even the most solemn, sorrowful soul, soothing any anxiety like a balm of the gods. The grass was a luscious green, the sky a pale blue that was reminiscent of better times that Y/N slowly recalled before the Green Flu outbreak, before they got hit by that tank... They observed their lawn adorned with plants that would protect them from zombies of any sort, a stark contrast to the grey,  lifeless streets that they once lived in within Fairview. There were no zombies out, at least for the time being, the quiet was serene, almost magical, like a movie setting from something that Y/N would have watched as a kid. But Y/N's thoughts were cut short, for the sound of a familiar neighbor popping in from out of the bushes.

"HEYA, Y/N!!"

"Ah! Jeez, Dave... You nearly gave me a heart attack, give me a warning next time!" Y/N scolded, their expression more gentle than normal.

Looking at Dave, they knew that their neighbor was just happy to see them, like an excited puppy seeing their human return from a long excursion. why did they do that? Why did Y/N simply scold him for appearing out of nowhere? They wanted to apologize, but looking at him, Y/N noticed that Dave wasn't hurt. Not even a little bit scuffed! His charcoal black eyes had shown little sorrow or resentment within his soul, as if the chaotic whimsy and joy within his essence were impenetrable. Y/N didn't want to act too soft, despite knowing how accepting and sweet Dave was. Why wouldn't they allow themselves to unmask the cold stone that hid the warm heart underneath? Y/N was afraid that Dave would betray them, that he would show a voluntary desire to stab Y/N both in the back and in the heart.

I wanna trust him. Truly and genuinely, I do. He's so nice to me, almost as nice as Ellis... But I still don't feel like I can trust him just yet. After all, with zombies roaming about, people will do almost anything, I know because I've seen people hurt each other back in Fairview, betraying friends, lovers, even the kin of their blood or soul just for survival. However, Dave is just too nice, he wouldn't do that, right? Maybe if I ask him more about himself, I won't have to worry about him stabbing me in my sleep... actually no, he doesn't seem like a stabber. Dave would probably poison my food, that way it'd hurt us both less. Ah, what do I know? I barely know a thing about this nutjob! This hairy, scruffy, silly, sunny... Enjoyable, adorable... AH! Stop it, Y/N, he's just a guy! He could kill you right here if he wanted to!

Y/N snapped out of their thoughts, their E/C eyes sparkling as they looked at Dave once again determined to know more about their crazy neighbor. After all, why else would they be thinking about him consistently? Their normal thoughts were drowned out with noting but Dave, Dave, and more Dave! It was an utter annoyance to be thinking about someone constantly in such a manner, frivolous even! Y/N lets their walls down slightly, allowing some lenience with Dave. After all, it's not every day that someone would give you plants that would fend off zombies for you, so Y/N had decided to give Dave the benefit of the doubt, and just hope he was just as pure of heart as he was caring and considerate.

"I wanted to talk about... You. Specifically I want to get to know you better." Y/N explained in an alacritous manner, a cheetah in the manner of swift speed, but a feather in sense of gentle and soft handling.

"Sure thing, neighbor! I won't mind you askin' me anything! I do got all day after all, I'm not dealing with any zombies or squirbos, so let the questions commence!" Dave avowed, his arms crossed over his chest as he stood tall with confidence, a bright smile on his face. He was unshakable, a pillar of hope in a desolate state of the world. "By the way, your eyes look different! Real sparkly like old bottlecaps, real pretty-like. Something on your mind?"

Y/N quickly scoffed, their face heating up warm and toasting their skin into a bright, more pigmented flavor prior to their normal face. They were blushing. Y/N had never blushed before, so Dave had accomplished something that no other human ever had. Y/N didn't want to confess it, but they wouldn't want to stress it. They did have something, or rather someone on their mind, and it was the very man that was right in front of them, however they would rather get stuck into a wood chipper than ever admit that verbally. Why? They didn't want to get hurt, and not just in the physical sense: aside from physical rudeness, people could be rude with words. Take Nick for example, Y/N hated them because he was always pessimistic, sleazy, everything that most people hated! Not to mention how people in general could be mean, even with rejection people had shown no mercy. Dave would be no exception to Y/N's caution.

"N-No! I was just distracted." Y/N changed the subject, denying that they were in fact thinking of Crazy Dave as they shook their head, an attempt to shake those thoughts from their memories. "Now, about those questions, what I want to know first was something I had on my mind since we first met: those plants... Did you make them?"

"I did! But I sold the production rights years ago!" Dave explained, his smile still just as sunny as the sky above them, the light shining down on the two, a spotlight that focused the two people.

The fact that he simply gave away the rights had intrigued Y/N, the words poked at their brain in a manner that provoked a hidden-away need to dig deeper. They were mole, digging further into the surface of Crazy Dave. After all, he made things that were absolutely genius: plants that could fend off zombies at any time, practically military grade! But instead of handing the plant production off to the military or making more of the plants himself, Dave sold the rights away. Why? Y/N had considered that maybe Dave was just tired, and wanted someone else to take the reins. After all, it wasn't every day that someone was smart enough to make something so incredible. Even if they weren't the most sane person, Dave exhibited some form of brighter thoughts, a creativity that flows with the fluidity of water. And with all honesty? It was admirable.

Y/N simply nodded, "Interesting. Dave, is there anything else about you I should know?" Y/N inquired, tilting their head. "Anything important at all, you can tell me."

"Well," Dave started off, scratching his head under the cooking pot that lay on top of it like a helmet. "For starters, I like gardening and inventin' things, as you know already. It's not only the plants I made, but I also made a sentient RV robot, her name's Penny! I used to be called the Fog Man, cus' I'd jump out of the fog and YELL AT PEOPLE!! Heheheh, good times those were! Oh! I have a niece, her name's Patrice and I'm really proud of her one of the smartest in her class, just like her uncle Dave! I'm allergic to cats, I have a pet pig named Twister, I was into disco for a short time before I broke my leg-bone, I eat food off the floor, I made up my own language called Dave-Speak, I'm thirty-six years and a football season old! Oh, and I dunno if this is interesting or not, but I am single for the picking!"

Y/N smiled, giggling a bit. He was rambunctious, but rather engaging company for all the right reasons. From Y/N's actively idle observation, they could tell that Dave was a good man, despite the flaw of being ludicrous and mad: he was a family man in a sense due to his statement of being proud for his niece, he was smart enough to make his own language even if it sounded like gibberish that not even the most nonsensical of people could decide, which made it something just as complex as the ciphers used to hide darkest secrets, he cared for animals, he knew engineering... He even had a good immune system! Sure, the fact he ate food off the floor in that of a manner equal to a stray dog was odd, but by God was it a way to build up disease immunity! Maybe there was a method to the madness?

And then, there was that last chunk of words that clogged up the interest like a bad trip to a taco shop. Dave said he was single. That was both the good, and the bad! Y/N liked that Dave was single, because that would mean no guilt would blossom between the two that would wither the affable relationship they would have if they were to court one another. However, with him saying he was single, Y/N had a feeling that Dave assumed, or more accurately perceived Y/N's active interest in him, which was something that Y/N had not felt ready to elaborate upon yet. If they confessed too soon, then everything would combust into hellish fire, an inferno of ruin due to inconsiderate action within a wrong area and during the wrong time. Maybe Dave liked them back, maybe he did not. It was a risk that had no method to calculate exactly. And Y/N knew from the past that risks were something not to be taken.

Why's he telling me this?! Why would he tell me that he was single? I get that would be something important in a dating scene, but that's not what's going on right now! I was just asking about him in general, not his love life! I like him, but not like that! Well, I do mean like that, but that's not fucking important right now! Ugh... Jeez, Y/N, you became a real big mess after that tank hit you. Maybe you might be just as crazy as Dave is over here, Y/N. After all, it won't be long before people drag you away while you're rambling and yelling total gibberish like he was.

"A-All that sounds nice, but you didn't need to tell me about you being single, dammit! I'm not interested in dating." Y/N denied, their face all flushed as they hid it in their hand only letting their sparkly E/C eyes be seen, gems within the gentle sunlight.

"Well that's perfectly a-o-good, neighborino!" Dave affirmed, accepting Y/N's choice, even if it were only a mask to hide their true feelings for Dave.

It wasn't long however, that their peace would soon be disturbed, interrupted by a seemingly unmovable force that would terrify most, frighten some, but would shock Y/N. For the ground shook beneath them as an impending doom approached. Chaos and panic lingered in the air, the aura of the once friendly neighborhood was overshadowed when the sunlight was covered in dark shadows, making it feel as if the whole world had went dark. It wasn't long for the two neighbors to accumulate their thoughts in a collective agreement that something was wrong, utterly and indubitably worrisome to think of, let alone acknowledge the fact that there was a much bigger threat that would soon consume them both. For the threat was a cat, and they were merely mice.

A laugh echoed through the air, a warning of the monster that were soon to attack. Or rather, the leader of the zombies who would attack. For when Dave looked up, he recognized the face instantly. If it weren't for the bulging brain within the zombie's head, he would have thought it were another regular Zed. Another undead giveaway would be the outfit: the lab coat, the slick black slacks, and the professional-level polished loafers were all too familiar for Dave when he saw them. Even the eyes, the rotted, crooked teeth that came together to form that wicked grin that shown nothing but malice, evil, and a hunger for power that would never be satiated, that vicious greed in his eyes were smoldering with a calculated glare.

It was Dr. Zomboss.

But Y/N had not seen the zombie-leader, they did not see a hyper-intelligent zombie, but rather the gigantic mechanical machine he managed. It was a huge robot, almost like one of those mech-suits that Y/N recalled from a Saturday-morning show that they watched when they were younger. The robot was entirely metallic, and it looked like some sort of Frankenstein model of creation. It had blue legs, a brown torso, green arms, just like a regular zombie. The creation had a red attachment that connected the head of the robot to its torso, tubes on the back, wires in the joints, even antane on the sides of the head. The teeth of the machine were sharp, threatening to look at, its eyes glowed a menacing shade of yellow, Y/N noticed that a similar yellow light emit from the mouth as well, which made the whole mechanism all the more foreboding. There was an opening within the head of the mechanical monster to show a smaller figure, controlling the robot.

It wasn't long before the robot lowered itself so that the two humans could get a good gaze at the mastermind behind anything and everything relating to the zombies, their commander and the smartest of all Zombies. Zomboss looked between the two neighbors, noticing that Y/N felt their fear dissipate when they saw how natural he was. Y/N was more afraid of the robot than him, how interesting. A different reaction than most would have, that was for certain. This new person was interesting, whoever they were. He would love to keep them in his lab to study them further: after all, it wasn't average for someone to relinquish their fear at the sight of Zomboss himself, but they quake in their boots once the Zombot was involved.

"So, you're the unprecedented sharp-shooter I've heard about! I know of you, since you shot one of my minions. Nevertheless, I must admire your skill, newcomer. Perhaps, an offer of alliance is in order, is it not? For I, Dr. Edgar George Zomboss, have an offer for you! We can both take over this wretched little town, partners in crime! What say you, my gun-wielding little- ACK!!"

With typhoon swiftness, Y/N grabbed him by his shoulders and slammed the zombie onto the ground with a harsh thud. Y/N took no time making the situation of cat and mouse turn over on Dr. Zomboss' head. Y/N didn't like that this random zombie wanted Y/N to turn on Dave, someone that Y/N actually liked, it boiled their blood with ire and rage, an inferno of anger that spread throughout their body. Vexation had besieged the better of their thoughts, because normally Y/N would have taken Rochelle's advice on trying to communicate first before attacking, or at least try to. Instead, they decided that they needed to teach Zomboss a lesson. Even if it was a bit more violent than they wished it to be due to how Dave was right next to them.

Y/N tumbled with Zomboss in their grasp as Zomboss tried to struggle away from the blows of their hands, the flogging feeling like rocks hit him time and time again. Dave watched, he wasn't horrified and he didn't see Y/N any differently. In fact, he was silently cheering Y/N on, his heart fluttering in his chest. Oh, he loved it! Y/N was usually so quiet and reserved, but they were showing some form of emotion, and Dave liked seeing that! He loved that Y/N was defensive, and it showed something that they would never verbally admit: that they care. They cared deeply, and Dave enjoyed that fact. The secret was revealed, that Y/N had good intentions, that they would side with the part of Neighborville that wants to repair rather than destroy.

"Listen here, Zom-brat," Y/N hissed, grabbing Zomboss by the collar of his lab coat. "I already have someone I work with, someone that I like... Hell, someone I love! And I won't let you or anyone convince me to turn on Crazy Dave, got that? So take your toy robot, and get outta here before I make you wish you stayed dead."

Zomboss was thrown back into his mechanical robot before a bullet was shot, grazing the air near him by a hair and hitting the metal of the Zombot, denting it. Y/N held their gun, taking aim. That was merely a warning shot. Y/N could leave Zomboss dead where he stand, but they wanted to have Zomboss remember Y/N's warning, a memory that would haunt the scientist for decades to come. He wouldn't rest easy knowing that a keen eye and a violent nature such as Y/N would willingly wreak havoc onto him, a storm of ire and contempt that would destroy his army and robots and leave nothing in their wake, would just be in Neighborville. They would protect it fiercely, more than any Chomper or Doomshroom that would grace the lawns.

Before anyone could say anything, Zomboss left, the mechanical robot suit leaving the neighborhood in a clunky, yet quit manner. He took no time dawdling, he knew when he had to leave. Y/N stood upright, cracking their knuckles and letting out a huff of condensed air that was long hidden away. It wasn't long before Y/N's warning rung within Dave's ear, the way they spoke to Zomboss was rather intriguing. They were protective of Dave, caring for him and Neighborville like it was a part of them. And did they say that they have someone they love there?! And then he recalled: nothing would make Y/N turn on him. Did Y/N like him?! Crazy Dave felt the dots connect, the warmth in his heart burst like a hotdog in the microwave.

"Y/N, you love me?!" He asked, utterly elated at the fact that Y/N did in fact love him.

It then hit Y/N that they accidentally revealed how they felt for Crazy Dave. A shrill shriek left Y/N's face as they felt sweat from on their palms and the back of their neck. Fuck. How did they let that slip by them?! How did they not catch themself before blurting that out?! Embarrassment hit Y/N like a truck, harder than any punch and faster than any car they had seen. If Y/N knew one thing, it would be that they wouldn't let themself live this down if they were to be rejected. Of course, another thing they knew was that Nick wouldn't let them live it down either, but Nick was now a distant memory due to how far away Neighborville probably was from Fairview.

"E-Eh?! What, no I didn't say anything about loving you! I-If anything we're only acquaintances!" Y/N denied, their face growing with a blanket of blush that they turned their head away to hide.

"But you said that nothing would convince you to turn on me, you even said that you have someone you love!" Dave recalled, still just as excited and joyful as ever.

Y/N scowled, crossing their arms over their chest. Dammit, he's good. If they wanted to deter any further call-outs from Crazy Dave, they would need to just keep on denying until he gave up. But Dave was unshakable. He heard what Y/N said, and that was the truth, no matter how many times Y/N refused. And Y/N knew that what they said was honest and the unmistakable, raw honesty of what they had felt. No matter how much they would twist or bend their words, it was blatant that Y/N loved Crazy Dave, even if they wished to deny it to hell and back.

"Did not," Y/N refused.

"Did too!" Crazy Dave deflected.

Once more, Y/N denied. "Did not!"

Crazy Dave diverted yet again "Did too!"

Y/N replied with a casual "Did not!" yet again, but Dave had an idea. Of course, it was a diversion of reversal. Would it work, however, was the true question. And like most hypotheses, they needed to be tested out. Dave looked straight at Y/N, and after some though thinking, he responded.

"Did not!"

"Did too! Wait... DAMMIT!" Y/N scowled.

Dave then looked at Y/N, gently holding their hand within his. He looked at Y/N with a caring gaze. "Why're you so nervous to be open with me? I don't bite, not like any of those zombies or those nasty cats I'm allergic to."

Dammit, I was so close. I think it's time to let my walls down, maybe just this once. Dave has been nothing but nice to me, and I kept up this mask of stone, cold, resting bitch face for long enough. He does seem to like me back. After all, no sane man would scream in excitement about someone accidentally saying that they loved him. Ah, what the hell, I might as well give it a shot. After all, you only live once. At least I think I heard someone on my past team say that. I think it was Coach? Maybe? Eh, what the hell.

Without really thinking, Y/N pulled Dave into a warm, loving kiss. One that screamed volumes of their repressed feelings for him that they kept hidden away in a shelf of their mind for longer than what was considered healthy. Dave felt his face blush a warm, ample red, his charcoal eyes sparkling with nothing but love and desire for the apple of his eye that was standing right in front of him. Y/N was now someone he loved and admired, just as deeply as Y/N had cared for Dave and wished to protect him from the harsh hell that was the zombie apocalypse. After what felt like a good solid minute or two, Y/N pulled away. Their face was flushed with blush, their gaze soft, almost weak, like the innards of a clam being pulled from its shell.

"Th-There, I love you, okay?! I was afraid you'd hurt me, or that you wouldn't like me back, so I didn't say anything!" Y/N confessed.

Now this was the big moment of what would come between the two. The sun shone upon Crazy Dave and Y/N, shining down on them like a dramatic spotlight in a play's climax. It was death-defying, with the silence and the tension growing thick like blood. Even the plants grew invested, a few sunflowers and peashooters couldn't help but look at the couple with wide eyes and mouths agape. Y/N felt their heart race, waiting to be met with a slap, a harsh laugh, anything that signified a hidden disdain waiting to be unleashed. But there was no disdain, no hatred that seeped out at the last minute, no negativity. There was only kindness and love within Dave's heart, the kind he wanted to share with Y/N until death would have done them apart. Dave kissed their hand, a genuine act of tender manner and sheer love, one that was hard to fake else wise with how soft Dave's movement was, how gingerly his lips touched the back of Y/N's hand... It was like a dream come true.

"Y/N..." Dave spoke, taking off his pot and holding it to his chest, a gesture of nervous behavior to a confession of Dave's own. "I'd never do none of that. I care about you like how a grizzly bear cares for another fellow bear: with honest, open words. And I would never wish for anything bad to happen to someone as grace-y and prettyful as you are! I wish to be the toaster to your time-bomb, Y/N: inseparable and toasty. I love you just as much as you love me," Dave confessed, before leaning in and kissing Y/N once more. Y/N could only blush as they held Dave close, at an utter loss of words aside from six specific ones:

"I love you too, ya dork."

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Plants Vs Zombies Fanfics, Oneshots, and Headcanons