Okay this is really really bad, seeming as I made this fanfiction at about 3:00 a.m. My brain was fried after this *sigh*. I was just getting done with another level of the Hard Rain campaign when a storyline popped up into my head, thus this fanfiction was born. I might be able to add more to this fanfiction than just one chapter, but I guess the reviews will help determine if I should continue or not. Anyway, please enjoy this tragic fanfiction, lovelies.
There didn't need to be any words. The silence was deafening enough for everyone. No looks of guilt or grief were exchanged, there didn't need to be. They knew what they were getting into, and they only expected something like this to happen. She had been like a mother to all of them, an anchor, and a shoulder to cry on. Why did she have to be ripped from them? She was so young, so much to look forward to when
if
they got rescued. It was only a matter of time before the others would get taken, killed in the most horrific ways out in the cold, in the night, in the rain. Speaking of which, hadn't let up since they crashed into the safe house. They were so close, the gas cans at their feet as they stared solemnly at the burger tank sign like it was some kind of haven for them.
That was their safety, that sign; that dark, lifeless sign that could stand for something so much more than a name of a diner. Once that light went on, then they could swarm to it, in the rain and lightning like moths to a flame and finally find safety. Finally be free, warm, happy and safe.
Everyone knew that wouldn't be the end of their troubles, for it was only just beginning. The neon sign was only just another chapter to this goddamned game they were playing. There would be no safe haven for them anymore. Hell had crawled up from its depths and licked the land in its fiery tongue, capturing up the people in its path.
They were just lucky enough not to succumb to the infection, to the blackness of defeat. They fought on; they were the angels of this wasteland.
The gambler got up from the floor, muddy pant legs dragging across the hardwood of the safe house as he made his way to the ammo pile. He picked out the ammo for this AK-47, scooping up cartridges like they were gold. Sweet, murdering gold. How he loved all of this murdering gold.
Nothing was said, only the sounds of scuffling dress shoes and rings scraping across wood surfaces. The southerner joined him after a couple seconds, desperately grabbing up ammo like a starving homeless man, baby blue eyes hollowed and devoid of all light and happiness. Goddamnit…he missed that kid's spunk.
He missed those baby blue eyes so full of thrill, life, a kind of hopeless hope that kept the group going. But Rochelle took that with her when she died. No, when she was slaughtered like a pig. That happiness went with her when she dangled lifelessly by the tongue of a Smoker while zombies picked at her like she was feed.
No, there was no more happiness. No more comforting words. No more sarcastic remarks cast from the gambler. Nothing.
A few words were said through the fog of awkward silence. Words that sliced through the fog like a knife. No, like fire. It burned the air, tinged the tongue, left the ears tingling from an imaginary heat. "Can we do this?"
It came from Coach, who stood near the kitchen, leaning against a counter. His tired and weary face was illuminated by the counter lights flickering on and off. His black eyes seemed almost so dilated they covered the white in his eyes, leaving him almost inhuman. His eyes were hollowed, sunken in from lack of sleep. His shoulders were slumped almost to the point of hunter-like. His body was decorated in blood and gore, shirt soaking wet and clinging to his body like a second skin.
Nick looked up slowly from the table, stuffing boxes of ammo into his deep dress pant pockets. He had stopped what he was doing; green eyes practically dead as they stared into Coach's black ones. He didn't give a hopeless, optimistic reply, didn't try to humor the man, only replied with a soft. "No."
The words stung with truth. It left the three of them in rather shock of the fact. No. No they couldn't do this. Even Ellis knew they couldn't do this. All hope had left when Rochelle left. Everything left when Rochelle did. Goddamnit she was the only one holding this time bomb of a group together. She was like their mother. No…she was their mother. Nick held back the hot tears that collected in the corners of his eyes. He thought no one saw, but Ellis did. Ellis sees everything.
"We should…get rested n' ever'thin'." Ellis murmured up from where he stood behind the gambler. Nick cast a glance behind him, glazed emerald eyes catching hollow baby blue ones. "If we wait too long—"
"I'll take the first watch." Coach stated, voice thick with hurt and grief as he stood up straight, hands in his pockets. He stared the younger men down, as if challenging them to argue back. No one did, they knew better.
The gambler stared Coach down, frown turning his face almost ancient as he nodded once. "I'll take second." This got a look of frustration from the hick as he pushed up from the wall he was leaning on, legs heavy from water. "Naw ah'll…ah'll take second watch." He said voice rather weak.
Nick shot the kid a harsh glare, shoulders stiffening as he turned on the youngest of the three. "No arguing. I take second watch." His voice cracked, and he stared at Ellis as if he didn't have the energy to argue. He was so tired…so tired of everything, and he couldn't keep track of the times he caught himself staring at his own gun with longing, wishing to taste copper against the roof of his mouth.
The kid only nodded, looking down at his rough and calloused hands. With the plans settling in the air, everyone got to their stations. Nick and Ellis took the only room in the house, while Coach took a seat at the couch, shotgun in his lap.
The hick closed the bedroom door slowly, looking up and gazing out of the window. The rain beat on, the steady rhythm almost soothing. The clouds were dark and grey, almost black, and flashes of light flickered across the canvas of grey as if a painter was making a mark.
His mind started to drift off to Rochelle. He wondered how she was now that she was safe, away from the harsh hell that was reality. He gazed at the sky, transfixed on it as Nick got ready for bed.
The gambler only watched him for a minute before he got ready. Weary legs stepped out of his pants, hanging them up on the bookshelf to drip dry. He lost his jacket, listening to it make noises as it hit the floor. He hung that up to, and finally unbuttoned the bloody and soaking blue undershirt of his suit. The weight came off of him almost heavenly. Goddamnit.
"Ya think Ro 's okay now?" Ellis finally asked, voice cracked and soft. Nick froze, heart squeezing in pain as the mention of the woman's name swam through his ears, danced around in his head. It took him far too long to answer the southerner. "Yea." He whispered, shoulders slumping as he buried his head in his hands.
God, he thought Ellis would be the first one to cry. Hell, maybe he did, I mean it was raining after all. Maybe some drops that fell down his cheeks were actually tears. Or maybe everyone dealt with grief a little differently. He felt the bed shift from weight as the hick suddenly sat down. Nick was about to look up to bitch about him going to bed in his soaking clothes, but when he looked up he found the hick to be utterly naked. He froze, clouded eyes staring straight into the kid's hollow baby blue orbs.
"We need tuh get warm…yer shiverin'." He murmured in response to his stare. Wait…what? No…no he wasn't going to do this. He knew exactly what the kid was meaning to say, and he wasn't going to do this. But the second the hick mentioned his shivering, he took note of how his entire body trembled and shook from the freezing cold rain that soaked through his skin and even chilled his bones.
A thick silence went between them before Nick could move. And he moved with a slow, almost timid pace as he peeled his briefs from his narrow hips, dropping them to the floor around his ankles. God, his heart was going a mile a minute, and he swore the kid could hear the hammering in his chest. "Ellis—"
"Jus' get in th' covers, Nick." He whispered, head tilted to the side slightly as he pushed back the thin blankets. The gambler obliged, slipping into the itchy blankets. He stared at Ellis in some kind of fear as the hick got in as well, suddenly wiggling close to him. He turned away from the hick, as if he could fool the hick into thinking he was already sleeping. Hot breath cascaded down his neck, giving his back an immense shiver.
Arms went around his waist, but he didn't move. He was frozen in place, the warm feeling that spread across his body giving him some unknown, foggy fear that he couldn't grip onto. No…no it wasn't a bad fear. It was almost a good fear, like he anticipated what was going to happen-. NO.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Ellis's face burrow into the back of his neck, hearing a soft huff escape his throat as the southerner tried to relax.
It was hard to, Ellis was nervous. His body itched to fidget and move, but he forced his mind and body to calm. His heart hammered against the older man's back. Shit, what was he doing? He knew how wrong this was, how horribly horribly
right
wrong this was, yet he still pressed against the gambler, soaking up as much warmth as he could. How could he keep this composure he had? He was practically trembling, and not from the cold that was starting to fade the more he clung to this conman, this gambler, this rude and bitter man.
"It should have been me." Nick suddenly said, eyes half open as he gazed at the wall. He couldn't help the statement from wiggling past his lips. Silence clung to the air, the only sound coming from the window as rain beat against it.
Ellis was in slight shock from this wonderment, and couldn't exactly think of a reply for such a thing as that. No. It shouldn't have been Nick. It shouldn't have been Rochelle. It shouldn't have been anyone. "Nick—"
"I mean I…I saw that Smoker bastard…but I couldn't…I didn't…" He choked off as a lump stopped him from talking, tears suddenly sliding freely down his cheeks. "It should have been me, Ellis." He murmured, shoulders shaking from the sobs that racked his naked body.
"Nick….Nick." Ellis murmured, grabbing his shoulder with a calloused hand, turning him over. Shit, seeing one of their most emotionless team members break down like this was one of the worst sites the hick had ever seen. The gambler, now on his back, gazed back at the hick with red rimmed, glazed green eyes. His teeth were ground together, and his chest heaved and moved up and down in short spurts. He only stared at Ellis, almost helpless, as the hick gave off one of his smiles.
There it was. There was that smile he had waited and wished to see for so long. There it was…
"Nick…it was not yer fault that Ro…that she…no one is blamin' yew at all…" He rubbed the man's shoulders, the shivering from before receding into only soft little trembles that sprung down his spine. Ellis and Coach would never blame Nick for anything that had happened, even though Nick may be convinced otherwise. "There was nothin' we could'a done…okay?" He stared down at the gambler, face suddenly falling as Nick didn't reply, only stared hopelessly up at him. "…Okay?"
Nick made a soft noise in his throat, slowly starting to relax from the tension, the arch in his back disappearing. How could Ellis even do this? How could he stay so calm in this utter Hell? He was only a…kid. Goddamnit he was a kid in the middle of probably the worst thing to ever sweep across this earth. And yet…he has been able to stay so calm, so reassuring…He was turning into Rochelle. Guess spending so much time with the reporter had made Ellis become the next mom-in-line. Nick liked that…but he didn't know why.
"Okay." He finally answered, his voice a barely audible sigh as he gripped the sheets rather tightly. "…Ellis I…why—"
" 'Cause ah care about yew…an…an Coach. Ah jus' don' wanna lose ever'one ah grew tah love…okay?" Ellis responded, head resting against the pillow. His hat fell from his head as he let his head fall back, curly locks of brown hair falling from its constraint under the trucker cap, tickling his face. He looked so…innocent, so child-like, new…not someone who's been puked, pounced, and clawed on for the past three weeks.
"An ah jus'…ah lost mah momma tuh this damn infection, Nick. Ah don't wanna lose such ah great guy like yew…" His eyes suddenly sprung to life, almost like how they were before the death of Rochelle only a couple hours ago. They shone against the grey light of the clouds outside, making him look plastic, fake…
"Go tuh sleep…" Ellis practically begged, bringing the covers up to under his chin, moving slightly to get closer to Nick's body heat. His naked thigh grazed against Nick's own and the gambler held back a shiver. All he wanted to do was curl up against that body, comfort that broken mechanic, fix him, mold him into a stronger image, and protect him from the dangers of outside those brick walls. He couldn't…he could barely protect himself as is.
Without another word he did as he wished, turning fully on his side toward the hick, curling up close to him, sharing the body heat they both so desperately needed. Arms tangled together as they drifted into nightmarish sleep. Clinging to each other as if the moment they closed their eyes, the demons of the dark would grab them, rip them from each other's hold and drag them into the night, into the rain…
Nick awoke with a start, a jolt to the chest, a gasp. He felt as though electricity was swimming through his veins, pumping in and out of his heart, infecting his brain, causing his lips to move silently as if he were speaking aloud. The nightmare was still fresh in his mind, the feeling of total helplessness, the screams of infected, and most importantly, the screams of Ellis. God those screams still bounced around in his head, driving him mad. He groped next to him, to make sure the mechanic was still there. He felt the rise and fall of a naked chest, neck, and then lips before he jerked his hand away, turning to gaze at the grey outline of the body next to him. Okay…there he was. Alive…alive and safe…for now.
He looked over at the door as it was knocked upon again, and shook his head of the remaining fog of sleep.
"Son, it's your turn for watch." The gruff voice of Coach came from beyond the door, and Nick scrambled for his clothes. The blue shirt was no longer soaked, but was freezing to the touch and it sent bolts of pain up his fingertips as he grabbed it. Hell with it, he needed clothes. He got his briefs and shirt on, scrambling to get on the damp pants that reeked of blood and dirty water.
With that, he headed to the door, opening it and nodding to Coach, letting him in. The gambler grabbed his gun which rested next to the door and took his seat on the couch near the entrance. His gaze targeted on the black sky outside, listening to the soft drum of rain. It had let down since earlier when there was still light, and that sent a wave of relief through his entire body, as exhausted as he was.
He hugged his gun to his chest, knees curled up under him as he stared at the blackness. The only light being registered was the lightning flashes that flickered outside. He chuckled slightly, the light reminding him of when he was just a young boy, staring out his window one stormy night. He was scared, so very goddamn scared, and had asked his mother why the sky was so angry. His mother only laughed her sweet, honey filled laugh and ruffled his dark brown hair, only to say 'oh honey, that's just God's angels taking pictures of the earth. Don't worry, darling, they won't get you as long as you are safe in the house.' Oh how those words brought him comfort.
Now, it only angered him to the very core. He didn't understand why…it just sent his jaw tightening, his teeth grinding together painfully, and his grip on the gun to tighten. He was so lost in his own memories that he didn't notice the body that sat next to him on the couch.
The hick startled him from his own rendezvous, jolting him back to the reality he was currently sitting in. "Thought ah'd join ya on watch, Nick." Ellis murmured. Nick turned to him, startled, green eyes widened in shock before he noticed the owner of the voice. The southerner had on his Bull Shifter's t-shirt and coveralls, but his hat sat in his lap instead of on top of that beautiful crop of sandy blonde hair. Nick had to say, the hick looked absolutely breathtaking without his hat covering those locks of hair. His eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of the room.
"Hope ya don' mind that, Nick." Ellis continued, noticing the absence of response from the gambler. What could he say? Jesus Christ Ellis you look absolutely beautiful right now? Or maybe something less obviously creepy? His mouth went dry, but shook his head and coughed to get his voice back. "I don't…uh I don't mind kid." He replied, cracking a wry smile at the hick. Ellis returned the smile with a witty grin, lying back against the old worn couch.
God that grin…
"Why aren't you asleep though, Overalls?" Nick asked, turning back to the safe house door, tired eyes gazing intently out of the barred up window. Ellis shrugged softly, his calm stature making Nick almost hostile, as if the hick could tap into his mind, read what he was thinking…all of his dark secrets…
"Ah felt ya not there 'nymore…kinda wanted tuh be 'round yew right now." His eyes shyly looked down at his hat as he messed with the bill of it, pulling out loose thread and scraping dirt and scum off of the bill with a nail. Nick smiled in response, moving to give Ellis his full attention. "What's up, El?"
The kid looked up; eyes quickly averting the conman's to gaze back down at his hat. "Ah uh…jus'…if yew got a lil…uncomf'rtable with what happened in there earlier then ah…"
"It was fine, Ellis." Nick responded, putting a hand up to stop him. His smile was soft, genuine, comforting. God it felt so good to smile again.
"Naw man ah mean…" He fumbled for something to say, something to get past this awkward statement… "Ah jus' thought yew wanted tuh an'…"
"Ellis. Seriously. It's alright. I was freezing and you…you helped me get better." Nick replied, placing the gun down on the ground next to the couch, looking back up at the hick. Ellis went crimson, scratching his head, curly brown hair bouncing cutely before they settled back down like before.
"Ah guess ah jus'…needed some form ah comfort from what had happened n'…" He trailed off from that, looking up and catching those green emerald orbs in a gaze. Shit, if only Nick knew what he did to him. Being so close to him when they were asleep was surreal, and he almost wanted to weep when the gambler had to get up for watch duty. He found himself lost in those eyes that could be so stern and sharp they could make a blind man shiver.
"Overalls…hey come on, what is it? You're acting funny." Nick mumbled, leaning forward slightly as Ellis looked away quickly, cheeks dark. No…No he couldn't tell him what he was thinking…
"You can lie down if you want to, Ellis. You look tired…you need the sleep." Nick finally said after a moment, lifting his arm and putting his feet on the ground, as if to allow the hick to rest his head on his leg and drift off while he kept watch. The southerner looked up a second before nodding, lying down and curling up on the couch, letting his head rest on the gambler's leg. The second his head hit the gambler's thigh, he was fast asleep.
The rain was pouring down. Lightning, hard rain, the cry of infected, it all mingled together in one continuous roar that shook the earth. In the gambler's mind, he kept singing, kept singing as he rushed through the knee high water, heading toward the burger tank sign, hopeless, desperate:
I'm waking up to ash and Dust
I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust
I'm breathing in the chemicals
He tripped, fell into the water, the world going silent for only a second as he felt water splash around him. An arm went around him, and he was suddenly being helped back up. His eyes met Ellis's, and he nodded and grabbed onto his hand as they headed toward the sign, keeping close to Coach. Goddamnit, they were so close.
I'm breaking in, shaping up, checking out on the prison bus
This is it, the apocalypse
Whoa
Fingers intertwined, gripping tightly, not letting go. He could feel the fear in Ellis's body as they climbed the ladder to the rooftop, scrambling for the generator. Coach slipped. He slipped and they couldn't catch him. Ellis cried out, letting go of Nick for a split second, and the gambler hated that feeling. He hated the feeling of rain meeting his palm instead of the hick's own calloused hand. He saw the hick lean over the edge of the roof, calling down. His voice was drowned out by thunder, horrible timing.
I'm waking up. I feel it in my bones
Enough to make my systems blow
Welcome to the new age, to the new age
Welcome to the new age, to the new age
Nick turned the generator on, screaming to Ellis. The hick couldn't hear him as the roar of infected sounded over the horizon. That deafening, hellish sound of the infected. The sign came to life, and Nick looked up at the sign, up at the sky, rain pouring down his face. That sign. That goddamn sign, after all this time, was finally alive. They were safe…they were so safe…in peace…
Whoa whoa, Whoa whoa, whoa, I'm radioactive, radioactive
Whoa whoa, whoa whoa, whoa, I'm radioactive, radioactive
That was when he heard it. He heard Ellis. Ellis was screaming. He was screaming for help, and Goddamnit was it a horrible noise. Nick scrambled to his feet, slipping slightly on the rooftop as he rushed for Ellis. The kid was dangling over the roof, staring down at Coach as he was ripped apart from infected down below. The fall had injured him badly, snapped his spine. He couldn't feel his legs…or so he thought. The infected tore through him, teeth ripping through flesh and tendons like paper and ribbons, blood swirling through the water like an oil canvas. There was nothing they could do.
The gambler grabbed the southerner's collar, pulling him back, falling back onto the roof as the hick collided to his chest. The screams had died down to choked cries, and Ellis helped in adding to the noise, screaming and sobbing into his chest. Not even the storm could drown out that Godforsaken noise…
I raise my flag, don my clothes
It's a revolution, I suppose
We're painted red to fit right in
Whoa
They had shot down the raging infected below, moving down to the diner, grabbing supplies. Nick had to keep Ellis from running out into the storm. He understood Ellis's rage, watching someone he grew close to die in front of him. Nick understood, but he had to keep Ellis from ending up just like poor old Coach…
I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus
This is it, the apocalypse
Whoa
Suddenly, hands gripped Nick's shirt in a vice like grip, shoving him against a wall. The kid was hysterical, staring at the gambler with wide, hollowed eyes. Water dripped down his face, chin, and his hair sent water droplets everywhere. He stared at Nick with those insane baby blue eyes. "NICK…NICK AH WANT YEW TUH KNOW THIS…AH WANT YEW TUH KNOW THIS B'FORE SOMETHIN' BAD HAPPENS TUH ME ER…ER YEW AH…"
The hysteric voice was silenced as Ellis pulled him by the collar, smashing their lips together in a bruising kiss. Nothing about it was romantic. Nothing about it was loving or soft. It was desperate. It was sad and desperate, but Nick returned it before he could think about it. And for a second, for a split second everything around the gambler just…vanished. The storm seemed to disappear, the thoughts of death lingering over their heads just…floated away like smoke in the air…
I'm waking up; I feel it in my bones
Enough to make my systems blow
Welcome to the new age, to the new age
Welcome to the new age, to the new age
But it was short lived. It was so short lived, and Nick despised it. He hated everything about everything right now. He hated the water, he hated the storm, the zombies, the sickness, the sadness, and how Ellis seemed so unlike himself. He pulled away the minute he heard the roar of infected drown out his little moment. His lips stung from the force of the kiss, but he didn't mind, hell he even liked it.
He pushed Ellis behind him, AK-47 pointing out into the misty road outside, waiting, preparing. They came in waves, never-ending, almost impossible to kill. The rain made it so hard to kill them, to slow them down…it was almost a never ending wave. Soon, Ellis joined him, firing out into the crowd. The hick's hand went around a pipe bomb, he threw it. It blinked, bleeped…
Whoa whoa, whoa whoa, whoa I'm radioactive, radioactive
Whoa whoa, whoa whoa, whoa I'm radioactive, radioactive
Suddenly. He heard it. No…no he felt it. The boat. The scream of the horn. It was here…oh sweet merciful heavens the rescue was here.
Ellis was limping. Goddamnit, walk faster you idiot! They were so close, so close to safety…to peace…maybe even to each other. Goddamnit…hurry. The mud and rain sucked on the hick's shoes, making it harder to walk…harder to move. He started to slow down almost to a crawling pace, and he called out for Nick. The noise was drowned out by lightning and thunder, and he started to cry.
Tears mixed with the rain as he collapsed in the water, mud covering his legs and arms, sucking him in. Sucking him into the ground…into hell.
Arms went around him, pulling him up from the water. A frustrated shout, a pull, and he was on his feet again. He could barely move, his legs were weak and weary. He couldn't do it. He couldn't…he couldn't move.
His lips parted so he could tell Nick to leave him, but before he could make coherent sentences, he felt his feet leave the earth. He was hauled up into the gambler's arms, into his strong hold. They were moving…they were getting closer. So close…so close to that goddamn boat, to goddamn safety. So close to food, water, maybe even a real shower.
So close…