"Hold still; I've done this before," Nick ordered.
Ellis complied, watching Nick pull a glove on his right hand. The older man worked methodically, cleaning the wounds on his chest as best as he could before using an antiseptic.
"I said hold still."
"It burns, man."
"That means it's working."
"It means it hurts."
"Don't be a smart ass."
On a few deeper cuts he placed butterfly closures before applying gauze pads. After a last once over, Nick pulled off his glove and put on the other.
"Next," he motioned to Rochelle, who had a burn on her arm thanks to a Spitter.
"Shit, Nick, where'd you learn to do somethin' like this?" Ellis winced as he put back on his tattered shirt.
"I used to be a doctor," he smirked as he applied a dressing to Rochelle's arm.
"No shit? That's cool, man," the younger man's face lit up, "I ain't never known a doctor outside of, like, havin' to go to 'em if I'm sick or if Keith broke somethin'. Guess it's pretty lucky we gotchu."
"Yeah, it almost makes putting up with your shit worth it," Coach laughed.
"Hey now." Nick finished his work.
"Thanks, Nick," Rochelle smiled sweetly.
"Anytime."
"Everyone got their shit together?" Coach asked and waited for an affirmative answer. "All right people, let's move."
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
A forewarning to help you decide if this story is for you. This is post infection, features established Nellis, with kids. If none of those things bother you, then please enjoy. If none of this interests you, I apologize. Go read Reaching Farther. Thanks for your time.
Disclaimer: I don't own L4D2. If I did, weirder things would happen.
