Hey guys!! So I know Columbus woud probably be much more health conscious than this but humor me =P Hope you all like it!! :D
Columbus groaned miserably, curling a little tighter onto his side and wrapping his arms protectively over his stomach. He took slow, shallow breaths, exhaling through clenched teeth and keeping his eyes squeezed shut tightly. His stomach lurched suddenly and gasped, gripping the sheet in a sweaty, wadded ball, trying desperately to fight off the waves of nausea that washed over him.
This had been going on for the better part of the night, the constant cramping and sickening flipping of his stomach making sleep all but impossible. He tried to keep quiet, not wanting to wake Wichita and Little Rock in the next room. Tallahassee was downstairs, keeping first watch so he didn't have to worry about him which was probably a blessing in disguise. The older zombie hunter was sort of bat-shit crazy on even the best days so there was no telling what kind of twisted remedy he had for stomach pains.
Liquid heat burned in Columbus' chest and he swallowed thickly, trying to keep the scorching bile from making its way past his throat. He swallowed again, silently praying to a God he was sure wasn't listening that he wouldn't throw up. Jesus, did he hate throwing up…it wrapped every horrible bodily function into one Chernobyl-esque physical meltdown. His mouth watered and he knew there was no stopping it.
Freeing himself of the tangled sheets, Columbus jumped smoothly out of the bed and made a mad dash to the bathroom, managing to be just silent enough to prevent waking the girls. He slid to a stop next to the toilet and retched violently, gagging and choking on the contents of his stomach. The muscles in his back coiled tightly, his chest constricting and his eyes watering as he continued to heave violently into the bowl. After a few minutes, he collapsed in exhaustion against the side wall, breathing heavily.
Seriously, of all the things to worry about in Zombieland, food poisoning had not been on the top of his list. He'd been feeling a little off for most of the day, every since they'd scavenged supplies at the grocery store back in St. Louis. Tallahassee had gone on his usual Twinkie search, Little Rock found a box of Lucky Charms and Wichita managed to find a jar of peanut butter and jelly and settled with that. Columbus found a container of yogurt and decided that would be the quickest and easiest thing to eat in the car. The expiration date said three months from then so it seemed safe enough. The cooler was broken (amazingly, there was still electricity in certain parts of Zombieland, St. Louis just didn't appear to be one of them) but the container felt cold enough to be non-lethal so he set aside his usual neurotic tendencies and settled on the yogurt. Not the best plan in retrospect…
His stomach flipped again and he gasped, sitting up on his knees and grasping the edges of the toilet in just enough time to avoid losing the remaining contents of his stomach on the floor. His shoulders trembled with exertion and he coughed raggedly, a horrible taste filling his mouth.
"Christ…" He gasped, keeping his eyes closed tightly.
A hand was placed in between his shoulder blades and Columbus jerked up, grabbing a discarded shampoo bottle and holding it above his head like a club.
Tallahassee chuckled softly, holding his hands up in surrender. "Easy there kid, the last thing I need is conditioner in my eyes."
Columbus rolled his eyes and dropped the bottle with a moan. "Its shampoo…" He corrected uselessly, falling back against the wall with a soft thud.
Tallahassee frowned at the grim pallor of the younger man and reached out to tentatively touch his face. When Columbus jerked away from the touch, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Would you stop acting like a Goddamn Chihuahua and relax? All that anxiety you keep bottled up is probably what led to all of this." He gestured vaguely toward the toilet with his hand and leveled his gaze with Columbus.
"Ngh…" Columbus protested, shaking his head slightly. "Not anxiety…bad yogurt…" He mumbled, turning and spitting into the bowl.
"Bad yogurt…?" The explanation seemed to escape Tallahassee and he frowned again. "Didn't think dairy went bad, I thought it just turned into other dairy products; you know, milk into cottage cheese, and all that." His ramble lasted a few more seconds before Columbus heaved again, spilling even more of his breakfast/lunch/dinner/whatever the hell that was into the toilet bowl. "Jesus kid…" The older man muttered, reached over and placing a comforting hand on Columbus' shoulder. "Stay here, I'll be right back."
Columbus heard the scuff of boots trek down the hallway and then nothing but silence. He strained his ears to listen but the more he tried the more he became aware of how tired he was. He flushed the toilet weakly with one hand and rested his head on his free arm, closing his eyes and trying to breathe through the nausea. He was hot, cold, up, down, and everything in between and Goddamn he was tired. Maybe now that everything was out of his stomach he could get some rest…
Something soft and heavy was wrapped around his shoulders and he jumped again out of instinct, looking up to see Tallahassee drape a quilt over his shoulders before kneeling down next to him. He had a bottle of water in one hand, a few pink tablets in the other and a pillow tucked under one arm. "Looks like you're going to be here for a while." He said simply, leaning back against the bathroom cabinet beneath the sink and dropping the pillow into his lap.
Columbus was too exhausted to protest or even question Tallahassee's behavior; it was strange but definitely not the strangest thing he'd seen in the past couple of months. Taking a steadying breath, he let go of the toilet bowl and fell back against the older man's legs. He took the offered water bottle gratefully and took a tentative sip, desperate to get the horrible taste out of his mouth. "What about guard duty…?" He asked softly, feeling himself relax into the pillow at his back as Tallahassee tossed a protective arm over his chest.
"Don't worry, these people had ADT…helluva lot of good that did em.' Besides, we're locked up tighter than a nun's underwear drawer." He chuckled softly at the grim joke and looked down. "Get some rest, kid. I ain't goin' anywhere…"
Columbus smiled weakly and nodded, snuggling a little deeper into the older man's chest and closing his eyes. Rough, calloused fingers gently carded their way through his hair and he could feel the nausea slowly beginning to abate. Food poisoning sucked but this certainly didn't.
Shameless flufff because I can't help it =P