Author's Note:

This is inspired by my fellow zombie-killer, Sanima, yelling at the bots when they got credit for killing the special infected that she had totally taken down.

Warnings; I've only played L4D2 a few times so things might not be extremely accurate or in character…and I feel like I will always write Nick inadequately after reading Disrupted-Original's Two Step. (Shameless plugging for the most epic L4D story out there.) But oh well. Hopefully it'll earn at least a weary grin.

So now that it is no longer burning a hole in my brain…-shrug- It's short. It's fairly pointless. Hope ya like it!

Disclaimer; I don't own the epicness that is this game. Valve does. Because they're epic.

The city was never really silent. Nowhere was anymore. There would be momentary lulls and the general area surrounding the survivors might be quiet, but there were always distant screeches and moans coming from somewhere.

It seemed to be during one of those lulls that the four were the most wary. When there were a few infected stumbling nearby, at least it was a visible enemy. When there was nothing obvious around, however, there was always the nagging feeling that something was waiting just around the corner. Most of the time that paranoia turned out to be accurate. They made their way as quietly as possible through an alley, guns half-raised and four sets of eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. Coach, having just gained a fully-loaded SMG, took point. Ellis scanned the back, scope trained carefully on the opening that led to the street while Nick and Rochelle would keep half an eye on the roofs to either side. They fell into such a formation easily now; a strong gun could take out a good chunk of a potential swarm that they might run into and the scope picked off any stragglers that may have been running late when they first passed through.

"I hate the silence," Nick suddenly growled, earning a quick glare from Coach.

"Keeps us from getting killed," the larger man muttered. "Now sta-heads up!" Each one of them flew to the wall instinctively, guns rising to shoulder level. Nick swore loudly as a wet splat gave away a Smoker's failed attempt at snatching him and he followed the tongue in his pistol's sight. Once again cursing the utter lack of correct ammunition for the shotgun on his shoulder, he scanned the rooftop quickly. Though it would be smarter to keep out of the survivor's line of sight, this one didn't appear to have a lot of common sense. It was half-leaning over the edge as if trying to figure out just what had gone amiss with its seemingly foolproof attack.

"Try and grab me, you little…" The crack of the gun was oddly satisfying and he let the slight recoil press him further against the wall in case the zombie took another shot at its luck. It didn't get a chance, however; the usual cloud of green smoke drifted idly down into the alley as it fell backwards. Nick hesitated a few seconds to be sure it didn't suddenly jump back up before giving a few short coughs into the crook of his elbow. He made every attempt to ignore the smell that probably radiated off of all of them and the permanent crust that seemed to coat his entire outfit. It didn't work as planned, though, and the man fought back a small gag. At Ellis's rather triumphant laugh, he glanced up and then blinked when the younger man gave Rochelle a quick clap on the back.

"Nice shot, Ro!" His voice was low, as usual - the gunfire might have already alerted a few wandering infected, but there was no need to call the rest of them. "Think it's too lame to say that Smoker just got smoked?" The woman chuckled wearily, shaking her head, though her eyes remained on the rooftop for a few extra moments.

"Way too lame. I hate those things…"

"Wait a second." The others turned to Nick as he raised his eyebrows at Rochelle. "I got that shot! I didn't even think you fired." She shook her head again, glancing once up at the slowly dissipating cloud of green smoke.

"Sorry Nick, but that one was mine. I saw it go down."

"So did I, at my shot-"

"Guys!" They cut off as Coach turned around again, gun lifting. "Ya both hit it. We've got other problems at the moment!" Apparently there had been a decent amount of infected loitering just around the next corner. Only about nine or ten, but it was nine or ten too many. Nick quickly stepped up to the other man's side, feeling rather than seeing Rochelle and Ellis fall in behind them facing the opposite direction. With Coach's rapid fire, they weren't able to get extremely close. One took advantage of Nick's slower gun and earned a swift kick to send it stumbling back again before meeting the pistol's bullet. The other two survivors began firing after a moment as well and Ellis growled under his breath, muttering sourly;

"Why do they gotta be so dammed fast?" A window that had looked intact as they passed was apparently cracked away in one corner and the zombies had no trouble in crashing through it. Though the small opening made it easy to shoot them as they came, they came quickly. Utterly bad timing was not helpful; right as Rochelle called out the customary "Reloading!" Ellis swore, his own gun sending off its last bullet.

"Cover me, I gotta reload!" the young man yelled. Nick immediately spun around, aiming carefully over Ellis as he crouched to shove in the next cartridge. As the last few emerging from the window were shot, they toppled to the asphalt with various thumps; the ex-conman managed a smirk, glancing behind him to confirm that Coach had finished off the others. There was a short silence - or as silent as it ever really got - before the group straightened in near unison and, panting slightly, took a quick inventory.

"Everyone good?" the black man inquired, wincing as he massaged his shoulder where the gun had recoiled. Three varied forms of the affirmative were muttered and Ellis frowned as he pulled off his backpack to glance inside.

"Runnin' low on ammo," he announced sullenly. "What do ya think the chances are of findin' sniper rifle shots in a house?" Nick snorted, instinctively touching his pockets to check his own spares.

" Low. A gun store might have some if we run across one." Coach shrugged, hefting his machine gun to rest on his left shoulder.

"We'll hold out. You got your pistol?" The young man nodded, tapping the gun he still had holstered at his side. "Good. Let's get movin'. I don't wanna have to meet more of 'em when we're boxed in like this." They moved off again, Rochelle automatically stepping up beside Nick. She was watching the roof carefully but he could still hear her when she finally spoke quietly.

"I shot him first." The suited man blinked once, glancing over at her with a raised brow.

"Excuse me?"

"That Smoker; you may have shot him, but I shot him first." Her expression when she looked at him quickly was carefully neutral but there was a hint of a smirk lying beneath the surface. Nick scoffed, turning his attention back to the opposite building.

"Right. You keep telling yourself that." The conversation was cut short as they emerged from the alley. A good deal of growls were earned, the infected apparently not too pleased to have their silence intruded on. As the survivors hefted their weapons again, backing up slightly to have the wall to their backs, Rochelle did manage a smirk. The first shot cracked through the small shopping plaza they had come across and it was met with screeches of displeasure.

"C'mon, you were almost grabbed." She somehow managed to make herself heard over the gunfire while peering down her gun's sight. "No way you can react that fast."

"And how do you know that?"

"I've seen you shoot for weeks, Nick. You're -" She cut off, swinging the butt of her gun instinctively at a zombie that had managed to slip up beside them. It had a bullet through its head before hitting the ground. "You're good, but not quite that fast." Nick returned her confident smirk and almost laughed.

"Yeah, well there are a lot of things you don't know about me." Rochelle was about to reply when Ellis's sudden loud laugh burst through the other noise.

"BOOM, headshot!" he crowed, immediately looking back down his scope. "I love this gun!" The other three rolled their eyes in near unison, though even Coach was almost smiling.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt to - get off of me you sick little freak - let up on some of that ego and admit I beat you." It was incredible the way they had perfected holding conversations while shoving attacks away at the same time.

"It's not the ego telling me I got it, it's simple fact." He impulsively spit to one side as a small piece of flying something managed to hit his mouth. Odd how things like that were barely noticed anymore; he would have been disinfecting for days if it had happened a month or two earlier.

"Well it's simple fact telling me-"

"Nick, Rochelle!" They both instantly turned to Ellis as Coach took down the last straggler with a final burst of his gun. The young man had an eyebrow raised and he hefted his rifle to his shoulder. "Is now really the best time?" There was a pause before the two glanced at each other quickly. Nick simply spit once more for good measure as Rochelle shrugged with an amused grin.

"Okay."

Lame ending is lame. I figure Ellis would want to get his two cents in there, though. X3

Yeah, random little thing. Not really any point. I just wanted it done so I could stop staring at it when I opened my computer.

Reviews are loved and all that. Even if you're telling me what I did wrong in great detail, I love 'em. (As long as it does have detail. I like improving.) They feed my brain. -omnomnom-

Many kudos to ya!

~Waggy