Some time later, Nick jerked awake. He immediately felt ashamed that he had fallen asleep. Christ, he couldn't even watch over her.
"Nick?"
He looked over at her and saw her propped up and leaning back on her elbows, staring at him.
"Where are we? What happened?" she asked quietly.
Nick licked his lips before answering.
"A Jockey jumped on you," he related. "There was a Witch in front of the safe room, and it steered you right into it."
She winced. "I have the worst luck."
He hesitated. "I…might have been part of it."
Rochelle blinked at him in surprise.
"I ran after the Jockey with my crowbar instead of shooting it," he confessed. "I was afraid of hitting you with the shotgun. You probably would have been less messed up if I had just shot the goddamn thing instead of playing tag."
She frowned slightly, still looking at him.
"Shit, you're mad. That's ok." He felt awful.
"No, I'm not," she replied. "Nick, it's fine. If you had shot at the Jockey, then you probably would have ended up startling the Witch."
"Better me than you."
"Nick, come on. You don't mean that."
"Oh-h-h, but I do. I know it's done, but if I could go back? I would shoot the fuck out of the back humper and laugh in that bitch's face."
"But then I'd have to carry your heavy ass to the safe room. I don't think I could have done it."
He chuckled. "Yeah. You're tiny."
She frowned at him. "Doesn't mean I'm not tough."
"Yeah, you're a regular fireball," he agreed, getting up and sitting down next to her.
"Still sarcastic, I see," she replied, aching an eyebrow. "Guess not much has changed. No tears for me either."
"Well, you know, the piss and vinegar in my veins dried me out," he said seriously, shrugging. "And the alcohol-"
"Hardy har."
They sat quietly, and Rochelle pushed herself into a sitting position. Nick instinctively reached out to help her, but she leaned away.
"I'm fine," she assured him. "I might be tiny but I don't need help moving."
"No, you just need help staying out of trouble," he snorted.
"Did Ellis do this?" she asked, holding up the kid's sweatshirt. "That was sweet."
Anger came flooding in, and this time he couldn't bullshit himself into thinking it was wounded pride or some shit. This was pure jealousy.
"Yeah, real sweet," he snapped.
She frowned over at him. "You ok?"
"Rochelle, you just don't know how-" He cut himself off, on the verge of an outburst. She didn't need to hear it.
"How what?" she pressed, turning so her upper body was completely facing him.
"Nothing," he muttered, glaring at one of the shelves.
"No, tell me. Now I'm curious."
"I'll bet."
"Nick," she warned.
"Fine, you really want to know?" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down so Coach and Ellis wouldn't wake up. "I shit my fucking pants in terror every goddamn time you get in trouble. I've had about fifteen heart attacks over you, and those are just the ones I've bothered keeping track of. Each time you go down, I wonder, 'Will she get up again? Is this it?' When that Witch had you on the ground, I—Ro, I thought you were dead. I thought you were going to bleed to death right in front of me, and it would have been all my fault. I don't think I can begin to tell you how fucking panicked I was, and then you go, 'Oh, I see you didn't cry, Nick, guess you don't care.' Well guess what-"
"You have blood on your shirt," she interrupted, pointing.
He abruptly stopped talking and looked over at the rust-colored stain on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, realizing she probably hadn't heard a thing he said. "Forget it. Forget everything I said. Never mind."
"Nick, holy shit!" she breathed, staring at something in horror. "Is that your jacket?"
Rochelle crawled forward and picked it up, transfixed. Nick saw it was covered in large splotches of dried blood, too. Oh well, what else was new. He sighed and rolled his eyes. He hoped Coach and Ellis would wake up soon. He was feeling restless.
"I'm gonna-" he started to say, but stopped when he saw Rochelle was looking at him with watery eyes. Oh God, what now? She was probably still in pain from those gashes. But then again she was moving around just fine. So…
"What?" he asked, confused and worried. "Did you want me to keep it clean or something?"
She swallowed hard and dropped the jacket, then started quickly crawling towards him. Nick scooted back nervously. Shit, was she going to slap him? What had he done?
"Don't hit me!" he warned as he felt his back hit the wall. Fuck.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt her grab his shoulders and pull herself onto him. He cracked an eye open when no slap came.
Her arms were around his neck and she was crying into his shirt.
"You idiot," she kept repeating, the words muffled.
He sighed and put his arms around her back. Women.
"I'm an idiot because…I took care of you?" he ventured.
"You ruined your jacket!" she whimpered.
"Oh my God. Rochelle. I don't care. It doesn't mat-ter. You're alive, that matters. Get your priorities straight, sweetheart. Besides," he added jokingly, "we both know I look way better than that stupid jacket does."
She giggled and wiped at her eyes. "Yeah, but that's because it looks like shit now."
He grinned at her and brushed some hair off her forehead. She still looked tired. Maybe they shouldn't move on just yet. She looked a little dirty, too, but that was no surprise. Maybe there was another towel in there she could use.
Nick noticed her slightly red eyes, even prettier this close up. He ran the back of his hand across her cheek, wiping up a stray tear. After all, she didn't need Coach and Ellis to see that she had been crying. And her lips—
"Mmphf!"
Welp, they were locked onto his right now. If that wasn't a go ahead, he didn't know what was.
He slanted his head and pushed his mouth back against hers, running his tongue over her upper lip before sliding it in and against hers. He brought his hands up to the sides of her face, stroking just under her ear with his thumb. She curled her fingers into his hair and pulled, also wrapping her tongue around his before letting go and biting gently at his lip. They drew back slightly, flushed and staring at each other.
"What now?" Rochelle breathed, licking her lips.
Nick pulled her back to him and nuzzled her throat before running his tongue across it, making her shiver. She pressed him closer to her as he continued to lick and suck at her neck, slowly working his way down to her collarbone. He slid one of his hands under her shirt, carefully moving it up past the bandages to her breast. He traced lazy circles around her nipple before finally flicking his thumb over it. She groaned softly and then pulled away, to Nick's surprise.
He watched her fumble with his belt and grinned. Fuck. Yes.
"Sure you're awake enough for this?" he teased, his voice rough. "You're not gonna fall asleep on me, are ya?"
She gave him a look and continued to struggle with his belt.
"You're not in pain, right?" he asked more seriously. "We didn't give you painkillers or anythi-"
"Boy, you're gonna be the one in pain if you don't get this goddamn belt off!" she hissed.
He laughed at her and easily undid it. He slid a hand around to her ass and squeezed. "Just burnin' up for me, huh?"
She grinned as she slid her hand into his pants and gripped his cock. "You feel the same, I guess."
Just then, and of course it had to be just then, Ellis yelled out delightedly, "Coach, I think Ro's awake! Get up!"
Nick and Ro froze, then immediately went scrambling into action.
"Shitshitshit," Nick cursed, zipping up and buttoning his pants. He refastened his belt and smoothed his hair.
"Damn that kid," she whispered, pulling her shirt back down and rolling off Nick.
By the time Coach and Ellis appeared around the corner several seconds later, Nick and Ro were innocently sitting on the floor with a good amount of space between them. Rochelle sat with her legs straight out and Nick had his crossed.
"Hey," Rochelle greeted, trying not to look guilty.
"Hey, guys," Nick said as well, waving awkwardly. Don't mind me, I just have a HUGE fucking erection. Goddamnit, Ro.
Coach glanced back and forth between the two and raised an eyebrow knowingly.
"What?" Nick demanded with clenched teeth.
"You know what," Coach growled back.
"Ro, I'm so glad yer ok!" Ellis exclaimed happily, completely oblivious. He ran to her and hugged her. "I didn't know if you were gonna make it or not! There was so much blood! Anyway, it's great t' see ya up an' alive. Did my sweatshirt help? Were ya comfy?"
"Yes, Ellis," she laughed. "Thank you. It was very sweet."
"Good, good," he grinned. "Y'know, this whole near death experience you went through reminds me of somethin' that happened to Keith. This one time-"
As he heard Ellis yammer on, Nick felt his boner die away. Guess Ellis's stories were good for something.
Coach was still giving him that look, and Nick didn't know what else to do but glare right back. Fuck him. Being all silent judge.
"How ya feelin'?" Coach said finally, interrupting Ellis.
"Better, a lot better," Rochelle admitted. "Sorry for slowin' you guys down."
"Whatever, we weren't gonna leave ya behind!" Coach declared. "You're one-a us! We all gotta stick together! Right now we're all we have."
Rochelle nodded. Nick tried not to stare at her breasts.
"So Nick," Coach said, and Nick jerked his eyes back toward him, "what's your diagnosis?"
"Uh…it's really up to her," he replied. "I only know so much about her body."
"I feel fine," she said quickly, trying not to look at Nick. She was already a little red in the face. "You guys wanna get goin'?"
"Actually, I was hopin' Coach would tell us about that idea he had earlier," Ellis spoke up. "About getting' rescued?"
"What?" Coach said, looking confused, and then he remembered. "Oh, right, right! Ok, so the Midnight Riders are playin' here in this stadium, right?"
Ellis nodded eagerly while Nick and Rochelle shrugged.
"And they have the best pyrotechnics show around, right?"
Ellis nodded again. Nick uncrossed his legs and drummed his fingers impatiently.
"So what I'm thinkin' is, we start up the show," Coach declared. "That copter's sure to see or hear us, and we'll get picked up!"
"Sounds like the best damn plan I ever heard!" Ellis cheered, jumping to his feet. "Rockin' out while killin' zombies? This is the best day-a mah life!"
They all smiled at his enthusiasm.
"All right, arm up and meet me at the stage," Coach instructed. "We'll figure out how t' turn it on and shit once we're all together."
He walked out of sight and picked up a new gun and some pills before exiting the safe room. Ellis grabbed some ammo and tore after him, singing some lyrics at the top of his lungs, leaving Nick and Rochelle alone. They looked at each other.
"Guess we should go after them," she said finally.
"Yep," Nick agreed.
They didn't move.
"So…we'll finish this later?" Rochelle asked hesitantly.
"Christ, we better," Nick replied. "I'll drug them both if I have to."
She laughed and they got to their feet. She handed him his jacket and he put it back on, grimacing a little at its appearance. Nick bent down and picked up the plush croc, holding it out to her. She smiled at it and turned her back to Nick so her could reattach it. He took his time, stroking her neck with his hand.
"Nick," she warned, but didn't push his hand away.
"Fine, fine," he sighed, strapping the croc to her back. "Just one quick thing."
He clamped his teeth into her neck and she flinched in surprise, bringing her shoulders up.
"Don't struggle, it'll hurt more," he told her, not letting go.
"What are you—are you giving me a hickey?" she demanded.
"Of course," he replied calmly.
"Why? Everyone will see it!"
"Exactly." He let go and stepped back.
She turned around and looked at him with an eyebrow raised, her hands on her hips.
"Want me to find a Sharpie so you can just write 'Property of Nick' on my forehead?" she asked sarcastically, smirking.
"Yeah, that'd be great, actually."
She rolled her eyes. "Men."
He picked up some more ammo and another medpack ("'Cause I just know you're going to need this," he teased), as well as some pills.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yeah," she replied, picking up Ellis's sweatshirt. She rubbed her neck and winced. "That really hurt."
He held up his palms. "What can I say, I'm rough."
She scowled at him. "Don't tempt me."
"Babe, I'm temptation personified."
"I'm sure."
They walked down the hallway past some bathrooms together in silence. Coach and Ellis had taken care of the Infected along the way; their bodies were slumped in various positions against walls and on the ground. They finally entered the large stadium and stopped, looking around in awe. It was huge.
"It's so weird to see it completely empty," Rochelle commented. Nick nodded.
Coach and Ellis waved to them from the main stage. "Come on, y'all, hurry up!"
Nick and Rochelle ran up onstage. Several guitars were lying around, and a mike was set up for the absent (maybe evacuated?) band. Several large speakers were onstage as well, and so were some things Nick and Rochelle didn't recognize.
"What the hell are those?" Nick asked, pointing at things that lined the front of the stage on either side of the mike.
"Those? They shoot fireworks!" Ellis told him. "All part-a the show!"
"That's…safe. Probably."
"We need to turn the lights on first," Coach told them. He pointed to the top of the bleachers opposite the stage. "They're up there. Who wants to do it?"
"Ooh, me!" Ellis cried, waving his hand in the air excitedly.
"What is this, kindergarten?" Nick asked.
Ellis took off running. He ran up the stands to the lights' control, unaware that a Hunter was jumping after him.
"Shit, Ellis! Hunter on yo' ass!" Coach tried to warn, but the boy was too far away to hear him.
Ellis switched the lights on and then stood at the top of the bleachers.
"I got 'em!" he cried.
The Hunter crouched behind him and leaped, missing and flying straight over Ellis's head. Well, it almost missed. Its foot clipped Ellis's head and the boy was knocked forward, joining the Hunter in tumbling head over heels down the rows of bleachers. They both made angry unhappy noises as they banged down to the bottom, sounding remarkably similar. The Hunter reached the ground first, landing sprawled on its back, sore all over. Ellis came tumbling down on top of it, knocking the wind out of it again and squashing it. It snarled angrily and tried to claw at Ellis, but it couldn't move well.
"Oh shut up," Ellis snapped back. "It's all your fault anyway."
He smacked it a few times with his cricket bat and it lay still.
"Ok, we ready to rock?" Ellis asked, excited again almost instantly.
"Yep, we just need to find a way to start the finale," Coach replied.
"You know who's good?" Nick interrupted. "Hugh Dillon."
"I…never heard of him," Coach admitted.
"He's ok, I guess," Rochelle said, doubtfully. "Just average, nothing spectacular."
"You kidding? I love 'Lost at Sea'!" Nick exclaimed.
"You just like him 'cause he sounds like you," Rochelle accused.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Nick replied. "Besides, we look nothing alike. He's balder than that biker douche we left back on the bridge. Asshole's probably still there, mouthing off and being useless."
"Hmm, sounds exactly like what you've been doing since day one," Rochelle smirked.
"I will kill you."
"Folks, come on," Coach interrupted. "We gotta find a way to start this shit!"
The four split up and looked around the stage. Nick stumbled across a tape deck labeled "Finale".
"Hey Coach, I think I know how to start the finale," he announced. "Hit the button labeled 'Finale'."
"Well done, clever guy," Coach replied, rolling his eyes at Nick's sarcasm. "Go on and hit it."
"You aren't going to start dancing, are you?"
"Just hit the damn thing!"
Nick pressed it. For two seconds, nothing happened. Then flames shot up from the front of the stage. Nick jumped in surprise.
"Jesus Christ!" he yelled. "This shit is dangerous!"
"So are the zombies!" Ellis yelled back.
"Zombies don't light you on fire!"
"Ah, quit bitchin' and enjoy the music!" Coach shouted.
Some old men whose voices reminded Nick of that jackass biker started singing about…something. Over the sound of the music came the roar of the Horde.
"Get ready!" Rochelle warned, clutching her axe. "They're coming!"
Soon enough, the zombies swarmed onstage, seeming to come from every direction. The four shot, whacked, and chopped the Infected as they drew close, killing the last of them as the Riders stopped singing and went into a guitar solo. Ellis joined in, air guitaring.
"Christ that kid is embarrassing," Nick muttered, covering his face with his hand.
"He's just happy," Rochelle pointed out, smiling.
A Tank roared. They spotted it by the lights control, at the top of the bleachers.
"Shit, look! The music's pissing off the Tank!" Nick cried.
"Shut up and shoot at it!" Coach yelled.
Ellis and Rochelle, being the only ones with machine guns, opened fire while the Tank was still far away. Nick and Coach shot at it when it started to get closer, and it died before it reached the stage.
The lights clicked off, and the survivors stood there awkwardly.
"That's it, huh?" Nick said, unimpressed. "Woo. Good plan."
The lights clicked back on, and different music started up. The Horde screamed again.
"OK, Round Two, people!" Coach shouted.
Shit, Nick knew this song. One Bad Man. His ex-wife liked to joke that it was about him. That bitch. Still, he thought it was ok. For an old man band.
And as he helped the others kill Infected, he found himself getting into the music. Shit, this was actually kind of awesome. No, it was awesome! There was badass music playing and they were kicking the shit out of zombies. This was badass. BAD. ASS.
Nick was pretty psyched by the time the song switched into the guitar solo. He thought he could probably take the Tank that appeared with just his crowbar. Not that he was actually going to try it, though.
Fireworks shot up high into the air as the guitar solo started, exploding into sparkling fire glitter. Nick helped blast the Tank, hoping against hope that the helicopter pilot would see the fireworks and come back.
The Tank fell dead to the ground, and the music stopped, though the fireworks continued to shoot off. The four survivors watched the sky hopefully. There was no sign of the copter, and they started to lose hope.
Then, over one of the sides of the stadium, the copter appeared. It flew in low, circled, and landed next to the right-hand side of bleachers, hovering.
"It worked!" Nick shouted joyously. "I love you, Coach!"
"Well shit, then why'd you give me the hickey?" Rochelle joked in a low voice, grinning.
He grinned back at her and they started running for the helicopter, beating the fresh wave of Infected who ran at them out of their way. They jumped in and helped Coach and Ellis inside, and the pilot pulled away and flew out before an incoming Tank caught up.
Flying safely above the ground, the four survivors laughed and joked contentedly, hoping to meet other survivors in the New Orleans evac station. Nick put his hand over Rochelle's and squeezed it. She leaned against him and sighed, and they looked out over the land.
Up here, it was like the zombie apocalypse had never happened.
OH ELLIS YOU ARE ONE GIANT COCKBLOCK
Also Hugh Dillon did Nick's voice, in case you didn't know. And yes, he's a musician.
Shit, this is the fastest and longest fanfic I've written. It was done in what, four days? Jesus.
So, hope you liked it. I loved reading your responses and writing it. Sorry it was done so fast. See you somewhere!