He hadn't realised when he'd been Infected. He hadn't realised when he'd started to mutate.

He hadn't realised anything.

All he really knew of the world was being caught up in that mental hospital from fourteen. Violent fits and bizarre screaming, every one had said quietly. The other patients laughed at him when he was spooked and screamed inhumanely loudly, but when he got mad, and threw a chair, small table, or once, a medicinal cabinet, they would restrain him with the jacket and keep him in the padded cell. Just him, all alone…

Until the world turned to ruins.

He made his way carefully over the piles of rubble from used-to-be houses, because if he tripped over, he'd be as good as dead – He had no clue how to remove the straight jacket.

He took notice of four silhouettes. Human shadows, a female and three males. He knew he'd be dead if the four humans saw him, and screamed. He screamed and screamed until he heard the groaning, wailing and screeching of the horde – He couldn't fight, but he could scream, and that was his saving grace in a world where it was you – and no one else.

He never noticed he'd arose a sleeping Smoker and Hunter in a nearby house, he had no clue about it at all.

===----=-

===----=-

The Hunter bounced up from the bed, tying his hoodie around his bare waist – why did some goddamn Infected have to wake him up?!

"What is it, Sam?" the Smoker asked sleepily, pulling his greyish blue jeans on.

"It's a …. Well, the Survivors are here. They musta been alerted by that insane screaming just now. But what Infected can screech at such a high pitch? Goddamit…"

He turned round and faced his boyfriend, he'd never noticed how broad and toned his chest was, and turned another shade of pink.

"Eyes up here, love." Said the Smoker " Shall we go see what the fuss is, or would you prefer to sit here and – Well, do stuff?"

"I wanna see – with you…" He replied lovingly.

He gently clasped the older Infected's hand between his, careful to not scratch him with his claws.

"Okay then, let's go…" The words were spoken so softly and full of love that the slight scratchiness of the Smoker's voice was blended right out, as if it never existed.

----====----

He didn't know how it'd started, all he knew was, after running to safety inside a still well built house, there was fire – and lots of it. He curled up into a ball on the floor, he was terrified of fire and was too upset to move, his feet were rooted.

He didn't know the smoke was so dangerous to him; his throat had been rather sensitive since he gained echolation to rival and defeat the Hunter's, and was his major weak point.

Despite the blinding heat, he started to cry, his bangs framing his face as he tilted his head forward, tears dripping off his face.

"I-I don't want to die l-like this… Please, someone help me! I'm so scared."

----Outside---

Hunter stood by the burning building; it was the first thing he and Mark had noticed upon exiting their home into the murky morning sky.

"Mark! I – I think I hear someone in there!"

"If it's a survivor, never mind!" Called the Smoker, brow furrowed.

"Mark, we can't just abandon someone in trouble…"

Before Mark could respond to the plea, he felt a small white-hot explosion in his left shoulder. He looked up and saw a Survivor holding a pump shotgun, steam still escaping the barrel.

"Well well well, look what we got here. Time to die, you mealy mouthed bastard." Said the man, cocking the gun, ready to make the kill.

Sam could recognize the fear in Mark's eyes, the terror of knowing you were on your own, no way out – all you could hope for was a miracle.

Sam decided to be that miracle.

He stepped in front of Mark, the Smoker looking up at the Hunter's back.

The man lowered his gun ever so slightly, he recognized the Hunter.

"Oh, it's you again, you persistent little shit." He said with a hint of anger in his voice.

Hunter growled darkly at him, spreading his arms out to cover more of Mark from the Survivor.

The man once again raised his gun; his finger had nearly pulled the trigger when the screech rang out through the air.

"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME TO DIE!"

Another call pulled the man away from the Infected, running back to the other team-members.

"GET BACK OVER HERE, IT'S A TANK!!"

Sam turned around quickly, crouching down against the bleeding Smoker.

"Mark, I-I, I'm so sorry!" He choked out, filled with guilt.

He felt a hand on his arm, he looked up to see Mark's face, he was sweating slightly, and the pain was evident, but he smiled.

"It's okay…"

Sam turned his direction toward the building door, standing up slowly.

"Sam, what are you-"

"I'll be back – promise." He said, before dashing off into the blazing red and yellow.

"SAM!" The Smoker called after him, worry evident in his voice.

---====

The boy had nearly passed out from the fumes when he heard footsteps.

"IS ANYONE IN HERE!?" It cried loudly.

"M-me! I'm over here! Hey!" He called, trying to attract the Hunter's attention through the smoke.

Sam put a hand over his mouth, coughing as he located the person who needed rescue.

'Damn, I'm used to smoke but this is too thick for me, I gotta do this quickly.'

He threw an arm out towards the outline he could make out of the person he was saving.

"TAKE MY HAND!"

The boy choked back tears slightly.

"I can't! I've got a straightjacket on!"

Sam closed his eyes, pondering on what to do.

'I know it's risky….' He opened his eyes, ' …but I won't let an innocent person die!'

He ran through the fire…

----====

Mark watched while holding his breath, Sam had been in there a while, he was extremely worried.

'Please, just let him be okay, please…' He thought silently as tears threatened him.

A loud crash made him jump in startlement; the windows had been overcome with fire pressure and shattered, spraying the ground with glass.

"SAM!!" He cried out in horror, the tears had made their claim, and fell down his face.

He stood up shakily, hobbling over to the building, dragging one foot slightly; his left side had gone numb.

He vaguely saw two shadows exit the building, running, one figure thrown on the other's back.

The figure, which had been recognised as Sam, fell to his knees, before planting his face in the concrete, still holding tightly to the youngest male Infected.

Mark fell to his knees and wrapped his good arm around

the infected, cradling him gently, small gasps of happiness escaping him.

"Sam, you idiot…" He said softly, looking at the unconscious Hunter, he looked so cute like that…

---====

After being able to drag the unconscious Hunter and the survivor back to their house – thanking everything he could they lived close – he'd placed the two on their bed. He felt jealous the other one was sleeping with him, but what the hell? No point getting jealous of someone he just met.

The first one to recover was the new infected.

"Oh, good morning, miss." Said Mark chuckling.

"Uh? Huh…. W-where am I?" The kid asked dizzily.

"You're in my house – Mark Sanders by the way." He said, reaching a hand out to the boy just sitting up.

"Elliot Gun – Nice to meet you Mark."

Mark was shocked – stone cold shocked.

"Isn't Elliot a boy's name?"

"I-I am a boy!" He cried out, blushing.

'S…so cute….' Was all the flushed Smoker could think.

"I thought you were a girl, after all you do look pretty feminine…"

The infected scowled darkly at the Smoker.

".WANT!!!" He said.

Mark just looked confused this time – the infected was crazy…

"…Later, can we go to the hospital?" The young boy said, weirdly quiet.

"Why?"

"My…records are in there – I want to know more about me, all I can remember is being there…"

Mark nodded, this kid reminded him of Sam – a scared little Infected who wanted to know who he is.

"What infected type are you? You're way too pretty for a Smoker, you don't have fangs or claws like a Hunter, you ain't fat… or crying….or spitting, charging, riding, or nothin' like that – What are you?" Mark was bewildered by him.

"They called me a Screamer…."

"Well, I ain't seen one of you before, Screamer."

Elliot looked down at himself; he looked sort of odd – orange shorts and a straightjacket.

"C-can you remove my straightjacket? If I fall over I'm doomed –and it's really uncomfortable against my shirt." He asked looking cutely at the Smoker, pleading with his big brown eyes.

Smoker thought the kid was way too adorable, therefore decided to do as he asked, and ripped the jacket off him.

Elliot threw his pale arms out, differently toned from the rest of him; they must have had that jacket on him for a long time…

He was wearing a yellow turtleneck with long sleeves – adding to his feminine charm.

The Hunter turned and tossed in his sleep, Mark noticed, his face was pale and he was sweating a lot. Mark shook him roughly.

"Sam, wake up!" He called, trying to wake the Hunter who was currently having Night Terrors.

The Hunter's pale eyes slowly opened and he looked at the blurry figure of Mark. He leapt at the boy, wrapping his arms around his neck and burying his face in his shoulder, crying.

"I-I tho-though y-y-y-you'd –d-d-died!" He exclaimed.

Mark wrapped his own arms around the Hunter; happy the Hunter wasn't burying his face into the bandaged shoulder. He put one hand in his deep purple hair and pulled him up for a kiss-

-And was interrupted by a certain new infected.

"OOOH!" Elliot yelped, bright red. He hadn't experienced or seen anything romantic, and was flustered.

"I-it's you, the Infected I saved…" Sam said, looking at him.

"Elliot Gun – Screamer!" He exclaimed happily.

"E-Elliot? Isn't that a boys name?"

The Screamer huffed again.

"I AM A BOY!"

From next door, they heard a loud shriek – Elliot had just startled Sarah.

Mark and Sam both face palmed.

"I'm Sam Ashton." He said, trying to keep in a giggle.

Mark stood up, helping the other two from the bed.

"Let's go to this hospital now."

When they stepped foot in the hospital, the smells of detergent and cotton made Sam's head thump, despite the smell being rather weak.

Mark went to the crumbling reception, picking up a piece of faded paper, reading aloud.

"New entrees; I can't read the date, Elliot Gun –On transfer from Mercy Mental Asylum - 15 severe 3rd degrees burn on torso, not self inflicted.

Samuel .K. Ashton…." He trailed off after reading the name.

"I-I was in hospital?" He said, scared.

"…While awaiting transfer to…Mercy Mental Asylum… He suffered an unknown bite on his leg – we are doing everything we can to figure out what it is…"

Mark fell to his knees, clutching the paper tightly, tears falling from his eyes.

Sam rushed to him, and held him tightly.

"Mark, w-why are y-you crying? C'mon, talk to me!"

"I'm so sorry for you…" He whispered.

"Don't be, look at me, I'm here, I'm happy – do I look insane to you?"

Mark smiled and looked up at his lover.

"No…"

"It says I was kept in room 302, let's look there, kay?"

They turned back at the Screamer, he was wobbling.

"N-no, please – he started it, don't make me wear the jacket again!" He screamed, falling to his knees and putting his hands over his ears.

Mark lifted the Screamer into his arms, whispering soothing words until the pace made the young boy fall asleep.

------=====

Inside the room, Sam looked through various files, seeing what he could find that made him 'insane'. He came across a file.

Mark lifted his head; he heard a horde – most likely wanting to rip up the three specials.

Sam's eyes skitted over one sentence.

'Patient suffers from MPD – Multiple Personality Disorder- and Schizophrenia.'

He didn't hear Mark yelling at him to run, that the horde would kill them.

Everything in his world vanished in an instant…