RAWR! TIME FOR UBER FLUFFINESS AND OOC OF FRANCIS! C:

Okay, this is like, a father/daughter fluffy thing between a child witch and our favourite (or not so favourite) biker survivor! :D No real pairings though, so there's not gonna be any romance, but a little hinted stuff with Zoey and Francis; being where Zoey is the witch's "mommy" and Francis the "daddy", but it doesn't go any further than that.

Warnings: LOTS OF FLUFF. : 3 …And smidgen of cussing, not much though...

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, own Left 4 Dead. It is created and owned by Valve, and the only thing that's purely mine in this FanFic is the witch and the plot. Other than that, I sadly own nothing. :C

CLANK!

The sound of the saferoom door being shut after fighting off a particularly brutal horde was comforting to the weary survivors. As Bill, the oldest of the group, surveyed the room and supplies, Louis and Francis were busy looking through a crate. Zoey was sitting by a pile of blankets, which were surprisingly clean, and was attempting to put a bandage on the slash across her arm.

Bill was a kind (in his on kind of way, and if you knew him well enough), elderly war veteran with his army green beret and jacket, coupled with a constant cigarette hanging from his mouth. He was hardly the defenseless old man some thought he was; in fact, he was perfectly capable of handling himself, but he decided to travel with his younger team members for support, comfort, firepower, and company. He sighed, lighting another cigarette he had gotten from the dwindling pack in his jacket pocket.

Francis, on the other hand, was cocky, not very kind, and only saw the apocalypse as a sort of huge bar fight. A frequent at bars and such, he was always looking for trouble and had gotten his wish when he got bored of bar fights, and the infection had broken out. Instead of panicking or hiding like other people, he ran right into the fight with a shotgun and a smile on his face. The man's appearance spelled out trouble; with his white undershirt, precious leather vest, dark jeans, black boots, and the tattoo on his arm. He always voiced his complaints and hatred for anything except vests.

Louis, a young office worker, assisted his team as much as he could and was always trying to be helpful. It seemed like he could smell a bottle of pills two miles away, and usually grabbed enough to last the team at least four hordes. Sometimes, the young man resented Francis and his constant bickering and complaining, but he saw him as a brother, a teammate; family. In fact, everyone in the mismatched group of survivors saw each other as family, and would stop at nothing to protect each other. Adjusting from the office life, he was a good shot with an M16 and really pulled his weight when it came to finding supplies.

Zoey, the youngest and most fiery of the group, had just been in college watching zombie apocalypse movies before the infection hit. The young woman wasn't all that good at schoolwork, but she did try her hardest; when she wasn't watching the gore-filled zombie and horror movies her father snuck into the college for her. Because Bill was so alike to her father, and looked much like him, she stuck to his side like glue. She missed her mother and father dearly, but Zoey knew she had to keep her emotions at bay in order to survive. No distractions. Instead of thinking of how horrible the infection was or about how she missed her family, Zoey thought of the future and how to survive with what little supplies the group could find.

A shout came from Francis and Louis, who had been behind some crates at the back of the room. Fearing the worst, Bill and Zoey rushed towards their teammates and were met with the most peculiar sight. Louis was standing next to Francis, with an empty box in his arms; which had an upside down arrow on it, and broken glass and spilled liquor on the ground. Francis was drenched in beer, from the smell of it, and was looking incredibly pissed at Louis.

"Eheheh… We found beer.." Louis said, laughing uncomfortably. Zoey and Bill, sighing with relief, untensed their bodies and put down their weapons. "Well, I found them, but Louis just HAD to pick up the box upside down!" Francis shouted, charging after Louis who dropped said box with a squeak.

Laughing, the biker caught up to Louis and shoved him face first to the ground, right into a puddle of water that had dripped from a leak in the ceiling. "Ouch! Franny!" Louis shouted as he flailed, attempting and failing from getting his friend off. Francis barked a laugh, letting go of the smaller man saying, "Ha! Serves you right for dropping the beer! Now let's go get that other crate down and get more." He offered a hand to Louis, who took it and lightly whacked the man's shoulder.

Zoey was laughing, sweeping the broken bottles over with her foot. "They're so much like brothers." She said, looking over at Bill, who had taken up residence in a comfy looking chair. The other two men had pulled down another box of the liquor, passing the drinks to their team.

While Louis and Francis were having a beer-chugging contest, Bill and Zoey lightly sipped their beverages, overlooking the pair's antics. Bill remained silent as always; either thinking of how little chance they stood, or of how they were going to prepare for the journey tomorrow. Hopefully the latter, because the former seemed a little grim and depressing. The only female of the group spoke up, stopping the three men's drinking in their tracks. "I hear a witch.." She stopped to look around, then continued as they all listened. "It doesn't sound normal though.. Almost like-" Bill cut her off, frowning

"Like a child."

The ragtag group stood and walked to the other saferoom door and looked out. They could see a witch, but she looked to be about 9 or 10. She wasn't covered in blood and nothing of her even looked menacing; save for the sharp claws, which were a little shorter than an older witch. The little infected girl was wearing a white dress, which was torn at the bottom, and small black flats. Her hair was a platinum blonde, almost white, with a little ribbon on the left side. What shocked the survivors even more were her eyes, which were visible as she looked to the dark, cloudy sky.

Her eyes were a deep shade of purple; different than the other witches' eyes. Her sobbing subsided for a moment, and she spoke in a chilling tone; though it still sounded like a human child. "I'm sorry… I don't want to be in pain anymore, and I miss everyone… What am I going to do..?" She stopped talking then, and began to sob even louder.

The survivors turned from the sight and looked at each other, unsure of what to do. They didn't notice that Francis had something shiny in his pocket, but they did notice that he had a sort of smirk on his face. Cocking his shotgun, he said "Time to crown a witch."

The second the words left his mouth, Zoey gasped in horror. She spoke with an angry voice, not wanting Francis to hurt the child witch. "Francis! We can't just kill her! We should wait for her to move or something.." She trailed off as Francis scoffed and rolled his eyes to look at her. He spoke sarcastically, "Would you wait and see what I'm about to do, woman?"

Said woman glared at him, crossed her arms, and stood with one of her hips to the side. "And what would that be?" Zoey said, with emphasis on the 'what.'

With a rarely-seen smile, Francis just laughed quietly and handed an M16 to the former office worker. "Bill and Zoey, you two stay here with the door open and wait for me and Louis." Without waiting for a response, he pulled the steel bar off the saferoom door and looked at Louis. He nodded to the younger man, and they crept outside with their flashlights off.

Louis, not knowing what to do, followed Francis with his gun trained in front of him, should his teammate need assistance. As they got closer to the small witch, the shorter man could see an unreadable expression on the other's face, and began to wonder what the hell Francis was about to do. Before he could ask, they heard a small gasp from the child infected.

Instead of screaming and lunging for the pair with claws outstretched, the child just looked at them with tears in her purple eyes. They now could see a burn mark on the side of her face, giving her an eerie essence. She stopped sobbing and fully turned her body to face the two men. "Go ahead," she began. "Put me out of my misery, please…" The child closed her eyes, tensing and waiting for the man with the shotgun to end her life.

When she heard a clank, she opened her eyes and looked up to the man in the black vest. He was smiling, and was weaponless. He had put his shotgun down on the ground, and his buddy had his weapon at his side. She noticed the taller one pull something shiny from his pocket, and allowed her curious eyes to follow the movement of his hand. When the item was in view, she was confused as he slowly walked to her and crouched in front of the girl.

"Here you go, Princess." The man spoke softly, as he put a small tiara on the little witch girl's blonde hair. She reached a clawed hand up to it and felt it, then broke into a small smile. He extended his hand, smirking, and said "So, you're not gonna hurt us are ya? Because we are definitely not gonna hurt you." Shaking her head, she took the outstretched hand and stood to her full height; which wasn't much.

Francis was grinning happily as he scooped her up like a father would his daughter. Putting her on his shoulders, he bent down and picked up his gun. "Let's go introduce you to the family." With that, he and Louis began walking back to the saferoom.

When they returned, Zoey immediately gaped and rushed toward Francis. This scared the little witch, as she squeaked and nearly fell off his shoulders. Grabbing the girl and holding her in his arms, the man in the vest glared at the woman, saying "You can't just rush towards her, she's a little skittish." Zoey, not expecting him to be bringing back the child, gasped as she saw the slashes on her arms and legs. They were from the common zombies picking on her, and accidental cuts from her own claws; as she was not used to them.

"She's hurt!" Zoey exclaimed, snatching her from Francis' grasp and setting the witch on a table near a medicine cabinet. The child looked up to Zoey, not understanding why she would be freaking out over a few cuts when she herself had bruises and lots of gashes on her arms. Grabbing an extra medkit, Zoey began wrapping the small girl's wounds.

"You poor baby.." She cooed, ruffling the girl's hair around the tiara. Just then, she saw the shiny item and understood what Francis had meant by 'crowning the witch'; he hadn't meant shooting her in the head with a shotgun, no, he had meant literally putting a crown on the girl's head. She smiled at him, proud of his kindness. Slightly blushing, he scoffed and turned his head away.

"Mommy," the girl said in a small and cute voice, "Why is daddy blushing?" Zoey laughed at her words and their new titles, and explained to the witch. "Daddy's just mad at me because he finally did something nice and doesn't want to admit it." Smiling, she hugged the little girl. "Do you have a name?" She said, not really expecting her to remember much from her human life.

"Anastasia." The little witch replied after a moment of thought, then smiled a little. At this, the group couldn't help but smile widely.

"Well, Anastasia, what do you think of traveling with Mommy Zoey, Daddy Francis, Grandpa Bill, and Uncle Louis?" Zoey asked, looking at her adorable face. She looked around, her beautiful purple eyes captivating as she replied.

"I would love to."

THE END!

A/N: You thought I was gonna continue it, didn't ya? :D sorry, but it's meant to be a oneshot, but I could maybe continue it a but if I get enough good responses for it, idk. :\

I should probably be doing my homework, which is all due very soon, but I've had this FanFic idea in my head for a while and I just HAD to write it! X3

So, do ya hate it or love it? Drop me a comment or review and I'll be a happy girl. ;3 Love y'all, and I hope to write more for ya in the future!