He hadn't noticed it at first. It had slipped past him like smoke through his fingers; much too quick to linger on. To Nick, his first impression of Ellis was that he would only be a burden. That he was a Southern boy who found a bit too much enjoyment with blowing the heads off of what used to be healthy human beings. But, as time went on, he began to realize that although Ellis seemed like he was one layer deep when it came to personality, there wasn't something quite right.

None of the other survivors could see it. Rochelle and Coach, they were too preoccupied with saving themselves to pay attention to what was deeper within the country boy. But Nick… He began to obsess over it. He only survived until the end of the day so he could spend his nights watching Ellis. Watching those slightly boyish features fade from their cheerful façade to an expression of anguish. His first thought was that Ellis was actually afraid to die. That perhaps he was putting on a grand show of courage to impress the rest of the group. But that theory was shot down, quite literally, every time he saw the genuine excitement in Ellis's eyes when he got to kill another one.

And so, the days passed… They slowly made their way through the city and towards a dream of salvation. Later, Nick would question himself why he hadn't connected the dots sooner, considering how often Ellis openly displayed his pain. But he was no therapist and no one paid attention to the boy's stories anyway.

Ellis was sitting in the corner of the safe room, staring across the room at the writing on the wall. He had read the slightly shaky writing a thousand times over and yet it seemed to be new every time his eyes scanned the words. My name is Keith Marshall. I am going to die in this place.

It seemed surreal, to think that Keith would ever write something like that. In fact, it seemed surreal to think that he would ever die. After every stupid thing that had happened, Keith had begun to seem invincible. Like a god, of some kind. And yet, here was the proof. The only hope that was left inside of him, burning like a miniscule flame, ready to be blown out at any moment, was the lack of Keith. If Keith had actually died in this room, he would have still been here. Or at least, his body would have. But, the room was utterly free of corpses. Did Keith manage to leave? And even then, did he manage to make it to the next safe area?

For a moment, Ellis glanced down, closing his eyes as he clenched his fists. Even with the thin amount of skin covering his vision, he could see the words clearly burned into his memory. I am going to die. Would he ever be able to close his eyes again without being haunted by the truth?

It was one of those nights again. Where Rochelle and Coach were in the corner, slowly falling off to sleep as they chatted aimlessly. Where Nick had been voted to stay awake and listen for anything suspicious, as he literally felt his brain turn to nothing. Where Ellis… Well, normally Ellis would be attempting to talk to Nick by now.

Frowning a bit, the con-man straightened up from his seat, slowly leaning forward to glance to the corner of the room he couldn't see before. For a moment, he thought Ellis was sleeping, with his head buried in his knees. But after a few seconds of watching, he realized that he was silently sobbing. Prying his gaze away, Nick blinked a few times, overwhelmed by the surge of curiosity. Should he get Rochelle to check on him? He certainly wasn't about to go over and play therapist to a twenty-something mechanic who talked too much to begin with. But Rochelle was sleeping and unless there was a horde of zombies, he had been warned not to even think about waking her up. Geez, it was like Coach and him were the only men.

Risking a glance back to the Southerner, he sighed quietly to himself, almost hoping he had imagined the other male crying. But, to his dismay, Ellis was still hugging his knees to his chest, his shoulders quietly rising and falling with each sob. So, being the so very kind leader of the group that he was, he got off the crate he had been sitting on with a scowl and walked over, slowly descending to sit cross-legged on the ground.

As if Ellis had sensed another presence, his crying automatically stopped for a moment, as if he were gauging the sounds around him. After a few odd seconds of silence, he raised his head, gaze immediately finding Nick. He gave a small forced chuckle, his hand coming up to fiercely wipe at his eyes before he cleared his throat.

"Had somethin' in my eye," he said quietly, obviously attempting to sound nonchalant as he straightened up, putting his cap back on. There was silence between the two until Nick raised an eyebrow and shot him a 'don't think I'm that stupid because I'm not' look.

"Must have been something pretty big," Nick replied, his tone on the verge of teasing, though his expression wasn't as sarcastic as it normally was. If someone looked hard enough, they might almost see a bit of caring in his eyes.

Ellis laughed again, his eyes dropping to the floor, before his smile followed suit. "I 'spose it was," he replied, shrugging as his voice cracked, fighting the urge to cry. "'Ya know, lots 'a dust 'n stuff out here…"

Rolling his eyes, Nick wondered if Ellis actually thought he was stupid or if he was slightly deranged. Both seemed plausible. "Ellis. What's wrong? We can't have you pausing to wipe your eyes every moment when were fighting for our lives. So, you better get it off your chest." Okay, so perhaps it wasn't the most comforting way to help someone out but it was about as good as it would get when it came to Nick. Hell, he was surprised he had even come over here. Something about Ellis affected him in a weird way.

Finally glancing up from the dusty ground, Ellis nodded, seeming to accept that he should talk about what was bothering him. But, instead of saying anything, he lifted a hand and pointed towards the wall across from them, not wanting to read the words again. Following his finger, Nick scanned over the words, feeling more confused than before.

"You knew him?" He questioned, returning his gaze to the brown-haired boy sitting next to him. He knew he sounded insensitive, but Nick had forgotten what it felt like to care about losing someone. Too many people had been ripped from his life that it had become something simple for him. You found out about it, got over it and went on with your life.

For the first time since they had met, Ellis looked genuinely angry for a moment, his eyes widening as his eyebrows furrowed. "Knew 'im?" He demanded, his expression completely disgusted. "Nick, have you been listenin' to a word I been sayin'? Keith is my best friend, man. I've been through hell 'an back with that man…" He trailed off once more, his anger seeming to calm as he spoke about Keith once more.

Suddenly, Nick remembered the numerous amounts of times that Ellis had mentioned someone named Keith. Most of the time he was cut off before he could finish and he bet that no one had even listened to a single word of his stories. Not necessarily because they didn't care, just because it wasn't so fitting to hear about Keith fighting a bear while they were fighting zombies. (Okay, well, honestly Nick could care less about the other Southern hick but that wasn't the point.)

"Sorry, Ellis. It's just, it's hard to pay attention to those stories when we are saving our asses from being served to us," Nick replied with a sigh, pushing all his reservations aside to raise his hand and rest it on Ellis's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

As the mechanic's gaze drifted towards the hand, he blinked, silent for a few moments before he leant forward, wrapping his arms around the unsuspecting man's chest. Nick felt his eyes widen, though his hand automatically found itself resting on the small of Ellis's back.

"S'okay," he heard the faint Southern drawl, slightly muffled due to the fact the other male's face was pressed against his chest. "I jus'… Can' picture 'im dying, 'ya know? He was always so… awesome." Still silent, Nick nodded before he remembered that Ellis couldn't see him do that and replied with a simple agreement. "Yeah."

They fell into silence after that, with Ellis still keeping his arms wrapped around Nick's chest and Nick, for some unearthly reason, still keeping his hand resting on the curve of the mechanic's spine. It seemed surreal for Nick to even begin to think this would ever happen. He could feel Ellis's slow rhythm of breathing, his own slowly beginning to fall in time with the others. With a small movement, he rest against the wall, closing his eyes with a slight sigh.

Did it bother him that he felt comfortable here, sitting just like this? Did it unnerve him that he felt that forgotten feeling of something constricting his heart? He didn't know. All Nick knew for certain was that he hadn't felt as safe as he did now since the infection had broken out. Possibly even before that. It felt right, to have Ellis leaning against him. It felt right for his fingers to be slowly massaging the younger males back. But most of all, it felt perfect to know that Ellis had turned to him for comfort.

Lost in his thought, he hardly noticed as Ellis pulled away the slightest bit, enough to leave barely an inch of space between their faces. Feeling the slight caress of breath against his skin, Nick opened his eyes, surprised to see the familiar pair of hazel eyes staring straight into his own. There was silence for a moment before Ellis whispered, "Thank you, Nick. 'Ya know, you're not half bad."

For a second, Nick smirked, pleased to see that the Southerner still had a bit of his fire left. "You're still questionable," he replied, his sarcastic tone returning once more, all signs of a caring Nick thrown out the metaphorical window. To his surprise, however, Ellis's smile fell, leaving him with an incredibly intense stare. If he had been thinking, Nick was sure he would realize what was about to happen. But he was preoccupied with wondering how Ellis could possibly look intense in any situation.

So when Ellis shifted his body upwards the slightest bit and their lips connected, Nick had been caught off guard. It was a moment in life that seemed to last forever, dragging on in a perfectly suspended snare of time. The mechanic's lips were chapped, rough. But surprisingly soft. And never had Nick expected they would fit so perfectly against his own.

After an immeasurable amount of time, Nick pulled away, both of his hands resting on the sides of Ellis's jaw. They simply stared at each other for awhile, connected by a force stronger than the fear they had been feeling before – love. And eventually, as Ellis fell asleep against his chest, Nick came to the conclusion that he wouldn't let him die. After all, perhaps Ellis might start telling stories about his buddy Nick…