"You've got to be shitting me!" The older conman whined, rubbing his forefinger and thumb on the bridge of his nose. His younger friend stood next to him in the doorway of the room, his face full of confusion. Rochelle shoved the conman into the room, her nose crinkled up and her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "They only have two beds in this Swamp house, kay? Either share a bed with Ellis, or you can enjoy the damp concrete floor as your bed."

The conman narrowed his eyes at Rochelle. He knew he couldn't fight and win with Rochelle. Although she was the only girl in the team, she was tough on all of them. He sighed, finally giving up, and slipped his white jacket off and threw it on the old dresser that rested next to the lumpy bed.

"Oh, c'me on Nick. It ain't tha' bad, 'ight?" Ellis asked, untying his jean jacket from his hips and placing it where Nick stubbornly threw his own particle of clothing. Rochelle smiled, clearly noticing her triumph in yet another fight, and turned back to the living room of the Swamp safe house. "Sweet dreams."

"I never have then, Ro." Nick grumbled.

"I was talking to Ellis." She retorted as she walked away to the other smaller bedroom, where Coach was already heavily snoring.

Nick sighed, running his ring-covered fingers through his hair and turned to the bed to see Ellis staring him down with big, baby blue eyes. Nick halted, an eyebrow rising to his hair line. "May I help you?" He grumbled, not moving to get into bed with the strange kid.

Ellis's bottom lip trembled and Nick couldn't help but sigh and curse loudly in his head. This kid was so sensitive sometimes and Nick always felt guilty when he made him distressed or close to tears. To be honest, he felt bad for constantly tormenting and teasing the poor hick all the time. He had enough on his hands, his own home town and family being zombies.

"Ya hate meh, Nick?" Ellis asked, his baby blue eyes sparkling with fresh tears. Nick grinded his teeth together in frustration and shook his head as he moved to the bed and nestled on top of the covers while Ellis was underneath them.

Ellis narrowed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek and slipping through his puckered lips. Nick looked at him with guilt. "Ya act like eet all th' time, Nick. Ya act like ya hate meh…" He said, his thick southern accent drawling out and making Nick grit his teeth harder.

"I don't hate you." Nick said through clenched teeth. Ellis let another tear fall, this one dripping from his chin. "Ya lyin'!" He said, his voice trembling. Nick's teeth unclenched and he felt his eyebrows form from mad to concerned.

Ellis turned away from him, "I was j'st tryin' to brin' you happiness durin' this zombeh apocalypse…" Nick felt his stomach clench. The hick actually cared about him? He thought the kid hated him for how he treated him.

Great, now here comes the guilt. Nick thought, sighing and resting his head against the concrete wall. Ellis only turned away from Nick, placing his hat on the ground and slamming his head on the pillow. "G'night, Nick." He said, clearly angry and sad from the conversation they had.

Nick sighed, looking at Ellis as the poor kid turned his back on him. The conman noticed how the hick's shoulders trembled that he was crying. Why cry because of me? He should be stronger, we're in the middle of a goddamn zombie apocalypse and yet all he cares about is making me feel better and not be depressed. Is he that unselfish? But as he got under the covers and let his head fall on the pillow, he thought that maybe it wasn't just because of "that he was depressed", he thought maybe it was something more…