One-Shot
Man, I haven't written fics for anything in years and here I am with the second one in the past week. Damn. These two are way too damn inspirational. Thank you, VALVe!
Anyway, this one's longer than the last one, so it's a one-shot instead of a ficlet. I totally wrote this while I was supposed to be working on art homework! Hooray!
....Okay, I'll go do the homework now....like a good little girl.
Not sure if I like Nick's characterization in this one. Went with a bit less douche-y Nick and a bit more broody one. But, still, it's one interpretation of him, just not one I go with often. If I write another fic, it'll definitely have to be douche-y, asshole Nick again, though. This one just feels weird to write, lol.
So, anyway, gonna forewarn you this one isn't humorous or happy. There's a small amount of fluff (I guess), but...yeah. If you don't like sadfic, then don't bother, lol.
Title: Nervous Tick
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nick/Ellis (Though neither of them really know about how deep their feelings go)
His hand was shaking. It was a nervous habit. It was always his right hand. It usually wasn't too much of a problem, since he was ambidextrous. He could hold his cards in his left hand, keep his right hidden. He could keep a poker face, look as emotionless as possible when his mind was rushing every which way, but he couldn't keep his hand from shaking.
When he would shoot a gun or use a weapon, he felt more in control. His hands weren't idle. He could hide the shaking easily. As long as he could keep his mind from wandering too much anyway, he wouldn't have to deal with it. Just kill everything in their path. Run to help his comrades. Rush to fix them up when they needed it. However, he'd noticed something....
Whenever Ellis went down, his hand would shake until he could get him to safety. Whenever Ellis was in bad shape, he'd have to really concentrate to be able to patch him up, his hand would be wanting to shake so much. It never happened with Rochelle or Coach. Sure, he valued their lives too, maybe even considered them friends, but it was as if he wasn't as scared of them dying. It couldn't be an attachment, right? The kid was just so damn annoying...even if he looked fucking amazing.
But they seemed to share a silent understanding. Which was funny, considering Ellis hardly ever was silent. Even when he was sleeping he usually went back and forth between snoring and soft mumbling. But one time when Nick was working to stitch up one of Ellis's wounds, Ellis moved to still his shaking hand, looking up at him with no words on his tongue, but plenty in his eyes.
'It's okay, Nick. I ain't goin' nowhere.'
Nick had merely nodded, breathing in deeply and calming down enough to finish. Ellis had offered a smile and a soft pat on his shoulder. Why was such reassurance so strangely calming? Why was the kid able to do that? His ex-wife certainly hadn't been able to, even during their good years.
After that, every time his hand would start shaking, Ellis would place a hand to his shoulder and mutter some stupid thing that didn't matter. All that mattered was the message that his eyes gave.
'E'erythin' gon' be okay, Nick. I promise.'
He understood. Which was more than most people. Nick didn't know why until one night when they were keeping watch.
"'Ey, Nick...How long ya been doin' that, man?"
Nick had glanced up from his spot on the floor, a cigarette in his mouth. The best part about the zombie apocalypse was free cigarettes and alcohol whenever they were able to swipe them. The nicotine would help calm the shaking some. Not completely, but enough. It was a nervous tick, and the cigarettes helped calm him. Alcohol would too, but it wasn't quite the same.
"What are ya talking about, kid?"
"You know, tha' shakin' thing ya do." Ellis muttered, pointing toward his hand. Nick merely glanced at the appendage in question, sighing.
"For a while, kid. A long damn while."
"Yeah...I was always able ta tell when Keith wa' scared'r excited. He did tha'...bu' with his foot instead. An' if'fin he was excited, he'd have tha' glint in his eye an' all. So, I always knew when he had one o' them awesome ideas a-cookin' in tha' head o' his. Bu' when he though' he gon' die'r somethin', it'd shake too. So, one time, when we-"
"That's enough, El. I get it."
"Okay." Ellis then walked over to the door, checking to see if there wasn't any zombies getting in anytime soon. He sighed when there seemed to be none before walking back to sit down beside Nick. "Bu' really, Nick. Don' worry. E'eryone gon' be jus' fine. I'll make sure o' that."
"Kid, you get attacked more than any of us. Hell, it's as if you have some sorta pheromones that attract the fuckers." He took another drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out lazily, staring off at the wall. Not like the writing on the wall made things any better.
'Richard, if you read this, keep going. Alice is dead. She got dragged off by one of those tongue guys. It's just you and me, if you're alive, that is. Meet me at the next safe house. I'll wait two days before moving on. I hope you're okay.'
"I can still keep y'all safe when I ain't bein' attacked'r nothin', Nick. 'Sides, if tha's true, I can distract 'em from attackin' any o' ya if ya go down an' all."
"Don't do that, kid. That's suicide and stupid as shit."
'He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone.'
Ellis chuckled then. "Y'all like fam'ly ta me, man. An' I ain't gon' lose any o' ya."
Nick knew there was no arguing with the kid.
He'd made up his mind.
He stuck his cigarette back in his mouth with a shaking hand.
'We're all gonna die.'
-----
The final stretch. Looked to him like I-10 over Lake Ponchartrain. Damn, this bridge was awful enough before the fucking apocalypse. It probably wasn't even fully stable anymore the way it looked. He couldn't see too much of it, but he could see enough to tell it wasn't going to be a stroll in the park. Not that the park had been that either, but still...
Ellis was spouting some nonsense about fighting zombies on the bridge. Nick would listen in if he wasn't so nervous about it all, since he'd actually started to pay attention to him in general. Ellis's voice had started to calm him a bit, because it meant he was still alive. As long as the kid was talking, he was alive. But not even that could calm him now. His hand was shaking like a motherfucker. He hid it in a pocket, however, holding his gun in the other hand as he waited for the bridge to lower.
The military was probably just going to line them up against a wall and shoot them. Nick was almost sure of it. The way they'd been reading about carriers and how Rochelle had talked about them, he couldn't help but feel nervous. That helicoptor pilot had looked just fine until they'd gotten on there. In fact, it'd been a little while before he'd started to act sick.
If they weren't all carriers than at least one was. He glanced over at Ellis a moment. With the way the kid attracted the suckers...
No, he couldn't think that way. They'd be just fine. They couldn't get all this way for nothing.
Once the bridge was lowered, the mad dash started. He easily went back and forth between his frying pan and his assault rifle. Ellis had his bat and shotgun at the ready, mowing down the zombies easily. Coach and Rochelle kept up with them just fine. Good, nice start. They were even killing specials before they could get ahold of them. The manic laughing of a jockey was heard briefly before it tried to jump on Ellis, of which Coach quickly whacked with the butt of his gun before shooting it in the face. Ellis thanked him quickly before continuing on.
And that's when they felt it. The rumbling of a tank. Yeah, he knew it couldn't be that easy. They continued on, trying to figure out where it was so they could run past it. They knew if they ran fast, they could outrun the fucker and shoot at it as they ran. Ellis was the best at running backwards and shooting. There was no doubt about that. Nick usually kept a watch on where he was going to keep him from running into anything that could lead to a death none of them wanted.
There it was, throwing cars angrily and roaring as it made its way to them. Ellis immediately took aim. "Light that mother up!" He yelled, Rochelle soon doing just that and throwing a molotov at the giant. He immediately began moving backwards and shooting as quickly as he could manage. Whenever he had to reload, Nick made sure to kick in double-time until he could get his gun loaded again.
The tank eventually fell, to the relief of them all, but they didn't have time to think on it, quickly continuing on. The chopper was in sight soon after, the four of them rushing toward it. And of course it had to be a roundabout way. They couldn't have a straight path, could they? He kept his eyes on the prize, however, rushing as fast as he could, especially when he began feeling that familiar rumble again.
Almost there! Almost there! Almost fucking there!
Made it!
He looked back as Coach and Rochelle rushed in, relieved to see them....but when Ellis didn't follow soon after, he felt his heart skip a beat. He rushed to the entrance to see the boy back at the fence, lighting up a molotov and throwing it at the damn tank.
"ELLIS!" He screamed, the kid continuing to fight the tank. He knew what he was thinking... It was paying attention to him, and as long as it was paying attention to him, it wasn't moving toward the helicoptor.
No.
"ELLIS! YOU LITTLE SHIT! JUST GET IN THE HELICOPTOR AND WE'LL FLY OFF BEFORE IT CAN GET IN!" He screamed over the helicoptor's roaring blades.
"YOU KNOW THA' AIN'T HAPPENIN', NICK! GET GOIN' 'FORE SOMETHIN' ELSE GETS Y'ALL!" He rushed further away from the helicoptor, keeping the tank's attention. "I AIN'T GON' LET ANY O' YA DIE!"
The tank got close enough to hit Ellis, throwing him into the side of a bus. His wide eyes were full of pain and he would have screamed if the air hadn't gotten knocked out of his lungs. There were probably a few broken ribs there too.
They were frozen in place, unable to move as they watched the tank get closer and closer to Ellis. If they ran for it, they wouldn't be able to get there in time. No way.
Not that Nick wasn't willing to take a gamble.
As the tank then rushed at Ellis as the kid began to fall to the ground, Nick ran out of the chopper, shooting at the tank as he went. He had to kill it. Had to kill it before it killed Ellis.
The tank was pounding it's giant fists into Ellis's form for a moment before it noticed the other standing figure. It growled, rushing at Nick. Had to take them down. Had to take them all down.
Ellis had gotten a good dent into the monster, bullet holes running over it's entire form. Nick began guiding it away from Ellis, attempting to run backwards as he shot the giant mercilessly. He only hoped he could do this anywhere close to as well as Ellis could. Right now would not be the time to trip. He could hear screaming from somewhere. Feminine. Likely Rochelle. Didn't matter right now. He had to kill it.
It took a few times dodging items on the ground and running backwards in a circle before the tank finally fell, it's burning body falling to the ground so hard the ground shook beneath their feet. He didn't even allow himself time to catch his breath, rushing over to grab up Ellis's body. No time to check. No time. He's okay. He's okay. He's still breathing.
As they got into the helicoptor, the door quickly closed and the vehicle began rising into the air. Nick got on his knees, setting the boy's body down but keeping his head elevated. He was breathing strange. Ragged and inconsistent. "Kid. Kid, you better talk to me or I swear I'll kill you myself."
Ellis gave him a soft, weak smile, some blood trickling down from his mouth and over his chin. "I...know ya...ain't gon' do tha'....Suit..." Between each word, he seemed to be taking in deep gulps of breath.
Nick let out a relieved breath, not even noticing he had been holding it in. "You gave us a damn good scare, Overalls. What the hell's wrong with you?" However, after another second's observation, all the relief left him once more. Something was wrong...Something was terribly wrong.
A quick glance at Coach's face confirmed it. He was a health teacher, right? He should be able to tell, right? No...No, he can't. He isn't a doctor. He....He has to be wrong. Rochelle looked scared, shaking a little with wide eyes, her hands fisting and un-fisting as if trying to find something to do with them.
"Kid, you listen to me. Don't talk. We need to get you help. I think you've punctured a lung." He looked up at Rochelle, trying to silently tell her to find a way to contact the pilot and get them some help, but Ellis reached up and gripped tightly to his suit jacket. That was definitely going to leave a stain, what with all the blood that currently coated the boy's fingers. But Nick couldn't bring himself to care as he stared down at Ellis with wide eyes.
"Yer....yer han's... shakin', Nick...." He moved to place his free hand on Nick's right. "Yer... gonna be... jus' fine..." He coughed, blood escaping his mouth again. "Tell...tell Keith...tha' I topped all...'is stupid stunts....by a mile..." He attempted a laugh, but it only ended in more coughing.
"No, stop. You're going to be fine. Rochelle's getting you help. Just stop talking. We don't need to hear you to know you're alive right now, kid. Just stop moving and talking so much."
"Nick....Please....fin' muh fam'ly....tell 'em...M'sorry..." Nick shook his head, his eyes never leaving the boy's face.
"Stop talking, god dammit!" He yelled, his hand only shaking worse, despite the boy's touch. No...No, this couldn't be happening. Not after everything! Not after all they'd been through!
"Nick..." He looked at him with a serious expression. "...You...fin' somethin'...ta be happy 'bout....ya hear?...Fin'...a way ta...love people...'gain....An'...an' know...I consider ya...a real goo' frien'..." He then glanced at Rochelle and Coach, smiling softly. "...Ro'...ya like a sister...ta me, girl...An' Coach...I ain't e'er had a good papa...Ya the bes' dad I e'er had."
Rochelle could hardly talk through her sobbing, but she leaned down beside Ellis, placing a hand on top of his. "Sw-sweetie....you'll be okay...Stop...stop talking like that..."
"Boy...Glad to hear that, cuz I consider ya to be the son I ne'er had....I'm sure the Lord gon' take care o' ya, Ellis....Yo' too good a kid for Him not ta." Coach muttered softly.
"N-no! He'll be okay! Stop talking like that!" Rochelle cried out, her sobs only getting worse.
Nick couldn't find his breath anymore, paralyzed and shaking. He could feel the boy growing more and more limp in his arms.
"I...I'll make sure He'll...make a special place...in Heaven...fer all o' ya...Ya all deserve it....An' I gon' wanna see...y'all 'gain...Soon as I....get...there..." He closed his eyes, his head rolling to the side on Nick's arm. After a long moment of silence, Coach leaned down to check his pulse. Rochelle watched him with scared eyes before Coach sighed and shook his head.
He was gone.
Nick didn't even need the confirmation. He could tell. His whole body was shaking, and Ellis was like a heavy ragdoll in his arms. Rochelle screamed, rushing over to Nick to start hitting him in his back. "You were supposed to be watching him! Why didn't you?! WHY?!" And Nick could only sit there, unwavering and taking the hits wordlessly.
She was right....This was all his fault.
Coach moved over to pull her away, wrapping his arms around her. "Shh, baby girl...This ain't anymore Nick's fault than it is yours...Come on...Let's go sit down, okay?"
Rochelle nodded hesitantly before following Coach to the other end of the helicoptor. He took a quick glance at Nick and decided to leave him. The man could cope in his own way. As long as he didn't mess up the body in any way then it would be okay.
And Nick no longer could even acknowledge the other two, only staring down at Ellis, his mind going everywhere and nowhere at once.
Why didn't you watch him?
Why did you let him die?
Why?
After a while, he hesitantly let go of the other, not wanting to give the impression he cared as much as he did. He slowly stood up, not facing the others as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket as well as a lighter. He didn't bother to ask if they would mind if he had a smoke, because, frankly, he couldn't care less. He needed the fucking nicotine right now. He had to place it in his mouth and use his left hand to light it, cuz his right hand was practically useless at that moment.
"Y'know all those things I said about you, Ellis?... I was joking..." He muttered once he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. He blew the smoke up, away from the body. When he glanced back down he was quiet a bit longer before leaning down and slowly pulling the hat off his head. The boy's hair was matted down under it, but it still poofed a little now that it was no longer constrained, the curliness of his hair letting itself be fully known.
"Got a feelin' you're not gonna get a proper burial, kid...So, I'll try to keep this thing safe for ya." He took another long drag of the cigarette before standing up, looking the cap over and trying to ignore the painful twist in his stomach.
"....You were a good kid...And I'm gonna miss ya."
He then moved to walk away from the corpse, but to the opposite side of the chopper from the other two, sitting down and staring off into space again. His whole body, expression, voice, all seemed calm.
Except his right hand, which he made sure to keep in his pocket, the cap folded up with it.
---
He had been right, on all accounts. When they examined Ellis's body, they'd determined he was a carrier, and had immediately had it cremated with all the other carrier's bodies. The rest of them had been fully immune and allowed to go back into society. Most of their clothes had been deemed too hazardous and taken away, but Nick made sure they merely washed the cap thoroughly and let him have it back. It had been damn hard, but he was good at convincing people...especially when money came into the question. He had been tempted to ask the same for his suit, but he knew that would be too much. It was a lost cause. Besides, he could get another one. He couldn't get another of Ellis's hat.
Ellis had never told them his last name, or Keith's last name, so Nick had no idea how to go about the boy's requests. And the requests that had to do with himself were even harder to figure out.
How could he learn to love people if the only one he'd gotten close to caring so much for in the past several years was dead?
After Coach had been reunited with his wife and two daughters and Rochelle had found her little brother and her parents, Nick had left them to their lives. They had a certain respect for each other, but he knew he didn't belong in their lives after this. He had always been a loner, anyway. He preferred to be alone. He went back to a life of gambling, women, and swindling, but it just didn't give him the same type of rush it had before. It still was a good source of income, though, so he kept on doing it.
If this didn't make him happy, then what would?
After about three years, a monument had been put up with the names of all those lost during the outbreak engraved into it. Nick had bought a special suit for the visit. Custom-fit Armani white with a blue dress shirt under it. Who cared if you were supposed to mourn with black? Fuck tradition. If Ellis really was watching, this would mean more, anyway.
He had found the kid's name after about an hour of searching. There really was too many names, but he had narrowed down the last name since Ellis wasn't a very common first name. He hadn't felt right approaching his family just yet, though, and had continued to put it off. They didn't need anymore reminders, especially so long after his death. Besides, that message had been simple and he was sure they would've known he'd tell them that anyway.
It was probably best he went down the way he did. Go out in a blaze of glory instead of being gassed and thrown into a pit of fire with no true regard to who he was or what he'd been through.
He lit up a cigarette, only just then noticing his hand was shaking. It hadn't the whole drive there. Must've been the memories. Whatever.
Of course, as he continued to stare at the name in front of him, he easily let his mind wander off. He could still clearly see Ellis's face if he thought about him. He could clearly hear his voice in his head. It was almost as if he was standing right by him, spouting off some other nonsense story about his buddy Keith or some shit like that. He only knew him for a little while, but it was enough for him to be one of the most important people in his life.
And, he'd never admit it, but he'd kill for one of those damned stories right now.
"...El, I gon' miss ya, man." A voice from beside him, completely different from the voice in his head. He opened his eyes, glancing over beside him at a guy that looked to be in his late 20s, maybe early thirties. He wore a black dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves to rest at his elbows. He wore black slacks as well, but he wasn't very clean shaven, a bit more stubble on him than Nick himself sported at the moment. What really stood out, though....was his skin.
This one time, muh buddy Keith, on a dare, got a tattoo: "I'm a moron" right across his forehead, man. ..
It was very faint, but if one looked, you could almost make out an 'MO' on his forehead. A tattoo that had been removed, but you could still make it out if you tried enough.
I ever tell you 'bout the time Keith and I made fireworks? Now, I di'n't know shit 'bout chemistry, but Keith figured "Gasoline burns, doe'n't it?" Heh, third-degree burns on 95 percent o' his body...
Of course, the tattoo had been cut off by a burn scar anyway, so only the first two letters remained. A fourth of his face looked as if it had been badly burned, as well as a good portion of his neck.
I ever tell you 'bout the time Keith tried to deep-fry a turkey? Third-degree burns over 90 percent of his body. His doctor called up, like, other doctors ta look at 'im cause they'd never seen burns on top o' existin' burns...
But that didn't compare to his arms, which were almost fully burn scars. Nick briefly wondered why this kid hadn't gotten plastic surgery yet, but then decided he might not have been rich enough to. That or he considered them battle scars and kept them for the memories.
I ever tell ya 'bout the time me and Keith made a homemade bumper car ride with ridin' mowers in his backyard? Mower blade wounds over 90 percent o' his body. I di'n't run him over, either; he somehow managed ta fall under his own...
The only thing that interrupted the burn scars were the scars that resembled long gashes along his arms. Sure, they didn't cover as much of his body as Ellis had made it sound, but they definitely were there.
Nick didn't bother to examine any further scars. There was no way this kid wasn't Keith, especially considering who he had spoken to just then. 'El', with a 'man' on the end. Definitely had to be Ellis. That was too rare of a name for a guy.
Nick pulled his cigarette out of his mouth, blowing the smoke out without much regard for the other. After all, he was probably used to the smell of smoke.
He glanced over at the man-Keith- and hesitantly put his arm over his shoulders.
"I ever tell ya about the time me and my buddy Ellis fought off a ton of zombies together?" The other man stiffened, eyes going wide as he looked over at Nick. "Now, they say zombies want to eat your brains, right? Wrong. They just want to beat and scratch you to a bloody pulp and eat at the remains." He took another drag at his cigarette before blowing the smoke out slowly. "This isn't so much of a funny story as it is a 'make ya think' story, but Ellis had always been one to make everyone else feel better, boost them up so they would see the fun side of things, even at the darkest of times. He made it seem like some game, killing zombies, counting headshots, running around giant monsters just whoopin' and yellin' like he was on some roller coaster ride. His methods were insane, but, through them, he probably kept all the rest of us sane. He was a real good shot too. Saved my ass more times than I can remember. Still, he cared more about us than himself, just because that's the kind of guy he was. He ended up dying saving the rest of us, and he wanted me to tell his other buddy, Keith, all about it."
Keith's breath was gone, staring at Nick in shock. Nick pulled away to get rid of his current cigarette, smushing it under his foot and pulling out another. He wasn't really a chain smoker, but he felt like he needed another right now.
"You....You were there?" The other finally managed to ask.
"Sure was, kid. He went out in a blaze of glory. You'd both feel proud of him and want to call him a stupid little fucker at the same time." He lit his cigarette before placing his lighter back in his jacket. "Tell you what," He took the cigarette from his mouth, holding it in his left hand, his right was in his pocket, now shaking way too much for his liking. "How about we go out for drinks and I tell you all about it? I'll pay."
Keith nodded before giving him a smirk. "A blaze o' glory, huh?"
Nick smirked back. "Hell yeah."
And as they moved to walk off, he felt something cold on his right hand...yet it seemed to fill the appendage with a strange warmth. He pulled his hand out, looking it over before he felt the warmth embrace him, almost like a hug. Almost like...
"Somethin' wrong, man?"
Nick looked up at the other, silent for a moment before placing his cigarette back in his mouth and shaking his head. "Nothing, kid. Just trying to remember the bars in this area. Got any particular ones you like?"
As Keith began spouting off names of the local bars in town, Nick hardly was paying attention. While he kept his eyes on him, his mind was completely elsewhere. He'd just wait until he was done and ask him which of those were his favorite. Simple. Funny, he'd pulled similar stuff on Ellis.
He felt that warmth again, and it seemed like it was pulling negativity from him and pulling a lot off his shoulders. He closed his eyes, indulging in it and breathing calmly.
It's okay, Nick. I ain't goin' nowhere.
He felt a soft smile grace his features, subtle and easily able to be masked as a smirk, but a smile nonetheless.
Keith was still talking. No wonder these two had gotten along so well. Neither of them knew when to shut up...But it wasn't too bad now. Kind of like a remake of a good movie. Has all the same elements and themes, but just isn't quite as good as the first. Still, he didn't mind.
Some remakes were still really good.
He could almost feel fingers ghosting over his shoulder and hand, soothing him.
E'erythin' gon' be okay, Nick. I promise.
Thanks, kid. He thought briefly. He wondered if this was real or if he'd finally gone crazy. Either way, it felt nice, so he couldn't care less.
Besides, his hand was no longer shaking.
Anyway, this one's longer than the last one, so it's a one-shot instead of a ficlet. I totally wrote this while I was supposed to be working on art homework! Hooray!
....Okay, I'll go do the homework now....like a good little girl.
Not sure if I like Nick's characterization in this one. Went with a bit less douche-y Nick and a bit more broody one. But, still, it's one interpretation of him, just not one I go with often. If I write another fic, it'll definitely have to be douche-y, asshole Nick again, though. This one just feels weird to write, lol.
So, anyway, gonna forewarn you this one isn't humorous or happy. There's a small amount of fluff (I guess), but...yeah. If you don't like sadfic, then don't bother, lol.
Title: Nervous Tick
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nick/Ellis (Though neither of them really know about how deep their feelings go)
His hand was shaking. It was a nervous habit. It was always his right hand. It usually wasn't too much of a problem, since he was ambidextrous. He could hold his cards in his left hand, keep his right hidden. He could keep a poker face, look as emotionless as possible when his mind was rushing every which way, but he couldn't keep his hand from shaking.
When he would shoot a gun or use a weapon, he felt more in control. His hands weren't idle. He could hide the shaking easily. As long as he could keep his mind from wandering too much anyway, he wouldn't have to deal with it. Just kill everything in their path. Run to help his comrades. Rush to fix them up when they needed it. However, he'd noticed something....
Whenever Ellis went down, his hand would shake until he could get him to safety. Whenever Ellis was in bad shape, he'd have to really concentrate to be able to patch him up, his hand would be wanting to shake so much. It never happened with Rochelle or Coach. Sure, he valued their lives too, maybe even considered them friends, but it was as if he wasn't as scared of them dying. It couldn't be an attachment, right? The kid was just so damn annoying...even if he looked fucking amazing.
But they seemed to share a silent understanding. Which was funny, considering Ellis hardly ever was silent. Even when he was sleeping he usually went back and forth between snoring and soft mumbling. But one time when Nick was working to stitch up one of Ellis's wounds, Ellis moved to still his shaking hand, looking up at him with no words on his tongue, but plenty in his eyes.
'It's okay, Nick. I ain't goin' nowhere.'
Nick had merely nodded, breathing in deeply and calming down enough to finish. Ellis had offered a smile and a soft pat on his shoulder. Why was such reassurance so strangely calming? Why was the kid able to do that? His ex-wife certainly hadn't been able to, even during their good years.
After that, every time his hand would start shaking, Ellis would place a hand to his shoulder and mutter some stupid thing that didn't matter. All that mattered was the message that his eyes gave.
'E'erythin' gon' be okay, Nick. I promise.'
He understood. Which was more than most people. Nick didn't know why until one night when they were keeping watch.
"'Ey, Nick...How long ya been doin' that, man?"
Nick had glanced up from his spot on the floor, a cigarette in his mouth. The best part about the zombie apocalypse was free cigarettes and alcohol whenever they were able to swipe them. The nicotine would help calm the shaking some. Not completely, but enough. It was a nervous tick, and the cigarettes helped calm him. Alcohol would too, but it wasn't quite the same.
"What are ya talking about, kid?"
"You know, tha' shakin' thing ya do." Ellis muttered, pointing toward his hand. Nick merely glanced at the appendage in question, sighing.
"For a while, kid. A long damn while."
"Yeah...I was always able ta tell when Keith wa' scared'r excited. He did tha'...bu' with his foot instead. An' if'fin he was excited, he'd have tha' glint in his eye an' all. So, I always knew when he had one o' them awesome ideas a-cookin' in tha' head o' his. Bu' when he though' he gon' die'r somethin', it'd shake too. So, one time, when we-"
"That's enough, El. I get it."
"Okay." Ellis then walked over to the door, checking to see if there wasn't any zombies getting in anytime soon. He sighed when there seemed to be none before walking back to sit down beside Nick. "Bu' really, Nick. Don' worry. E'eryone gon' be jus' fine. I'll make sure o' that."
"Kid, you get attacked more than any of us. Hell, it's as if you have some sorta pheromones that attract the fuckers." He took another drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out lazily, staring off at the wall. Not like the writing on the wall made things any better.
'Richard, if you read this, keep going. Alice is dead. She got dragged off by one of those tongue guys. It's just you and me, if you're alive, that is. Meet me at the next safe house. I'll wait two days before moving on. I hope you're okay.'
"I can still keep y'all safe when I ain't bein' attacked'r nothin', Nick. 'Sides, if tha's true, I can distract 'em from attackin' any o' ya if ya go down an' all."
"Don't do that, kid. That's suicide and stupid as shit."
'He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone.'
Ellis chuckled then. "Y'all like fam'ly ta me, man. An' I ain't gon' lose any o' ya."
Nick knew there was no arguing with the kid.
He'd made up his mind.
He stuck his cigarette back in his mouth with a shaking hand.
'We're all gonna die.'
-----
The final stretch. Looked to him like I-10 over Lake Ponchartrain. Damn, this bridge was awful enough before the fucking apocalypse. It probably wasn't even fully stable anymore the way it looked. He couldn't see too much of it, but he could see enough to tell it wasn't going to be a stroll in the park. Not that the park had been that either, but still...
Ellis was spouting some nonsense about fighting zombies on the bridge. Nick would listen in if he wasn't so nervous about it all, since he'd actually started to pay attention to him in general. Ellis's voice had started to calm him a bit, because it meant he was still alive. As long as the kid was talking, he was alive. But not even that could calm him now. His hand was shaking like a motherfucker. He hid it in a pocket, however, holding his gun in the other hand as he waited for the bridge to lower.
The military was probably just going to line them up against a wall and shoot them. Nick was almost sure of it. The way they'd been reading about carriers and how Rochelle had talked about them, he couldn't help but feel nervous. That helicoptor pilot had looked just fine until they'd gotten on there. In fact, it'd been a little while before he'd started to act sick.
If they weren't all carriers than at least one was. He glanced over at Ellis a moment. With the way the kid attracted the suckers...
No, he couldn't think that way. They'd be just fine. They couldn't get all this way for nothing.
Once the bridge was lowered, the mad dash started. He easily went back and forth between his frying pan and his assault rifle. Ellis had his bat and shotgun at the ready, mowing down the zombies easily. Coach and Rochelle kept up with them just fine. Good, nice start. They were even killing specials before they could get ahold of them. The manic laughing of a jockey was heard briefly before it tried to jump on Ellis, of which Coach quickly whacked with the butt of his gun before shooting it in the face. Ellis thanked him quickly before continuing on.
And that's when they felt it. The rumbling of a tank. Yeah, he knew it couldn't be that easy. They continued on, trying to figure out where it was so they could run past it. They knew if they ran fast, they could outrun the fucker and shoot at it as they ran. Ellis was the best at running backwards and shooting. There was no doubt about that. Nick usually kept a watch on where he was going to keep him from running into anything that could lead to a death none of them wanted.
There it was, throwing cars angrily and roaring as it made its way to them. Ellis immediately took aim. "Light that mother up!" He yelled, Rochelle soon doing just that and throwing a molotov at the giant. He immediately began moving backwards and shooting as quickly as he could manage. Whenever he had to reload, Nick made sure to kick in double-time until he could get his gun loaded again.
The tank eventually fell, to the relief of them all, but they didn't have time to think on it, quickly continuing on. The chopper was in sight soon after, the four of them rushing toward it. And of course it had to be a roundabout way. They couldn't have a straight path, could they? He kept his eyes on the prize, however, rushing as fast as he could, especially when he began feeling that familiar rumble again.
Almost there! Almost there! Almost fucking there!
Made it!
He looked back as Coach and Rochelle rushed in, relieved to see them....but when Ellis didn't follow soon after, he felt his heart skip a beat. He rushed to the entrance to see the boy back at the fence, lighting up a molotov and throwing it at the damn tank.
"ELLIS!" He screamed, the kid continuing to fight the tank. He knew what he was thinking... It was paying attention to him, and as long as it was paying attention to him, it wasn't moving toward the helicoptor.
No.
"ELLIS! YOU LITTLE SHIT! JUST GET IN THE HELICOPTOR AND WE'LL FLY OFF BEFORE IT CAN GET IN!" He screamed over the helicoptor's roaring blades.
"YOU KNOW THA' AIN'T HAPPENIN', NICK! GET GOIN' 'FORE SOMETHIN' ELSE GETS Y'ALL!" He rushed further away from the helicoptor, keeping the tank's attention. "I AIN'T GON' LET ANY O' YA DIE!"
The tank got close enough to hit Ellis, throwing him into the side of a bus. His wide eyes were full of pain and he would have screamed if the air hadn't gotten knocked out of his lungs. There were probably a few broken ribs there too.
They were frozen in place, unable to move as they watched the tank get closer and closer to Ellis. If they ran for it, they wouldn't be able to get there in time. No way.
Not that Nick wasn't willing to take a gamble.
As the tank then rushed at Ellis as the kid began to fall to the ground, Nick ran out of the chopper, shooting at the tank as he went. He had to kill it. Had to kill it before it killed Ellis.
The tank was pounding it's giant fists into Ellis's form for a moment before it noticed the other standing figure. It growled, rushing at Nick. Had to take them down. Had to take them all down.
Ellis had gotten a good dent into the monster, bullet holes running over it's entire form. Nick began guiding it away from Ellis, attempting to run backwards as he shot the giant mercilessly. He only hoped he could do this anywhere close to as well as Ellis could. Right now would not be the time to trip. He could hear screaming from somewhere. Feminine. Likely Rochelle. Didn't matter right now. He had to kill it.
It took a few times dodging items on the ground and running backwards in a circle before the tank finally fell, it's burning body falling to the ground so hard the ground shook beneath their feet. He didn't even allow himself time to catch his breath, rushing over to grab up Ellis's body. No time to check. No time. He's okay. He's okay. He's still breathing.
As they got into the helicoptor, the door quickly closed and the vehicle began rising into the air. Nick got on his knees, setting the boy's body down but keeping his head elevated. He was breathing strange. Ragged and inconsistent. "Kid. Kid, you better talk to me or I swear I'll kill you myself."
Ellis gave him a soft, weak smile, some blood trickling down from his mouth and over his chin. "I...know ya...ain't gon' do tha'....Suit..." Between each word, he seemed to be taking in deep gulps of breath.
Nick let out a relieved breath, not even noticing he had been holding it in. "You gave us a damn good scare, Overalls. What the hell's wrong with you?" However, after another second's observation, all the relief left him once more. Something was wrong...Something was terribly wrong.
A quick glance at Coach's face confirmed it. He was a health teacher, right? He should be able to tell, right? No...No, he can't. He isn't a doctor. He....He has to be wrong. Rochelle looked scared, shaking a little with wide eyes, her hands fisting and un-fisting as if trying to find something to do with them.
"Kid, you listen to me. Don't talk. We need to get you help. I think you've punctured a lung." He looked up at Rochelle, trying to silently tell her to find a way to contact the pilot and get them some help, but Ellis reached up and gripped tightly to his suit jacket. That was definitely going to leave a stain, what with all the blood that currently coated the boy's fingers. But Nick couldn't bring himself to care as he stared down at Ellis with wide eyes.
"Yer....yer han's... shakin', Nick...." He moved to place his free hand on Nick's right. "Yer... gonna be... jus' fine..." He coughed, blood escaping his mouth again. "Tell...tell Keith...tha' I topped all...'is stupid stunts....by a mile..." He attempted a laugh, but it only ended in more coughing.
"No, stop. You're going to be fine. Rochelle's getting you help. Just stop talking. We don't need to hear you to know you're alive right now, kid. Just stop moving and talking so much."
"Nick....Please....fin' muh fam'ly....tell 'em...M'sorry..." Nick shook his head, his eyes never leaving the boy's face.
"Stop talking, god dammit!" He yelled, his hand only shaking worse, despite the boy's touch. No...No, this couldn't be happening. Not after everything! Not after all they'd been through!
"Nick..." He looked at him with a serious expression. "...You...fin' somethin'...ta be happy 'bout....ya hear?...Fin'...a way ta...love people...'gain....An'...an' know...I consider ya...a real goo' frien'..." He then glanced at Rochelle and Coach, smiling softly. "...Ro'...ya like a sister...ta me, girl...An' Coach...I ain't e'er had a good papa...Ya the bes' dad I e'er had."
Rochelle could hardly talk through her sobbing, but she leaned down beside Ellis, placing a hand on top of his. "Sw-sweetie....you'll be okay...Stop...stop talking like that..."
"Boy...Glad to hear that, cuz I consider ya to be the son I ne'er had....I'm sure the Lord gon' take care o' ya, Ellis....Yo' too good a kid for Him not ta." Coach muttered softly.
"N-no! He'll be okay! Stop talking like that!" Rochelle cried out, her sobs only getting worse.
Nick couldn't find his breath anymore, paralyzed and shaking. He could feel the boy growing more and more limp in his arms.
"I...I'll make sure He'll...make a special place...in Heaven...fer all o' ya...Ya all deserve it....An' I gon' wanna see...y'all 'gain...Soon as I....get...there..." He closed his eyes, his head rolling to the side on Nick's arm. After a long moment of silence, Coach leaned down to check his pulse. Rochelle watched him with scared eyes before Coach sighed and shook his head.
He was gone.
Nick didn't even need the confirmation. He could tell. His whole body was shaking, and Ellis was like a heavy ragdoll in his arms. Rochelle screamed, rushing over to Nick to start hitting him in his back. "You were supposed to be watching him! Why didn't you?! WHY?!" And Nick could only sit there, unwavering and taking the hits wordlessly.
She was right....This was all his fault.
Coach moved over to pull her away, wrapping his arms around her. "Shh, baby girl...This ain't anymore Nick's fault than it is yours...Come on...Let's go sit down, okay?"
Rochelle nodded hesitantly before following Coach to the other end of the helicoptor. He took a quick glance at Nick and decided to leave him. The man could cope in his own way. As long as he didn't mess up the body in any way then it would be okay.
And Nick no longer could even acknowledge the other two, only staring down at Ellis, his mind going everywhere and nowhere at once.
Why didn't you watch him?
Why did you let him die?
Why?
After a while, he hesitantly let go of the other, not wanting to give the impression he cared as much as he did. He slowly stood up, not facing the others as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket as well as a lighter. He didn't bother to ask if they would mind if he had a smoke, because, frankly, he couldn't care less. He needed the fucking nicotine right now. He had to place it in his mouth and use his left hand to light it, cuz his right hand was practically useless at that moment.
"Y'know all those things I said about you, Ellis?... I was joking..." He muttered once he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. He blew the smoke up, away from the body. When he glanced back down he was quiet a bit longer before leaning down and slowly pulling the hat off his head. The boy's hair was matted down under it, but it still poofed a little now that it was no longer constrained, the curliness of his hair letting itself be fully known.
"Got a feelin' you're not gonna get a proper burial, kid...So, I'll try to keep this thing safe for ya." He took another long drag of the cigarette before standing up, looking the cap over and trying to ignore the painful twist in his stomach.
"....You were a good kid...And I'm gonna miss ya."
He then moved to walk away from the corpse, but to the opposite side of the chopper from the other two, sitting down and staring off into space again. His whole body, expression, voice, all seemed calm.
Except his right hand, which he made sure to keep in his pocket, the cap folded up with it.
---
He had been right, on all accounts. When they examined Ellis's body, they'd determined he was a carrier, and had immediately had it cremated with all the other carrier's bodies. The rest of them had been fully immune and allowed to go back into society. Most of their clothes had been deemed too hazardous and taken away, but Nick made sure they merely washed the cap thoroughly and let him have it back. It had been damn hard, but he was good at convincing people...especially when money came into the question. He had been tempted to ask the same for his suit, but he knew that would be too much. It was a lost cause. Besides, he could get another one. He couldn't get another of Ellis's hat.
Ellis had never told them his last name, or Keith's last name, so Nick had no idea how to go about the boy's requests. And the requests that had to do with himself were even harder to figure out.
How could he learn to love people if the only one he'd gotten close to caring so much for in the past several years was dead?
After Coach had been reunited with his wife and two daughters and Rochelle had found her little brother and her parents, Nick had left them to their lives. They had a certain respect for each other, but he knew he didn't belong in their lives after this. He had always been a loner, anyway. He preferred to be alone. He went back to a life of gambling, women, and swindling, but it just didn't give him the same type of rush it had before. It still was a good source of income, though, so he kept on doing it.
If this didn't make him happy, then what would?
After about three years, a monument had been put up with the names of all those lost during the outbreak engraved into it. Nick had bought a special suit for the visit. Custom-fit Armani white with a blue dress shirt under it. Who cared if you were supposed to mourn with black? Fuck tradition. If Ellis really was watching, this would mean more, anyway.
He had found the kid's name after about an hour of searching. There really was too many names, but he had narrowed down the last name since Ellis wasn't a very common first name. He hadn't felt right approaching his family just yet, though, and had continued to put it off. They didn't need anymore reminders, especially so long after his death. Besides, that message had been simple and he was sure they would've known he'd tell them that anyway.
It was probably best he went down the way he did. Go out in a blaze of glory instead of being gassed and thrown into a pit of fire with no true regard to who he was or what he'd been through.
He lit up a cigarette, only just then noticing his hand was shaking. It hadn't the whole drive there. Must've been the memories. Whatever.
Of course, as he continued to stare at the name in front of him, he easily let his mind wander off. He could still clearly see Ellis's face if he thought about him. He could clearly hear his voice in his head. It was almost as if he was standing right by him, spouting off some other nonsense story about his buddy Keith or some shit like that. He only knew him for a little while, but it was enough for him to be one of the most important people in his life.
And, he'd never admit it, but he'd kill for one of those damned stories right now.
"...El, I gon' miss ya, man." A voice from beside him, completely different from the voice in his head. He opened his eyes, glancing over beside him at a guy that looked to be in his late 20s, maybe early thirties. He wore a black dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves to rest at his elbows. He wore black slacks as well, but he wasn't very clean shaven, a bit more stubble on him than Nick himself sported at the moment. What really stood out, though....was his skin.
This one time, muh buddy Keith, on a dare, got a tattoo: "I'm a moron" right across his forehead, man. ..
It was very faint, but if one looked, you could almost make out an 'MO' on his forehead. A tattoo that had been removed, but you could still make it out if you tried enough.
I ever tell you 'bout the time Keith and I made fireworks? Now, I di'n't know shit 'bout chemistry, but Keith figured "Gasoline burns, doe'n't it?" Heh, third-degree burns on 95 percent o' his body...
Of course, the tattoo had been cut off by a burn scar anyway, so only the first two letters remained. A fourth of his face looked as if it had been badly burned, as well as a good portion of his neck.
I ever tell you 'bout the time Keith tried to deep-fry a turkey? Third-degree burns over 90 percent of his body. His doctor called up, like, other doctors ta look at 'im cause they'd never seen burns on top o' existin' burns...
But that didn't compare to his arms, which were almost fully burn scars. Nick briefly wondered why this kid hadn't gotten plastic surgery yet, but then decided he might not have been rich enough to. That or he considered them battle scars and kept them for the memories.
I ever tell ya 'bout the time me and Keith made a homemade bumper car ride with ridin' mowers in his backyard? Mower blade wounds over 90 percent o' his body. I di'n't run him over, either; he somehow managed ta fall under his own...
The only thing that interrupted the burn scars were the scars that resembled long gashes along his arms. Sure, they didn't cover as much of his body as Ellis had made it sound, but they definitely were there.
Nick didn't bother to examine any further scars. There was no way this kid wasn't Keith, especially considering who he had spoken to just then. 'El', with a 'man' on the end. Definitely had to be Ellis. That was too rare of a name for a guy.
Nick pulled his cigarette out of his mouth, blowing the smoke out without much regard for the other. After all, he was probably used to the smell of smoke.
He glanced over at the man-Keith- and hesitantly put his arm over his shoulders.
"I ever tell ya about the time me and my buddy Ellis fought off a ton of zombies together?" The other man stiffened, eyes going wide as he looked over at Nick. "Now, they say zombies want to eat your brains, right? Wrong. They just want to beat and scratch you to a bloody pulp and eat at the remains." He took another drag at his cigarette before blowing the smoke out slowly. "This isn't so much of a funny story as it is a 'make ya think' story, but Ellis had always been one to make everyone else feel better, boost them up so they would see the fun side of things, even at the darkest of times. He made it seem like some game, killing zombies, counting headshots, running around giant monsters just whoopin' and yellin' like he was on some roller coaster ride. His methods were insane, but, through them, he probably kept all the rest of us sane. He was a real good shot too. Saved my ass more times than I can remember. Still, he cared more about us than himself, just because that's the kind of guy he was. He ended up dying saving the rest of us, and he wanted me to tell his other buddy, Keith, all about it."
Keith's breath was gone, staring at Nick in shock. Nick pulled away to get rid of his current cigarette, smushing it under his foot and pulling out another. He wasn't really a chain smoker, but he felt like he needed another right now.
"You....You were there?" The other finally managed to ask.
"Sure was, kid. He went out in a blaze of glory. You'd both feel proud of him and want to call him a stupid little fucker at the same time." He lit his cigarette before placing his lighter back in his jacket. "Tell you what," He took the cigarette from his mouth, holding it in his left hand, his right was in his pocket, now shaking way too much for his liking. "How about we go out for drinks and I tell you all about it? I'll pay."
Keith nodded before giving him a smirk. "A blaze o' glory, huh?"
Nick smirked back. "Hell yeah."
And as they moved to walk off, he felt something cold on his right hand...yet it seemed to fill the appendage with a strange warmth. He pulled his hand out, looking it over before he felt the warmth embrace him, almost like a hug. Almost like...
"Somethin' wrong, man?"
Nick looked up at the other, silent for a moment before placing his cigarette back in his mouth and shaking his head. "Nothing, kid. Just trying to remember the bars in this area. Got any particular ones you like?"
As Keith began spouting off names of the local bars in town, Nick hardly was paying attention. While he kept his eyes on him, his mind was completely elsewhere. He'd just wait until he was done and ask him which of those were his favorite. Simple. Funny, he'd pulled similar stuff on Ellis.
He felt that warmth again, and it seemed like it was pulling negativity from him and pulling a lot off his shoulders. He closed his eyes, indulging in it and breathing calmly.
It's okay, Nick. I ain't goin' nowhere.
He felt a soft smile grace his features, subtle and easily able to be masked as a smirk, but a smile nonetheless.
Keith was still talking. No wonder these two had gotten along so well. Neither of them knew when to shut up...But it wasn't too bad now. Kind of like a remake of a good movie. Has all the same elements and themes, but just isn't quite as good as the first. Still, he didn't mind.
Some remakes were still really good.
He could almost feel fingers ghosting over his shoulder and hand, soothing him.
E'erythin' gon' be okay, Nick. I promise.
Thanks, kid. He thought briefly. He wondered if this was real or if he'd finally gone crazy. Either way, it felt nice, so he couldn't care less.
Besides, his hand was no longer shaking.