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mothandpidgeon · 13 days

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The Outlaws (outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader) - Chapter 3

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SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ MDNI)

wc: 3.2k

summary: Wanted for murder with a bounty on your head, your only hope of escaping the Pinkerton detectives is an outlaw named Joel Miller and his sidekick Ellie. But Joel has other plans for you.

tags: old west au, enemies to lovers, grumpy Joel, handcuffed together, only one bed, riding a horse together, one mention of pee, hand touching, strip tease I guess, Tommy and Maria, morally grey characters, reader has backstory, moth never uses y/n

authors note: Been holding onto this chapter since I haven't finished the next one but I really want to share this with you! Thank you @ezrasbirdie for beta and helping me untangle this mess and being the wind beneath my wings.

There are six links in the chain that separate you from Joel Miller. You count them over and over again. As you lay awake by the dying campfire. When he rattles them just after dawn to rouse you from the sleep you’d finally fallen into. While you drink the rancid coffee he boils over the fire.

You imagine them leaving an imprint on Joel’s tanned neck. Red, purple, bruising his skin as you use it to choke him to death.

You spend the morning following him to and fro as he and Ellie pack up camp.

“You know how to whistle?” Ellie asks you.

She’s been sticking her forefinger and thumb between her lips trying to get a sound out of them.

“Afraid not,” you tell her.

“You’re with me,” Joel says. He stands beside his horse, hand on his hip.

“I have to wear this damn bracelet the whole way?” you ask.

He nods.

“Do you think I’m crazy enough I’d jump off a horse?” you ask.

His eyes rake up and down your body and you try to ignore the heat that flashes across your skin. “Yep.”

Once he’s in the saddle, he hauls you up behind him. Not like you have much choice.

“You go for my gun and—“

“I know, I know,” you tell him.

You have ample opportunity to study the outlaw, at least the back side of him, as you ride behind him. He’s broad and sits tall in the saddle like he was born for it. You watch his shoulders under the fabric of his shirt, tempted to smooth your palms over them. With your wrists connected, you’ve got to keep your hands at his middle. His narrow hips roll with the movements of the animal beneath him, and you grip onto his shirt imagining how powerful it would feel to take him from behind.

He barely acknowledges you. There are a couple of times when you rest your cheek against his back just because you know it’ll annoy him. It works. He looks over his shoulder at you and you can hear the grumble vibrate through his body.

The three of you ride all day, stopping only twice to stretch your legs. Both times, Joel helps you down with his hands on your waist. You shouldn’t enjoy it as much as you do but his hands are big and his eyes dart away from yours. He stops touching you as quick as he can, as if you’re a hot kettle that might burn his fingers.

Your amusement is short lived as you have to suffer the indignity of squatting behind a bush with your arm outstretched towards fucking Joel Miller while you take a piss.

It’s dusk when you reach your destination— an old two-story roadhouse with a sign that reads The Dusty Boot. There’s nothing else around but a barn, an outhouse, and open country. Seems like an ideal place to keep a hideout.

Joel hands you down from the saddle again but before you head inside, he rounds on you.

“Now listen here, missy,” he says. “When we go in there, you keep that trap shut. No talking about bounties or the like. Not a peep out of you. Understand?” Joel asks you.

You twist your pinched fingers in front of your lips as if you’re locking your mouth the same as your wrist is locked in that cuff. It’s a command you have absolutely no intention of following.

By the frown on his face, it seems he knows that.

“And you let me do the talking,” he tells Ellie.

“Maria’s got a stick up her ass,” she laughs.

“Ellie,” Joel scolds.

“You said it yourself!” she says.

Joel sighs and trudges forward, dragging you along with him.

The inside of the Boot is cozy and rustic. There’s a large parlor with a number of tables, the paneled walls are decorated with antlers and horse shoes. After a full day bouncing on horseback, you’d love to sit your ass down in one of the winged back chairs in front of the fireplace. Most importantly for your new companions, the place is empty. If there are other guests, they’re up in their rooms.

At one end of the room, a man in an apron with a rag thrown over his shoulder stands behind a modest bar.

“Hey, brother!” he calls, a smile lighting his face.

You can see a resemblance between the two men– the same dark eyes and tan complexion, though Joel’s has been kissed by the sun.

“Tommy?” you whisper to Ellie.

She nods.

Tommy’s as slim as Joel is broad and he looks a bit younger. If Joel ever bothered to smile maybe he’d lose a few years off his face, too.

“Been a while, stranger,” he says. “How’s it going, kid? Still giving him hell?”

“We need a place to lay low for a bit,” Joel says, cutting the pleasantries.

You’re not sure if Tommy’s disappointed that this isn’t a social call but he nods and says, “Yeah, alright. You gonna introduce me to your lady friend?”

Joel bristles at the suggestion that you might be anything other than his prisoner. You give a smile and lift your fingers to your brow as if to tip your hat. As you do, the chain rattles obnoxiously and Joel glares at you.

“What the hell, Joel!” Tommy’s jovial expression has transformed to a look of horror.

“She’s got a bounty on her. I’m taking her to Jackson,” Joel explains.

“Maria ain’t gonna be happy about that,” Tommy says.

“Isn’t going be happy about what?”

A lean woman has appeared at the top of the stairs. She stands tall, shoulders back with a cool air. Her simple, grey dress is neat and spotless just like, you note, the room around you.

Joel quickly takes his hat off. He nudges Ellie to do the same. He’s tense and you can’t tell if he resents this woman or he’s afraid of her. Maybe a little of both.

You like her.

She sighs heavily as she descends the steps.

“Tommy, please tell me I’m seeing things because it looks to me like your brother has a woman shackled to himself in my parlor,” she says.

“You ain’t,” Tommy replies. He sounds just as exasperated.

Maria sizes you up with a look that’s half pity, half disdain. She’s a beautiful woman. Deep brown skin and sharp, appraising eyes. You can only imagine what she thinks of you. A night sleeping in the dirt can’t have done you any favors and certainly neither did a day bouncing around on horseback.

“How’d she get that bruise, Joel?” Maria asks.

You stroke the spot on your face gently as though it really hurts. In truth, you’ve pretty much forgotten that it’s there.

“She came by it on her own,” Joel says.

“That true, darlin’?” Tommy asks you, his voice full of concern.

Joel’s face contorts in what you can only describe as disgust that his brother would think him capable of such a thing.

You give a noncommittal shrug.

“That’s courtesy of the Pinkerton man she was with before we picked her up. Joel gave him what for,” Ellie explains.

Tommy nods.

“We’re just wanting a couple nights to keep our heads down. Ain’t nothing we ain’t asked for before,” Joel says.

“That’s fine. If you unlock her,” Maria says.

“She’s a murderer. You want me to let her loose around your nice customers?” Joel asks.

“I’ve already got three criminals in here. What’s one more?” she says.

“Come on, Joel. Let her be,” Tommy says. “She ain’t gonna give you the slip. Are you, darlin’?”

“Well, if given the opportunity—“ you admit.

“Joel, take that damn cuff off her. And you,” Maria turns on you, “give him your word you won’t try to run while you’re under this roof. Or so help me god I will throw all three of you out.”

“The hell did I do?” Ellie asks.

You’re beginning to understand why you sensed fear on Joel. For a second there, you’re more afraid of enduring her wrath than you are facing the executioner.

“Yes, ma’am,” you say almost involuntarily.

“Shake on it,” Tommy suggests.

You extend your hand to Joel with a saccharine smile. Tommy’s obviously gone soft since he left the gang if he believes somebody like you would be beholden to a handshake promise. It’s sweetly naive.

Joel’s thinking the same thing. You can see it all over his face. He grinds his molars.

“You do what I say when I say it,” he insists.

“Sure thing, boss,” you say.

He shakes your hand.

Joel watches your every move.

He’s been wanting to get Tommy aside to talk but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes off you. You’re unleashed and eager to run and he’s not willing to lose his bounty just because his sister-in-law is so sanctimonious.

“Hey, Tommy. Why did the cowboy go to the doctor?” Ellie asks.

Evening has descended on the Boot. A stage coach pulls in for the night. Its two passengers take their supper at the bar while their driver warms his hands at the hearth. Ellie and Joel sit across from you in the corner, bowls of hot stew on the table. Hers is empty before Joel’s even managed to bring his spoon to his lips.

Joel notices things about you. He wishes he would stop noticing how attractive you are.

Your eyes are sharp and fast. He can tell you’re making note of anything and everything that might help you escape. You massage at your wrist which is now naked with delicate fingers. You lick your lips jealously when Tommy sets a whiskey down in front of his brother.

You don’t have good table manners. The way you stab at potatoes is particularly violent. You probably wish those tines were going into his eyeball.

“How come?” Tommy asks. He wipes his hands with his bar rag, eyes twinkling with delight.

“He was feeling a little hoarse!” Ellie cackles.

Joel shakes his head. The kid is a handful but she’s grown on him. Her puns have not.

He looks up to find you smirking. Not because you find the joke funny. No, you’re laughing at Joel.

He reaches across the table and puts his hand around yours. He shouldn’t touch you again, not since he shook your hand and felt the softness of your skin on his. He spent all day with you practically pressed against his back, getting hints of lavender each time he turned his head in your direction. Such a sweet scent for somebody like you. It’s been a long time since he felt the weight of a woman on him. His body doesn’t know that you’re as dangerous as a mountain lion and slippery as an eel. It just cares that you’re pretty and you’re closer than you ought to be. And it wants more of that.

Your muscles tense around the horn handle of your fork. Joel unwraps your fingers from the utensil, focusing on the task at hand not the feel of you under his fingertips or the wide eyed stare you give him. His heart is beating double time when he replaces your pointed fork with a spoon.

Your shoulders soften when he releases you. You remind yourself to sit up straight.

“Enough jokes,” Joel tells Ellie.

“He ain’t no fun,” Tommy laughs.

You continue to keep your big eyes on Joel as you finish your stew.

“That was good eating Miss Maria,” you say when she clears bowls from the table. “I don’t rightly remember the last time I had a proper meal.”

You’re a fool if you think you’ve got an ally in Maria. Just because she got you unlocked doesn’t mean she thinks you’re anything better than trash. Her daddy was a justice of the peace and she’s never taken kindly to criminals either. It still vexed him that she’d fallen for Tommy but then again she blamed Joel for all of his brother’s failings.

“I know a thing or two about cooking. I’d be happy to lend a hand,” you tell her.

Joel lets out a sharp laugh. Your voice is sweeter than Joel’s heard and you're laying it on thick buttering Maria up.

“What’s funny about that?” you demand.

“You don’t know a thing about cooking but I’m sure you’d like to get a knife in your hand,” Joel says.

“As a matter of fact, I do know how to cook. More than cowboy beans,” you spit.

“I appreciate the offer. It'd be nice to get a hand in the kitchen for once,” Maria says probably just to get a rise out of him.

“That’s too bad. I ain’t letting you out of my sight,” he says.

He stands, stretching out the sore muscles in his lower back.

“Got the front room for ya,” Tommy says. “I’m guessing you’re not looking to sleep in the common room.” He glances towards the other guests.

Joel and Ellie have stayed amongst the strangers in the big room on the second floor when the rest of the private accommodations are taken. With you ready to bolt, though, it’s not an option.

“I want my own room. Take it out of my share,” Ellie tells Joel when he gives her a stern look. “I’m sick of listening to you snore.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Maria says.

Despite her contempt for their criminal lifestyle, Maria dotes on Ellie. Like she’s leaving a saucer of milk out for a feral cat, hoping one day it’ll come inside to lay by the fire. “Tommy’ll set that up for you.”

“I’ll bunk with the kid,” you say.

“Nice try,” Joel says.

“Ain’t this cozy,” you say.

You’ve stepped into the room you’ll be sharing with Joel.

Cozy’s one way of putting it. There’s barely enough space to open the door without hitting the iron framed bed. Beside that is a night stand with a porcelain wash basin, a chair, and a window. There’s about two paces of open floor in either direction. It’s hardly big enough for the both of you.

But that works to Joel’s advantage. He doesn’t want you going far.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, he clamps the handcuff around your wrist once again.

“Come on now,” you whine. “What about our truce?”

“That’s for Maria’s benefit. And she ain’t here,” Joel says.

You’re well beyond arguing and rolling your eyes.

“Well you can’t expect me to sleep in these dirty clothes again. Can you at least give me my arm for a minute so I can get out of ‘em?” you ask.

Joel’s eyes travel over you and he swirls his tongue over his teeth. It’s not a difficult decision for him. If you want to undress and lay in bed in your underthings, he’s not going to stop you. He unlocks the cuff and moseys over to lean against the door. You’re not going to run out of there.

“You going to stand there and watch?” you ask, fingers pausing at the buttons on the top of your bodice.

Joel presses his shoulders against the door, making himself comfortable.

“How do I know you ain’t got a weapon in them petticoats?” he asks.

“If there was, you’d already be dead,” you say.

He lets out a chuckle.

“Suit yourself,” you say.

A cool smile comes over your features. You continue undoing the buttons as you turn towards him so he can see you straight on. Slowly, you reveal what’s underneath– the lines of your corset, a sweet ribbon at the top of your chemise, and an expanse of decolletage. You slide the bodice off of your shoulders and toss it onto the floor, then continue on to your skirts.

“That brother of yours is handsome,” you tell him. One skirt falls away. “Did he leave you for that woman or she come after that?”

Joel doesn’t answer. You don’t seem to care.

“She don’t like you,” you tease.

You square him with defiant eyes, inviting him to look, daring him to stay in control. More flesh is revealed. Your blue corset presses the swell of your breasts above the chemise and you bend forward to give him a little show. Ripe, soft. He salivates.

Joel tries not to enjoy himself too much. He shouldn’t. And not just because this could easily turn into a trap.

“She don’t like you neither,” he says.

You shrug.

He could have you any which way he wanted with just the promise of letting you go. He wouldn’t even have to do it. Just say the word and you’d get on your knees for him. It doesn’t feel right, though, taking advantage of somebody so desperate. So he just watches, trying to keep his features indifferent as each piece of frilly fabric hits the floorboards. He hooks his thumb into his gun belt, hoping that it might obscure the growing strain in his dungarees.

By the time you’re undoing the metal fasteners at the front of your corset, he’s biting down on the inside of his cheek. He tastes blood when there’s nothing more separating him from your body than a gauzy chemise and cotton drawers.

You go to the wash basin and splash water on your face and neck. Some droplets fall and make your chemise cling to your damp skin.Y ou moan happily, refreshed. The noise is obviously exaggerated but it still makes Joel ache.

You linger like that for a moment, lazily swaying your bare shoulders. Finally, you step towards Joel, crowding him against the door. The space between the two of you is hot and his breath shallows. He can see the outline of your peaked nipples beneath the flimsy material. The thought passes his mind again, how easy it would be to toss you back onto the mattress and help himself to all of you.

You raise your hand to him and for a moment, he’s forgotten what’s going on here. The sly grin on your lips tells him that you’re well aware of the effect your nearly naked body is having on him. He swallows and slips the cuff around you again. His knuckles graze the inside of your wrist as he locks it. Delicate, warm skin.

Pleased with yourself, you crawl onto the bed. Joel wills his cock to behave as he slips out of his boots and coat. He soaks his bandana in the wash basin and cools the back of his neck. Once he’s in his union suit, he sets his holster down on the floor beside his pillow and swings his legs into the bed. He locks himself to you and tucks the key next to his gun.

“Well ain’t this romantic,” you say from your spot against the wall. “Feels like my wedding night all over again.”

Joel stares at the ceiling. The bed’s a tight fit, his shoulders touch yours when he lays on his back. You’re leaned on your elbow smiling like the cat that ate the canary. He smells that lavender again.

He rolls onto his side, away from your leering. You laugh to yourself as he squeezes his eyes shut for a very long night.

Comments and reblogs always appreciated!

Chapter 4

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#outlaw!Joel Miller #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #ellie williams #tommy miller #maria tlou #tlou

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abbyshands · 3 months

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the urge to do a tess x maria x reader fic but…WHO’S GNA READ THAT 😒😒😒

#they never even met #but i’m so gay and they’re older women #they’d treat you so good #i’ll cry #kitlyn’s crazy ass ideas #i’d make a realistic plot i swear #tess tlou #tlou tess #maria miller #maria tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us smut #tlou2 smut

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steeb-stn · 9 months

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Love the idea that both Miller households are just. Constantly in and out of each other’s houses. Tommy letting himself in Joel’s front door just like it was 20 years ago. Ellie sitting at Tommy and Maria’s kitchen table drawing because their kitchen has perfect light. Baby Miller barging in to Joel and Ellie’s and shaking the walls down on Saturday mornings, looking for someone to play with. Another way Joel and Maria could break the ice: one day Joel stops by his house in the middle of the day because he forgot something, only to find Maria sitting in his living room floor, hiding from her toddler/a fellow council member/disgruntled townsfolk/her husband/all of the above. Joel awkwardly offers her something to drink and the rest is history. It becomes a regular thing because Joel will even lie for her if anyone comes asking where she is.

#Joel miller #tommy miller #maria tlou #Ellie williams #the last of us #miller family tlou #Joel doesnt invite himself in to tommys house until he and maria are on good terms #But once they are hes always coming over to borrow something he cant find #Or to steal their coffee bc hes out #Or to find his kid

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elliespuns · 13 days

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Maria: My water just broke Ellie: Don't worry about that, I'll just get you another one... OH, you mean your body water! That's much worse

#tlou #the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #maria miller #maria tlou #ellie and maria #the last of us game #tlou game #tlou incorrect quotes

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thetipsybison · 6 months

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My spirit animal

#the last of us #tlou2 #shimmer tlou #the last of us horse #ellie williams #joel miller #dina tlou #joel and ellie #jesse tlou #abby anderson #tommy miller #maria tlou #tess servopoulos #lev tlou #naughty dog

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a-little-bit-of-everybody · 9 days

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*runs into your feed and photo dumps tlou2 stuff*

YALL I CANT HELP IT TLOU WOMEN GOT ME IN A CHOKEHOLD (i wish 😔) LMAOO

#the last of us #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson #the last of us pt 2 #maria tlou #photomodetlou #WOMEN R SO HOT AND I WANT THEM ALL SO BAD ALL 3 AT ONCE NOW NOW NOW #mommy..?

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meetmypointlessaddiction · 8 months

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Joel Miller x f!reader: Burnout

Forgot to post the next chapter of So It’s Gonna Be Forever due to a huge burnout so instead I wrote this.

Summary: Reader is suffering from a huge burnout in which everything becomes overwhelming such as her senses but fiancé Joel is there to save the day. (I don’t think this has a medical term but this is purely from personal experience so I may be wrong.)

Warnings: Mentions of panic attack or similar event, sensory overload (?), not wanting to be touched or hear things etc, pretty sure that’s everything but let me know if I’ve missed anything.

This was written on my phone and has no beta so all mistakes are mine. Please enjoy and let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Words: 2,1k

Life in Texas was relaxing for the most part. You lived with your fiancé and stepdaughter in a remote town just outside of Austin and taught in the only elementary school in the town and taught the few dozen second graders. You and Joel had been together for almost six years, the pair of you meeting when Sarah was just four years old. It wasn’t often that you suffered from exhaustion but this week had been one straight from the depths of hell and you were more than ready to curl up in bed and not leave for a week.

It was tradition for you, Joel and Sarah to travel into Austin with Tommy and his wife Maria to attend the first fun fair of the spring however this year you were not prepared. You seemed to be much more sensitive to everything and a fun fair filled with noise and different smells and crowds was not what your were ready for this week. The fair always opened on a Friday and after finally dismissing your class for the weekend, you were on the verge of tears when you noticed Joel in the car park waiting for you.

If it was any other year, you probably would have told Joel that you just could not go and he would explain to Sarah that they would have to go when you were feeling better but this year was a special occasion. Sarah was finally tall enough for the roller coaster she had been wanting to go on since you first took her to the fair four years ago. You couldn’t be the one to disappoint such a sweet child, not when it was the one thing she was looking forward to.

“Hey baby. Ready to get going?” He asked, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips but you turned her head, not wanting the contact. “You mad at me?” He asked, eyes wide and you were quick to shake your head.

“No it’s just one of the kids brought in vanilla cupcakes for their birthday and I had one. I know how much they make your head hurt and if you’re driving-.” Joel frowned but nodded.

“Thanks honey. Now Maria and Tommy are picking Sarah up and we’re waiting here for them and I’ll drive them to Tommy’s for his car and then we’ll head off. It ain’t far but it opens pretty soon and Sarah is adamant on being the first one on that damn roller coaster.” He chuckled and you felt like a stake had been driven through your heart. There was no way you could disappoint that girl now. Joel scrolled on his phone while you waited for Tommy and Maria to walk around the corner with Sarah. The girl was talking animatedly to Tommy while Maria walked a few steps in front, a smile on her face. The three of them climbed into the truck and Sarah grinned.

“You ready, bear?” You asked and Sarah nodded, smile widening with each passing second. Your head felt heavy and you struggled to keep the fake smile on your face, the effort making your more and more miserable. Tommy and Maria were dropped off at their car and then the three of you were off, Joel letting Sarah use his phone play music through the aux. The music worsened your mood and Joel seemed to notice.

“Sleep baby. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” Joel turned the music down slightly and you winced when he placed his hand in your thigh, trying your best to let your eyes close and sleep take over.

An hour later, you were being gently shaken awake by Maria while Sarah was already out of the truck and swinging from Joel’s arm. “Hey sweetie. Joel wanted to let you sleep a little longer but the fair is opening in five and little miss is pretty determined.” She said and you just nodded. “Everything ok? You wanna talk about anything?” She asked but you shook your head, not wanting to put a damper on the mood.

The noise of the fair was enough to make your face sour and your body curl in on itself, shying away from every touch Joel tried to give you. You didn’t want to hold his hand or have his arm around you, you wouldn’t even let him put his jacket around your shoulders, not being able to do anything other than give him an apologetic smile. While Tommy queued with Sarah for one of the other rides, the roller coaster not yet being open, Maria pulled Joel aside.

“You dyed one of her shirts red again?” She asked and Joel shook his head.

“I don’t know what I’ve done. She was fine this morning but when I picked her up she wouldn’t even kiss me. She won’t let me touch her hell she physically winced when I put my hand on her thigh in the car. Is she scared of me? Y’think someone has done something to her?” He whispered in shock but Maria shook her head.

“She been like this before?” Maria asked but Joel just frowned.

“She told me she used to have trouble with sensory things. Didn’t like people touching her or the texture of clothes and food but it ain’t been a problem since we started dating. You think something’s changed?” He questioned and Maria shrugged.

“Just keep an eye on her. Might get worse before it gets better.” She warned and Joel nodded the pair of them walking back over to see you sitting on one of the benches, picking at the skin on your hand. Joel slid a clump of cotton candy in between them but you just shook your head.

“You not hungry darlin’?” He asked and you shrugged, not willing to explain that upon seeing and feeling the item, your brain had suddenly decided that it didn’t like the texture or the thought of eating it. “Wanna go sit in the car for five? Talk to me?” Joel offered but you just shook your head again as you noticed Tommy and Sarah being admitted into the carts. The multiple different scents were sending a wave of nausea through your body and you couldn’t help but pull at your fingers, trying to remove the residue that the cotton candy had left behind.

The ride was over fairly quickly and the fair was still relatively empty but as time went on and more rides opened, the fairground filled up and soon enough, everyone where you went you were shoulder to shoulder with complete strangers. You felt tears fill your eyes when you noticed it wasn’t Joel beside you but some random man while your fiancé was behind you. You froze and it was like an anchor was pulling you down. Exhaustion took over and if it wasn’t for Tommy quickly wrapping his arms around your waist from the left, you would have been in a heap. Your hands went to your ears as Tommy yelled for Joel and Maria ushered Sarah over to the next ride.

“What the hell happened?” Joel asked, pushing through the people to find you leant against Tommy’s chest with your hands plugging your ears and eyes squeezed shut. “Can I lift ya up honey? Just to get you to a bench?” He said, tapping you to get your attention. When you didn’t answer, he put an arm under your legs and around your waist and lifted you, bad back be damned.

Tommy followed the pair of you just outside of the fair where Joel sat you down on a bench a replaced your hand with his, pressing the other ear to his chest while he covered your eyes with the palm of his free hand. “She ok?” Tommy asked and Joel shook his head.

“Remember when she told us about the sensory thing?” Joel said and Tommy nodded. “I think it’s that. It all makes sense, not wanting to be touched and the noise and food. I think I’m gonna have to take her home. Can you go get Sarah and Maria?” Tommy nodded.

After five minutes, you were till being shielded by Joel, noise and sight blocked by his hands. Joel saw Sarah rush over but Tommy managed to stop her before she could touch you. “Mama?” She asked and Tommy cuddled her close to him.

“She’s ok babygirl. She’s gonna be ok. You remember when mama said that sometimes she couldn’t deal with sounds and touch and seeing too many things? How sometimes it made her really sad?” Sarah nodded, eyes glossed over. “She’s feeling a little over sensitive to things right now so I’m gonna take her home and I need you to stay with Uncle Tommy and Maria ok? Just until tomorrow and I’ll pick ya up and we’ll stay in and watch movies.” Joel explained and Sarah noticed how serious his voice was and nodded, Joel was just glad his daughter was so mature.

Tommy took Sarah out of the way, probably towards one of the food stands, while Maria stood in front of Joel. “There’s a weighted blanket in the back of Tommy’s car, might help ground her a little more.” Maria suggested and Joel nodded. “I’ll walk to the truck with you.”

“I ain’t moving yet. Not until she’s calmed down a little more.” Joel said and Maria just smiled. Maria and Joel weren’t exactly on great terms when they first met, Maria not able to shake the views her parents had drilled into her from when she was young. She believed Joel should be out looking for a wife instead of looking after his daughter but after seeing how different he was with his daughter, Maria soon warmed up to him and came to care for her niece and brother-in-law. She was the first one to threaten you when you and Joel first began dating, not willing to risk the stability that Joel and Sarah had found after the untimely death of his ex wife.

After settling down slightly, you slumped against Joel’s chest and he sighed, hoisting you up into his arms and heading straight for the truck while Maria diverted to Tommy’s car to grab the weighted blanket. “I’ve put it on the back seat. Get her a cup of tea and into bed and lay it over her. We’ll drop Sarah off tomorrow just give us a call.” Maria said and Joel smiled, thanking her before putting his foot on the gas and heading home.

“Hey baby. Feeling a little better?” Joel asked as he noticed your eyes open. You just shrugged and Joel smiled sadly. “You wanna call at a McDonalds to get some fries?” You shook your head and Joel nodded, his eyes turning back to the road, not wanting to push you any further.

“Sorry.” You muttered and Joel’s frown deepened.

“The hell you sorry for? It ain’t your fault honey. I don’t wanna hear it, ok?” Joel said and you just nodded, smiling slightly. When he finally pulled up into the driveway of your shared home, Joel opened your door for you and then followed you to the front door, opening it for you. “You head on up to bed and I’ll make you a drink and bring some snacks up, you ain’t eaten anything since this morning.” Joel said and you just nodded again, shocked at how well he was taking the whole sensory overload thing.

Changed into a pair of silk pyjamas that weren’t making your skin itch, you lushed the sheets to Joel’s side of the bed and laid down, the feeling of the sheets already making you feel ill. “Cup of tea, should warm you up a little. You want me to take the sheets off?” He asked but you shook your head.

“Don’t want you to get cold.” You said but Joel chuckled.

“Honey you steal my side of the blanket every damn night. I’m pretty used to being a little chilly.” He teased and you scowled at him, letting him remove the sheets from the bed and sit on the edge opposite you.

“Lay down with me?” You asked quietly and Joel complied, setting a few snacks on his bedside table, noticeably none of them had any abnormal textures to them. Joel rested an arm behind his head while the other simply rested between you both. Seeing his huge palm laying there empty brought a sudden urge upon you and you tentatively placed your hand in his, noticing the smile that came across his face. “Feeling a little better.” You said shyly and Joel nodded.

“You take as long as you need sweetheart. I’ll be here.”

Please let me know how you felt and don’t forget to like and reblog so the algorithm can do its thing.

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stroodlenoodles · 2 years

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These Maria concepts by Hyoung Nam give off so much BDE, I am obsessed

#she looks like a mob boss in the 2nd image and I'm living for it #give me bad bitch maria naughty dog #I need it #the last of us #maria miller #tlou maria #maria tlou #the last of us part ii #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #tlou #concept art #tommy miller #tlou tommy #tommy tlou #ellie williams #tlou ellie #ellie tlou

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rqgnarok · 8 months

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orange juice - tommy miller (ii)

fandom: the last of us (tv show & video game)

wc: 7,664

warnings: mentions of alcoholism, ptsd, death and gore as seen on the show and games. no pronouns for reader.

summary: a surprising turn of events brings tommy back to your life and he won't let sleeping dogs lie.

sequel to dial drunk and loosely inspired in noah kahan's orange juice

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

“He’s looking at you again.”

“Let him,” you tell Maria, picking at your pancakes with your fork. It’s almost 10 PM and she took you out to eat breakfast for dinner, but it was enough incentive to get you out of the house after two weeks of no human interaction. That, and the fact that she’s paying. “He can stare all he wants, it’s not a crime.”

“Feels like one,” she shrugs, eyesight momentarily stuck to the corner of her eye where you know she’s scouting her target, her lips a tight, displeased line. “And your shoulders say otherwise, all up against your ears. You look like you’re waiting for the electric chair.”

You roll your eyes so hard it brings back to life the headache you’ve been nursing for the last couple of days. It had gently placed itself as a quiet dull in the back of your head and returns full force now.

The diner is half-empty– not an unusual occasion at this time of night, but the voices and laughter from fellow Jackson citizens only worsen the ache of the giant bruise that is your body right now.

“It would be a kinder fate, I think.”

Maria stands her ground, grimacing. “God, who even is this guy? When you said there was some bad history I thought you meant, like, a nasty ex. That man is looking like a cloud belongs permanently above his head.”

Who even is Tommy Miller? It’s a good enough question, one you never thought you’d have to answer in your life after the world ended.

You’d been in New York when the infected spread like wildfire across the country. There was barely enough time while running for your life to think about what might’ve happened to the Miller boys.

You hoped. By God, you hoped like you rarely dared these days that Joel, Tommy, and Sarah made it out safely. Guilt swallowed you whole the second you thought about it for too long.

You relinquished any rights you had on them when you abandoned them. You ran out of Austin with your tail between your legs and cut off all contact with them, one last futile attempt to put Tommy’s life back together.

Why are you being so fucking difficult?

I’m done watching you wreck your life, Tommy. I’m not picking up again tonight, or ever. Call Joel.

The first time you saw Tommy Miller again after two decades you were too in the throes of a panic attack to believe he was real.

It wouldn’t be the first time you confused the sight of a stranger for your long-lost friend. Freckles on fair skin, cow eyes so brown they could be black and broad shoulders under jean jackets; they’re more common than you’d think.

But they always turn around and the illusion always breaks. It’s your designed personal penitence, to chase after the man that knew how to hurt you better than anyone in your life, and that you let because you loved him. Love, still. Time and distance and the fucking apocalypse weren’t enough to diminish what you’ve always felt for Tommy Miller.

You loved him even when you left him. It’s why you left him, even if it killed you in the process.

But this time it was him. Along with a group of newcomers, he stumbled across Jackson and you found yourself trying to blink away the sight of a ghost in the town square to no avail. His expression was tight and distrustful, so Joel it created a vacuum of longing in your belly even through the panic.

And fuck, man, Joel. The last time you talked to Tommy was the last time you talked to his brother, too. A call right after you hung up on the youngest Miller that had him using all the curses available in his vocabulary on his brother’s name.

How many times has he done this to you?

Too many.

Fucking dumbass. Hope you keep ‘im in the doghouse a little longer this time.

I’m serious, Joel, I’m not picking after him again.

Joel had tried to convince you otherwise, but you both knew his heart wasn’t in it. You’d both witnessed Tommy’s mishaps once too many times and he knew dropping Tommy wasn’t a decision you’d make lightly.

Because it meant dropping him as well, and Sarah. It meant giving up on the realest family you had, most likely for good.

He’s gonna hate this. I think that boy would rather lose an arm than lose you.

He can live without me, Joel.

No, he’d said, oddly solemn, like he knew something you didn’t. No, he can’t.

But he’d been wrong. Here Tommy was, stumbling into your life as if he hadn’t left it at all. He'd locked eyes with you across town like the sea of curious citizens peering at the dirty strangers from outside town didn’t exist.

Even if it hadn’t been him those thousand times you thought you saw him, in your mind Tommy was everywhere: dead in some shallow common grave in Austin, turned and without any control over his body with a bite scar on his arm, running for his life with a gun in his hand and Joel by his side, hiding behind the alcohol like he’d been doing the last time you saw him.

The possibilities were endless and terrible, but they hadn’t killed you yet.

The way Tommy’s face fell in realization almost did. You’d rubbed at your eyes and strained your eyesight as best you could, but the hallucination refused to fade. He was still there, standing tall, weary and tired and hopeful.

He’d opened his mouth, the shape of your name already on his lips when you turned around and ran for your life back into your house. Your lungs didn’t fill with a full breath until you turned all the locks and leaned against the door, heart hammering against your ribs and nausea crawling up your throat.

As if Tommy would chase after you, knocking on your door and demanding something from you, or maybe just to be mean about the same things he’s always held against you.

But he hadn’t. Hiding worked. You didn’t hear anything from him or about him from Maria, so you stood your ground. You didn’t even throw a fit when she came to force you into the shower so you could have dinner together, only to avoid more questions you couldn’t answer.

Who is he? You looked like the Grim Reaper was walking into town, do you know him? Did he hurt you? I swear to God, if he did he’s not staying, hon, I promise–

An old friend, was the explanation you’d settled on, the biggest understatement of your life. We grew up together and went our separate ways way before the outbreak. Wasn’t really a clean break.

Maria took it, albeit hesitantly, and the worried glances she’d been sending your way in the diner grew tenfold when Tommy walked in. He sat at the bar and ordered a drink with a piece of pecan pie. Something in your heart clenched when the waiter put a colorful drink in front of him and Tommy poured it down without even blinking.

So what if he’s drinking, still? It’s why you walked away from him, isn’t it? If your ultimatum meant nothing to him then that’s not your problem, even if it makes something sorrowful and ugly bloom in your belly.

You look away just as he turns his head towards your booth so he doesn’t catch you looking. Instead, you catch him more than a handful of times, his gaze hot and piercing.

It’s always been unnerving, being under his careful eye.

“I don’t think he’s gonna stop.”

Fuck, you think. “Then I will,” you sigh in mourning for your nice evening and hit the table lightly with your fist as you stand. Maria hisses your name and goes to grab your arm but you’re already walking towards Tommy. The next time he sneaks a look he finds you closer than expected.

You would laugh at the look on his face if this were funny at all.

It’s not funny. Whatever bravado you might’ve put on in front of Maria is fake and gone by the time you reach Tommy’s side. He annoyingly smells of cologne, somehow a charming like hell scent even in a post-apocalyptic world.

“You’re staring,” is your opener, less annoyed than you intended and a little bit too breathless, but a truth all the same.

The asshole has the decency to look amused, eyes glinting, and that terrible mustache he’s acquired since he got here moves in a way that indicates he’s smiling and trying to hide it.

“Hello to you, too,” he says, and the roughness of his voice sends thrills of warmth down your belly. He both did and didn’t speak like this twenty years ago, a harsher edge to his tone that you credit to the terrible decades spent between then and now. But underneath it all there’s something so indescribably Tommy that leaves you incredibly out of your depth for this moment.

“Hey, Miller,” you say with a roll of your eyes at his sarcasm, but the greeting comes out too soft, too honest. You feel like the knots of anxiety inside of you are about to snap from how tightly they are woven. “You’re staring. It’s freaking Maria out.”

“Sorry to Maria,” he says without sounding even merely apologetic, and your heckles rise so quickly you’re practically blindsided. It starts with a few cute quips and ends with him calling you to pick him up from the bar fight he’s lost this time, breath reeking of tequila. “You look good.”

He checks you out slowly, brown eyes full of intent and lacking subtlety. It feels like you’re facing a shooting battalion, waiting for them to deem you guilty.

There’s nothing suggestive or mean about it. It’s almost kind– wistful in a way you don’t remember him being. You're just having a casual conversation, even if there’s nothing casual about this encounter.

“So do you,” you say for lack of anything else, his honesty catching you off guard. His eyes fly to your face and scrutinize you like he’s trying to make sure you mean it. Whatever conclusion he reaches makes his smile widen, even if just by a little. “Can’t say I’m not surprised, though. Thought you would’ve moved on from Jackson by now.”

He shrugs, turning back to stare at his empty glass, still angling his body toward you where he’s sitting on a worn-out stool. “You don’t find this a lot these days.”

“Civilization?”

“Community,” his eyes twinkle, and, really, Jesus Christ, what’s up with the lights in this place? The man looks like a live-action Disney prince, all combed hair and bright eyes. “Reminds me of home, almost. And, well.”

He doesn’t say it, and you’ve long stopped trying to figure out what he keeps to himself, but you know what you want it to be. You’re too familiar with the way he stops himself from saying stuff he means– especially if it's kind. He’s saving himself the bashful blush that comes after but you desperately wish to hear it anyway.

And, well. You’re here, too.

He clears his throat when you only nod in response, silence stretching between you painfully. “Can I buy you a drink?”

It’s your turn to bite back your words. A firm, offended fuck no rests on your tongue, and swallowing it back down feels like gravel against your throat.

He’s trying, you guess.

You wordlessly sit on the stool next to him, careful not to touch him even on accident. Nodding at the waiter, you say, “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” intertwining your hands nervously and feeling somewhat victorious for getting anything out.

The waiter nods, tilting his head in question. “Non-alcoholic alright?”

You blink, once again losing the slight footing you’d found just now. You don’t turn towards Tommy, but you feel him shift in his seat, silent.

“I- yeah, sure.”

He nods and walks away, and you and Tommy sit in silence until he comes back to place a glass in front of you. You reach for it only to busy your hands but don’t drink from it. Anything you might take is only gonna come back up eventually out of sheer nervousness.

Tommy speaks after a beat. The anxiety in your belly keeps pushing further. “You could’ve ordered something else if you wanted. Maybe with a little more kick?”

“I don’t mind,” you promise dryly. “I, uh. I don’t drink, really. Like, at all.”

“Me either, if you can believe it,” it surprises you enough that your head turns to him in disbelief. Tommy’s already looking at you with an expression you can’t name but unsettles you all the same. He smiles at whatever he sees in your expression, gently amused. “I know. Joel made the same face when I told him I wanted to quit.”

The mention of the eldest Miller would bring you to your knees had you been standing up. “Joel. Is he…?”

You trail off but Tommy catches your meaning and his amusement dissolves.

“Alright,” Tommy confirms with a nod, taking a sip of his drink and running his tongue over his lips after, chasing the flavor. He looks suddenly stricken, but like he’s had enough of that emotion that his features have grown accustomed to it. “As much as he can be, I guess. We... lost Sarah the day all hell broke loose.”

Whatever relief had filled you is immediately displaced by nausea. Closing your eyes tightly doesn’t stop the tears from burning or the wave of grief from washing over you.

“Fuck,” you say through feelings that are now stopping you from breathing freely. “Fuck, Tommy, I’m so sorry.”

“I am, too,” he says, quiet and thoughtful and familiar. Fuck, so fucking familiar that it both soothes and shakes you even further. You feel him move again, and open your eyes to find his hand closer to yours on the counter than it was a second ago, not touching you but offering some weird sort of comfort nevertheless. “I know you loved her. She loved you, too. So much.”

Love is an understatement. You’d been the fourth person to ever hold her after her parents and her uncle, and she had you wrapped around your finger the second she held it tightly in her tiny, baby fist. You watched her first steps and her first words, went to her first soccer game and gossiped about her first crush. Nursed her first heartbreak when the men in her life were too out of depth to really help.

She’d been your family as much as Joel and Tommy had been. Any issue you had with Tommy had nothing to do with his niece or his brother. You’d hoped; stupidly, blindly, selfishly, that she’d made it even if this was never the world you wanted her to grow up in.

“God, all this time…” you cut yourself off and fight the urge to reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers. You’ve never missed him from this close. “I mean– it was always a long shot, but I thought. I hoped… If anyone…”

“I know,” he acknowledges, fingers twitching. He lets a moment pass before he says, tentatively– “I hoped for you, too.”

It would’ve hurt you less if he had insulted you. At least it would’ve been expected.

“Tommy–”

He calls your name as he finally puts his hand on top of yours, pleading. It’s too warm, sweaty, and firm on your skin, and you pull it off the counter swiftly before he can do anything stupid like squeeze it. You stand, distraught, and Tommy follows suit.

“Sweets, please–”

“Don’t,” you snap, harsher and louder than you mean to, earning yourself unwanted attention from a few curious eyes in the diner. Maria, on the other side of the room, is standing and eyeing you worriedly.

Her eyes say blink twice and I’ll kick his balls but even her support is too much. The world blurs around you and Tommy’s words from forever ago echo along with the blood pumping in your ears.

Don’t be like that, sweets. You can act all high and mighty next time, alright?

God, you can’t do this. You left a small town once to avoid this exact confrontation. Maybe it’s finally time to leave Jackson and this is God laughing in your face, screaming at you to go.

“This isn’t what I came for,” you say to the universe, to Maria, to Tommy, to whoever’s listening and is kind enough to get you out of your misery. “Just– stop it with the staring, alright? You can have my drink if you want.”

Tommy looks desperate and more unkept than he had a minute ago. His hair’s a mess even if he hasn’t even reached out to touch it, and the twinkle in his eye is made out of urgency rather than charm.

“Sweets–”

“Fuck off,” you bite, eyesight blurry with unshed tears of frustration. Tommy reels back a little. He wasn’t expecting any aggression from you. “I don’t want you to call me that.”

“I’ve always called you that,” Tommy’s brow furrows in honest confusion.

“Yes,” you say, because to you it’s as clear as glass cutting into your skin. “Yeah, that’s the fucking problem, Tommy.”

You can’t bear to look at him. How dare he be hurt about this after what he did? After breaking your heart, using your feelings against you, and then holding a grudge for two decades when you decided you weren’t gonna let him do that shit to you?

You leave the diner with those words, ignoring both Tommy and Maria calling after you. Only one of them tries to follow but you’re not in the mood to entertain either of them, even if Maria has nothing but good intentions.

God, those free pancakes weren’t even worth it.

You hide at home again.

You hate that this is what its come to. Even if Jackson has become your home you’re the one who has to hide away because Tommy decided to parade in without a fucking care in the world.

It’s weird, you spent years trying to live with your guilt over ending your friendship the way you did, even if it was for the better, but now that he’s back you feel nothing but anger.

Anger over him putting you in a position like that. Anger about his own anger and inability to see how badly you were trying to put his safety over your friendship. Anger about ending up here anyway: breaking yourself in two for his sake.

Some things never change, apparently.

The weekend comes and goes after your valiant escape from the diner and this time there’s nothing Maria can say or do to get you to go out again. She leaves some groceries at your doorstep because she’s a fantastic friend, but after blatantly refusing to answer her questions about Tommy she leaves you alone, wearing a disappointed mother-like frown.

You’re trying and failing to read a book one of your neighbors lent you when there’s a knock at the door. Believing it to be Maria you stay rooted in your spot on the couch, knowing she’ll give up eventually.

Except the knocking doesn’t stop.

It doesn’t grow more insistent or lose its intensity, but rather keeps its steady rhythm; three knocks, a moment or two of silence, and then repeat. It gets on your nerves sooner than later and you’re jumping off the couch to make it stop, clad in your pajamas and fuzzy socks that almost got you shot when you were bargaining for them half a decade ago.

By the time you reach the door, you’re about to pull your hair out. Maria’s name is on your lips when you come face to face with Tommy, his fist still raised mid-knock.

“Don’t close the door,” he rushes to say, hand settling on the frame just in case you decide to do it anyway. “I just want to talk, please.”

“What the fuck,” you answer out of mere surprise, body coiled tight as you try to keep your body language to a minimum. Any sudden movements and he’ll invite himself in, and then you really won’t be able to keep the line drawn between your past and your life here. “There’s nothing to talk about, Tommy.”

“Like hell, there isn’t,” he says with enough annoyance that you blink, reeling back a little. Finally, a taste of the Tommy you were expecting, short and mean and careless with your heart.

It’s almost a relief– the sweet facade was too good to be true and you didn’t believe it for a second. “We were friends once, or did you forget? And now you can’t even be in the same room as me for more than twenty minutes. I’m sure we’ve both got more than enough to get off our chests, sweets.”

“Don’t–”

“Don’t call you that, yeah, sorry,” he mimics your outcry from the other night, but he shrinks a little at the reminder, shoulders to his ears. It’s an honest enough apology that you refrain another biting comment from leaving your mouth. “See, I’d get a chance to understand why you hate it so much if you just talked to me–”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Tommy,” you say, more honestly than you mean to. He keeps pulling the truth out of you despite your best tries to give him as little insight into yourself as possible.

It comes out tired– reminiscent of the resignation you used to pick up the phone with whenever Tommy called late at night.

“And I’m not here for that,” the way he’s meeting your gaze leaves you unable to look away. You automatically preen under the warm, molten brown of his eyes. “But I– you owe me some kind of explanation–”

“Jesus,” you laugh, the sound loaded with incredulity. Just when you think you know what to expect from him… “That’s really fucking rich, Tom, really, so much for not fighting–”

“You’re the one who insists on making everything a godforsaken argument–”

“Listen to what you’re saying to me!” you exclaim a little too loudly, catching the attention of some of your neighbors and shit.

Motherfucking shit, you have no other choice but to grab Tommy’s stupid flannel in your fist and pull him inside your home away from prying eyes. You close the door behind you and turn back to him, fire at your tongue. “Fucking listen to yourself, Tommy! What the fuck would I owe you after everything–”

“Listen, just because you don’t like me anymore–”

“I don’t like you?” you say incredulously, stopping mid-path to the kitchen and trying to come to terms with Tommy standing in your home looking like he’s meant to be here. “Tommy, I mean this with the most respect I am capable of mustering for you right now, but are you high?”

It’s the sort of thing you would’ve told him when you were younger, unapologetically calling him out on his shit in the most picturesque way possible. Tommy’s eyes brighten with something– not quite glee, not quite fury– and he leans closer to you almost automatically, muscle memory pulling at strained, rusted pieces of him that are now awakening in your presence.

“Fuck off,” he snaps, but there’s something resigned about it. He presses at his temples with his thumb and index finger, hand calloused and steady and too familiar for you not to ache for his touch.

“You’re the one who dropped me like it was nothing,” he accuses. All the fight leaks out of him, leaving him curved inwards and small. “Like you weren’t my best fucking friend, like I– like I was always just– pulling you down, or some shit. Like you were just waiting for the right excuse to get rid of me.”

The words are a gut punch on their own but the way he says them– like he’s been thinking them to be true ever since you left– almost floors you completely.

You say, “Tommy,” and you can’t help it. Some instinctive part inside of you has come back to life and doesn’t know anything other than his name. “Tommy, are you being serious right now?”

“Do you know why I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in over a decade?” he demands, looking straight into your fucking soul as he waves his hands around, trying to make a point. “Because after the world went to shit all I could think about was you. I thought of you, dead and mad at me, and I wanted to be wrong about that more than I wanted to drink.”

Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ.

“You left me behind,” he says, an accusation, but it comes out too quiet for it to really be angry. “And you just… moved on. Moved away. It felt like everything we went through meant nothing to you.”

You gape. The silence echoes in your ears along with the rapid beat of your heart and your blood rushing to your brain as you make sense of what he's saying.

“It meant everything to me,” you admit eventually, the weight of your decision still making your shoulders ache after all these years. “Jesus, Tommy, don’t you get it? That’s why I had to leave. It killed me to watch you fade away like that. And to think I was… aiding and abetting, somehow–”

Tommy shakes his head, stubborn. “The drinking wasn’t your fault–”

“You called me every fucking time,” you interrupt, voice hard.

There’s little softness about the whole thing. He was your friend and you failed him by cutting him off and not being there when he needed you, but he wasn’t exactly pulling his weight. It was you on your own trying to maintain a friendship he wasn’t interested in saving.

“At one point I only heard from you when you needed me to bail you out. I got to know more about the sheriff on guard than about your own life. It wasn’t fucking fair, Tom. To either of us.”

Tommy doesn’t have an answer for that, arms crossed and glaring at your kitchen floor. His jaw quivers with emotion but his fluttering brows tell you it’s not anger. You know what he looks like when he’s trying not to cry.

“I was a reminder of everything wrong with your life,” you continue, quieter, softened by his lack of retort and the absence of any fight. “I was stopping you from moving on by coming every time you called. As long as I came to get you you’d keep getting shitfaced. Driving drunk, getting into fights, hurting the people you loved. I couldn’t keep doing that to you.”

“Hurting you,” Tommy says, meeting your eye. There’s only a table between you now, but you’ve never felt further apart from him, and that’s saying something. “All that time, I was hurting you.”

You look away in embarrassment, even though there’s nothing about the statement that warrants it. “And Joel and Sarah. Your mom. But yeah. Yeah, you were hurting me.”

Tommy sighs. He’s looking every one of his years and reaching for one of your chairs, sitting like his body can’t hold him up anymore, his vices calling to charge their fees.

You ask, curious, grief-stricken: “What happened to you, Tommy?”

“I don’t know,” he says, lost, the sound of his voice bordering on a break. He’s crying now, you realize, not shedding tears but trying to keep himself together and failing. “I don’t know, I was just so… angry. About everything. After I was discharged everywhere I saw, it was all red.”

You close your eyes at the mention of 22-year-old Tommy, some baby fat still clinging to his changing face that was hardened by his experience overseas. You’d gone with his family to pick him up from the airport, and he’d clung just as tightly to you as you did him when you ran to meet him on the tarmac. Your lungs had finally, finally filled with a full breath now that he was back home with you, but something was off and you knew it the second you saw him.

His shoulders remained tense all throughout your embrace and the ride home. He was quiet during the welcome party in his mom’s house, and later you spent hours on his porch until the sun came back up again. Whatever it was, he hadn’t wanted to talk about it.

You don’t want to hear about all that, he’d promised, arms around his legs and cheek laying on his knee, gaze on you and far away at the same time. Trust me, sweets, I’d take this fucking heat and some Willie Nelson over army shit every time.

“I don’t know when I realized drinking made it easier,” he goes on, and you wonder if he’s stuck in the same memory as you. “I could be as angry as I wanted to and still not feel a damn thing. And I didn’t care who paid the price of it. I didn’t care about anything.”

“That night, though,” he says, expression turning wary as if expecting you to make a run for it. You’ve tried to the last two times you came face to face with him, but you’re too tired now. You’ve picked too much at this scar to do anything other than let it bleed. “When you hung up on me, it all came rushing back. Everything I’d been tryin’ to avoid just crashed into me. Hurt a hell of a lot worse than the broken nose did.”

Your surprise bypasses your quiet grief. “You broke your nose?”

“It got broken,” he pulls a sour face that almost makes you smile. He rubs the crooked slope with his index finger, thoughtful. “Not that I didn’t deserve it, but I’m pretty sure Collins had had it against me since high school.”

You snort. You remember who he’s talking about– one of the officers you had to befriend in the hope he’d let Tommy go with a warning a few dozen times. He’d been a skinny kid with braces and a hero-like worship for the younger Miller before he graduated and signed up for the Academy.

“I’m not angry anymore,” he admits, and you don’t realize how much that statement means to you until your next breath comes a little too easy, fills your chest the way air hasn’t for twenty whole years. “After the world ended, being mad about something like this felt…”

You try to help when he trails off. “Insignificant?”

Tommy’s smile is small but real, fond. “I was gonna say ‘stupid’, but yeah.” He nods at you, wistful. “Yeah, you’ve always been better at words than me. Better in every sense, really.”

You soften again against your will. “Tommy.”

“Sorry,” he shakes his head, wiping some stray tears neither of you realized had fallen. He’s not gentle about it, and you itch to reach for his hands and do it yourself, remind him that the world has punished you both for long enough to have him be so rough on himself.

“It’s different now. Being sober,” he continues, nervous. He’s tapping the table, bouncing his knee, biting his cheek– a checklist for anxious tics. “Trying to get through the end of the world without booze was shitty as hell.”

He continues, ashamed– “I, uh, I fell off the wagon more times than I’d like. Definitely more than I can excuse, even with everything that’s happened.”

Guilt swells inside you and you’re unable to dial it back. You left him. He was in trouble without a way out and your response to that was to leave him.

Even if you’d been right to do it, even if you indirectly saved his life, you’ve always been honest with yourself about how much it haunted you. It’s a small, worthless comfort, how the right choices usually don't feel so.

“You kept calling me,” it escapes your mind without your consent, but now that you’ve put it out there you can’t stop thinking about it. “I didn’t pick up, but you kept calling at first. Always after midnight, always drunk. Always in trouble.”

You meant what you said when he first came in, you don’t want to fight, but you’ve spared his feelings at your expense for too long now, and you need to know. You never thought you’d get the chance to ask, so you have to. Even if Tommy hangs his head like he’s preparing for the guillotine, you need to lay this to rest now. For your sake.

“I know,” he says, soft and regretful.

“And then you stopped,” you recall, the hurt so vivid it’s still present, still clutching at your heart after all this time. “When you realized I was of no use to you, that I wouldn’t come to bail you out–”

He says your name painfully.

“I never stopped liking you, Tommy,” you tell him, a secret to apparently no one but him. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. It wasn’t me who stopped caring.”

“Me either,” he says, suddenly firm, looking up at you with a gaze made of steel that doesn’t leave any room for argument. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself as you lean against the counter, its edge jamming almost painfully against your back. “Please tell me you know that. I was a dick and I’m owning up to that but God, please tell me you know how much you mean to me.”

Mean, he says, your mind stuck like a broken record on the present tense as if you hadn’t told him you still loved him just a moment ago. Still, still, still.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, literally having been rendered speechless. Tommy’s expression shatters.

“Sweets,” it’s a small, tender thing, but he corrects himself immediately even if you don’t complain this time. You’re too stricken by the turns of this conversation to do anything about it. He says your name and you pretend it doesn’t kill you, laughing to himself with every loaded emotion except humor. “God, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I fucked everything up, didn’t I?”

Your answer gets stuck in your throat. You don’t like any of the possibilities, saying either yes or no would be a lie. There are no absolutes in this, nothing crystal clear about this thing between you.

He reads your hesitation and watches you sit opposite to him like he’s exchanging words with a haunting, distrusting and hopeful all the same.

“We were– we were good, though,” he says, like a question, voice dry. He sounds so different from the last time he asked something of you, and the dichotomy is a little too much for you to handle. “Weren’t we? For a while there, before we– I… we were good, right?”

You do the unimaginable and reach out your arm, palm up. Tommy looks at it and you back and forth, like he expects you to laugh in his face, but eventually he meets you halfway and intertwines your fingers together.

Your tears clog your throat. There are so many things you wish had happened differently. “Yeah, Tom,” you say, benevolent. “We were really good.”

His smile is sad and fleeting but his hand is tight around yours. You sit in silence on your kitchen table as the light drains from the sky, but neither of you make a move to leave or turn on the light.

Your life goes on. Surprisingly, with Tommy in it.

It’s an adjustment, for sure. After your heart-to-heart, he promises he’ll stick around in Jackson indefinitely, but it’s still a shock every time he comes by to pick you up for lunch. With his hands behind his back and bouncing nervously on his tippy toes, he looks like he’s about to ask your mom if you can come out to play after you finish your homework.

It freaks you out. The first time he walks you home after an awkward, stilted late morning at the diner your mind bombards you with worse-case scenarios:

Tommy leaving town without telling you, Tommy relapsing after two consecutive hours in your company, Tommy avoiding you around town for the rest of your days as if you hadn’t talked things out at all.

But he comes back. Two days later and then the week after that and so on. Both your social skills slowly but surely begin to defrost and before you know it, you’re seeing each other almost daily for periods of time too long for mere acquaintances.

You’re friends again. Still, he insists as he puts his jacket around your shoulders because a fifteen-minute walk before dinner became a three-hour talk about your years apart. We’re friends, still. I missed you every second I wasn’t with you whether I realized it or not. You were what was missing, sweets.

Today, Tommy stares at you from the other side of the room, gaze clever and unashamed, and something inside you is filled to the brim, satisfied and content.

“He’s looking at you again.”

“Let him,” you say to Maria through the rim of your glass.

She rolls her eyes in good nature and locks her arm around yours. Thus begins the slow walk around the room that inevitably ends, as everything in your life seems to, at Tommy’s side.

She’d been the one who told you to invite him. It was her party, her choice, a private but grander-than-usual affair under the excuse that not many folks get to turn 40 these days. You knew Tommy knew about it because everyone in town did, but he didn’t talk about it until you brought it up yourself after a night together.

Sunlight had been streaming gently through the curtains that swayed with the spring air coming through the window. You’d blindly picked up the closest garment of clothing you found on the floor before you went down to make breakfast.

Tommy had taken one look at you in his shirt and intercepted your path before you could leave the bedroom, hand pulling you back into bed and, consequentially, into his lap.

He’d smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and it was like the years vanished between you. You were young again and at the receiving end of Tommy Miller’s honest, boyish charm. Mornin', sweets.

Except you never had this before. Getting Tommy back as a best friend had been one thing, but venturing into this new chapter meant jumping in blind with only his hand in yours to guide you.

He kissed you for the first time– since last time, of course– one early morning after patrol. He settled into the routine of it quite nicely, and he became your partner for it without complaints from, anyone, really.

Stop me if you don’t want to, he’d said, close enough that his eyes were turning from side to side to stare into yours, half-lidded. It was such a callback to the last time that you had to blink several times just to check it wasn’t a dream. But when he finally cut the distance between you you realized it couldn’t be– your dreams never ended like this.

Your dreams ended, but this didn’t. Tommy cupped your head tenderly yet with an intensity that hadn’t been there three decades ago. He licked into your mouth the second you shuddered and clung to the back of his jean jacket, heart hammering inside your chest.

He’d kept his eyes tightly closed after you pulled away, out of breath and high on giddiness, his hands protecting your face from the biting, winter wind.

You good in there, handsome?

Don’t wanna find out you aren’t real. I’ve dreamt about this, I’ll have you know.

You started the kiss then just for that, the thought of Tommy yearning after you like you did him during your time apart driving you a little too crazy.

So it’d been so easy, in the end, to let things progress the way you hadn’t had a chance to after high school. Within the year he was waking up at your place most mornings, coming over for dinner, and sinking into you when you wrapped your arms around him from behind, your temple against his back.

What does a guy gotta do to get you to come home early tonight?

You know you’re invited, right? You can come with me instead of moping around. Maria said so and everything.

I don’t know. I don’t think she likes me that much still–

Bullshit–

–and I wouldn’t wanna embarrass myself askin’ for water all night. He’d rubbed your back tenderly, slowly, up and down strokes while you tangled a strand of his hair around your finger, meaningless touches full of meanings. You go have fun, baby, alright? I’ll stick around for the night and see you after.

You understood and trusted him fully about it, of course. But you still couldn’t help yourself and dialed your home number during the party, hoping to catch him before he fell asleep waiting for you.

You can swing by if you want, you said into the phone, smiling at the sound of Tommy’s voice through the receiver and feeling a little too hot under the collar. Party’s practically over.

Am I gonna be peer pressure’d into party activities? Or do they know about my… situation?

It was a joke, but you could recognize the undertones of tension from miles away.

Yeah, honey, they know you’re sober, you soothed. I mean it, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, alright? But if you change your mind I’ve got some orange juice with your name on it. And Jamie’s kids’, but still. We’d be glad to see your face.

And so here you are. Maria giving you off to Tommy like one would deliver a bride at a wedding, stepping into his open arms and feeling something settle inside of you that’s been restless for over half your life. This love, this domesticity, you never thought you’d get to experience it, let alone with Tommy.

You never thought you’d ever be this happy.

“I’m watching you, Miller,” Maria says fake menacingly as she points two fingers to her eyes and then at Tommy as a warning. “Both of you, hands above the waist, please. Keep it PG for the kiddos, would you?”

You wave her away with a loud, “Thanks, Maria. Bye, Maria,” that has her cackling with laughter all the way to her next conversation.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Tommy jokes, and any undernotes of nervousness left are washed away when you glue yourself to him, your sides touching. “You enjoyin’ yourself, sweetheart?”

You hum an affirmative, leaning your head on his shoulder. “More now that you’re here.”

Tommy grins down at you. “Aren’t you a charmer?”

You smile back slyly. “I learned from the best. You alright?”

The sigh he lets out is big but honest, looking around the room with curiosity rather than like a caged animal looking for ways out. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Everyone’s actually really nice.”

“Told you,” you quip.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re always right,” he rolls his eyes in good nature, shifting so he’s got his arm wrapped around you. “Last time we were at a party together I had to be the jealous boyfriend.”

“I remember,” you do, Tommy twenty-five years younger with his arm around you just like this, a tad more possessive. It's been getting progressively easier to talk about the past and not be overwhelmed by it, and you're glad. It wasn't all bad. “Gotta be honest, honey, I like the real thing a whole lot better.”

You’d never seen him smile so much when you were younger. These days it’s weird to find him without his lips turned upward, like right now when he presses his smiling mouth to your temple. “That makes two of us.”

You fall into a lull of silence, the party going on around you, disturbed only by your content hum. Tommy nudges his nose against your temple, asking quietly. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you murmur shyly, daring yourself to meet Tommy’s eyes even if there’s no judgment in his gaze, only warmth. You reach for the hand on your shoulder and he intertwines your fingers immediately, his hand warm and a little sweaty. “Just… it feels like I’ve been waiting for this forever.”

“This?”

“For you,” you shrug, squeezing his hand. “To come home. I didn’t think there was even a home to come back to, let alone a chance that we would. And now we’re here.”

He has to kiss you for that, rearranging your positions so he can cup your face in his hands and ignore Maria’s advice from earlier. He sneaks in a little tongue and kisses you with such force you have to hold onto him when you feel your knees go weak.

You break apart when breathing becomes imminent, and he exhales against your mouth, freckled face flushed and pleased. “Now we’re here.”

He draws you back into his embrace and talks nonsense as he draws mindless shapes against your back. About what he did today and what he plans on cooking for dinner tomorrow after patrol as long as he finds the right ingredients.

It’s so incredibly mundane that you can hardly believe it, but time ticks by and Tommy stays by your side, solid and real. He sips on his orange juice and life keeps on happening, your best friend lodged back into place after years and years of flying adrift.

it's here and it's yours!!!!

thank you all for your patience! i've been so busy with college lately but i was adamant to get this one out before august ended and here we are! i hope y'all like it, i love writing for tlou and tommy!

idk when i'll be able to post next, BUT! commissions are open right now for anyone who's interested, info about it here!

thank you so much for reading and any kind words you might have for me <3

tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl

#tlou fic #the last of us #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #gabriel luna #joel miller #sarah miller #maria tlou

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damn-stark · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4 This charming man

Tragedy at the Miller’s Chapter 4

A/N- Not ready for what’s coming

Warning- ANGST, talks of death, swearing, long chapter, fluff :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Henry x Fem!reader

Episode- 1x06 (not all of it)

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

Family reunions are supposed to be heartwarming, joyful!

Maybe it was for the first 10 minutes, but now it’s awkward, there’s tension, there’d be deafening silence but the area you’re at is filled with the sound of obnoxious chewing. It’s an annoying sound, a usual pet peeve of yours, but right now, fuck it, it’s the first real meal you’ve had in two years.

“There’s more if you need it,” Maria interjects through the urgency of all the chewing.

“Thank you, ma’am,” your dad says when he finishes chewing. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

You smile up at her with your mouth full of food and nod in agreement. Your uncle Tommy notices and shakes his head in disapproval, but he can’t help but smile faintly.

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie cuts in, causing you to slowly swallow your food and look at her with a bit of pity—“this is fuckin’ amazing.”

Your dad shoots her a pointed glare before looking up at the couple in front of him. “Sorry,” he apologizes for her, while you stifle your laugh with the food you shove in your mouth. “Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

You smirk down at your food, but feel your uncle pat your back. “Don’t worry,” he adds. “Someone tends to have a way with words too.”

You look over at him and respond back with your mouth full of food. “I’m just expressin’ my freedom of speech.” You shoot him a smile and then return to eating, bringing back a bit of silence.

Albeit seconds later the peace is broken by Ellie snapping at someone behind you. “What?!”

You slowly peek behind you and see a girl storming off; you actually recognize her, albeit she was younger then. She liked to help with your sets when you did plays, she’s cool. But yes you understand Ellie’s…caution towards her just staring, but! you don’t get the snappy attitude.

“What’s wrong with you?” You remark Ellie with a pointed look.

“What about her manners?” She counters.

You roll your eyes and catch your uncle's curious gaze at that moment, so you can’t help but smirk faintly now in response—he’ll get hell of a kick out of her, he just needs to get to know her.

“She was just curious,” Maria tries to explain. “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right.” Ellie nods. “Well, maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.”

Yeah that’s not happening.

“They also aren’t armed,” Maria says.

You set your silverware down and grab your cup of water, whilst your uncle interjects. “You know what? Uh, I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”

“She was gonna have her guys kill us,” Ellie snaps right away.

“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place,” your uncle explains. “But it’s all bark. We’re just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.”

You sit back and sip your water, only choosing to hear the argument being had.

You wouldn't be as…uhm…bold as Ellie, but you also understand her uneasiness of this place and all those people. You were new once too; afraid of everyone and cautious of everything.

“Well, you got a couple of 90-year-olds shitting themselves out there. Not much of a superstition, is it y/n?” She argues with a pointed glare aimed at you.

What? What the hell did you do?

“Ellie,” your dad warns her.

“They say that you leave dead bodies around?” Ellie remarks to your uncle and Maria again.

Now your uncle glances at you and passes an amused look at you right as Maria answers Ellie just as quickly. “Those are the people that tried us.”

“A bad reputation doesn't mean you’re bad,” your uncle adds.

“Not always, at least,” Maria adds in, and you catch her pointed look aimed at your father; which only makes you begin to frown as things get awkward. At least for you since you know the context behind her judgment.

“Ma’am,” your dad cuts in thereafter. “We’re grateful for your hospitality and all,” he pauses and looks between you, your uncle and Ellie. “But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”

Oh right, given your silent treatment, you never actually talked much about this place or about your life here to him—that makes things uncomfortable. So you slouch and put your cup down to stare at the water.

“Well, uh,” your uncle interjects as he straightens up on his chair. “Maria is family, actually.”

You glance over at them and offer them a soft smile, but when you glance over at your father and see his face of slight disbelief your smile falters.

Why does he look so shocked? It was going to happen.

“Oh, shit! Congrats.” Ellie adds, but you can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or genuine—probably sarcastic giving she’s not really liking Maria.

“Joel, say congrats,” Ellie whispers to your dad like if he’s some kid that needs a reminder.

A moment of awkward silence passes before your dad says it back a bit dryly. “Congrats.”

Can’t say you’re surprised, he didn’t like Henry at first either.

“She’s the one that helped me get this one through her teenage phase,” your uncle says and pats your shoulder to give it a small squeeze.

You look up at the both of them and smirk before glancing at your dad.

“I can’t say she made it hard,” Maria adds. “She was good…up until she left.”

You scoff and look over at her with a smirk. “Mama,” you whisper. “Besides, I wasn't a teenager then, I was 22.”

“You acted like one,” she rebuttals.

You roll your eyes in a lighthearted manner and shake your head, while your uncle grabs your shoulder and interjects with a lighthearted tone. “How old are you now, Sunny? Old?”

You snap your eyes to him and get ready to spat back, but he continues. “You even have gray hair there.” He points to the side of your head.

Your eyes go wide and you pick up your spoon to see your reflection through it, but he begins to snicker.

“Oh wait, it's just dirt.” He laughs.

You scoff and push his arm off you. “At least I can wash mine off, unlike you,” you counter and use your eyes to point to the white hairs on his side.

He snickers and you glance away, catching your dads gaze and slowly frowning as you catch that same hurt look you caught earlier. Your uncle Tommy notices a glimpse of your tension and sighs before breaking it. “How ‘bout a tour?”

Maria nods. “Yeah.”

Once you’re all completely done with your food you step out again. And you're not obligated to tag along, you knew this place already, it was home, but you want to accompany Ellie until she and your dad get some place to go for however long they’re staying—or correction for however long she’s staying, who knows if your dad has changed his mind about letting your uncle take her.

If he doesn’t then….you’ll go with her and your uncle. Even if being surrounded by the tall walls of Jackson made you finally feel completely safe, and let you drop the habit of needing to look over your shoulder every few seconds. Here you also didn’t have to live on the edge hoping that some infected wouldn’t creep up on you, or some fucker wouldn’t jump you out of nowhere. But if it meant being her one piece of support after your fathers abandonment, then it would be worth it being gone for one more month. Just for her, not for your dad.

“We settled here about seven years ago, just a handful of us then,” Maria tells Ellie and your dad. “That section…”

Her words trail off as suddenly you’re startled by an arm thrown around you. And when you snap your head over to your side, Apollo is next to you with a smile on his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” You quip as you fall behind the others doing the tour.

Apollo snickers. “Just checking you’re not some sort of hallucination.”

You roll your eyes and look ahead again. “I’d be a pretty cool hallucination,” you mumble and catch Ellie glancing at you over her shoulder when she doesn’t see you near her.

“Yeah,” Apollo agrees. “Good thing you aren't though.” He moves his other hand toward you to offer you a piece of dry meat. “Jerky?”

“Please,” you scoff and meet his gaze from the corner of your eyes. “I’ve had enough of jerky for now.” You then begin to smirk and hold his gaze as you throw him a reminder. “Aren't you supposed to be working bum?”

Apollo shrugs. “I was, but again, just checking on you, and…” he trails off and holds the piece of jerky in his mouth to reach into his back pocket and pull something out. “…give this to you.”

He pushes his hand towards you to show the Mariah Carey Daydream casette in his hand. “For you,” he says as he pulls out the piece of jerky from his mouth.

Your grin immediately widens and your eyes twinkle as you stop to take it from him. “Oh my god,” you squeal. “Where did you find this?!”

Apollo steps back and folds his arms over his chest to shrug smugly. “I have my ways. But I thought of giving it to you for Christmas when I saw you, but then I thought, why not give it to her now as a welcome home present.”

You meet his gaze with a smirk. “You were thinkin’ of me?” You tease.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He quips lightheartedly.

You shoot him a smirk, and he holds your gaze to mirror the gesture for a lingering moment before you look down at your gift and smile softly. Albeit, you then can’t help but step forward to throw your arms around him.

“Thank you,” you whisper and hold onto him tighter, feeling your heart flutter, and a warmth that wants to mend the bleeding gap that was on it.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back and rubs your back softly. “I missed you, you know.”

You smile sweetly and try to fight the tears that threaten to rush out at the simple feeling of this embrace. “I missed you too,” you redirect softly, but suddenly begin to feel a twinge of guilt now stab at you as you feel comfort and yearning for him in his embrace.

“Mia is at home,” Apollo says and pulls back to face you. “I haven’t told her yet so it can be a surprise.”

You smirk. “I’ll make her shit her pants.” You snicker.

“I’ll see you at home later, yeah?” He queries in a way that makes it seem like he’s almost afraid you would leave again. “I have a bottle of tequila and a movie of your choice ready for you for later.”

“Can’t wait,” you assure him with a sweet smile playing on your lips.

Apollo begins to walk back and nods as he holds your gaze for a lingering moment before he turns and walks off to go back to work. You now put your gift away and catch back up with your group heading to the barn.

“Who’s that?” Ellie immediately asks once you’re by her side again.

You glance at her and scoff softly before you answer. “My…best friend, Apollo.”

Ellie scoffs and begins to smirk as she turns her head away. “Okay,” she mutters.

You squint your eyes in confusion and immediately press her hint of smugness. “What?” You giggle nervously.

Ellie shrugs before she glances at you and bats her eyelashes as she just simply repeats herself. “Okay.”

Before you can further question her she runs ahead of the group as they’re entering the sheep pen.

“Hey, Joel, check it,” Ellie now directs to your dad, and proceeds to mimic the sheep to tease him. You would’ve laughed but she was just teasing you so you keep quiet and follow them.

“So are you, like, in charge?” Ellie asks Maria.

“No one person’s in charge,” Maria says. “I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.”

“Everything you see in our town,” your uncle adds. “Greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.”

“So, uh,” your dad interjects, making you glance at him. “Communism.”

Your uncle sniffles. “Nah. Nah, it ain’t like that.”

No it is that. Exactly that.

“It is that,” Maria corrects him. “Literally. This is a commune. We’re communists.”

You smirk, and end up sharing an amused look with your dad before you both glance back at your uncle stopped behind you looking a bit baffled.

“No way!” Ellie exclaims, making you drift your attention back to her and noticing her rushing toward a cute brown foal.

“That’s our newest one,” Maria shares. “Couple months old. You wanna pet her?”

You smile and rush towards the foal too.

“Yeah, what’s her name?” Ellie asks.

“Shimmer.”

“Shimmer,” Ellie repeats as she begins to caress the little baby horse. “You’re so beautiful.”

You lean against the gate and scratch the side of her jaw.

“Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower,” Maria adds on, correctly of course. “Some new clothes. We can put Joel and Ellie in the empty house across the street from us.”

You pull your hand away from the horse and peer over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” your uncle agrees. “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s got the heat goin’ in it.” He nods. “Could do worse.”

“Oh,” you add. “We have been.”

Ellie nods in agreement, but your dad quickly rebuttals you. “We’ve been doin’ fine.”

Yeah cause sleeping in caves and taking watches to make sure you won’t get killed is fine. Whatever man.

“Well,” Maria adds a bit awkwardly. “I’ll take Ellie over there if you two wanna catch up?” She suggests as she looks between your dad and uncle, making you look between both men with curiosity.

Only if you could go too just to snoop and know if your dad would go through with it. And to know how it’d actually go between them.

“Yeah,” your dad agrees and passes a look with your uncle. “Okay.”

“Joel,” Ellie whispers with concern.

“You’ll be fine,” he assures her and walks off with your uncle without another word, making her watch him as he did so.

“Come on,” you encourage her and grab her shoulder to gently nudge her ahead towards Maria

Ellie begins to follow, but spares one more glance at your dads retreating figure. Once he’s no longer in view she immediately questions you. “Where are you going?”

“Not far from where you’ll be,” you assure her. “Just down 2 streets, and then a right. I live in a yellow house with a white fence around it. I’ll be there.”

Ellie glances at the ground and frowns deeper, so you nudge her gently and continue to assure her. “You can come over after you’re done showering, if you want. If I don’t answer the door my friend Mia will, just tell her you came to visit me and she’ll show you to my room, yeah?”

Ellie lifts her gaze with unsureness but nods regardless to assure you she comprehends. “Yeah,” she whispers. “Okay.”

Once you see Ellie off you walk to your own house. A place you always hoped you’d return to, a place you longed for on cruel days. Yet when you’re there, past the white fences gate, at the doorstep of your house, it feels…fucking weird. Like some dream. A good dream you were scared to wake up from.

What if opening the front meant waking up? That’d be terrible.

But you can’t know if you stand there, so you let out a deep breath and slowly wrap your hand around the knob. You hesitate for a second and close your eyes to hope it isn’t some dream—fuck. You open your eyes as you turn the knob and slowly push the green creaking door open. And luckily nothing vanishes, nothing comes at you. You walk in and you don’t fall into some dark abyss; it’s warm, it smells like cinnamon and a Christmas morning. All the furniture you can see is the same, Christmas decorations greet you at the entrance bringing the holiday cheer to the house.

When you close the front door behind you and you take your shoes off at the entrance, happy tears fill your eyes, and a wobbly smile spreads on your lips. You’re home! Home!

You laugh softly with relief and feel tears actually rush out of your eyes.

“Who’s home?” You hear a familiar voice ask from the hall.

You wipe the tears off your cheeks and walk towards the hall in a giddy silence as you also hear footsteps approach. Once you make it under the hall's archway you stop at the same time your friend does only mere inches away from her.

You begin to grin brightly, while she stands there with her eyes widened with disbelief.

“Hi, Mia,” you greet her.

Said girl studies you, the dirty outfit you’ve worn for months, she studies your face and looks into your eyes in that stunned silence that paralyzes her. Meanwhile you give her time to grasp your presence and study her too; her hair is still short due to her fear of having it pulled by infected like when she was young, it’s still dyed like last time, and she’s remained ageless.

“Wh-how?” She stammers before she closes the gap left between you with an embrace that almost knocks you back.

“Hey,” you murmur happily.

“Apollo was just here,” she says by your ear. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah, he wanted me to surprise you.” You pull back and grab her shoulders. “I've missed you.”

Tears roll down her cheeks, and her smile wobbles. “I missed you too,” she redirects. “So much. I was so worried.” She hugs you again and lets out a relieved sigh as she holds you in her arms.

Along with Apollo and Atlas, Mia was one of your oldest friends too. She was a firefly like them and you, she was also your best friend. You all basically grew up together when you were with the firefly’s, you were all unbreakable.

“Did you just get here?” Mia asks and pulls back to turn you around and lead you away from the hall. “Have you eaten already?”

You nod. “Yes, I ate just a few minutes ago, and yes I just got here….with my dad actually.”

Mia stops, making you stop along with her. “What?” She queries and turns to face you. She looks into your eyes to try and read your emotions, but she instead questions you more. “How are you feeling about that?”

You let out a deep sigh that makes your smile falter, and simply shrug. “I don’t know…besides angry, I don’t know where I’m at, but I guess we’ll see won’t we?”

Mia hums and caresses your shoulder, and smiles a lot softer. “I’m so happy you’re back home. You must want to take a shower, and sleep, so I’ll leave you be.”

Yeah until maybe an hour later where she’ll be checking on you.

“Your room has been untouched so everything is in its place,” she adds, and now walks you around the kitchen to walk you to your room like if you’re new and need a tour. “You’ll just need a towel which are out in the closet, you’ll need blankets, I can get those for you, uh, a razor, new sanitary stuff, I can go…” she continues on but you tune her out as you open the door to your room. And as she walks forward you stop just in front of the doorway.

“….We can bake something later,” you tune Mia back in. “We can make your favorite for dinner, Apollo and Atlas should be home then”

She was right, your room was untouched, every piece of furniture was in its place, every decoration and accessory was left the same way you left it. There wasn’t even dust, and didn’t smell odd, which is probably thanks to Mia; your room actually smells like flowers, oddly enough.

“Yeah,” you agree mindlessly with a nod. “Sounds good.”

Your picture wall was still up and well kept, your posters aren’t ripped, it’s all clean.

“Okay,” Mia says as she turns to walk out of the room. “I’ll leave you now and go get that stuff. Need anything else?”

You follow her leaving figure with your eyes and shake your head. “Nah, but if you are leaving mind leaving the front door unlocked, a girl named Ellie might come over so if you aren’t here and I’m in the shower she can just walk in.”

Mia looks immediately curious over who you mention but she doesn’t probe now, she’ll do it later, you’re sure of it. “Okay, I’ll leave a note then.” She lets you know and grabs your door handle to begin closing it as she walks out. “I missed you.”

You shoot her a sweet smile and quickly counter. “I missed you too.”

She offers you one last smile before she closes the door behind her, letting you turn back to fully take in the fact that you’re now standing back in your room—it’s fucking unbelievble, it fills you with happiness and comfort. And as if it’s your first time you walk to your closet first and pull it open, you run your fingers along all the clothes that are hung up and smile.

If you could describe your room to someone, let’s say Ellie, in a few words it would be Old Hollywood meets vintage old money aesthetic—albeit a post apocalyptic version considering you can’t fully fill your room with all the things you want and need….

Sucks…

Anyhow, you then skip on forward to your brown and gold vintage round vanity mirror, and the first thing you notice that wasn’t on it last time is a bouquet of fresh flowers with a small note.

‘Welcome home - Atlas & Apollo’

You smile and tuck the note back to its place to then swipe your fingers across the counter, making sure not to touch the few perfumes and fragile trinkets you had collected. You then proceed to walk to the corner of the room to brush your fingers along the strings of your guitar as you walk to your shelf with music records, cassettes and movies; it’s all still there and now you can add another to your collection, thanks to Apollo.

After that you then walk to your picture wall to study every single picture with a faint smile. The one that makes you the happiest though is the picture strip of Sarah and you; it’s one you had taken in one of those photobooths. Alas it’s when you see the family picture of Sarah, you, and your dad that the happiness turns to sadness, and that smile falls to a wobbly frown.

What would be of your lives now if she had lived? What would she say about your estrangement with your dad?

Would she be mad at the both of you?

Probably.

You were a little family, you were too young to know if it was anything other than perfect, but it worked…you were happy then….

God you miss her….him too. He’s close, here now in Jackson, but it feels like you're strangers. Strangers forced to be together, forced to travel together. You miss him and your relationship. The man he was wouldn't return, but you’re okay with the man he is now, as flawed as he is you’re okay with him, as tainted as his past is you’re okay with him. But, what you are…are strangers.

——

A deep relaxed exhale leaves your lips as you find comfort on your mattress, in your clean clothes, and refreshed body after a long and deep shower.

Fuck that felt good, it’s like you took decades of dirt off you. It’s like you feel fucking lighter because of it now too. Maybe a week-long sleep would suit you well, maybe you can even hibernate like a bear, that’d be nice.

You smile to yourself and only sit up to put on your headphones, and turn your music on blast now that you don’t have to worry about what’s around you—You’ll go deaf your uncle Tommy and Mia would say, but who cares, it’s fun getting lost in the music.

That’s what you do listening to the cassette Apollo gave you. However, not for long because you then feel a nudge on your leg, and when you sit up there Maria is with a very deep purple jacket in hand.

“Hey,” you greet her as you pull your headphones down to your neck. You then look around for Ellie, but she’s not here. “Where’s Ellie?”

“I left her at the house,” Maria says. “I went to grab her this.” She lifts the jacket in her hand, and you scoff in amusement.

“It’s very purple,” you point out.

“Plum,” she corrects you and sits by you on your bed. “I just came to check on you, make sure you were settling in well.”

You sigh with relief and nod. “Yeah, it feels good being back home and showering, and changing clothes.” You let out a deep exhale and fall back on your bed. “I missed it, never let me leave for that long ever again.”

“I tried that the first time, you fought against logic,” she argues.

You shrug to brush her off. “Let’s call it an existential crisis, yeah?” You snicker.

Maria lets out a long sigh that means nothing good, so you sit up and narrow your gaze on her.

“What?” You immediately question.

Maria glances down and doesn’t hold back. She never did. “How did you end up with the cause of that existential crisis?”

Oh yes, you should've known she wasn’t going to leave it alone.

You blow out air and begin to fiddle with the string of your headphones. “We ran into each other at…KC. We were coming to the same place so we decided to travel together.”

Maria scoffs. “Months on the road and nothing seems mended,” she says. “Did he even try?”

You swallow thickly and shake your head softly. “No, but,” you add and pick at the fluff on your sheets. “It’s not like I tried either…if it wasn’t for that girl I don’t think I would’ve stayed with him.”

There’s a moment of silence before she picks on that. “Who is she?”

No one can know Ellie’s immune, as much as you trust Maria, it’s now up to your dad and Ellie to tell who they want, not you.

“A girl, some important firefly’s daughter he was ordered to deliver,” you lie and look up at her so she wouldn’t find you suspicious. “That’s all I know. He isn’t much for sharin’.”

Maria hums and doesn’t seem to find you suspicious so she moves on. Thankfully.

“Look, you’re an adult, you know what’s right from wrong, but you have too much of a good heart….”

You blink and avert your gaze to sigh.

“I don’t want to see you tormenting yourself any longer because of that man y/n—”

“He’s my dad, mama,” you cut her off with no anger or judgment, you cut her off quietly, sadly. “I can’t….” You pause and draw in a deep breath as you feel the need to cry slowly building up. “I can’t just,” you sigh, “forget him. No matter how much he’s hurt me. I can’t do that to him…or her…she’d be devastated.”

Maria carefully grabs ahold of your hand, making you lift your eyes to meet her soft yet hard gaze.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” Maria adds softly.

You offer her a comprehensive nod.

“Your uncle Tommy and I are always here, we’re here for you no matter what,” she continues and this time begins to caress your cheek. “You don’t need him. If those plants are dead there’s no need to waste water.”

You stiffen and draw in another shaky breath. You don’t add anything in his defense, you can’t come up with anything else to say but what you already put out.

“Whatever happens to that girl,” she adds on in your silence. “You protect her from him—”

Now you have something to say. “He’s not a bad guy,” you cut her off and meet her gaze with a pointed glare. “He’s just…tough because of what he’s lived through. But he’s not a bad guy.” You understand that now.

Maria raises her chin and doesn’t retreat. “He left you, his own daughter, tell me if that makes him good?”

You blink rapidly as you’re cut off guard by her comment.

“I’m just looking out for you,” she further explains herself. “You’re my family, I love you as if you were my own daughter which is why I just want to protect you.” She pulls her hand away and stands up. “And that girl doesn’t deserve to have her heartbroken by him.”

Maria then waits if you’d say something, but there was nothing you could add anymore, so you let her leave.

“I’m taking Ellie to the movies, enjoy the night with your friends, okay? And at night if it’s hard to sleep, the door will be open, you can sleep in your old room.” She offers.

You break your eyes from the bed to look at her in front of you and nod slowly. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

“If you don’t come tonight then come over for breakfast tomorrow, I can make pancakes.”

“Okay sounds good I’ll be there.” You assure her and offer her a very faint smile.

Maria walks to the door and lingers there for a moment before she walks out and closes the door behind you, letting you then throw yourself back to contemplate what was just discussed. She’s right about Ellie, but maybe he deserves time to explain himself to you, even after you said you’d be done with him. He deserves one more chance, if he doesn’t want to try and heal what’s broken then…you’ll stay true to your word and be done with him, for good…

You sigh and slide your headphones back on before flipping around on the bed to attempt and get lost in the music again.

However, now! Now…agony and grief slams back into you just as you were doing good today not thinking about Henry and Sam. All because of the stuffed giraffe on your bed that reminds you of them.

It happens all the time, one minute you think that you’ll get over it, that you’ll heal past that grief and let them be beautiful memories, but it hits you like a ferocious wave. And it’s hard to swim up when it does, you’re slowly drowning each time, sinking deeper and deeper. Not only that but looking at your dad everyday doesn’t make it any easier, there’s just more force that pushes you further down.

Funny and unexpected enough though, it’s been Ellie who has been such a….relief, a breath of fresh air, that ounce of hope that helps you get over the surface. Without her honestly it would’ve been hard getting back home.

Still…as of now it’s taking you again, that damned wave, so you take your headphones off and leave your music on the bed to instead grab the stuffed giraffe and walk outside to your backyard.

The precious meadow that you had grown is under a blanket of snow, much like everything else outside, so you can’t find a bit of bliss there. However, there is something new outside connected to the small white fence that surrounds the cement patio, a wooden bench swing with a canopy and all, hm.

It’s smooth, sturdy, and nice. Now you don’t have to get your ass wet on the snow. Maybe your uncle Tommy built it? Or maybe Mia’s boyfriend built it for her, he thinks himself a carpenter.

Whatever the case, you sit down and just ponder in the silence, watching the stuffed giraffe in your hands and thinking about them; about Henry most of all. You let time pass even as you begin to get cold, and don’t really come back to reality until you hear the backdoor close behind you.

When you sit up and look back you see your uncle Tommy walking to you.

You put the stuffed giraffe down and then beam at him. “Hey!” You greet him.

He offers you a sweet smile and pushes the gate open to walk over to you. “Hey, Sunny,” he greets back. “I’m sorry I let myself in, there was a note on the door.”

You shake your head and pat the open space by you. “Don’t worry about it,” you assure him and watch him study the bench with a smirk.

“Apollo built this for you, did you know?”

You blink in surprise and shake your head as your heart begins to flutter. “No, I didn’t.”

He hums and takes his seat, but rubs the armrests. “Yeah, he said that it’d be a good touch so you wouldn’t have to lay on the grass all the time. Or if you didn’t make it back home then it’d be hell of a memorial...it wasn’t really funny then,” he laughs softly. “But it is now.” He clasps his hands on his lap and glances at the stuffed giraffe before meeting your gaze. “He’s always had a sweet spot for you. He’s a good guy.”

You slowly grin and drop your head to nod. “I know.”

Is he implying something?

“Did you talk to my dad?” You probe and glance up at him. “You guys catch up?”

Your uncle lets out a deep sigh and nods stiffly. “Something like that. We…sorta got into an argument.”

You click your tongue and nod slowly in comprehension. “Sorta?” You probe.

“It wasn’t big but you know how he is.”

You nod. “Yeah,” you sigh.

Your uncle notices the frown and the sadness return in your eyes, so he presses you. “You, have you talked to him?”

You look on ahead at the snow covered meadow and shrug. “Sorta. We talked when we first reunited in KC, but after….after I just got mad at him all over again. I haven’t talked to him since.”

“Is that what has you all down?” He asks and hits you right where it hurts. He knows you too well.

Your eyes sting and your throat begins to feel all clumped up with all the emotions that rapidly build up, but you hold it back as best as you can and try to assure him. And yourself. “I..I don’t want to ruin today.” You offer him a strained smile. “We can talk about it some other day.”

Your uncle shifts in his seat to face you better and doesn’t brush it off. “I cleared up my whole day today for your dad, and for you. I have time to talk. Talk to me.”

He was never one to shy away from an emotional conversation, not with you anyway. Not like your dad. Your uncle Tommy was good that way, open and understanding. Not closed off and dismissive. You owe who you became through all the tragedy to him. It’s sad to admit but if you had been completely raised by your father you would have turned out like him perhaps.

Yet it’s quite hard saying what comes to mind. You part your lips to try and speak, but all you can muster is a shaky breath as you clutch onto the stuffed giraffe.

Your uncle doesn’t press you, he waits until you can finally mutter out.

“Can you tell me…” you pause briefly and glance down at your hands. “If somethings wrong….with me?” You ask in a quivering voice and slowly look up at him, catching his confusion and disbelief.

“My dad left rather than staying with me….and,” you continue through tears. “…the guy that I…loved killed himself rather than wanting to be with me. And I know it sounds selfish, h-he was just grief stricken, his little brother died….but we were partners…and,” you sniffle. “And he left me. So please be honest with me, tell me that I’m no good, that I’m a failure because that’s what I feel.”

Your uncle Tommy lets out a shaky sigh and immediately grabs your face to wipe away your tears and comfort you. “There is nothing wrong with you, baby, nothing. That guy…seems like he couldn’t handle what he felt, it happens, but you had nothing to do with it. And your dad,” he exhales and caresses your cheek. “Your dad did what he thought was best because he loves you. Losing your sister took a lot from him, but that doesn’t mean that somethings wrong with you, he loves you, and leaving was his way of showing it.” He says try and comfort you, and then pulls you in for an embrace, but you only sob more in the comfort of his arms.

You can hardly breathe, your chest feels heavy, your mind is racing, and your heart feels like it was going to jump out of you. Now you couldn’t hold anything back.

“I couldn't help him, he got bit and I couldn’t help. I couldn’t save Henry either, I should’ve just snatched the gun from him but I froze, and I couldn’t help him…just like I couldn’t help Sarah…” you spill out now through sobs.

Your uncle pulls back and grabs your shoulders to keep you close so you’d listen to what he had to redirect. “Sarah was not your fault, you understand that? There was nothing none of us could have done, especially not you, you were only 4. You understand?”

You keep your eyes averted and nod. But that isn’t enough for him.

“Look at me y/n,” he orders, causing you to slowly raise your eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. And I know I don’t know those people you knew, but one thing I am sure about is that it isn’t your fault what happened to them.” He wipes more tears off your cheeks and leans in closer so you’d listen intently. “You cry as much as you want, grieve as long as you need to, but you move on, you keep living for them. You understand? Don’t lose yourself, that’s the worst thing we can do. You understand me?”

You nod through heavy tears and get pulled into a tighter embrace that you sink into, that you bask in for a moment without saying anything. All until your heart slows down, and your head isn't filled with so much noise.

“Thank you uncle Tommy, thank you for listening,” you whisper and pull back to face him with a gentle smile. “I missed you.”

He offers you a sweet smile and wipes away more stray tears. “I missed you too, Sunny.”

You sit back and watch the delicate snowflakes begin to fall from the sky. You sit in silence next to your uncle with a much lighter feeling on your chest.

“I have to tell you something,” your uncle breaks the silence with an obvious nervous voice.

You blink and look at him with a teasing smile and a curious gaze. “What? Oh my, don't tell me…are you pregnant?”

Your uncle meets your gaze and doesn’t laugh even if you said it as a joke, he instead lets out a deep breath and just holds your gaze with the same nervous look that clues you in that you might have guessed right.

“Are you?” You ask seriously now and lean in.

He averts his gaze and nods, making you slowly begin to grin with utter fucking joy. “That’s amazing news, uncle Tommy!” You exclaim and jump off your seat out of excitement. “That’s like, the best news ever.”

Yet you couldn’t help but begin to feel just a bit envious. You were happy, excited, of course you were, but you couldn’t help but feel a smidge of envy. You never thought of that before, you never yearned for that, a family of your own; you were younger, hurt by your own issues with your dad, there was too much going on in your head to even think about that, you wouldn’t have made a good wife nor a good mother. But now after returning from your country wide trip, now after hearing that your uncle's family is growing, there’s this want growing in your own heart. There doesn’t even need to be a baby, but a partner would be nice.

“Why the long face?” You press as he doesn’t seem to match your excitement.

Your uncle sighs. “I'm just nervous, that's all. I’m very fuckin’ nervous, you know it’s going to be a whole human being. I just don’t know…” he trails off.

You giggle and sit back down next to him. “You have nothing to be nervous about, you’re gonna be a good father,” you assure him. “You might not be mine, but you were—are like one, and you did good.”

Your uncle meets your gaze with a soft look and a soft smile. “Thank you, Sunny,” he says.

You grin brighter at him and can’t help but get even more excited. “I’m finally gonna have a cousin, man. I mean I would have appreciated one like 20 years ago, 22 years ago, but I can teach them things now. I’m wiser now.”

He chuckles and then corrects you. “Sister,”

You snap your eyes to him and stiffen.

“You might not be mine, but you are like my daughter.” He says with a smile. “Mine and Maria’s.”

Your eyes water again, but you hold back your tears now and just laugh softly. “Can I hug you now, or do you want to celebrate with a shot?” You add.

“One wouldn’t hurt, but I’ll take that hug too,” he says and lets you throw your arms around him for a tight embrace.

“Thank you for telling me, I needed to hear some good news.”

He smiles and caresses your back. “I’m glad. I’m happy it made you smile.”

You giggle and pull back to shoot him another beaming smile.

He smiles now too and interjects. “Thank you, I needed that too. Made me feel better.”

You lay down on his lap and can’t stop smiling over the news. He sits back and lets his arm rest on you to enjoy each others presence and relish in the joy he brought.

“Don’t push me in the snow,” you warn him as he begins to make the swing sway back and forth. “I just took a shower.”

He scoffs. “Don’t give me ideas, ‘cause I’ll do it. Unless you’re gonna go snitch to your daddy now that he’s here.”

You giggle. “Don’t give me ideas.”

He slowly slides his hand to your back and applies a small amount of pressure, making you stiffen and hang onto the bottom of the seat. “Don’t,” you warn him.

“I ain’t doing nothin’.” He chuckles.

You turn and look at him with a pointed glare, but all he does is smirk mischievously. He then moves his arm back where it was so you turn back to face ahead.

Yet that’s when he gets you and pushes you off the seat, making you fall in the snow.

“Oops,” you hear him say.

You slap your hands on the cold ground, and slowly sit up on your knees to wipe the snow off your face roughly as you turn your head to glare at him.

“Go on,” he says with a stifled laugh. “Bring out your guitar so we can tune it up. Let’s make sure you haven’t forgotten that talent of yours.”

“Fine,” you grumble and stand up to brush the snow off your body. “I’ll get the bottle too.”

You’re only not getting him back because you just got back and because he shared that news with you. You’ll get him back though. Old fucker.

——

*LATER*

The tv played one of your favorite movies, but it played for no one since you and your friends gathered around the living room and got lost gossiping, drinking and playing some card game Atlas insisted on playing to make drinking “more fun”. That cinnamon scent that basked the room was pushed away by the smell of food Mia had made and the alcohol in your cups.

“That’s total bull,” you complain to Atlas about the number of infected he’s killed.

He scoffs. “You can’t say that, you weren’t here.”

You pull away from Mia’s arms wrapped around your neck to lean closer to Atlas. “That number is too high. I don’t believe you.”

Atlas shrugs. “Don’t believe me then, but I did kill that many.”

You roll your eyes and meet Apollo’s gaze to press him for the truth. He however shrugs and just shares a small smirk with you.

“I’ll let you off the hook and tell you how many I killed if you say the truth,” you suggest.

“No,” Atlas blurts and pushes you back to Mia with his foot, making you scrunch your nose in disgust. “You were out in the world, your number doesn’t count.”

“Sure,” you snicker. “You old vanity. You just don’t want me to beat you. You can’t take it. You’re too fragile.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Can we just continue with the damn game before someone here talks about herself.”

You smirk. “I am a very interesting person. Just ask your dad.”

Atlas narrows his gaze and scoffs, whilst you and Mia high five.

“Okay, really did any of us get the number right?” Mia’s boyfriend asks to keep the game going.

You look between them all and shake your head. “Nope, you all drink.”

They all groan and Atlas is the one that mumbles of course. “That’s impossible.”

You watch them all take their shots with a playful smirk, but once you land on Apollo, your eyes linger and your smile softens. However, you then catch him shifting his gaze your way so you quickly look away and just feel his stare.

There’s something different about him now compared to before, the look in his eyes, his face maybe. He was never immature as his little brother is still til this day, but Apollo is far more mature than before. More handsome maybe—well he always was you just never gave it too much thought, you were far too troubled for that. And he was—is your best friend….

Damn….there’s that guilt stabbing at you again.

“Okay!” Atlas exclaims and sits up. “My turn, let’s change this game to the Apollo game.”

Mia groans. “Atlas that game is stupid. We know everything about each other—”

“Y/N’s been gone,” Atlas cuts her off. “So, let’s go on. Remember we make a statement about her and if it’s true she drinks, and you are then you drink, okay? Okay! Come on now SunnyD get up.”

You roll your eyes and sit up to drag yourself between Apollo and Mia.

“Okay,” he keeps yelling and does a drum roll on the ground. “You’ve been in love.”

Fuck.

You swallow thickly and get ready to answer, but a knock then raps on the door at that precise moment. Much to your excitement actually.

“Oh!” You jump up. “I’ll get it, you know how much I’ve missed actually answering a door without fearing for my life.” You run over to answer the door, and Achilles gets out of the couch to follow you to the door.

And much to your surprise once you open it you see your dad outside.

“Daddy,” you mutter in disbelief. “Hey.” You sligtly furrow your brows in confusion due to his very much vivid presence.

Your dad averts his gaze to stare at the ground and swallows thickly before stating his reason for this late visit. “Can we talk?” He asks.

Your heart skips a beat, and you grow speechless for a second. “Uh….sure, come in.”

He looks up at you and shakes his head. “No,” he says and glances past your shoulder to steal a glance at all your friends sitting in the living room listening in. “Can we take a walk?”

Must be important if he bothered to come all this way. “Okay,” you whisper and open the door wider. “Come in, I need to grab my jacket and my shoes.” You step aside and he shuffles inside awkwardly, causing the curious dog to sniff him before he runs back to Apollo.

“Uh,” you interject and walk to the end of the hall. “Now that you’re here, meet my friends from when my uncle Tommy and I were fireflies.” You point to Mia first. “That’s my friend Mia. And that next to her is Arthur, her boyfriend. Over there,” you point to the dark haired boy. “Is Atlas, and,” you shift your eyes to Apollo and smile softly. “That’s Apollo. Guys,” you breathe out. “This is my dad, Joel.”

Mia offers him a very faint half smile and simply waves, and her boyfriend does the same, whilst Atlas smirks and throws up a peace sign and a very quick greeting. “‘Sup.”

Gosh.

“Hi,” Apollo greets more properly, but stays sitting down. “It’s very nice meeting you Mr. Miller.”

You glance at your dad and see him just offer them a stiff wave and a dry greeting. “Hello there.”

Better nothing, and better than a gun to their heads.

“Okay,” you breathe out awkwardly. “I’m going to get my stuff.” You offer your friends a quick smile before you run off to your room to get what you need, whilst your mind races and spins with all the different outcomes to what could be said.

He doesn’t seem mad. Maybe it’s about his heart.

Or about choosing…no, it can’t be that. Positive thoughts only.

You let out a deep exhale before leaving your room to join your dad back at the entrance. “Okay,” you encourage him and throw a quick wave at your friends. “I’ll see you guys.” You open the door and walk out to the snowy night with your dad at your heels.

You expect to see Ellie waiting outside, but she’s not here, it’s only him.

“Where’s Ellie?” You ask as he now walks by your side when you exit your yard and now get on the street.

“Uh, she’s at the house,” he answers. “I just…wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

You shoot him a nervous glance and let out a small exhale. “Okay,” you whisper and grow even more nervous. “What’s wrong?”

You catch your dad scratching the back of his head and averting your gaze at all costs. “Just…just give me some time…I’m not that good at this.”

This doesn’t help whatsoever.

“Alright,” you whisper and glance at the falling snow as you take a turn to exit the street you lived on.

“I just,” he interjects and fists his hands. “I just need you to hear me, that's all I want, you don’t need to say anything, you don’t owe me nothin’. I just need you to hear what I have to tell you. Okay?”

You blink rapidly and nod. “Okay,” you whisper.

But he ends up taking another long moment to himself to think of the reason why he brought you out in the cold so late at night. You even pass your uncle's house, his own house that he was given to stay at. You pass lit streets, and only fill the silence with the crunches of your feet against the snow. You make it to the center of town where the large glowing Christmas tree brings cheer to the town.

“I,” he breaks his silence. “I’m sorry.”

You gasp softly and stop in your tracks as his words…words you never thought you’d hear, words he hasn’t spoken in a long time register in your mind.

“I’m supposed to be the one protecting you,” he continues and stops to turn around to face you. “I was the one who was supposed to teach you how to be the person you are now, I was the one who…needed to watch you grow up, but I…I let you down. I left,” his voice breaks. “I left you even if I knew your mother, even if I knew….Sarah would be mad. I left you, I hurt you…” his breath shudders and you can’t hold back your own tears now, no matter how much you wanted to fight them away.

“And I’m so ashamed of it,” he adds as…tears roll down his cheeks. “I am. But I don’t regret it,” he reveals and meets your watery gaze. “Because if I didn’t leave, you wouldn’t be who you are now, a strong, independent woman. You would only be angry like me, you’d be vain, and a monster.”

You shake your head against his words, but don’t say anything, you keep listening to him.

“I just wish I would have done things differently,” he mutters with more tears steaming down his face, tears that shock you to your core, leave you speechless and heartbroken.

“I’m sorry,” he says again in a tearful voice. “I am. There will never not be a day where I don’t regret how I hurt you.” He shakes his head and steps towards you. “And you have every right to keep on hatin’ me, to move on and not deal with me. I don’t blame you, I wouldn't. I just needed you to hear what I owe you.”

You let out a shaky breath and look up to watch the snowflakes dance down from the sky, littering the ground with their white icy texture, and making the ground twinkle against the street lights yellow hue, against the beautiful colors that wrap the grand green tree a few feet away from you. You watch the sky to take in all his words, to gather your own thoughts.

“I…” you murmur against the winter wind that blows past you. “I don’t understand,” you cry and look down at him, but his face blurs because of your tears, and the twinkling lights cloud him and your vision. “Why….why me? I….” you shake your head. “I love too easily…I don’t like to see the reality of things because it makes me sad, I dream too big and too much, I…I’m too boastful,” you sob.

“I’m not strong, I’ve never been. I’ve tried to change for you, I’ve tried to be a better daughter, one—one who you’d be proud of, but I can't, and you can’t ignore it…you can’t,” you shake your head with your quivering lip and step back away from him. “I’m not enough. I'm not perfect like Sarah was, I’m not…important like Ellie, I’m nothing,” you whisper. “You deserve better. You do.”

Your dad lets out a shaky breath and nods as more tears escape past his eyes. “It’s true,” he admits. “You might be a bit boastful, you might see the beauty of the world and hold onto too much hope, your dreams might be too big, but,” he quivers and takes a step towards you. “That is why I love you. I love every bit of it. I have loved it since the moment I held you in my arms for the first time. You…you are everything to me, baby, you are the reason I keep livin’, you are my entire world, and the beauty that this world lost. You are what makes all this worth it, you are everything to me.”

You scoff softly at his words and let out a shaky sob as you find them beautiful yet unbelievable.

“I’m sorry,” he says again and gets close enough so he can cup your cheeks. “I can’t do this without you. I can’t lose you too.”

You grab his hands, you hold onto them as you hold his teary gaze for a moment, before you throw your arms around him.

He’s caught off guard for a few seconds, but he then hugs you back and presses you against his chest and rests his head on yours.

You don’t have the luxury of time, neither of you, and you know you’d only hate yourself if something happened to him and you couldn’t say what you feel.

“I forgive you,” you assure him and hold onto him tighter. “I do. I forgive you.”

He lets out a relieved sigh and clutches onto you as his tears soak your head.

“Will you forgive me?” You ask, and he quickly pulls back to hold your face in his hands and look at you with confusion. “For not trying either. I should’ve tried too. And for that I’m sorry.”

Your dad quickly shakes his head and wipes away your tears. “You have nothin’ to apologize for, okay? Nothing.”

You sniffle and smile softly. “Still, I'm sorry, just take it, okay?”

He scoffs in protest, but nods regardless before he pulls you in for another tight and loving embrace, letting you find comfort in his warmth that wraps around you, and by the sound of his beating heart that eases as you hold him close to you.

“I love you,” he says by your ear. “So so much.”

You laugh softly and nod. “I love you too. I do.”

He gives you one last squeeze before you both pull away from each other and face the Christmas tree in a peaceful silence, hand in hand. You linger there until you remember what you have for him.

“Can I give you an early Christmas present?” You ask rhetorically.

But he still answers. “I don’t have anything for you, and well you shouldn’t.”

You scoff and turn to pull him back to your house.

“Look,” he interjects. “One more thing, about Henry….”

You blink and feel your smile falter.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

You swallow thickly and shake your head. “There was nothing you could do. Nothing any of us could do…” it’s sad to admit now, it tears your heart apart, but it’s true.

“But,” your dad continues. “You’ll be okay?”

You glance over at him and hesitate a moment before you nod softly. “I will. With time. The best thing we can do…is move on.” You know that now after the talk with him, he lifted that weight off you, and helped you from drowning under the depths of the suffocating waters. “As hard as it is, as impossible as it may seem now, we have to live for them, because we don't have the luxury of time….so that’s the best thing we can do, right?”

Your dad lets his eyes linger on you for a moment before he smiles softly. “I would’ve never thought of that…it’s sweet.”

You smile softly and hum, leaving the rest of your walk to your house silent. Once you do reach your house, your friends are still out, but calmer. “Excuse me,” your dad directs at them as you make him follow you to your room.

“Now I didn’t have time to wrap it, but it’s the thought that counts,” you tell him and turn the light on in your room. And luckily the gift is easy to find on your vanity.

“This room is…very you,” your dad comments as you hear him walk over to the corner of your room where your guitar is. “You play better now?”

You scoff and snatch the disc from your vanity to turn and face him. “Yes,” you admit. “I mean I'm not as good as you, but I’m better than I was before.” You grin and then close the gap between each other to hand him his favorite movie, Curtis and Viper 2.

“I never payed much mind to it before, but I watched it for the first time a couple years back, and it’s not bad,” you share. “That is the movie though, right? All I could remember were the funny men from the cover.”

Your dad looks down at the disc in his hands and immediately smiles. “You’re right,” he assures you, letting you let out a relieved sigh. All this time you thought you’ve been wrong—“It’s a great movie,” he adds. “Where you find it?”

You smirk. “I found it in the tunnels at KC. I just never got the chance to give it to you. You like it?”

He meets your gaze and nods. “I love it, baby. Thank you.”

You smile sweetly and clap softly out of joy. He notices your smile and his smile softens.

“It’s not that late yet,” you add, “even if it looks so. My tv works….I can pop it in. If you want.” You suggest.

Your dad doesn’t hesitate—he can’t turn you down, so he nods. “Go on, pop it in.”

You squeal softly and take the movie from him to now head to your small tv. “You can lay on the bed, just take your shoes off.”

He hums, and as you’re putting on the movie you hear your bed sink and shoes thump on the ground. And as overjoyed as you are, someone comes to mind and brings your mood down slightly. Yet you don’t bring her up until you’re laying down next to him watching the previews play with your head on his chest, finding comfort by the sound of his heartbeat and his arm around you.

“About Ellie,” you bring up without shame, hoping he’d be honest. “What are you goin’ to do?”

Your dad lets out a deep sigh and you feel him swallow thickly. “I’m not the man I used to be,” he admits quietly as he caresses the side of your head. “I’m old now. You know that, I’m…not strong enough no more, but…trust me when I say I'm going to do my best by her.”

He’s right about being old, but is he right about letting her leave?

You can’t let her leave with just your uncle Tommy. You know that heartbreak too well, and you know your dad has the best intentions, you wouldn't have seen that yourself before, but hopefully she’ll see it with time. If that’s what he wants. You can’t force him to do anything.

“Alright,” you trust him. “But whatever happens, I’m going with her, I’m seeing her off. For her and for what she can mean to the firefly’s and humanity,” you say softly. “I owe it to Sam, to everyone else that I’ve lost to that infection.”

Your dad lets out a deep breath. “That’s fine,” he says. “That’s good. Your Uncle Tommy plans to take her tomorrow morning. It’s a week's ride.”

You just got home, but fuck it. One more trip and that’s it.

“What about you?” You probe. “What will you do?”

He stays quiet for a moment and watches the movie finally start. “I don’t know.” He breaks his silence.

You sigh softly. “That’s fine,” you assure him. “Just…do what’s best by her, and you. Okay? Promise?”

“I do,” he whispers. “I promise.”

You smile softly. “Good,” you whisper.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

Flashlight?

Check.

Extra clothes?

Check.

Books to read?

Check.

Multiple pairs of fingerless gloves that keeps your hands warm but helps with other purposes?

Check.

New cassettes to listen to?

Check.

Every other little thing that goes in the backpack?

Uh….check!

Weapons?

Need to check those out, but it’s all here. Good. You get off the edge of your bed and once you’re at the door you make sure to be quiet since it’s still pretty early and neither person living here gets up just yet.

However, as you quietly step out of your room you almost run into Mia waiting outside of your door with her arms over her chest, and her dark eyes piercing your very soul—she’s pissed. She knows.

“Mornin’,” you greet her with a small smile.

Mia doesn't return it, or return that same energy. She remains pissed.

“Don’t,” she cuts you off. “Don’t smile at me like everything’s okay.”

She might be shy and gentle, but she’s no one to mess with when she’s upset. Like now.

“You’re leaving again.” She knows. How?

You lose your smile and let out a deep sigh. “Yes,” you admit. “I am but not for long. Maybe just a month this time, or even less. I just need to see someone off.”

Mia shakes her head and her brows furrow deeper. “Can’t someone else do that? You just got home from a 2 year trip. A trip you probably barely survived…”

“Mia,” you interject to try and comfort her concern, but she continues and drops her arms to her sides to take an angry step towards you.

“No. No! We waited, I waited for you for 2 years, everyday I prayed that you wouldn’t meet the same fate everyone else did; my mom, my brother. I waited and now you’re leaving again.”

You swallow thickly and quietly mention who you’re going with this time in hopes that would help. “I’m going with my uncle Tommy. I’ll be back, I came back this time. I promise.”

“No, that’s no excuse—”

“And you can’t make me stay,” you cut her off this time. “I appreciate your concern, I do, but I have to see this girl off, I have to make this worth something…I lost people Mia, a guy I loved, and his brother who I adored…he got bit….” You pause and swallow back thickly. “If taking her might be worth something I have to do it for them.”

Mia seems puzzled by what you said since she doesn’t see the bigger picture, but she doesn’t argue now.

“I’ll come back,” you assure and take another step toward her to take her hands in yours. “I promise. I won’t leave after that. I’ll stay home. Just one more trip.”

Mia drops her gaze and hesitates before she nods softly and whispers, “okay. One more.” She then pulls her hands away to wrap you in an embrace. “Come back, okay?”

You return her embrace and nod. “I will,” you assure her. “I swear.” You give her one gentle squeeze before you pull away to offer her one last smile before you continue your way outside.

Yet, of course, as you walk past your yard, there, against the fence is Apollo with a backpack, and Achilles waiting next to him. How the hell did they know you’re leaving?

Did they overhear?

“Apollo?” You question and come to another stop.

Achilles runs to you and rubs his body against you before sitting by your side now, while Apollo turns to face you as he drops his folded arms down to his sides.

“I can get the horses, you check out the weapons.” He peels away from his spot and steps off the sidewalk, whilst you just look at him in disbelief.

“Hold up, where are you going?” You interrupt him.

Apollo stops in his tracks and just peers back. “I’m going with you and Tommy.” He mentions it casually.

You blink in disbelief and let out a breathless laugh. “What?” You shake your head. “Why?”

Apollo turns around completely and looks almost surprised you’d ask such a question. “I accidentally overheard you and your dad talking on my way to bed last night—”

Sure. Accidental.

“I'm not sitting on my ass here while you’re off risking your life and having all the fun—“

You scoff softly.

“Besides,” he adds in a softer voice. “I don’t want to wait for you to come back home again. I’ll go with you this time.”

You breath traps in your throat out of disbelief over his words, and a soft smile begins to appear on your features. “That’s nice,” you tell him. “Very…but…I can’t be who you want…not yet at least. I lost someone, someone I loved, someone I fell in love with. It’s still a fresh wound, ” you scoff as your eyes begin to sting. “I can’t be who you want, or what you want.”

Rather than being hurt, or upset by your words Apollo smiles. “I loved someone too. I was in love with her too. It hurts too. But,” he adds in a soft voice as he takes a step towards you. “I’m not asking you to be my first love, nor do I want to be yours….we can be each other's last, whenever you’re ready, I’ll wait.”

Tears fall past your eyes and you can only whisper. “Okay.”

He grins, but you step back again. “But I can’t make you come with us. I don’t want you to. Your brother is here, your dad,” you insist. “They need you alive.”

“I can die here too,” he interjects. “It doesn’t matter, y/n, I would go to the edge of earth with you. I would’ve had you asked me before.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help your smile. But as nice as his words are to hear, the answer remains the same. “What if I want you to wait for me here?” You say and now get closer to him. “So you can greet me when I get home. So I can have something to look forward to. A light in the dark.”

“That,” he chuckles softly. “Is the cheesiest thing ever.”

You laugh and nod in agreement, stopping now as you’re only inches away. “Yeah, but will you?” You querie.

He holds your gaze and offers you a soft assuring smile. “I already did, what’s another month or so?”

Your grin widens and you immediately throws your arms around him. He immediately returns the embrace and nuzzles his head on your shoulder.

“Be careful, okay?” He adds.

“I will,” you assure him and linger in his embrace for a moment longer. “You take care too, promise?”

“I promise.”

You smile and pull away to cup his cheek, he offers you a soft smile before he raises his hands to unwrap his scarf around his neck to instead carefully wrap it around yours.

“There, nice and toasty.” He murmurs.

You giggle and hold his gaze for another moment before you pull away before you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, and turn to walk to your uncle Tommy’s house now. You want to look back, but you don’t, you can’t, it’d only make you feel bad for leaving, so you just feel his stare and walk away. You can’t even give it too much or else you’ll feel bad too, you just clear your mind and walk.

Once you make it to the street where your uncle lives you catch him walking out of his own house. He spots you right away, and is rightfully surprised by your presence.

“What are ya doin’?” He asks once you meet halfway in the middle of the street.

You shrug. “Makin’ Maria even more mad.” You glance at his house and nod slowly. “Goin’ with Ellie, and you. Leaving, one more time. And don’t you dare fight me, I’ll fight back.”

Your uncles lips pull into a soft smile and he scoffs as he nods. “Okay then,” he doesn’t question you further, he respects your choice without a fight.

You glance at his house again and sigh. “No pancakes in there, is there?” You ask with a bit of hope.

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Well It’s a good thing I ate beforehand then.” You turn and begin to walk to the house Ellie and your dad were staying at. “Wanna go fetch her?”

He nods. “Yep.”

As he goes inside you wait outside and think about your dad now. He said he was going to do right by her, you trust him, but is he really not going to see her off at the gate or even just outside the house? You said your goodbyes last night just in case, but what about her?

“Y/N?” You hear Ellie’s voice as the front door closes behind her.

You lift your head, and offer her a sweet smile and a small wave. “Hey.”

She stops by you and studies you for a moment in this soft shocked reaction before she probes. “Are you coming?”

You nod and begin to follow after your uncle as he leads the way. “Yep. I’ve been gone from home for two years, what’s another month or so?” You tell her. “Besides, I don’t want to miss another hell of an adventure.” You smirk at her, and she offers you a soft smile. “Is that okay?” You make sure regardless of the relief you read on her face.

“Yeah,” Ellie says without hesitation. “Yeah.”

You offer one more smile before you skip ahead to walk at your uncles side. “Stables and then can we get my rifle and pistol? I’ve felt like I’ve been missin’ something all day. It’s weird.”

He peers back and then glances at you to nod. “Of course. How did it go with your friends? Have fun?”

You nod and begin to get ahead a bit. “Yeah. We had fun, we ate some food, we drank, watched Pulp Fiction—which,” you say and look back at Ellie, “we need to watch by the way, when we get back. Sorry, have you watched it?”

Ellie shakes her head. “I never have, no.”

You smirk. “Great movie. You’ll like it, I’m sure of it.”

“Is it romantic? I prefer more action and scary movies.” She says.

You scoff and shake your head. “Nah, it’s not romantic. You’ll like it, trust me.”

“You make a play based off that too?” Ellie comments, making your uncle chuckle.

You shoot her smirking face a narrowed glare. “No,” you deadpan. “I didn't. I couldn’t bring myself to do that to that movie.”

“No but seriously,” your uncle interjects. “Once we come back you need to tell her to make a play, they’re all surprisingly good.”

“Of course they are,” you quip. “And! What is that supposed to mean?”

He smirks. “Just surprisin’ that’s all. Don’t know where you get that talent from.”

You hum and shoot him a pointed glare, and leave at that as you see the stables coming up ahead.

“I get my own horse right?” You ask and run up ahead.

“You’re sharin!” Your uncle exclaims.

“Beats walkin’!” You comment and slow down as you enter the pen. And rather than waiting for them to catch up you walk in the stables to start getting the horse ready.

Albeit, just as you walk in you stop right away as you catch your dad saddling a horse. You know what it means; he changed his mind about staying. So instead of diving into questions you just smile at him as you meet his gaze, and look back as your uncle and Ellie walk in.

“You come here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asks in an upset tone.

“No,” your dad says. “I came here to steal one of these horses and go.”

He could’ve just asked.

“Well,” your uncle interjects. “I woulda gave you one.”

Your dad pats the horse's neck and looks at his brother. “I know,” he says. “Anyway.” He glances at Ellie. “That was 30 minutes ago, and I guess…” he pauses and walks to Ellie to continue. “You deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy—”

He gets cut off suddenly as Ellie shoves a blue bag of supplies so he can hold, and retorts. “Let’s go.”

Your dad glances at you before looking back at Ellie and adding, “okay.”

Silence follows so you move past them to saddle your own horse since three don’t fit on one. Your uncle helps so the progress moves on faster, but as he does you come to the realization that now he won’t be coming. The only reason he was going was because your dad wasn’t, but now that he changed his mind your uncle stays.

“I’ll make it back before the baby is born,” you break your silence.

Your uncle looks over at you and shoots you a smile. “You better.”

“I’ll make it back before my birthday too,” you add with a playful smirk. “So you better start plannin’, you’ve been let off the hook for 2 years now.”

“You come back and I’ll throw you the biggest party you’ve had,” he feeds to your demand.

You smile softly as you feel sadness in your heart knowing you have to leave him again. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“Wouldn’t expect it any other way.”

You giggle and finish up saddling up your horse to then meet up with Ellie and your dad outside the stable.

“General direction?” Your dad asks your uncle, but he looks to you instead.

“She knows it, she can lead the way.” Your uncle points out. “You remember the school, right Sunny?”

You nod as you caress your black horse's neck. “Yeah. I remember.”

Your dad nods in comprehension, and once he looks back at his brother in front of him they quickly move in and embrace each other. It’s short but sweet, and makes you smile with joy to see that they’re doing okay.

It’s not like it was before, but the love is there.

“There’s a place for you here,” your uncle tells your dad once they’re apart. “For Ellie and you.”

“Countin’ on it,” your dad says, letting your uncle now look at you again.

“You come back now, understand?”

You shoot him a smirk. “Have to. Can’t miss my own party.”

He smiles and lets his eyes linger on you to take in the sight of you one more time.

“Can I borrow that?” Your dad interjects.

Your uncle breaks his gaze away from you to glance at his rifle before meeting your dads gaze. “Yeah.” He accepts and then slides the gun off his shoulder.

“‘Cause Maria took mine, you know?” Your dad says.

“I already said yes, Joel,” he retorts as he hands your dad the gun. “Adios, big brother.”

Your dad offers him a nod before finally moving out. And once you collect your own rifle, pistol, and other supplies you may need, you climb on your horse and head on out. One more time.

But, this time with not such a heavy heart, or a tormented mind.

——

*LATER*

The sound of the gunshot rang against the secluded grass field, and the sound of the bullet breaking a tree trunk echoes out, making you snicker at Ellie’s failure to shoot the close target.

She chooses to ignore you though and shoots again, but once again misses and hits a small pile of snow near the target. And this time you smile at the ground as you shift your position.

She does it a third time, but no luck, so she lets out an annoyed sigh that lets your dad comment. “Wide right.”

Ellie shakes her head in denial.

“You’re flinchin’,” you comment, and unfold your arms off your chest.

“The targets too small,” she rebuttals you and your dad.

“I made it bigger than I should’ve,” your dad mentions and points to the gun. “Eject the cartridge.”

Ellie does so and the bullet falls to the ground first before she argues back. “And I’m not flinching.”

You and your dad share a teasing look before you hum. “Mm-hmm.”

“The rifle just sucks,” Ellie keeps mumbling.

You roll your eyes, and your dad steps forward. “Okay, give It.”

Ellie hands the rifle to your dad with a sigh and another comment. “It doesn’t aim right.”

You crouch down beside your dad as he switches spots with Ellie, and hum again with a little playful smirk on your lips. “Mm-hmm.”

“You’ll see.”

“A deep breath in,” your dad says as he gets the gun ready. “Slow breath out. Squeeze the trigger like you love it.”

“Mm,” Ellie hums as she looks through the binoculars.

“Gentle,” he continues and lowers his head, and closes one eye to look better through the scope. “Steady…nice and slow.”

“You’re gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?” Ellie retorts, making you snicker as your dad looks up at her with a disapproving look.

“It isn’t gonna work. It doesn’t aim right,” Ellie continues, so your dad then hits the trigger gently and the bullet hits the target straight on, causing him to lower the gun and look up at her all cocky.

“You dick,” Ellie quips with a grin.

Your dad shrugs smugly, causing you to snicker at Ellie.

“2 out 2?” You suggest smugly.

Your dad smirks and happily hands you the rifle, making Ellie shake her head in disapproval.

“Watch carefully, kid,” you comment as you scoot further in the middle.

“Don’t get the gun pregnant,” she quips.

“Haha, funny,” you mumble and eject the cartridge as you close one eye and aim at the target. “Now…” you trail as you hit the trigger, and the bullet whizzes out and hits the target inches away from where your dad hit it.

“See,” you taunt Ellie and lift your head. “Can I get a bump?” You offer her your fist.

Ellie scoffs lightheartedly and pushes your fist away. “No,” she grumbles, so your dad gently taps your fist with his.

“You guys suck,” Ellie scoffs and turns around to head back to the horses.

You snicker and push yourself to your given height, and hand the rifle back to your dad to quickly catch up to Ellie. “You just need patience,” you assure her and look around the fields. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

Ellie glances at you and then looks back at your dad following at your tail. “Did it take you time?”

You sigh deeply. “Not much, but it’s not because I had much of a choice, I was forced to adapt, forced to learn everything quickly to survive. It’s not super easy for you, but you have it easier, you’re used to all this shit since you were born in it, I wasn’t.”

“So you’re saying I can be better,” Ellie comments.

You glance at her and scoff as you nudge her to the side. “Sure, practice and then we’ll see.”

Ellie smirks and nods in comprehension. Once you reach your horses you continue on ahead down your path, filling the day with silence at times and conversations that come up at other times. Due to the horses it was faster to get around the land, it was also less stressful since they can pick up sounds neither you might hear.

Luckily though they didn’t catch anything bad, no infected or people, the path was clear and the day was easy, making for a calm night in the spot you settled down at.

“Now that we have time,” you interject and grab your backpack from behind you to plop it down in front of you. “I have a Christmas gift for you Ellie.”

“What? Really?” Ellie queries curiously.

You hum and open your backpack. Since what you have for her is placed on top you look over at her sitting to the side of the campfire and add on. “I gave my dad his Christmas gift early, so might as well give yours early too.” You shoot her a smile, and she glances at your dad with slight shock before getting up from her seat to sit next to you.

“Now keep in mind,” you continue and now begin to pull out her gift. “I didn’t have time to go into town to actually shop well, but I do hope you like it.” You fully pull out her gift and hand it to her. “And it’s not wrapped either so sorry.”

Ellie’s smile turns timid as she takes the brown leather holster from you, but she soon grins once she figures out what it is exactly. “No way!” She exclaims and stands up to hook it around her hip. “A thigh holster!”

“Now you don’t have to be scared about shooting off your ass,” your dad comments.

You giggle and nod in agreement as you watch Ellie now tie the last strap above her knee. “Cool,” she mumbles and tucks her pistol in the holster before quickly sliding it out and pointing at the empty space between your dad and you—“Fast move,” she mutters to herself, and then spins the gun around her finger to try and insert it back in the holster all swiftly, but the gun hits the ground instead.

“Jesus, Ellie,” your dad snaps.

Ellie stifles her laugh so as to not piss your dad off and picks up her gun to put it back. However she then finds the tip hits against something inside so she pulls out the gun and digs her fingers inside, and pulls out a leather necklace with a small piece of wood carved into a neat circle with a butterfly burned onto it. On each side of the necklace, over the wood are small wooden beads.

“Is this…” she pauses and her smile softens as well as her eyes. “Is it for me too?”

You nod. “Yeah. The necklace is adjustable so you can have it where it feels comfortable.”

Ellie grins softly and turns the small wooden pendant and smiles wider.

“It has my name on it—did you do this?” She asks.

You scoff and shake your head. “Nah, my friend did. I can’t do that.”

Ellie looks back at the necklace and shifts her eyes to the other thing around it, something small, thin, plastic and shaped like a dull triangle. “What is this?”

You glance over at your dad and let him answer. “A…guitar pick. Uh…I figure that once we go back to Jackson you’ll need a hobby so you won’t get bored, so I thought maybe you’d like to learn how to play a guitar.”

You smile wider and look back to Ellie, seeing her eyes only twinkle brighter. “You play?” She probes.

He nods. “Haven’t played in some time, but yeah, I do. I taught y/n a bit. I can teach you if you’d like.”

Ellie nods quickly. “Yeah, that’d be cool. I’d like that. Thank you, the both of you. I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you, y/n.”

You shake your head and assure her. “Don’t worry about it. You can make it up for my birthday. My uncle Tommy is throwing me a party.” You share with a sweet smile.

“Oh is he now?” Your dad probes.

You glance at him and nod. “Yep. You guys are invited by the way.”

“I’ll think about it,” your dad teases you, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“By the way,” Ellie interjects as she ties the necklace around her neck. “Why does Tommy call you Sunny? Is it like a middle name or something?”

“A nickname,” you tell her. “But I don’t know why exactly he does, he just does. I’ve never asked.” You shrug.

“He says it because,” your dad cuts in, causing Ellie and you to look over at him. “Back when y/n was a little girl she always had a Sunny disposition, she was always smilin’. As a little baby she was easy to make laugh too, so one time this song by some 70s band with the same name began to play, and he got it from there.”

Ellie smiles. “Sweet,” she comments, whilst you grin and miss your uncle all over again.

At least this time it’s not as bad as before though, because at least now you do have your father, and are closer to Ellie, so they make it all easier now. They make the long days of riding that follow a lot easier, and even make those days seem quicker. Especially because Ellie has a lot of questions regarding the time before.

Like now for example, as you’re riding on horseback through the woods she breaks the peaceful silence with a question. “So the way they ran stuff in Jackson, was how things used to be?”

“No,” your dad answers this question. “The country was too big for that. Back then there were basically two main ways of lookin’ at things. Some people wanted to own everything.”

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hums in comprehension, and your dad continues.

“And some people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all.”

“Which one were you?” Ellie asks.

“Neither,” he says. “I just did my job.”

“Which was…” Ellie trails off as she thinks, and glances at you since you had told her once before. “Building?” She asks.

“That’s right,” he answers. “Houses, stores, that kinda thing. We were called “contractors”.”

“The contractor,” Ellie says in a deep voice, making you grin down at your handle—“that’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” your dad adds on. “We were cool. Everybody loved contractors.”

Really? Hm.

“Nice,” Ellie says and proceeds to rest her head on his back.

You try to think if he’s right, but you were too young before to know otherwise, and your uncle Tommy never said anything against it so your dad must be right.

“This has been ‘Construction corner with Joel Miller’,” you quote in a deep voice.

Ellie and your dad look over at you, and you laugh.

“It’s what Tess used to say.” You let Ellie know, and remind your dad.

Ellie smiles and then adds her own bit. “The Contractor!” She mocks in a deep voice.

You smirk. “The Contractor!” You mock as well. “Joel the Contractor.”

Ellie laughs and repeats what you said. “Joel the Contractor.”

Where is Tess? You may have not known her long, she might’ve scared you a bit before, but she was nice and cool. You’d ask, but you didn’t want to sour the mood, so you went on going without knowing.

Eventually the day turns to night and so as to not exhaust yourselves you camp for the night; this time in a place deeper in the woods.

“Okay,” you add as you stare up at the starry sky. “So if you could name 3 songs to describe yourself, what would it be?”

Ellie hums, and you glance over at your dad that has his back turned to Ellie and you.

“I wouldn’t know,” she mutters.

“Okay,” you nod. “Then to describe each other.”

You have three perfect songs for Ellie.

Ellie goes silent for a second before interjecting loudly in defeat. “Fuck, I don’t know!”

You giggle, and unexpectedly your dad interjects when he’s supposed to be sleeping.

“Three? For you, y/n, Uptown Girl by Billy Joel, Sunny, and,” he pauses and begins to laugh.

“What?” You probe and flip around to face his back. “What other song?”

“That song you sang for my birthday 20 years ago, by that one rapper named after two quarters.”

“Oh god,” you grumble and flip back around to face the sky. “I thought you forgot that! That’s so embarrassing!”

“Wait?! What?!” Ellie exclaims and flips around to face you and your dad. “What song is it?”

“I don’t know,” your dad says. “Tell y/n to sing it for you.”

“Daddy,” you warn. “Don’t.”

“What?” He chuckles. “It was cute, I told ya it was. She,” he continues and looks over his shoulder. “She dressed up as me that day; she wore one of my shirts, put on this fake mustache, and sang this rap song as one of my birthday gifts. It was great, one of my favorite gifts by far.”

You slap your hands on your face to hide your embarrassment.

“Really?” Ellie probes with a snicker. “That’s nice. Do you remember the words, y/n? I’d love to hear them since you know, I’m not that well up to date about the world before.”

Guilt tripping you? Not nice.

You don’t fall for it, you shake your head. “No!” You deny her, and pull your hands off your face to pull your sheet over your face as you drag yourself further in your sleeping bag. “This is over goodnight!”

“Come on!” Ellie presses you, and you can practically feel her grin. “Just one verse!”

You ignore them and pretend to be asleep. They both then try to press you, but you stay defiant and don’t give in. They eventually drop it after relentless teasing, so the night passes, a day does too and so on until finally that day comes when you’re finally close to your destination.

“Here we were,” you say as you bring your horse, and the other two to a stop in front of the intersection. “We’re here.”

“Well,” your dad interjects. “How ‘bout that? Made it in five days.”

“Easy days,” Ellie says, and you keep on moving now towards the city. “I don’t know what Tommy was so afraid of.”

“Still time to find out.”

“Still time to find out,” Ellie mocks your dad using a deep voice.

You glance over at her and scoff in amusement, while your dad shoots her a hard pointed stare.

“The contractorrrr,” Ellie whispers creepily.

You laugh and play along too. “Joel the Contractor.”

Ellie lets out a chuckle and repeats what you said. “Joel the contractorrr.”

You both share a laugh that’s quickly cut off by your dad.

“Quiet, the both of you, we’re going to enter the city now we don't know what lies ahead.”

You stifle your teasing smile and assure them. “Nothin’, the city isn’t wiped out from infected, but it’s not bad considering it’s where the firefly’s come to. Same goes for stragglers and groups. We’ll be on the clear if we head directly to campus.”

“And that’s where they’ll be?” Ellie asks with no laugh or smile now.

When you steal her a glance you see slight fear and worry, so you do your best to come off confident. “It's where they stay,” you assure her. “They’ll be there.”

Hopefully….

A/N- Why can’t the Miller’s just eat pancakes and be happy? Anyway don’t forget that gesture of reader laying her head on Joel’s chest, it’s gonna come back and bite everyone in the ass iykyk

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