if you like the idea of writing half infected paul how about something with him and emma if they were living together after everything? like he’s struggling to find something to satiate the infected part of him that doesn’t involve him singing and emma tells him “well your laughter is music to me, so that might work” and then Wrecks the shit out of him?
This is so cute omg! This won’t be the tickletober fic, but I’ll flesh it out into a longer story at a later date because I’m such a sap for paulkins & this is such a cute idea that deserves to be explored!
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Tell me about half-infected Paul Matthews!!
Yes!!! Okay! The broad strokes are covered in the notes of the original post I made on the topic, so let’s talk about the direct aftermath of Hatchetfield.
There’s about a week and a half where neither one of them knew. They probably should have noticed, to be honest, but they were too focused on the fact that they were here, and happy, and alive, together.
Paul wakes up in the aftermath of the explosion, basically untouched. It’s terrifying— if he survived, what else did? The military are quarantining the island and counting everyone still there among the dead, until someone staggers out of the wreckage looking, essentially, fine. And he’s not singing or dancing or anything, so they give him a quick once-over and let him go after a ton of paperwork promising not to say anything about what happened. He asks where he can find Emma. He meets her at the hospital.
This whole time, there’s been this buzzing in the back of his skull. If he focused on it, it would almost sound like a melody. Almost. He figures it’s probably from the explosion; maybe the medic missed a concussion or something.
Emma can’t believe he’s really here, that he’s really alive. He doesn’t even look much worse for the wear; his skin is almost blue tinted, but not enough to be too much of a problem. He has some dark colored bruises. But he’s okay. It’s fine.
He taps his fingers on the steering wheel as they drive out west. Her first reaction is that that doesn’t seem like something he’d do, but, well, she’s never actually ridden in a car with him before. Maybe she’s overthinking it. He hums under his breath, and when she asks about it, he doesn’t remember doing it.
That first night, they stop at a motel, and Paul proceeds to have the worst dreams of his life. It’s like he’s something else, not human and not in control of what he’s doing. The landscape is gooey and has a cold color scheme, though Paul couldn’t name most of the colors he saw. It made his head hurt to try and think about them. Something was talking to him; he didn’t know what language it was, and he definitely didn’t know how to speak it, but it made sense in his brain. Someone was upset with him, though he didn’t know why.
The next day, his dreams are very similar. What gets said in the unidentifiable language varies, but it’s almost always negative when directed at him. The buzzing in the back of his head has finally resolved itself clearly into music, which is just outright annoying. Especially because when he tries to Google it, Paul can’t find the name of the song; it’s like it doesn’t exist.
He tries to be aware of the humming, now that Emma has pointed it out, but it seems to just slip by without him noticing. He apologizes a million times when he realizes or when she tells him, but he can’t seem to control it. He turns off the radio, because even though it was a talk station, the jingles in the ads seemed to set him off. It helped a little, and they didn’t talk about it.
Setting up the farm is a distraction in itself, between fixing up the old house and the barn, planting the crop (the two of them quickly discovered that Paul is not good with the farm equipment), Emma makes plans for a fence around the property… there is a lot to do, and if Paul hums while he works, or taps his feet whenever there was music on the tv, that goes relatively unnoticed. Lots of people do that. That’s not weird.
Ultimately, it’s Emma’s fence that gave it away. Paul is helping build it (he’s much better with hand tools than the tractor; he’d been the top student in his high school shop class, surprisingly) and ends up with a scratch on his arm. Nothing huge, not even worth worrying about, but he heads back up to the house to get the first aid kit out. He doesn’t even look at it till he got there, and then realizes that the blood was neon blue.
Emma heads back up to the house when he doesn’t came back after a while. He’s a mess, he has no idea what to do, and she’s a bit paralyzed at first. They’d both thought that what happened in Hatchetfield was over, it was behind them, but here it is again, back to haunt them. Then it hits her that she’s been living with him for over a week now, alone, in the middle of nowhere. If he was going to hurt her, he already would’ve.
Everything up until that point suddenly makes sense, and he hates that he didn’t even notice. He hates that the lyrics to an emotional act-one-finale type of song are in his brain, ready to go if he would let it. He was so focused on leaving all of the horror in the past, but now it’s taken his future, too.
Emma bandages his arm and goes to make shitty coffee.
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