Thank you everyone for your comments! I've gotten a lot of great ones so far, you guys are awesome! This chapter is pretty short but I wanted to let everyone know I'm not dead, just very busy (I graduate college in five days...wow...). But this fic has a long way to go before it's finished, so there's lots more to come.
Also, Murder Junkie asked if Ellis would lose his eyesight since the general consensus is that Hunters are blind/have no eyes. And I wasn't planning on it, in this fic Ellis' body is fighting the strain that he was infected with, so he has very mild mutations. For instance, his eyesight might not be as good as usual (kind of like me with my glasses off!) but he won't go completely blind. Unless I decide to torture him some more. =D
If anyone has any more questions, let me know! And I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can!
"He stinks," Nick remarked as they stood in front of the door, watching the boy lap at a dish of water.
"It's not...too bad."
"It's goddamn awful, Ro."
"Well...all right, yeah, he smells to high heaven. But what're we supposed to do? Give him a bath or something?"
Nick offered the other two a glance, his eyes raised, and immediately they knew what he was thinking. Coach just shook his head and held his palms up in defiance.
"No way, Nick. Ain't no way. That's just crazy."
Nick rolled his eyes. Not that he could blame the guy. Giving a bath to a crazed, well- muscled ex-mechanic with sharpened teeth and claws...well, it didn't seem like the greatest of ideas.
"Noted, but we can't just leave him to run around filthy like that. And I'm not going to resign him to just being some kind of animal," Nick remarked sourly, causing the others to turn toward him in awe. He glanced back, annoyed, "What?"
"Sorry, Nick, we're just not used to you...oh, how should I put this..."
"Expressin' your feelin's," Coach stated. Rochelle bobbed her head in agreement.
"Or even having feelings, for that matter," she joked.
Nick felt his mouth curve into a deep frown and crossed his arms. He was on the verge of saying something cynical; instead he caught himself and sighed.
"Well, I'm not giving up. I mean...let's face it, if he were a normal Hunter, he'd have torn us to shreds by now, after all the times we go into that room."
"All the times you go into that room," Coach corrected, though not without a hint of pride in his voice. The older man had never been too fond of Nick, but he had been exceptionally cordial the past few days after seeing the way Nick cared for the afflicted boy.
"Whatever. The point is, I think we're gonna have to treat him like a goddamn human being if we want the old Ellis back."
"Nick, treating someone like a human being?" Rochelle's pink lips curved upwards into a coy smirk.
"Ha ha ha. Well, are you two in or not? Because I can do this myself."
He couldn't, and they all knew it.
"Hey, El," Nick slipped into the cell, the other two following close behind him. Ellis looked up at them; lately he'd been giving a small growl whenever they entered or got too close, but it usually evaporated into sounds of curious sniffing as he investigated what they brought him.
And today it was something good.
"Hungry? Bet you are," Nick goaded, holding a Slim Jim out to Ellis. The boy sniffed, licked his lips, and made to pounce before Nick drew back, the dried meat high in the air, "Ah ah ah. No jumping. C'mere."
He dropped his hand again, waggling the Slim Jim at Ellis, who gave it a skeptical glance and approached slowly. Coach and Rochelle were beside him; Nick could feel the tension in their tired bodies. Behind her back, Rochelle held a needle filled with clear liquid tranquilizer; her thumb stood ready and trembling on the plunger.
Ellis eased forward, mouth snapping open and shut at the food. Nick tossed it in front of him and Ellis pounced on it.
And they pounced on him.
Ellis yelped and snarled, thrashing around wildly to snap and claw at them, but months of running and fighting had made them fast and agile; they leapt back and the syringe remained dangling by its needle from the skin of Ellis' thick arm, its plunger sunken and its contents delivered. Ellis squirmed about wildly, the Slim Jim forgotten on the floor beneath him. He whipped around to snarl at the trio, wanting to attack but not knowing which one to go for. He backed away from them and used his teeth to rip out the syringe, spitting it to the side in the corner and continuing his warning growls.
"It's all right, El...calm down..." Nick said softly, watching as the boy's eyelids drooped and his body began to sway. Ellis gave a tired shriek, slunk forward on all fours, then decided better of it and crawled back. He listed to the side and his shoulder hit the wall before sinking down to the cold concrete floor. There he breathed heavily, watching his former teammates through lidded eyes.
"You did good, El," Nick reached out a tentative hand to smooth down the dirty curls of the boy's hair. Ellis tried to reach a tired claw but only got it an inch off the ground before it fell back, limp.
Coach rolled in a loading dolly they had found tipped over in one of the storage rooms, and together he and Nick picked the boy up and deposited him on it as Rochelle watched, still trembling from the adrenaline of the encounter. Coach then took hold of the steering bar in his big hands and they rolled Ellis out the theater and down the hall.
Showers and baths didn't usually come standard at an elementary school, so either CEDA or the military had built an add-on room at the flank of the school, maze like in construction, with private showers set close together. Near the back of the add-on, a couple of rooms contained baths for those who had been too injured to stand in a shower; the baths largely went unused, however. In their experience, people that hurt never tended to last long.
They gently lay Ellis on the tile floor of the roomiest shower they could find, then stood, looking at him, then at each other. Then, with a clap to Nick's shoulder, Coach spoke.
"Well, Nick, get to cleanin' your boy."
"What? Me?"
"Well yeah, we figured you'd be the one to wash 'im."
"That's funny," Nick answered, though he really found nothing funny about it, "because I was actually expecting it to be Rochelle's job."
"Why me?" she huffed indignantly. Nick stuffed his hands into his pockets and muttered something about motherly duties.
"Nick, she ain't seen the boy naked before and I doubt she wants to now. You, though, you have. Undressin' him won't be a big problem, he's knocked out."
"Why don't you do it, Coach? You're the strongest of us."
"Boy..." Coach stepped forward, a finger raised in warning.
"All right!" Rochelle gave a loud sigh and held her hands up, separating the two men, "how about this? Nick, you and I will give Ellis his little shower, and Coach, you can stand out here and make sure nothing's coming. I mean, hey, there may still be some zombies running around here."
Coach couldn't help but shoot Nick a triumphant smile before turning away, eyes trained on the entryway and gun secure in his hands. Nick grumbled to himself and stepped with Rochelle past the gaudy plastic curtain and into the shower. Slowly, he kneeled and began to peel off the layers of Ellis' clothes. The boy was thoroughly drugged; even as Nick liberated him of his clothes, his eyes remained shut, his mouth slack and drooling.
Rochelle stood over them, making a marked effort to look away by studying the patterns on the ceiling.
"What," Nick asked as he noticed, irritated, "You've seen a naked guy before, right?"
"Of course!" she responded, an affronted look on her face, "Just...I mean, this is different. It's Ellis."
"How is that different? Besides, there's not much of him you haven't seen. He'd strip off his shirt and pants at a moment's notice. Remember?"
"Especially if you were around," she smirked. He decided to ignore that and stepped back to the shower's threshold, turning the water on in a thin stream.
The water never did get very hot even when the camp was running correctly, and when it did it took several minutes. They all agreed that time couldn't be wasted here, waiting for warm water or otherwise. So they had been taking cold showers and baths and Ellis would have to suffer through it as well.
Ellis yelped and groaned under the assault of the freezing spray, but still didn't open his eyes.
"You did good, Rochelle. Drugging him, I mean," Nick complimented and passed Rochelle an old, half-empty shampoo bottle and a torn washcloth. With a sigh, she uncapped it and poured the shampoo over the length of Ellis' body while shielding herself from the water.
"I don't know how I got roped up into this," she muttered, then leaned down despite the water and smoothed the washcloth over Ellis' body. She was tentative, hesitant. She wasn't afraid of Ellis right now; he wouldn't be getting up any time soon. But having her hands all over the naked boy beneath her, no matter how innocent the situation was, didn't feel right. Especially with Nick there.
Ellis was Nick's. The mechanic had let them all know that early on. The boy hadn't been clingy, in fact, public displays of affection embarrassed him. It had all been in the eyes, in the smile. He'd turn his blue gaze toward the unruffled conman and just watch and grin and anyone with half a brain could feel the adoration he felt for the older man.
Rochelle knew Ellis had loved them all in different ways. He had loved her as if she was an older sister, and she had loved him like he was her little brother. He had loved Coach like a father, a mentor, someone he could talk about The Midnight Riders and Jimmy Gibbs Jr. with.
And he had loved Nick like nothing or no one else.
Rochelle finished scrubbing him and stood, letting the water do the rest of the work for her. She looked to the side at Nick.
The man stood to the far side of the shower, one arm wound around his waist and the other pressed flat and hard against his face, palm and fingers covering up his eyes and nose and some of the wrinkles and scars on his forehead. She saw his mouth work slightly as if he was chewing on the insides of his cheeks, saw his adam's apple bob as he tried to swallow his sadness away.
And she knew it wasn't working.
From then on, Rochelle volunteered to wash Ellis. Nick and Coach would help with the sedation, the transportation and the sentry duties, but ridding the boy of filth was all her job. She could tell it had pained Nick to see the formerly bright and vibrant Ellis lying naked and helpless on a tile floor while someone washed him. And she cared for Nick despite his bad attitude and didn't want him to suffer more than he already had.
Today she had him in one of the tubs. Nick and Coach had given each other looks when Rochelle had remarked she'd be giving Ellis a bath today.
"Everyone likes a nice bath every now and then. And this way I won't get soaked," she had remarked simply and marched into the back room to fill up the tub. She had run the water cold, as usual, and currently Ellis was instinctively curled in a ball against the chill in the far end. He watched her wring out the tattered washcloth and bared his teeth when her hands flitted to close to him.
Rochelle was a bit worried. They'd been running out of tranquilizers and had been having to use smaller and smaller doses on the boy. As a result, Ellis was awake and wary during these events, though he couldn't quite coordinate his movements enough to do any real damage.
Sometimes Rochelle wondered why they were still trying.
And then she wondered how Nick must've felt.
Sighing, she lathered up the shampoo in Ellis' hair, her fingers sliding through the soapy curls. He growled, then exhausted by the simple effort, leaned against the side of the tub and closed his eyes tiredly.
"I know, sweetie, I know," she poured a cup of water over his head to rid him of the suds. He whined weakly and tried to turn away, but had nowhere to go.
He looked human, in that instant. His eyes were closed tightly, the wet lashes long against the smooth curves of his cheekbones. His expression was pained but calm, and he hunched over like a teenager with bad posture. She brushed a few long curls out of his eyes, mentally noting that she needed to give him a haircut.
He looked human. He was human. Maybe they'd just have to remind him of that.
She turned on the hot water tap, waiting long moments for it to heat up. Eventually the water ran warm and Ellis opened his eyes and looked at the faucet. There was a type of wide fascination in his eyes that reminded her of the old Ellis, and that gave her more hope.
The boy scooted forward near the stream of warm water and curled up in the warm section of the tub, purring contentedly. Rochelle laughed and ran a hand through his hair and he didn't even seem to mind, so lost in the feeling of warmth and comfort that whatever madness in him had disappeared for a moment.
"Nick!" she called over her shoulder, "Nick, come here!"
The man wasted no time in rushing in, eyes wide and alarmed.
"What? What is it?"
"Relax, it's all right. I just wanted you to see Ellis. Look at how cute he is!" she pointed toward him with a grin. Nick watched the boy for a minute and looked back at her.
"Yeah, so? He's always curled up like that."
"No, look. I turned the warm water on and he went to curl up in it. It's cute," she insisted with a nod of the head. Nick studied her critically.
"You're wasting the goddamn hot water."
He turned around and stepped out, leaving Rochelle staring after him. Beside her, Ellis lay his chin on the sleek edge of the tub.
He was staring at the doorway. More upset than afraid, the woman lifted a hand and set it cupped to the back of Ellis' head, over the springs of wet hair. Ellis closed his eyes in a slow and sad way, and Rochelle could have sworn she felt him lean back into her palm.
So yeah, really short. And I know it was kind of Rochelle-centric, but...I like Rochelle...soooo yeah. Anyway. Next chapter should be longer and contain more Nellis!