A/N: Well finally the second chapter! This will involve some violence and blood, not too much but there definitely will be some blood, some slight sexual content, and friendship, and some hurt! Hope you enjoy it!

Never The End: Red Dead undead Nightmare

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John held Bonnie bridal style, both of them soaked in blood. He took her back inside, the smell so horrid it caused him to fall to a knee.

He swallowed and stood back up, climbing the stairs. "Ms. Macfarlane I will go get some water, stay here," he laid her in her father's bed, her eyelids heavy and face bloody. John fled the room in a hurry to get what he needed, some water and a bathing cloth.

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He came back and bent to a knee at the edge of the bed, taking out his matchbox to light the candle on the nightstand. Neither of them looked attractive in this ambient lighting, too much blood on the face. Inhale, exhale, John leaned forward and rolled up Bonnie's left sleeve. Her arm was cut pretty bad but not too bad that he couldn't find the little shards.

She had already braced herself and gripped the sheets as hard as she could once John pulled them out, one by one carefully. John watched her face move and distort from the pain. "Thank you, Mr. Marston, you're a good uh friend," she must've forgotten to brace herself again, this time he pulled out a large piece of glass that almost looked too big to be in her thin arm. John released a chuckle, patting her arm with the alcohol covered rag. "Thank you Ms. Macfarlane, now can you roll your legs out to me, I need to remove the glass," John watched as she carefully situated herself so that her bloody legs were facing him, his gloved hands warm on her legs, the blood slowly drying.

"Miss, take this," John looked up at her, handing her that bottle of whiskey; that was the only way to ease the pain a little. She looked back down at him her eyes big and blue, lips red and dry. "I ain't goin' to drink too much, Mr. Marston," she gave a half-smile, taking a small swig, before giving it back to him.

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The night was warm, and the moon was big and bright. "Abigail," John called, walking into the small study, watching his lovely wife stare out of the window.

Her smile startled him, not in a bad way but a good way. "Hello John," Abigail kept herself pinned to the window sill, gazing up at the moon. "Don't you ever wander what might be on the moon, John, it's so beautiful," Abigail felt a warm pair of hands grope her shoulders and squeeze down to her waist. That's when she knew they've been apart for so long;

She turned around, facing him, reaching up to stroke his scarred whiskered face. Since reunited, Abigail hasn't been too close when it came to them being intimate.

Abigail kissed his cheek and took him by the hand. "Where's Jack?" Abigail let out a whimper as John picked her up, and set her back down on the face of the study table, pushing back a few of Jack's books. John kissed Abby's lips before closing the door and returned to his wanton wife. "He's probably readin'," John answered for the boy and carefully closed the warm space between the two of them, kissing her deeply.

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Ever since that night John couldn't stop thinking about Abigail. She was like all the others, all dead and gross, spitting blood and guts. Damnit it made him so furious.

Bonnie's cry woke him up from his small trance, and he blinked taking notice of what had made her cry. Fresh blood drip from her leg wound, as he violently pulled out a shard. John looked up at her and then back down at the wound. "I'm sorry Ms. Macfarlane, I didn't mean to hurt you," John apologized as best as he could, rubbing the rag on her leg, wiping the blood and taking most of the pain away, leaving a burning sensation from the alcohol.

Bonnie wiggled her toes, and John looked up slowly. "It's alright, Mr. Marston, I am startin' to feel a bit better," the boiling feeling in her stomach began to worry her again, and her expression confused John, as he stood up holding his arms out to her.

"You okay?" John held her to her feet as she began to fall over slowly. She spit more blood and doing so cause her gut wound to soak through much more, dripping to the floor. John held her onto the bed, and climbed on top and not in an intimate way; he pinned her down by her shoulders and her eyes finally closed again. He knew talking to her would be best so he did, while he sat at her feet, trying to position himself so he could carefully pull the largest shards from her wound.

"Ms. Macfarlane you have to drink all of this, it's goin' to hurt," without a response, John knew what was best for her. He squeaked the mattress as he hovered above her, carefully opening her mouth so he could pour the whiskey in.

If she didn't take it who knows if she would make it, and John would feel so terrible; terrible for losing her and terrible for Drew having to deal with his daughter's death.

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The smell of decay and that decomposing corpse of that undead fellow started getting to him and he was on the verge of passing out, but he couldn't.

He made sure he didn't put any of his weight on top of her little body and continued to pour the alcohol into her mouth, some of it spilling out.

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A few hours later, Bonnie opened her eyes again, the surgery was done. She woke up feeling a bit stiff and the smell of blood and whiskey filled the air.

John was fast asleep on the floor when she looked over, his left arm completely covering his eyes. Bonnie tried to get to her feet but it hurt. She had cuts and gashes everywhere, and the stitches weren't very tight.

"Mr. Marston, Mr. Marston, are you okay?" she lightly tapped him in the side with her foot and he jerked awake, looking up at her like she was going to take a huge bite out of him.

"Oh Ms. Macfarlane, sorry you kinda' scared me, you feelin' any better?" he grunted trying to get himself up. Bonnie sat on the edge of the blood-spotted bed, looking down at his boots. "Yeah, a lot better, why did you come here anyway you silly man, you can't always be a hero?" Bonnie watched him snicker and it faded away, scratching his head. "Sure, I know I can't always be a hero but I try Ms. Macfarlane, and I am searchin' for a cure, this crazy thing spreadin' through the air took my wife and son, turnin' them into brain-dead creeps," he explained, sitting beside her.

"You didn't have to go all your way jus' to save me, Mr. Marston, I'm a perfectly independent woman who can take care of herself, and besides you got your family to worry 'bout," she said softly, looking down again, twiddling her fingers.

John looked at her and coughed. "I know I have my family to worry 'bout, you're family too, Ms. Macfarlane," they both shared sweet glances and it ended too fast. "Where's Drew?" John asked jumping to his feet. Bonnie looked behind her at the window. He followed her eyes and saw the barn. "He was tryin' to hold back some of those crazy maneaters, he ain't the kind of man that's goin' to shoot the people he loves, Mr. Marston, but I'm sure he's fine..." something in Bonnie's voice was sad and hurt.

John swallowed and pulled out his revolver, laying it on the bed right beside Bonnie. She looked down at it and smiled. "You know Mr. Marston, I have tons of rifles and shotguns that will help me, but thanks, I'll use it," she laughed, and John left the bedroom with his double-barrell in hand. He gave it to her because he knew where her father kept the weapons; downstairs and there was no way in hell Bonnie was going to go tumbling down those stairs in the kind of condition she was in.

He left the house, feeling bad about kicking the door off the hinges, and stood proud and cautiously on the dirt road, looking every which way. The air was still hot and damp; it made him sweat like crazy. He didn't bother to wipe the sweat from his forehead, he didn't have enough time to take off the hat; a brain-dead creep could come out from hiding any moment.

He needed to check on Drew, for Bonnie's sake.

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E/N: Well theres the second chapter hope you readers enjoyed it so far. Tell me what you think and I'll keep on going!