[This is so annoying. Annoying, that's the word he uses to himself instead of terrifying. It mostly works; he's an excellent liar, even to himself. It's annoying, he thinks, because he wanted to have a nice day, with his Fugo and with Jin, both of whom could do with relaxing a little. He wanted to keep an eye on people, get a feel for how the population at large is feeling, how they're coping. He wanted to make fun of American mall food. He wanted to buy new sunglasses. And yet.]

[The truth of the matter is, in a situation like this, with who he's with, his first concern isn't the flesh-eating infected. He can grow flesh back. Who knows? He might even be immune. Not really worth a deliberate risk, but it's not as though he particularly values his own skin.]

[Jin can't, though. There's a much bigger and more immediate danger than the infected around the corner, and it's standing right next to them.]

[Giorno smiles a little crookedly and slides his fingers through Fugo's, squeezing his hand gently. It's flirtatious. It's insane. But it's also deliberate, because they're stuck in a corner near a crowd of panicked people, and if they don't get out of here soon there's the potential that everyone here is going to fucking die.]

Jin? You're enormous. Do me a favor and look around quickly, please, over people's heads, until you find the biggest open space you possibly can, as far away from other people as you can. Do not argue with me or ask questions. Thank you.

[As soon as he's got a spare moment, which takes longer than he expects it to, Giorno breaks away from Fugo and Jin for a bit to find Sai. Which in a way is illogical. He knows that Sai is perfectly capable--nearly as capable as he is, in some ways, and probably more so in some ways. So he doesn't need to check on him.]

[But they agreed to be friends. Caring about each other is what friends do. Sometimes, taking stupid risks to take care of each other is friends do. So it's a point of stubbornness, too, in a way: I'm going to be a good friend to Sai, because he deserves it, flesh-eating undead monsters or no flesh-eating undead monsters.]

[So he hurries, spreading his life-sense out out out so he can feel who's coming, human or not-quite-human-anymore. It's a relief when he turns a corner and sees Sai, not only visibly safe but with the same person he was with before--a friend, it has to be a friend, and someone Sai trusts, too, if he's sticking with him in a crisis. (How many people in the world does Sai honestly trust?)]

Oh, thank God. [Giorno exhales sharply, visibly, and grins with relief, a shockingly unguarded expression for him.] I was worried. But you're okay!

[Picture this.]

[Here are two boys in the middle of this fucked-up mall, surrounded by infected, trying not to get bitten or let anyone else get bitten, or trampled, or so on and so forth, various crisis-related hazards. Here are two boys who are under a lot of stress, and have a lot of zombie-related baggage anyway, and coincidentally one of them, when stressed, is pretty likely to whip out a flesh-eating virus himself, only by accident, which makes it extra fun.]

[It's been an evening. And now, just past midnight, here they are, just outside the foodcourt, nervously eyeing the infected milling around. They are mostly in the food court at this point and seem to be treating it as a home base of sorts, which is annoying on the one hand but could potentially make it easy for them to corral all of the infected. Fugo and Giorno are having a silent conversation using body language, mostly eyes and eyebrow wiggles, to determine the relative advantages of attacking here and now or going back for help.]

[And then all of a sudden, one of the infected looks up and sees them. And then, one by one, all of the infected look up and see them.]

[Which answers the question about relative advantages very succinctly.]

[There's no conversation needed before they both decide to run. Fugo's hand finds Giorno's, and they're off like bats out of hell (#vampirejoke), running for the hills, for higher-ground, for that coffee shop with the grate thingy they figured out how to slam down. It should be fine. It should be. The infected aren't following that fast.]

[Except Fugo can't run that fast. He isn't well. He's never well. When Fugo starts lagging behind, Giorno does too, because like hell is he leaving Fugo behind--and the distance between them and the infected begins to slowly close.]

[And then, out of nowhere, a figure looms up behind them, picks Fugo up around the waist, tucks him against its side, and pulls ahead. Giorno helps and hangs on to Fugo's hand tighter, but it's no good, and their fingers break apart, and he growls and moves because no, he doesn't care, it doesn't take life sense to be able to tell that's not an infected person but he's seeing infrared.]

Put him down, you son of a bitch!