Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead, Valve does.
Author's Note: I will be shifting the Primary/Secondary Characters to whichever two survivors the current chapter is focused on.
Author's Note #2: Zoey's background for this project was created before the comic was released…and I wasn't about to rewrite a good chunk of a chapter because of a few minor details. However, just for the laughs, her background in this chapter runs with the official storyline.
Ties that Bind
By: Confused Confusion
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Eternal Guardian
Character Focus: Zoey and Bill
Bill was the leader, plain and simple. There had been no voting, no suggesting, no challenge…what room existed for such ceremonial formalities? What time did they have to waste on such decisions? When he found them – one by one – they were drawn to him like moths clinging to the final shred of light in existence. In a dire and hopeless situation he emerged without fear, his mind conditioned to excel in such situations…well, maybe not this kind of situation per say. As such, they followed him with minimum complaints, most of them belonging to a certain obnoxious biker. What choice did they really have? Stay and die or follow the crazy old guy?
After recovering from the anesthesia, Bill's main priority had been to get out of Fairfield as fast as he could. From a first glance, it seemed the city and its citizens were already doomed, left to suffer in their fates. That was when he came across Francis, pinned down by an Infected outside a bar. The biker had been struggling with a former friend on top of him, shouting profanities and threats at the Infected despite his situation. Numerous bodies littered the street and around the building, testaments to the struggle that had taken place. A handful of remaining Infected were drawn to the biker's shouts, the pack rapidly closing in on the defenseless man.
Bill's logic had told him to leave the obnoxious man to his fate, pointing out that the man's behavior would hinder his escape. His heart; however, argued that his oath to protect his fellow countrymen wouldn't allow him to leave the insufferable biker to die. Emotion ultimately won out, and Bill rescued Francis from his fate, only to receive a 'Who the hell are you?' from the larger man as a thanks. Regardless, Francis tagged long with the veteran, toting a worn pump shotgun and a maniacal grin to preserve what little may have remained of his sanity. They had a peculiar relationship, never agreeing with each other…but never quite disagreeing either. It was as if Francis would constantly disagree with Bill just to piss the veteran off, only to comply with any requests after having his laugh. A rumor brought them to the university, a whisper of an evacuation point, or at the very least, a radio.
That was when they came across Zoey. The young woman, after witnessing the destruction of her family, had raced to the only place she had left in the collapsing city: her dorm. The lack of aide sent Bill and his new acquaintance to scavenge the buildings for any possible supplies. The resident halls were a key target, due to several of the students keeping mini fridges in the rooms. The duo quickly found that the plan backfired, as most of the students kept nothing but junk food within the compartments. Bill didn't know what the hell 'Monster' was, but after reading the can's contents, he had put the infernal thing back with a grimace.
They had just been about to give up when an Infected had sent Francis crashing into Zoey's dorm room. The scuffle ended quickly, and the former human joined another corpse – most likely her roommate – on the room's floor. Zoey had been standing in the bathroom's doorway, looking wary and frightened of the two visitors. Again, Bill's mind had heavily urged him to abandon the girl, but his heart once again won out. He had done his best to ease the young woman's suspicions and fears of them, despite Francis growling out to leave her, arguing that she wouldn't make it downtown. Bill had acknowledged the biker's words, but gave Zoey the option of staying or leaving with them. Like a lost child in a store, she clung to him – the Good Samaritan – hoping that he would fight away the horrors that threatened to consume them all. Francis was open with his disdain, but for whatever reason – perhaps by some odd code of honor – protected Zoey far beyond what Bill would have given him credit for. Time in their presence, witnessing their small squabbles and banter, had set the young woman at ease, and she soon began to open up from the terror-stricken survivor to the sarcastic teenager they had come to know.
Louis had been found huddled underneath a stairwell. A fenced barricade had forced the trio to cut through a chain of buildings to traverse to the other side of the block. The businessman had burst from his hiding place, his frantic cries shouting out a single syllable in the echoing stairwell before Bill had pinned him against the wall, a wrinkled hand firmly clamped over his mouth. Bill had long since given up listening to his brain, but swore that this would be the final one. His experiences had taught him that for any form of stealth operation, a four-man cell was the maximum. So after an exchange of words – mainly Bill's threats and Louis' fearful nods – the veteran had allowed the businessman to tag along.
He had chanced upon them…all of them. His traveling through numerous back alleys and side streets had led him to Francis. Had the biker not been tackled into Zoey's dorm room, they would have never found her. If there hadn't of been a blockade, Louis would have most likely have been found by the Infected, not by a group of survivors. It was as if fate or some greater power had willed them to come together…like they were meant for this. Fate or not, they were under his care now, and he would make sure they stayed safe, come hell or high water.
Bill dropped himself onto a simple folding chair a few feet from Zoey's knapsack. Louis had turned in for the night…or at least until Francis would come to wake him with a boot on his head. The businessman's sleeping bag was near the doorway, but positioned on the far side of the desk, allowing him some resistance to Francis' thunderous snores for when he returned. Although Bill couldn't spot Louis from his position, the relative silence coming from his corner of the room indicated the dark-skinned man's sound sleep. Zoey – however – was anywhere but a sound sleep. The brunette tossed and turned within her bedding, small whimpers escaping her lips while beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
The first instinct that came to the veteran was to wake the fitful youth from her nightmare as soon as he could, but a small voice in the back of his mind told him otherwise. It was no secret that – surprisingly – all three of his companions had a habit of talking in their sleep. It was how he learned that Louis was addicted to something called 'Jimmy John's' and that Francis had a peculiar fear of Santa Claus. Zoey's sleep-talking usually centered on her parents, whose fates she had shared with them some time ago, ranging from regret to anger, and happiness to sorrow.
It was a cruel thing to do – Bill's heart reminded him – to leave someone trapped within a nightmare. A sense of fatherly protection swelled within him, causing his hand to absentmindedly reach out toward Zoey's shoulder. The brunette's faced creased with something akin to horror before sobbing out one word:
"No…"
Bill's hand froze mid-movement, aged blue eyes widening briefly in surprise. His mouth suddenly felt dry, forcing him to swallow the lump in his throat. "Zoey?"
The youthful survivor tossed her head side to side, her bangs plastered across her pale face. "Guys…don't…"
Bill gave her a gentle shake, trying to rouse her from whatever it was that plagued her mind.
"No…please…" Zoey hand escaped the confines on her sleeping bag, weakly reaching out for some phantom thing. "Don't…die…"
Alarms blared within Bill's mind at the plea, his hand taking a firmer grip and a more forceful shake. "Zoey, wake up!"
The motion and hissed command brought Zoey from the depths of her nightmare, the young woman bolting upright in her bag. Bill's hand clamped over her mouth before the terrified scream could erupt from her throat. A muffled cry was all that was able to escape, a tense silence following it. The veteran breathed a small sigh of relief. The noise hadn't awoken Louis, and Francis wasn't charging through the warehouse to see what was wrong. Dilated ocean blue eyes frantically darted around in a mixture of fear and confusion, their owner's breaths coming out in rapid heaves.
"Look at me, Zo."
The brunette's attention snapped to him, as if just now noticing his presence. Her breathing slowed, her eyes showing familiarity as the young woman finally grasped her surroundings. Bill carefully removed his hands from Zoey's mouth, eyeing the youth with worry. The veteran leaned back in his chair, allowing the younger survivor to collect her thoughts for a moment.
"Nightmare?"
Zoey tucked a few strands of damp hair behind her ear, offering the elderly man a numb nod as she stared straight ahead.
"Bad?"
A haunted look graced Zoey's features before she merely nodded again. Bill's worry only grew at the uncharacteristic actions.
"Wanna talk about it?"
The brunette paused for a moment before shaking her head. "I'd rather not."
Bill snorted. "I hear it's good for you."
Another shake of her head. "You don't want to hear it."
The veteran heaved a sigh while running a hand over his face. "Listen, Zo, I know that you're mad at me…"
"No!" Zoey hissed, turning toward the former Green Beret as if she were about to cling to him. Catching herself, the young woman instead pulled her knees to her chest.
"I'm not angry with you."
"It's alright, kid, I can handle it…"
Zoey shook her head forcefully, turning to look Bill in the eye. "I know we have our squabbles and disagreements from time to time, but I'm never mad at you…this time's no different."
"Well…that's a relief." Bill sighed with a fatherly smile.
"…Are you mad at me?"
The veteran blinked in surprise. "Of course not…hell, I hate myself for making such a cowardly choice."
Zoey once again shook her head. "It's not cowardly…well, it kind of is…but you're doing it for us."
A grey eyebrow rose. "What brings on this sudden change of opinion?"
The youth smiled. "I received a pep talk."
Bill nodded in understanding, a knowing smirk grazing his lips. "So…are we 'cool' now?"
Zoey giggled at Bill's awkward attempt at using the phrase 'cool.'
The former Green Beret frowned as the brunette continued to laugh at him. "What's so funny?"
The young woman cupped her mouth with her hand, fighting back the louder laughs that threatened to spill forth.
"Alright, it's not that funny."
The laughter subsided as Zoey waved an apologetic hand at the veteran. "Sorry, Bill…but yeah, we're 'cool.'"
Bill's wrinkles creased even further as Zoey mimicked his own usage of the word, sending the young woman into another fit of laughter.
"Sorry, couldn't resist."
The spry old man's faux anger broke away, and Bill shook his head good-naturedly. The moment was a peaceful one, something that Bill always cherished, but felt his grin falter as he gazed into Zoey's eyes.
"You sure you don't want to talk about it?"
Zoey sighed. "It was just a nightmare, Bill. People have them all the time."
"You mentioned us though…"
The young woman's eyes grew wide, her head snapping toward the older man. "How much did I say?"
"Not much," Bill answered vaguely, his eyes boring into hers. "Come on, Zo, just tell me."
"Why?"
The former Green Beret shrugged. "That's what dads are supposed to do, right? Comfort their kids after a nightmare?"
Zoey blinked. "What…what did you just say?"
Bill's eyes widened as he caught his words. "Oh! Um…nothing?"
Zoey watched as Bill coughed into his fist while sheepishly scratching the back of his head. It was odd to see the hardened, serious soldier in such an embarrassed state, but the brunette found the scene strangely endearing.
Pink lips twitched upward. "It's okay."
Confusion swept over the humiliation on Bill's face. "What?"
Zoey offered him a sincere smile. "It's okay…I've actually seen you as a second father-figure to be honest."
The veteran's face broke into another smile. "…Thank you."
The youthful survivor nodded, her expression once more turning serious. "You really want to know about my dream?"
Bill's posture slumped ever so slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his features at the young woman's somber tone. "If you're really willing to share…"
Zoey offered a nod of consent when the veteran trailed off, her brow furrowing as she delved into her memory. "Some of it's a little hazy…hell, most of it's hazy at this point."
The elderly man shrugged and leaned forward. "That's alright…just tell me what you do remember."
"I'm not sure where exactly we were…I think it was some kind of bridge? Or maybe a lighthouse? Ugh, it's all starting to run together."
Bill looked on intently, staring at his companion with unwavering attention. The scrutinizing gaze made Zoey suddenly feel somewhat uneasy. Tucking a few strands of loose hair behind her ear, she let out a soft laugh. "I can barely even remember it, Bill. I'm sure if we just leave it for a minute, I'll forget about the whole thing."
The group's leader shook his head resolutely. "I know it may seem like you'll just forget it like any other dream, but it won't…not entirely."
A questioning glance was all that answered him.
"Just…just trust me on this." Bill muttered after a moment with a sigh, a haunted look passing over his face for but a flicker of a second.
Zoey's eyes widened as she caught on to what he was saying. Bill was practically an expert with traumatizing dreams. Vietnam…the horror, the blood, the death, the carnage; they had all plagued the veteran at some point after the war, torturing him into PTSD. Bill wasn't speaking out of comfort…
…He was speaking out of experience.
"I thought I could carry on through it by myself, too," Bill murmured after a moment, recognizing the realization as it dawned on the young survivor's face. "But it just kept coming back, as if it were mocking me; reminding me of my sins…my weaknesses."
"What did you do?" Zoey croaked as he trailed off.
The grey beard twitched as the veteran flashed her a knowing smile. "I talked to someone about them…and they disappeared, one by one."
The brunette felt herself snort at Bill's seemingly effortless and simple suggestion. "How can I talk to you about it if I don't even remember all of it?"
Bill inclined his head at her. "You remember the 'important' part, don't you?"
Fear washed over Zoey like death's shadow, blue eyes unconsciously darting between Louis' corner and the barely-open door of the office where Francis' quiet griping about fireflies could be heard through the small gap. The young woman pressed her forehead against her knees, her body rigid.
"Zoey?"
The woman in question refused to acknowledge him.
"Zoey!" Bill hissed, giving the brunette a hard shake. Zoey's head snapped up, wild-eyed and torn between reality and hallucination. "Zoey, what happened?"
The former college student released a shaky laugh, a breath of hysteria clinging to the sound. "I know I should be used to the possibility by now. After all, it could happen to any one of us at any given time in this world."
Bill chose to remain silent as Zoey turned to him, tears brimming along the edges of her eyes. Despite all that the soldier had experienced in his lifetime, none of it quite prepared him for the true weight of Zoey's next words:
"…All of you died…"
The elderly man felt his mouth instantly dry. It was true that their fates constantly hung in the air around them. All it would take is a small error of judgment…one tiny stroke of bad luck, and they would be no more. Regardless, it was something of a taboo subject among them. Despite it being just so apparent, they would always instead focus on making it through their current situation…all parties accounted for.
Bill was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost missed the rest of Zoey's recollection.
"And I was powerless to do anything…there were just so many of them. We were divided, picked off one by one. Francis had gone down in a blaze of glory…"
A sob wracked Zoey's small frame. "Louis had been screaming for help…"
The tears ran freely down her cheeks as the brunette looked up to gaze at Bill. "I can't…I can't remember your…death…but somehow I know it was the worst of them all…"
Zoey trailed off, another sob trying to work its way up her throat. She brought her hands up in an attempt to brush away the tears. A wrinkled hand caught hers, bringing the pale limb over to the veteran. The brunette blinked as Bill placed her palm against his chest without word. Through the cotton material of his yellow shirt, Zoey could feel the chain of the former Green Beret's dog tags. Shooting her fellow survivor a very confused look, Zoey opened her mouth to question his actions…when she felt it.
Tha-Thump. Tha-Thump. Tha-Thump. Tha-Thump.
"It may be ancient," Bill chuckled with a grin. "But this heart of mine's still beating."
"What…"
Bill continued, ignoring the perplexed look he was receiving. "And as long as it is, you don't have to worry about any of us dying."
The veteran released Zoey's hand, still chuckling. "You have my word, Zo."
Zoey stared at her open hand where she could still feel the phantom of Bill's pulse. The promise worked its magic, and a smile slowly split across her face. The two shared a grin before Zoey laid back down in her sleeping bag.
"Thanks, Bill."
The veteran nodded, a smile still on his lips. "No problem, kiddo."
Sleep quickly began to claim the young woman as her eyelids drooped lower and lower. "I don't have to worry after all."
Bill hummed in agreement, watching with a touch of paternal affection as Zoey struggled in vain to fight off sleep.
"Because you'll always be there for us."
The elderly man remained silent, waiting until the youth had drifted off into slumber before tilting his head back to gaze at the ceiling.
"Yeah…always…"
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A/N: Done! (Pops confetti gun) At last, after seven and a half years of FanFiction, I have finally…finally…completed a project outside of a one-shot! I loved this project from start to finish, and although it may not have the most reviews in the world, you guys made it happen where it really counted in Alerts and Favorites (I understand…was never really much of a review guy myself). Now that I am closing the door on this…I may even do one on the L4D2 survivors, but who knows (I rather dislike their characters…although Nick is by far my favorite). Let me just dish out a BIG 'Thank You!' to those of you who have supported this project of mine throughout its creation:
Confu's Wall of Thanks
Patrick the PROTOTYPE
Zipper Whippersnapper (True to my word, I shall start on your request over Thanksgiving break once I'm done editing this sucker.)
Saharaheart12
Dance in the Moonlight
Badger
Imaginary Snow
Hahli nuva
Kynmarcher17
Moe Fox
MrAnonymas
mrawgirl09
Taora
Writer on the Run
Azrael3300
EagleFox
iXine
mrawgirl09
Shizuka Eien
TheNightmirage (Thanks again for the constructive review. How'd I do with Bill on this one?)
To anyone new who makes the list after this chapter is posted.
And to all the readers out there who helped push the total hits above 1,300 (More than I thought this would get.)
Enough of that though, time to move on to my comments for this chapter. It was a little on the short side for my tastes…but I decided not to add Bill's death scene (you guys already know what happens anywho). Regardless, I'm rather proud of how this chapter turned out overall. I wanted to capture the father/daughter relationship without it getting too mushy. I may have failed in that aspect…but whatever, I'm still happy with it! Bill's intro was a little vague (in relation to the other survivors' segments that I scattered throughout the chapters), but I didn't want to run the risk of paralleling or (Fang forbid) copying anything mentioned in The River Styx. Still, I think it fits with the overall feel of the chapter.
As always, reviews and feedback are appreciated.
- C.C.