It rained all night. Obnoxious rain that pelted the rooftop in an annoying not-quite-steady rhythm that dug under his nerves. It poked and prodded at his already slowly decaying mind. It beat above, keeping him awake, keeping him alert. And his mind tortured him.
Nick laid awake, chin resting on top of Ellis' head as he held the other against him. He listened to his own heart pounding in his ears. He laid there, feeling each of Ellis' breaths against his bare skin, aware of how warm the other was, aware of how good it felt to have him there… Aware of how it reminded him of someone long ago. God, was he aware of it.
He had lost her because he had been selfish. He had wooed her with sweet words and gestures, little things he knew women would fall all over themselves to have in a man. He was a conman after all. He knew how to get what he wanted. She had been his trophy to parade around, his little prize to gloat about… But at the end of the day, that was all he had treated her like—a trophy on a shelf.
It wasn't until she was gone that he realized he had loved her, that she wasn't just a trophy to him. He had loved coming home from a long night of gambling to find her sitting up waiting for him just to make sure he was unhurt. He had loved the way she laughed, the sparkle in her eyes, the way she smiled with her tongue pressed behind her teeth. The way she would hum along to her favorite songs on the radio, how she would always take his hands and dance to the music in her head. He had loved the way she had loved him.
He thought of her at first—but eventually his nostalgia had grown faint for her and his thoughts began to explore a different heartache. The heartache belonging to a certain blue-eyed, sweet-natured, optimistic farm boy. And it scared Nick. It scared him more than anything in the world. His heart pounded with terror.
At least with her, he had lost her from his own selfishness. Ellis though… he could lose to anything. To a sneaky Hunter pouncing from the mist, or a horde of Infected lured by the stench of Boomer bile—from a snarling Witch. God… he could lose the damn kid at any moment. How dare he even begin to think he was falling for him.
It was in that moment that Nick decided he would have to stop these thoughts, now. He would have to destroy any hope, any lingering feelings, any desire or lust. He'd have to crush it, stomp on it, tear it apart and bury it within the confines of his own shadowed heart. He'd have to push the kid to arms length and keep his devilish tongue from charming him any further.
But for now, Nick simply held Ellis, knowing he'd never be able to do it again.
Nick awoke first, probably from the freakishly loud rumble of thunder—or maybe because the ceiling had started leaking on his legs. Whichever. Nick carefully uncoiled his arms from Ellis, giving the mechanic one long final stare. Well… goodbye warm feelings. Goodbye little butterflies, goodbye sweet smiles, goodbye innocent handholding…
Nick leaned forward and placed a kiss on Ellis' forehead before quickly retreating out of the bed. He pulled on his clothes and entered the badly rain damaged kitchen.
He sat himself down at the table, feeling as though someone had slapped him senseless. His face hurt, his chest hurt, his body hurt. Everything hurt.
From the door they had entered last night he could still hear the moans of Infected, still trying to get in. The barricade would shake slightly as one particularly enthusiastic one would throw its body against the door only to bounce back fruitlessly. For a moment Nick pitied them. But being Nick the feeling quickly passed.
Fuck them. The fuckers had been trying to eat his brains the last few months. He could care less about who they were, who they could have been, or what they had once believed. Fuck them.
Nick looked over as Coach's door opened and the older man came ambling out, yawning loudly as he did. The big man stretched nosily. "And here I thought I was going to be the first one awake, again." Nick made no effort to reply and the former coach took the seat opposite of the conman. Coach regarded the other for a moment. "You look like shit, boy. Was sharing too damn difficult for you?" Coach began to chuckle, but Nick sent him a deadly glare and the noise caught in his rumbling chest.
There was a long silence as they glared across the table at each other. Finally Coach, not willing to pick a fight with one of the only people he knew to still be alive, got up and began to rummage through the cabinets. Nick did his best to ignore him, at least until Coach had managed to find undamaged coffee grounds and a working coffee pot. Nick's hard eyes watched the man fix a fresh pot. Christ, maybe Coach was good for something.
The big man beamed. "Ah, it sure has been awhile since we've had some good coffee, hasn't it?" It was obvious he was fishing for conversation. Nick, however, remained silent. Coach snorted. "I guess that means you're not interested."
"Whatever."
Piss poor mood; that's what they had always said he had. Ever since the beginning of this stupid ass 'adventure' he had been labeled the pessimist whiner. Well, whatever. He didn't care anymore. Just because he had promised the hick he wasn't going to blow his own brains out didn't mean he still wasn't going to die. There was no point in making friends with the doomed and the damned.
"Ohmygawd," Rochelle gasped, practically throwing open the door. Nick and Coach jumped, staring at her. "Is that coffee I smell?" The woman floated into the room, sniffing at the air as though it were Heaven itself wafting about.
Nick sulked silently as the other two fixed themselves a cup of coffee, refusing to join in their idle chat. He huffed his thanks when Rochelle brought him a mug, but made no other effort to join their pointless chatter.
"So, Nick… You're looking more pissed off than usual," Rochelle commented lightly, smiling over the rim of her chipped coffee mug. Nick blinked slowly, eyes turning to give her a deadpan stare. She smiled awkwardly. "Um… okay. Did I miss something?"
"Nick's just mad that he had to spoon with another man," Coach said, laughing lightly.
The conman slammed his mug onto the table and it shattered in his hand, spilling hot coffee and glass over the table. With his jaw clenched, eyes furious, the man shot to his feet. The sudden motion threw back his chair and sent it scattering across the ground into the wall. Rochelle and Coach recoiled back, eyes wide, both obviously startled by the reaction. Nick hissed out a few incomprehensible words (probably curses) and then stormed over to their piles of weapons, picked up a sniper rifle and began to load it angrily.
No one moved. Coach and Rochelle risked glances to each other, but neither dared to speak. Hot coffee dripped silently off the corner of the table. Rain pounded on the roof above. Lightening lit up the windows every so often, illuminating the room in an eerie light. For a handful of minutes it was deathly silent. Until…
"Wha's with all the noise?" Ellis yawned from the doorway. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he padded out into the kitchen. He stopped slowly, glancing about and noticing the heavy stillness. "What's goin' on?" he asked seriously. He looked to his companions for answers, but no one seemed willing to say anything. "Um… okay… Is that coffee? Man, may I have some too?"
"S-Sure, sweetie. You can have as much as you want." Rochelle shot to her feet, thankful for the excuse to break the awkward silence. She nosily found the mechanic a cup and poured the rest of the pot into it. She was shaking slightly, but Ellis' attention was too diverted elsewhere to notice.
Ellis' eyes were locked on a certain green-eyed man who was hunched over on the other side of the room, his back turned to the others with a sniper rifle gripped tightly in his hands. He was staring at the obviously impenetrable barricade, as if expecting something was going to magically burst through at any moment.
Ellis moved to speak to the conman, but Rochelle grabbed his arm, shaking her head.
They stormed over the broken fence like a well-trained army platoon, taking out Infected in deadly bursts of fire. The water was thick, up to their mid-calf and movement was slow. The rain was still heavy. It seemed impossible Virgil could spot them in the whiteness.
"Hey!" Coach called, "Let's fire up that burger sign. Maybe Virgil will be able to see it out in the storm!"
/Probably not,/ Nick mused, but he did not speak. He had grown silent ever since his outburst. Nick figured the less he spoke, the less his heart would feel obligated to continue its annoying attachment to his companions. It was growing easier to fall back into his former disinterested attitude he had held before.
Yet, at the same time it was making him feel nauseous. Especially whenever Ellis spoke to him. The mechanic kept smiling nervously at him and making little comments about nothing in particular and each time Nick continued to stare forward as though he hadn't heard him. It was obvious in Ellis' voice that he was growing more and more despondent at the lack of response from him.
They climbed the ladder onto the cafés rooftop, Coach leading. The big man moved straight to the power box and after fiddling with a few buttons, the burger sign exploded with life. Nick stared up at the slowly rotating ugly thing and couldn't help but think of it as an invitation to the Infected.
Please, my gory little friends, come on by and have a snack. Why, have a full course meal! There's only just four of us and a couple hundred of you. Honestly, we have no chance! So come on, get it while it's still hot and screaming!
Nick spotted a vantage point. It looked to be the air vent system over the kitchen below. He broke his silence. "Coach, give me a boost up there." Coach looked at him as though he had spoken gibberish, but Nick did not meet his gaze. He just kept his eyes staring hard at the sniping area. Coach crouched beside Nick and hooked his hands together. Nick stepped onto the interlaced fingers and with seemingly little effort, Coach hoisted Nick high enough so that the man could grab hold of the metal and pull himself up.
From his vantage point, Nick could see everything. From where they had come bodies floated in the water like fall leaves in an urban swimming pool. All around the Infected were scrambling up walls, ladders and fences, trying their damned hardest to get to them.
Nick knelt, swinging the sniper rifle from off his shoulder and lifted the scope to his eye. Click. Bang. It was strangely satisfying to see the Smoker creeping along the side of the building explode in a puff of dirty smoke. Nick almost smiled. He swung the rifle about, sending off a few more shots that exploded the Infected into a syrupy mess. Bye, bye you filthy little fucks. Enjoy Hell.
God… he felt good. It felt good to kill these sons of bitches. It felt good watching his bullets tearing into their flesh. It felt good watching the guts spilling from their bodies. It felt great.
Nick began to laugh, hard. He couldn't help himself. His body shook with laughter, his eyes glistening with something maybe just short of pure insanity. God, he couldn't stop laughing. He couldn't quench this sudden blood-thirsty desire to kill every single one of these fucking zombies. This desire to never, ever stop.
"Nick! Nick! Come on!" Ellis screamed, for perhaps the tenth time. He pulled a pack of ammo from his hip and with all his might threw it at the conman. It smacked the other in the shoulder and Nick turned quickly, gun leading. Ellis threw up his hands. "Hey, man, it's me! Come on, the boat's here! Virgil's here!"
Nick stared. His face was blank.
Without a word, the conman turned back to the Infected crawling up the building and continued his massacre. The masses were growing now that Rochelle and Coach had began to descend down the building.
Ellis let out choking noise of disbelief? What the hell?
"Nick! Come on! It's time to go! Nick?" Ellis suddenly felt a panic overtaking him. Nick had no intentions of following them. What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? A hot film of tears clouded Ellis' vision. He threw down his own weapon, hands clenched at his sides and with all his voice bellowed at the conman, "YOU PROMISED, NICK. YOU PROMISED ME!" Then he was clawing his way up the metal siding towards the other man.
Nick looked down at him, startled as Ellis grabbed hold of his ankle. Ellis was staring, desperately up at him, unable to pull himself up any higher. Even though it was pouring rain and there was nothing dry about any of them, it was obvious that the kid was crying. He was screaming, yelling, jerking on Nick's leg angrily.
Nick blinked hard, shaking his head quickly of his gripping insanity and then scooted over the edge. He landed beside Ellis who gave him a hurt scowl. Nick had never felt so guilty.
Together, hand in hand, Ellis led them to the boat as Rochelle and Coach covered them. A Molotov flew over their heads. A sea of fire erupted behind them. Their fate was sealed. Nick would not die here. Not today.
The two threw themselves onto the boat just as Virgil cranked the wheel out to sea. They lay panting, aching, on the boats deck. Nick finally glanced up and Ellis was scowling at him from where he lay. His lips were trembling, brow furrowed with fury, frustrated tears still in his eyes.
"You promised me, Nick!" Ellis choked out, pushing himself up onto his knees. Nick did likewise, staring wordlessly. "Say somethin', damn it! What were you thinkin'?" God, he sounded so sick, so desperate to hear Nick say something, anything. "Why won't you say nothin'?" Ellis whispered hoarsely.
Nick reached out for Ellis, his hand quivering. The conman blinked rapidly—against the rain or the tears? Wait, tears? Was he crying? He was, wasn't he? Ellis moved towards him and Nick allowed himself to become enveloped in the mechanics arms. He began to sob.
Nick sobbed because he knew that he had hoped he had died back there. He sobbed because he had prayed that he wouldn't have to keep trying to destroy these feels of affection. He wept because he knew that he was still alive and consequently he was going to have to live in the constant state of fear knowing that Ellis may not make it through all of this.
A/N: Thanks for reading :)