Time frame: After the events of L4D2
Rating: T/M for language
Relationships established: Nellis
Description: A look into life after being rescued. Introduction of a new character (*Hint Hint: Ellis' past)
Ellis spent the next three days in near-solitary confinement, and could only imagine the others were doing the same if they were alive. He was allowed to eat and shower so long as he didn't leave the cell he was in. It got to be nerve wracking and after several hours, he would yell at people as they crossed the hall outside, trying to get someone's attention so that maybe he could get answers. This was to no avail, and eventually he surrendered to sleep as much as possible.
During the third day, an official-looking soldier entered the room and offered to answer any questions the captive may have had over the span of his time being held. Primarily he asked about where he was and why he was there. According to the soldier, everybody in the Georgia area that had been rescued and was tested positive for immunity was being kept at this one quarantined sector. It was called Zone 15 and there were bases just like it all over the country. New Orleans was not safe at all, now completely overrun. This zone was in what used to be a neighborhood in Shreveport. The military managed to fence off several blocks of housing, a hospital, and some center-of-town establishments, most of which were closed down and used for base purposes.
Next, the obvious question was regarding his friends, were they okay?
"The two that tipped off the pilot as to your whereabouts are alive and well, going through the same manner of testing that you and all other new rescues undergo." The soldier replied.
"There was a guy with me when I got picked up. He had a real bad leg injury. Did he pull through?" Ellis' heart was pounding, feeling like it weighed a ton.
"He survived his injuries, but his holding has been done in the hospital."
"Can I see him?" Please let me. I can't take this room no more.
"Being that you have come through the testing, we have no other reason to keep you in holding. You're free to roam around the compound. Don't go beyond the fences, and await further instructions. You'll be issued housing shortly." The soldier was very bland, spoke like a drone.
Ellis didn't care about the soldier at this point, though. He was heading to the hospital building directly across the parking lot from where he'd been held. It was strange, being outside without a gun and not seeing an infected for miles. Instead, there were people. Lots of people, making themselves busy as if nothing was wrong. The air was still heavy, though, like the shadow of doom still hung overhead.
He went to the front desk as soon as he entered the hospital, getting the attention of a tired looking woman working at a monitor.
"Can I help ya, dear?" She asked, heavy Louisiana accent.
"I'm lookin for someone. We were rescued a couple of days ago and I want to see him."
"Are you family?" She asked.
"No, not really. I mean, kinda. He's my..." What was Nick to Ellis?
"Oh. Ohh. What's his name?" She eyed the man in front of her, and Ellis chose to ignore the look on her face.
"Nick. He didn't tell me his last name. I guess it never came up. Um...if it helps he had a leg injury."
Against typical regulation, the woman at the front desk told Ellis where Nick would be. Second floor, room 142a. When he got to the correct label in the hall, the door was open. He knocked on it anyway.
"Nick?" He called into the room.
The man in question was sitting against the window, staring out of it when his attention was broken and he turned to answer.
"Hey." He answered, smirking and pulling himself into a stand. He had a crutch propped up on the wall and used it just enough to cross the room and meet Ellis who was already walking his way.
"You doin okay in here?"
"Hell no. I hate hospitals. I look like a fuckin goon." Nick answered. He was gesturing to his clothes, a white tshirt and a pair of loose sweatpants.
"Lookin good." Ellis laughed, also dressed in clothing that was not his. He chose a pair of jeans that were just a touch too big and a black shirt with a beer logo on the front.
"Laugh it up. Assholes cut my pants off. Whole suit, really. Damn pile of scraps now. I guess what I'm wearing now is from Red Cross, since I wouldn't wear the damn ass-flap hospital dress."
"Well, it's good to see your time spent here didn't dampen your mood none." Ellis wasn't sure of what he was supposed to do. The two were standing about two feet apart, but he didn't know if he was allowed to touch Nick or not.
"They have me on some pretty good pain pills. The doc told me they were just about to cut my leg off. I'm so fucking glad they didn't. I took a look at it though, looks nasty. They said I had tissue damage all the way to the bone. If the infection reached my heart I would have died." Nick's voice was crackly, like he had a cold.
"You sound sick."
"Yeah. They had to tube me during surgery, so my throat hurts. I've been on oxygen up until yesterday." He explained.
"You have no idea how glad I am to see ya." Ellis said after a moment of awkward silence. Nick was looking so much better. He wasn't sweating anymore. He looked clean and crisp and like he'd gotten some sleep.
"You and me both. I was getting sick of doctors and the nurses here aren't even hot. I got a sponge bath by a 60 year old woman yesterday. You see Coach or Rochelle by the way?"
"Not yet. I was gonna track them down as soon as I made sure you were okay." Ellis explained, not wanting to make a big deal out of coming to see Nick first.
The older man smiled a half-smile, pulling the southerner by the waistband of his pants into a kiss. A long, deep kiss completely out of character compared to Nick's more hungry kisses in the past. This one was soft, full of longing. His right hand left the mechanic's waist and cupped just under the back of his head to draw him in farther as the younger man's arms wrapped tight around his waist.
"Missed you." Nick said very quietly when they pulled themselves apart enough to breathe.
"I missed you, too. A whole bunch." He said in return, resting against the gambler, taking in the smell of him when he wasn't fighting to survive.
Three weeks after their rescue, Nick was up and on his feet again. He no longer needed the crutch and his leg was becoming strong again. He said several times that he'd never be caught dead in shorts again, but the scar tissue was getting less thick and softening over time. It took up a lot of room on his lower leg. There was almost no viewpoint of his calf that at least some of the scar was not visible.
The survivors met up again and caught onto how life was going to be in this compound. They were still under assessment, needing to test and make themselves available for compound jobs if needed. At the end of assessment, they would be given something to do. Zone 15 was scheduled to exist for at least 6 months, until cities and towns were rebuilt enough to furnish life. This area protected several hundred people excluding military personnel and housing was assigned on a needs basis. Coach and Rochelle were staying in a small, three bedroom house with a married couple. They chose to stick together because they'd become almost family during their ordeal. Nick and Ellis were issued an equally small two bedroom apartment in a large building. They chose to room together as well, not giving any official reason.
During the time immediately following their rescue, the two men decided to pursue a relationship together, much to both of their surprise. They weren't out in the open about it, not wanting to put pressure on each other. Rochelle and Coach were in on it, the fact that the two men were living and sleeping together as an official couple. It felt new, it felt nice. The way they acted toward one another hardly changed. Nick toned it down and was definitely nicer to Ellis, but anyone that didn't know they were together would not have guessed that the two even liked one another judging by the way they sassed each other back and forth.
The four kept to themselves for the most-part, being that they were still new and wanted to at least be around familiar people while they got used to the post-infection world. As of now, the easiest thing to do was stay out of the way and just gather like everyone else did in the big yard. This yard was the size of two football fields side by side, so there was no real worry about being in close quarters.
"You seem like you're getting around good on that leg, boy." Coach nudged Nick.
"Yeah, it still hurts, but I have these super pain pills so I can stand around like a jackass all day." Nick shifted, taking weight on his right leg instead of the left.
The tightness of the scar tissue was still incredibly uncomfortable. During the helicopter crash, he'd only made the injury worse by straining the tendon and putting a crack in the bone. The doctor said that it was likely going to cause him pain on and off for the rest of his life. Moving in the morning required slow stretching of the flesh around the damaged tissue. Nick hated looking at it, hated talking about it.
"There's not much to do besides standin around like a jackass all day nohow." Ellis pointed out.
"Ellis, goddamn it. There's plenty to do." Nick winked.
Rochelle smiled and gave her friend a playful elbow.
"Keep it in your pants, Italian Stallion." Ellis replied.
"ELLIS!"
The four turned toward the direction in which they heard one of their names being called. Ellis scanned through the people all gathered in the yard, but couldn't pinpoint the location of his name. His eyebrows pushed together, looking harder.
"ELLIS!" There it was again, off to the right somewhere.
Ellis waved foolishly in that direction, hoping that maybe a returned greeting would be more helpful in locating the voice that wanted his attention.
Several yards away, a tall, lanky figure waved back. The figure was wearing a navy blue hoodie, with the hood up over top of a trucker hat. It had on a pair of faded jeans with a torn knee and what looked like house shoes.
"Ho-lee shit!" Ellis shouted, taking off running at the figure like a bat out of hell. The figure ran, too, toward the mechanic. They stopped about one foot from one another and the figure pulled his hood down, causing Ellis to shout something and pull the figure into a long hug. The figure returned the embrace, the two of them laughing.
Rochelle brought her gaze to Nick, whose eyes showed incredible confusion. He shrugged without saying a word. His right eyebrow tensed downward and the nerves in his upper lip twitched.
Ellis and the figure, now identified as a man a little taller than Ellis, made their way quickly back to the group, with the figure's arm still looped around Ellis' shoulders.
"Guys, c'mere." Ellis called, stopping and waiting for his friends to come the last couple yards, apparently to meet the figure.
Upon getting closer, the guy in question was white, had red hair under his trucker hat that looked like it was cut with yard trimmers. His hair was straight and messy, much like hair made popular by anime. He had an equally red goat beard on his chin. He had his left lateral incisor missing from his mouth and several scars visible even with a hoodie on. Old burn scars lashed up the right side of his neck and the helix of his left ear had a tattered hole in it.
"Guys, this is Keith." Ellis offered.
Keith extended his right hand to the others, the last two knuckles missing from the middle and ring fingers. A bite mark striped across his wrist.
"Keith, this is my friends Coach and Rochelle." The two shook hands with Keith.
"Nice to meet ya, Coach. Nice to meet ya, ma'am." Keith smiled.
"The guy in the back is Nick. He's my-" Ellis froze. Keith looked over at him, noting the pause.
"-housemate." Nick said, covering Ellis' immediate discomfort.
"Nice to meet ya." Keith was friendly as could be, oblivious to the little exchange taking place between his friend and the older man.
"I can't believe you're alive!" Ellis exclaimed again, hugging the taller man a second time.
"I can't believe you're real." Coach added, "No offense Ellis, but I was starting to think you were schizophrenic."
"Yep, that's usually the case when El starts spoutin off with his damn stories about my many adventures. All of which are true but exaggerated. Example, 90% of my body is burnt, but only like 40% of it is 3rd degree burns." Keith smiled warmly at his friend. "This goofball just thinks I'm more bullet proof than I actually am. Observe."
Keith stepped back and pulled up his hoodie and the shirt under it, exposing a small, circular wound on his side, just under his ribcage. The guy's whole body looked like he'd been through a meat grinder, but the wound in question was new. He dropped his shirt back down, serious expression on his face.
"Not bulletproof."
"Where's you get that, buddy?" Ellis asked, concerned.
"Remember when the whole outbreak happened? Well, I got on one of the helicopters with a messload of other people. We thought we were going to the military base, but the helicopter stopped when some of us were sick. Drug me and everyone else I was with outside and started shooting. El, all of our friends are dead, or families too. Dave, my parents, everyone is gone but me cause I ran."
"I'm sorry about your family." Rochelle offered, earning her a polite nod from the redhead.
"I lost all mine, too." Coach said.
"My mom?" Ellis begged.
Keith shook his head. "I'm sorry, brother. Just me."
Ellis' expression sunk, and his friend pulled him into yet another long overdue embrace.
"I really am sorry. I would have saved them if I coulda. I mean, I didn't have a gun and people were runnin all over the place, but when I went back, everyone was dead."
"There wasn't nothin you coulda done. They had guns and you didn't. Just glad somebody made it." Ellis assured, not sounding anything other than sad.
"They have a real nice grief counseling group I been going to here. I feel so guilty."
The group spent almost an hour catching up with Ellis' friend that was actually a real person. He seemed wonderful, almost like another Ellis. The two were peas in a pod and they seemed to bring out the charm in one another. Rochelle and Coach welcomed him warmly into their circle. And Nick...Nick was just Nick.
He wasn't an idiot. He couldn't push away the fact that the two had been friends since early childhood. He knew that, and as being the guy that had only known Ellis for a couple of months, he had no right to be jealous. But he was. Especially when Ellis didn't introduce Nick as what he actually was, Ellis' boyfriend. Yeah, they didn't really tell people about being together, but when it came to friends, Nick would have thought it would be different.
Keith seemed nice enough, and was just as irritating as Ellis was, but he wasn't like Ellis. Ellis was just a sweet southern dork. This guy was weird. He talked funny, had a nervous twitch, and he looked like a drug addict. It was now no wonder why Ellis wasn't disgusted with Nick's disfigured leg, he'd had practice, practice touching this freak.
Keith also took the time to introduce two others he grouped up with before being rescued. One was a girl no older than 18. She was petite and blond and only made intermittent eye contact at best. She had deep, glassy eyes and made noises that she couldn't seem to help. She kept her head covered with a striped wool hat and her hands were usually in her pockets. Keith introduced her as Sid and claimed that she was a 'real sweet girl' as long as nobody touched her.
The other was a man likely to be about Nick's age. He was also thin but had a bit of a hard beer belly. He had a long, scraggly goatee and wore a black hat similar to Sid's over his hair. His eyes were dark and his pupils were blown wide.
"Hey, I'm John." He offered.
"These two helped keep me alive after I got shot." Keith added.
After talking with them, it was established that John worked in a distillery before the infection and Sid had a part-time job at a bakery. Both were unmarried and had no children. John had cousins and brothers and sisters. He had no idea if any of them were alive at this point. Sid had no family and had lived in a group home for most of her life. As a group, Keith and his two friends were a jittery bunch of pleasant weirdos, but of course that didn't stem Ellis and his naturally friendly demeanor. He talked to the lot of them just like he would talk to anyone. Correction, he talked to John and Sid like he would talk to anyone else. He talked to Keith like he was Bike Riding Jesus of Nazareth and it got into Nick's head right away.
He put it out of his mind, but in the coming days, the two friends were spending more time together. They were actually assigned the same job together, working on the military vehicles in Garage 4. It was just beyond the sidewalk and the big door was always open, leaving the workers in clear view of the public at most times. Nick was not the kind of guy to make an effort at spying. Usually he was not jealous enough to give a shit, but this grated in his mind until he'd make an excuse to go out and see Ellis at work on occasion. He was always able to go get coffee across the street (because that store accepted tabs) and then just walk by and say "Hey Goober" before leaving.
Sometimes he would walk by and say nothing, just paying a passing glance in toward his partner and his best friend. It was far from unusual for Keith to be touching Ellis in some way. The two would playfully punch one another in the arm, or Keith would come up behind Ellis so that they could both look under the hood of a car and they would either be hip to hip or overlapping slightly. Even passing by one another was accompanied by unnecessary touching and honestly it didn't make Nick angry, not really. This was a new feeling, concern. Maybe worry? Probably jealousy. Ellis hadn't even told his friend about the two of them being together. He wanted to ask Ellis about it, maybe talking about what he was thinking or being assured that he had nothing to worry about would ease his mind. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he would stew at home, waiting for assessment to give him some kind of job to occupy his time.
"Goddamn it, Ellis" tally thus far: 13