


Playing Doctor

by LaylaBinx



Category: Zombieland
Genre: Hurt-Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-06-24
Packaged: 2013-04-23 14:50:13
Rating: T
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,227
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5660535/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1196439/LaylaBinx
Summary: Just a bunch of hurt/comfort drabbles I felt like playing around with :D Mostly Columbus/Tallahassee becuase they're just too cute together. Rated for Tallahassee's mouth :P





	1. Bee Stings

**Just an idea I wanted to play around with :D Hope you all like it!!**

**I own nothing!! =(**

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Today hadn't started off that great; actually, to be perfectly honest, it started off rather shitty as far as Columbus was concerned. For starters, the water heater decided to go out right as he decided to take his first hot shower in about four days, causing him to jump and damn near fall out of the tub before it was all over with. Squatting in an abandoned house had its perks but it also meant the same rules applied: if the house is designed for three people, make sure you're not the forth to take a shower.

After the bathroom fiasco, the light bulb above the staircase decided to go out right as Columbus was making his way down the stairs. He managed to stay upright for most of the journey but ended up tumbling down the last three and landing in an ungraceful heap at the bottom of the staircase. Little Rock found it hilarious, Columbus did not.

Tallahassee and Wichita were engaged in another war of words beside the front door, each one throwing insults at each other like they were hand grenades. Apparently, in their haste to get inside the night before and avoid the straggling zombies that had followed them since they got into town, someone had left the keys in the ignition all night and now the car was dead. Wichita had been driving but Tallahassee yelled at her to "leave the damn keys in the car and get in the fucking house" right before the first member of the undead party had its face smashed against the slamming door.

They'd managed to board up the windows and doors, preventing any easy entry, and fought off the attacking hoard. It was an easy kill to be honest, only five and most of them went down with only two shots (one to take them down, double tap to finish it). However, now they were without a vehicle unless they could find some jumper cables or a working car battery in the remains of the world.

There was a Firestone about a mile up the road, they'd passed it coming in the night before, and they figured it was the easiest solution other than simply hot wiring another car. They set out in groups of two, Little Rock and Columbus making their way up one side of the street while Wichita and Tallahassee covered them on the other side. It was a small town, less than one thousand people before the zombie apocalypse, now that number was even smaller. Various smears of graffiti had been sprayed across open brick walls, obvious signs of survivors, but they couldn't worry about that right now, they needed a car before they could concern themselves with anything like that. Besides, who knew how long ago those signs were made?

The Firestone was in the center of town, right across from a Burger King and a pharmacy. It was surreal that such a thing as a pharmacy was still standing in a world that was overrun with a zombie plague but Columbus kept the thought to himself. He brushed through an overgrown patch of bushes that lined the street, a sharp, stinging pain catching his ribs. He gasped, stopping suddenly and looking down.

"What's wrong?" Little Rock asked, her eyes narrowing on his face in concern.

It was small, no bigger than a dime, but God dammit it had to be a bee. Columbus sighed, already beginning to feel the tightness in his throat. "Nothing…let's keep going…" He struggled to keep his voice calm, trying desperately not to freak completely out about the sting. Fuck, of all the things that could have happened today-

There was a shot and shout behind them and both whipped around to see a handful of bloodied corpses running toward them. Of course.

Columbus turned and aimed at the closest one, his hands shaking as his vision blurred. He fired, catching the speeding zombie in the jaw and causing it to do a back flip and land with a satisfying crunch on the ground. Little Rock followed up with the final shot and another zombie went down a few feet away, its face exploding from a gunshot round from Wichita's gun.

It was hard to breathe, his throat burning and swelling with each passing second. There were at least two more zombies heading toward them and by the continued gunfire, it was obvious they weren't going down without a fight. He fired again, missing completely, and grabbed Little Rock's arm, dragging her into a run.

"What are you doing?!" She shrieked, firing behind her and taking out another one.

Columbus couldn't answer; that spiffy throat closing thing tended to prevent speaking. He just knew that standing there and not being able to shoot was going to get them both killed. He stumbled and landed heavily against the brick side of the Firestone building, his breath coming out in strained wheezing gasps.

Little Rock looked at him, her eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God…Columbus?! What's wrong?!"

He tried to answer, wanted to answer her but it was becoming increasingly harder to breathe. There was another shot fired and a heavy thud about five feet away from them. Voices echoed above him, Little Rock was shaking him desperately, her voice riddled with tears and panic.

"What the fuck happened?!" A gruff voice demanded from above them and rough hands grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him sharply. "Was he bit?!" The voice was concerned and angry, the second emotion probably trying to disguise panic as well.

"No he-" The voice faded and Columbus was beginning to fade with it. He could breathe, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and his body feeling heavy from the lack of oxygen. "…his side…he fell…won't answer…" The words were confused and rushed in his oxygen starved mind, and he was still vaguely aware of hands touching his face, neck, chest, shaking him frantically.

There was a sharp curse and the hands were gone, along with the voice and he felt himself floating, falling, succumbing to darkness all around him. Hell, if he had to chose a death in this fucked up world he guessed this one wasn't quite so bad. It was peaceful, he wasn't being eaten alive, he wasn't coming back from the dead, it was much better than the death he'd originally foreseen for himself. He felt bad about leaving the others though, it felt like such a cop out to be killed by a bee sting. Fucking allergies…

His eyes were forced open and he saw cloudy blue skies and dark rimmed eyes peering down at him. Wichita. She was saying something but he couldn't hear her, her voice was far away and muffled in the fog of his mind. Something wet hit his face, tears. Was she crying? Aww, don't cry…everything will be okay. Keep Little Rock safe and don't let Tallahassee do anything too reckless and-

There was a sudden sharp pain in his leg and a flood of almost instant relief as the muscles in his throat slowly began to relax. He took a heaving breath, never realizing how good it felt to breathe in general, and felt himself pulled into a tightly embrace.

"God dammit kid!" A voice growled from behind him. "The whole fuckin' world has gone to hell and you're going to get your ass taken out by a fuckin' bee?!" The voice was angry but the relief was obvious in the way the embrace tightened ever so slightly as Columbus managed to take a few more deep breaths.

He tried to sit up a little more, to let them know he was alright, but all he could do was breathe for the time being.

"Easy there, Rambo…no moving around just yet…" The voice said, a calloused hand raking through his hair in a surprisingly gentle manner. "Just sit still and let the drugs do their thing…"

Columbus managed to open his eyes again, his gaze falling on the worried face of Wichita and Little Rock. He gave them a weak smile and whispered "sorry" when he saw Little Rock's tears. She smiled through the tears and punched him in the arm, telling him that if he ever scared her like that again she'd leave him for zombie bait. Wichita seconded that idea and looked at Tallahassee. "How did you know…?" she asked, looking around carefully to make sure they were still safe.

"Buck had a peanut allergy…" The older man said simply, keeping Columbus pressed against his chest so he could feel him breathe. "I kept an epi-pen with me until he died. Figured the pharmacy over there would still have some…"

As much as he wanted to stay around for the continued conversation, exhaustion was winning out (lack of oxygen tends to do that) and Columbus found himself being pulled back into the arms of nothingness.

**OOOOO**

He came to slowly, unaware of where he was or even how he'd gotten there. He was in a bed, more specifically, the same bed he'd been in the night before. Apparently, they'd returned back to house while he was still unconscious, impressive as that was. He vaguely wondered if they'd gotten a battery for the car or not…

The TV was on downstairs (oddly enough, television still worked in Zombieland partially because there was no one around to shut off the power) and he could tell something was in the oven thanks to the smells that floated up the staircase.

Someone shifted beside him and Columbus blinked, rolling over to see Tallahassee staring down at him. "Feelin' any better?" The older man asked, watching the boy's face for any sign of lying.

Columbus nodded awkwardly, feeling a flush creep to his face at the close proximity of the older man. "Y-Yeah…I'm fine…"

Tallahassee nodded and leaned back against the headboard, making no movement to rise off the bed. "You scared the shit outta me today, kid…" He said quietly, almost as if the confession were a secret.

Columbus felt his face flush again and he looked down. "I'm sorry…having an insect allergy seemed like such a stupid thing in the wake of the end of the world so I guess I just didn't think about it…I haven't had an attack like that in years…"

Tallahassee nodded carefully, not saying anything for several minutes. "Well, to be sure it doesn't happen again…" He pulled a shopping bag full of epi-pens off the bedside table and dropped them on the bed. "We're keeping these with us at all times."

Columbus almost laughed. "Jesus, how many bees do you think are left in the world?"

"Enough to kill your dumb ass." The older man snapped, moving the bag off the bed and setting it on the ground. He hesitated for a second before continuing. "Look kid, I've become more attached to you than I'd like to admit and I'm not really keen on the idea of you dyin' anytime soon, got it?" There was a very faint redness to his cheeks as he spoke almost as if he were embarrassed by the admission.

Columbus felt himself smile for the first time all day and nodded. "I got it…" He reassured softly. "Thank you…for, you know, saving my life for like the 35th time…"

Tallahassee smirked and leaned down, pressing his lips to Columbus' in a quick, chaste kiss. "You're making it a habit." He muttered but there was no malice in his voice. He settled back against the headboard once more, keeping one arm looped behind the pillow beneath Columbus' head.

The younger man smiled again. True, the day had started off pretty shitty and only got worse from there, but in the end it was worth it.

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**So was it okay?? Let me know!! :D**


	2. Food Poisoning

**Hey guys!! So I know Columbus woud probably be much more health conscious than this but humor me =P Hope you all like it!! :D**

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Columbus groaned miserably, curling a little tighter onto his side and wrapping his arms protectively over his stomach. He took slow, shallow breaths, exhaling through clenched teeth and keeping his eyes squeezed shut tightly. His stomach lurched suddenly and gasped, gripping the sheet in a sweaty, wadded ball, trying desperately to fight off the waves of nausea that washed over him.

This had been going on for the better part of the night, the constant cramping and sickening flipping of his stomach making sleep all but impossible. He tried to keep quiet, not wanting to wake Wichita and Little Rock in the next room. Tallahassee was downstairs, keeping first watch so he didn't have to worry about him which was probably a blessing in disguise. The older zombie hunter was sort of bat-shit crazy on even the best days so there was no telling what kind of twisted remedy he had for stomach pains.

Liquid heat burned in Columbus' chest and he swallowed thickly, trying to keep the scorching bile from making its way past his throat. He swallowed again, silently praying to a God he was sure wasn't listening that he wouldn't throw up. Jesus, did he hate throwing up…it wrapped every horrible bodily function into one Chernobyl-esque physical meltdown. His mouth watered and he knew there was no stopping it.

Freeing himself of the tangled sheets, Columbus jumped smoothly out of the bed and made a mad dash to the bathroom, managing to be just silent enough to prevent waking the girls. He slid to a stop next to the toilet and retched violently, gagging and choking on the contents of his stomach. The muscles in his back coiled tightly, his chest constricting and his eyes watering as he continued to heave violently into the bowl. After a few minutes, he collapsed in exhaustion against the side wall, breathing heavily.

Seriously, of all the things to worry about in Zombieland, food poisoning had not been on the top of his list. He'd been feeling a little off for most of the day, every since they'd scavenged supplies at the grocery store back in St. Louis. Tallahassee had gone on his usual Twinkie search, Little Rock found a box of Lucky Charms and Wichita managed to find a jar of peanut butter and jelly and settled with that. Columbus found a container of yogurt and decided that would be the quickest and easiest thing to eat in the car. The expiration date said three months from then so it seemed safe enough. The cooler was broken (amazingly, there was still electricity in certain parts of Zombieland, St. Louis just didn't appear to be one of them) but the container felt cold enough to be non-lethal so he set aside his usual neurotic tendencies and settled on the yogurt. Not the best plan in retrospect…

His stomach flipped again and he gasped, sitting up on his knees and grasping the edges of the toilet in just enough time to avoid losing the remaining contents of his stomach on the floor. His shoulders trembled with exertion and he coughed raggedly, a horrible taste filling his mouth.

"Christ…" He gasped, keeping his eyes closed tightly.

A hand was placed in between his shoulder blades and Columbus jerked up, grabbing a discarded shampoo bottle and holding it above his head like a club.

Tallahassee chuckled softly, holding his hands up in surrender. "Easy there kid, the last thing I need is conditioner in my eyes."

Columbus rolled his eyes and dropped the bottle with a moan. "Its shampoo…" He corrected uselessly, falling back against the wall with a soft thud.

Tallahassee frowned at the grim pallor of the younger man and reached out to tentatively touch his face. When Columbus jerked away from the touch, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Would you stop acting like a Goddamn Chihuahua and relax? All that anxiety you keep bottled up is probably what led to all of this." He gestured vaguely toward the toilet with his hand and leveled his gaze with Columbus.

"Ngh…" Columbus protested, shaking his head slightly. "Not anxiety…bad yogurt…" He mumbled, turning and spitting into the bowl.

"Bad yogurt…?" The explanation seemed to escape Tallahassee and he frowned again. "Didn't think dairy went bad, I thought it just turned into other dairy products; you know, milk into cottage cheese, and all that." His ramble lasted a few more seconds before Columbus heaved again, spilling even more of his breakfast/lunch/dinner/whatever the hell that was into the toilet bowl. "Jesus kid…" The older man muttered, reached over and placing a comforting hand on Columbus' shoulder. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

Columbus heard the scuff of boots trek down the hallway and then nothing but silence. He strained his ears to listen but the more he tried the more he became aware of how tired he was. He flushed the toilet weakly with one hand and rested his head on his free arm, closing his eyes and trying to breathe through the nausea. He was hot, cold, up, down, and everything in between and Goddamn he was tired. Maybe now that everything was out of his stomach he could get some rest…

Something soft and heavy was wrapped around his shoulders and he jumped again out of instinct, looking up to see Tallahassee drape a quilt over his shoulders before kneeling down next to him. He had a bottle of water in one hand, a few pink tablets in the other and a pillow tucked under one arm. "Looks like you're going to be here for a while." He said simply, leaning back against the bathroom cabinet beneath the sink and dropping the pillow into his lap.

Columbus was too exhausted to protest or even question Tallahassee's behavior; it was strange but definitely not the strangest thing he'd seen in the past couple of months. Taking a steadying breath, he let go of the toilet bowl and fell back against the older man's legs. He took the offered water bottle gratefully and took a tentative sip, desperate to get the horrible taste out of his mouth. "What about guard duty…?" He asked softly, feeling himself relax into the pillow at his back as Tallahassee tossed a protective arm over his chest.

"Don't worry, these people had ADT…helluva lot of good that did em.' Besides, we're locked up tighter than a nun's underwear drawer." He chuckled softly at the grim joke and looked down. "Get some rest, kid. I ain't goin' anywhere…"

Columbus smiled weakly and nodded, snuggling a little deeper into the older man's chest and closing his eyes. Rough, calloused fingers gently carded their way through his hair and he could feel the nausea slowly beginning to abate. Food poisoning sucked but this certainly didn't.

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**Shameless flufff because I can't help it =P**


	3. Camp out

**Okay, so my computer went kinda wonky when I was trying to upload this so if there are some grammatical errors I apologize O.o Hope you like it!! :D**

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It had been a stupid decision, Tallahassee had to admit that. He was usually the last person to admit his mistakes but he was more than willing to accept the blame for this one. Camping, Jesus Christ, what did he think was going to happen?! It had started off innocently enough; he was tired of being in the car and even more tired of breaking into houses for shelter at night. He missed the stars, the feel if the November air on your skin early in the morning. A big rule about Zombieland: never stay outside longer than necessary unless you want to become someones lunch. Goddamn, he hated that rule.

They'd made it to Colorado earlier that morning and had decided to stop for the night in this run-down little ski town. Hell, he couldnt really say "run-down", it had probably been a thriving community before the zombie plague hit it. Still, the fact remained that it was deserted now and thats all that could be said.

They found a nice little cabin with the windows still intact near the edge of town, surrounded by trees on either side. Believe it or not, a forest was incredibly useful in Zombieland; more trees meant less people which also meant the zombies had very little interest in the area. Sure, there were a few here and there as they entered the town, but most went down with a few shots or a well-aimed door. For the most part, the town really was empty.

It was only after they'd settled in for the night that Tallahassee realized there was a little camping area about a mile down a trail behind the cabin. It was probably designed for the Spring season considering it was overgrown and covered in a thin layer of ice by now. Still, it didnt stop him from yearning for the feel of sleeping underneath the stars again.

It had taken a lot of convincing to get Columbus to agree to the idea. Little Rock agreed right away (she'd never been camping) and Wichita agreed after a few moments of consideration. Columbus was another matter entirely. He brought up the possibility of a freak snowstorm, or hypothermia, or even bears for Christsake. Bears, of all things to be worried about in a world overrun by zombies, the kid was worried about bears. Between the three of them theyd finally managed to convince him but he still didnt seem happy about it.

After staking out the camping area repeated for over two hours and deciding it was indeed zombie-free, Tallahassee grabbed a tent, some sleeping bags, and, of course, guns, and hauled them out to the site. In just under an hour hed set up a campsite that even a scout master would have been proud of.

The evening had started out nicely, they roasted marshmellows (which never, ever go bad), played charades, and talked about their lives before Zombieland; it was almost like things were back to the way they were before the plague. But nothing is ever that simple, not in this world.

The zombies had been attracted by the fire, which was small, just barely enough to light their faces, but they could smell the smoke and followed it back to the campsite. There was no telling how many of them there were, only that they appeared out of the trees like fucking wood nymphs. The group scattered, Wichita grabbing Little Rock by the hand and bolting back toward the cabin. Tallahassee grabbed the stick hed been poking the fire with and jabbed the flaming end into one zombies eye, grabbing Columbus by the arm and following the girls.

They shot, blindly in the dark, a few muffled falls hitting the ground after each round. They had just about made it back to the top of the path when Columbus decided to take a rather round-about detour and fall in a frozen creek. The zombie that had been trailing him didnt have enough time to stop and ended up impaling itself on a protruding tree branch. Tallahassee grabbed the kid by the arm again, jerked him up and continued to run.

They werent sure where the girls were or even if theyd made it out but the only thing that mattered now was getting to the truck. Tallahassee opened the door, practically throwing Columbus inside and sliding in next to him. One of the zombies slammed into the door hard enough to crack its skull the second the door closed. With a few carefully aimed shots, both men managed to take out the remaining hoard that came scrambling in from the trees. And then things were silent. For a long time, neither man moved, peering out into the darkness and waiting. When nothing else came, Columbus let out a long, slow breath.

"That was so fucking stupid." He breathed, his shoulders trembling with each word.

"Shh..." Tallahassee held up a finger and looked toward the cabin, listening carefully. He could faintly hear furniture being moved around, chairs pushed against doors and wood breaking and being propped against windows. After a little while, the curtain in the front window pulled back and Wichita and Little Rock peeked out, noticing them as well. Tallahassee let out a breath he hadnt realized hed been holding. The girls are alright.

Columbus took a bit of comfort in that but he was still too shaken to really appreciate that fact. "That was so fucking stupid." He muttered again, shaking his head. "So fucking stupid"

"Christ, I get it kid, I fucked up. You happy?" Tallahassee snapped over his shoulder. He wasnt too happy about nearly becoming a zombie snack either.

"No, Im not happy!" Columbus snapped back, gesturing wildly with his hands. "We nearly became fireside chow for a couple of fucking cannibals!" He was still shaking, the cold water doing nothing to help with that. "Jesus!"

Tallahassee ignored him and dug into one of the bags in the backseat. He pulled out a walkie-talkie (thank God for the inventor of these things) and flipped it on. "Hey Wichita, can you here me?"

Crackled static reached him for a few seconds and he forced himself to wait. He knew they had one in the cabin, hed seen it on the table. After a few more minutes, an answer crackled through. "Yeah, you guys alright?"

"We're fine. You?"

"Same." There was a pause and a brief laugh. "Little Rock said she doesn't want to go camping again anytime soon."

Tallahassee chuckled. "Dont worry, I think I learned from this little adventure." He glanced over at Columbus before continuing. "Ya'll just stay put, well come get you and get the hell outta here."

"Its okay. Look, its late, why dont we just stay here tonight and well leave first thing in the morning?"

Tallahassee hesitated before replying. "Alright, I guess. Do you want us to come in?"

Wichita laughed again. "I dont think you could even if you wanted to. We barricaded everything pretty hard."

The older man nodded even though should couldnt see. "You have guns?"

"Plenty. We have a full duffle bag in here."

"Good. Well, if you get into trouble..." He faded off, letting the silence speak for itself.

"You too." Wichita finished and the static faded out, leaving them in silence once more. Tallahassee sighed and switched off the walkie-talkie, turning to face Columbus. The younger man was curled against the window, arms wrapped around his knees, and staring outside at the empty streets.

"You alright?"

"'m fine.." He replied after a second, not looking at the older hunter.

"You still pissed?" The silence that greeted him was enough to answer that question. With another sigh, this one irritated, Tallahassee climbed over the front seat, turned the engine so the battery came on (always leave your keys in your car for a quick escape), and flipped on the radio. The stations were all out, obviously, but CD selection never hurt. He picked ACDC and slipped it in the disc drive, waiting until the music came on before relaxing into the seat and listening to the familiar guitar rifts echo through the speakers. He cleared his mind, let himself get lost in the music, and, just for a little while, forget everything else.

Nearly an hour had passed by the time the CD ended and flipped back to the first song. Tallahassee stretched, wincing as his back popped, and looked back to see Columbus still curled against the window. He hadnt said anything since the music started and he figured the younger man must have fallen asleep.

"You know, you can stretch out back there, itll be more comfortable." He commented half-heartedly, stretching his legs out in the front seat to prove a point. Upon still receiving no answer, he looked back with a scowl. Seriously, if the kid was still pissed at him this was getting old. "Hey, spit-fuck. You gunna answer me?"

Still nothing. Tallahassee muttered something unflattering under his breath and climbed back over the seat, landing next to him. "Alright kid, this is getting pretty fucking stupid if you're still-" He stopped, noticing something off about the way Columbus was sitting. The younger mans face was pale in the dim light and his breathing was shallow and uneven. Even in the darkness, Tallahassee could see his wet clothes still clinging to him like a second skin.

"Shit!" He muttered, sliding across the seat and gather Columbus in his arms. Columbus! Hey, kid! Answer me! He slapped the side of his face a little sharper than he meant to and was relieved when the younger mans eyes fluttered open.

"-the hell?" Came the weak response.

"Thank God..." He didn't waste time with formalities and simply began stripping Columbus down to nothing but his boxers.

"Wh'tre...you doin?" Columbus mumbled, his words slurred and hard to understand.

"Gettin' you warmed up." Tallahassee muttered back, reaching into the back part of the Hummer and grabbing a handful of blankets.

The shift of air across Columbus icy skin made him shiver. "Cold..." He mumbled, burying his face against Tallahassees shoulder.

"I know kid, but youll be a hell of a lot worse if you stay in those wet clothes." Shit, hed completely forgotten about Columbus taking a swan dive into the creek. He should have been paying more attentionthe kid damn near had hypothermia by now. He adjusted the blankets around the younger mans body, pulling him close and grimacing at his limpness. Keeping one blanket around his shoulders, he propped Columbus against his chest and wrapped another blanket around both of them, hoping to seal in the warmth that he desperately needed. He half expected the younger man to struggle or fight back or at least make some kind of aversion effort but he remained lax and unmoving against Tallahassees chest. That bothered him even more.

"Why didn't you change when we got in the car?" He snapped irritably, keeping his voice low to try and hide the concern in it.

"Didn...think about it..." Columbus mumbled back, shifting just slightly so he was a little more comfortable.

"Yeah, well not thinking about it could have killed your dumb ass." Tallahassee grumbled, all too aware of the icy skin pressed against him. "Goddamn, and I thought you were supposed to be the smart one in this group."

There was a weak chuckle followed by silence. After a few minutes, judging by how still and quiet hed gotten, Tallahassee figured Columbus had fallen asleep. Thats why he nearly jumped when he heard his voice. "'m sorry..."

"The hell are you sorry for?" He asked, looking down at the younger man still bundled against him.

"It was stupid...shouldn't have made you worry..."

Tallahassee let out a breath and shook his head. "Ah shit, kid. Im the one who should be apologizing. You're right, camping was a bad idea and it put all of us in danger. I should've listened to you."

Columbus smiled tiredly, his breathing becoming a little more regular. "Why start now?"

The older man just rolled his eyes and tightened his hold on the kid in front of him. Yeah, yeah He mumbled though he was relieved to feel some of the warmth returning to Columbus skin. Comfortable silence filled the cab of the Hummer and it wasnt long before both men were asleep.

**OOOOO**

The banging against the window early the next morning nearly had Tallahassee reaching for his gun until he realized it was Wichita. She and Little Rock had managed to break their way out of their reinforced cabin and were standing outside the drivers side door.

"Are we interrupting something?" Wichita called in, smirking at the sight of the two men bundled in the backseat.

Tallahassee started to say something rather unpleasant in reply but Columbus shifting against him and sitting up caused him to stop. "I may have to use you as a heater more often." He joked but there was a definite seriousness in his voice.

The older man flashed him a lopsided grin in return. "I'll take you up on that offer." Leaving the proposition at that, he unlocked the doors and climbed into the front seat, letting the girls get in.

"Don't feel like you have to stop on our account." Wichita teased, noticing the scowl on Tallahassees face and the crimson blush on Columbus.

"You know, I havent had target practice in a while." Tallahassee muttered, shooting a look her way. "Maybe you should be the target?"

Wichita simply rolled her eyes and Little Rock giggled in the backseat as the Hummer shifted into drive and pulled away from the tiny cabin. One thing was for sure, camping was not on the top of the list any more.

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**Hope you all liked it!! :D**


	4. Shower

**Hey guys!! Just another one-shot I felt like playing with. Hope you all like it!! :D And big thanks to Cooper Sterling for the awesome idea!! You're the best hon!! :D**

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Columbus sighed, tugging the mud and blood stained sweatshirt over his head and dropping it into a heap on the floor. His jeans were covered in the same combination and he was pretty sure the extent had soaked down to the skin. It had been a rough couple of days; the car breaking down in one of the more extensively zombie-populated towns they'd been to was definitely not part of the plan. It had taken nearly an entire day to find a car that would haul the four of them and their weapons without overcrowding and that had been while dodging the snapping jaws and clawing hands of the undead. And then it rained. Of course, it always rained when nothing else could get worse. So, checklist time: stiff, blackish-red zombie blood all over clothing and exposed skin? Check. Mud covering everything else? Check. Time for a shower.

Normally showers weren't that big of an issue, they took one when they found a house with a descent bathroom and its not like they had to worry about a lack of clothing; shopping sprees at Wal-Mart were easy when you didn't have to pay. Columbus had never wanted to be clean more in his entire life. He continued stripping out of his ruined clothes, a fresh pair already hanging on the shower rod. The girls had showered earlier and were downstairs keeping Tallahassee company. The last he'd checked, the older man was teaching Little Rock why they didn't talk about Fight Club. Not really vital information in Zombieland but interesting nonetheless.

The faucet groaned and shuddered as the water was turned on, a wisp of steam floating up from the drain as the hot water poured into the tub. Columbus switched on the shower and stripped the rest of his clothes, kicking them into the corner. His gun was resting next to the door just in case; the house was boarded up tighter than Fort Knox but you could never be too careful. With that thought in mind, he stepped under the spraying water.

The hot jets of water felt amazing, washing away days of grime and filth. The water circled the drain in a dirty trail, flecks of dried blood speckling the bottom of the tub like coffee grounds. He scrubbed at his skin, his face, his hair, trying to get rid of any lingering zombie gore. It wasn't uncommon for pieces to be left behind when they encountered the business end of a rifle. Finally feeling clean for the first time in days, Columbus turned off the shower, standing motionless in the steam for a few minutes.

Quiet moments like this were rare nowadays, running for your life on a daily basis tended to cut into relaxation. He took a deep breath, inhaling steam and exhaling slowly. Being with the others had definitely mellowed out some of his phobias but not all of them. Like being naked and vulnerable in the shower. Just like public bathrooms, showers had the potential to be deathtraps in Zombieland. As much as he enjoyed the shower, it was time to get dressed. He grabbed the boxers from the shower rod, sliding them on and absently brushing the towel over his hair a few times to take away the excess water. He could put the rest of the clothes on once he got out of the shower, but for now it felt better to be clad in something other than his birthday suit.

He slid the curtain open and gasped, coming face to face with Little Rock. The younger girl looked at him in surprise as well, a small yelp escaping her throat. Shocked and embarrassed that he was standing in nothing but his underwear in front of 12-year-old, he grabbed for the curtain once more, his foot sliding across the slick surface of the tub and sending him toppling over the edge. He groped blindly, trying to catch anything that would prevent his fall, but there was nothing. Something solid connected with his head and he heard a faint scream just as the world faded into white nothingness.

**OOOOO**

He didn't care what anyone said, there was no way you could not watch Fight Club enough. Tallahassee had seen this movie so many times he could quote it and it was still one of his favorites. The owners of the house they'd decided to camp out in had great taste in movies and killer plasma screen TV in the living room; perfect for one of the greatest movies ever made. Wichita was huddled in the chair across the living room, watching the movie with half-interest and glancing at an old magazine. Little Rock had been in the room as well (she'd never seen the movie and Tallahassee had taken it upon himself to rectify that atrocity) but she'd left to get something from upstairs. She'd only been gone a few minutes when they heard a stifled scream from the upstairs bathroom.

Jumping to their feet immediately, weapons in hand, the two raced up the stairs to the aid of the youngest. She was on her knees in the bathroom, frantically hovering over one of the other member of their group. "Oh my God, I broke Columbus!" Little Rock cried when she saw her sister and Tallahassee enter the room

"What the hell-?" Tallahassee said as his eyes fell on the sprawled young man in the bathroom. Columbus was only half-dressed, the majority of his clothes hanging from the shower rod. He was on the floor, tangled in the shower curtain, a small pool of blood forming beneath his head.

Wichita took up damage control as Tallahassee walked over to the unconscious young man. "Okay, slow down. What happened?"

"I-I came in to get a washcloth and he saw me and tried to cover up and he slipped. He hit his head on the sink when he fell." The younger girl babbled on, tears filling her eyes as she looked at his motionless form.

Tallahassee had blocked the other two out, his sole focus now on Columbus. "Can you hear me, kid?" He asked, leaning over the younger man and patting his cheek lightly. Upon receiving no answer, he hit a little harder, speaking louder. "Columbus! Hey spit-fuck, you gunna answer me or not?" In spite of the name-calling, he was worried. He'd become rather attached to the members of their little group and wasn't too happy with the idea of losing any of them. And head injuries were nothing to play around with. The shitty thing about Zombieland was there were no ambulances or hospitals, nothing but you and whatever you could MacGyver up to take care of an injury. He hoped like hell this wasn't something they couldn't handle.

"Is he alright?" Wichita asked, hugging her sister close. Her eyes were wide, searching for an answer she wasn't sure she wanted.

Tallahassee turned his attention back to Columbus, pressing his fingers to the younger man's throat gently. He could feel a steady pulse which more reassuring than anything else. The blood worried him though; how hard did he hit his head? Did he crack his skull? Break his neck? He'd taken a First Aid class when Buck was born (a shit ton of good that did him) but that was well over three years ago, he didn't remember most of that first responder bullshit.

Columbus' eyes fluttered slightly and he winced, a soft groan escaping his lips. His shoulders hunched slightly and he tried to curl in on himself in pain. "Ngh…"

"Hey, easy kid. You took a pretty good knock on the head, maybe you shouldn't be movin' around so much." Tallahassee cautioned, more relieved to see that the younger man was at least conscious.

"…the hell…?" Columbus muttered softly, trying to raise himself off the floor. A hand pressed against his shoulder, keeping him pinned to the floor, and he looked up in confusion. He could just make out Wichita and Little Rock over Tallahassee's shoulder and he was vaguely concerned why it looked like the youngest had been crying.

"-fingers?"

"Wha-…?" He blinked up again and saw a hand in front of his face holding up three fingers.

"How many fingers, kid?" Tallahassee asked again, waving his hand in front of Columbus' face.

"Ugh…three…" Words hurt. Blinking hurt. Everything hurt. He did a mental check, cautiously rolling his ankle and moving his fingers to make sure everything was still in working order. Something sharp pinched his foot and he jerked instinctively. "Ow…!"

"Good. You're not paralyzed." It sounded more like fact than an assertion but he was happy with it. Being paralyzed in a land overrun by zombies would suck. Still, his head hurt like a bitch.

"Can I please get off the floor…?" He asked, his voice sounding weak and pitiful in his ears. The way the room swayed in and out of focus may be an indication that that wasn't such a good plan. An arm snaked behind his shoulders, lifting him slowly and he felt a rush of vertigo so strong it nearly sent him reeling.

"You okay?" A deep voice asked next to his ear and he considered his answer for a few minutes. Finally, when he felt like his stomach had receded away from his throat, he nodded slowly. Something wet and sticky was smeared across the side of his head, matting his hair and trickling down past his ear. He felt like he was going to be sick again.

Something cold and wet was suddenly pressed over the area and he winced, gritting his teeth and turning away from the intrusive coldness. "Shh…" This voice was softer, the touch a bit gentler than the arm wrapped around his shoulders and keeping him upright. "Moving is going to make it worse."

Columbus opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the brightness of the room, and was thankful he was at least semi-dressed. With Tallahassee keeping him from falling over and Wichita hovering over him, being nude was definitely not an option. Little Rock suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, making his sway a bit. "I'm so sorry!" She mumbled into his shoulder. "I didn't know you were in here. God, I thought I killed you!"

Columbus smiled slightly and hugged back. "s'okay…" He muttered back, his mouth feeling like it was full of cotton. Yay for concussions. He'd had one once before, when he was ten and had fallen off his bike. It felt pretty much the same and it sucked just as bad.

"Well, I don't think you need stitches." Wichita said from beside him, gently probing the tender spot on the side of his head. Even gentle hurt and he fought a grimace as her finger brushed the gash. "But I'm pretty sure you have a concussion." She looked into his eyes for a second, glancing back and forth to gauge pupil reaction. "Yep, concussion."

He mumbled something, he wasn't sure what, and his head fell against Tallahassee's shoulder. All he wanted to do was sleep. "Come on kid, let's get you into the other room." The older man said next to him, keeping a tight hold around his shoulders. Very slowly, he stood, keeping Columbus pressed against his side so he was half-dragging, half-carrying him. With Wichita and Little Rock trailing behind, they made their way to one of the bedrooms in the upper portion of the house.

The room was a mess, clothes scattered all over the floor and junk heaped in the corner. There was bed though, that's all that mattered. Columbus felt himself shuffled across the room and lowered onto the bed, the warm arm never leaving his back. He couldn't keep his eyes open, it hurt and the room was spinning with a vengeance now.

"Do you think its okay to let him sleep?" Wichita (or was it Little Rock?) asked from somewhere far up above him. "What if he gets worse?"

"I'll stay with him and make sure he's alright." He was shifted slightly, his head pillowed against someone's leg. Jeans, the faint smell of gun powder and gasoline, he felt himself relax a bit. A calloused palm rested against his forehead lightly and he opened his eyes to slits, looking up.

"Tall-?"

"Shh. No talking. Go to sleep." The older man said, moving his hand down so it was covering his eyes. Columbus didn't have the energy to argue as consciousness faded away.

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**Aww, poor Columbus =P**


	5. May 23rd

**Okay, so this one is really short but I think it got its point across :D Hope you all like it!! :D**

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He had been quiet all day. It wasn't the brooding, pissed off kind of quiet; this was the lost and helpless kind. This was something the others had never seen, something they never wanted to see. It was unnerving and unsettling and worst of all, they knew what is was about. Worse still, there was no way to breach the subject without facing the resulting explosion. So they drove all day, one town fading into another in the rear view mirror, the miles blurring and the pavement disappearing beneath them.

A town came into view just after sunset, crumbled and destroyed like every other town on this miserable planet. Lights worked, water worked, because there was no one left to turn off the systems or say when to stop. Broken down cars lined the streets, broken windows in storefronts and mangled remains of lives no one was alive to live. Normally the isolation wasn't a big deal, a town without zombies crawling out of every corner was like paradise on earth. Today, the lack of people seemed intrusive.

They picked a house that looked at least semi-intact and went through the normal routine of boarding up the windows and barricading the doors before settling in for the night. Guns were strategically positioned in every room of the house in case of a breach, though it seemed unlikely. This town seemed dead in more ways than one.

The girls rummaged through the cabinets, picking through the contents to find something to make for dinner. Anything that didn't come out of box or a can would have been great but that wasn't really an option now. You worked with what you had. The other two were somewhere else in the house, securing windows and marking exits in case a quick escape was needed. And it was still quiet. It was too damn quiet.

Dinner came and went, the silence never really breaking other than a few words here and there. They tried to play a board game but it seemed cumbersome and mocking in a way. Eventually they settled on a movie. The sounds of Star Wars filled the living room and words were no longer needed.

At some point, one slipped from the living room and disappeared into a back portion of the house. The others pretended not to notice, but the awkward space left by the missing member weighed on them like a layer of lead. Finally, one of the others stood up and followed the trail, ending up on a porch at the back of the house.

It was warmer outside, the weather mild this time of year. It also helped that they were upstate and not down in the south, the heat would have been unbearable. There was a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the wooden porch, the glass resting against faded blue jeans and a bowie knife. He said nothing when he heard the other approaching, his shoulders hunched and eyes staring off into nothingness. The trees were bony and dead, grasping the air with sharp, mangled branches. There was a broken bike against the back fence and a dirty patch in the dried grassed that looked suspiciously like blood spatter.

There was a soft shift of wood as the other man dropped down beside him, legs dangling over the edge of the porch. Normally he would have been terrified by the idea of something grabbing him from underneath the brittle wood but the underside of the porch was cement so it seemed safe enough. He didn't say anything for a long time, there was nothing to say. There were no words to make anything alright anymore.

The whiskey bottle was lifted again, a long, wincing swallow taken from the contents before it was offered to his companion. The other man shook his head politely, eying him carefully with a mixture of concern and the desire to offer some form of comfort but not knowing how. He opened his mouth to say something, shut it, opened it again, and finally shut it. It was hopeless. Instead, they sat in each other's company for a long time, long into the night, neither saying anything. The bottle was almost empty before either said anything.

"He would have been four today." The older man commented brokenly, his voice wavering slightly. His eyes were red from tears he didn't want to fall and his shoulders were hunched even further. He wanted to curl in of himself and forget the world and everything in it.

Not sure what else to say, the younger man nodded slightly and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know." Columbus said quietly, knowing he wouldn't be leaving the older man's side for a while. "I know..."

* * *

**Just wanted to try messing with Tallahassee for once :P Take care!!**


	6. Rule 33

**Hello all!! Okay, so this is actually the first part of a two-part one-shot (weird, I know lol) This idea came from the wonderful Cooper Sterling, who was kind enough to offer me all kinds of great ideas to play around with in these one shots!! Thanks sweetie!! :D Hope you all like it!!**

* * *

Columbus figured it was time to add a new rule. Rule #33: Don't let injuries go unnoticed, no matter how small. This rule seemed pretty self-explanatory, but, like most rules that fall into that category, it had been created because someone neglected to take care of themselves. That someone in question happened to be him in this case.

It was a freak accident to be honest, one that could have happened to anyone in their group, but he had been the one sitting in the back of the Hummer when they rammed through the metal fence so he was the lucky one to end up with a pair of garden shears in the leg. At the time, he'd been too worried about the pack of zombies literally hanging onto their bumper to really notice that the sharp, rusted metal had pierced his jeans and sliced into his leg, right above his knee. Sure, it hurt, but staying alive was a bit more important at the moment. He fired another round, taking out two of the zombies hanging on the back of the car, ignoring the sticky blood that was now beginning to soak his leg.

Little Rock was leaning out the back window, firing behind them, her sister on the other side doing the same thing. Tallahassee was in the front, taking corners uncomfortably fast in an attempt to shake some of the undead loose. They had swarmed the car like moths to a flame and it was damn hard to shake them off once they held on. The fence had come in handy, it ripped some of the stragglers clean off, decomposing body parts and limbs littering the road behind them. He thought he heard Columbus gasp in the back and looked in the rear-view mirror. "You okay?" He called over one shoulder, taking another sharp turn and running over one of the zombies.

"Yeah." Columbus called back, his voice tight and sharp, both from pain and from the effort of keeping any of the creatures from slipping into the back with him. He fired a few more rounds, taking out the ones Little Rock and Wichita missed. Before long, the rest had fallen behind, still screeching and making the horrible guttural noises of someone who no longer remembers how to speak. His leg was throbbing, blood saturating his jeans in long crimson streaks, and he winced. "Let's get the hell out of here."

**OOOOO**

That had been two days ago and now the idea of adding that rule was starting to sound better and better. He'd managed to clean the wound once they found a place to settle in for the night and the threat of being eaten wasn't quite so prominent. It wasn't a deep wound, more of a gash, just deep enough to bleed freely and hurt like a son of a bitch. He didn't have to worry about contracting the Z virus from the shears either, which was a plus; Tallahassee believed in a one-use weapon method. Anything he used for zombie carnage (except for the guns) was a one-use kind of thing: gardening tools, saws, silverware (yes, silverware) and anything else was fair game but it was only used once. The most recent pair of gardening shears had come from a house the day before so Columbus knew they were clean, er, clean enough. They were rusty, probably covered in dirt and anything else that could picked up in a garden (like pesticides), but at least he didn't have to worry about turning into a fucked up cannibal. He'd scrubbed the wound with peroxide and wrapped it as best he could and simply left it at that, figuring his body would take care of the rest. It didn't.

Two days after the initial injury, the skin around the wound had turned raw and red, swelling and throbbing with every step he took. He kept it covered, hoping that if he didn't look at it it wouldn't be so bad. To be honest, he wasn't sure why he hadn't told the others about the injury. Probably because it would have started a fight somewhere down the line about carelessness and sitting on gardening equipment. Also, it would fuel the belief that he was the weakest member of the group, the one who constantly needed protection and could barely handle himself even in the best situations; something he was sick of adding to. So he kept quiet about the wound and pretended like everything was fine. He'd gotten good at hiding the limp by this point.

Not quite good enough though. Little Rock noticed the way he favored his right leg as he was walking down the stairs that morning. "What's wrong with your leg?" She asked, nodding to the way he stepped lightly on that side whenever he had to.

"It's nothing." He lied, shrugging it off with a slight smile. "I think my foot's asleep."

She eyed him for a few more minutes, obviously not sure whether to believe him or not. Finally, she sighed and nodded, walking into the kitchen to meet the others and pack what they needed to get back on the road.

Columbus winced inwardly, clenching his teeth as he made it down the final couple of stairs. He felt hot, even though it was cold in the house, and his stomach was doing odd flips every time he took a breath. His hands were shaking on the banister and he had to grip it tightly to keep from toppling into the living room once he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Wichita passed by, her arms full of clothes and canned food. She dropped them into a backpack and looked up, frowning when she saw him. "You okay? You look kinda pale..."

Columbus nodded and gave her the same smile he'd given Little Rock. "Yeah, just not awake yet I guess."

She nodded and tossed him a backpack. "Well, see if you can find some clothes upstairs to take with us. We probably won't stop again until sometime tomorrow; we're trying to make it to New York by Thursday."

It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to whimper at the thought of going back up the stairs again. Sucking it up, he slung the backpack over his shoulder and started up the stairs once more, wondering why the hell he even decided to sleep upstairs anyway. He'd taken first watch the night before and, judging by the shooting pains in his leg, he probably would have been better sleeping downstairs instead of going up to the bedrooms.

His foot caught on the edge of one of the stairs, his knee bending suddenly and sending a wave of agony shooting through him. He could feel the barely formed scabs split, fresh blood accompanying the white hot pain that pulsed through his leg. He gasped, bracing himself against the wall to keep from falling. His head was spinning, breath coming in short, ragged pants, and he honestly felt like emptying the contents of his stomach on the staircase right then and there.

"Come on, spit-fuck!" Tallahassee called from somewhere downstairs. "We gotta get a move on!"

Columbus sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing the nausea and straightening. "Coming..." He called back down, his voice sounding weak and shaky in his ears. Forcing himself upright, he hobbled up the last couple of stairs and limped his way down the hall into one of the bedrooms. He didn't look at what he was grabbing from the closet, he was in way too much pain to care. He stuffed as many pairs of clothes as he could into the backpack and limped back out of the room. The stairs loomed in front of him once more and he once again cursed his shitty luck. Today was not starting off well.

**OOOOO**

After conquering the stairs for the second time that day and tossing everything in the back of the Hummer, Columbus found himself biting back a constant grimace in the backseat. He was pretty sure if he looked as bad as he felt, the others would shoot him thinking he'd somehow contracted the Z virus. The pain was making him physically sick, his whole body trembling every once in a while. If anyone else noticed, the didn't let on to it. He swallowed again, fighting back another wave of nausea, and closing his eyes. He felt awful, in every sense of the word, and the swaying of the Hummer wasn't doing much to remedy any of that.

They'd been driving for nearly three hours, taking back roads to avoid the cluttered yet abandoned highways. At first it was odd to see all of the cars just randomly stopped in the middle of the road, their doors flung open, windows shattered, but after a few weeks, it became more of common sight. Now, they barely even noticed it. However, crowded highways, while devoid of human life, presented a problem in case a quick retreat was necessary. So they stuck to the back roads, watching as the ruins of the countryside passed by out the windows.

Columbus rested his head against the window, the glass amazingly cool against his too hot skin. He blinked slowly, one hand tangling in his jacket as another stab of pain shot through his leg. He grit his teeth, holding his breath tight for a second and waiting for the pain to pass. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a road side displaying the next town was only 15 miles away. "Can we stop in the next town?" He asked, forcing his voice to sound even and controlled.

"Why?" Tallahassee asked, glancing into the backseat from the rear view mirror. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Columbus lied, sitting up a bit straighter. "Just need to stretch my legs." Honestly, that was the last thing he wanted to do but if he didn't do something the gnawing pain was going to drive him insane.

Wichita frowned and looked at him. "Jeez...you look like shit..." She muttered, taking in the paleness of his features and the light sheen of sweat that covered his face. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Columbus nodded a little, smiling at her. "Just getting a little car sick." He lied again, hoping it would settle the question. Wichita didn't appear convinced but she let it slide. Little Rock gave him the same look she'd given him that morning, once that nearly matched her sister's but she didn't say anything either. Columbus was thankful for that; he really didn't feel like a lecture right now. All he was focused on at the time being was making it to the next town.

After a few more minutes, they pulled into an empty grocery store parking lot. The windows had been broken, groceries strewn out into the sidewalks, and a few shopping carts were overturned in the parking lot. Tallahassee was still one his Twinkie hunt so there was no better place to look than a grocery store.

They all piled out of the Hummer, weapons loaded and walked inside. It was quiet and dark, a few emergency lights flickering half-heartedly as they walked in. They split into two groups, the girls on one side, guys on the other, searching the store for usable supplies and simply to get out of the car for a while.

Columbus struggled to hide the limp as he followed Tallahassee down the snack aisle. The girls may not have said anything but he was pretty sure the older hunter wouldn't let it go so easily.

"Fuck me!" The man in question growled upon not seeing the box he was looking for. "We've checked every fucking store from Tulsa to Tuscon and we still can't find a Goddamn box of Twinkies?!"

Columbus was about to say something when the shelves exploded behind him, a half-rotted arm grabbing for him. There was a terrible screech as the zombie announced its presence to the rest of the store. Columbus staggered back into Tallahassee's arms, the older man jerking him behind him and firing at the flailing arm. The limb exploded from the buckshot and another screech erupted in the store. A split second later, another one appeared at the end of the aisle, running at them like a charging bull. Columbus fired, catching it in the chest and then following it with a round to the head. Before he could really process what was happening, Tallahassee grabbed him by the arm and took off down the aisles.

Each step caused a fresh wave of agony to shoot through his leg and he nearly fell several times; had it not been for Tallahassee's grip on his wrist he was sure he would have. He could see Wichita and Little Rock bolt out the front door, diving into the Hummer and yelling for them to hurry. They were nearly to the door when another zombie appeared out of nowhere, halting them in their tracks.

Without a second thought, Tallahassee shoved Columbus over one of the checkout counters and fired at the zombie. Columbus landed heavily, right on his knees, and the wound broke open again. Searing pain, like he's been stabbed with a burning knife, scorched through his leg, knocking him off balance and against the wall. Blood coated his jeans, hot and wet against his fevered skin. He felt sick again, dizzy and weak, and figured this was going to be a really shitty way to die if it came down to it.

The zombie landed with a thud a few feet away from him and Tallahassee appeared beside him. "Come kid, we gotta go." He leaned down to grab Columbus' arm but stopped when he noticed the blood on his knee. "Ah fuck...you didn't get bit did you?!" He demanded, dropping down to one knee and pulling out a pocket knife, slicing through the thick denim like it was paper.

"No..." Columbus gasped, unable to keep his voice from trembling. "It happened a few days ago...the wound just reopened..."

Tallahassee made quick work of the rest of the denim, splitting up to the kid's knee and taking in the damage. "Jesus fucking Christ kid..." He breathed. The bandage was completely soaked by this point, the wound angry and raw. Columbus' knee was swollen, the surrounding skin red and hot, clearly infected. He touched the jagged edges of the wound gently and Columbus gasped. "Where the hell did this come from?!" He demanded, looking him in the eye.

"Garden shears..." Columbus mumbled, struggling to control his breathing. He was dizzy again, the room spinning fitfully around him. He was trembling, he was sure of it, and everything hurt like he'd been run over by the Hummer a couple of times.

"Fuck! Why didn't you say something, you idiot?!" Tallahassee growled, grabbing Columbus by the shoulders and shaking him roughly. The kid was shaking, he could feel the heat radiating off of him like a furnace. "Why did you let it get this bad?!"

"Didn't want you guys...to worry..." The words sounded strange and far away, almost like he wasn't saying them and he felt himself sway a bit to the side. Something caught him, and iron-like bar around his shoulders and he was being shaken again.

"Shit! Hey! Come on, kid! No sleeping!" Tallahassee snapped, shaking the barely conscious young man in his arms. He slapped him, hard, across the face, hoping to gain some kind of reaction but was disappointed to see the kid only blink wearily up at him. He was hot, too hot, the fever burning through his skin like a living flame. This was not good. He shook him again. "Come on, spit-fuck! Wake up!"

"S-sorry..." Columbus mumbled before his eyes slipped closed and final time and stayed closed. He was too tired to answer as Tallahassee continued to call his name. Voices faded, lights dimmed, and he fell into darkness.

"Columbus!"

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**There's another part!! I swear!! I could never kill Columbus, I would cry for weeks!! I'll update as soon as I can!! :D**


	7. Rule 33 Part 2

**Yay!! Part 2!! Hope you guys enjoy!! :D**

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Wichita's eyes widened when she saw Tallahassee run out of the grocery store, Columbus slumped over one shoulder. What was worse, the younger man appeared to be unconscious. "What the hell happened?!" She cried as the back door was flung open and Tallahassee swung in, dragging the limp young man with him.

"Just drive." He all but growled, slamming the door closed behind him and gathering Columbus in his lap.

Wichita didn't argue, she simply gunned the ignition, threw the Hummer into drive and sped out of the parking lot. Once the grocery store had faded in the rear-view mirror, she looked back, her eyes narrowing on the older man. "You wanna tell me what's going?" She demanded, glancing back between the road and him. Her eyes fell on Columbus once again, a nervous flutter rising in her stomach. They all knew the dangers of Zombieland and they all had the same rule: if you got bit, you were toast. No if ands or buts about it. There was an unspoken agreement with all of them, someone would always be there to pull the trigger. She just hoped it wouldn't happen today.

Tallahassee looked up from the unconscious young man in his lap to meet her nervous gaze in the mirror. "He didn't get bit." He said simply, alleviating that concern instantly. Little Rock sighed in relief and Wichita let out a breath as well. Columbus was trembling slightly, his eyes closed and face relaxed, almost as if he were sleeping. If it weren't for the raging fever that was causing him to shake, Tallahassee would have almost been able to convince himself that the kid was fine. Blood was dripping off the seat beneath his knee, staining the carpet dark and leaving crimson rivulets on the leather.

"So what happened?" Little Rock asked, her eyes never leaving Columbus' shivering form. She chewed on her lip, a nervous habit she'd developed since Pacific Playland and had never managed to get rid of.

"Dumb-fuck here got hurt a few days ago and didn't tell anyone! Now he's got an infection." Tallahassee growled, his eyes falling on the angry wound above Columbus' knee.

"What?!" Wichita snapped from the front. "He didn't tell us?! Why?!"

"Fuck if I know." Tallahassee snapped back. Despite his gruff tone and outward irritation, he was worried. A drawback of Zombieland was there were no hospitals, no ambulances, nothing to help when you needed it. He frowned, looking down at the shivering ex-college student again. He was sweating, hair damp and clinging to his pale face. Dark, bruise-like circles had formed under his eyes and he was breathing rapidly. "Find a drug store."

"What?"

"A drug store. A Pharmacy. A fucking walk-in clinic, I don't care! Just find something!" He growled, shrugging out of his jacket and tucking it around Columbus.

Wichita didn't say anything and simply drove deeper into the town. Normally she would have snapped back at him, cursed or something along those lines, she and Tallahassee had never exactly seen eye-to-eye. But this was different; one of their own was hurt and in need of medical attention so she let the attitude she normally reserved specifically for the older man go and drove faster.

They found an abandoned Walgreen's a few blocks up the road and pulled in, parking directly in front of the door. Tallahassee slid out in front of the doorway, keeping Columbus laying across the seat. He grabbed a gun from the back of the car, cocking it absently. "What him." He said just before he closed the door and walked into the darkened building.

While Wichita kept an eye on the door, Little Rock slid into the back seat, sitting on her knees next to Columbus. He was still shivering, completely unresponsive due to the fever that raged through him. Rummaging around under the seat, she found a wad of napkins that had been there for God-knows how long. Folding them, she dabbed at his face carefully, gently wiping away the sheen of sweat that coated his skin.

Suddenly, Columbus' hand swung out, catching her wrist in a surprisingly tight grip. He struggled, pushing her away with a gasp and swinging wildly at anything around him.

Little Rock yelped, pulled away by her sister just in time to avoid being hit in the face by a flailing arm. "What's happening to him?!" She cried, her voice shrill with panic.

"It's the fever!" Wichita said, hopping over the seat and landing on the floorboards next to Columbus. She caught his arms and pinned them to the seat, nearly sitting on top of him to keep him still. "He's hallucinating!" She gasped, tightening her hold a bit as he thrashed more violently.

The back door was jerked open and she looked back to see Tallahassee climb back into the Hummer, his eyes widening a bit at the scene. "What the fuck-?"

One of Columbus' arms got loose, smacking Wichita across the side of the head. She winced, reminding herself to repay the favor later when he was better, and grabbed his arm again. "He's hallucinating...!" She said again, trying desperately to keep the younger man from getting loose again.

Tallahassee didn't say anything, he was busy with something else. "Hold him still." He said, crawling in beside her.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?!" She grumbled, dodging a leg.

Once again, the older man didn't answer, he simply grabbed One of Columbus' arms and locked it against his side. Pulling a glass bottle out of his pocket and an unopened syringe, he ripped open the package and inserted the tip into the top of the bottle. He measured an amount of the contents into the syringe and then shoved the needle into the crook of Columbus' arm.

Feeling the pinch of the needle, Columbus began to struggle even more, his eyes squeezed closed and teeth clenched. "N-No...! Get off...!" He cried weakly, struggling with every ounce of strength he had.

Grabbing the kid from under Wichita, Tallahassee wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly to his chest. "Hey! Columbus!" He called, keeping the struggling young man pressed against him tightly. "Jesus, kid! Calm down!"

As if hearing his voice through the fever driven panic, Columbus stilled, his muscles tight like a spring. "Tall...?" He gasped, glassy, unfocused eyes opening slightly.

"Yeah, kid, it's me." The older man said, his voice softening a bit. "I gotcha. You're safe..."

"I'm...?" Columbus started, struggling just slightly once more before he relaxed against Tallahassee's chest. He blinked a few times, fighting to stay conscious, but the fever was quickly winning that battle. Unable to fight it anymore, he slumped against the warm body behind him and fell into the swirling darkness again.

Once Columbus had stopped struggling and slipped back into unconsciousness, Wichita let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "What did you give him?" She asked, looking at Tallahassee and the empty syring on the seat.

Tallahassee wasn't looking at her, his eyes were glued on the limp young man in his lap. "Penicillan. My ex-wife worked in a pharmacy so I know my way around the medicine cabinet." With careful, gentle fingers, he brushed the damp hair away from Columbus' face. He could feel the younger man's heart pounding against his arms, the rhythm fast and uneven. The infection was taking its toll on him. "We need to find a place to stop for the night."

**OOOOO**

The house was small, most of the windows broken and glass littering the front yard, but it didn't matter. They hadn't seen any zombies on this entire block so it seemed like a perfect place to stop. They went through the process of boarding up the windows and any other entrance a zombie could come through and then turned their attention back to the injured member of their group.

With Wichita's help, Tallahassee managed to get Columbus into one of the back bedrooms and laid him out on the bed. While she stepped out to retrieve the bag of bandages and supplies he'd swiped from the drug store, Tallahassee went to work on removing the rest of Columbus' clothes. One pants leg was already shredded so he continued the trend, slicing through the thick denim with his pocket knife and peeling the fabric away from the younger man's body. He left him in his boxers to preserve some sense of modesty but the shirt was removed in a similar fashion as the pants, the ruined clothes falling to the floor in a messy heap.

Columbus had stopped shivering but it didn't do anything to ease Tallahassee's concerns. He was still unconscious and his skin was still flushed with fever, his cheeks scarlet and burning in contrast to the paleness of the rest of his skin. The wound on his leg looked terrible, the broken skin raised and and swollen. Fresh and dried blood clung to the wound, giving it an even more garish appearance. Tallahassee hissed between his teeth and looked at the unconscious young man. "Jesus Christ kid, you can't do anything halfway can you?"

"I don't think "half-way" is in his vocabulary." Wichita sighed, walking in and setting an armful of supplies and bowl of water with a washcloth on the beside table. She winced when she saw the wound, letting out a slow breath. "Do you want some help?" She asked, knowing the answer even before the older man answered.

"No, I got him."

She nodded, standing slowly and making her way toward the door. She wasn't offended, it was just a fact; Little Rock was her territory and Columbus was Tallahassee's. It was an unspoken rule but it was enforced through their actions: as long as Tallahassee was around, no one touched Columbus.

Once the door closed, Tallahassee began sifting through the supplies on the table, sorting out the things he needed at the moment. He grabbed the washcloth from the bowl, wringing it out and using it to wipe away the blood from the injury. He dipped it back in the bowl, the water turning a dull pinkish color as he rinsed it. The wound still looked awful but without all the blood around it, it looked slightly better. It was deep though and was going to need stitches. With a sigh, Tallahassee looked at Columbus, brushing the hair away from his face gently. "Sorry kiddo, this is going to hurt..."

He found a packaged suture set in the the heap of supplies and opened it, taking a deep breath to steady himself for the work he was going to have to do. He'd had stitches before, he'd watched people get stitches before, but he's never done them himself. Taking another deep breath, he steadied his hand on Columbus' uninjured leg and whispered another apology.

He worked a quickly and carefully as he could, noticing the way Columbus shifted and whimpered each time the needle passed through his skin. Tallahassee mumbled soft words of encouragement, shushing and comforting him as best he could. Occasionally he stop, reaching up to rest his hand against the younger man's face, calloused thumb brushing over a flushed cheekbone. He said the kid's name, his real name, the one he'd only heard once in the entire time they'd been together, and the younger man relaxed, the pain lines smoothing a bit from his face. Tallahassee kept his voice soft, a tone he couldn't remember using for anyone other than Buck, and finished the last stitch. They were uneven and a bit sloppy but it was better than letting the wound stay open. "All done." He mumbled, though he was pretty sure Columbus wasn't conscious enough to hear it.

He cleaned the wound with peroxide and wrapped it tightly; the last thing the kid needed was a secondary infection. Moving the unused supplies out of the way, he crawled onto the bed next to him, pulling Columbus into his lap and gently dabbing his face with the washcloth. The fabric was an odd reddish color thanks to the blood but he didn't care, all he was worried about was getting Columbus' fever down.

The younger man shifted restlessly against his shoulder and he shushed him softly, letting one hand drag through the sweat-damp hair. Columbus stilled once more, his body melting into the older man's chest with a soft breath. Tallahassee kept up his ministrations, dragging the damp cloth over the kid's face and neck, down to his chest and over his arms. Moving his hand away from his hair, he let his fingers travel down, resting against Columbus' neck for a second. The younger man's pulse was still a little too fast for his liking but he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger so he let it go. With a soft sigh, Tallahassee leaned back against the headboard and blinked up at the ceiling. "It's a full time job takin' care of you, you know?" He said to no one in particular though, truth be told, he wouldn't have it any other way.

**OOOOO**

Columbus came to slowly, fighting his way through the murky darkness of unconsciousness and blinking slowly. He felt drained, like he'd just run a marathon, and his whole body hurt. He frowned slightly, trying to piece together the events of the past few...hours? Days? Jesus, how long had he been out?

He tried to sit up but stopped when he noticed an arm wrapped around his chest like an iron bar, holding him still. "Sorry kid, you're not moving until I say so." A deep voice grumbled from behind him. To anyone else, it might have been terrifying but to him, it was like coming home.

Columbus leaned back, turning his head to see Tallahassee looking down at him. The older man didn't smile but the relief was evident in his voice. "Welcome back."

The younger man frowned, still unsure of what had happened to land him in this position. He was mostly naked, save for the flimsy boxers clinging to his hips, and he was pressed against Tallahassee like he had Velcro taped to his back. Granted, this wasn't the most intimate position he'd ever been in with the older zombie hunter, but it was close. "What happened?" He asked, frowning at how weak his voice sounded in his ears.

"What happened was you didn't tell us about an injury and it got infected." Tallahassee growled next to him and Columbus felt himself shrink back ever so slightly. "By the time we figured out about it, you were about a handful of white blood cells away from blood poisoning." He sounded angry but the grip he had on the younger man was gentle. "Mind tellin' me why you didn't say anything?"

Columbus was silent for a second, letting the words sink in. He didn't think the wound was that bad, at least not that he could remember. His knee throbbed as if to remind him and he winced slightly, biting his lip. The last thing he was remembered was being in the grocery store and running from the zombies and then-

"I have all night kid."

He swallowed, blinking up to the dark ceiling. "I didn't think it was a big deal." He mumbled honestly.

"A big deal?!" Tallahassee snapped incredulously from behind him. "News flash dip-shit! You were running a fever that could have fried an egg! Your heart rate got up to 140 at one point! Trust me, I kept count!" The older man growled irritably. "It was a pretty big fucking deal!"

Columbus winced a bit and shrunk back again. "I'm sorry...its just..."

"Just what?" Tallahassee snapped. He wasn't trying to sound as angry as he did but he'd been worried sick about the kid and he didn't like that feeling; it pissed him off.

"I didn't want to worry you guy or make you think I was weak..." The ex-college student looked down again, trying to ignore the older man's intense gaze. "When I was younger and got sick or hurt, I never told my parents because I knew they wouldn't do anything. They were agoraphobic, shut-ins who wouldn't go outside even if their house was on fire. They didn't trust doctors or hospitals or anything so anytime there was something wrong with me I just had to deal with it on my own. Its always been that way..."

There was a long silence, a tension that filled the room like nothing he'd ever felt, but finally Tallahassee sighed behind him. "Listen kid, I don't know much about your parents or your life before this, but things have changed. The whole fucking world has gone to hell in a hand-basket and right now we're the only ones left. You can tell us when you're hurt, sick, whatever; the point is you don't have to go through this alone anymore. We're all in this together, kid."

Columbus nodded slightly, suddenly upset with himself for putting the others through this. "I'm sorry..." He whispered again.

Tallahassee chuckled softly, brushing his lips against the younger man's temple. "Don't apologize to me, I just didn't want to hear Wichita bitch if you died. Besides, it would have made Little Rock cry."

Columbus smiled softly and snuggled a little deeper against the older man's chest. He wouldn't say anything but he knew that Tallahassee had been worried about him as well.

"So no more hiding injuries, got it?"

"Got it."

"Good, now go to sleep. I'll keep an eye on you." Another kiss was pressed to his temple and Columbus found himself relaxing back into the older man's embrace. He let out a breath slowly, his eyes slipping shut as he fell into a deep dreamless sleep, wrapped in the arms of his fellow survivor.

* * *

**Okay, so I'm really not sure if they sell Penicillan at a drug store but it helped with the plot so...there ya go =P**


	8. Nightmare

**This is not a death-fic!! I promise!! I had a hard enough time writing this without actually killing a character, I could never really do it O.o Anyway, hope you all like it!! :D**

* * *

It had been a stupid mistake. A really fucking stupid mistake. And like all stupid fucking mistakes, it could have been avoided if he'd had his head out of his ass and wasn't worried about the quickest way to perforate a zombie's neck and decapitate it with a screwdriver. There was a second one in the aisle next to him, its guttural grunts and moans drowned out by the noises of the dying-ish zombie at his hands. It had sneaked around the corner, dead eyes falling on the lone man in the blood splattered grocery aisle. It let out a terrible shriek and Tallahassee barely had time to turn around before it was barreling at him. He couldn't get to his gun fast enough and the zombie was mere seconds away from being on top of him. There was very little else he could do but sit and wait.

There was a startled cry from somewhere behind the zombie and the front portion of its chest was blown out, black blood splattered all across the shelves and tiled floors. It whirled in a fury, eyes now focused on the new target holding the double barrel. The newcomer was struggling to re-load his weapon when the zombie fell on him, sharp, broken teeth tearing into the juncture at his neck and shoulder.

"Columbus!" Tallahassee half cried, half growled, seeing the younger boy go down. He grabbed his gun, aiming quickly and fired, splitting the zombie's head in two. It collapsed on top of the younger man in a twitching heap. Tallahassee wasted no time in rushing across the aisle, sliding to his knees and throwing the zombie off of him.

Columbus looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes, blood bubbling from his mouth and trickling down the sides of his face. "Tall..." He gasped, a terrible gurgling sound echoing in the back of his throat.

"Shh...shh...you're okay..." The older man said brokenly; they both knew he wasn't. If the blood loss didn't kill him first, the Z virus definitely would. "Oh fuck...oh fuck..." He breathed, pressed his hand into the deep, gushing wound. "Goddammit...!!" He yelled to no one in particular, looking around the empty aisles. He didn't know where the girls were, all he knew was that Columbus was dying and was about to become one of the things they'd been running from for the past seven months.

Columbus shuddered violently, his eyes rolling back a bit and he coughed, bright red blood freckling his face. It was an odd contrast to the inky, black sludge that came from the zombies. "T-Tall..." He gasped again, struggling to keep his eyes open, another shudder racking his body.

"You're okay kid...you're okay..." He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince: himself or Columbus. Tears were streaming down his face, tears he hadn't felt since his song died, and he tightened his grip on the younger man. "Stay with me okay? You're going to be fine...just stay with me..."

Columbus smiled weakly, blood staining his teeth. "Liar..." He gasped before his body twitched a final time and he went still, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Tallahassee couldn't breathe for a second, he felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. "Columbus..." He said brokenly, shaking the kid even though he knew it wouldn't do any good. "Columbus!" He said more loudly, shaking him again. He didn't want to accept this, didn't want to believe any of it was real; Columbus was the one thing that had made him feel at least semi-normal in he couldn't remember how long and now he was gone...like everything else.

The boy in his arms twitched slightly but he knew it had nothing to do with being alive; these were death throws, the final stages the body goes through before the Z virus takes complete control. He'd seen it too many times, he knew what was coming.

Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat, he pulled out one of the hand guns he kept with him at all times and aimed it at the body's forehead, trying to ignore the way Columbus blinked, his eyes dead and unseeing. "I'm so sorry..." He whispered, keeping the body pressed to him. "I'm so fucking sorry..." And he pulled the trigger.

**OOOOO**

The gunshot echoed like canon-fire in his ears and Tallahassee bolted upright, gasping and tangled in the sheets. It was dark and the house smelled like old wood and dust. The windows were boarded but the skylight (zombies couldn't climb that well) wasn't, a thin sliver of moonlight illuminating the dark room. He took a deeper breath, trying to slow his racing heart and remember wear they were. They'd stopped in a town right outside of Trenton, New Jersey, and had settled in for the night. The girls were downstairs, keeping watch for the second shift and the other two had retired upstairs. Tallahassee looked over to see Columbus asleep next to him, his eyes closed and one arm tossed above his head. The air conditioner in the house didn't work so the younger man was shirtless, his skin painted silver in the moonlight.

It was a dream, it had all been a horrible fucking dream. Tallahassee covered his face with his hands, scrubbing at his eyes in an attempt to get the image of Columbus' dying form out of his mind. He took a deep breath, forcing down the wave of nausea that accompanied the image.

Finally, he opened his eyes again, letting them fall on the younger man. He was so still, closed eyes framed by dark lashes. He needed to be sure...he needed to touch him...

Slowly, almost as if he was afraid of what he was going to find, Tallahassee reached out and pressed his hand against the younger man's chest. He couldn't contain the sigh of relief as he felt the sleep-slowed rhythm of Columbus' heartbeat beneath his palm, his chest rising and falling slowly with each breath he took. He was warm and solid, not like the broken and dying young man in his dream; he was real. For a long minute, he couldn't bring himself to move his hand, all he could focus on was the feel of the younger man's heart beating against his fingertips.

His eyes traveled down, memorizing ever curve and outline of the kid's body. He may be a scrawny little spit-fuck but he did have some nice muscle tone. The hand at his chest traveled down, fingers ghosting over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach, craving the feeling of the warmth and solidity there. He could see the outline of Columbus' hips beneath the sheet and the way his legs were tangled in the bedding. He continued passing his fingers lightly over the younger boy's skin, careful not to wake him.

For being a survivor of the zombie apocalypse, Columbus was a surprisingly deep sleeper. He could block out all of the chatter in the car and pass out for a good four hours before he ever got uncomfortable. Sure, most of the time he was scared of his own reflection, but the kid slept like a rock in most situations. Tallahassee had found this fact both fascinating and endearing at the same time. Fascinating because the kid could sleep through damn near anything and endearing because he would cling to any available heat source (mainly Tallahassee) like a Velcro monkey. When their relationship had first progressed into something other than sort-of friendship, Columbus would weld himself onto the older man at some point during the night, wrapping his legs around him like an octopus and holding on for dear life like he was afraid he would vanish if he wasn't holding on to him. Thanks to the dream he'd had tonight, Tallahassee could understand this reaction better.

"What are you doing...?" A sleeping voice said above him and he turned to see Columbus looking down at him with tired eyes.

"Watching you." Tallahassee answered simply, resting his hand against Columbus' hip.

"Okay, cause that's not creepy at all..." The younger man commented quietly in a bemused tone. He was silent for a second, watching the older zombie hunter. "Something wrong...?"

Tallahassee shook his head and said nothing, not wanting to relive the memories of the dream. Talking about it jinxed them, made things more likely to happen. He couldn't lose Columbus, not now, not ever.

"Tall...?"

He cringed inwardly, hearing the dying gasp in his head once more. "I had a shitty dream." He said simply, hoping the kid would take the hint and leave it at that.

Columbus was silent for a second, his hand suddenly appearing on the older man's knotted shoulder. "Buck...?" He asked softly, not needing an explanation as to what the dream entailed; he already knew.

"No..."

"The girls?" There was no answer and he swallowed lightly. "Me...?" He felt Tallahassee tense beneath him and knew his answer.

"Columbus, I want you to promise me something." The older man said gravely, his voice deep and serious in the darkness.

"What?"

"No matter where we go, no matter where we are, I don't want you out of my sight, you understand? You stay with me no matter where we are, even if it looks deserted. I want you on my ass like white on rice." He looked up at the younger man, moving his hand to cup his face. "I need you to promise me that. I need to hear you say it."

"Tall-"

"Please." The older man urged, his thumb brushing across his cheekbone.

Columbus blinked in surprise; "please" was almost not in Tallahassee's vocabulary. For him to say it so seriously, it must have been a big deal. "Okay, I promise."

Tallahassee seemed to visibly relax, his shoulder slumping a bit. "Good." He breathed, moving so he was laying on the pillow again. He reached over, pulling Columbus against his chest and holding him close.

Columbus allowed the movement, though it was surprising to say the least. Tallahassee _never_ initiated cuddling, he was always the one who had to make the first move and then the older man would slowly but surely wrap his arms around him. But tonight was different; whatever he had dreamed, it had scared him more than Columbus had ever seen. so he didn't question it, he let Tallahassee do whatever he needed to do in order to get through the night.

Tallahassee held him gently, hiding his face in the younger man's dark curls. He whispered something, those three words he never said to anyone while they were conscious enough to hear them. Columbus smiled, snuggling a little deeper into his arms. "You too..."

* * *

**There ya go! Just a little Talumbus fluff to start off the week :D**


	9. Pool

**Hello all!! Tomorrow is my birthday so you know what that means?! Half-drowned Columbus for all!! Yay!! :D Hope you all enjoy!!**

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It was hot; summer sucked in Zombieland for two reasons. First, there was no air conditioning in most of the houses which sucked, and second, zombies tend to smell even worse when they've been rotting out in the sun for a few days. Even if they didn't encounter any directly, the smell followed them no matter where they went. It was in every city, every house, every street the turned on, and it was disgusting.

The neighborhood they'd stayed in had been nice enough, pretty brick houses and white picket fences that had probably been great for keeping out anything but zombies. Now most of the fences were broken, splintered, blood-stained wood lining the once manicured lawns and the pretty brick houses had shattered windows and broken doors. Yep, Zombieland had an awesome habit of taking everything that was once pure and beautiful in the world and fucking it up.

They had stayed here longer than the other houses they'd squatted in, partially because it was too fucking hot to drive and they wanted to have some sense of normalcy at least for a little bit. So they'd found one of the pretty brick houses that still had some windows and holed themselves up for about a week. Most of the houses still had electricity so that wasn't a problem, the lack of air conditioning was easily remedied with a few box fans. They were moving out in the morning, heading for God only knows where, but it was better than becoming too used to one place. Once again, Zombieland had a tendency to fuck things up when you got to comfortable.

Columbus straightened slightly, looking out across the empty back yard and the rows of fences that spread out in either direction. It was sunny outside, another beautiful day had the entire damn world not been overrun with the undead.  
"Whacha lookin' at?" A gruff, familiar voice asked from behind him, the presence of another person settling side his shoulder.

"Just the houses." Columbus answered honestly with a slight shrug. "The neighborhood, everything. Trying to remember what it was like before all of this." He hated the reminiscing game, it was depressing as hell, but he couldn't help it sometimes.

"Eh, the world was shit before all of this, kid. Just a little less shitty. And less cannibals." Tallahassee joked and Columbus felt himself smile at the joke. Despite his rough exterior, the older man was able to make light of most situations and took their situation in stride, keeping the others from sinking into the despair that always hung on the horizon. "The girls were talking about walking down to the end of the street." It wasn't really a questions as to whether or not he wanted to go; he was going, they were all going, it was just a forewarning. Being holed up in the house all day was boring so walking up and down the street, looking at the different houses had been a daily routine for the past few days. Columbus didn't mind, once again, it felt almost normal and would have been if they weren't fully armed with each walk they took.

Columbus grabbed his shot gun and scooped a few handfuls of shells into his pocket, following Tallahassee to the front door where Wichita and Little Rock were waiting. Making sure all their weapons were loaded, they stepped out into the remains of the world and walked down the street.

**OOOOO**

Little Rock and Wichita had been chattering away quietly for the past ten minutes about the benefits of brick houses versus wood and how their ideal home would be built and set up. Columbus divided his attention between listening to them and listening to everything around them. The neighborhood was quiet; it had been all week, one or two zombie stragglers showing up and staggering around, disappearing within an hour. Still, it never hurt to be cautious.

There was a crash somewhere off to their left and the four froze, looking around carefully for any sign of what had caused it. It was silent for several seconds, the tension hanging in the air like the smell of decay that never seemed to leave. Suddenly, out of one of the houses directly across from them, three zombies threw themselves through the window, charging at the the survivors with murderous intent.

Tallahassee fired two shots without a second though, taking out one of them with deadly accuracy. "Go!" He barked over one shoulder and Wichita grabbed Little Rock by the arm, dragging her in a run into the back yard of the house on the opposite side of the street. Columbus followed in close pursuit, firing over his shoulder at the charging zombies, careful to avoid hitting Tallahassee in the process.

They ran into the back yard of the other house, covering all four corners and holding their ground. There was a tarp-covered pool in the center of the yard, leaves and sticks covering the top and swaying from the water underneath. One of the zombies lunged into the yard, aiming directly for Tallahassee. The older man fired carefully, hitting him right between the eyes and sending him sprawling. He fired again, the classic double tap, but was knocked off balance as the last zombie crashed into him.

"Fuckin' cannibal..." He growled, keeping the zombie at arm's length and out of bite range. The zombie was missing half of his jaw but that didn't mean he couldn't take out a good chunk of flesh if given the opportunity.

Columbus rushed forward, striking the zombie with the butt of his gun in an attempt to knock him away from Tallahassee. He couldn't get a clean shot without running the risk of hitting the other man so he needed him far enough away to aim. The zombie had something else in mind though. He swung his arm out wildly, catching Columbus sharply in the chest and sending him flying.

The younger man fully expected to hit the ground and was more than a little surprised when he landed on something soft and wavy, almost like falling into a water bed. With a startled gasp he realized he'd landed on the tarp covering the pool. He barely had time to register anything else before the tarp capsized beneath him and he sank into the the pool.

He let out a panicked gasp as the water closed over his head, his arms and legs spreading wide in an effort to break free from the watery trap; he only succeeded in getting more tangled. Water filled his mouth, working its way down his throat and into his lungs. He coughed ineffectively, and struggled more, desperately trying to break free and get out of the tarp. It was like being trapped in a blue, plastic net, with no way out and no way to break through. This was bad.

Columbus gasped again, unable to get past the water. He body felt heavy, weighted within the tarp, and he blinked slowly, sluggishly. All he could see was blue, in every direction, up and down. His eyelids grew heavy, vision dimming into a grey murkiness. It seemed odd that he was going to drown in a world full of zombies. That was one of his last coherent thoughts before inky blackness overcame him.

**OOOOO**

Tallahassee heard the muffled splash behind him, turning just long enough to see Columbus sink into the tarp-covered pool. "Columbus!" He called over his shoulder, watching as the girls broke into a run toward the edge of the pool to help him. He turned back to the zombie that was still snapping at him and managed to knock him back far enough to grab his gun. With unfailing accuracy, he shot the zombie in the head, taking off the remaining side of his jaw and the rest of his face in the process. The creature flopped slightly, sinking to its knees before another shot hit him directly in the chest. Tallahassee was racing across the yard before he even hit the ground.

Wichita was in the pool already, dipping beneath the surface and frantically pulling at the tarp, trying to find some indication of where Columbus was. The movement of the water hid any thrashing movement the ex-college student may have been making and he sure as hell hadn't bobbed to the surface yet. With a muffled curse, Tallahassee jumped into the pool as well to help with the search.

The tarp was huge, swirling and folding beneath the water and every time one corner was pulled away another corner would fill in the void. Wichita was pulling from one side, Tallahassee from the other and Little Rock had a handful of it above them, pulling as hard as she could out of the pool. Still there was no sign of Columbus.

Tallahassee popped to the surface around the same time as Wichita, an angry snarl tugging at the corner of his mouth. "God dammit!" He growled before diving down again, swimming back to where he had been before and pulling at the tarp again. Then he saw it, a flash of pale skin in the midst of all the blue. Reacting instinctively, he reached out and wrapped his hand around a skinny wrist, pulling the owner of it toward him. He could have laughed in relief when he saw the cloud of curls around Columbus' head but he couldn't think of that right now. The kid was unconscious and they needed to get to the surface. Keeping his arm wrapped tightly around Columbus' chest to keep him from getting stuck in the tarp again, Tallahassee kicked to the surface, taking a deep, gasping breath when his head broke the water. "I got him!" He gasped, dragging his limp cargo with him. It worried him how unresponsive the younger man was but he pushed it out of his mind, focusing instead on reaching the edge of the pool.

Wichita had surfaced a few seconds before him and was already out of the pool, grabbing Columbus by the arms and dragging him out of the water. With Little Rock's help, they managed to get him all the way out of the pool and laid out on the concrete beside it. Tallahassee pulled himself out of the water a split second later, dropping to his knees beside the younger man.

Columbus looked bad, his skin a sick grayish color and his lips tinted blue. His eyes were closed and dark curls of hair stuck to his forehead, clinging to the wet skin like glue. He looked dead. Pushing the thought out of his head, Tallahassee leaned over, pressing his ear against the younger man's chest and listening closely. The wet squish of the shirt against his cheek might have been funny had the situation not been so incredibly serious. Tallahassee felt a sick coldness develop in the center of his chest when he realized he couldn't hear Columbus' heartbeat. Shit! The kid's heart wasn't beating!

Cursing under his breath once again, Tallahassee positioned his hands over Columbus' heart and interlaced his fingers. "Don't even fuckin' think about it..." He growled, beginning compressions rhythmically, desperately trying to bring the younger man back. "There's no way I'm gonna fuckin' let you die from fallin' in a Goddamn pool...!" He continued the compressions, ignoring the steady trickle of water down the sides of his face and neck. The girls were behind him, Little Rock crying softly while Wichita pressed her against her side, trying to hide the younger girl from the scene. None of them wanted to see a member of their group in such a situation.

Pausing the compressions, Tallahassee leaned over, titling Columbus' head back and breathing into him. He could see the slight rise and fall of the younger man's chest, a good indication that the air had indeed reached his lungs, but Columbus still wasn't breathing on his own. Tallahassee repeated the breaths two more times, watching from the corner of his eye to make sure they were going in all the way. When the younger man remained unresponsive, he gave a frustrated growl and began the cycle of compressions again. "C'mon kid...come back to me..."

He remembered taking a first aid class when Buck was born, the basics of first response care: dressing wounds, caring for the injured and everything in between. It included CPR but, no matter how many times he'd tried to convince himself he didn't need it, he had never been so glad for that course than he was now. He'd been helpless when Buck died, it had been too late for him to do anything to save his son. Right now he had a choice and he sure as hell wasn't letting Columbus go without a damn good fight.

"Breathe kid..." He mumbled as his hands continued their rhythmic pace. "God dammit, breathe!" He leaned down once more, breathing a full breath into the unconscious young man's lungs. "Fucking breathe, Columbus!"

As if on cue, Columbus jerked slightly, a weak, gurgled sound echoing from deep within his chest. He convulsed weakly, body arching just a bit before he went still again.

"No!" Tallahassee growled, shoving the heel of his hand sharply into Columbus' sternum. "Breathe dammit!"

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a guttural gasp, Columbus convulsed suddenly, coughing and gagging on water as it was expelled from his lungs. He coughed raggedly, curling onto his side and vomiting water onto the damp concrete.

"That's it." The older man encouraged, patting him roughly on the back in an attempt to get the rest of the water out of his lungs. "Cough it up, kid. Let it out..."

Columbus gagged a few more times, wincing as a few more mouthfuls of water were spit out on the ground. When he couldn't cough anything else up, he lay on the concrete, trembling and disoriented. "What the-?" He started but was cut off when someone grabbed him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Don't you ever fucking do that again..." Tallahassee breathed next to his ear, his face hidden against Columbus' neck. He held him tightly, unable to break the contact, almost as if he were afraid if he let go Columbus would still be lying lifeless on the concrete. "I swear to God..."

Columbus relaxed into the embrace, closing his eyes and leaning his head against Tallahassee's shoulder. He was tired, exhausted for reasons he wasn't even sure of and his chest hurt like a son of a bitch. Still, he was perfectly content to sit like this for a bit longer. "I always hated swimming..." He mumbled just as Wichita and Little Rock appeared next to him, wrapping their arms around both Columbus and Tallahassee and hanging on for dear life. They all stayed like that for a long time, each one locked in their own thoughts. Nothing needed to be said; they were together and they were still alive, that's all the mattered to anyone.

When they were finally able to let go of one another, Tallahassee kept his hand fisted in the back of Columbus' shirt, needing the reassurance of the younger man's warmth against him for just a bit longer. They left the back yard, dead zombies and all, and made their way back to the house they'd been staying in. One thing was for sure: no matter how hot it got, Tallahassee was never letting Columbus near a pool ever again.

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**Hehe, hope you guys liked it!! :D**


	10. Insomnia

**SLASH!!!**

Okay, so its not that bad but they do kiss (finally!!) Lol, I've been leading up to this since I started this story and I figured its time they actually did kiss =P Hope you all like it!! :D

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It was quiet tonight; well, quieter than most of the nights they dealt with. Even with no people, Zombieland was still a very noisy place to live. Between the constant moans and groans from the undead population, it was hard to find any quiet time. Tonight was an exception, though. They'd found a house on the outskirts of town, far enough away that it wasn't in the immediate vicinity of the voracious jaws of the its inhabitants but close enough that all the had to do if they needed anything was get in the car and drive about five miles into town. The house was nice, surprisingly well-preserved after the zombie apocalypse, and it was perfect for the few days they decided to stay in it.

The first two nights had been perfect, no wandering zombies, no victims to clean up, it had been as close to normal as they'd had in a while. They had gone through the usual measures of boarding up the windows and doors but it almost didn't seem necessary, they hadn't seen anyone, living or undead, out here since they'd been here. The previous owners had a killer TV set-up and a movie library that would but a theater to shame so it wasn't like there was nothing to do. Tallahassee's new favorite hobby was educating Little Rock on Stallone movies.

They had divided the rooms based on gender: the girls took the room down the hall, farthest from the staircase, and the men took the one closest to it. The rooms were huge, plenty of room for all of their assorted weapons and luggage. There was a walk-on balcony that overlooked the back yard and, father down the road, the town they'd come from. Columbus wasn't sure if the girls had something to the same effect in their room but he didn't mention it; the balcony was cool and without the constant presence of the undead, it was a nice place to sit.

That's where he ended up tonight. It was roughly 4:30 in the morning, the moon hanging low in the star-studded sky. It was cool outside, a soft breeze drifting over the dry wood and ruffling the folds of his shirt. Tallahassee was still asleep, his hat drawn low over his face and his back resting against the door. Since they'd begun traveling together, he wondered whether or not the older man ever slept in an actual bed. He usually chose to sleep in a chair or against the wall but he'd never really seen him take a bed. Maybe it was a protective measure or maybe he just didn't like mattresses, Columbus wasn't sure.

He'd been having trouble sleeping again and it was damn irritating. He'd battled insomnia all his life and the threat of literally being eaten alive didn't really help with the notion of a dreamless night. He'd tried sleeping pills a few times but they always left him feeling more tired than when he started so he stopped. Like his phobias, it was just something he lived with and got used to.

A car alarm was going off in the distance, a dull orange glow flickering off the curved horizon. Something was on fire; not that it was any surprise, things caught fire all the time in Zombieland, but it was surreal to never hear a fire truck rushing to save the burning building. There was nothing but silence and sometimes a few groans if any of the zombies got to close to a wayward flame. Its surprising how easily you can adapt to the fucked up situations your life manages to throw you into. In college, the idea of being a survivor of the zombie apocalypse was so laughable that Columbus never even considered it. Now...well, now things were different.

Insomnia sucked in the same way isolation chambers sucked: they gave you a shit-ton of time to think. He'd thought of everything lately, his brief relationship with Wichita, if there were any people left in this shithole of a world, if they would ever settle into one place and stay there, the list went on and on. Lately though, Columbus had found the majority of his thoughts centered around a certain cowboy hat-wearing member of their team. In fact, nearly all of the sleepless nights he'd had in the past few months had been based around Tallahassee in some way or another.

Growing up, Columbus had never really questioned his sexuality; actually, he just didn't care to be honest. Unlike his parents, he didn't believe love was black and white, right or wrong, or anything in between. He based his affections on emotion and attitude, it didn't matter whether they were male or female. And right now, he couldn't ignore the way his heart fluttered in his chest every time Tallahassee was near or whenever the older man would say his name in that southern draw. It was intoxicating, addicting, and terrible because he was 99.9% certain the older man would sooner string him up and leave him for zombie bait than take him on as a lover.

Columbus sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. It would ruin everything, not to mention shake the dynamic of their fragile little family. Though they had been traveling together for almost five months now, he was pretty sure Little Rock and Wichita were only a full tank of gas and a set of car keys away from ditching them if they got the opprotunity and Tallahassee...well, he was just determined to live it up while there was still living left to be done. Making a silly confession of a crush would ruin all of that.

"Couldn't sleep?" A thick voice drawled from behind him and Columbus jumped slightly, turning just a bit to see Tallahassee emerge from the shadows of the room. He took a few steps out onto the balcony, looking up at the stars and taking in the unusual silence of the night. "Nice night." He muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"What are you doing up?" Columbus asked; it wasn't that he didn't enjoy the company, it was just a lot easier to think when the object of his affections wasn't standing right next to him.

"I could ask you the same thing." Tallahassee dropped down onto the wooden deck next to him, letting his legs hang over the edge. The ledge was high enough that they didn't have to worry about a zombie wandering by and making a midnight snack of someone's foot. "You got somethin' on your mind, kid?" He asked, watching the younger man out of the corner of his eye.

"Huh?"

"You haven't been sleeping much lately." Tallahassee shrugged slightly, looking out over the dark tree-line. "Normally I wouldn't say anything, its your business and all, but if you keep it up you're going to get sick." He turned, facing Columbus directly. "So, you wanna tell me what's up and save us both a lot of trouble?"

Columbus was silent for a minute, carefully thinking through his options. He could spill everything and suffer through the awkwardness for the chance of a decent night's sleep again or he could keep it all in and continue his nocturnal sessions.

"Columbus?"

With a slight sigh, the younger man bit his lip, looking out to the remains of the city. "I've just been thinking a lot lately, you know? Like, where are we going? How many people are left in the world?" He shrugged, continuing carefully. "You know, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea of one day getting things back to some shred of normalcy and falling in love. Settling down...not that squatting in other people's houses isn't great and all but..." He faded off, feeling a slight flush rush to his cheeks.

Tallahassee sat thoughtfully for a second, chewing on a toothpick that had magically appeared in the side of his mouth. "I'm sure there's other survivors, kid. There's gotta be more than just us." He let the answer hang for a minute before he continued. "As for the love thing, its not all that great. Love is a pain in the ass, it makes you do some really stupid shit in the end." He looked at Columbus. "Things didn't work out with Wichita I'm guessin'?"

Columbus shook his head slowly, looking down at the shadowed grass below them. "No, she wasn't...right." It sounded like a horrible thing to say, like there was something wrong with her, but it was true. She wasn't right for him, she knew it before he really did, and they ended it peacefully. Tallahassee on the other hand-

"Yeah, well, you'll find someone." The man in question muttered, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead. Was it just him or did Tallahassee sound like he was sulking? The idea of Columbus finding someone else was making him sulk?

Summoning every ounce of courage he could manage, Columbus reached over and laid his hand over Tallahassee's, his fingers wrapping around the older man's hand just tightly enough for him to realize it wasn't a fluke. He braced himself for the disgust and the name-calling but it never came. Instead, much to his surprise, Tallahassee squeezed back.

"You know what you're doing, kid?" He asked, never taking his eyes away from the tree-line. His jaw was set in a hard line but he didn't appear angry, if anything his words sounded almost hopeful.

"Yes..." Columbus breathed, his words coming out as a shaky whisper. "I've known for a long time...its why I haven't been able to sleep." The words were all running together and he took a shuddering breath to calm himself. "I'm sorry...I know this is going to fuck everything up but I just-" He was cut off as his lips were captured by Tallahassee's.

The kiss was soft, shy at first, and for a few seconds, neither party moved. When reality sank back in, Columbus leaned a little closer, his finger's tangling in the fabric of the older man's shirt. The kisses became desperate, more foreceful, and Columbus couldn't hear anything over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. A strong arm snaked around his back, pulling him into the older man's lap, his legs haphazardly straddling Tallahassee's. Sharp teeth nipped at his lower lip, catching the sensitive skin and making him crave more. He pressed his body into the older man's chest, arching his back in a desperate need to be closer.

"Fuck kid..." Tallahassee breathed, breaking apart for a second, his eyes bright and face flushed in the dim light. "You keep that up and I'm going to take you right here and now."

"I wouldn't be opposed to that..." Columbus laughed softly, hoping the suggestion wasn't too bold. He felt like his face was on fire but it was the best sensation he'd felt in months.

Tallahassee let out a low breath through his teeth and cursed softly. "Jesus, the things you're doing to me..." He muttered, gathering a lapful of Columbus and holding him close. "I swear to God kid, I'm holding back sheerly on the basis that I know you haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in three days. But the next time we do this, I'm not going to stop." Rough, calloused fingers combed through his hair and Columbus felt himself sinking deeper into the older man's embrace.

Shifting back a bit, Tallahassee rested his back against the wall, looking out over the trees as the darkness of the night began to fade into the dull glow of the morning. "You're getting a good night's sleep tonight if I have to hold you down myself."

"I think I could handle that." Columbus teased, resting his head against Tallahassee's shoulder and sighing contentedly. The warm solidity beneath him kept him grounded and the constant motion of the older man's fingers combing through his hair was soothing. With a stifled yawn, he felt himself relaxing into Tallahassee's arms. "Stay with me?" He asked, convinced that if he didn't the older man may disappear like the fragmented dream he'd fallen into.

Tallahassee smiled, his lips brushing against the younger boy's ear. "I think I could handle that."

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**Hehe, aww :D**


	11. Stairs

**Hey guys!! Sorry its taken me so long to update, finals have been ruling my life for two weeks now O.o This kinda popped into my head one day and I thought it was kinda funny so here ya go lol! Poor Columbus, I really can't leave him alone =p**

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Columbus hated stairs. It wasn't the exercise or the fact that he lived on the third floor of a dorm with no elevator that made him hate them. No, it was the fact the stairs cause more household injuries than just about anything in the house. You can up the stairs, down the stairs, side ways on the stairs, over the stairs, hell, he was pretty sure you could under the stairs too. Stairs were dangerous, like a multi-step booby trap just waiting to happen. His parents didn't have stairs in their house, they were just as bothered by them as he was, so they lived ground level with no area more raised than a sidewalk curb.

Stairs were even more dangerous in Zombieland. You had two choices when it came to stairs in Z-land: run up the stairs and get eaten or run down the stairs and get swarmed then eaten. Either way, it made stairs even more of an enemy to him than they already were.

Tallahassee and Wichita preferred houses with stairs though, they said it gave them a good look out point, almost like an elevated fort. Little Rock didn't care and Columbus pretty much left his intense dislike of the stairs alone; there was no point in adding them to his growing list of phobias. Did you know that in 2008 alone there were an estimated 1,300 injuries in the U.S. related to falling down the stairs? Well, there were, and maybe if Tallahassee and Wichita knew that they'd avoid the stairs too.

The house they were scoping out now was like a damn fun house; there were stairs everywhere! There were stairs leading up to the house, stairs leading to the garage out back, stairs inside, it was like a freakin' Escher painting! Tallahassee was already on the second floor and Wichita was trailing up behind him, guns in their hands. Little Rock was in the room across from him and he had ended up in the kitchen, the smell of rotten food filling the small room. He had his gun clutched in both hands, swinging it out in front of him as he walked in case anything happened to pop out at him.

There was a door right outside the kitchen, lingering in the hallway like an unused closet. He opened the door swiftly, mentally preparing himself for any kind of attack that sprang out at him. To his surprise, nothing happened. He waited a few seconds before reaching into the dark hallway and flicking on the light. It was a basement, wooden stairs (again with the stairs!) leading down to a concrete floor with cardboard boxes and plastic storage containers covering every square inch. The light flooded into all corners so he could see that nothing, dead or alive, was down there which was a relief. He was getting tired of zombies popped out of every dark corner they came to.

"Columbus!" Little Rock cried just as she fired her shotgun at something that rushed toward her. Apparently he'd thought too soon. One had been hiding somewhere in the house, he wasn't sure where, but that didn't matter. It was in the house and a zombie was still a zombie. Little Rock fired again, taking out a chunk of its arm as it got closer. She was working at reloading her gun but it was taking too long, the thing would be one her in seconds.

Thinking quickly, Columbus fired above her head, taking off the top portion of the zombie's skull and splattering blood all over the ceiling. The zombie staggered a bit, a gurgled groan coming from its mouth. Columbus prepared to fire again just as another shot ripped through its throat, separating the head from the rest of the body. He looked up to see Wichita and Tallahassee on the staircase above them and was about to call out a thanks when the zombie toppled backwards, on top of him, and sent both of them tumbling down the stairs into the basement.

Columbus felt every thud and crack of the stairs as he fell, hitting his shoulder, back, chest, shoulder again, head, more than once, (Jesus Christ, how long were these stairs?!) and finally landing with a heavy and painful thud on the floor. There was a very dead, very heavy zombie bleeding on top of him, thick, sludge-like blood staining his shirt and jeans. Normally, he would have been terrified, scrambling to get away from the horrible thing, which he totally would have been doing had he been able to breathe. The fall had knocked all the air out of him and his chest felt like it was on fire, an intense pain burning along his ribs. He gasped a few times but that only made the pain worse, each breath feeling like a knife wedging into his lungs. He could hear the others rushing down the stairs (fucking stairs) and calling his name but he was in too much pain to answer.

Columbus now had another reason to hate stairs; tumbling down them like a rag doll kinda leaves you with a feeling of intense dislike. He wanted to get the zombie off of him, he could feel long-dead blood clinging to his clothes and skin and it was making him sick. Or maybe that was because he couldn't breathe and he could feel his own blood in his hair. Either way, he wasn't feeling too hot at the moment.

"Columbus!" A gruff voice called from the top of the stairs. "Jesus kid…!" There was a thump-thump-thump as the older man scaled the steps like a pro and suddenly appeared at his side. He looked down at him worriedly, noticing the startling paleness of the younger man and the shock of red staining the skin behind his ear. "You okay, kid? Can you feel your legs?"

"I could feel them a lot more if you get this fucking thing off me…" Columbus ground out between his teeth, his voice sharp with pain. He was right on the verge of panic and the persistent weight on top of his chest was making it worse.

Without a second thought, Tallahassee flipped the remains of the zombie off the younger man and tugged him away from the corpse. Noticing the way Columbus grit his teeth as he was moved, he looked down at him again. "What hurts?"

"Everything." The younger man groaned, taking a slightly deeper breath but wincing as the movement irritated his aching ribs.

"You gotta be a little more specific than that kid." Tallahassee muttered, his fingers combing through the younger man's hair and feeling a shallow gash behind his ear. It wasn't deep enough to worry about but it was bleeding like crazy which wasn't comforting either.

"My ribs…" Columbus groaned finally, squeezing his eyes shut. "I feel like I've been kicked in the chest…a lot…" Before he could say anymore, Tallahassee grabbed a handful of his shirt and ripped it straight down the middle, exposing the younger man's chest. "The hell-!?" He gasped at the sudden exposure.

"Sh." Tallahassee muttered, his hands ghosting over the bones and prodding lightly. Columbus gasped suddenly in a few places and there was almost always the tell-tale give of a bone that had broken. All together, he was looking at two that were certainly broken and three that were maybe broken. "I really can't leave you alone for more than five minutes, can I spit-fuck?" Tallahassee mumbled, brushing his thumb along the younger man's cheekbone affectionately.

"You could if there weren't any stairs…" Columbus tried to joke. Breathing still hurt so joking wasn't really in the cards right now.

"Point taken." He gathered Columbus in his arms as gently as he could and lifted him slowly, trying to ignore the younger man's painful whimpers. Wichita was already at the top of the stairs with an armful of bandages and first aid supplies and Little Rock had a bag full of ice she'd found in the freezer. Rule 32: Enjoy the little things, like the fact that there was still power in most of the houses. Keeping a gentle grip on Columbus, he climbed the stairs, meeting the girls at the top.

"You're going to have to deal with stairs for a little bit longer kid, because with the broken ribs you have going on right now, I don't think you're going to be much for travelin' for a few days." The older man said as their little group climbed the second set of stairs up to the second story.

"I think I can handle that…" Columbus mumbled, keeping his jaw clenched tightly against the pain. He still hated stairs, they were a bitch in a half, but curled against Tallahassee's side, breathing in the scent of the older man's shirt, he couldn't really bring himself to care about much of anything.

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**Poor thing =/ Ah well, you guys wouldn't read it if you didn't like it lol! Let me know if you have any idea you'd like me to write about!! I'd be happy for the ideas and would definitely credit you for the plot bunny =P**


	12. Glass

**Hello all! Ugh, I cringed writing this because broken glass freaks me out but this is for _GooooodPie_ and her wonderful idea of having broken glass be part of the prompt! Thanks sweetie! :D Hope you all like it!**

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Columbus gripped his gun a little more tightly, following closely behind Tallahassee. He still wasn't sure why they'd stopped here; Tallahassee had just said he needed something so here they were, inside of an abandoned Wal-Mart somewhere in the middle of Texas. The store was quiet, the lights flickering on and off from a breaker box that had probably seen better days. The ailes were littered with merchendise, boxes and containers spilling all over the tiled floor. There was a faint racid odor coming from the front of the store, probably in the area of the meat and produce department. So far, though, there weren't any zombies, something Columbus was silently grateful for. Tallahassee lived for zombie-slaying but being a building that wasn't overrun by the undead was nice too. Still, it never hurt to be cautious so he kept his gun gripped against his side, ready to shoot at anything that moved.

"So...what are we here for again?" Columbus ventured, keeping close to the older man. The girls were outside in the Hummer, neither all that interested in following along in one of Tallahassee's crazy schemes. Columbus knew the older man was more than capable of taking care of himself but he didn't want to go into the building alone so he'd tagged along.

"Guns." Tallahassee tossed a wicked smile over one shoulder and turned into one of the main ailes. "I'm lookin' for somethin' big and ugly, somethin' that can do a shit-ton of damage. You don't think they got bazukas here, do ya?"

Columbus smirked a bit. "No, but I'm sure you can find something comparable." Tallahassee was finicky when it came to weapons. Sure, a simple handgun was fine and all the various lawn equipment he'd collected worked great when he was feeling especially creative, but he liked to leave his mark. Browsing the gun department in Wal-Mart was like letting him loose in a candy store.

The cases were taller than both of them, locked from the outside, and full to the brim with every kind of shot gun and hand gun you could imagine. The ammo was in a seperate case beneath the cash register, un-opened boxes lining two shelves with everything from buckshot to hollow points. Tallahassee grinned broadly as he came up to the two cases, eyeing them carefully. "Oh yeah, I could do some damage with these babies." He clapped Columbus on the back and walked over to the tallest one, inspecting the variety of guns at his disposal.

Columbus smirked a bit, watching him browse the selection. If you had asked him eight months ago that he would be sleeping with a gun-toting zombie-slayer with a Twinkie addiction, he would have laughed in your face. Now it seemed almost normal; well, as normal as it could get in Zombieland.

There was a rustle of something in the fabric department across from him and he turned just in time to see one of the biggest zombies he'd seen since all of this started running toward him. The man looked like a professional wrestler, his biceps bulging and bleeding beneath his t-shirt, and he could probably bench press both he and Tallahassee at the same time.

"Fuck...!" Columbus gasped, firing and catching the zombie just on the side of the neck. Blood splattered all over the floor, staining the tiles black, but he kept running. "Fuck...fuck...fuck!" Columbus muttered, struggling to reload his gun.

Tallahassee was next to him, firing at the charging zombie. He managed to hit him in the chest, ripping away a large chunk of rotting flesh, but it didn't do any good. "Didn't know we'd be takin' on Hulk Hogan today." He muttered, digging into his pocket for a hollow point.

The zombie was on them before either could fire off another round. It made a grab for Columbus, catching a handful of the boy's shirt and lifting him off the ground and over his head. He struggled, watching in horror as Tallahassee finished loading his weapon and took aim. The shot was deafening and and the corpse shook beneath him as it's head was completely severed from it's body. The zombie staggered just slightly before falling forward, Columbus still clutched in his hands.

Out of the corner of his eye, Columbus could see Tallahassee making a desperate grab for him but it was a split second too late. He crashed back-first onto the amunition case, glass shattering on impact. It was loud, echoing in his ears, and for a second he couldn't breathe as all the air was knocked out of his body. A few seconds later, the pain started. Shards of glass were dug into his back and shoulders, slicing through the thin fabric of his shirt and embedding themselves in his skin. He could feel blood, hot and stinging, oozing down his back and dripping into the broken case.

Tallahassee was suddenly above him, calloused hands touching his face as gently as he could. "Jesus Christ..." He muttered, looking at the steadily growing puddles of blood that were forming beneath the younger man. "Fuck...I'm so sorry! I didn't want him to-...I tried to-..." He trailed off again, shaking his head in disgust with himself. "Jesus Columbus, I'm so fucking sorry..."

"Please get me out of here..." Columbus managed through clenched teeth. His eyes were closed tightly against the pain but it didn't make it any better; he felt like his back was on fire. Strong hands grabbed him by the uninjured parts of his arms and pulled up slowly, dragging him out of the broken glass. He could still feel it in his skin, slicing and penetrating into him, and he supressed a whimper. "Oh God..." He mumbled, feeling the blood covering his back.

Tallahassee was behind him, inspecting the damage as carefully as he could. It was bad; Columbus' back was was a mess of blood and glass, long tangling cuts criss-crossing across his back and shoulders. The shirt was shredded, clinging to his bloody skin like it was part of him. Large shards of glass were visible through the shirt, slick and red with his blood and Tallahassee felt his stomach do an uneasy flip. He'd never had a problem with blood until now but this was almost too much to take. He tested one of the larger shards first, trying to pull it loose, but a sharp gasp from Columbus caused him to stop immediately. "Sorry..." He whispered, his heart aching for the injured young man.

"Its bad isn't it...?" Columbus asked, his voice shaking and his face pale.

"'fraid so, kiddo." Tallahassee muttered, immediately wrapping an arm around Columbus' waist to keep him upright; the kid was swaying violently and the last thing he needed was for him to pitch forward and give himself a concussion. "Come on, let's get you back to the car." New guns forgotten, Tallahassee kept a tight grip on the younger man and very carefully led him to the front of the building. He knew Wichita was going to pitch a bitch fit when she saw the shape Columbus was in and he was fully prepared for that, all he was worried about was getting the younger man out of the store and somewhere safe so he could patch him up.

**OOOOO**

Twenty minutes later, and after a severe bitching from both Wichita and Little Rock, the party pulled into the driveway of an abandoned house. They had passed it on the way into town, marking it as theirs for the night, so the windows were already boarded up and most of the supplies had been moved inside. Tallahassee had never been so thankful for early preparation in his life. While he and Wichita went inside to make sure the house was still zombie-free, Little Rock helped Columbus sit up. He had been draped across the seat on his stomach, his head resting in the younger girl's lap. She had managed to carefully pick out a few of the smaller pieces of glass but it was hard to see through all the blood and every pained gasp from Columbus made her stop. She settled with gently running her fingers through his hair, trying to keep him calm. There was a lot of blood, more than should be healthy, and Columbus was trembling like a frightened animal the entire time. Now that he was sitting, it was even more noticable and he looked ready to pass out at any minute.

Tallahassee appeared at her door a few seconds later, nodding that it was safe for them to come inside, and opened the door. Little Rock climbed out and offered Columbus her hand, hiding the wince when his blood slicked fingers met hers. With Tallahassee's help, they managed to get the injured young man out of the car and walked him up to the door where Wichita was waiting. After they were all inside, she closed the door, deadbolting it and nailing a few planks of wood across the door frame.

Tallahassee half-dragged, half-carried Columbus into the closest bedroom and gently laid him out across the rumpled sheets. It was dark, the only light coming in through a hallway closet and casting long shadows across the room. He flipped on a lamp near the side of the bed and looked down at the younger man's back once more. It didn't look any better than it had before, in fact, it looked worse. "Jesus kid..." He muttered, brushing a gentle hand over the uninjured parts of his arm.

"Your bed-side manner could use some work..." Columbus mumbled, his voice a bit slurred from laying on the bed. Or maybe that was the blood loss. Tallahassee wasn't sure but he didn't like it.

Wichita appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, a bowl of water in one hand and their first aid kit in the other. She walked in and set it next to the bed, stepping into the bathroom to grab a washcloth. She returned with a washcloth and an empty bath product jar for him to put the broken glass in. Not waiting for an invitation, she sat down on the floor next to the bed and dipped the washcloth into the water. "We need to wipe the blood away, it'll be easier to see the glass." She explained, looking between Tallahassee and Columbus.

The older man nodded silently and pulled a hunting knife from his pocket. He sliced the back of Columbus' already shredded shirt down the middle and peeled it away, exposing the damaged skin beneath. He bit his tongue to keep from cursing again. None of the cuts looked deep enough to cause any serious damage but there were a lot of them and there was a lot of glass to pick out.

Wichita let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and sat up on her knees, gently wringing the wash cloth out over Columbus' back and letting the water rinse away some of the blood. The younger man cringed, shrinking in on himself a bit, but Tallahassee took his hand and gave it light squeeze. "Its okay...I gotcha..." He stayed silent as Wichita carefully washed away the blood, keeping his face expressionless as Columbus squeezed his hand hard enough to make the bones rub together. The younger man hid his face in the the sheets, trying his best not to whimper as the water mixed with his blood and dripped down onto the mattress.

Once most of the blood ahd been washed away, Wichita handed Tallahassee a pair of tweezers and took over where he left off, holding Columbus' hand while the glass was being carefully but painfully pulled out of his back and shoulders. Tallahassee worked quickly, being careful not to make it worse but trying to make it as painless as possible by pulling the glass out fast. It didn't seem to be helping much.

Columbus gasped and yelped with each shard that was pulled loose, his grip on Wichita's hand and the bedsheets so tight it was turning his knuckles white. Wichita shushed him softly, humming a song she couldn't remember the name of in an attempt to calm him down. Eventually, Columbus' body gave up the fight to stay conscious through the glass removal and he passed out; whether it was pain or blood loss, Tallahassee still wasn't sure but he still didn't like it either. Pausing what he was doing for a second, he reached down and pressed his fingers to the side of the younger man's neck, relieved to feel a somewhat fast yet steady pulse against his fingertips. He let out a sigh and went back to removing the glass from the younger man's back, dropping each bloody, broken piece into the jar.

It took nearly an hour before all of the glass was removed and there was nothing but bloody gashes to deal with. While Wichita cleaned away the rest of the blood, Tallahassee rummaged into the first aid kit and pulled out a suture kit for some of the deeper cuts. There were only a few that were deep enough to definitely need stitches and they weren't very long. The rest would probably be fine with just a light banadage but they would definitely scar, there was no getting around that. Taking a deep breath and with forcefully steady hands, Tallahassee began stitching the deeper wounds closed.

When he was satisfied with his work, he grabbed a few of the bandages from the kit and carefully cleaned and covered the wounds the remaining wounds. Nearly all of Columbus' back was covered by the time he was done, the injured skin hiding beneath a layer of gauze and tape. He was still unconscious, which was probably for the better, and Tallahassee let his hand linger on an uncovered part of his shoulder for a few seconds. "God...I'm such an idiot..." He muttered, looking down at the unconscious young man affectionately. When he first met him, Tallahassee had been absolultely convinced the kid wasn't worth his weight in shit, that it must be some sort of cruel cosmic joke that he would get stuck with the jumpy, irritating ex-college student. Now, he couldn't imagine a world without him and that thought alone terrified him more than he wanted to admit.

"Yeah, you are..." Wichita's voice broke him out of his reverie and he looked up. She shrugged slightly before continuing. "You're an idiot for letting him get hurt but Columbus would follow you to the ends of the Earth if you asked him. You mean a lot to him..." She faded off a bit and he thought there was almost a look of regret on her face. "I just hope the feeling is mutual..."

"Oh, its more than mutual..." Tallahassee muttered, his fingers dragging through the dark curls slowly. "I don't know what I would do without him..." The last part was almost a whisper but Wichita heard it loud and clear.

She smiled slightly and stood, grabbing the bowl filled with now bloody water and dropping the wash cloth into it. "Good, because if anything like this happens again I'm breaking your legs." She tossed a wink over one shoulder and walked to the door, meeting Little Rock in the hallway.

Tallahassee looked back down at the younger man, his fingers still carding through his hair. "Jeez...what the hell am I gonna do with you, kid?" He asked to no one in particular, settling in for the vigil he knew he would have no problem keeping.

Columbus stirred a bit, a soft noise catching in the back of his throat. Tallahassee reached out and pressed his hand to the boy's face, thumb brushing gently along his cheekbone. "Shh...I'm right here..." He soothed, smiling a bit as Columbus relaxed back into painless oblivion. The next few days were going to be Hell but he was going to do everything in his power to keep it from getting worse. "I'm right here...I gotcha..."

* * *

**Poor Columbus (I say that a lot but it doesn't change anything for him lol) Hope you guys enjoyed it! :D**


	13. Crash

**Hello all! This is for Taisi who suggested a car crash! I love it! Hope you guys do too! :D**

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Thunder rumbled distantly, a dull flash of lightning illuminating the blackening clouds overhead. The wind had picked up a bit over the past hour, the temperature dropping a few degrees with the ever increasing blanket of clouds. A soft patter of rain began to fall, splattering across the windshield only to be swept away by the windshield wipers. There was another roll of thunder high above them and the rain began to fall faster, heavy, round drops bursting on the glass on impact.

"Looks like we're in for a storm..." Tallahassee muttered to himself more than anyone, craning his neck to look out into the angry clouds above.

"Tropical humidity." Columbus said beside him, blinking up into the sky as well. "This close to the coast, the humidity and heat build up and create last afternoon storms like this."

Tallahassee just rolled his eyes. Leave it to the kid to come up with a textbook explanation for everything. "Thanks for the newsflash, genius." He muttered as he turned the windshield wipers up a little more. This rain was definitely going to get worse before it got better.

Columbus shrugged slightly, keeping his eyes glued out the window. "Just saying..." He said, letting the sentence fade into silence. Things had been tense between them for a couple of days and, like the storm outside, it didn't look like it was going to get any better for a while yet. The girls had split again, neither of them knew where this time, and both of them blamed the other for their disappearance. Wichita and Tallahassee had always been one step from drawing each others blood but Monday put all of that to shame. The argument had started off small, something stupid probably, and had escalated into a full blown war of the words before it was all over with. Little Rock had been asleep and Columbus had been upstairs in the shower so neither knew what the argument was about but it was abundantly clear that someone had crossed a line. Wichita snatched Little Rock out of the bed and took the car, driving off before either men could say anything else. They didn't say where they were going and it didn't really matter, following them would have just made things worse.

Columbus was pissed at Tallahassee for starting the argument (though the older man insisted Wichita had started it) and Tallahassee was pissed at him for taking her side when he didn't know the basis for the argument in the first place. Even though Columbus and Wichita had broken up months ago and he and and the kid had been sleeping together ever since, Tallahassee was still convinced that Columbus preferred the brunette over him. Columbus argued that that wasn't true and another argument had ensued. There had been considerable tension between them ever since; one-worded answers, only speaking when spoken to, ignoring each other for the most part. It was getting old but neither were quite ready to admit they were wrong.

Lightning crashed above them, illuminating the sky brilliantly. The rain increased, splattering over the windshield with renewed force and streaking the glass with water. Tallahassee squinted through the glass, trying to see the stormy road in front of him. Water was sloshing into the ditches on either side of the road, filling them with muddy water and scattering leaves from the trees above. There was another flash of lightning and something above the road snapped with a loud, twisting crack. There was a shuddering give and a large tree branch, easy the size of the truck they were in came crashing to the ground.

Tallahassee swerved suddenly, the tires screeching over the wet pavement and not gaining any purchase. They spun uselessly, kicking up water on either side, before giving out completely and sending them into a tale-spin. "Shit...!" Tallahassee growled, desperately trying to keep control of the steering wheel. The truck spun more violently and he lost his grip, the wheel spinning free from his hands. He caught Columbus' eyes, wide with panic, just before the truck flipped into the ditch. There was a crash of metal hitting earth, a sharp cry, and the sound of glass shattering before everything went dark.

**OOOOO**

Tallahassee blinked slowly, wincing as the very motion of opening his eyes caused his head to throb. He could feel water trickling down the sides of his face, or maybe it was blood? He wasn't sure but everything hurt. The storm was still raging outside, angrily tossing the trees around with the force of the wind. Thunder rumbled again and if it were possible, Tallahassee would have shot it for being so annoying. Columbus would have probably said something stupid about not being able to shoot clouds because they were made up of condensed water droplets or something brainy like that. Speaking of...Tallahassee turned slightly, looking across the seat to his passenger. "Shit! Columbus!"

The younger man was slumped against the crunched metal of the truck, his eyes closed and wet hair clinging to his face. The passenger-side window had shattered, water gushing into the open cab and soaking him to the bone. Even though he'd been wearing his seatbelt, there was a crack in the windshield, bloody and broken, from where he'd smacked his head against the unforgiving glass. Blood was running down his face in watery streams, dripping onto his shirt and staining it despite the presence of the ditch water. And he was so unbelievably still...

"Shit!" Tallahassee growled again, fighting with his seatbelt (an annoying habit he'd picked up from the kid) before finally giving up and slicing through it with his hunting knife. The seatbelt, however, was the only thing keeping him from sliding across the cab and crashing into Columbus, which he did the minute the belt was cut. His shoulder connected with Columbus' roughly and the kid moaned softly against the contact. Well, it was something...at least he knew he was alive.

"Columbus." He said, shifting so he was crouched in the water that was still flowing into the car. He reached out, cradling the younger man's face in his hands gently, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. "Hey kid, can you hear me?"

Columbus' eyes squeezed shut slightly and he struggled to open them. Finally, he managed to crack open his eyelids and looked up at Tallahassee, blinking as a stream of bloody water trickled down the side of his face. "Tall...?" He asked, his voice nearly inaudible over the sound of the storm. He looked confused, not entirely sure where he was or what had happened, and Tallahassee cursed the fact that he probably had a concussion. "Yeah kiddo, its me." He was already working at cutting through the seatbelt that pinned Columbus to the seat. "Listen, we need to get out of here. The rain's not stoppin' and the longer we stay in this ditch, the worse its going to get." He reached out, snaking an arm around Columbus' chest right as the seatbelt cut away and he slumped limply in the seat. Columbus gasped sharply, wincing when Tallahassee grabbed him, and clenching his jaw. Stopping immediately, Tallahassee looked down at the younger man. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Ribs..." Columbus gasped, shifting a bit in Tallahassee's grip. "Ahh...I think something's broken..." He face was pale, the blood standing out starkly against the whiteness of his skin.

Tallahassee cursed softly, even with the seatbelt the kid wasn't able to avoid the damage. "I'm sorry..." He whispered, tightening his grip a little lower and pulling him up and away from the broken window. "You can bitch at me for it later. Right now, we gotta move..."

Keeping a firm yet gentle grip around the younger man, Tallahassee wiggled and shifted his way to the driver-side door, pushing it open roughly with his free arm. The wind threatened to slam it closed once more but Tallahassee braced against it with his shoulder, keeping it open and pulling both he and Columbus out of the trashed truck. They landed on the soggy grass heavily, Columbus gasping sharply as he made contact with the ground. He had definitely taken the worst of the crash.

Tallahassee looped an arm around his shoulders and stood slowly, keeping Columbus pressed against his side. "Think you can walk?" He asked, taking in the pale, shivering ex-college student beside him uncertainly.

"Yeah..." Columbus assured him but the way he swayed and tipped dangerously on his feet suggested otherwise.

The last thing he needed was for the kid to fall again and make his injuries worse, so with quick, careful actions, Tallahassee scooped Columbus over one shoulder, careful not to injure his ribs anymore than necessary. He kept his arms wrapped around Columbus' knees and walked slowly, trying to see through the gusts of wind and rain. There was a dirt road a quarter mile up the street and with any luck a house wouldn't be too far away from that. He needed to get Columbus out of the rain or he'd be dealing with hypothermia on top of a head wound and broken bones.

The dirt road twisted away from the main highway slightly, leading into an overgrowth of trees. Normally, he'd be cautious of entering such a dangerous place but there didn't really seem to be any other options right then. Columbus was bleeding, the storm was getting worse, and their truck was trashed...dirt road it was.

A tiny house appeared just within the grove of trees, white paint peeling and porch made of decaying wood. The windows had been boarded up and thick padlocks had been placed on the doors. Either the previous occupants had been prepared for hurricanes or zombies, Tallahassee wasn't sure which and it didn't matter, he was just happy for the house. He scoped the area carefully, satisfied when no ravenous cannibals ran out to greet them, and made his way up to the rotting porch. The wooden planks held their combined weight well enough and he managed to break the locks with a few strikes. He stumbled inside clumsily as a new gust of wind hit him in the back. Had he not been so afraid of dropping Columbus, he would have let it knock him over into the living room of the house.

The room smelled musty with age and water damage; there was no telling how long it had been abandoned or if the occupants had ever planned to return but it would work for now. There was a dusty couch and a small table in the living room along with a few worn chairs. The rest of the house was dark, boarded up solidly against the weather and the zombie apocalypse. Still, airing on the safe side, Tallahassee gently lowered Columbus onto the couch and drew his gun, checking each room carefully before he was satisfied that they really were the only two there.

Re-holstering his gun, he went into the bathroom and began rummaging through the cabinets for any kind of first aid kit. The previous occupants really had thought of everything in preparation for hurricane season/zombie uprising: not only did he find a fully stocked first aid kit but there was also bottled water, canned food, thermal blankets, an emergency radio, and enough flashlights to light up a small town. Grabbing a few of the blankets, the first aid kit, and a lantern from the pile of flashlights on the ground, he made his way back into the living room.

Columbus was exactly where he'd left him, shivering and pale on the couch. Laying his findings out on the table next to the couch, Tallahassee knelt down next to him, gently stroking away the dripping hair from the kid's face. He flipped on the lantern (thank God for batteries) and looked down at the younger man. "You always manage to get yourself into some kind of trouble..." He muttered softly, brushing his thumb lightly over the split flesh at the kid's hairline. The cuts weren't deep but there was a knot the size of a golf ball marring his forehead and it was enough to convince him that Columbus did indeed have a concussion.

Columbus winced a bit as the older man's fingers made contact with the tender bump, sending a dull shock wave of pain through his head and down into his neck. "Do you think we're okay here?" He asked softly, blinking around at the darkness of the house.

Tallahassee nodded and began rummaging through the first aid kit. "Yeah, all the windows and doors are locked up pretty tight..." He pulled out an antiseptic wipe from the kit and opened it, gently swabbing away some of the blood from Columbus' forehead. "I think we'll be okay for a while until we can figure out what to do."

Columbus nodded, falling silent and laying still as the older man tended to his wounds. The rain continued to beat against the roof and the boarded windows, pattering loudly with the gusts of the wind. Had their situation been different, it might have been nice. "I'm sorry..."

Tallahassee stopped, frowning down at the younger man. "Wha?"

"I'm sorry." Columbus repeated, shifting his gaze to Tallahassee's. "For being angry...for arguing..." He winced as he shifted causing his ribs to ache in protest. "For everything really..."

Tallahassee sighed softly and shook his head, resuming his cleaning. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry...I shouldn't have let things get this bad..." He faded off, placing a bandage over the cuts and moving down to unbutton Columbus' shirt. "I'm a jealous sonuvabitch, kid...little things tip me off and I guess it just got to a breaking point." He shrugged half-hearted and hissed softly through his teeth when he saw the ugly purple bruises on Columbus' side. Yep, broken ribs were definitely there.

"I know..." Columbus sucked in a sharp breath when cold hands slid over his chest, feeling for anymore breaks. "But you don't have to worry...I'd rather be with you than Wichita."

Tallahassee smiled softly and pulled away. "Well, if there was anyone in the world I'd rather survive a zombie apocalypse with, I'm glad its you."

Columbus smiled; for Tallahassee that was a definite compliment. Before he could voice his thoughts though, a sudden shiver rippled its way through him, shaking him to his core. The older man seemed to notice and frowned, stripping the remaining wet clothes off of Columbus and then doing the same to himself until they were both clad in nothing but their underwear. As gently as he could, Tallahassee slid onto the couch with Columbus, pulling him into his lap and cradling him in his arms. He pulled the thermal blanket over them, tucking it around them securely and making a cocoon around them. "You getting pneumonia is definitely not something I want to go through either, one near death experience per day is enough for me."

Columbus wasn't about to complain and instead snuggled a little more against the older man's chest, shifting slightly to keep the pressure off his broken ribs. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, listening to the rain and saying nothing. A few times, Tallahassee would shake him awake, making sure he didn't slip into a coma or anything else traumatic.

The rain died off after a few more hours but the rumble of thunder made it clear that the threat wasn't gone completely yet. Tallahassee looked down at the younger man snuggled in his arms, silently timing the even breaths and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The kid had fallen asleep about twenty minutes ago and Tallahassee was content to let him sleep, so long as he was there to make sure nothing happened. He knew he probably felt like death warmed over too so maybe sleep wasn't such a bad idea either.

Careful not to jostle the younger man too much, he snaked an arm out of the blanket cocoon and grabbed the emergency radio, turning it down low and switching through the frequencies. When he found the one he wanted, he pulled the walkie-talkie to his mouth and spoke in a soft, subdued tone. "Wichita..." He paused, not really expecting an answer but knowing it had gone through. "Look, I know I pissed you off and I'm sorry...we can hash all this out later. Columbus is hurt, I kinda flipped the truck earlier and he took the brunt of it and we could really use ya'll's help." Asking for help tasted like acid in his mouth but even he knew that they all stood a better chance of survival if they were all together. "Please...I know we've got our problems but I really need your help right now..." Thunder rumbled again, shaking the house a bit. "So uh...yeah...I guess that's about it..."

There was a crackle of silence, nothing filling the air but the sound of thunder. Tallahassee had almost given up when a voice came through the radio. "Where are you guys?" It sounded like Little Rock. At that moment, Tallahassee could have kissed both of them.

"Some little shit-hole shack in Mississippi. I don't know the exact road."

Another crackle of silence, this one a bit longer and it made him antsy. "We're in Florida, we'll be there by tomorrow. Just stay put." This time it was Wichita, her voice sharp and clipped, but they were coming.

Tallahassee smiled a bit and nodded though she couldn't see him. "We'll be here." He said before the other frequency was cut off and the house fell into silence again. Tallahassee tightened his grip on Columbus a bit, leaning back into the couch. He and Wichita could duke it out once they got here but for now they just had to ride out the storm. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he kinda missed the girls. Tucking the blanket around them a little more tightly, Tallahassee closed his eyes and simply listened to the wind outside.

* * *

**Woot! Okay, so this is going to be one of those weird two-part one-shots becuase I couldn't get the idea out of my head :P So guess what's next? Pneumonia! :D**


	14. Sick

**Ugh...sorry for the long update O.o Summer school wants my soul (literally -.-;) Hope you guys like it! :D**

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The girls had appeared on the front porch of the house he and Tallahassee were bunked in the next day a little after three. Little Rock latched onto the older man's waist like a leech for a few seconds before she let go and wandered into the living where Columbus was. Wichita and Tallahassee eyed each other for a few seconds, almost daring one another to say something stupid, but it passed and they moved back into the house.

Wichita crouched beside the couch, looking at the unevenbandages that covered the younger man's torso. She could see the faint outlines of a bruise just above the edge of the bandage, the skin an ugly purple. She'd only had one broken rib in her life and that was from a soccer game in middle school. Still, it wasn't something she was likely to forget and she knew the pain had to be a bitch. However, the more concerning thing was that Columbus had a fever and looked only slightly better than death warmed over. He was pale, his eyes red-rimmed and sunken in his face, and there was an unnatural flush on his cheeks that indicated illness. She touched his forehead lightly, almost jerking her hand away from the intense heat she found there. This was serious...

Columbus coughed deeply, a ragged, wet sound that shook him forcefully. He tried to sit up a little when Wichita crouched next to him but she placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from moving. The pressure in his lungs was painful, heavy and soffocating like someone sitting on his chest and he shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. He'd been trying to go back to sleep but the rattling gurgle of fluid in his lungs every time he took a deep breath not only woke him up but grossed him out as well. He could imagine the swirl of fluid, clinging to the lining of his lungs, and that image alone was enough to make him want to gag. That and the pain of the broken ribs just added to his discomfort.

Wichita stood up and walked over to Tallahassee, grabbing him by the arm and leading him away from the couch. She spoke softly, the way she had done the first time they met her and she convinced them Little Rock had been bitten. Tallahassee nodded a bit, looking back at the couch. Somehow over the night, Columbus had come down with a fever that was now slowly but steadily working its way through his body. They needed to get him out of this house and somewhere safer; anywhere closer to a pharmacy or a hospital that had medicine to take care of the fever and the fluid in his lungs.

With Witchita's help, Tallahassee managed to wrap an arm around the younger man's shoulders and pull him off the couch. Columbus hissed sharply, the sudden movement jostling his broken ribs and spreading fire through his chest. He gasped, triggering a coughing fit that nearly brought him to his knees. The other two kept a firm grip on him though, careful not to let him fall, and waited until the coughing fit passed. By the time it was over, Columbus was shaky, pale, and weaker than he had been before.

Between the two of them, they managed to get him to the door and outside onto the front porch. Little Rock was ahead of them, opening the back door of the Hummer and stepping to the side so they could deposit Columbus in the back seat. He mumbled something rather incoherently, probably due to the fever, and Tallahassee nodded slightly, resting his hand on the younger man's fever flushed cheek. Little Rock crawled in on the other side as Wichita got in behind the wheel and Tallahassee slid into the passenger seat next to her. With one final glance at the house, they pulled back onto the long abandoned road and made their way to the closest town.

**OOOOO**

Columbus was shivering harshly by the time they found a suitable house for the evening. It was about a block away from a pharmacy which was conveniently right next to a hospital. The took all the necessary precautions of boarding up the windows and checking the house for any unwanted, undead occupants before carrying the sick young man inside and gently dropping him on the bed. He was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, curly hair clinging to his forehead and glassy eyes looking around the new room in confusion.

Wichita handed a fully loaded shot gun to Little Rock, putting her in charge of the house and Columbus while she and Tallahassee made a medicine run. Whatever they had been mad about had gone to the wayside since one of their members was in danger. Tallahassee handed her a walkie-talkie as well, ruffling her hair slightly before following Wichita outside. Once they'd left, Little Rock locked the door behind them and returned to the bedroom where Columbus was.

He was shivering so forcefully the bed was vibrating beneath him and he gave her a questioning look when she sat back down on the bed next to him. Instead of answering, she pulled the blankets up to his chin, tucking them around him like her parents used to do when she was younger. She walked into the bathroom, running a washcloth under the faucet and wringing it out. Returning to the bedroom, she resumed her place next to the sick young man and gently placed the washcloth on his forehead. Columbus winced slightly at the cold contact but relaxed back against the pillows as the coolness swept through him, taking some of the heat with it.

Little Rock stayed beside him, carefully dabbing at his face and neck with the washcloth, trying to bring his fever down to a more manageable level. She hummed softly, a song she didn't really know the words to, but it was something Wichita always did for her when she was sick. It was a slow song, lilting and soft like a lullaby and she wasn't sure where her sister had ever heard it before. It was nice though and it always worked for her.

Columbus gave her a weak smile, still shivering a bit beneath her hands. "Thank you..." He said, suppressing a cough deep in his chest.

The younger girl smiled in return and nodded. "Anytime."

**OOOOO**

About thirty minutes passed before Wichita and Tallahassee knocked on the door, white plastic bags filled with drugs hanging from their wrists. They walked into the kitchen, dropping the bags onto the table and spilling their contents over the table top. There were boxes of cold/flu tablets, more painkillers than they could count (they swept the entire shelf into the bag), some tiny glass bottle filled with antibiotics, and ace bandages to re-wrap the broken ribs.

Tallahassee rummaged through the boxes of pills and found the ones he was looking for. It was a multi-symptom drug, designed to treat all kinds of problems, but it focused on chest congestion and he figured that was the best thing they could start off with. He opened the box, dropping a few of the pills into his hand and grabbing a bottle of water they'd swiped from the pharmacy as well.

Columbus blinked up at him when he sat down on the bed, shifting the younger man a tiny bit so he could pillow his head against his leg. He handed him the pills and the bottle of water, waiting for him to take them before setting the water on the table. The drugs had a fever reduscer but he was pretty sure something stronger would be in order later on. Columbus shifted a bit, looking up at him.

"Get some sleep, kid." Tallahassee whispered softly, stroking his fingers through the younger man's damp hair. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Columbus smiled slightly and nodded, snuggling against his leg. "Love you..." He muttered just before sleep took him and he was falling into nothingness.

Tallahassee smiled and nodded in return. "Love you too, kid."

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**Aww, fluff! Okay, so I changed it a bit; instead of him having pneumonia, he was just plain sick O.o **


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