one6two6: (tel: skins :: kat - don'tmess)
[personal profile] one6two6
Title: "Return to Greatness"
Fandom: Skins
Characters: Katie, everyone (to come)
Rating: PG for gruesome imagery
Word count: ~800
Summary: A zombie Almost Famous AU. Don't look at me, [profile] smeetie started it.
Disclaimer: All characters are property of E4 and its employees; the setting to Cameron Crowe respectively. This is a work of fiction for fiction and it couldn't be further from the intention of infringement/libel if it tried.

A/N: I should say that [profile] smeetie actually looked over this for me, very kindly. Any mistakes left are of my own fault completely. This is for you, and [profile] violet4120 because well, who else? ♥

There wasn't a doubt in anyone's minds. America was on the brink of a revolution, about to change the world as they knew it--not to be assholes about it or anything, but it was true. The end of the 1950s marked a real foreboding sense for change, and them, the Brits in middle America--they had to go and get themselves bitten by fucking zombies. Zombies. Those bitches. Creatures of the utmost nefarious nature had to try and go for their fucking brains. Ugh, whatever, change and civil rights, right? Like it wasn't hard enough to fit in. One goal was clear though: their music had to go on.

Katie got up from her bed in her doldry room. No place was going to keep her forever. She phoned her friend from across the country she met that one time. It was now or never, and if she didn't pick up and answer, then the whole idea would be a goner.


Thankfully she did.

“Hey, Naomi, I got a totally great idea. It’s somewhat in the works, but I think we should just go for it.”

“You're rambling again, you loon.”

“We should form a band.” The words just fumbled right out of her mouth into the receiver.

“What?" She hesitated. "We're zombies, Katie, did you forget?”

“All of us, it should be a movement. Like rights for all, even the undead.”

“Um ..." She went on incredulously. "You're serious? All nine of us?”

“Well Karen's a bit old, don't you think? She's really funny and all, but I think she's fine being the only undead dancer in Vegas.”

“Oh all right, so eight. You're crazy," she paused, sighed out, "but I think I like it. Yeah.”

“Yes! It’ll be a new piece of greatness in history, y’know. The Great Undead comin’ at you.” Katie motioned cheerfully, throwing a fist into the air.

“Perhaps it’d be better if we go for a name a bit less identical to our idols.” Naomi added, matter-of-factly.

“You're right. See Naomi, this is why I'm glad we know each other.”

“By default. Don't forget it, babes.”

Katie hung up the phone. She chewed on the tiny bits of fingernails she had left while contemplating the future she just set up for herself. By the time she reached her nailbeds, she tasted something gangrenous in nature and gave up. She shot her hand back down and checked herself in her full-length mirror.

It took only a moment for her to be back in that place again, to that time when they were all zombified, the Bristolians minding their own business in the streets. Who knew there would be a zombie outbreak in the middle of England? Not only did they manage to come away mostly unscathed if not completely undead, but their minds stayed (for the most part) intact and, agreed that staying apart from each other would prove to be best, to not raise suspicion, putting their musical aspirations on hold.

“This one's for you, Jerry Garcia. We’re gonna be knocking on heaven’s door until they let us in.” She saluted and pivoted to leave.

Staying at home by herself proved to be useful, if not only for her huge lack in excuses. She could do as she wished, whenever and however. She was all the way downstairs and almost decided to skip the last step until she remembered to value her working feet. Just then, her sister appeared around the corner with forlorn eyes. If zombies could look sad, it seemed she stuck with it.

“Where you going?”

Katie turned and inwardly admonished herself for forgetting an essential member of the band she was reforming. Of course she needed a tambouriner, she’d need her to alternate to the cowbell every now and then. What band wouldn't be complete without these?

She shrugged on her sheepskin coat and tossed a leather one to Emily. She tipped her chin up and said, “Get ready; we're gonna go make history.”

“Like in text books?”

“Yeah, just like that.” She winked and opened their door to the world, their world. And also to the gaping mouths of all their neighbors, but they had to go out sometime. Now had to be better than never.


Miles away, Naomi looked at her phone in a newfound appreciation. She tapped her chin once, the second time looking up at nothing, and sighed.

"Well, this all ought to be extremely interesting." She pursed her lips and made a noncommittal gesture with her hand. "Or at least it better, I certainly can't be undead forever." She skipped her way out the door, knees cackling as they fought against gravity.

It was already shaping up to be a good day. Or, to be more precise with these young Bristolians' timetable, an even greater week.

Part 2
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June 2016

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