ANOTHER L4D2 fic?! ...yes. Don't judge me!

"She's dead, Nick. Sorry, but she's dead."

Nick's stomach knotted at the weedy voice crackling from the payphone receiver.

"Oh," he said simply, and stared at a display stand of Slim Jims and beef jerky. It was hard to take the information seriously among the haphazard shelves of candies and semi-edible foods that criss-crossed the convenience store. Nearby, a dozen hot dogs slowly roasted in a glowing red rotisserie and a group of children clamored in front of the donut display, pressing their dirty faces and hands against the glass.

The line on the other end was silent save for the minute sounds of interference, before the voice spoke again.

"The Green Flu, y'know. Not much anyone could--"

"Yeah, I know," Nick said a little more harshly than he meant to. But then again, what did he care?

"Is that all you needed?" the voice on the other end was brisk, unoffended, "because dammit, Nick, I got shit to do and--"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's all I wanted."

"Call me later."

"Yeah," he answered and slipped the receiver back into its metal slot.

So Ava was dead too. Not that it was a deep blow, they'd been divorced for years, after all, and he still got headaches just thinking about all the grief she'd caused him during the course of their marriage and well beyond. But she was another to add to the list of people who had died during the outbreak. Slowly, piece by piece, he was finding those who had once been on his inner circle were now long gone, their bodies burned or buried or still roaming in the woods somewhere, rabid and hungry.

"Hey Nick!" Ellis came bounding up to him, ever-excited, with two large plastic-domed cups in hand, "I got us some slushies! The blue kind! Those're the best. I mean, the red kind's good too...but I never really understood the Coke slushie, I mean, it's jes' a frozen Coke, right? No reason t'get all excited or nothin', I could make frozen Cokes at home jes' by stickin' a can in the freezer."

His tone trailed off toward the end of his spiel as he noticed the look on Nick's face.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Nothing, Overalls. You ready to go?"

"Yeah, jes' lemme grab a couple'a donuts, I been cravin' them little sugar-coated sons'a'bitches since this mornin'!" Ellis shoved the cups into Nick's hands and loped off.

After the Infection hit, Nick had sworn to himself he'd never again set foot in Savannah. But here he was now, not just visiting but fucking living in it. Sometimes he regretted it, and he'd remember the last time they'd seen Rochelle, her head shaking wearily as they stood amongst a convoy of green trucks.

"You know I love y'all, but I just can't go back there," she had said before giving them all tight hugs goodbye, "just can't do it."

But Ellis had been insistant on returning back to his hometown and helping with the rebuilding efforts, and Nick had nowhere to go anyway. Most of Nick's so-called "business partners" had died, and the ones who hadn't had gone further underground than usual in an effort to escape the infection. They still hadn't surfaced, and he couldn't say he blamed them.

He watched as Ellis gently shooed the children away from the donut display, and couldn't help but wonder how, exactly, Ava had died.

"An' over there, that's where The Marshall House used t'be," Ellis took a hefty bite out of his donut and a sip of the slushie, nodding toward the charred shell of what used to be a hotel, "Mos' haunted buildin' in Savannah! Or, shit, it used t'be. Wunner where the ghosts went when the place got tore up by zombies..."

"Are you even aware of how ridiculous you sound right now?"

Ellis ignored him and nodded to the building ahead of them.

"An' that big buildin' down there is the college li'bry. I ain't never been in there on account'a ya needed a school ID an' college was never really my bag. Looks like them crews is patchin' it up."

Upon noting the construction crews clearing rubble, Ellis stuffed the rest of the donut into his mouth and grabbed Nick's hand, squeezing it lightly. Nick rolled his eyes.

Once, after a night of particularly good sex, he had admitted to Ellis in a post-coital haze that construction workers gave him the creeps now, after that whole ordeal at the sugar mill. Ellis had laughed and laughed and Nick had thrown him out of the bedroom and locked the door. But ever since then, Ellis had the habit of trying to comfort Nick in some way when they were around anyone wearing glaring yellow hard hats and safety vests.

"I'm fine, Overalls," he muttered, yanking his hand away. Some of the powder from Ellis' donuts had gotten onto his fingers and he wiped it unceremoniously against the mechanic's shirt.

"I know that," Ellis grinned, and brushed the powder off, "Yor fine as hell."

Nick smirked and they continued down the road, toward home.

The house was relatively small, quaint. Not exactly the first place Nick would have chosen to live. It had three floors, but the first floor housed a parking garage and the floor space of the upper two floors was tiny. The top story, however, boasted a magnificent view of downtown Savannah, and it was right on the river, which was another thing Ellis had insisted upon.

"That shit happens again, we'll have like, the perfect vantage point!" he had remarked excitedly while exploring the house, " An' we so close t'the river, we kin jes' hop a boat an' be safe from any zombies! Them suckers cain't swim none, 'member?"

Nick had been surprised by his cleverness, and even more surprised when he had actually ended up living there.

The days usually left Nick alone and restless. The government had been collecting the names and information of everyone left alive from the epidemic, issuing jobs and instructions and, on good days, supplies and money to encourage the rebuilding process. Nick had tactfully avoided having his name collected by the agencies. He had never liked the thought that the government so much as knew he existed. So, hey, if they thought he was dead, great.

Ellis hadn't really understood Nick's desire to remain unknown, but he had no qualms, and set about on his government-issued job of fixing military vehicles. Once, Nick had gone with Ellis to explore the ruins of his auto shop. The boy had run his hands over the rusting machinery, the cracked countertops, and let forth a heavy sigh. He never did find Keith or Dave or any of his friends.

The nights were quiet and spent at home, something Nick wasn't used to, but they had each other, and more often than not, Ellis was ready be thrown down on the bed and properly fucked. Or thrown down on the couch and properly fucked. Or the floor. Or the counter. Or the table. Pretty much every inch of the house was fucking territory. A couple months ago, they had done it against the hood of the car in the garage, an act that had given Ellis what he claimed to be the biggest orgasm of his young life. He was still talking about it.

"Ain't nothin' to eat!" Ellis bemoaned the bare cabinets before yanking open the refridgerator door, "Jesus, nothin' at all!"

"You just had donuts."

"Yeah, but them's jes' donuts. I want like, y'know, real food. Nick, you wanna go grocery shoppin' tomorra?"

"What the hell do I look like to you?" Nick muttered and lit a cigarette, flicking the lighter top back on before stuffing it into his jacket pocket, "a housewife?"

"Yeah, purty much," Ellis shrugged before snatching the cigarette from between Nick's lips and cramming it into the ashtray. Nick just stared at him.

"Kid, you better have a good as hell reason to have done that."

"I jes' don' think you need to be suckin' on that thing when y'could be suckin' on me..." the boy smirked sensually and pressed his lips lightly against Nick's. Nick chuckled into the kiss, his hands searching out the mechanic's strong back.

"Your dick doesn't give me a nicotine fix, Overalls," he stated and bit down hard on Ellis' lower lip. Ellis groaned and pulled Nick close against him.

"Yor hands, darlin'," he whispered, his eyes gleaming, "you ain't got 'em far 'nuff up my shirt yet."

"Oh? Well, I can do you one better," he pulled the mechanic's shirt off roughly and slid his hands all over Ellis' chest, hard and light, scratching and carressing, flicking his fingers over the erect nipples. All the while Ellis moaned and pressed against Nick.

Tonight, they actually made it to their bedroom.

"Shit, Nick, you shoulda seen it!!" Ellis exclaimed as they trodded down the cobblestoned street, "horses ev'rywhere! Pulling carriages an' whatnot, y'know? Big'uns, too, like Clydesdales and shit, I reckon. It was mostly show, I guess, fer tourists and whatnot? But, I dunno, there was jes' something' mighty comfortin' about seein' them big animals walkin' up and down the streets like they belonged there."

Nick was beginning to regret his choice to walk Ellis to work. But he'd go crazy if he were cooped up in that house for one more day. There had to be some kind of game in this half-dead hick town he could play, and he'd sure as hell find it, and win. Maybe he'd buy Ellis a new hat; his had survive the apocalypse, sure, but was quite the worse for wear.

"There was one horse, an' shit, I dunno what was wrong with the poor bastard, but his neck was real floppy. I mean, that shit ain't normal. You ever seen a floppy-necked horse? Jes' ain't right," Ellis jabbered on, then stopped as he reached the parking garage that served as a makeship auto shop. He smiled up at Nick and kissed his cheek gently, "I'll be back home soon."

Nick shrugged in a noncommital way and watched as the boy scampered off into the dimly lit passage.

The man popped his collar before continuing down the street. The sky was bright blue and alive with sunlight, reminded Nick of Ellis' eyes.

Baaaaw! Reviews are appreciated, thank you kindry!