"Ollie Day's official colors would be pink and brown. Like that hipster outfit I wore that one time we robbed that museum right next to the college," Ollie mused, then smoothed a hand through his tangled mess of curly hair. "And they'd have to be one day right after the other. If the world were still together, it'd be a whole two weeks off from school and work, and we'd have our own holiday anthems proclaiming how awesome and brilliant we are." The concept was ludicrous now, but fun and funny to think about.
That was something about Allie that Ollie had always envied, her memory and her ability to make up stories at the drop of a hat like she could. She was the perfect getaway master and he couldn't count the times that quick mind of hers had saved both of their asses. "I miss the old days," he muttered, though it was really needless. "I've tried to snag things from people now and it's just not the same. Everyone's like fifty times more guarded and over the past few weeks, my success rate has gone way down…" he hated admitting that, but it was true.
"But you're right. We wouldn't make as good a team if you weren't the brain."
"So, one of us in red and gold and the other in green and silver?" he asked seriously. "I have that red polo that you always liked." Some people would have thought that their affinity for dressing in one another's clothes was strange, but the way Ollie saw it, pairs of twin brothers or twin sisters did it all the time. So why couldn't they? They'd always been about envelope pushing anyway.
"Right, the stripper girl?" he asked in reference to Allie's friend Rae. "We're totally going to win, though. I don't care. Our Madonna medleys are always crowd pleasers, no matter where we go." Okay, that was a lie. But it didn't matter. They were Ollie and Allie pleasers, and that was all that really mattered. And this was exactly what Allie needed. He knew that she wanted to feel needed. And this was very, very needed.
He frowned as he looked at the pile of shirt as it clumped to the floor. "I know, Als. I love you too," he said, his voice laden with shame.
Ollie knew of his sister's fear of blood, and if he had been more aware, he'd have felt terribly guilty about making her deal with it right then. But he wasn't aware of the mess. "And it was that white Christmas tree too, the artificial one, remember? It looked so pretty. Except I still maintain that the star looked like it belonged at a rave. It was no less awesome, but… it was just ravey."
A smirk crossed his face when she decried his color choice. "Not even for me? Or not even for Bad Fashion Week?" That was an old tradition they used to have. The boring, holidayless time between Easter and the fourth of July was always broken up by Bad Fashion Week in mid-May, when they wore the worst possible outfits they could find.
Ollie held his hand out when she bandaged him, wincing a little bit in spite of himself. It hurt, he couldn't help it. "You're the best, Als."
Except, he winced unwillingly when the alcohol covered gauze pad touched his scraped back. It occurred to him, how lucky he was that no zombie gore had gotten into those wounds. He'd be in quarantine and possibly dead. He didn't feel the need to say that aloud, however. Allie would murder him. "Thanks for this, by the way."