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Come Home Chapter Twenty Four

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 4,219

The aftermath of the dam attack.

Warnings for blood, death, violence...and without giving too much away, one very happy Joel.

Come Home

Chapter Twenty Four - Blows Me Away

For a moment you and Joel look at each other in shock, then overwhelming relief melts into his features and he scoots over to you quickly on his knees, embracing you in a one armed bear hug. You wrap your heavy, pain laden arms around him too and squeeze him tight, relief coursing through you until he twitches away from you, hissing in pain.

“What’s wrong?” you ask urgently, pulling back from him.

“Nothin’ that can’t wait,” he replies, his voice pinched and tight. “Fuck…I didn’t realise it was you…Christ, lemmie look at you.” His eyes are soft with concern, his fingers gentle as they tilt your head back and run gently over your definitely bruised neck. “Are you okay?” he asks shakily.

“Bit dazed. I will be though,” you answer shortly, and he nods, trusting that you would tell him if anything was seriously wrong.

He stands and helps you slowly to your feet. Your vision is still a little blurry and you cling on to him as you stand, dizziness coursing through you. In the distance, you hear the rumble of thunder and the room seems to grow even darker before your eyes, the storm that has been brewing all day making its final approach.

“We gotta get back to Maria,” you say in a low voice. “She was in the control room when I left her.” He nods.

“Who else is with you?”

“Three at the gate with the horses. Twelve inside working our way through. No Maydays over the radio so they’re probably okay. Maria told me to break off to take care of this one before he could see that we killed a couple more of them. How many are there?”

“Too many,” Joel growls, frowning his displeasure. “They got what’s left of us holed up in the supervisor’s office. Tommy told ‘em he’s got explosives in there, rigged the place to blow if they try to get in. He doesn’t but it bought us some time. I managed to climb out of a window, tried to take ‘em out sneakily. Got a few but I don’t know how many are left. We gotta get our people outta that room. You okay to keep goin’?” You nod, though your throat feels raw and achey and you’re still a little spaced out from your ordeal. “C’mon, then,” he says, firmly but not unkindly as he takes your hand.

You make your way back upstairs, through the control room and take up your previous hiding place that has now been vacated by Maria and the others. You risk a look around the pallets that disguise you, briefly catching sight of a group of seven raiders in various states of bored lounging outside a heavy looking door. You also catch sight of a flash of familiar blonde hair – Maria has advanced on them again and this time her gun is drawn. You see her sign toward someone out of your line of sight and the message is clear – take them out. Clearly, she is of the same mind as Joel and wants to release your people from where they have been pinned down. You withdraw back behind your protection and take your gun out too, giving Joel a meaningful look as you do. He draws his own weapon – a wicked looking pistol with a scope mounted on top, and his expression is all business as he nods firmly at you.

The first shot rings echoingly through the large room and is swiftly followed by a volley of additional gunfire. Keeping the pallet covering as much of you as you can, you raise your head above the parapet and take aim, shooting one of the men through his shoulder. Bloodspray fans over the concrete wall behind him as he drops his weapon and a second bullet that did you did not fire drops him permanently as it passes through his skull. You duck back behind your cover as a bullet whizzes over your head, smashing through the glass of the control room behind you. Angry and confused bellowing almost drowns out the sound of the gunshots, and you move to aim again to take advantage of their confusion.

“Scatter,” comes the screaming command from their leader below, and the remaining four that you can see do just that, scrambling away from the door they have been protecting and hiding themselves out of sight somewhere under your feet. Your bullet misses, hurtling through the air to plant itself harmlessly somewhere in the wall. If the raiders are moving, you need to too before they stumble upon you, so you grab Joel's arm and tug at him to follow you, hurriedly moving along the exposed parts of the gantry before you can be discovered.

“Am I glad to see you,” Maria whispers fervently as you join her. “Is Tommy-“

“He’s fine,” Joel assures her. “And now those assholes have left that door unprotected I’d say its about time to let our people outta there to take care of 'em.”

For all the initial element of surprise that the invaders had, the battle is short lived. Maria takes out another of their number when you move down to the lower level of the engine room and despite their attempts to snipe at you from behind the turbines, once you release your people from their confinement it’s close to being all over. Tommy’s face is as coldly furious as you have ever seen it as he steps through the door. He claps Joel on the shoulder in thanks and drags Maria into what looks like a bone-crushing hug before moving away with her through the dam, the sound of rapid gunfire following shortly afterward.

As Joel moves to follow them you stop him, grabbing his wrist so he turns to face you instead. The fact that you’re feeling more yourself after your near-death experience in combination with the adrenaline rushing through your body means that your head is much clearer than it was twenty minutes ago. And you have finally noticed the large, red, shiny stain on the sleeve of Joel’s shirt. In the brief breath of space you have in this moment, you need to make sure he’s not seriously injured.

“One sec. You sure you’re okay? That’s a lot of blood.”

“I’m okay. I promise. Nothin’ a bandage won’t fix.”

“Looks like more than a bandage job,” you say dubiously. “Might-“

The shot rings out almost at the exact same moment that you feel yourself savagely shoved aside. A searing, painful heat erupts along your ribs as a second, louder bang comes from alongside you. The wall stops you from falling to the ground as you as you stagger against it, still on your feet but with your knees trembling and your ears ringing madly. A hand on your arm and Joel’s anxious face appears in your line of vision. His mouth is moving but the noise in your ears is still too loud for you to hear him. His hands come to cup your face, his eyes searching yours for something you can’t quite understand. Slowly, so slowly, his voice percolates through.

“-heart, please. Tell me you’re okay.”

“Yeah…yeah. Just…loud.” You feel dazed again and realise you’re not making much sense. Joel’s hands leave your face to come to your side and you bite back a whimper as his palms rub over something which feels raw and tender.

“S’okay,” he says smoothly, and you recognise the tone he uses to calm the horses when they’re skittish. “You’re okay. Bullet grazed you. We’ll get you fixed up.”

“Fix you first,” you counter and he gives a tiny half smile, the first you’ve seen from him since the previous evening.

“We’ll patch each other up,” he promises, “but first we gotta get to the others. C’mon, lemmie help you.” He links your arm through his uninjured one and ensures you’re steady on your feet before walking through the engine room, following the trail of bodies left in the wake of the residents of Jackson.

By the time you reach the sleeping area it appears to already be all over. Dozens of people are standing in the space, their chattering voices raised excitedly over the heavy rain that is now lashing the windows. Tommy is in the midst of it all looking slightly harassed and when he spots Joel he comes over to hug him before releasing him swiftly upon hearing Joel’s noise of pain, much as you had.

“Come on,” he says decisively. “We got medical supplies back here. No one’s too badly hurt thank goodness, but the doc’s still gonna have her hands full when we get back.”

“We got ‘em all?” Joel asks, his voice sounding a little breathless.

“Damn fuckin’ right,” Tommy growls, his eyes flashing menacingly. “And we’ll make sure no one’ll fuckin’ dare try to pull this shit again.”

At his confirmation that the dam was indeed secure once more, Joel sags more heavily against you and you suddenly realise just how badly in pain he must be. You reach the triage area where people are being cleaned, bandaged and generally cared for, and deposit Joel gently on to a chair before fetching some supplies of your own to help him. He tries to faintly protest, vaguely muttering something about taking care of you first, but falls silent again at the stern look you give him.

“Can I say hello to you now?” he asks after a moment of watching you unwrap gauze and bandages, his voice hoarse with pain. Those big brown eyes are looking up at you and how can you ever resist? You lean down to brush your nose over his and place a tender, gentle kiss on his lips.

“Properly once I’ve patched you up,” you say gently, trying very hard not to let him hear how worried you are. You’re not sure if it works because he begins to undo his shirt without another word. The upper sleeve is slashed wide open, revealing his ripped t shirt underneath, and a large bloodstain covers most of the fabric from shoulder to elbow. He peels it away from his skin with a pained grunt and a horrible sticky sound and now you can see the large, jagged gash that runs the length of his tricep. It’s a nasty wound, but not life threatening and you feel the anxiety in your stomach begin to recede again.

“So…what happened, Miller? One of them cut you? Stray bullet?”

Joel looks sheepish. “Actually it was glass from a broken window. I had to dive in to a room in a hurry before one of ‘em could see me.”

“Hurts just the same,” you say matter of factly as you unpack the medkit. “And this is gonna be a bitch too. Sorry.”

“You do what you gotta do. But don’t forget, I’m returnin’ the favour in a minute.”

“I’ll try to be gentle,” you smile.

You quickly but thoroughly wash the wound out with iodine. Joel grunts and grimaces, his teeth bared, but he doesn’t make any kind of fuss. Once you’re done you cover the worst part of the gash with gauze and finally you wrap it up in clean bandages.

“That’ll do till the doc can see you. I think you might need stitches.”

“Lucky me,” he mutters sarcastically as he stands and guides you gently to sit where he has just vacated. “Let’s hope you don’t. Come on, let’s get that shirt off.” He gives you a muted half smile along with his flirting, but you can see the worry in his eyes.

The graze is just that, and you thank the heavens that Joel had spotted your assailant and pushed you out of the path of certain death. It still hurts, more so when he too cleans it out, but you manage to keep your discomfort to some vague grunting noises as he works on you with gentle, deft hands.

“Some first trip back out, huh?” he smiles up at you, his big dark eyes now full of relief now that he too knew you weren’t in any danger.

“Could have gone better,” you agree, absent-mindedly touching over your bruised and sore neck. “But could have gone a hell of a lot worse.”

“True,” he murmurs, leaning forward to capture your lips in a gentle, tender kiss. “I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

Unsurprisingly, Maria decides it would be best to leave additional bodies at the dam for the foreseeable future, and she isn’t short of volunteers. Though the immediate threat has been vanquished and there is a celebratory mood in the air, it is underpinned by a grim determination to not be caught short again, to bear in mind how precious and precarious all that Jackson is. You choose to remain, and are surprised when Joel volunteers too, having been certain he would want to get back to Ellie.

“Are you sure, Joel? You should get that arm seen to-“ you begin, but he cuts through you.

“I’m stayin’,” he says firmly. “The doc can look me over tomorrow. Jus’ check in with Ellie for me will ya?” he requests of Tommy, who nods his acceptance of the task.

While Joel showers you take a patrol with Chloe, who has opted to stay in order to check out the electrics and make sure that no unseen sabotage had occurred during the attack. She gives you a basic crash course in how everything works, her enthusiasm for her profession clear in how eagerly she talks about the subject and not dampened even a little by the pattering rain and thunder that punctuate her explanations. Thankfully, the dam is pretty intact, aside from some damage to doors and windows. While she assists to get everything back online, you help to drag the bodies of the interlopers to a relatively dry and sheltered spot outside of its walls where they are doused with oil and burned to nothing but ash and bone. Afterward you feel even more grimy and sweaty than before and decide that you could do with a shower as well.

When you return to the sleeping quarters Joel is lying on one of the bunks, his fists bunched on his chest, fast asleep and snoring softly. You look down at him for a while, his skin looking more tanned than usual in the stormy evening’s half light, some of his worry lines smoothed away in his relaxed state, his hair once more damp and slicked away from his face. You want to kiss him, stroke his face but you know he can’t have got much, if any, sleep last night and must be exhausted. Instead you take a blessedly lukewarm shower, allowing the tepid water to cool your overheated body and rinsing the grime and sweat and blood from you. As you allow the water to cascade over your skin, you utter words of silent gratitude in your mind. For Joel’s safety. For Jackson. For the continued presence of the dam and those who would protect it. Your mind turns to Chris and you have an odd sense of sad gratitude there too – that her loss enabled you to have all of this, and the tears of relief and sorrow you shed mix with the shower water and flow away.

The bunk next to the one Joel is occupying is vacant, and you begin to prepare it for your own rest. You don’t want to wake him, so you’re as quiet as you can be, but he stirs anyway as you shuffle the bedding and pillows around, cracking one eye open and humming sleepily.

“C’mere,” he husks, his voice low and sleep laden.

“You need rest,” you say softly as you go to him and stroke your hand softly over the greying scruff at his cheek.

“Sleep better with you. C’mere,” he insists again, and when you hesitate for a second longer he takes you by the wrist and drags you in to the tiny space, shuffling backward so his back is against the wall to give you more room in the bed.

You settle in, facing him and he laces his fingers with yours as he rests his hand on your leg. All you can see of him is the darkness of his facial hair standing stark against the relative paleness of his face, and his eyes glittering in the dim light.

“Thought I’d lost you,” he murmurs. “Didn’t even realise it was you at first, only that he wasn’t one of ours. Then when I saw your face…”

He trails off and you move your face closer to his to kiss his nose gently, the warmth of your bodies mingling now in the cool, damp night air.

“Thank you,” you say gratefully. “I didn’t have a chance to say it before.”

“I just wish I’d gotten there sooner,” he replies, his hand now coming to trace over the bruises on your neck again. “I should-“

You cut him off with another kiss. Bruises and cuts would heal. All that mattered was that you were here together, alive and uninfected.

“You should rest,” you repeat softly when you draw back from him again.

“Probably. But havin’ you here after what happened…I just wanna keep talkin’, you know?”

You understood. To have him back when it was entirely possible you could have lost him. You’d forgotten that feeling. You’d been away from the outside too long, even though it had only been a few months. And it was worse now. Far worse that you had something, someone to lose. But now wasn’t the time to talk about that. It was time for him to sleep so that you could ride out as early as possible to Jackson and get him to Doctor Graham. It seemed he was going to be stubborn about it, however. A wicked thought strikes you and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

“What?” he asks suspiciously. “I know that look. You’re up to somethin’.”

“Damn right,” you confirm as you reach up to pull the privacy sheet down over the side of the bunk. “If you won’t sleep, I’m gonna have to make you.”

The sheet has made everything in the tiny space pitch black now and the air suddenly seems a little more stifling. You disentangle your hand from his and stroke your fingers upward until you find the whiskery hair at his cheek again.

“Lie on your back,” you murmur before kissing him tenderly.

“What-“

“Just do it.”

He does, shuffling in an ungainly way until he is supine. You kiss him again before running your hand down his body, this time more firmly and with intent. When you reach his jeans you flip the button open and lower his fly quickly.

“Naughty,” he admonishes softly in the dark, his tone in no way actually disapproving of what you were doing.

“You want me to stop?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he replies and you can hear the smile on his face.

“Good,” you say smoothly before beginning to shuffle yourself down in the bed. Your positioning is not elegant – the tiny space doesn’t allow for much manoeuvring and the graze at your side throbs in protest at your movements – but you manage to wriggle down so you’re kneeling between his legs, your hands wandering up from his thighs to torso, an unseen smirk on your face at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

His t shirt is rucked up, fabric turning to skin just above his belly and you kiss the warmth expanse of flesh on show, feeling the softness of the hair there slowly turn coarser the lower you go. He smells amazing – the harsh chemical tang of the soap he had used softened by his own beautifully warm and masculine scent. You trail your hand down, stroking softly over the growing shape in his boxer briefs, and when you drag your lips down over the fabric he hisses softly in the darkness. You cup him, softly massaging while kissing his clothed cock from root to tip, a few drops of precum making a wet patch that you give a dainty lick to before you begin to free him.

“Wait-“ he whispers urgently.

“Hmmm?”

“You…I mean you’re gonna…”

“If you’ll let me.”

“But there’s…people. Around.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to be quiet, Miller.”

“Fuck” he hisses softly and you feel his hand stroke over your hair. “You sure?”

“Are you?” His cock is finally free and you kiss his tip, the warm stickiness already coating him smearing over your lips, and the stuttering breath he releases tells you all you need to know. You trail down the underside, barely touching him with your lips, Your breath is hot against his skin and you flatten your tongue to lick a wide strip from root to tip, feeling more than hearing his shuddering exhalation as you run it up the prominent vein there. You’d felt him in your hand before, but he seems so much bigger now as you take him in hand and swirl your tongue strongly over his head, savouring the sticky warmth that coats him.

“Been…a long…time,” he breathes raggedly. “I don’t know if I’ll-“

His words abruptly turn to a muted gasp as you slide your mouth down over his length, slowly bobbing lower and lower, testing how far you could take him. It had been a long time for you too and you hope you can make him feel as good as you wanted to. Give him a moment of bliss and relaxation, make his worries ebb away in the pleasure. His head reaches the back of your throat and you force yourself to still, to accept and to swallow around him. His breath comes like it’s been punched out of him, but his hands are still gentle as they stroke softly over your shoulders. You feel his thighs tremble beneath you, can feel the effort it’s taking for him not to buck up to seek more of the warm, wet heat of your mouth. As you begin to pull off him you hollow your cheeks, sucking firmly as you move back to his tip to lap there a little more.

“Good?” you murmur as you plant soft kisses upon him.

“F-fuck,” he breathes. “So good, sweetheart.”

Encouraged by his praise you begin to take him in your mouth again. He is thickening more already, and your hand pumps what you cannot easily take. You don’t know if it’s your own technique, that it’s been a long time for him, or the fact that he’s enjoying the prospect of doing this when there are other people so close, but he’s already starting to lose some of his self-control. His hands are gripping your shoulders a little more tightly and you gaze up at him in the darkness, not able to see much except the hollows of his eyes as they look upon you and of his mouth where it has fallen open.

You slide your unoccupied hand up his torso, brushing your fingers across the soft hair at his belly and his soft skin, now covered by a sheen of perspiration. As you run your nails down he releases a quiet moan and then covers your hand with his, pressing you more firmly against him. You take the hint and rake your nails more insistently and his hips begin to move, setting his desired rhythm that you fall into as you swallow him more deeply. He’s close - his cock swelling in your hand and mouth, his breath now with an edge of dampened moans as he attempts to keep himself quiet, and suddenly all softness is gone as he moves more forcefully, fucking himself into your fist and throat as he pulsates into you. Bitten off curses and half whispers of your name accompany the salty tang of his release as it coats your tongue, and you swallow the beautiful warmth of him down as his body slowly relaxes under you. You hear his head thump back against the pillow above you and take the time to gently suck his softening length, cleaning him of every last drop before kissing your way up his belly again and coming to rest with your head on his chest, his heart pounding wildly against your ear.

“Christ,” he mutters as he kisses the top of your head. “Fuck.”

“You sleepy enough to actually get some rest now?” you tease, your wide smile very evident in your voice.

“Mmmmm,” he rumbles, relaxing further back into the thin mattress and wrapping his arms around you. “I really am.”

“Then rest, Joel,” you whisper tenderly, sliding your hand under his t-shirt to feel his bare skin against yours.

“So good t’me,” he mumbles, his voice slack with impending sleep. “Luh you.”

Your eyes had been closing too, your body overwhelmed by the departure of so much adrenaline from the events of the day and the warm strength and comforting scent of Joel all around you, but at that they shoot open and your body stiffens.

“What did you say?” you whisper into the dark, but your only reply is a soft snoring.

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