Left 4 Dead/Left 4 Dead 2 One-Shots

Louis ~ Optimist

You trudged along behind the other members of your group, trying to keep up. But your heavy heart and negative mood slowed you down, as much as you didn't want to admit. You had hardly spoken, and although it didn't bother the others too much, Louis was beginning to think something bad had happened you didn't want to admit. 

Eventually, after your speed didn't increase (you had stayed behind the others the entire time since the last safe room), Louis fell back to join you. You hardly glanced at him, but he didn't expect much else.

"Is everything alright?" He asked.

"Not really," you sighed. He frowned.

"What's going on?"

"I guess I don't know, it's just..." You considered whether or not you should tell him what you were thinking. Louis looked at you expectantly, silently telling you he was open to listening to what you had to say. If he could, he wanted to do something to make you feel better. "Do you ever feel like it's hopeless?"

"What is?" He was happy you opened up, so he took the chance to understand what was happening, all the while hoping it wasn't anything incurable/impossible.

"This survival thing," you huffed, finally moving your head to look at him and keeping your gaze locked on his form.

"No, not really." Why did you think he was going to agree with you? He was an optimist, encouraging the group when it needed it (and didn't). Such non positive thoughts would never enter his mind!

"Well I do. I mean, we're in an airport for Pete's sake!" Your voice had risen in volume, and the others sent you a look for being too loud. You dropped your voice back down to a whisper. "We've been 'rescued' a couple times already, and each time we found ourselves no closer to actually getting out," you looked down. "Maybe there is no way out of this place," your eyes glanced at a dead infected body. "Maybe it's just a matter of how long you can hold out until you make a mistake and die."

"Don't think like that!" Louis shook his head. "We'll get out of here, the military will help us."

"But how long will that take?" Your eyes met his again. "Weeks? Months? Years?"

"I don't know when," he admitted, "but I do know if we keep trying, we'll be out of here soon." You lapsed into silence for a while, and the silence gave Bill the chance to hear a hunter and take it out before it could pounce. Then you ran a hand down your gun, watching your fingers as you spoke.

"How can you be so optimistic?" You asked.

"I don't know, I just am, I guess," he shrugged. "It motivates us to keep going, and who knows what would've happened if we gave up." He smiled at you, one you were amused to see as moments where any of you smiled were rare, and they usually occurred when rescue vehicles came.

"Huh." You had nothing else to say about that.

"Why are you so pessimistic?" He asked, starting up the conversation again.

"I guess everything finally caught up to me, the gravity of our situation so-to-speak." You walked silent for a second. "I'm not as naturally positive as you," you sent him a look.

"All you gotta do is look at the bright side," he picked up some pills he found on top of a counter. "These pills will come in useful later, and it's great to have extra supplies." He stashed it on his belt.

"That sounded so cheesy," you smiled.

"But you get my point," he rolled his eyes.

"You love pills?" He didn't bother to reply to that. "Sorry. Yes, I get your point. But what if a tank comes-"