This is basically set around a quote I heard on the radio- I don't know what movie it's from- but I loved it so much I had to include it in the last drabble. The rest of the nicknames are basically my brain vomiting all over the place. This isn't well written, but it's one in the morning and I had the urge to write. Bear with me.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Kid"

The sky was cast with a soggy reddish hue, mostly attributed to the multiple fires that spread out across the horizon. It added an additionally disturbing side-note to the whole idea that the world Ellis had grown up in was slowly descending into chaos.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The first time he had ever heard it was at his great-aunt's funeral. He hadn't been close to her. When he thought of Auntie Marge, Ellis could only conjure the scents of cheap, musky perfume and "plastic biscuits". The biscuits weren't necessarily bad, but even though they hadn't even been on the plastic plates when they were cooked, they had this revolting aftertaste about them. Trashy. If he had to describe Aunt Marge in one word it would have to be trashy.

Now, Ellis didn't like throwing around derogatory terms and nicknames. He understood that some people couldn't afford to have nice places and you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. It was one of those things his momma taught him from birth. He always got his stickers from memorizing the Good Lord's word in bible study and followed his teachers' instructions, and never raised his voice at his elders.

So, as the polite individual that he was, Ellis was naturally interested by the gambler that became part of his makeshift family.

He didn't understand Nick at first. Sometimes he was serious, other times he was sarcastic. You couldn't always tell the difference between the two. Ellis was mainly concerned as to why he always acted like he had a scarecrow pole up his ass.

It was a rather amusing thought that got him through most of the ridicule Nick sent his way.

Ellis had a tendency to space out sometimes. It was just a habit of his when he got to thinking too much. As it turned out, the very same man that sometimes repulsed the country boy with his stories of Vegas and the many lays and close calls with the police was the first to save his life.

"God damn it, kid." Nick swore, magnum still pointed down at the corpse of the neck-humper. "Get your head in the game!"

And so began the onslaught of nicknames.

"El"

Then came the time when they formally introduced themselves to each other.

They had all gone around, Coach to Nick to Rochelle- and when it came to the hick's turn he suddenly found he couldn't think what to say. It all came bubbling out, as it normally did when he was nervous. It was hard to keep your nerves about you when you were fighting back hoards of zombies.

"The name's Ellis. Ya can call me El, but it sure sounds a lot like a girl's name, so I'd really appre'shate it if ya jus' called me Ellis. Ya' see, my buddy Keith an' I thought it'd be ah good idea if we crashed this big New Year's party- but it turned out ya' had to have a date ya' know? After a round ah rock paper scissors I got in dis dress an'- ya know- it was a good idea an' all until we got to the bouncer-guy. 'E asked fer our names, and well, Ol' Keith, as flustered as could be- Alm'st called me Ellis, but 'e caught himself jus' in time-"

And that was when Rochelle began to snigger at him. His stomach dropped like a stone. If only someone had made him shut up- he had told himself before that he would never share that story with another living soul, and there he was, spilling the beans to people he hadn't known but for maybe a few hours.

"You dressed up like a chick just to crash some stupid party?" Nick's brow raised, visibly amused. "Was it worth it?"

"Not really." Ellis flushed. "Th' panties chafed. They were all lacy 'n shit."

They continued on through the apartment building, Nick in stitches with laughter. The only person that wasn't into the joke would have been Ellis, who felt significantly more embarrassed than he probably ever had in his life.

"Watch your step, El." Nick guffawed. "Don't wanna break a heel on these steps."

"Aylus"

Ellis was very comfortable with the way he spoke. Everyone else around him had talked like that too- there was the occasional tourist with a accent different from everyone else's, but he was never ridiculed for it.

Nick took quickly to imitating Ellis's native accent. It was derogative and hurtful in a way that he couldn't quite understand. The hick couldn't quite tell if this was one of Nick's ways of showing friendly affection or not. Sometimes he was as chill as a cucumber, other times as sour as a lemon.

Supposedly it was the stories about Keith that had started it. It was one of the ways that Ellis dealt with the fear that he tried to hide under his cheerful, childish façade. He feared that his family and friends were dead- there was always that possibility- and that once over the wall that blocked off the western U.S. from the east he would be alone.

So, he told stories. He told them stories of the happier, lost days of the past, with plenty of humor and excitement inside of them. He never got to completely finish a story. He knew they got on his teammate's nerves, but he couldn't help it. After a while together, he could tell it sort of calmed them down. If Ellis was telling a story, it meant everything was okay.

"Overalls"

The only reason why Nick had ever called him that was because he knew it bothered Ellis. They were coveralls, damn it. There was a significant difference, he argued, but Nick wouldn't be persuaded. Saying overalls made his choice of clothing sound ridiculous- who wore overalls to fight a hoard of zombies? Coveralls, however, lived up to their name. Infinitely more comfortable and reliable, they held up better than Nick's signature white suit.

It didn't ever stop him from calling Ellis overalls. In fact, in time it became a more affectionate term, and Ellis began to appreciate it.

"Cowboy"

After they had made it over the fabled hodge-podge wall of barricades and men with guns, checked over for any signs of infection, and settled into a new life, they had split up. Rochelle set off to Ontario for a new job in journalism. Coach went to coach at some high school in the hills. Nick and Ellis moved off to Nevada.

Nick and his old hat were the only reminders he had of his life in Savannah- give or take a few mental and physical scars. He couldn't simply let them go. Not after all he'd been through.

He couldn't recall when he and Nick's romance had started up, precisely, but it had simply just been there one day. Boom. It was sort-of embarrassing to admit that the head graduate of Southtown Baptist's Bible Preschool could have possibly fallen for a crude soul such as that man. Nick was a complete dick when it came down to it, but he was most definitely Ellis's diamond in the rough.

"I've never seen purple underwear before, cowboy." Nick's brow raised inquisitively, eyes sparkling with mischievous intent. He shifted slightly against Ellis, brushing his abdomen lightly against the tent in the said new underwear. Ellis groaned, back arching at the teasing touch.

"Why do you keep callin' me cowboy?" Ellis flushed as Nick moved in on him again, leaving dark marks on his collarbone. It wasn't that he didn't like the nickname, but it was politically incorrect. He was nothing like a cowboy.

Nick wasn't too keen on conversation at the moment, but he grunted in reply. "Is it a problem?"

"Well, no." Ellis frowned, gasping slightly as Nick's lips brushed across a perked nipple. "But…cowboys are always so valliant. They're han'some an' have high morals and take down th' bad guys to save their girls- don't need no payment or nothin'. It was their duty. An' they ride off into tha sunset with their favorite gal- and I for sure ain't got one of those." He groaned as a calloused hand massaged him through his remaining clothing, deciding to shut up.

"Shut up." Nick growled, pressing a rough kiss to Ellis's bruised lips. "You've got bigger balls than any of those stupid cowboys on the silver screen. I've seen you take on a goddamn tank with your .50 cal Desert Eagle- stupid yes, but I'd say that's pretty damn valliant."