Happy Birthday --- EP. 1
Black reader in mind
CW: the chapters are not going to be the entire episode, i just though it sounded cool, soft Joel, profanity, angst, gore ( TLOU type shit ), nice and happy in the beginning, then just fucking depressing, i cried while writing this, eventual NSFW
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
“Mhmmmph,” you groaned, squirming in your boyfriend’s arms.
Mindlessly, you patted your nightstand behind you, knocking over your earrings and a water bottle before remembering the alarm clock was on Joel’s side.
Fuck.
“Hon, the alarm,” you hummed, sleepily snuggling deeper into his chest.
He groaned, slamming his fist on the alarm and shutting it up, probably adding to the various dents the poor clock already had.
Without even opening his eyes, he threaded his arm back around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, a lazy smile playing on your lips.
“Good mornin’, baby. Happy birthday,” you yawned, placing a slow flurry of kisses on his jaw.
“Thank you,” Joel responded in a groggy rumble, him leaning down a little to grant you better access.
You take the opportunity to try and steal a kiss while he wass still sleepy, but an aggressive bang on the door snaps you out of it, and sobers up Joel instantly.
“(y/n)! We gotta make breakfast!” Sarah called from the other side, the sound of her running down the steps following soon after.
You follow through with the kiss anyway, cupping his cheek in your hand as you lean forward, him resting his hands on your waist to keep you sturdy.
“Shoot. It should be my birthday more often,” he cracked a smile, giving your hips a little squeeze.
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” you smirked, giving his ear a quick nip as you pulled away.
“After we’re done watchin’ movies with Sarah, I’m gettin’ Tommy to take her out and drive her around for a little bit. We’ll have the house all to ourselves.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” he smiled, giving you another kiss.
You were Joel’s wife of four years. Four wonderful and love-filled years.
And it all started in a doctor’s office.
You were a nurse and he had come into the clinic with a very bad and very large splinter in his hand.
A bit of flirting and a copay later, and the rest is history.
“Hopefully not. You still gotta get your present,” you cheesed, crawling off of him and standing up, giddily.
“Present? I told you not to get me nothin’,” Joel sighed, sitting up at the edge of the bed.
He made you promise, actually.
“I know, I know. But I remembered you talkin’ about how much you needed new work boots and saw them in the window and it just...happened,” you explained, pulling the brand new construction boots out from under the bed, holding them out for him to take.
He did, and examined them with a guilty look on his face.
“Baby, these must’ve cost a fortune. I’ll...I’ll pay you back once I get this job done an--.” “Joel Miller, you will do no such thing,” you quickly and curtly dismissed, poking your finger into his chest.
“This is your birthday gift and you will accept it whether you want to or not. You work too hard not to get something nice every once and a while.”
The man in front of you stood up from the bed, stepping forward and giving you a feather-light kiss on he forehead.
“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled.
...
“Hey, (y/n)? Where’s the pancake mix?” Sarah asked, staring at the empty spot in the cabinet where the pancake mix usually stood.
“I think Joel was ‘sposed to get it,” you answer, finishing up on the eggs. “Don’t worry about it. We can make him pancakes another time.”
She sighed, walking over to the pan with the bacon on it and turning off the burner.
“Then I think that’s everything,” she sighed.
“Perfect. Let’s start plating it up,” you smile, making Joel’s plate.
Sarah chuckled, taking a plate out the cabinet. “You make it sound like we’re a restaurant.”
“Shoot. Might as well be with how much we cook for these knuckleheads,” you joked, plopping some eggs and a few strips of bacon on a plate for Tommy.
“Who’s the knucklehead?” Joel asked as he came clomping down the steps, striding into the kitchen.
He threw an arm around your waist and pulled you close, placing a quick kiss on your cheek.
“No one, hon. Happy birthday,” you smiled, turning and giving him a fat kiss on the lips.
“We were gonna make you birthday pancakes but we don’t have any pancake mix,” Sarah chimed, smoothly taking her plate and plopping herself down at the table.
“Shit. I was ‘sposed to--. I’ll get some on the way back,” he sighed, grabbing a the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug.
“Ah, ah. Nope,” you dismissed, taking the mug out his hand and exchanging it for a glass of orange juice.
“Vitamin C. You need it if you’re gonna be working outside all day.”
Joel sighed, giving you a tired look before taking a swig of the juice.
You smiled and turned back to the stove, making your own plate now.
“You get your homework done?” Joel asked Sarah, discreetly switching the juice for coffee.
Sarah looked up from her plate with a deadpan.
“Fractions?”
She broke her serious face with a laugh, making the faintest trace of a smile draw at the corner of Joel’s lips.
“Go sit down and eat before you’re food gets cold,” you smiled, playfully shoving your husband towards his seat, one hand holding your plate.
The both of you walked over to the table and plopped down, Joel already starting to inhale his food.
“So, how old are you now?” Sarah asked, taking a sip of her juice.
“Thirty-six,” he answers.
“Gonna have to wear diapers soon,” she joked.
“Who says I don’t already?”
He paused his eating when he felt a crunch in his mouth, and pulled out a good sized piece of eggshell.
“Shell,” he cocked a brow, turning to Sarah.
She always beats the eggs, so it had to be her doing.
“Calcium,” you came to her defense, pushing the egg through your teeth with a smile.
Just then, Tommy came sauntering through the door.
“Hey!” he walked over to Joel and gave him a rough pat on the back. “You’re still alive, you old fucker.”
“Aw. He loves you,” Sarah teased.
“He’s dependent on me. Not the same,” Joel corrected.
“Sounds the same.”
“It’s definitely the same,” Tommy chimed from the kitchen, looking through the cabinets.
“You’re plate’s in the microwave, Tommy,” you chirped, taking a bite of your bacon.
“I thought we were having pancakes,” he frowned.
“We’ll pick you something up on the road. Concrete guys gonna be there?” Joel asked.
“Yeah, they said maybe,” he shrugged, stuffing his face with egg.
“Maybe? We can’t frame until we pour. We’re not getting paid until we frame,” Joel furrowed his brow, his Joel Line, as you so lovingly call it, creasing between his eyebrows.
“Well, we could bring someone else on and get the job done faster,” Tommy suggested.
“No, no. I’m not splittin’ this job. I barely wanna split it with you,” Joel dismissed, scooping up the last bit of his eggs. “We could do a double.”
“Literally? Today?” Sarah sighed, defeated.
“I know. I’d be done by nine. By nine, right?” he assured, turning to Tommy.
“...Yeah,” his brother, unconvincingly, nodded.
“I’ll bring back a cake. I promise,” Joel added.
“I got a half day today so we can hang out ‘til they get back. I think I got enough cash so we can order takeout. Chinese?” you chimed as you stood up, taking yours and Joel’s now empty plates.
“Totally!” Her eyes lit up.
Joel turned to you, concerned.
“Hon, you don’t gotta do that. I know you still got some debt you gotta pay of with your school and I don’t want you to--.” You cut off him with a quick peck on the lips.
“Relax. My debt can wait a day,” you smiled, walking over to place your dishes in the sink.
“...continued disturbances in Jakarta, but are advising U.S citizens--.” “Jakarta. Where is that? Middle East?” Joel interrupted the radio.
“Doesn’t ring a bell. It’s definitely a country. Or maybe part of Asia,” Tommy shrugged.
“Jakarta isn’t a country. Being part of Asia isn’t mutually exclusive with being a country, and in fact, it’s the capital of Indonesia,” Sarah corrected.
All the adults looked at each other, pleasantly surprised.
“Hope for us yet,” you winked at her, finishing washing the dishes.
“All right,” Joel sighed, checking the time on his phone. “Finish up quick and we’ll drop you off.”
“I’m still eating my eggshells,” Sarah chimed.
“You got seven minutes,” he stayed firm, standing up and walking his empty coffee mug to the sink.
That’s when you noticed.
“Hon, your shirt’s inside out,” you snickered, tugging at the tag that was sticking out.
He looked down at himself and realized the same thing, his arms deflating in annoyance.
“Shit,” he hissed, walking towards the bathroom.
Tommy chuckled, turning to you and Sarah. “He’s losin’ it.”
“Alright, I gotta get my scrubs on for work,” you sighed, checking the time on your watch as you walked over to Sarah.
“I’ll see you after school, alright?”
“Mhmm,” she nodded, mouth muffled with eggs.
“And here,” you added, discreetly handing her twenty dollars.
“Use that to get your dad something nice, alright? Don’t go too far and be careful.”
“I will,” she nodded, tucking the cash in her pocket.
"And don’t tell no one I gave you that,” you smiled, placing a quick peck on her cheek before running over to the stairs, nearly tripping trying to get up them.
...
“Jesus,” you sighed as you walked back into the house, plopping your purse on the coffee table.
Today had been beyond odd at the clinic.
Nearly every patient had come in with complaints about uncontrollable spasms. You asked each one what they had to eat in the last 48 hours, and every single one of them had at least one food that was flour based.
Even some of the doctors were being affected.
A good friend of yours got into a huge altercation with one of the patients, her rage seemingly coming out of nowhere.
Maybe there’s ‘sposed to be a recall for something.
But you knew that wasn’t right. You had never seen anything like this before.
Hell, when you left work, later than you were supposed to because of the sudden surge, there were still people pouring in with the same story.
You could feel it in your gut, like a heavy, sinking pit, that something was terribly wrong.
“Hey, (y/n),” Sarah smiled from the couch, closing her book.
“Hey, kiddo. Sorry I’m late. The clinic had to hold me back for a couple of patients,” you cheesed, walking over and giving her forehead a kiss.
You would have to save the thoughts for later.
“How was school?”
“Odd. There were a bunch of kids that kept twitching. And everyone was just kinda......out of it. Even some of the teachers,” she answered truthfully, placing her book down on the table.
“Yeah,” you nodded, peaking out the window curtain to see three fighter jets fly over the house.
“The same with me, too.”
Shit. That can’t be good.
The sound of the news in the background was making you even more anxious, so you quickly grabbed the remote and muted it.
Sarah turned to you with a surprised look, startled.
“Sorry. Guess I’m a little on edge. The stuff at the clinic’s got me jumpy,” you apologized, plopping down on the couch.
“D’ya know where your dad is?”
And almost on que, Joel walked through the door, him being home safe bringing a smile to your face.
Well....that and the thud of new construction boots being put to work.
“You locked the door for once. Good job,” he commended, tossing his keys into the bowl on the coffee table.
“Yeah,” Sarah looked down, deflated as she turned off the TV.
Joel plopped himself down between the two of you, laying his head back as he covered his eyes with a sigh.
“It’s 10,” Sarah reminded.
“I know. They gave us the wrong size for the headers,” he apologetically groaned.
Uncovering his eyes, he turned to both of you to see that you two of you were completely lost.
“That doesn’t mean anything to ya. I’m sorry.”
“Where’s the cake?” she added, Joel slumping at the mention of the word.
“Shit,” he hissed.
“C’mon, man,” Sarah groaned.
“I’ll get you a cake tomorrow,” he assured, leaning down to take off his boots.
“Swear, or you don’t get your present,” she smirked, making Joel’s head perk up.
“You got me a present?”
“Swear.”
“On my life.”
With the promise, Sarah smiled, pulling out a silver box from under one of the couch pillows.
“Wow,” Joel approved as she handed it to him, giving it a quick once over before opening.
Inside was Joel’s watch, but it was ticking.
It had been broken for as long as you’ve known him.
“I got it fixed,” she said proudly.
“Did you?” Joel teased, holding it up to his ear.
“What? I could’ve sworn he--.” The second she heard the tick, she pushed him away, the man bursting into laughter.
“That was lame. You’re lame.”
“I know,” he smiled, fastening it around his wrist. “Where’d you get the money for this?”
“Drugs. I sell hardcore drugs,” she shrugged.
“’S better than what I do,” he scoffed.
“It was only $20, which (y/n) gave to me.”
“Sarah!” you whisper-yelled, dropping your face in your hands.
“Oops. My bad,” she went wide eyed, covering her mouth.
Joel cocked his head over to you with a glare, like a parent scolding their child.
“Now before you get mad, technically she was the one who got the gift,” you smiled, putting your hands up in surrender.
“With the cash you gave her. I oughta take your wallet away right now,” he waved off.
“Never heard of someone taking a wallet to keep another fro spending money,” you playfully scoffed.
“Well you’re ‘bout to hear it today,” he smiled, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his lap, pretend patting you down.
“Jesus, Joel! That tickles!” you laughed, hating that your boyfriend knew all of your tickle spots.
“Wait, wait, wait! Before you guys get all lovey, I have one more present,” Sarah cheesed, digging behind the pillow again.
Joel turned to you, his scolding face back on.
“Don’t look at me,” you surrendered.
You didn’t know anything about this second present, and you didn’t give her any more cash than what you already did.
Out from behind the cushion, she pulled a DVD of the movie Curtis and Viper 2.
“Aw, shit,” you groaned, slumping back into Joel’s chest.
“Oh, shit! This is the one with the deleted scenes,” he beamed, snatching the case from her to give it a good look.
Joel has made you watch that movie countless times, with deleted scenes and without. You knew the entire script like the back of your hand.
“C’mon. Pop it in while it’s still your birthday,” Sarah rushed, Joel standing up to put the movie in the DVD player.
“Sarah, I am gonna haunt you for this for the rest of your days,” you playfully glared, chucking a pillow at the girl.
“So dramatic,” Joel teased, plopping back down on the couch.
“You love it,” you smirked, giving him a kiss as you nuzzled into his chest.
“It’s starting,” Sarah shushed, the movie intro music playing.
Joel turned to you with a devilish smirk, leaning down so his mouth was right outside your ear.
“Don’t forget what you told me this morning,” he whispered huskily, making a tinge of blush appear on your cheeks and a shiver run down your spine.
“How could I forget?” you whispered back.
“Shhhhhh!” Sarah roughly hushed
...
“Fuckin’ idiot,” Joel hissed under his breath, hanging up his phone.
You and Sarah had fallen asleep on him while watching the movie, but now he seemed upset.
“Hmmm? Whasa matter?” you groggily asked, lifting your head from his chest as you rubbed the sleep out your eye.
“I gotta bail Tommy out again,” he sighed, carefully moving Sarah’s head off his leg, as not to wake her.
“You’re kidding,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Wish I was,” he grumbled, standing up and putting his boots on.
“I’ll be right back. You think you can watch Sarah for me ‘til I do?”
“Of course,” you waved off, sitting up the right way against the couch.
Your mind suddenly transported you back to earlier today, with the crazed doctors, the spasming patients, the fighter jets.
Shit.
“Just be careful for me. Please. Somethin’ hasn’t been right with today.”
Joel turned to you, his angry face softening.
“Of course, darlin’,” he assured, leaning down to give you a quick forehead kiss.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
You nodded, begrudgingly, and he grabbed his keys, quickly walking out the door and locking it behind.
Looking down, you noticed Sarah had curled into you in her sleep, her head resting on your lap now.
And you decided to do the same thing.
Maybe some shut-eye’ll get me right.
...
You were awoken, yet again, by a loud boom, and the sound of Mercy, the neighbor’s dog, barking.
Your head shot up quick as a whistle, and you could feel Sarah starting to stir as well.
What the fuck was that?!
The sound of a helicopter zoomed overhead, and another explosion boomed in the distance, both shaking the house violently.
“What was that?!” Sarah fearfully asked, quickly sitting up.
“I don’t know,” you answered, standing up from the couch.
This couldn’t be good.
Explosions means bombs. And bombs mean shrapnel. And shrapnel in your kind of house means death.
We gotta get out of here now.
“Honey, you put on your shoes, okay? Your Converses,” you quickly ordered, speed walking over to the front door to throw on your Doc Martens.
They were the closest thing you had to combat boots.
“(y/n), where’s dad? What’s happening?” She panicked, following you to the shoe rack and starting to put on her purple Converses.
“You dad went to go bail your uncle out of jail,” you answered, looking down at your watch.
2:20
“They should’ve been back by now. But we gotta worry ‘bout ourselves for the time being, okay?”
She quickly nodded, and you grabbed your steel baseball bat from under the couch, gripping it tight as another helicopter whirred overhead.
Suddenly, Mercy banged on the sliding glass door, making Sarah scream.
You quickly turned, bat at the ready, only to see him simply scratching to get inside.
Sarah turned to the door, opening it and walking outside, much to your dismay.
“Sarah!” you exclaimed, running after her.
When you got out with her, a military grade helicopter flew overhead, it’s propellers almost deafening
“We gotta take Mercy back to the Adlers,” Sarah stated, the dog nuzzling between her legs.
You groaned, quickly weighing the options in your head.
The quicker we get the dog back, the quicker we get out of here.
“Fuck. Alright. We take him to the door, that’s it,” you rushed, pushing her by her back as she grabbed Mercy’s collar.
You only managed to make it two steps away from the door when the dog refused to get any closer.
“C’mon, boy. Go inside. It’s not safe out here,” Sarah pleaded, trying to pull the dog along.
But he whimpered and clawed at the ground, managing to wriggle his way out his collar and run off somewhere.
That’s when you noticed the noise.
It wasn’t a groaning or a moaning sound, but something hoarse.
And pained.
And non-human.
You looked inside the doorway, only to see the silhouette of Nana Adler standing deep inside the house.
Standing.
“OH, SHIT!”
Just then, Joel’s truck pulled up on the curb, Joel and Tommy jumping out the car.
“YOU TWO, GET IN THE TRUCK! RIGHT NOW!” he shouted, panicked as he grabbed Sarah’s arm, a large monkey wrench in his other hand.
That’s when Nana Adler loudly hissed, running out the house like a bat out of hell.
Heading straight for you.
“What do we do Joel?!” Tommy demanded, aiming his sniper rifle.
Everything began to slow down, and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t move a muscle.
You were frozen in fear, and the same thoughts kept running through your mind over and over.
Why was this happening? How was this happening? What in the actual fuck did that old woman turn into?
Without hesitation, Joel hit Nana upside the head with his wrench, killing her with a sickening crack.
You watched, completely shocked, as your husband stood over the dead woman, bloody wrench in hand.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Tommy, get her in the car now!” he ordered, pointing to Sarah, who stood there glassy eyed, just as, if not more, shocked.
Tommy nodded and rushed his niece into the car, the poor girl still too traumatized to speak.
“(y/n), we have got to go now!” Joel hurried running over to you and cupping your face in his hands.
“Joel, what’s happening?” you asked, tearfully, your voice hoarse and broken.
“I don’t know, baby, but it’s not just the Adlers. You’ve gotta stay strong for me. We’re gonna get you and our girl out of this,” he pleaded, giving you a couple frantic kisses on the head.
Suddenly, the lampposts began to explode, and you could hear Sarah’s scream of fright from the car.
This was no time to negotiate.
You nodded and quickly wiped your nose, turning around and running straight for the car.
Practically diving into the backseat.
“Joel! (y/n)! What’s going on?” Denise, your neighbor from across the street asked, walking outside with a flashlight.
She was a good friend, and you went over to her house often to chat.
“Denise, you get back inside the house! You lock your doors! Now!” Joel shouted.
“C’mon, c’mon, get in!” Tommy rushed, Joel quickly plopping himself in the passenger.
He slammed the door shut and Tommy took off, turning in the roundabout only to be met with Danny and Connie Adler running straight for the car.
“Put your seat belts on,” Tommy ordered as he rammed through the two, rolling over Connie with a disgusting thud.
“Jesus Christ, Joel!” Denise screamed.
You and Sarah turned around, watching Denise run to her aid before Danny jumped and attacked her.
“Denise!” you screamed, hand on the glass and tears in your eyes.
She had three kids. And a husband, too.
All of which are inside her house, waiting to face the same fate.
“You take 70--.” “71, I know,” Joel and Tommy conversated in the front, trying to find the best way to get out of dodge.
“Daddy--.” “We don’t know,” Joel answered, already knowing what she was going to ask.
“They’re saying it’s a virus. Some kind of parasite,” Tommy chimed.
“There is no parasite or virus known to man that can do shit like that,” you dismissed, holding onto Sarah tightly, the girl doing the same thing.
“Is it from terrorists?” she asked.
“We don’t--.” Joel stopped himself, not wanting to sound angry at his daughter.
He was just scared shitless.
He has to protect his family from some shit he doesn’t even know.
“We don’t know.”
“Are we sick?” she asked.
“Of course not,” Joel assured.
“Then why did things blow up?”
“No cellphone, no radio. Minute ago, newsman wouldn’t shut up,” Tommy hissed, clicking every radio station.
“How do you know?” Sarah chimed.
“What?”
“How do you know we’re not sick?”
“They’re saying it’s mostly people in the city. That’s why they got the highway blocked off,” Tommy answered, making the turn and driving past a house that was completely on fire.
“God. It’s Jimmy’s place.”
“The Adlers would take Nana into the city. To the hospital for stuff,” Sarah stated, looking down at the ground.
“That’s right. They would. That’s probably why,” Joel agreed.
Up ahead, a man, a woman, and a baby, were stuck on the side of the road, trying to flag you down.
And Tommy started to slow.
“What’re you doing?” Joel turned to Tommy, eyebrows furrowed.
“They got a kid, Joel,” Tommy sighed.
“So do we. Keep driving,” he spat, Tommy begrudgingly picking up speed.
“We could put them in the back,” Sarah sadly suggested, watching out the window as they drove past, the man screaming for help.
“We don’t know if they’re infected or not, honey,” you sniffled, quickly wiping your nose.
This was going against your oath and everything you ever stood for.
But all that good samaritan shit went out the window the moment your family was put in danger.
“Someone else’ll come along,” Joel assured.
You guys turned into the side entrance of the highway, only to see it bumper to bumper for as far as you could see.
“Shit! Everyone had the same fuckin’ idea,” Tommy hissed.
“Take the field. Cut across and pick up on the west side,” you said quickly.
“Across the field, got it,” Tommy nodded. “Hold on tight.”
He made a screeching turn, driving you four into the marshy field and cutting past the traffic.
And everything looked sweet for a moment, until the army could be spotted up ahead, blocking the other highway.
“Shit. It’s the fuckin’ army.”
“Isn’t that good?” Sarah asked.
“Good for them. They’re where we’re tryin’ to go,” you sighed.
“Just keep goin’. Head north,” Joel dismissed.
“Could be a lotta people,” Tommy winced.
“We can’t go south, we can’t go east, we can’t go west. Hell else are we ‘sposed ta go?” Joel asked sarcastically.
Just as they were talking out their escape route, an extremely low flying plane passed overhead, the sound of the engine practically making your ears bleed.
You quickly covered Sarah’s ears, not wanting her hearing to be affected, and Tommy drove you all into town, only to be cut off by the cops and forced down an alleyway.
People were screaming bloody murder, and running in all directions, frantically.
“Alright, keep goin’, keep goin’. We can--SHIT, TOMMY!” Joel shouted, a car on your left nearly T-boning you.
You quickly pulled Sarah into you to brace the impact, but Tommy sped up just in time, turning onto Main Street.
People were fighting, running, being eaten, all right before your eyes.
“Don’t look, honey,” you held Sarah’s head, pulling her into your chest to shield her eyes.
Suddenly, a horde of sick people burst from the movie theater, everyone screaming and running for their lives.
“TOMMY GO BACK!” you and Joel shouted.
Tommy threw the truck in reverse and began driving back the way you came, trying to avoid the sick in the middle of the road.
You turned around to look out the window, only to see a plane heading straight for the ground.
“Joel!” you exclaimed, eyes going wide.
“Holy shit! Move! MOVE!” Joel shouted.
“JOEL!” you screamed, clutching Sarah as tight as you could as the plane collided with the ground, causing a massive explosion and tipping over the truck.
...
You opened your eyes to an unspeakable pain in your left shoulder, turning to see the an incredibly large shard of glass lodged in it, your blood staining your blue scrubs red.
“AGGGGH!” you painfully groaned, desperately breathing yourself through it.
You turned to your right, only to see Sarah laying down on the ground, eyes wide and hyperventilating.
“Sarah, honey. I need you to stay calm and don’t move, okay?” you asked her calmly, using your good arm to rub her leg.
She turned her head to a man right outside the broken window, devouring a dead body.
“Don’t look, honey, okay? Look at me,” you smiled, continuing to rub her leg.
“(y/n). Shit. Baby, your shoulder,” Joel crawled over, about to help you.
“Joel Miller, don’t you dare help me. Get Sarah. Her ankle’s broken,” you ordered, noticing the bone bulging as you were rubbing her leg.
He nodded and grabbed her out first, you following behind by crawling, cutting your hands and arms on glass, metal, and everything in between.
By the time you stood up, your arms looked like tomatoes.
And not in a good way.
You grabbed the glass in your shoulder, cutting your hand even more as you pulled it out, muffling your scream of pain on your lip.
“(y/n)! Shit! Are you alright?” Joel looked at you painfully.
“I’ll be fine,” you gulped, tearing off the flare of your pant leg and making a makeshift bandage for your shoulder.
“We gotta get off the street!” Tommy shouted from the other side of the car.
Suddenly, a cop car rammed into the truck, separating the three of you and Tommy.
“Tommy! Tommy! TOMMY!” Joel called for his brother, finding a break in the fire to see him on the other side.
“Head to the river! I’ll find a way! Get them outta here!” he answered back.
Joel nodded, fixing his grip on Sarah. “You keep your eyes on me, ya hear? Don’t look no where else.”
She nodded, and he turned to you. “Baby, stay close, okay?”
You nodded, too.
And with that, the three of you ran like hell down the alley.
Only to be met with a bunch of writhing sick people on the ground.
That is, until one perked up its head, its eyes trained on you three.
“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath.
Joel quickly turned around and you followed, the both of you running towards the door to a building.
He kicked it down and you sprinted through it, coming out the back room and into the dining area, where the sick man tried to jump on you, but missed and crashed into a cart.
Joel kicked open the front door, too, which led to the beach. But the sick man was still close behind.
He was just a hair away from you went the sound of a gunshot rang through the air, bringing the growls and snarls to a stop.
You quickly turned around, looked down to see the sick man on the ground, dead as a doorknob.
Headshot.
You grabbed onto Joel’s shirt for dear life, shaking in fear.
You nearly died for the third time tonight.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe,” Joel panted.
“Don’t move!” a random soldier shouted, the light of his gun flashing in your eyes.
“My daughter’s hurt. Her ankle. My wife, too,” Joel stated, taking a small step forward.
“Stop right there!” the soldier shouted, holding his gun at the ready.
“Okay,” he nodded, freeing up one of his hands to push you behind him.
“Easy now. We’re not sick!”
The soldier lowered his weapon, grabbing the comm on his shoulder and holding it down. “I got three civilians by the river, two of ‘em injured.”
He paused for a moment.
“One’s an ankle and one looks to be a shoulder.”
“What about Uncle Tommy?” Sarah asked, breathless.
“We’re gonna get you somewhere safe first. Then we’ll go back for him, okay?” Joel assured.
“I’m sorry, repeat,” the soldier asked.
The silence was loud, and your heart beat faster than it already was when he raised his gun again.
“Yes, sir.” ... “Yes, sir.”
“We’re not sick,” Joel said helplessly, confused.
The soldier got closer, and you gripped onto Joel tighter.
“Sir, we are not--!” The gunshots went off, and you and Sarah screamed as the three of you rolled down the grassy hill.
You cut your head on a rock you rolled over, and fell right on top of your shoulder.
“ARRGGGH!” you screamed in pain, shaking as you held your shoulder.
You vision was becoming blurry, and you could feel the hot sting of blood rolling down the side of your head.
But the sound of Sarah’s whimpers of pain cut through clearly.
SARAH!
You sat up quickly, sending a wave of pain through your head, and turned to see the girl not too far away from you.
You crawled over to her, the sound of the gunshot in the background being no never mind to you as you realized Sarah had been shot in the stomach.
“Oh, God! Sarah!” you wailed, tears beginning to pour as you saw her frightened state.
She was clutching her stomach for dear life, and hyperventilating like crazy.
“It’s okay, baby! Everything’s gonna be okay!” You cried, placing your hands on her wound to keep pressure, her freaking out and clutching onto you.
“Mommy!” she gasped in pure agony, her nails digging into your arm.
“I know, baby, I’m so sorry!” you hiccuped. “Oh, God, Joel!”
“No, no. No,” Joel repeated to himself frantically as he crawled over, kneeling down next to his bleeding daughter.
“Okay, you’re okay. Everything’s alright, baby,” he tried to say as calmly as he could, trying to pick her up.
But she practically screamed and tried to push his arms away.
“I know, baby. I know. But I gotta get you up, okay? I gotta get you up,” Joel kept repeated, hooking his arms under her again and carefully easing her up, much to her dismay.
Her breathing was becoming more erratic, and her attempts to stop him weaker and weaker.
“Honey, it’s gonna be okay! We’re gonna get you help. We’re gonna get you help,” you tried to assure her, tucking a tuft of her hair behind her ear.
“Tommy, help me!” Joel shouted, turning to his brother.
But Tommy didn’t move an inch, tears in his eyes.
“Joel,” he said sadly, barely below a whisper.
“C’mon, babygirl, I gotta get you up,” Joel repeated, trying to pick her up again.
But you realized she was limp.
She stopped struggling. She stopped breathing.
She just...stopped.
“No. No, no, no. SARAH!” you screamed, stroking her hair again to try and see if that would get her back.
But it didn’t.
She was gone.
You sobbed, falling into Joel’s shoulder as he rocked her back and forth, tears streaming down his cheeks.
You loved Sarah like a daughter, and considered her as such, too.
The love you had grown for her was something that held a large space in your heart.
And now she was gone.
Your partner in crime.
Your confidant.
Your best friend.
Your daughter.
Gone.
...
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