terabient: Anime-styled profile pic that is kinda, sorta like me (L4D2: Nick/Ellis - hands)
terabient ([personal profile] terabient) wrote2010-01-05 09:44 pm

ficlet: doctor doctor [Left 4 Dead 2]

today's writing offering: an unedited mess that doesn't really have a point! I BET YOU ARE EXCITED.

mostly posted to prove (to myself) that yes, i am writing something every day! feel free to disregard. ^^;

Title: doctor doctor
Fandom: Left 4 Dead 2
Pairing: kinda sorta Nick/Ellis. if you squint.
Rating: G
Words: 578
Summary: In which Nick is both a big ol' softy and super-hip-and-mysterious badass! (ok the last part is just implied.)
Notes: Uh uh uh, mostly me still trying to get used to the interaction between Nick and Ellis because I like, never write super cocky jackasses and/or happy-go-lucky, extroverted darlings with impossibly cute accents.

---

“Goddamn, Ellis, you've gotta watch the fuck out,” Nick snarled. His hands were cool and steady as he wrapped the bandage around Ellis' arm. “This is the second medpack you've gone through today, Jesus Christ.”

“Sorry, Nick,” Ellis said dutifully, turning his head slightly to hide the grin creeping over his face – because no matter how hard Nick tried to hide his concern, spouting off about “survival odds” and announcing his intent to leave at every possible opportunity, it never stopped him from turning into a freaking mother hen whenever Ellis got hurt. It was kind of adorable. “At least now we know ya can't kill a Witch with a grenade launcher!”

“I could've told you it wouldn't work. Actually, I did tell you. Loudly. Repeatedly.” Nick's grip on Ellis' arm grew tighter.

Ellis shrugged and gave Nick his biggest, sunniest smile. “Aw, c'mon, Nick. Don't get all sore about it.”

Nick just snorted, muttering something suspiciously like goddamn stupid hillbilly under his breath. He gave the bandage one last tug. “Alright, I'm done. This isn't too tight, is it?”

Ellis shook his head. “Nope, just right.” Which was true, and something that still surprised Ellis, a little. Out of all of all of them, Nick was the one most adept at treating injuries – Coach, with his mandatory first aid training, was alright, if a little rough; Rochelle understood the basics but was still a little clumsy; Ellis was a lost cause. Nick was the only one who had an intuitive sense of how bad a wound was, and what needed to be done about it.

“Hey, Nick.”

“What?”

“How'd you get so good at this first-aid thing?”

A faint, amused smile flickered over Nick's mouth. “Not too uncommon for a guy to get banged up, in my line of work,” he said. “You learn how to patch yourself up real fast.”

“'My line of work,'” Ellis repeated, unable to keep a note of excitement from creeping into his voice. Nick almost never talked about what he actually did for a living: the few hints he'd let fall led Ellis to believe his life had been some unimaginably awesome mash-up between every James Bond and (good) Nick Cage movie ever made. Ellis made no secret of his desire to hear something, anything, from Nick about his former life. “What kinda work would that be?”

Nick leaned in close to Ellis – close enough so that his lips brushed Ellis' ear when he spoke. Ellis shivered, and he wasn't sure if it was the touch of such soft, warm lips on his skin or just the fact that Nick was sharing something personal with him that caused it.

“My line of work...” Nick breathed, voice low and rough, and suddenly Ellis found it hard to breathe, “...isn't something a sweet little kid like you needs to know about.”

Ellis blinked rapidly as Nick pulled away, smirking. “Hey, I ain't -“

“We better get moving, Overalls,” Nick said, turning his back to Ellis.

Ellis watched him walk ahead for a moment, feeling elated and insulted and something like in love all at once. It felt as if something important had been exchanged between them, but he wasn't sure what it was.

“Ellis, come on!”

Ellis shrugged and took off after Nick. He'd figure the gambler out sometime.

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