A/N: Chapter 17, a wee bit late, though still here. Big announcement afterwards!
I don't own Left 4 Dead.
I wanted to jump up, right then, and hug him and talk to him and ask him if he was being treated right, and kick some ass if he wasn't, but I couldn't (Thanks to the IV's) and didn't, so instead I just smiled till I felt like I'd cry, and then I did, a little bit, out of sheer relief.
Stop being such a damn wuss. I thought, but I did, anyways.
I think I couldn't've stopped it, in any case.
"Denver." I said, through the blurriness of my eyes and the relief flooding through me. "I'm sorry. I did it of survival, and I nearly succeeded, and if they hadn't stopped me in time—"
"Did what?" He asked. His voice was sort of scratchy, like it was when I first found him, but still recognizable.
I gave him an incredulous look. Maybe he doesn't remember. I thought, but I plowed on nonetheless.
"Den, I nearly shot you through the head. It's sort of hard to miss."
"Oh." He said, staring at the ceiling. "That. I tried to kill you, too."
"You were infected with a zombie-rage virus, Den."
"I could've controlled it."
"No, you couldn't. I, however, can control whether or not I shoot you!"
"You did it for survival, Mar. You did what you had to."
"Den, you nearly died."
"So did you."
"Well, you managed to snap out of it long enough for me to escape, just so I could go back and kill you! You had a bear trap on your leg, for God's sake! I was on the verge of putting you out of your misery!"
"Mar, I was about to claw you!"
"Which is why I was putting you out of your misery!"
"Good!"
I stopped, trying to come up with a decent retort, but I couldn't. There just wasn't any fight left; it was like it was all drained out, and replaced sort of a clean, empty feeling in me.
I sighed. "Let's put this behind us, 'k? We both did what was…natural for us, so let's just call it history and move on. The important thing is that we're safe, right?"
"Right." He smiled, relaxed.
"Even if we being held captive by the CEDA." I said, staring at the ceiling again.
"Yeah."
"So, how are you?" I asked, after a pregnant pause. I wasn't really thinking at this point; just enjoying the drunkenness of solace in my head.
"Fine." Denver said, happy to switch topics. "My arms and legs hurt a lot, though. And I feel pretty stiff."
"About that..."
"So, how did we get here? And why am I not…?" Den tried to make a gesture with his hands, but was blocked by the straps, so he simply grimaced, toothily.
"Craving for human flesh, you mean?" He nodded.
I sighed. "This is probably gonna take awhile..."
He stayed quiet for a long time after I told him.
He was just lying there, staring up at the ceiling, like he needed to mull over what I just said before he could believe it.
I left him be.
Eventually, though, he broke the silence.
"What's it mean for us?" He asked, quietly.
I shrugged. "I have no idea. I don't know if they'll keep us here, or if they'll let us go…or what'll happen to you." I trailed off, trying not to let the cynical side of me suggest any ideas. (None of them were pretty. Trust me on this.)
"Mar?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think they'll take you away? Separate us?"
"If they do, Den, I'll give them hell. I'll make sure we stick together. I promise."
I wish Marcy still had her books with her.
Maybe should could read to me then, and all the empty parts in my head that keep making noises would be quiet, and I'd feel normal.
I remember back home, with her next to me, and the smell of smoke and wood and dirt and a little bit of fear, like before. I want to be back there, but without the fear.
/I love you/
"Marcy?"
"Mmm?" she says, sleepily.
"How did you find me?"
She smells sad, for some reason. "You were still sick, then. You attacked me, and I thought I killed you, but…"
There are more noises in my head now. The smell of burning, the taste of blood, a big sound like a crash, and falling…
"You were trapped in the wire fence. I felt bad for you, and was about to end it for you, and…You spoke to me. And I guess I saw something in you, because I helped you…" she sighs. "You looked so damn helpless, I couldn't stop myself."
"When I was in that dark-place." I say, slowly. "I heard…something. You said you were sorry."
"I was. I still am."
"And…you said I love you."
She breathes in sharply, and stops for a little while. Then she relaxes. "I guess you could call it the Florence Nightingale effect." She says. I don't know what a Florence Nightingale is, but I keep listening.
"I just…" She stops. "I got attached. I don't know how it happened, but I did."
She turns to me, now. 'I do love you, Denver. I thought that, then, you were going to die…and I wanted to know if you were still in there. If you could still hear. And…
You could."
She reaches across the part between our beds, and it's far, but she touches my arm.
"We'll get out of this. I hope." She says. "And I still love you, Denver."
"I love you too, Mar."
A/N: That's it for Chapter 17; it's short, yet sweet. (Hopefully!) If you liked this chapter, recommend it; if you didn't like it, tell me why didn't. I love your con-crit, people!
In other news, I am having an Author Q&A session! Yaaaay! *Kermit flail* Ask me anything about me/my writing; where I get my ideas, my writing process, what I like to eat for breakfast, my plans for the (as-yet-untitled) sequel; anything that's fair game. Ask as many as you like, just post your questions in the section for this chapter (Chapter 17) or on the comment section for the announcement on my Wordpress (link on my profile)
The questions (and answers) will be post on the aforementioned Wordpress. Deadline for questions in August 21.
Thanks, and have fun asking!
-Author