A.N. Hey, did this thing. Look at it with your eyes. I'm not even sure what the point is, it's just a snapshot really. Mostly a test to see if I could write these two in character. I'm not sure how I did, I may continue too. I kind of did this in about 3 hours, whilst trying to do everything else in my silly little life. Anyway, if you like it, then do the right thing. (That means review).

Nice going, Bambi.

It had started back in the Sugar Mill. Capitalized forever in his mind as the day that nearly ruined them all. That kid, that stupid damn kid with his 'act first, think later when half your intestines are laying either side of you' attitude and real lack of brainpower.

He had made the mistake of taking Ellis for a competent – if overly talkative – guy. He could shoot better than both Coach and Rochelle, he could sniff our ammo at 30 paces and he had a sort of grace that came from having a lack of grace. The constant tripping and falling over his own feet, but never landing on his face. He'd fall, but with some unknown power would be able to right himself just in the nick of time.

It had baffled him, then it just got funny.

He was the first to snort as Ellis took another nose dive, stumbling and righting himself beside the con artist in the blink of an eye. Of course, Ellis had laughed along with it, even when the snort was followed by a "Nice going, Bambi". More than anything, Nick just wanted the stupid bloody grin to fall. Every time, every God damn time Nick had gone out of his way to be more spiteful than usual, Ellis had just grinned at him in that unfazed way - maybe he would be lucky enough to get a twitch - and marched on.

Rochelle, darling caring Rochelle with her Mother voice always just 5 seconds away, seemed to get more annoyed than the kid. The glares that scalded the back of his neck while she stomped behind, the way her eyebrows would draw together whenever she caught his eye… And lately, the knowing smirk and shake of the head that confused him to no end.

And all because of the stupid fucking Sugar Mill.

There had been rain and a howling wind, so loud in his ear he could not for the life of him decide if it was the weather or a witch on his ass. They'd pushed onwards, shouting to one another when they stood merely feet apart, bumping into each other and spending a God damn hour in a Sugar Cane plantation trying to find their way back to a lift. He'd nearly cracked.

Ellis had grinned, almost feral into the rain whilst tugging at Nick's sleeve. The conman had complained, half assed and with the wind stealing the words from his throat. Ellis, bless him, had tried to listen as he ranted and raved. He could see those eyes darting from his eyes to his lips, a frown creasing his brow before he had smiled softly and shrugged. Nick growled, once again never being heard and ripped his arm from the other's grip. The hurt look was lost on him as he shoved the younger harshly forward and followed close behind.

It couldn't have been more than a minute before Nick caught sight of the red glow that they had learnt to fear, the form stumbling through the field with her hair flapping heavily around her face. He had tried to stop Ellis, shouting over the wind but at the same time trying not to piss the woman off before them. He had to break into a shambling jog to catch up, nails trying so hard to find purchase on his shirt as the thing had hollered and turned, all eyes and claws. Finally, he paid attention.

Trying to trot backwards, struggling with his makeshift sling to release his shotgun from his back, Ellis had of course tripped. He had gone down to one knee trying to turn, the waterlogged field stilling any ideas of a swift getaway. Nick had already started shooting, feeling his heart literally hit his throat as the claw like hands passed by him and straight to Ellis who was still struggling to get upright.

The first strike hit him squarely between the shoulder blades, the second going from shoulder to spine...

After that, well, Nick can't really remember.

There was a lot of blood, he knew that much. The fact that his sleeves had gone such a fucking ugly pink served as a reminder. The logical part of his brain said he dealt with it, whilst Ellis had shouted and cried beneath with a growing puddle of red. Somehow he doubted it; the way Rochelle watched him like a hawk afterwards, the subject never brought up again. Something had happened and it was confusing as fuck.

It wasn't until later that he realised Ellis had been screaming, when his half sleeping mind had replayed the evening. Replayed the blood and high pitch of Ellis' scream coupled with the witch hollering and screeching over him. He couldn't decide whether he had imagined his own throat going hoarse as he unloaded a gun into her back, the familiar scratchiness that laced his oesophagus for hours after only annoying him further. Had he screamed? Screamed at the witch, or to Rochelle and Coach?

Screamed in fear?

That night had been horrible, with the kid pinned to a table by Coach as Rochelle went to work on his wounds. The crying, Nick decided, had been the worst part. He could hear it even two rooms away, the pitiful childlike whimpering of Ellis as he struggled against them and pleaded. Every now and then, there was a "Please stop, please. Just for'a second" or "Make it stop, please man jus' make it stop". Repeated over and over again, each time growing more and more desperate. Nick clamped both hands over his ears, for the millionth time, just wishing for one measly cigarette.

The pleading and bawling carried on for a few hours, into the early morning at the very least. The heavy sigh and lumbering form of Coach appearing in the doorway the only sign that he could move his hands, finally, from his ears.

Coach knocked quietly at the already open door, taking a step into the room and standing quietly with his eyes on Nick. Neither moved, Nick still sitting against the wall with his knees drawn to his chest slightly.

"Nick," Coach began, voice so tired it made him sleepy just to listen. "Rochelle, well," A pause, a sigh. "We both need a rest," Nick carried on staring. "Can you watch the kid?"

The silence lasted probably a beat too long, both of them staring dumbly at the other whilst lost in thought. It wasn't until Nick realised he had completely spaced out that he nodded once and stood, his knees clicking after finally moving for the first time in hours.

"Yeah, alright," he sighed, trying so hard to act put out that even he didn't believe it. Making a show of straightening out his jacket, then his hair, He walked casually out of the room with Coach looming close by. "What do you need me to do?"

He turned just on the threshold of the trashed kitchen, he could make out one of Ellis' comically oversized work boots hanging limply over the table as he turned to Coach. The big guy didn't reply for a few seconds, slightly confused as to his meaning too. "Uh, I suppose I just need you to make sure he don't roll over none in his sleep," A pause, Nick's deadpan stare making him continue. "Might tear a stitch."

Nick had nodded once, hands shoved deep into his pockets and stepping nimbly out of the way as Rochelle came around the corner covering a yawn with the back of one hand. She gave him a somewhat tired smile whilst Nick tried very hard to ignore the dab of blood smeared over her cheek, which only managed to draw her attention to it before she swiped at it with her fingertips.

Her mouth formed a little 'o', silently waltzing off to a bathroom.

He was getting a bit sick of the uncomfortable atmosphere, so leaving Coach with a final nod of the head Nick walked carelessly away. He acknowledged the "goodnight" from the man behind with a grunt and sat heavily beside the hick.

It wasn't until that moment that he realised, he really did not want to be here.

What if Ellis woke up in the dead of night, in agony and confused beyond belief? The pleas and curses of earlier had been so fucking slurred, it had scared Nick to listen. Not for Ellis, but for the absolute fear in his voice. The voice reserved for special occasions, like 'I think I am about to die'. The way he had babbled excessively, until the point where it had stopped making sense and merely turned into noise. Nick didn't think he could handle that as well as Ro', he couldn't Mother the kid back to sleep. He could curse and tell him to 'shut the fuck up', sure.

He sat staring at the boots to his left, hands clasped uselessly between his knees as he leaned forward in his chair. A quick glance through the safe room bars; he had hours to kill. It wasn't long before Nick started dozing off, his eyes shutting for an age before flickering open once more. Damn, now that everything was so quiet, he finally realised how exhausted he was.

Ellis had grunted in his sleep, jolting Nick back to Earth as he watched calloused hands claw the air at his side. Another real grunt, a grunt of someone finally realising the pain he was in. Nick watched a moment longer, not making his presence known until the absolute last second. He had groaned once last time, eyelids fluttered open with a sharp intake of breath.

"Awwwww, f-fuck" he had muttered, hands forming fists and staring helplessly at the ceiling. Even in the early morning light Nick could see the gritted teeth, the squinting eyes and the ever so slow breathing.

"You could say that, I suppose" Nick had quipped, rubbing at his eye with a knuckle and fighting the urge to yawn. It had been a seriously long day.

The hick's gaze had turned towards him without fully turning his head, just able to make out the movement by his side. Ellis had chuckled low, lips tightly held between his teeth until they tingled and the wave of pain from his chest moving had subsided.

"What you laughing at, Overalls?"

No reply, the very slightest shrug of one shoulder being the only response before he sighed and slid down in his chair a little. He watched without betraying any emotion as Ellis hissed and writhed in pain, seeming to rub his spine lightly on the table before jerking away and taking a sharp intake of breath.

"Nick?" Ellis asked in that little lost boy voice of his, Nick had merely hmm'd and carried on staring vacantly at the opposite wall. "I'm in'a lotta pain,"

So with a heavy sigh and on limbs that hated every movement, Nick had stood and started rummaging around in the darkness for a trusty white container, shaking a few bags as he came across them for the telltale rattle.

After what felt like forever, Ellis heard a pop and a rattle before Nick came walking back. One hand cupped, he unscrewed a bottle of water by flicking his thumb hard against the lid. It went skidding across the floor, lost in darkness and filth. He pushed the tablets into Ellis' hand, bottle offered as Ellis tried desperately to sip without either spilling it down his front or choking.

He failed both.

Swiping lazily at both his chin and t-shirt, Ellis laid back with a shaky breath and even shakier hands. The silence lasted an age yet again, leaving Nick to saunter casually over to the barred door and stare vacantly out at the shambling infected.

For the first time in a long time, Nick got sick of the silence that draped them both so heavily. He scratched hastily at one ear, before crossing his arms tightly against his chest and turning on the spot. What to say, being the only problem. Thankfully, Ellis spoke up the instant he realised Nick was watching him so eagerly.

"Man, I feel like shit," A sigh that seemed to sake Ellis a little bit too much. "Like every li'l part a me 'as been roughed up an' reheat'd," Nick said nothing, nodding lazily as he cleared his throat and stared somewhere to the right of Ellis. "Like I been flattened, then beaten, then -"

"Kid," Nick rubbed angrily at his eyes, trying so very hard to keep his voice to a gruff whisper as Ellis thankfully fell silent. "Can you not just stop?"

"Okay," his voice sounded so tiny in the dark, sad and shaky. "Just sayin'"

"I know, believe me," Nick strode back to his seat and literally fell into it. "You're lucky to be alive,"

"Nah man," he had started, eyes creasing in the corners as his open grin formed so quickly on his face. "That aint luck, that's skill."

And for some reason unbeknown to Nick, he snapped.

"You can be a right fucking idiot sometimes, you know that?" he paused before thinking better of it, steamrolling right over any objection the kid had. "Skill? You call falling on your idiot face and getting made into confetti skill?" A sharp laugh. "One of these days, kiddo, you're not gonna be so lucky."

The silence dragged on for so long, Nick wasn't sure if Ellis had fallen unconscious again. That was until he caught the slightest of shuffles as Ellis readied himself to speak.

"Man, it aint like I meant to," he offered feebly, one hand raised palm up as a sort of shrug. Nick snorted by his side, shaking his head but realising too late that Ellis missed it. "I jus di'n' see it, you know, the rain 'n' shit,"

"How is it even possible to miss a crying girl, who happens to fucking glow red?" Nick asked through gritted teeth, hands grappling with each other a little too tight. "Do you ever stop to think, 'Gee, is mighty wet ou' there. Betta take it slow," Nick drawled, completely missing the accent and knowing it too.

Ellis stayed quiet, something in his brain telling Nick that probably was a good thing. Kid was listening, or getting upset. Probably the latter.

"I mean, Jesus fucking Christ El," he shook his head fast, as if shaking himself dry. "Are you really that damn stupid? And then dragging me along for the ride. What if we both got hit, hmm?" No reply. "Who's gonna help you out then?" Once again, no reply. "Jesus Overalls, are you getting it yet?" He resisted the urge to knock the kid on his cap covered head with a fist, barely.

"N-nah man," A pause, an audible swallow. "I get it," Ellis was a little too quiet to be fine, breathing far too quietly like someone consciously controlling their own intake of air. "I'm sorry,"

Nick had just groaned, flopping back into his chair like a man giving up. "Why? Because I'm telling you it was wrong, or because you know you did the wrong thing?" Ellis kept quiet, yet again, for a moment too long as he tried to breathe evenly through the pain.

"'Cause you're upset wit' me,"

Nick could feel his eyes widening, even if he could barely see a damn thing with the sparse light fighting its way through the clouds outside. "I'm not upset," Was that lying? He was too tired to tell.

"Then why you shoutin'?"

Nick snorted, hard and with a bit of venom added for extra oomph. "I am not shouting," he stated evenly, voice an octave lower than a moment before. Maybe he had been shouting, maybe.

"You are, you're angry 'nd I'm sorry," Ellis fidgeted uselessly with his cap. "I won' do it ag'in."

Nick realised, quite rightly, that he had no more argument.

It wasn't for a good few hours after that before Nick fell asleep, listening to Rochelle potter around the ruined living room hopelessly searching for something they could use. He'd let Ellis sleep, the argument - or whatever the fuck it was - dying with it as he snored loudly beside the conman. So what if it didn't make sense, the kid seemed to get something out of it. Maybe he'd learn, but then again, this was Ellis.

Which left him with the situation now, the stupid damn hick rambling happily by his side about some bullshit or another as Nick tried so damn hard to tune him out before his ears started bleeding. There they were, Rochelle glancing back with that God damn knowing smirk on her face and Ellis glancing at him too often for him to even pretend he hadn't noticed.

Yeah, he'd really fucked up somewhere along the line. He wasn't sure where, but this was going to be hell.