Disclaimer: Nick and Ellis belong to VALVE.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
This couldn't be happening. No, it couldn't. Not after all they'd been through. Not after they'd lost Coach and Rochelle. It just wasn't fucking possible.
And yet it was happening.
God, how had he been so blind? He should have seen the signs. He should have seen it in the way Ellis had so persistently bandaged himself up after he'd saved him from that Hunter. He should have seen it in the way Ellis kept rubbing his neck in the spot he'd been wounded. In the way Ellis got weaker instead of healthier. In the way he caught Ellis looking at him with that horrible hunger in his eyes. But, he did see it all. And he just ignored it. Just fucking ignored it. Just brushed it off like he was imagining that shit.
And now Nick stood there, holding a pistol to Ellis's face.
Only moments ago, they'd been walking—cautiously, as it was the middle of the night—through New Orleans, looking desperately for a safehouse. And Ellis tried to bite him. Fucking bite him. There were teeth marks in his white suit on his arm, but thankfully no puncture wounds. That's when he finally snapped and grabbed that gauze around the hick's throat and tore it apart. And he found it. The Hunter bite. And even though it had been days, that wound looked fresh—so fresh that blood still trickled from the teeth marks.
And on complete instinct he raised his pistol to Ellis's forehead, the barrel hardly a foot from his skull.
This wasn't fucking happening.
"Shit…" Nick hissed between gritted teeth, "Shit! Why didn't you tell me?" Ellis just stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, and in those ice-blue irises the conman could tell that he wasn't shocked from the gun suddenly in his face, but because of what he'd just tried to do.
"N-Nick." Ellis's voice wavered. He swallowed slowly as if to continue, but said nothing. He just wanted the gun out of his face—so that if he said the wrong thing, he wouldn't have to worry about a bullet intercepting his thoughts. Well that was too fucking bad for him. Nick kept his gun trained on the mechanic's forehead, waiting. Finally, he spoke. "I… I didn' know, man. I though' it would jus' go away. I didn' think… I didn' think tha'…"
"Yeah, you didn't think." Nick took a step forward, the end of his pistol now just barely an inch away from his temple. "Shit ending, Ellis." And to his surprise, the hick smiled. Fucking smiled.
"Yeah, well, figured I was gonna go soon…" His smile dropped after a second of silence. "Alright. Shoot me."
"… What?"
"Ya heard me man. Shoot me." Nick felt his hand start to shake then, and he made no move for the trigger. How…? How could he welcome death so damn easily? Wasn't he always the one cheering about how they'd make it? How this was all just some big joke?
"Ellis, this isn't a video game. Once you're dead, you're dead."
"But I'm already dead, aren't I?" Ellis muttered in reply. Nick's gaze, that had wandered to stare at his pistol, was now set on Ellis's eyes. And they were shining. Shining with tears. "I was dead once I was bit. Can't change that. Figured I'd jus' turn into one a' them, but I guess gettin' killed would be better." And then he was crying, two steady streams of tears falling down his face. But he didn't sob or make a move to wipe the tears away. Like he was pretending they weren't there. "But I'll miss ya Nick. Thanks for everythin'." And he closed his eyes then, raising his arms in complete surrender.
And Nick just stood there. Fucking stood there, looking at the other like he was insane. How? How could he shoot Ellis? Sure, he was annoying as shit, but sometimes he was the one that kept him going, kept him wanting to live. And now he was willing to die, to give up life so damn easily? It was selfish. So fucking selfish.
And yet it wasn't. Because he was bitten. Dead already. And Nick didn't want to end his suffering. He was the selfish one.
Ellis opened his eyes then, wondering why the world hadn't gone dark. "N-Nick, come on. If you don't shoot me now, I'm gonna regret this."
Nick tried. He really did. But his hand was shaking so damn hard. He tried to steady his aim by holding the gun with two hands, but it only seemed to make it worse. And then he was blind. By tears. So many tears. Fuck, why was he crying? Because he wanted to kill him? Because he didn't? Shit, he didn't know what was right anymore. And like the kid knew what he was thinking, his frown disappeared. He smiled again. To reassure him. To coax him. But all it did was make him fall apart.
Because that smile was what he'd miss the most.
"I can't." he breathed. The gun clattered to the ground, and without even thinking, he had his arms around Ellis, holding him, squeezing him so fucking tight he might just die of suffocation. "I can't." And then he broke. He let the tears fall completely without shame, his breath hitching as he held the younger man, knowing he was alive, that he hadn't killed him. And yet knowing he would die anyway.
Only moments later, Ellis joined him, both of them crumpling down to their knees and embracing. Ellis sobbed in abandon, for so many reasons. Happy that Nick cared enough not to kill him, and yet in complete despair that he would die of the Infection. So he just held on to that moment, cherishing it, taking it in so completely, because for all he knew this would be his very last moment of happiness. Maybe for both of them. And it hurt so much to think about it. So much that they didn't want to believe what was happening. Didn't want to believe that it was the end. So they never let go. Not once. They tried so hard to let their minds go blank, to let everything fade into nothingness. But much like how Nick couldn't pull that trigger…
They couldn't. They just fucking couldn't.
A/N: I don't usually cuss like this in my stories, but whenever I imagine what Nick's thoughts would be, there's always swearing xD
Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this little drabble~ The idea for this was inspired by the fanart "Bitten..." by muse927 on deviantArt.
My first Left 4 Dead fanfiction, so critique would be very much appreciated. x3