Title: So Easy

Summary: It was all too easy to slip from reality and into the realm of imagination and deprivation. Luckily, Columbus always had someone to bring him back from the torment he caused himself.

Warnings: Angst, swears, gruesome descriptions, possible OOC-ness, slight yaoi...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Side Note: This is a teaser chapter. The next chapter will be around two to three thousand words.

He sighed to himself as he looked out the window of the small house that they were all shacked up in. Tallahassee and Wichita were sleeping in the bedroom upstairs; the girl quickly claiming the bed while the man rolled his eyes and cursed her out. It was not that he truly wanted the bed, Columbus reasoned, he wanted the opportunity to give it to her and one-up her.

Little Rock was sitting beside him on the couch as he moved to sit on the floor, patting the cushion behind him. "Lie down," he said softly, smiling slightly around the string that was in his mouth. "You look like you could use a rest."

"Are you sure?" Little Rock said as she looked at the lanky man sitting on the floor beside her.

"Yeah. I'll let you know if I see anything..." he said before lifting his double barrel shotgun slightly. Nodding, the young girl lied down before yawning.

"Thanks, Columbus."

"No problem," he said before looking at the fire that crackled softly in the fireplace before him. Although he was completely against having a fire lit all night; one stray ember could end up causing a fire which could burn down the entire house, which would draw the attention of any of the zombies that were staggering through the woods in search for any stray humans to eat, which would lead to a scramble and them driving through the night...again; he was quickly overruled. Even Tallahassee thought it was a good idea. Wichita and Little Rock wanted it for the warmth that it gave the house, even though he believed that they just thought it was aesthetically pleasing, and the Floridian did not want to listen to them "bitch an whine" until they both cave and give them what they want.

The fire brought out a different side of him, though. It kept bringing him back to sitting in the passenger's seat with Wichita telling him that his hometown had burned to the ground. He could feel the pit of his stomach sinking as he began to feel uneasy, not from his irritable bowel syndrome this time. His parents turned him into the shut-in that he is and they lived similar lifestyles. Never let anyone in, never get attached, have good hygiene... They would not have let someone who was terrified and attacked by a homeless man into their house. They would have watched the world go down around them...would have watched their house and hometown burn to the ground around their very heads.

...Or maybe they escaped?

Even as he thought of it, Columbus knew that it was a stupid thought. His parents, his neurotic, phobic parents, would never set foot outside unless in a controlled situation. A zombie apocalypse was not a controlled situation. They would have gone into their panic room. Oh, the panic room...

He closed his eyes as a tremor ran through his body, mind supplying the images of a past he tried to forget. Bare walls, unloving parents, antiseptic, homemade, sterile meals that lacked flavor but contained no additives... He could hear the fire cracking as it sucked the life out of the wood that it consumed and all he could think of was his parents' last moments. Did they hear the same thing as the flames engulfed their bodies? Did the scream in pain? Did they wonder if he was all right? ...Were their last thoughts of their only child who was away in college?

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and in lack of attention, he startled far more than usual, squeezing the trigger to his shotgun as he jumped. It was the hand of the "undead," of the still-alive-yet-dead bastards that roamed the planet looking for anything warm and soft to devour. He could see the zombie before he ever turned around, bile, pus, and think blood spilling from snarling lips as chipped and unsightly nails dug into his shoulders. He did not even hear it come into the house; the piercing screams and snarls that they let out when they discovered someone alive and well. Someone to be eaten...

Chips of wood and plaster rained down over his head as the shell tore through the ceiling above his head, hand gripping his shoulder tighter as a soft voice drawled out near his ear, warm breath heating his skin. "Woah, calm down, spit-fuck," Tallahassee said as he looked at the thin and heaving man that clutched his shotgun tightly. Little Rock and Wichita were watching him with worried eyes as the Floridian hick pulled him up to his feet.

"Are you all right?" Wichita asked before her eyes darted to the hole in the ceiling.

"F-fine," he muttered, while keeping his grip on the shotgun, keeping the weapon pressed to his chest. "I'm, just.. Fine, perfectly...fine."

Snorting, the taller man placed his hand against the ex-college student's back and gave him a gentle push. "Off to bed, princess," he drawled. Nodding, Columbus began to step towards the stairs, hands shaking as he turned to look back at his companions, three pairs of eyes watching him and making his body tense nervously. "You need more sleep then ya fucking let on."

"S-sorry," he said softly before looking at the hole. "I thought...sorry."

"You, too," Wichita said as she nudged her little sister. "We'll wake you up when it's morning." Little Rock nodded before walking over to Columbus and looking at him before heading upstairs.

"I'll just..." the lanky man began before Tallahassee cut him off.

"Get some sleep," he said before moving to take a seat on the couch, pulling out his knife and picking underneath his nails without even looking at the younger man. "Go on now." Nodding slightly, he began to walk towards the stairs before making his way to the bedroom. He smiled slightly when he saw Little Rock lying on half of the bed, leaving plenty of room for him to lie down and sleep beside her.

It was a large bed, so why did Wichita and Tallahassee argue about who was going to get it? Oh, yeah; pride. Pride was a funny thing, really. It made people suffer instead of swallowing it and asking for help. Pride gave people a false standard to hold themselves up to, something that they would rather die for than to admit that they failed. Pride went hand in hand with fear and he knew all too much about fear. Fear could cripple a person, make them freeze up or panic. Fear could kill someone just as easily as pride.

"Are you going to lie down or just stare at the covers?" Little Rock asked, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, yeah," Columbus said before moving to lie down, feeling embarrassed at having gotten caught up in his thoughts twice in the same night. "...Goodnight, Little Rock."

"Night, Columbus."

But he was not sure which would be his downfall: fear or pride?

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