Hey guys. So the next few chapters are where themes become much more mature (Harley's past includes drug use) and descriptive sex scenes as well. So you've been warned.

Fudge

Harley was in the backseat with Nick's head on her lap, Rochelle on the other side. They worked fast to clean out the wound of concrete and bacteria. Nick was still alive, but unconscious. Probably better that way, since the gash obviously needed stitching. Harley had no clue how to do that, so she let Rochelle take over. Rochelle was pretty good at it, only stopping a couple times to look away from the gore. Harley found herself running her hands through his thick black hair, trying to comfort him in any way.

The bleeding dried up as Rochelle finished, and Harley wrapped a thick dressing around it. They were safe, at least for a while. That was when everyone sighed collectively. Ellis rolled down the windows to let cool air wash over them, while Coach tinkered with the radio. Not like any radios would be broadcasting. But luckily, there was a CD in the slot, which played a band Harley wasn't familiar with. Coach said they were named "Sublime".

"Why's my head hurting, princess?" Nick groggily mumbled.

Harley gasped, looking down into his bluish green eyes. They shined with tears, which were wiped away by her careful thumbs.

"I liked your tattoo, by the way." Nick laughed, his voice raspy.

Harley rolled her eyes, a grin coming up on her lips. He was safe, thank god. Harley didn't know if she could take losing the person she was closest to out of the group. Which was surprising seeing the rough start they got off too. Yeah, he was a dick. But he also had a caring side to him that proved to her that he wasn't that bad of a guy.

"You have a tattoo?" Ellis asked.

"I have a couple." She corrected.

"I couldn't ever get into tattoos. Look like they hurt like hell, and were way too expensive." Rochelle added.

"My tattoos are really special to me. It's like a permeant reminder of good memories." Harley countered.

"Well you've seen my tattoo." Ellis wiggled his tribal cuff around his thick bicep, the arm of a strong mechanic. Harley could help but look down his strong hands before tearing her eyes away.

"That's a pussy tattoo." Harley then pulled up her shirt slightly, showing the side of her ribcage.

Flowers danced up her side, along with a hummingbird lapping at one of the open buds. Pastel carnations, deep red roses, and yellow tulips were perfectly arranged. The hummingbird was bright green with a red underbelly.

"That's really cool." Ellis had stopped the car to look at it.

Coach slapped the back of his head. "Get moving boy."

Ellis laughed and sped off, dodging cars and infected.

"I really liked your back one." Harley felt Nick's arm pull around her lower back, tracing the patterns softly.

"Get your hands off of me, pervert." Her tone was joking, poking fun at him.

"You both are dogs." Rochelle sounded disgusting, but she was smiling.

"What's on your back?" Ellis piped up.

"I have a couple. I have name, a mermaid, and bows on my upper thighs." She hesitated on the first one.

"Who's name? Please don't tell me it was some sleazy guy." Nick pressed.

"Uhmm…." Harley trailed off, obviously very uncomfortable.

"We've already questioned her enough, don't you think?" Coach snapped.

The rest of the trip was relatively quiet, only a few conversations coming up. Commenting on the weather, some past memories. Anything to get their minds off of things. The highway quickly turned to a dirt road, and fields of cotton took over. No buildings, no infected. Just a dirt road and some good music. Ellis pulled off when they found a barn, a home right behind it. This would do for the night. The sun was just beginning to skirt below the earth, deep orange lighting the twilight.

"Can you walk?" She asked Nick.

"I'll manage, cupcake." He got out after her. He was wobbling but could still function.

He started to pull out a cigarette, but Rochelle cleared her throat. "You smoke those, you go out to the barn."

"Okay, mom." Nick lulled, pushing her side playfully.

They carefully assessed the house. Harley went into the master bedroom, gasping at the sight. Two lovers were hanging in the closet, their disintegrating hands intertwined. They had killed themselves when shit went to hell. She shook her head at the somber sight. Ellis trudged up the stairs, coming up behind her and startling her.

"Shit." He whispered.

"What should we do?" Harley's voice was a whisper.

"I think we should give them a proper burial." Ellis hastily went downstairs, telling the others.

"HOLY SHIT YES!" Nick exclaimed loudly. "THERES FUCKING BOOZE."

Harley grinned, running down the stairs to the kitchen.

Nick opened the full refrigerator, which surprisingly was still cold. Six packs of beer and a couple bottles of hard liquor were stored, as well as tantalizing meat and cheeses. She was practically salivating.

"We're gonna go out in the back and help Ellis." Coach walked by, his gun in his hands. "y'all should probably come out."

Nick was rifling through the kitchen, and produced a package of red solo cups. He poured a whiskey on the rocks for both of them. He eyed her carefully as she took a drink. She contorted her face into a sneer and flipped him off. Nick rolled his eyes and brought out two six packs for the others. They walked out, a perfect view of the sunset in the background. They sat on the wooden porch, watching the others. Coach and Ellis were digging two deep holes, while Rochelle sat on a rocking swing tied to two towering trees. Nick obviously could strain his head, so he stayed put.

"This is… Nice." Harley muttered, the whiskey numbing her tongue slightly.

"I'd agree." Nick brought his cup to hers in a silent 'cheers'.

"I can't remember the last time i've seen a sunset this clear before." Harley sighed at the pretty sunset.

"Why's that?" Nick asked after taking a swig of his drink.

"Toronto was a big city. Light pollution and the buildings by my apartment complex made it pretty hard to see a good one."

"Vegas was practically the same." Nick responded.

She felt Nicks arm behind her back, but this time she didn't bat it away. It felt good to be in his arms. Did she have feelings for him? Not really. But the comfort of human touch calmed her. Ellis brought out the two bodies, which smelled awful. Their skin basically turned into dust as he threw them carefully into the holes. Harley tried to focus on the sun, which dipped halfway between the horizon and the sky. Deep purples, reds and oranges danced across the sky.

Coach grabbed a beer and popped the lid off on the deck, handing an opened one to Rochelle. Ellis went to go wash himself off.

"Guys?" Ellis came out after a little bit.

All eyes turned to him. "There's only four bedrooms. Someones gotta bunk up together."

"Well why don't Rochelle and Harley take a bedroom?" Coach suggested.

"No, I'll stay with Harley." Nick piped up.

Harley knitted her brows and looked at Nick. "Why?"

"Well we know each other the best. Wouldn't be weird or anything."

"Y'all better not be bumping uglies up there after we go to bed." Coach growled, trying to sound menacing.

They all laughed, and Nick went into the kitchen to refill his and Harley's whiskey. Ellis was searching around the large backyard for wood to start a bonfire. After he set up a decent campfire, they dragged lawn chairs to surround it. Harley brought her gun out just in case an infected roamed by and was attracted to the fire.

Ellis was humming a rock song, while Rochelle took off her shoes and warmed her feet on the rocks surrounding the fire. Once the sun had dipped below the Earth, a chill came into the air. Harley had pulled her sweatshirt on, but was still shaking from the cold. Nick got up out of his seat and wrapped his (what once was white) jacket around her shoulders. She gave a silent 'thanks' and threw back her third solo cup of whisky. Her body was tingling and she found herself laughing at Ellis' stupid jokes.

"Looks like someone's shit faced." Coach joked, tipping his beer in her direction.

"I am" Harley hiccuped "Not drunk at all."

Everyone let out a collective laugh at Harley. She blushed deep red. "Fuck you guys!"

The fire slowly went out, and one by one everyone started to retire. Coach went first, followed by Rochelle and then finally Ellis. Harley and Nick were out there alone now. The fire was nothing but deep red embers. Harley got up, leaving Nick alone in the darkness.

"Thanks for the jacket." Harley handed it back to him.

He just grunted in response. Harley walked back into the house, finding the electricity and water were still on. Seemed like this house had a well and some sort of generator. She walked up to the only unclaimed bedroom, which was a homey looking room with a Queen bed in the middle. She peeled off her clothes, which already were speckled with blood and guts. Harley turned on the shower, waiting a few minutes until the mirror in the room was steamed up to get in. The burning hot water surprised her, and she let out a yelp before turning the knob down.

The water felt so luxurious on her skin, and she spent a good five minutes just standing in it. Then, she washed her body with a bar of soap, and lathered her hair up with shampoo. It was knotty and disgusting, so she had to wash it twice. Harley took the razor which was hanging from the wall, and shaved her body bare. It felt good to get the grime and gunk off of her.

She heard the door in the room close, as Nick obviously was ready to get clean. She turned the shower off and covered herself in a towel, another one wrapped around her head. Harley padded from linoleum to spongey carpet. Her clothes were in her arms, which surprised Nick. He had taken his shirt off, leaving him only in his dress pants. He rifled through the closet, finding a black shirt and jeans that were his size. He wordlessly looked Harley up and down.

"I don't appreciate you eye fucking me, Suit." Harley teased, the alcohol making her bold.

"You are such a dork when you're drunk." He flicked my shoulder before going into the bathroom.

She got dressed in no hurry. Her hair was still up when she knocked on the bathroom door, needing a comb or brush.

"I need a comb for my hair." She called as loud as she could, but not yelling.

"Okay, just come in then?" Nick sounded confused.

She walked in, forcing her eyes not to look at the naked man in the shower. She got what she needed in a rush, her eyes solely fixed on the ground. They skirted to Nick, his naked body hidden behind a thick cloud of steam. Harley shook her head, mentally chastising herself. Nick is a friend. She repeated. You're just drunk.

She combed her dirty blonde hair, the sun bringing out the white blonde highlights in it. Her hair was fully tangle free, and reached the bottom of her breasts. She never kept her hair this long, but it's not like she could cut it. At least, not well. Her hair was still damp, so she dried it with her towel. Nick turned the shower off and she heard the toilet flush, before he came out in nothing but a towel draped around his hips.

"Oh cmon, put some clothes on." She groaned, keeping eye contact with him.

"I'm not sleeping in jeans." Nick protested.

Harley rolled her eyes. The house was suddenly as cold as outdoors, and Harley was quickly shivering. She covered herself in the plush comforter and sheets, but that didn't stop her from shivering even more. Harley was used to the cold, living in Canada during the winter time was basically asking for frostbite. But since being in Georgia, she hadn't been cold in a while. Nick got into bed as well, but he wasn't cold.

"Y'know, I can keep you warm." Harley noticed the slur in Nick's voice.

"You're drunk." Harley tried to sound disgusted.

"So are you." Nick sighed.

"I'm not going to cuddle with you, Nick." Harley turned to face him.

His features were relaxed for the first time, not having to worry about imminent death. It was a sweet distraction, a fake safe haven. Harley noticed the stubble beginning to grow around his face, as well as how clear his eyes were. A color she could not describe, a grayish blue with no name. Before she could move away, his hand came up to caress her face.

"You look so much better when you aren't stressed." He muttered, trailing his hand down her face.

"Stop trying to get a piece of ass, Nick." Harley snorted.

"I'm not. I just think you should know you're worth more than you think." Nick sounded sincere, but knowing him, She knew it could be a ruse.

She sighed and rolled around to face the other direction, her eyes drooping with the impending sleep. Harley was still ice cold, and tried to cover up the best she could. Nick didn't even ask this time before wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing her into his heater like body. Harley didn't want to fight, as she wasn't shivering anymore.

"This doesn't mean I want you." Harley mumbled.

"Doesn't mean I want you either." Nick snapped.

That was the last thing she heard before she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Harley was sitting in her dorm room, studying her psych notes. She was finally finding a path she wanted to go down, and changed her major from Gen. Ed to Psychology. Her dorm mate was absent, Peyton was always out partying on Friday Nights. Harley didn't worry, she knew her best friend was smart and knew her limits. That didn't mean she was slightly concerned when Peyton didn't come back for a week at a time, but she always returned.

Harley heard a commotion outside, before a key slipped into the door and Peyton stumbled in. She had a man behind her, someone who instantly sketched Harley out. He was a scrawny, tall skater boy with shaggy hair and a beanie. He had acne, as well as other scars she had no explanation for.

"Hey, you're home early." Harley said over her notes.

"Yeah, needed somewhere more private." She turned to look at the man, who began to unpack a backpack.

"You aren't serious." Harley raised an eyebrow.

"No, we aren't fucking Harley." Peyton laughed. "We're shooting up."

Harley wasn't surprised. It wasn't the first time she had to babysit a tweaking Peyton. Didn't make her think any less of her friend, it was just disappointing that such a beautiful girl sold her life to drugs. They sat on the floor, playing music softly and pulling out their materials. Harley didn't realize that she was watching until Peyton caught her eye.

"C'mon Harley. Try it." Peyton begged.

"You know i'm not like that." Harley whined.

"One time won't kill you, unless you get hooked." The guy said.

He tied a rubber band around his upper arm, pulling out a needle and a sticky, brown substance. It looked disgusting. He mixed the drug with a little water in a metal spoon, putting a lighter under it. One it started bubbling, he pulled it through the needle and inserted it into his arm. Harley cringed a little, but the pleasure in his eyes interested her. He seemed to be in a different realm completely, and he quickly laid on the floor.

"You can do this." Peyton assured her.

Fuck it. Harley sat down on the floor, watching as Peyton did everything for her. She tied the arm thing around her, heated up the drug and inserted it into her. Her eyes glazed over, the rush so intense. Her vision shook, then spun. Her body was gone. But instead of remembering her first trip, she saw the eyes of Nick.

He was running from a tank, his eyes wide with fear. He had no gun, and his wound on his head was bleeding profusely. He tripped over a body and went down, the Tank barreling towards him.

Hope you enjoyed. I'm having a lot of fun writing this story. Make sure to comment or PM me.