X

…

Ever.

Everything was numb; his limbs detached from him and walked away impatiently, senses dulling to nothing as the world became no more than a deafening ringing in his ears. His vision was becoming blurry as he forgot to blink, only able to remember the one detail that was locking him in a brick-like shell.

I'm never going to get out of here.

He couldn't feel it as his fists clenched tightly, his jaw locking as he clamped his teeth together. The sky was turning into a mixture of colors, a whirlpool of nothingness. Jets flying overhead, the noise of their engines completely blocked out by a steadily bubbling rage that burned through all his senses and nearly consumed him.

A slightly loud, miserable whimper pulled him back to reality.

Dal? He slowly stood up, pulling himself off the ground; the infected had dispersed, it seemed. He couldn't see anyone around, so he had reason to assume that something had persuaded them to leave. Nick turned around, looking for the dark-clad Hunter, easy enough to spot. He was standing at that point, clutching the fence and doubled over in pain, one hand squeezing the fabric off his hoodie so tightly that Nick wondered if he had torn it yet.

He didn't have to think about it when he started walking over, the walk turning into a light jog as he called the Hunter. He couldn't hear his own voice; the racket in his head was too loud. Nick arrived at Dal's side, placing a hand on the Hunter's back gingerly and speaking to him. His tone was gentle, calm; remain calm, don't panic, we'll find a way out, we'll be okay, it doesn't hurt that bad, c'mon hang in there, let's get away from here.

Jets were circling overhead, the noise calling a horde of infected. Nick wrapped an arm around Dal's back and took the hand that was holding the fence. He pried the infected away from his only support and guided him towards an abandoned tank. The military assault vehicle was large and sturdy; it would protect them for now.

It was difficult to get Dal onto it, though easy to get him inside. The Hunter collapsed to the metal floor, curling up into himself as Nick closed the hatch. The sound of bombings reached them, and Nick clenched his fist. Remain calm.

He turned on his flashlight and went to Dal's side, unrolling the Hunter out on the floor beneath them. Lay on your back, he commanded. The infected understood, though it was easy to tell how much pain he was in.

Nick muttered to him that he was extremely lucky, because the damage seemed to be minimal. His ribs were broken, and it wasn't hard to tell. He had pulled the kid's sweater up, exposing the rashes and scars that covered his stomach. It was actually hard to decipher between rashes and bruising from the Tank's blows at first, but Nick was soon able to adapt to the meager amount of light.

Things were beginning to come back to him, slowly. His concentration returned as he examined Dal's chest, being as gentle as he possibly could. His hearing had returned, picking up on every single pained noise that came out of the Hunter's mouth. He could feel the familiar sensation of rippling shivers and clamminess on Dal's skin. The Hunter's reaction to pain was similar to a normal person's physiological response to a fever. Nick briefly wondered if it was possible that his body was trying to produce a response to the pain and not doing it probably because of the rabies virus.

It wasn't like he was a doctor, but it wasn't like he wasn't well educated either.

"Dal," His voice returned to him, "Try not to move, okay?" He muttered. The Hunter sniffled pitifully, "Don't take deep breaths. Just try to relax. It'll help; trust me."

Trust me.

The words tasted bitter on his mouth as a memory of a particularly twisted Halloween night resurfaced. He wished for amnesia.

Nick set his flashlight down on a surface that would allow the light to illuminate the entire tank. Now that he had calmed down, he could think about how he was supposed to get out of this hellhole.

The frustration came so fast, Nick wasn't prepared to control it. In a sudden fit of anger and near-hysteria, he turned and punched the nearest object; a computer monitor. It fractured and cracked under his knuckles, cutting into him as he swore angrily. He retracted his hand, ignoring the sensation of blood crawling on him.

Crawling.

No. Not crawling.

A shiver ran up his spine, and he ran a tentative hand through his hair. "How…!" He suddenly cracked, his voice holding a tone that he himself didn't recognize, "Fuck!" He raised his voice to a shout, startling the Hunter across the area from him. Dal had managed to pull himself into a sitting position, and the pain seemed to be subsiding.

"What the hell do I do now! Where else is there to go!" He whirled around, eyes searching for help; for something. Dal stared at him, silent, maybe frightened. Nick averted his gaze, lowering it to the floor and shaking his head. He all but collapsed backwards, leaning up against a metal wall stuck with screws and sliding to the floor.

"There's nowhere else to go." He muttered, "I may as well give up." He shut his eyes, rubbing his fingers against his lids and trying to bring out the solution. There was really nothing.

Warmth met with his senses, startling him slightly. He winced, raising his gaze as Dal wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. The Hunter whimpered, nuzzling against the crook of Nick's neck. He was still shaking, probably in pain, maybe cold, maybe scared.

"Dal… I'm-…" he trailed off, completely forgetting what he had been about to say as a means of scolding him. He didn't even care. What did it matter if Dal suddenly turned on him and killed him? It wasn't like anyone would be waiting anxiously for him to get to a safe zone.

"Now what?" His whispered softly, his voice cracking from a certain amount of insanity and confusion. Dal squeezed him harder, and Nick sighed, wrapping an arm around his friend's back and returning the gesture of affection.

It'd been a long time since he'd had the option of hugging anyone. He'd never have guessed that his last hug would be with a Hunter, who, under normal circumstances, ought to have killed him.

The noise outside had died down to a low hum of infected snarling at one another as they beat each other to death. Nick lowered his hand from Dal's back and waited patiently for the Hunter to pull away, which he did.

"First," Nick said calmly, his mind beginning to process what he knew, "We need to get across the river and back into that city." He paused, thinking about it for only a split second, "I'm gonna need to find a boat… It doesn't need to be a yacht, but I'd prefer one of a decent size."

Dal was watching him carefully, nodding slowly with what looked like understanding. Nick groped around the dark for his AK-47, cursing softly.

"It ran out of ammo on the bridge," He recalled, "I remember now."

"For now, I need to find something that I can swing, and I can keep my magnum in case I come across some ammo on the way out of here."

Dal glanced around the area, crawling over to a darker corner of the tank, and returning quickly with an axe, the handle stained red with blood. Nick praised his Hunter, patting his head gently and smiling.

"Now that we have a means of defense and offense," He said slowly, "We just need something that'll take us across the river. Should we wait a little longer, or go now?"

Dal blinked, tilting his head slightly and listening. He made a hand gesture that signified "waiting" to Nick. The conman nodded sitting back and taking in a deep breath. This would work out. They would find a way out, one way or another.

We? He thought, eyes on Dal, I can't bring him with me…

A pang of guilt reached his chest, but Nick quickly brushed it away. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. The Hunter was scooting to his side, and Nick simply allowed Dal to cuddle up against him, as he always did.

.

It had been a couple of days since he'd been utterly abandoned in New Orleans. Now off the island and back to the mainland US, Nick was feeling beaten. Defeated. Lost. Unwanted. Well, he'd never really felt wanted, so that was a ridiculous thing to dwell on in the first place.

They'd walked probably four miles in four hours, using the remaining daylight to get to the nearest abandoned town. Nick didn't know what he was supposed to do now that he was completely screwed. He had a feeling that he wanted to go back north, but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea. All he did know was that the Canadians probably liked Americans a tiny bit more than Mexicans. So he was probably going to go north.

They'd found a little tiny town, with small houses. It was practically a trailer park. Nick was feeling adventurous, however, so they eventually found space in one of the trailers. There were two bedrooms; they were sharing one, because Dal was the biggest brat Nick had ever met. Worse than his niece. Worse than his brother. Almost as bad as his father.

Upon the disappearance of the sun, Nick clambered into the bed, sliding up against the wall and nearly crawling up it as Dal attached himself to his back. His face contorted into an agonized grimace. If the others had been there, they would've been laughing hysterically until Dal woke up and shut the door. Then they would've laughed even more.

"You know," Nick knew he was talking to himself at that point, but it wasn't really a concern. Dal stirred slightly in his sleep, cuddling up against Nick's back. It was utterly ridiculous for them to be sharing such a small bed, but Dal apparently 'couldn't sleep' without cuddling.

"When I said 'fine,' I meant you could share a bed with me. Not 'hey, let's pretend we're a fucking couple.' Because incase you couldn't tell, I'm definitely not as gay as you." Dal let out a heavy, obnoxiously sleepy-sounding sigh against the back of Nick's neck, and the conman subsequently rolled over and shoved him off the bed.

With a yelp of surprise, the Hunter slammed to the ground. He sat up suddenly, glowering at Nick, who was easily feigning sleep. In an apparent decision for revenge, he all but jumped on the uninfected man and snuggled even closer than he had before, burying his face into Nick's chest and wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.

Nick frowned deeply, "Really, Dal? Really?"

It was going to be a long, long night.

A/N

You know, I actually think this chapter is a lot shorter than the one before it... Sorry.

The next chapter, or at least the first half of it, is gonna be relatively slow. I'm not sure what I want to have happen to make for the next actually crescendo in the story, so it might also be a couple of days before I update again. :( Sorry about all the waiting, I'm doing my best!

And for anyone who reads Distorted Reflection, please know that I am attempting to sort out the next chapter. I'll try to have it up before March, no guarantees.

(Edit: I lied, it's like, 200 words longer!)