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yelena-bellova · 1 year

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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: Dry Your Tears

Plot: Joel, Y/n, Henry, Sam and Ellie make their way out of the tunnel system, but Kansas City refuses to let them leave.

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: tlou ep.5 spoilers, implied s*ut, language, canon-typical violence, knives, blood, death, loss of a child, s*icide, (16+)

A/N: Oh, we’re really in it, y’all. This is the last chapter in which you get any sense of happiness, so hold it close to your heart. It all really goes to shit after this…

As always, and I really need people to read this, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless their age is listed in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Good night, and good luck, my loves ❤️

———————

May 27th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

The referee’s whistle rang through the air, signaling the play was starting. Sarah had the ball, her team was one goal away from winning the season. If she nailed the shot, she’d bring them to victory.

Now, on his own, Joel was one of the loudest and proudest parents at the games. Adding in Tommy and Y/n had made them their own cheer section.

“Go, Sarah!” Y/n yelled.

“C’mon, babygirl,” Joel clapped, “C’mon.”

“Fuckin’ nail it,” Tommy cheered, earning a light knock to the chest from Y/n, “Frickin’ nail it!”

Sarah wasn’t listening to any of them, she was in the zone. She wound her leg back and kicked the ball, it flew through the air and straight through the goalie’s arms.

Y/n screamed and leapt into Joel’s arms, the whole crowd cheered wildly. Joel spun her around, this felt like a victory for all of them considering how much time they’d spent practicing with Sarah.

After celebrating with her team and taking their yearly photo, Sarah bounded over to her family.

Joel picked his daughter up, not caring if he was embarassing her. Sarah hugged him back.

“You were amazing,” he said, setting her back on the grass.

“You’re so freakin’ good, it hurts,” Y/n grinned, wrapping Sarah in her arms.

“Thanks,” the girl smiled up at Y/n.

Tommy high fived his niece, “Calls for a celebration.”

The four of them drove downtown to the ice cream shop. They parked themselves outside at a table in the shade. In celebration of Sarah’s impending graduation, her recent birthday and Y/n and Joel’s one year anniversary, they were driving down to the beach for a weekend.

“Okay,” Joel said in between bites, “I’ve got the confirmation for the hotel printed out.”

“I’m going to the store tomorrow to pick up the food,” Y/n raised her spoon.

Sarah hummed enthusiastically, swallowing her dessert quickly. “Can you pick me up when you do?”

“Yes,” Y/n nodded, “But you can’t run me into debt.”

“Can I come?” Tommy asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

“You will run me into debt,” Y/n replied with a smile.

Tommy reached into his wallet, theatrically handing Y/n a twenty dollar bill. “Beer money,” he clarified.

“Thank you,” Y/n replied, stuffing the money into her jean pocket, “What time are we leaving on Thursday?”

“I figure 9,” Joel answered, “Try and beat the traffic.”

Practical as he was, Joel was also plain excited. This was the first family vacation Y/n was joining them for.

“We’re leavin’ on a Thursday mornin’,” Tommy interjected, “There’s not gonna be any traffic.”

Joel peeked across the table to Y/n, who met his eyes with an equal level of contained enthusiasm. Celebrating one year of her in his life didn’t warrant waiting a single minute longer than necessary.

“Won’t hurt anybody,” Joel responded, shooting his girlfriend a wink.

————————

Come Thursday, the Millers and guest loaded their bags and coolers into Joel’s truck.

“Sarah?” Y/n called from the bottom of the stairs, they were nearly ready to leave and she was still upstairs, “We gotta go, babe.”

“Coming,” she yelled down, skipping out of her room and down the stairs, carrying something in her hand.

“Whatcha got?” Y/n pointed to the small package.

Sarah waved it nonchalantly in the air, “It’s an anniversary present. For you and Dad.”

Y/n’s heart swelled, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did,” she gave a small smile, before scrunching up her face, “Just please don’t make out the entire trip.”

Snorting, Y/n wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck and walked the two of them out of the house.

Joel and Tommy had just finished their thirty minute game of Tetris with the luggage. There were so many bags for only four days and four people.

“No,” Tommy called out, spotting Sarah’s present, “Not one more fuckin’ thing comes into this truck.”

“It’s a carry-on,” Y/n shouted back with a smile, patting Sarah’s arm after, “Be there in a minute.”

Sarah skipped off to the backseat, passing her dad as she did. Joel ruffled her hair before locking eyes with Y/n across the driveway. She looked so natural, standing on his porch with his daughter in her arms, locking up the front door with her spare key. She’d settled into the family so well.

“See somethin’ you like?” Y/n smiled, sticking her nose up in the air and letting the sun hit her.

“Somethin’ I love,” Joel replied, walking slowly towards her. He encircled her waist with one arm, his other hand holding her hip.

Y/n let her hands slide up Joel’s chest, “Your daughter has requested a vow of celibacy from us this weekend.”

Joel chortled, “That’s ‘cause one day she woke up and decided us lookin’ at each other was disgusting.”

“Well, then,” Y/n got on he tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the tip of Joel’s nose, “Save it for the evenings.”

Joel nuzzled his nose against her cheek, savoring the warmth of her skin and the promise of her words.

“What happened to beatin’ traffic?” Tommy teased from the passenger seat.

Rolling his eyes, Joel turned around to his brother and glared at him. Tommy just smirked and tapped his foot against the dashboard.

“Come on,” Y/n intertwined her fingers with Joel’s, pulling him behind her and marching them both to the truck.

“Seatbelts,” Joel ordered as he got in the front seat.

Y/n settled herself in the backseat next to Sarah, who absentmindedly grabbed her hand and started playing with it. Of all the milestones her and Joel had hit in the past year, Sarah’s casual comfort with her was Y/n’s proudest.

“Alright, gang,” Joel started up the car and backed it out of the driveway, “6 hour drive, settle in.”

Y/n and Sarah cheered from the backseat and Joel swore he could feel a physical warmth spread across his chest.

—————————

It took them all day to get to South Padre Island, having stopped for bathroom breaks and lunch on the way, but they made it in one piece.

Their hotel was modest and one of many on the strip that backed straight up to the beach. The view from the balcony was unmatched, nothing but sand and ocean as far as the eye could see.

Their first full day there, they spent all day on the beach. It was early enough in the year that the full force of summer’s heat hadn’t hit yet. Joel stayed with their cooler, messing around on the guitar he’d brought in a beach chair. Tommy switched between relaxing in the shade with a beer and flirting with whatever lucky woman was in their vicinity. Sarah and Y/n walked the shore, searching for seashells.

Leaving Sarah to keep hunting, Y/n walked back to their spot, admiring the sight before her. Joel looked more at ease than she’d ever seen him, strumming away in the cool shade.

“You’re ogling me’,” he said, trying to sound put off.

“You look happy,” Y/n smiled, pushing past the humor.

Joel peeked up over his sunglasses, taking in the wind blowing through her hair and how the sun shone off her skin. “I am happy,” he replied.

Y/n walked around the back of his chair, bending over to encircle his neck. Joel kept on playing, trying to stay focused as she pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

Looking out on the beach, Y/n’s eyes found Tommy, buying some girl an ice cream at a vendor’s cart. She watched Sarah, crouched down in the sand and hot on the trail of a particular shell. With Joel in her arms, and her chosen family happy, she felt like everything in her world was just as it should be.

Y/n rested her chin on Joel’s shoulder, “Me too.”

—————————

They’d celebrated both Sarah’s graduation and Y/n’s anniversary on Saturday night with dinner on the beach. There’d been good food and good laughter, especially when Sarah tried oysters for the first time, managing to swallow the bite with a grimace.

When gifts were exchanged, Y/n, Joel and Tommy had compiled their money to get Sarah tickets to see her favorite band. She’d leapt out of her chair and bear hugged all three of them. For Joel and Y/n’s anniversary, she handed them a CD she’d burned a playlist to. Songs she’d heard them listen to or that the three of them had sung together in the car or while Joel played guitar.

Deep into the evening, when Tommy and Sarah had retired to their room across the hall, Joel and Y/n celebrated their anniversary privately.

Joel’s body weight Y/n’s down, pinning her hands above her head and pressing soft kisses across her face. At some point in the night, she’d slipped on his t-shirt. He was convinced that if there was a heaven on earth, he was in it.

“Promise me something,” Y/n breathed, her lips brushing Joel’s cheekbone.

Joel rubbed his nose against Y/n’s, “Anything.”

Pressed into the bed, completely consumed by the man she loved, with a soft ocean breeze flooding through their balcony window, Y/n was in utter bliss. There was nothing that could have made the moment more perfect.

“Promise me it’ll always be like this,” Y/n whispered, her urging eyes boring into Joel’s, “Even when it isn’t.”

Joel’s grip on Y/n’s hands loosened, letting her slip out of his hold with a need to feel her arms around him. Neither of them were under any illusion that life was without its problems, they’d run into them eventually. But through it all, Joel knew that the one thing that would never fade was their complete and utter devotion to one another. That was forever.

Joel brushed away a strand of hair stuck to Y/n’s face from the ocean’s humidity. He ran the tips of his fingers along her cheek, down her neck, tracing the path his lips had traveled moments ago.

“Always,” he promised, his voice soft, but determined.

The room’s energy was emotionally charged, bringing tears to Y/n’s eyes as she gazed up at Joel. He looked so beautiful hanging over her, it nearly broke her heart. She was so overcome with love for this man, she truly didn’t know if she could handle any more. Joel overwhelmed her in the sweetest way possible.

The moonlight reflected off a single teardrop that slipped down Y/n’s cheek. Joel adjusted himself in concern, taking her face into his hand, “What’s wrong?”

Y/n smiled, she’d never known one could be moved to tears by the simple act of adoring someone. “I just love you,” she pushed past the lump in her throat.

Joel’s breath caught in his chest. Even though he’d heard her say those words a hundred times, something about this utterance felt new.

He stroked his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tear’s streak. They lay intwined, coming alive in one another’s eyes. They’d known for months, really since their first kiss, that they’d be together a long, long time…but there, in a beachside hotel, wrapped in lily white sheets and each other, they knew they could never leave one another.

Joel dove back into Y/n’s lips, his hands slipping under his shirt she wore to hold her hips. He prayed that when the day came for him to die, he’d do so in her arms, her kiss stealing his final breath.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

While the tensions were high the whole way, the five survivors made it through the tunnel system with no issues.

“Do you know where we are?” Joel asked Henry as they made their way through a door. He was still suspicious, nothing was ever as simple as a few tunnels and some luck.

“Yeah,” he answered, “The other side.”

Henry shone his flashlight on a dirty sign stating that it was, indeed, the parking lot to the Bank of America building. They’d made it out. Y/n huffed a sigh of relief, it was a much needed win.

The group headed for the street of the residential area, it was dark and empty allowing them the perfect cover. Joel had still insisted on no flashlights, just to be safe.

Joel led the group, with Ellie, Sam and Henry at the rear, and Y/n sandwiched between. She didn’t particularly feel like being near Joel after the conversation with Henry. She was still trying to shake the memories from her brain, twenty years of wasted energy and not a single one had faded.

Joel didn’t quite know what to do either. He felt at war with himself, a poorly docked ship being drawn out to the open waters against its will. It was getting harder to deny the increasing intensity of his pull to her. Not that it mattered, he still considered her a liar and she hated him with a passion that would never die. But seeing her with the kids, showing the humanity still left in her, had left him unsettled. It was like seeing a home he could never go back to.

“No,” Henry said, having just been signing with Sam, “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because…my plan worked.

“So much damn talkin’,” Joel remarked from the front of the group.

“I’m just saying,” Henry continued, “I delivered. Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house…and we’re out.”

Y/n and Joel wanted to believe that they were home free, but they’d seen more of the current world than anyone else in the party. Things that seemed too good to be true, almost always were.

“So we cross the river and then what?” Ellie asked, “Where ya gonna go?”

“Don’t know yet,” Henry shrugged.

“Well, we’re goin’ to Wyoming,” Ellie announced.

Joel glared back at her, earning a light hit to the arm from Y/n, who glared right back at him.

“What?” Ellie replied, “It’s a huge state, it can fit two more people.”

“Yeah,” Henry stretched the syllable, not any more keen on the idea than Joel, “Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells.”

Y/n drifted to walk alongside Joel, his stubbornness breathing a little bit of life back into her. “If you’ve got any happy pills left in your pocket,” she muttered low enough for only them to hear, “I suggest you take them.”

Joel shook his head, glancing out the side of his eyes at her. He couldn’t decide if her silence or her snark was preferable.

“No, he’ll change his mind,” Ellie said to Henry, “Trust me. This is how it goes, he’s like,” she dropped her voice and added a twinge of an accent, “‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.”

Y/n couldn’t stop the snort before it escaped her, it physically jerked her body forward. When she looked up, Joel’s hardened stare was resting on her.

“That supposed to be funny?”

“It’s hilarious,” Y/n smiled, still trying to contain her laughter, “And you know it.”

“And then I’m like,” Ellie continued, “‘I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like-“

A gunshot flew past them, killing only the levity.

Joel and Y/n ran for Ellie at the same time, colliding with one another in a heap of arms.

“Move! Move!” Joel ordered, shoving both of them forward, “Go!”

The five of them dove for cover behind an abandoned car, crouching on the asphalt.

“Where the fuck is that coming from?” Henry asked, shielding Sam with his body.

“Shut up,” Joel ordered, peeking his head above the trunk of the car to scan the area. As soon as he was semi-visible, another gunshot hit one of the nearby vehicles.

Henry tried to get a look at the house where the fire seemed to be coming from, earning another close call.

“Fuck,” he muttered, grabbing Sam’s hand, “Let’s move. Let’s go.”

“Henry!” Y/n shouted through her teeth.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yelled, not budging.

“Getting the fuck outta here,” Henry called back, barely making it to the other side of the road before another shot blew past them. He rushed him and Sam back to the first car, “What do we do?”

Y/n and Joel’s brains were working overtime, trying to figure out the best possible course of action. Joel, closest to the house he guessed the gunman was inside, peeked out once more and got another near fatal shot. He was right.

“All right,” Joel breathed, “Stay here.”

“What?” Y/n and Ellie exclaimed in unison.

Joel turned to them, addressing Ellie but drifting his eyes to Y/n at the end of each sentence. “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back, and then I’ll take him out.”

“No,” Y/n blurted out, “No fucking way.”

“Yeah, if you go out there, he’s gonna kill you,” Ellie agreed.

“It’s dark and he has shit aim,” Joel countered, “Nobody’s gonna kill me.”

“Then he’s gonna kill us,” Ellie replied.

Joel’s eyes flicked between the kid and the woman behind her. He addressed Ellie first, “Do you trust me?”

Hesitating, but eventually rolling her eyes and nodding, Ellie answered.

Joel looked up to Y/n, silently begging her to listen to him. He’d trusted her when Ellie had revealed her immunity, now he needed her to do the same.

Y/n wanted to be unreasonable and illogical, to stew in her anger a little longer. But Joel hadn’t failed them yet on their journey, this wasn’t the place to start.

“You go around the left,” Y/n countered, “I’ll create a diversion so he won’t see you coming.”

“You stay here,” Joel replied, his voice turning to steel.

It was the first time that Y/n didn’t want to argue. She withdrew her pistol from her holster, “I wasn’t asking.”

Joel was busting his ass trying to make sure she was safe and she was throwing herself into open fire to protect him. He felt sick to his stomach.

Y/n took Joel’s reluctant nod and mirrored it, hoping she looked more confidant than she felt. They both brushed a hand against Ellie’s arm, who was terrified to let the only two people she cared about run headfirst into danger.

Joel and Y/n crossed past one another, he grabbed her arm to stop her. The pain-stricken worry in both their eyes communicated all that they couldn’t out loud.

They took up their positions on either end of the car, cocking their guns and drawing a deep breath. Joel nodded to Y/n, signaling for her to move.

Y/n jumped out from the car and ran for the one directly across from her. A gunshot kissed the air behind her, she slid into the asphalt behind the vehicle like it was third base. She could feel the fear creeping up her spine, threatening to break her, but breaking wasn’t an option. Tess’ last wish rang in her ears; keep Joel safe.

Spotting the next car, in the row, she made a beeline for it, dodging two shots on each side of her. She kneeled behind the trunk, peeking out just enough to fire a distracting shot towards the house.

“C’mon, Joel,” she whispered.

Joel was making his way down the street, Y/n serving as the most perfect and unwelcome distraction. Every shot sent a cold shot of panic through him, terrified that the gunman was going to be too quick for her. Just before making it behind the house, he snuck a look over his shoulder and caught her racing across the street, dodging more fire. It urged him to move faster.

Y/n was getting closer and closer to the house, praying that Joel had made it. When she made a clean run to the next car, she assumed that he’d put a stop to the fight. A final shot rang out, but it had come from a different gun. Joel’s gun.

Y/n slumped against the car and exhaled, he was safe.

Joel felt grief pass over him, a drop of it trickling down his throat, as he grabbed the old man’s rifle. He was about to stick his head out the window and signal to Y/n that they were clear, until a sound caught his ear.

“Anthony…Anthony…” a staticky voice called, Joel tracked it beside the old man’s body and found a walkie-talkie, “Anthony, hold them where they are.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, rushing to the window, “Run!”

Y/n stood up, Joel’s voice reassuring her they were in the clear before she registered his words.

“Run!”

Y/n bolted back toward Ellie, Sam and Henry. In the near distance, she could hear the sound of a truck. The same one they’d been dodging for the past day.

“Run!” Joel urged, watching Y/n’s shadow run straight towards the threat.

The truck’s headlights shone down the street, shining right on Y/n. She collided with Ellie, wrenching the girl ahead of her and racing back towards the house. Behind them, the fleet of trucks were beginning to plow through the rows of cars.

Determined, Joel started to fire at the truck’s windows, trying to take out the driver.

Blindly, Ellie and Y/n began to fire their pistols at the main truck after them. Without being able to take proper aim, their attempts failed, but they kept trying.

Ellie’s gun ran out of bullets as the truck began to gain on her. Y/n wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pushing her to go faster. Ellie tripped, bringing Y/n down with her. Y/n enveloped the girl in her arms, putting her body between the truck and Ellie.

At that exact moment, Joel had fired a perfect shot, taking out the driver and causing the truck to crash through the front of a nearby house. He’d bought them mere seconds, a whole fleet of cars were behind them and their passengers were about to surround Ellie and Y/n.

“Come on,” Y/n urged, pulling Ellie to her feet, “Move.”

They’d barely made it two steps before they were thrown to the ground again by a blast. The crash had somehow started a fire and both the vehicle and the house surrounding it were set ablaze.

The smoke filled Y/n’s lungs, restricting her airways and letting dizziness to set in. The only clear thought ringing through her head was Ellie, save Ellie.

Joel watched helplessly as Ellie and Y/n lay on the ground. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, waiting for them to get up. Henry, a godsend in that moment, darted out from behind a car and pulled them both to their feet.

Y/n stumbled back to the car Henry had sought as protection, blindly reaching for Ellie and making herself a barricade once again.

“You okay?” Henry asked them both.

“Yeah,” Ellie muttered, Y/n gave a breathless nod.

Up above the flames, Joel watched a group of rebels walk through the smoke with guns drawn on his window, calling out orders to raid the house. They’d found him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, hiding behind the wall. Unlucky for them, Joel wasn’t so easy to throw in the towel and lose his life.

Below, Kathleen surveyed the damage, strolling casually amongst the flames. “Dead end, Henry,” she called, “Gonna step on out? Save us some time?”

“Is that her?” Y/n whispered, Henry nodded in response.

“No?” Kathleen asked, her tone was eerily even, “That’s all right. Doesn’t matter.”

Henry looked to Sam, who Y/n had an arm around, and knew what he had to do. “I’ll come out,” he replied, “Just let the kids go!”

“No,” Kathleen responded, “Sorry. The girl is with the two who killed Bryan, don’t think I don’t know that the woman’s back there with you too.”

Y/n shut her eyes, the back of her head digging into the car. She knew she’d die eventually, she woke every day faced with the possibility of death. But she wasn’t about to die before she could get Ellie out west.

Joel’s blood ran cold at Kathleen’s words, his hands squeezing the rifle tighter. He had to fight every instinct to fire a bullet straight through her head.

“And Sam” Kathleen continued, “Well, Sam’s with you.”

“You don’t understand,” Henry yelled.

“But I do,” she said calmly, “I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?”

“He’s just a fucking kid!” Henry called back.

“Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time.”

Y/n’s fear turned to shock and that shock turned to rage. Deep, bitter, twenty year old rage.

Joel watched carefully from his spot, feeling the anger swell in him.

“You think the whole world revolves around him?” Kathleen continued her monologue, “That he’s worth everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”

Henry turned to Y/n and Ellie, bracing himself for his own fate. “Get ready to take him, and run,” he instructed.

“No,” Y/n argued, “I’m not-“

“Yes,” he said, his voice like steel, “Do it.”

Y/n gave in, nodding and taking Sam’s hands with Ellie. “You stay in front of me at all time,” she instructed, reaching out for the girl, “If I go down, you don’t turn back.”

Ellie’s eyes widened, “But-“

“You don’t turn back,” Y/n repeated, forcing her voice to sound strong.

“It’s time, Henry,” Kathleen gritted, her soft voice suddenly dripping with venom, “Enough!”

Henry took a few shuddering breaths before getting to his feet, hands raised in the air. Sam anxiously started to go after his brother, but Ellie and Y/n pulled him back to the ground. The three of them sat there, Y/n and Ellie’s pulses racing as they waited for the inevitable sound, their signal to move.

“It ends the way it ends,” Kathleen said, her calm demeanor returning.

Y/n froze as she listened to Kathleen cock her pistol, squeezing Sam’s hand a little tighter.

But the bullet never came.

Instead, there was a terrible creak from the totaled truck. Ellie scrambled to get a peek while staying hidden, Y/n held up a hand to her and poked the tip of her head out. Just enough to see the car sink into the wreckage of the burning house.

Joel aimed his rifle and came to the window, watching it all happen from above.

Three ominous seconds of silence.

And then they came.

Hordes of Infected came sprinting out of the sinkhole.

Henry rushed back to their spot, Y/n and him shoved the kids in between them and sinking against the car as far as they could. One of the Infected leapt on the hood, a well-timed bullet sinking into its skull.

Joel reloaded the gun, waiting for the next shot.

“Come on,” Henry called, the four of them got to their feet and took off in the direction of the embankment.

Ellie obeyed and stayed ahead of Y/n, who was frantically cocking her handgun. One Infected was chasing after them and she couldn’t get her weapon ready in time.

Joel aimed at the creature trailing Y/n and fired. The body lurched forward, falling on Y/n and causing both her and Ellie to topple to the ground.

Somewhere in their fall, Y/n and Ellie had lost sight of Henry and Sam. Y/n kicked the dead body off of them and glanced up towards the house, she knew who was acting as their guardian angel. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a job to do as well.

“Car,” Ellie yelled, having quickly crafted a plan in her head.

“Stay low,” Y/n responded.

The two of them army crawled their way through the chaos, screams of both the living and Infected filling the air.

Joel tracked their movements, shooting down any Infected that even looked in their direction.

Ellie and Y/n ran the final distance and dove into the abandoned car through an open window. As Infected began to crawl across the behicle, banging against the windows, one of Joel’s bullets took each one out.

“Get to the back,” Y/n instructed.

The two of them crawled over the seats, taking shelter in the very rear of the vehicle. Ellie’s eyes were wide with terror as she watched the scene play through the dirty glass.

Joel saw them make it in, but his relief didn’t last long. He watched as one of the Infected snaked through the window and into their car. His breath trembled, taking aim and realizing he couldn’t do a damn thing to help them.

Y/n and Ellie heard the dreadful snarling together, their heads turning to watch the Clicker flip through the front seat of the car. Y/n raised her gun and took aim.

Click.

She was out of bullets.

Joel’s brain switched off, his primal instinct to protect taking over as he fired relentless shot after relentless shot, trying to take the Infected out.

The Clicker acrobatically made its way through the car. Ellie blindly reached for the door handle, whimpering in fear as she couldn’t open it. Y/n kicked it with her boot and it swung out, she shoved Ellie roughly out of the car. Y/n slid out, slamming the door behind them and feeling the slam of the Clicker throwing itself against the window.

Joel had lost visual on them briefly, but saw the swing of the car door and how it was still rocking. They’d trapped it.

Somewhere in the noise, a child’s cry could be heard. Y/n’s eyes darted around them, finally spotting Henry and Sam trying to fend off a group of Infected underneath a car.

“Help! Get the fuck away!“ Henry screamed, kicking at one of the creatures, “Get the fuck off me!”

Ellie looked first to Y/n, who was already pulling out her knife from where she hid it in her boot, before they both looked up to where Joel was. Y/n could barely make out his face with the distance.

Joel looked down, knowing that they couldn’t possibly be making eye contact from so far away, but knowing that they were on the same wavelength.

They had to work as a team.

“Go!” Y/n yelled, and they were off.

Joel shot with more precision than he ever had, this was the most he’d ever had at stake. As Y/n and Ellie moved through the crowd, he took out every Infected that were heading for them. He worked as a machine, but the terror he felt was the most human sensation he’d experienced in years.

Y/n shed her humanity, becoming more beast than woman, mercilessly ripping through the throats of any Infected that came near Ellie. She swung onto one’s back, stabbing her knife into its head, and let the collapse of its body land her back on the ground.

Joel and Y/n worked seamlessly together, ground and aerial coming together to protect the one thing that couldn’t be lost. Or in Joel’s case, two somethings.

Ellie and Y/n finally made it to Sam and Henry, there were two clickers still clawing at them. One dragged Henry out from underneath the car, Ellie got behind it and stabbed it. Y/n wrenched the Clicker attacking Sam backwards, staring into where its eyes would have been as she sliced through its heart.

A bullet whizzed past her head, landing in the monster’s skull. Joel needed to be sure.

“Come on, come on,” Ellie helped their friends to their feet, “Go! Go!”

Y/n shoved Ellie in front of her again and they fled the chaos, climbing into the lawn of the house Joel was in.

“Stop!”

The four of them turned to see Kathleen with her gun aimed at Henry, but her eyes flicking between him and Y/n. They didn’t have time to fear for their lives, they clocked the same Clicker who’d almost gotten her and Ellie creeping up an old piece of furniture behind Kathleen.

Kathleen heard the sound, turning around just as the Clicker shot through the air and latched onto her. They watched in terror as the creature claimed the resistance leader’s life.

Joel hurried out of the house, running faster once he saw Y/n and Ellie. He stopped a second, watching as Kathleen lost everything she’d fought so hard for, but didn’t care so long as his people were safe.

“This way now,” Joel yelled, grabbing Y/n’s arm to urge her forward, “Move!”

The group took off, leaving those who had sought to kill them to their fates. Joel and Y/n ran together, keeping one hand on each other the whole time. Their grudge was suffocating, choking under the weight of their undeniable devotion to one another.

————————————

The motel the group landed was a haven to their weary eyes. They broke into one of the rooms and tried to get it through their heads that they were safe. Joel had made sure that no one followed them, they were miles away from any Infected. They could breathe.

Once Ellie and Sam had been squared away with food, they went into the bedroom and began reading Ellie’s collection of comic books. They were either bouncing back spectacularly fast or burying their fear.

Henry, Joel and Y/n sat out in the main room, trying to come down from what they’d just been through. Since fleeing the hellish nightmare, Joel and Y/n hadn’t left each other’s side. She hadn’t even bothered with putting space between them when she sunk down onto the floor. They were pressed against one another and neither of them minded.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asked, picking at a bit of his food and watching his brother from the next room.

Y/n’s eyes drifted to Ellie, she was growing more and more worried about the girl’s psyche. She’d seen so much in such a short span of time.

“Yeah, I think,” Joel answered, “It’s easier when you’re a kid, anyway,” he met Henry’s stare with intention, “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.”

“Well,” Henry looked down at his food, “I guess we’re doin’ a good job then.”

Y/n and Joel both looked to the kids, Ellie was helping Sam to read one of the pages.

“What’s that comic book say?” Joel asked, “‘Endure and survive?’”

“Endure and survive,” Y/n repeated.

Henry chuckled, “That shit’s redundant.”

Joel shook his head, this was as close as he’d come to laughing with another person. “Yeah, it’s-it’s not great.”

Y/n gave a small smile, not quite to the point of being able to laugh about any part of the day.

Joel turned to look at her, drawing her gaze to him and focusing on the two quirked corners of her lips. It used to be his favorite game, making them rise until she’d complain her cheeks hurt. Tonight was the first night that he’d been able to make her smile again, and the little bit of his old self that was on life support took a breath.

Y/n let her eyes drift across Joel’s face, resting in the way he returned it. It was a dangerous fucking place to be, but after what they’d just gone through, she was too tired to fight her way out.

A loud laugh from Ellie snapped them out of whatever moment they were having.

“Look,” Joel turned to Henry, “I don’t know exactly how we’re gettin’ to Wyoming, we’re probably walkin’. But,” he stopped, still uncomfortable with the full spectrum of his emotions, “You know, if you want to.”

“Yeah,” Henry answered instantly, “Yeah. Um…yeah, I think it’d be nice for Sam to have a friend.”

“Oh, trust me,” Y/n smiled, looking on to Ellie, “You won’t find anyone friendlier than her,” she glanced at Joel, “Then again, we don’t set the bar very high, now do we?”

Henry laughed under his breath, even Joel couldn’t stop himself from smirking. “No, you don’t,” Henry replied, “I’ll tell him in the morning. New day, new start.”

“We’re not getting anywhere if we’re carrying them on our backs,” Y/n remarked, dusting the crumbs off her jeans and getting to her feet.

Henry got up with Y/n and heading into Sam and Ellie’s room. He knocked on the door and began to sign to Sam.

“Whatever he’s saying,” Y/n pointed to Ellie, “Same goes for you. Real adventure starts tomorrow.”

Ellie rolled her eyes lightly as Y/n approached, letting her take the comic out of her hand and place it on the nightstand. “Hey,” she said, “Is Joel’s brother like him? All grumpy and constipated?

“He is,” Y/n started, a flood of pleasant memories hitting her, “Way more fun. Not a stick to be found up his ass.”

Ellie snorted, Y/n knew she’d fall in love with Tommy in a minute. Everyone did.

Y/n ran a hand over Ellie’s head, they weren’t close enough for a hug but she wanted the girl to know that she had someone that cared about her. If Joel was her protecter, Y/n wanted to be her comfort. The oasis she could run to in the desert.

“Get some rest,” she ordered.

“Why?” Ellie cocked an eyebrow, “So you and Joel can have more time to cuddle?”

Y/n knew she’d be paying for her unconscious choices as long as Ellie was around to witness them. She lightly pushed her forehead, sending Ellie back on the bed in a fit of giggles.

“Will Livingston dies a slow and painful death if you ever bring that up again,” Y/n retorted, giving Ellie a pat on the leg after, “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Ellie called in a teasing tone.

Y/n stopped by Sam’s bed, tapping his hip to get his attention. She signed ‘endure and survive’ back to him, Sam nodded with a smile.

“Practicing,” Y/n beamed, earning herself a thumbs up, “Goodnight.”

She left the room before Henry, Joel hadn’t moved from their spot against the radiator. The door had been open the whole time.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “‘Stick up my ass?’”

Y/n leaned up against the wall and crossed her arms, almost relaxed. “I said what I said,” she smirked, “She called you constipated.”

Joel shook his head at her, fond memories of her and Tommy ganging up on him filing his head.

He wouldn’t tell her that he’d heard the whole conversation.

Henry exited the room, shutting the door behind him. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m exhausted,” he said, staking out the far right corner of the room for himself.

“Yeah,” Y/n sighed.

Joel rose up from the ground, already dreading trying to do another bed time shuffle with Y/n. He glanced over at her, first spotting the blood seeping through her bandages.

“Your hand,” he said, crossing the space between them.

“Huh?” Y/n furrowed her brows, holding it up to examine it, “Oh, shit. I didn’t even feel that.”

Joel was hesitant to grab it, but was itching to fix it up. “Adrenaline,” he settled for.

“So much for sleep,” Y/n grumbled, bending down and picking up her backpack.

Joel followed, setting the corner table back on its feet along with the two nearby chairs. Henry was already asleep in his corner. Joel sat down across from Y/n and watched as she pulled out the first aid kit. As she unpacked the supplies, his fingers began to twitch with nervous energy.

Y/n picked up on his fidgety state, stopping what she was doing to look at him. “Are you really that much of a control freak that you need to do this?”

Joel didn’t know what he was, just that he needed assurance that she was going to be alright. The only satisfactory way to do that was to do it himself.

“Fine,” Y/n scoffed, sliding the kit across the table to him, “Have at it.”

Joel unpacked the same supplies they’d used yesterday as Y/n unwrapped her hand. He was glad she’d taken extra gauze from his stash back in Massachusetts, they were running low.

“How long do you think it’ll take to get to Wyoming on foot?” Y/n asked as Joel grabbed an alcohol wipe. She’d already clotted, but the sites still needed to be cleaned.

He bristled, “A long fuckin’ while.”

“And are we measuring that in miles or kilometers?” Y/n asked, her tone deadpan.

Joel nearly smiled, gently rubbing the wipe over the bloody surface. Y/n hissed as it made contact with her skin, digging into her chair and drawing a deep breath after.

“Killed, like, four Clickers,” Joel decided to joke, never looking up from his ministrations, “Can’t handle a little wipe.”

“Says the man who can navigate his way across the country, but couldn’t explain a siphon to a fourteen year old,” Y/n remarked, matching his wit.

Joel peered up, a small smirk playing on his lips, mimicking the one on Y/n’s. This was the longest they’d gone without fighting during a conversation. One shift could turn the almost peaceful moment to a shipwreck.

“What happened out there tonight?” Joel asked, his mind still spinning from anxiety.

“Ran out of ammo,” Y/n answered, she know immediately what he was referring to, “Perfect timing, huh?”

Joel scoffed and ran a second alcohol wipe over her wounds. “Yeah,” he muttered, unsure of what else to say.

“But there was this weird guy hiding out in an abandoned house who took care of things,” Y/n remarked, her eyes traveling from her and Joel’s hands to his face.

Joel paused and met her stare, surprised that she was acknowledging his effort at all.

“Thank you,” Y/n continued.

Joel shook his head, returning to his work, “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Would you rather me say ‘Fuck off, you dick. I can take care of myself?’”

“That would fall in line with what you usually have to say,” Joel replied, reaching for the gauze pads.

Y/n nodded in reply, a smile pulling at her cheeks. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing, only that she was traumatized, tired, and in need of someone to talk to. If that someone came in the form of Joel, then so be it.

Joel tried to focus on Y/n’s wound, breaking it down into steps. Sterilize, gauze, wrap. He couldn’t get caught up on the fact that they were getting along. As benign as the it sounded, it was leaps and bounds ahead of where they’d come from.

Y/n, on the other hand, had nothing to do but sit and wait for him to be done. She watched how precisely he placed the gauze pads, as if one inch off their assigned spots would cost her her life. It reminded her of how precise he’d been with his lips, his hands. Every touch had carried purpose, the ultimate goal to make her know how much he loved her.

This touch, so warm and gentle, felt the same to Y/n.

Much like the day before, it took a lot of effort on Joel’s part not to get caught up in the feel of Y/n’s hand against his. He wrapped a fresh strip of bandage around it, weaving the roll between her thumb and under her palm. Back at the house, watching her narrowly avoid Infected had choked him. Every five seconds, she’d been brought to the edge of death, only for one of them to strike back at the very last moment. It had drained any and all energy left in Joel’s body, and had brought on a whole new set of questions.

If he were to lose her or Ellie at this point, what would it do to him?

He anchored the bandage down, sealing Y/n’s wound, and tried to escape the scenarios his mind was creating. They were alive, they were safe, and they would make it to Wyoming. If that was what he needed to keep repeating to himself the whole way west, he would.

“At the risk of inflating your ego,” Y/n examined his work, “Well done.”

Joel didn’t respond, he simply handed her the supplies to pack up. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, or rather, what he wanted and what he knew he couldn’t have.

Y/n threw the kit back in her backpack and came back to where they’d been. Joel was already kneeling down on the ground, removing and balling up his jacket. She didn’t want to land herself in another situation where cuddling up to Joel was a possibility, she also didn’t want to infringe on Henry’s personal space.

“You mind keepin’ an ear peeled?,” Joel asked, it was like he could read her mind, “In case I roll over on the wrong side again.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, coming to sit beside Joel with just enough space between them. Close enough to protect, far enough away for clear minds.

Joel stretched out one arm just above Y/n’s head. It wasn’t the closest they’d been in the past day, but it was certainly the most intimate. Y/n was facing him, the top of her hair nearly grazing his forearm. Every signal in his brain told him to roll over, put another wall between them, but there was a stronger thought that cancelled the noise.

He simply didn’t want to.

Y/n adjusted herself on her jacket and was left with nothing left to do but stare at Joel. The lines on his face were deeper, his features had grown sharper, yet somewhere underneath it all…she could still see the man she’d fallen in love with in the heat of an Austin summer. Perhaps that was what was playing with her mind the most; how she got glimpses of Joel as he was before morphing into the new version. She used to wonder what age would do to them and she knew that if Cordyceps had never mutated, Joel’s frown lines would be smiles lines. The skin underneath his eyes would wrinkle from deep laughter. And in the times where his brow would crease with concern, a single kiss from her would have relaxed the muscles.

It was enough to bring her to tears.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asked, his voice gruff but his words filled with concern.

It was all wrong. All of it. Everything that had happened to them. Everything the world had become. Risking their lives every day for a future that wasn’t guaranteed.

It was all so horribly wrong.

“I’m just tired,” Y/n spoke past the lump in her throat, “Really fucking tired.”

Joel wanted to reach out, place a finger underneath her lashes to catch her tears before they fell. In another life, he’d have taken her in his arms and grazed his lips across her ear. He’d have called her Rosebud and told her to sleep, that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her.

But he’d lost the right to act on such feelings a lifetime ago.

“Get some sleep,” he replied, it was the only part of the urge he could listen to.

Y/n shook her head, smiling with sadness, “It’s not that kind of tired.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Joel understood those six words better than any other. His exhaustion went so far past his backaches or cracking knees. His soul was seeking rest that it would never find.

It wasn’t lost on either of them that it took nearly dying for them to start drifting back to one another. The hate faded into background noise, or ceased to exist at all. They picked up their anger when they were safe, because it took effort. It took effort to stay mad, a fire requiring constant attention. But protecting one another was natural. At the end of the day, all that had transpired between Joel and Y/n would never come in the way of saving one another. Hate was a choice, care was an instinct.

Joel’s soft gaze traveled across Y/n’s face. “Try,” he encouraged, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded, her eyes still resting on Joel. She knew if she stared at him a minute longer, she’d no longer be able to choose hate.

Though she’d never know it, Joel felt the exact same way. He was becoming weaker and weaker for her with each moment they spent together.

They didn’t bid each other goodnight, they didn’t even fall asleep at the same time, despite sharing the same exhaustion. Joel stayed awake a few extra minutes after Y/n drifted off. He watched her frown relax, her brows unclench and her chest rise and fall, keeping the same steady beat that used to lull him to sleep.

—————————

Y/n had scooted closer in her sleep, her and Joel’s bodies still not touching but their breaths mingling together.

Had they awoken with the sunlight peeking through the blinds, strips of the warm glow across their eyes, urging them awake, they wouldn’t have backed away. It would have been the first time in twenty years they’d have woken up to one another. They wouldn’t have been mad.

Instead, they startled awake to the sounds of screams.

Joel and Y/n sat up in time to see Ellie fall out of the door, a snarling Sam jumping on her and pinning her down. Henry woke not two seconds after them, barely able to register the sight.

Sam was infected.

Joel was the first to reach for his handgun, but Henry was quicker and yanked it away. He had it aimed at Y/n and Joel before they were even on their feet.

“Nope, nope, nope,” he warned.

“Joel!” Ellie’s heartbreaking scream filled the room, “Y/n!”

Joel and Y/n took one step in Ellie’s direction and Henry fired a shot at their feet. Joel shoved Y/n behind him, she clung to his arm.

“Joel!” Ellie shrieked again, begging for help from either adult, “Y/n!”

Before they could have a coherent thought, it was all over.

Henry turned his gun on Sam.

He fired a single bullet.

Sam collapsed to the floor.

Ellie sat up with tears in her eyes.

Joel lowered his hands, but Y/n still kept a firm grip on him.

“Ellie,” he breathed, his heart was racing, “Are you okay?”

The girl looked to her guardians, shocked and heartbroken.

They took a cautious step towards her, but Henry put a stop to it as he trained his pistol back on them. Joel threw his arm back out in front of Y/n, not knowing what the man might do.

Distraught seemed too small a word to describe the expression on Henry’s face. He was gutted.

Joel ensured Y/n was still fastened to him before he cautiously held out his hands to Henry, “Easy, easy, easy,” his voice was barely audible, “Henry, gimme the gun. Henry, gimme the gun.”

“What did I do?” Henry choked out.

Joel shushed him, as one would a wild animal on the verge of attacking.

“What did I do?” Henry asked again, “What-what-what did I do?”

“Henry,” Y/n nearly whimpered, her breath trembling as she did, “Henry, stop, please.”

Henry stared through his tears at his little brother’s body, blood spreading across the floor, “Sam?”

Joel urged with a new desperation as the realization deepened, “Henry, gimme the gun.”

“Henry, please,” Y/n let go of Joel, taking a calculated step forward, “I know. I know.”

“Gimme the gun, Henry,” Joel continued.

Henry’s eyes, still focused on his brother, glazed over as he raised the gun to his temple.

“HENRY, NO!” Joel cried out.

Y/n rushed past Joel, “HENRY, I KN-“

It was too late.

As it happened, Joel jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Y/n and pulling her into him.

“No!” Y/n screamed, she lurched forward as if she could still save him.

Y/n’s eyes were flooded with tears, her sobs tearing her apart so hard that they came out silent. When the noise finally came, it was a guttural cry that might come from a wounded animal. Y/n’s knees gave out on her, Joel caught her and helped lower her to the ground. He kept his arms tight around her as she wailed.

When Y/n came to, and she realized Joel was holding her, the rage reignited. “Get off me,” she yelled, clawing her way out of his embrace.

Joel let her go, shrinking back slightly at the sudden reaction. Ellie watched, consumed by terror as her rock crumbled under the weight of the trauma.

Y/n crawled towards Henry, avoiding the blood, and clung to his shirt. She wept into his still warm body, wishing that he’d have let her finish her sentence. It could have changed everything.

The three of them sat there, waiting for their grief to come to a managable level.

“We gotta go,” Joel said eventually, the words feeling heavy in his mouth.

“We can’t leave them here,” Ellie muttered, wiping her sleeve across her eyes.

Y/n was sitting beside Henry’s body by then, waiting for him to breathe air that would never reach his lungs.

“Gimme a minute,” Joel said, getting to his feet and moving mechanically out the motel room door.

Time moved slow and all at once to the three of them. Joel went into the maintenance closet and found two shovels, bringing them back to the room where nothing and no one had moved. Him and Y/n, trying to spare Ellie what little trauma they could, carried Sam and Henry’s bodies across the road and to a patch of grass. The two of them began to shovel shallow graves, burying their friends.

The job was nearly done, they were just patting the soil back down when Ellie returned. She’d retrieved the few posessions they still had, dropping Y/n and Joel’s coats and Y/n and Henry’s backpack at their feet. She came to kneel at Sam’s grave, taking it in before setting his magnetic pad atop the dirt.

Standing back up with a weight no child deserved to carry, she turned to Joel, “Which way’s west?”

Joel looked off to his left and nodded, Ellie set off in the direction.

Y/n could feel herself slipping into a heavy numbness, a grief filling her that few could understand. She felt like she had one nostril, barely taking in oxygen, above the waters that slammed into her. But as soon as she saw Ellie’s handwriting, the words ‘I’m sorry’ written across the magnetic pad, she lost the fight.

She understood Henry’s fight.

She understood his decision.

And she understood his guilt.

She dropped her shovel where it was, picked up her jacket and slung her backpack over her shoulder, following Ellie and leaving Joel by himself. He was the last person she could stand to look at right now.

Joel watched her leave, any softness that had existed between the two of them a few hours ago had disappeared.

He leaned against his shovel, staring down at the dirt and Ellie’s makeshift headstone. Having done what they’d just done, having known Henry and Sam, watching them interact….it gave Joel the answer to the question he’d pondered the night before.

If anything happened to Y/n or Ellie, he wouldn’t know how to carry on.

And that was the most terrifying feeling he could have had, because he’d had it before.

Ellie had snarked, sassed and snuck her way into his heart. Y/n had always been there, his affection never fading over time despite her perceived betrayal. But he’d buried her, another name in the long list of people he’d lost over twenty years. To have her come crashing back into his life had been unexpected and unwanted. He couldn’t stop himself from letting her consume his mind, just as she had the first time.

Now here he was, a child and the woman he’d loved relying on him, killing for him, and he wanted to run.

“Let’s go,” Ellie called out, she was even beginning to sound like him.

Joel startled, looking on to see Ellie and Y/n waiting for him. Y/n refused to look at him. They were right back to where they’d begun their journey. Perhaps even further, she’d met his gaze even after the ambush that had brought them back together. Something had shifted in her that Joel couldn’t figure out, nor did he think it was best to look too deep.

He put on Henry’s backpack, feeling the weight of it, and slipped his jacket through the strap. He gave a parting glance to the brother’s graves and headed off to join the women.

Despite their failure to keep their pasts hidden, the three of them had scars the others didn’t know about. Intricate pieces of them that had made them who they were in the Cordyceps dominated world. But past the secrets, there was a loyalty too real to deny. They were too deep in to quit on each other. Trudging westward, with grief still fresh and fragile in their palms, they were all each other had.

If one of them died, they all would.

———————

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dancingtotuyo · 1 month

Text

11. up from the dust, inconceivable love

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Ellie learns the truth. Your family gains a member.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, self worth issues, canon violence, anger, child birth, spoilers for TLOU 2 (we’re entering the timeline that starts to burrow things for part 2 of the game)

Notes: huge thank you to my constants, my rocks @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and scream and break their hearts.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!

Words: 5352

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

“What do you think of Peace?” You ask, propped up in bed, hand over your swollen stomach. You’ve gained more weight this time, probably because you’re not in the throes of grief.

“I mean, I’m a fan. I hope everyone is.” Joel says, trimming his facial hair with the bathroom door wide open.

You bite your lip, admiring the expanse of his bare back. If getting out of bed wasn’t an event, you would be behind him right now, kissing his shoulders.

“No, as a name for a girl,” you say. Joel turns around looking at you like he’s contemplating checking you into a psychiatric ward if those still existed. “A middle name, not a first name.”

Joel sets his trimmers down, leaning in the doorway shirtless. “And what would her first name be?”

“Willow.”

Joel furrows his brow stepping into your bedroom, your shared bedroom. “Darlin, I know we live in a commune, but we’re not hippies.”

“You bring me wildflowers and we walk barefoot through the fields. I wouldn’t be so sure.” You can’t help but laugh. Joel cracks a smile. “Do you have suggestions then?”

“Thought about naming Sarah- Katherine.”

You make a face. You know one too many Kates and Katies even in Jackson.

“It’s not a bad name,” Joel chuckles.

“Neither is Willow.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a hippie?”

“Would you leave if I said yes?”

Joel shrugs “I don’t know, but I knocked you up so I guess I have to stay.” He crawls into the bed. His head is level with your stomach as he watches for movement.

You roll your eyes. “How romantic.”

He grins up at you and then his eyes are back on your belly. He rests a hand at the top, staring, waiting in wonderment. Neither of you can believe this is all real. Your baby moves around all the time, kicking your bladder and lungs, signifying life. A life you did not think would make it.

You thread your fingers through Joel’s soft brown hair. The outline of a foot appears and then disappears. Joel’s eyes sparkle and he kisses the same spot. He’s soft and gentle. In these moments, all your anxieties are carried away like leaves on an autumn breeze. This is your peace.

“What other names did you have picked out for Carter?”

You bite your lip. “We didn’t have any other boys' names.”

“And if he’d been a girl?” He’s still enthralled with your stomach as if there’s been an enchantment cast over it.

“Sarah.”

His head snaps up.

“Tommy and I talked about her a lot when I was pregnant. She was on my mind… being a part of Sarah’s life made me realize I wanted a family… even in this world where I had no right to do so.”

You keep playing with his hair. His eyes go glassy making you wonder what memory is playing behind his eyes. You stay like that until Joel is ready to talk. Eventually, he sits up, clearing his throat. His lips touch yours.

“What about Willa?”

You tilt your head to the side. You don’t really see how it’s any different than Willow, but you’re not going to bring that up. “I like it.”

“And Miles for a boy.” His smile returns. He doesn’t tell you that he’s positive you’re having a girl.

“Miles is an old man's name!”

“Good, then he’ll grow to be an old man.”

You take in a sharp breath. It’s just an offhand comment, but it carries so much weight. It’s a stark reminder of the heaviness of the world, and the twinge of guilt you feel bringing another child into it.

Joel takes your hand, kissing your palm. You see it in his eyes too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve-”

“It’s okay.” Your fingers comb through his hair. He leans into your touch. His grays are more noticeable than they were a year ago, but the brown still outnumbers them.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks.

“I don’t know… I- I haven’t really let myself think about it until today.” It's true. The fact of the matter is you’re within a month of your due date. You and Joel are so close to welcoming this baby into the world and are wildly unprepared.

“We’re getting close… We need a crib.”

“The one I used for Carter is in the attic.”

“I can bring it down in the morning.”

“I need to get some baby clothes. I traded all of Carter’s.”

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do, Mama,” Joel smiles, kissing your forehead. He still hasn't told you about the swaddles and onesies tucked in the back of his drawer, but it seems you’re finally ready for them.

You cock your head to the side, contemplating the nickname. There’s a mix of emotions with it. You’re already a mother. Joel is a father, but this is a life you’re bringing in together. It’s uncharted territory for both of you. Sarah’s mom was out the door before she was six months old. Neither of you have done this part with a partner before.

A sharp knock on the front door pulls your mind from its wandering. Joel’s brow furrows, rolling out of the bed. People don’t knock on your door often. They usually barrel right in, unless it’s bad. Your stomach drops.

Joel is out of the bedroom, shrugging on a shirt. Dina’s voice calls through your home. “Hello?” She sounds worried, desperate.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed. It takes more time to stand these days. If you try too quickly, your head rushes making you feel dizzy.

“Dina? What’s wrong?” Joel’s at the bottom of the stairs now, but his voice carries. You have to stop at the top of the stairs to catch your breath.

“Ellie is gone.”

You freeze, grabbing the railing for stability. “What?”

Joel turns around, worry etched in his face. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. She mentioned something about the Fireflies and a hospital, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” You make out the flicker of hurt in Dina’s face. Those two tell each other everything, or most things. You’re not sure Ellie has told her about her immunity. You all keep that one pretty close to your chests.

“Shit,” Joel mumbles. He glances between you at his back and the front door in front of him. You see the push and pull. He needs to go after her. He needs to be here for you.

His eyes settle on you. Your hand settles on top of your swollen belly. He’s looking for permission. You want to give it, but what if he’s needed here before he gets back.

“She’s been off lately. I don’t know why. She won’t talk to me.” Dina seems to sense the silent conversation going on. “I can go after her, but-“

“No, I need to go.” Joel swings back toward the teenager, both hands placed on his hips. You try to bite back the panic rising inside you. He’ll be fine. They’ll both be fine. “Do you know when she left?”

“Probably sometime before the sun came up. Shimmer isn’t in the stable.”

Joel lets out a ragged sigh, hands running over his face. You try to keep the tears away, your hormones making it difficult.

“Will you let Maria know I’m going after her? I need to pack.”

Dina nods, her eyes flickering up to you before she’s gone in a flash of dark curls. Joel turns around, hand resting on the banister at the bottom of the stairs. You swallow and walk back into the bedroom.

It’s silent at first, nothing but the sounds of draws opening and closing and the soft slaps of his leather saddle bags. You sit in silence at the edge of your bed, chewing on your lip as you watch him. Ellie needs him. It echoes on repeat in your brain.

“I can probably catch her. We’ll be back in two weeks if I don’t.”

You stare down at your ever growing belly. You could easily be pregnant when he returns, but what if you’re not? You’re fairly certain you’ll have this baby sooner rather than later, but Ellie needs him too.

“Why does she want to go back to Salt Lake?”

Joel freezes for a second, like he’s contemplating his answer. It sets an uneasy feeling in your bones. “I don’t know. Maybe she thinks some of the Fireflies are still there? That this whole cure business is still an option?”

You nod, thoughts drifting to her face when you looked at her blood a couple months ago. She looked desperate. You hadn’t seen her like that before. It was almost unnerving, like the need to be needed by humanity had returned tenfold. It made you wonder if you’d been there for her enough these past few months.

“I have to go after her.”

There’s a desperation you don’t quite recognize in Joel’s eyes, sending a thread of dread through your body. Is he leaving something out? Not telling you something? You nod, biting your lip. “I know.”

He lays his hand on your bump, fingers stretching out over it. “We’ve got time.”

You nod. “Hurry back, and be safe, okay?”

Joel kisses your forehead. “Always.”

He rides out thirty minutes later.

You try to stay busy while they’re gone, cleaning the clinic and the house thrice over as the nesting and anxiety sets in. You ask Tommy to get the crib out of the attic as you prep the corner of your bedroom for the baby, wiping it free from the dust and cobwebs.

Maria hosts a small get together for you pulling together some semblance of a baby shower, something you hadn’t had with Carter. It's nice, but you feel like they skirt around the questions nagging in their brains. Where did Ellie and Joel go? Will they be back in time? You don’t have answers. You have the same fucking question. Will they be back?

The braxton hicks kick up, so much so you think you’re in labor ten days after Joel rides out. The fear that courses through your body is so paralyzing that you just lay in bed. Your body tenses with the memory’s of Carter’s labor. It’s not the physical pain of it, but the emotional rollercoaster you went through, alone. You’re not supposed to do this alone this time.

Then, the contractions stop with no explanation and you fall into a restless sleep. You miss Joel, his warmth and comfort. His unspoken love that fills the room. You’re becoming more comfortable with the idea of it.

You miss Ellie too, worried about what she’s going through. Providing it’s still vacant, Salt Lake won’t hold any answer for her. What lengths will she go to? How many miles will she travel in search of answers you believe don’t exist? How will she handle reality?

You see the differences in Carter too. In his mind, Ellie and Joel have always been here. Two weeks without them feels like a lifetime to him, and to you.

On day twelve, your front door flies open as you come down the stairs. Ellie bursts through looking frantic and frazzled. Her short cropped hair sticks up in certain places. Dirt smudges her forehead. You’re too relieved to see her to worry about her appearance. If anything, it’s expected after two weeks of travel, but your relief is short lived.

“Did you know?” She yells. The door stays wide open behind her, rage flaming in her eyes.

“What?”

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” You step toward her, reaching out, but she backs away like a wild animal.

“He killed them! All of them!”

“Killed who? Ellie, take a deep breath.”

“Joel! He killed the fireflies! They had a cure!”

Your breath catches. It’s not that Joel has killed people. You know about the years he spent as a raider. You know the cost of surviving in this world, but this isn’t the story you have been told about Salt Lake. When you asked him why she would go back, he lied. He knew. Knew the story hadn’t lined up in Ellie’s mind.

“So he lied to you too!”

“Ellie!” Joel is stern as his frame fills your doorway.

She spins around, the week of silence she spent next to him on the road back, wrath bubbling over and focused on him. “Tell her! Tell her, Joel!” She steps toward him. “Tell her what you did!” She shoves against his shoulders.

“Ellie…” He repeats her name, softer this time.

“Don’t do that!” She turns back to you, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They were going to make a cure from me, and you stopped them! You slaughtered them!”

“They were going to kill you!”

Your eyes widen, and it makes sense. Why Joel hasn’t talked about it. Why he needed to go after her. Why Ellie feels so useless. She’d been promised the cure. He’d taken that from her with a facade of an excuse.

“You should have let them!” Ellie screams until she pushes past him, rushing out of your house.

Joel lets out a sigh, defeat evident across his features. You can’t even enjoy their homecoming, their safety, your head spinning too much.

Joel shuts the door behind him, stepping closer like he’s expecting an embrace, but you step back, a mother’s anger building in your bones. He looks surprised. “Sweetheart…”

“You lied to her.”

“I protected her.” Joel’s eyes narrow. He’s tired and irritable. Neither of you expected a fight to ensue the moment he got home. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You’ve watched her struggle with this for years!”

“They were going to kill her!”

“Have you listened to anything she’s said?”

You almost don’t recognize the Joel in front of you. He looks like a shell of the assured, warm man you know. You wonder if this is the version of Joel Tommy used to speak of. The one Joel has told you about during those late night chats when you spilled the depths of yourselves to each other, or you thought you had. The one who floated through his days, barely living.

“I couldn’t lose her!”

“Except you did!”

Joel straightens, shoulders setting in denial. “She’s alive! That’s what matters.”

“You’re missing the point!”

“You’re saying I should have let them go ahead with it! Let them cut open her head for a cure you don’t believe is possible!”

Fire blazes in Joel's eyes. You see it. There’s no rationalizing with him about this. In his eyes, there were no choices to be made. He did the only thing. It doesn’t matter what else he has to sacrifice, she’s alive and that’s all that matters. “That’s not-”

He scoffs, cutting you off. You see the pain and hurt ripple through his body, causing him to step back from you. “Sure sounds like it.”

“Joel!”

“Don’t.” He yanks the front door open. “I can’t be here right now.”

He disappears across the threshold in the blink of an eye leaving you with a mountain to process and a growing tension across your stomach.

Joel knows he’s in the wrong. He knows he shouldn’t have lied to Ellie, held the truth from you. He’s a grown man, of course he knows what’s right and wrong, but that admittance doesn’t do anything to calm him. He needs to get out. Out of the house. Out of the walls into the open. It doesn’t matter that he just came from two weeks out there.

He sneaks over the wall with more ease than he should be able. Instantly, he feels the tightening in his chest begin to ease. He paces the outside of the wall like a caged animal, the series of events reeling through his mind. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been pushing it back since they left Salt Lake. Her words, her pleas, over and over. She’d given him every opportunity to tell her the truth and he kept the lie going.

There was no cure. The words he’d utter to her after they found that couple, one dead the other infected while out on patrol.

He’d almost told her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t risk it.

His pacing becomes more frantic as he remembers the fear he felt at the thought of losing Ellie, the fear that pushed him into wiping away every firefly that crossed his path. The same fear that put lies in his mouth before he had time to think, that kept him from telling her the truth. He knew this would happen one day, but hadn’t been enough. He’d kept it from everyone, including you.

Tell me, she had pleaded with him, begged him and he still felt the pull to replace his lie with another.

She’d had to poke and prod to get the words from his mouth. Had to threaten to leave before she got the truth. That hurt almost as much as the fallout. Everyone thought he was a better man than he actually was. Ellie, you, himself, but when it came down to it. He failed that test. Good men don’t make someone threaten to leave to get the truth.

I’ll go back, but we’re done.

Joel wears a path in the fresh grass beneath his feet, letting the spring chill take over when the sun sets, leaving him in darkness. Ellie had kept her word. He’d never heard her stay quiet for so long. The loss had begun to settle in with her riding next to him.

Joel’s muscles ache from two weeks out on the road. He misses you and Carter. He hasn’t even touched you yet. Will you let him?

Getting over the wall from the outside proves more difficult than it had the first time. Which is a good thing, but had Joel feeling every one of his 59 years. Embarrassment creeps over his cheeks with each step toward your home. The one he shares with you, but he feels like a guest as he climbs the steps. He doesn’t catch a glimpse of you or Carter or anyone else through the windows.

The house is silent when he enters, no signs of life except for the faint buzzing of light bulbs. His brow furrows. You wouldn’t have left the lights on if you weren’t home. Then a faint sound comes from upstairs, movement at the very least. He follows it, placing his hand on the closed bedroom door before cracking it open.

Soft groans come from behind the cracked bathroom door followed by a whispered curse. Maria's voice follows. Joel’s throat drops into his stomach. His boots echo off the wood floor as he crosses the room. “Sweetheart?” he calls, staying on his side of the door. “Is everything alright?”

“Joel? Get in here,” you groan out.

It sends some reassurance through him to hear you so clearly before he swings the door open. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in the tub, sweat staining your skin as Maria kneels next to you. “Shit, are you?”

“Make yourself useful and hold my hand.”

He nods, kneeling beside you. Maria stands, grabbing a few instruments from the bathroom sink, she gives Joel a look that lets him know you’re near the end of labor. Your baby will be here in minutes. It sends a rush through him. “I’m sorry, Darlin.”

You grab onto his hand tightly. It’s wet from the bathwater sloshing around you as you fight to get comfortable. It’s a useless pursuit, but it doesn’t keep you from trying. “Can we do the apologizing later? I’m kinda busy at the moment.”

“Yes,” Joel takes a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears. He squares his shoulders next to you, giving an air of assurance you know he doesn’t have. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I think you missed most of it.”

“Not that you’ve had much to miss,” Maria says, stern. She pissed at him, which is more than fair given everything. You’d had some time to explain what happened. “We tried to find you. Her labor progressed pretty quick.”

“Speaking of which-” You let out a gasp, face twisting in pain. “I think the baby is crowning.”

“She must be in a hurry,” Joel says.

“She?”

“Just a hunch.” Joel smiles, kissing your head.

For the next few minutes, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Your fight never happened because there’s only one thing on your minds, bringing your baby into the world. The world goes silent again, but not in a bad way. A way that makes you feel at peace, Joel’s warm hand in yours. It doesn’t take long until she announces her arrival with a fiery scream once Maria pulls her out of the water.

You hold her close, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. Joel leans in, his forehead pressed to your temple, arms wrapping around you and your daughter as she pulls air into her lungs.

“You did great, Sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses your cheek, cupping your daughter’s head. “She’s beautiful.”

Your eyes flicker between him and your newborn. It’s the moment you’ve been envisioning for months, the one you thought you’d get with Gabe when Carter was born. A little piece of you mends. Your child soothes against your skin.

After you’re both cleaned up, Joel helps you into bed, then settles beside you. She sleeps in your arms, tiny fist clenched around one of Joel’s fingers still curled up in your softest bath towel. You brush her cheek softly.

“I believe we decided on Willa Peace?”

“Did we?” You tilt your head to the side, a grin verging on your lips. “I thought we weren’t hippies.”

Joel shrugs, tracing your shoulders. “I had a lot of time to think about it the past couple of weeks.”

“Joel…”

Dirt still traces over his face. He hasn’t had time to clean off since he got back. You catch the faint smell of sweat on his clothes and skin. “I know.”

“I would have done the same thing to save her. You know what I think about cures.” You keep your gaze on your child. It only reminds you what you brought her into. “You lied to her over and over when she needed the truth.”

“I was trying to protect her.”

“I wish you would’ve told me.”

“I know.”

“This only works if we’re open with each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” You bite your lip. “I’m going to need some time with this one.”

Joel nods, arm wrapping around you. “I know.”

You lean into him, enjoying the quietness that surrounds the three of you.

“Willa Peace Miller,” You smile. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah.” Joel hums beside you. “Can’t believe she’s actually here.”

“And we’re both okay.”

He nods, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from the precious little being in your arms. You hang on every rise and fall of her chest, everything micro movements, the soft flutter of her eyes that never quite open. It all feels so fragile, so sacred.

You remember similar moments with Carter. When the grief and the world got too loud, you would lay on the floor or bed with him on your chest asleep. The weight of his small body was a tether that kept you from flying away.

Even in this moment, as your heart inexplicitly expands, you feel that thread of fear winding itself through your body. Another person to love and protect. Another person to keep from the jaws of the world. Another person you can’t bear to lose.

“You know,” you say, pulling Joel’s attention. “If you were ever gonna pull those baby clothes and blankets out of your drawer, now would be the time.”

His brow furrows and then eases with realization. “How long have you known they were there?”

You let out a soft chuckle. “I washed them the next time you went out on patrol. I wasn’t going to leave those filthy things in your drawer.”

“You were going through my things, I see.”

“Next time don’t try to hide something in your drawer from the person who washes your clothes.”

Joel laughs, easing out of the bed to fetch the items from the drawer. “Got it, I’ll be sneakier next time.”

“Can you get the onesie with the yellow flowers?” You bite back a smile. He doesn’t know how you often pulled the drawer open and just gazed upon the items. It helped you visualize it all even when the fear threatened to take over. Another child, and here she was. You’d been most drawn to the little yellow flowers.

Joel laughs, grabbing the onsie and the swaddle with little yellow flowers to match. You’re gentle with her as you work the small article of clothing over her tiny body. It’s a bit baggy, but you can’t complain. It just means she can wear it for longer. She sleeps through all the jostling as if she’s fully absorbed her middle name.

She’s settled back into your arms when a soft tap echoes on your door. “Mommy?” Carter’s voice comes through muffled.

“You can come in.”

The door flies open as your son bursts through the door, grin spread wide on his face. Ellie stands behind him, looking like the space might envelope her.

“Aunt Maria said I have a baby sister.”

“You want to meet her?” you ask.

Carter nods eagerly, dashing toward your bed. Joel catches him before he can jump onto the bed beside you and potentially on you.

“Daddy!” Carter’s eyes go wide. He hasn’t seen Joel in almost two weeks.

Joel laughs, arms tightening around the boy. “Hey, bud.”

Your eyes meet Ellie’s. Her eyes are red, bags deep underneath. You motion her next to you. She hesitates before sliding onto the bed beside you. She’s timid, keeping to the edge, eyes flicking over you and Willa.

“You can get closer.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I never got to hug you earlier.”

She looks down, eyes scanning over your comforter like she’s reliving her homecoming. Once she’s close enough, your arm slips around her shoulders, tugging her close. She nuzzles into your side like a child seeking comfort. “You’re alright?” she asks.

“Yeah… we both are.” You say, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“But I’m still sorry you’re going through this.”

Ellie seems to sink into your further, eyes pinned to Willa. She doesn’t answer you. She doesn’t look at Joel as he sinks next to you with Carter, but you feel her tense when he does.

“What’s her name?” Ellie asks.

“Willa,” you reply.

“Baby Willa.” Carter grins proudly.

And the five of you sit there together in silence. You try to push it out of your head that it’s the last time you all might be together for a while. Even now, you feel the underlying anger rolling through Ellie’s body. This is a wound that’s been festering. It’s going to take time to heal.

Eventually, Ellie slips from your side without a word to leave. She’s barely out the door when Joel goes after her.

“Ellie,” Joel says, catching her on the front porch.

Her head whips around, expression set in stone. “I’m here for them, not you.” She keeps her voice low to not be overheard by nosy neighbors. “They’re my family. Do you understand?”

Joel’s apology catches in his throat. He’s been apologizing the whole way back from Salt Lake. He knows there’s nothing he can say to rush this process. He made a decision, and these are his consequences. “Yeah… I got it.”

“Good.”

She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.

The bed is empty next to you, the sheets cool to the touch. Your eyes blink open. Cool moonlight shines through the window. You glance at the bathroom door. No light shines through the crease. Joel’s name is on your lips, interrupted by his voice.

“Do you like the butterflies?”

You turn to your side. Joel sits next to the crib, talking to Willa. She’s awake, moonlight reflecting off her big eyes. She’s content and still.

“Your big sister liked butterflies. When they come out in the summertime, I feel her around me.”

She stares at Joel, mesmerized by his voice. Your eyes float upward to the mobile Joel made. He hadn’t explained it to you, but you already knew. Sarah had pinned them all throughout their Austin home. You keep one stuck to the window above the kitchen sink. There’s one tucked in his nightstand drawer.

“I think she sent you to me.” He lets it sit there, contemplating the weight and depth of what he said. “I think she sent you to me, your momma, Ellie, I suppose she’s your big sister too, Carter. All of you.

“Her name was Sarah. She would have loved you.” He chuckles. “She used to ask me for a baby brother or sister. I didn’t know your momma yet… Well, I guess I did, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”

You stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Joel’s eyes lock on yours. He smiles, shooting you a wink. He looks younger under the moonlight, more at ease. The creases in his skin are less apparent.

“Your momma, she’s quite a bit younger than me.” The smile stays pinned to his face. “It’s not so creepy now- least that’s what she tells me- but it would’ve been then, and I was a decent fella back before the world went to shit. Besides, between you and me.” He leans closer to Willa’s ear, but his eyes are still on you. “Your momma had a pretty big crush on me back then.”

You groan, heat flushing your cheeks. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is. You chuck his pillow at him. Joel catches it, laughing. It’s the kind that sits deep in one’s chest and bubbles up with the purest kind of joy. You can’t help but smile.

He slowly stands, grunting as he does. You hear the familiar pop of his joints. He leans into the crib. You notice Willa’s eyes have fallen shut. “I love you, my little wildflower.” He kisses her cheek before falling back into bed next to you.

His arm wraps around your waist. Pulling you close, he steals a kiss on your forehead. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.”

“You’re getting too old to have a newborn, yet here we are.” Your fingers run through his hair.

“Still can’t believe she’s here… you’re both healthy.”

“Neither can I.” You glance back at the crib. She’s just a few days old and already, you can’t imagine life without her.

Tears well at the corner of your eyes. Your heart has grown so much. You thought you couldn’t open it to more people, yet here you are. The you of 4 years ago would be too terrified of losing this life to give it a chance, the price of pain too high. Yet here you are, embracing it, taking that risk, because this is living, and the love and belonging far outweigh the potential for pain even as it grows with every passing day. You fell into the trap,and it’s a crowded one, but it’s a happy one.

Joel kisses your cheek. “You should get some sleep before she wakes up hungry.”

“Mmm,” you hum as his hands move soothingly over your back. “Someone not named Willa woke me up.”

Joel chuckles. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

But even now you feel your eyelids getting heavier.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

You let your eyes fall shut as Joel massages out a knot in your back. You lean into it. “About Sarah sending us to you.”

“I did.” He kisses your forehead.

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wheresarizona · 1 year

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September Part 4

Jackson House of Worship, 2024

summary: Joel Miller didn’t get a chance to marry you twenty years ago, and now that you’re back together, he’s not wasting any more time—especially after you both bared your souls the night before, revealing your darkest secrets to make your bond unbreakable.

rating: Explicit (18+! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (10 years), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, dirty talk, praise kink (Joel gets called a good boy), spit mention, spanking, Joel should’ve stuck to missionary, flashback to the first meeting, handwavey medical jargon, mention of period typical sexism, emotions, tons of banter, LOTS of fluff, wedding, Ellie taking her best man duties seriously, Ellie’s handkersleeves, sweet Joel & Ellie father-daughter moments, Tommy being a little shit, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, dancing with Joel, Joel playing guitar, angst with a happy ending, confessions, emotional hurt/comfort, talk of pregnancy loss (stillbirth), talk of child loss, grief/mourning, talk of suicide attempt (Joel), TLOU tv/game spoilers)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader (reader is a doctor with no physical descriptions)

word count: 24.8k+ (This is who I am.)

a/n: I apologize for the delay in getting this done—March was not great for me. A lot of people wanted Joel to find out about the baby, and oh boy, does he. This chapter is emotional; you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll feel all warm and fuzzy, you’ll swoon, and you’ll have a good time. Shoutout to the love of my life, @juletheghoul, for being by my side through this whole thing. This is unbeta'd all mistakes are my own.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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July 2002 - Austin, Texas

The clinic wasn’t your first pick for where you wanted to do your residency to become a doctor; it wasn’t even your fifteenth choice. You applied to fifty programs across the entire country, hoping for a bustling hospital in a big city or a large clinic somewhere you could have the opportunity to explore different specialties—pediatrics calling to you, but also interested in internal medicine and surgery. And yet, out of fifty applications, the place that accepted you was a family medicine clinic in Austin, Texas.

But what had you expected? You weren’t a prime candidate due to being a lot younger than others fresh out of medical school, and the real nail in the coffin is you’re a woman; gender bias in the medical field is absolutely astounding.

So, here you are in this clinic with its beige walls and oak wood accents, sitting at a desk reading over the chart of a patient the attending physician said would be easy enough for you to handle on your own, with it only being your second week in the program.

The patient is Joel Miller, a thirty-four-year-old male complaining of knee pain. This is his follow-up appointment after he had scans done the previous week, and your job is to go over the treatment plan the physician has already decided on.

Your nose crinkles at the other doctor’s notes, seeing he isn’t offering a long-term solution but instead is basically shoving a band-aid over a gaping wound that will progressively get worse over time. That wouldn’t do; already figuring out better options in your mind that would have lasting effects and offer relief—that’s something that drew you to medicine in the first place, always having to solve puzzles, making your brain work to help people and save lives.

You’re interrupted by Janis, the nurse who you’re pretty sure hates you, though you don’t know why glaring as she lets you know the patient is ready to see you. Maybe she’s just one of those people with resting bitch face, and you shouldn’t take it personally, except she’s so cold towards you. There isn’t anything you can do about it. Shrugging it off as you get up from your chair, your white coat on and stethoscope hanging around your neck, making your way to room four with the chart in hand.

There are many facts you know about the man you’re seeing: his name, age, occupation, vitals, what the inside of both his knees look like—knocking softly on the door twice, you enter, closing it behind you for privacy—those details hadn’t prepared you for what he looks like. When your eyes land on him sitting on the edge of the exam table, you pause, struck by how handsome he is—brown waves of hair, big chocolate-colored eyes, plush lips, ridiculously broad shoulders that have the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing hugging his chest sinfully.

You gulp, mentally berating yourself for finding a patient attractive, reminding yourself you’re here to do a job to help him feel better, quickly regaining your composure and offering your name.

“...I’ll be your doctor today,” you tell him.

His eyes round, mouth falling open before he catches himself and closes it, seeing that gorgeous throat of his work as he swallows.

You need to stop noticing his attractiveness—he’s a patient.

“Doctor…?” he asks slowly, with a drawl you’re becoming familiar with.

The surprise is clear on his face, which is something you’re used to, the walls rising inside you, readying yourself for a fight because either he’s going to be okay with you taking care of him, or he’ll be a dick and demand another, older, male, doctor—which has happened multiple times this week and is why you’ve only treated a dozen or so patients.

Your chin rises as you reply with a nod, “Yes. I’ll be handling your care.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just I can’t believe you’re a doctor.”

Your eyebrow quirks.

“Because I’m a woman? Young?”

He shakes his head as he speaks, “‘Cause you’re so beautiful.”

That’s an unexpected response that has you so taken aback that your breath hitches, trying to control the butterflies that are wildly fluttering around in your tummy.

His eyes get big, realizing what he said, quickly backtracking, flush staining his cheeks as he looks away. “I am so sorry, ma’am,” he says. “It’s rude of me to be commentin’ on your looks when you’re just doin’ your job. You probably think I’m some creep.”

This poor man is beating himself up about saying the nicest thing anyone’s said to you all week.

“I don’t think you’re a creep,” you reassure him. His eyes meet yours, him gauging if what you’re saying is true, so you smile. “You’re honestly very sweet. A lot of people have a hard time getting over my age or that I’m a female in a male-dominated profession, so you thinking I’m too beautiful is a lovely change and also wonderful for my self-esteem.” You laugh.

His lips curl up.

“Well, I’m happy you’re not kickin’ me out. You bein’ a young woman doesn’t bother me—wish my daughter was here so she could see that if she wanted, she could be like you one day.”

The sincerity of his words has your chest going tight. In med school, a doctor told your class to let the patient ramble at the start of the appointment for five minutes because you’ll learn quite a lot about them. Usually, it’s things about their lifestyle or what’s actually causing them issues. What you now know about Joel Miller is that he’s respectful, a sweetheart, and a caring father—you’re fucked, realizing your eyes are drifting to his left hand, happy that you don’t see a ring.

Not that it means anything to you. He’s your patient. You need to focus.

“How old is your daughter?” you ask.

That’s a safe question. It’s important to build rapport and trust, plus you’re genuinely curious and want to know more about him to ensure you give him the best care—at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

He visibly brightens, and it’s adorable.

“She’s twelve, turnin’ thirteen Saturday after next. Her name’s Sarah and I can’t believe how quickly she’s growin’—feels like just yesterday she was havin’ me check under her bed for monsters.” He has a fond expression on his face.

“Wow, you’re gonna have a teenager. Are you and your wife planning a big party for her?”

There’s no way he’s single, not that it matters to you.

“No wife, or girlfriend, for that matter. Sarah wanted a slumber party with her friends, so I’ll be hidin’ away in my room alone watchin’ a movie or somethin’.”

It shouldn’t excite you to hear he doesn’t have a partner, but there’s a thrill moving through you.

“Sounds like my ideal Saturday night—just relaxing watching tv or a movie.”

“Yeah?” He smiles. “We got somethin’ in common, then.” He scratches at the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. “I, uh, wanna apologize again. You just caught me off guard, is all—was expectin’ Dr. Carlson with his bad combover.” There’s a smirk on his face when he continues, “But you’re a nice surprise.”

“Because I’m easier on the eyes?” you tease.

Don’t flirt with the patient!

“Yes,” he chuckles.

It’s time to focus on your job and not how his eyes twinkle, clearing your throat as you approach him.

“So, Mr. Miller—“

“Please call me Joel,” he interrupts.

You smile.

“Okay, Joel, I was looking over your chart, and you're having pain in both knees?”

“That’s correct.”

Pulling your pen from your pocket, you ask, “Has it gotten worse since last week? Feel any different?”

“No, ma’am.”

You jot down his answer.

“Well, that’s good.” Your eyes land on his. “May I take a look?” you ask, pointing your pen at his lower half.

“Of course.” He nods enthusiastically. “Look, touch, do anythin’ you want to me, I don’t mind.” He grimaces, whispering to himself, “Jesus, I’m embarrassin’.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips past your lips.

“You’re okay, Joel,” you say, putting away your pen and moving to set the chart down on the nearby counter opposite the exam table to wash your hands in the sink.

He lets out a long sigh.

“It’s been a while,” he says. “I’ve forgotten how to talk to women.”

“That’s gotta be a problem with fifty-one percent of the population being female,” you reply as you dry off your hands with a paper towel, tossing it in the trash when you’re done.

He snorts, you turning around and seeing the amused look on his face.

“I’ve forgotten how to talk to women I think are pretty.”

“Well, thank goodness we’re having no issue holding a conversation.”

“It’s taking a whole helluva lot of effort with your gorgeous eyes lookin’ at me.”

Heat is crawling up your neck to your face, focusing on getting your bearings back together. Taking a few steps, you’re close with a little bit of space, needing to get the appointment back on track.

“So, I’m going to examine your knees over your jeans. If I need to, can I push them up your legs?” you ask.

“Want me to take them off?” he asks eagerly.

It makes you laugh, him smiling.

“There’s no need for you to strip.”

“You sure?” he asks with a crooked smile.

“Positive,” you answer, winking.

What is wrong with you? You need to stop flirting with him. He’s a patient! You’re the embarrassing one here. It’s like something inside you shifts when you look down at his right knee, going into doctor mode, brain whirling as you gently touch it over his jeans. Joel tenses, a reaction that furrows your eyebrows, meeting his eyes.

“Does it hurt when I touch here?”

There shouldn’t be any pain based on the scans; if there is, you’ll need to have more imagining done.

“No.” He shakes his head.

“Okay. I need you to tell me if anywhere I touch hurts.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Your attention is back on what you’re doing, processing what you’re feeling under your fingertips, having him extend his leg so you can see his range of motion, Joel’s face pinching in pain, which you expected.

“I’m going to push up your jeans.”

“You go right ahead.”

Getting them up to his thigh, Joel shivers when you touch his warm skin.

“Sorry about my hands being cold,” you murmur, pressing into the back of his knee to feel his ligaments and tendons, comparing in your mind to what you saw on the scans with how it feels.

“Your hands are nice—soft,” he replies in a gentle tone.

The doctor-patient relationship is sacred and an essential part of healthcare, built on trust, respect, communication, and common understanding. You swore to follow certain ethical guidelines to ensure that your patient gets the highest level of care. Things might be flirty with Joel and you, but his health is your main priority—it’s your job, and you’re not going to cross a line, even if he’s tempting you like forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden. While he’s your patient, that’s all he’ll be and nothing more. You’re focused, being thorough, and checking for anything that’s out of the ordinary.

“You don’t have to answer,” he says, “I know it’s a personal question, but how old are you..?”

You’re busy working, answering distractedly, “Twenty-four.”

“Jesus,” he gasps. “And you’re already a doctor?”

There’s slight swelling but no tears that you can tell—everything matches the imaging.

“I have the degree,” you say. “This is the first year of my residency—basically, I’m a doctor in training, but I’ve treated people.”

There’s a curious expression on his face when you finally glance at him.

“I’m just thinkin’ about all the schoolin’. Are you a bit… younger?”

Smiling, you answer, “Yes. I did a lot of work to get my degree sooner—basically zero life outside of school for the past six years.”

He looks impressed.

“Christ, smart and beautiful, your boyfriend’s a lucky guy.”

“My boyfriend is non-existent—was too busy with school. Well, no changes in this knee from last week—” You pull his pant leg back down. “—so that’s good. Let me check the other.” You move, immediately pushing up his jeans this time. “Does one hurt worse than the other?” you ask, going through the same exam as you did on the other, checking his motion and behind his knee.

“Uh, nope. Both hurt the same. Sarah says it’s ‘cause I’m old,” he chuckles.

“Has Sarah thought about becoming a doctor?”

As you thought, this knee doesn’t have any changes either.

“No—she wants to be a singer.”

You finish, putting his pants back in place, straightening your spine as you look at him.

“Well, she’s got a knack for medicine—she diagnosed you.”

He frowns.

“The pain is because of my age…?”

“It’s a big contributing factor along with the wear and tear from the work you do.”

He runs a hand through his hair, sighing loudly.

“You must think I’m an old man.”

“I don’t.” You shake your head. “You’re only a little older than me.”

He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Ten years is a lot.”

“Not really.” You shrug. “And you’re in excellent shape aside from your knees, but that’s bound to be an issue with your job.”

There’s a change in how he’s looking at you, and it has you gulping, watching him slide his thumb over his bottom lip like he wants your attention to go there, getting his wish, not able to stop yourself from wondering if his lips are as soft as they look.

“You, uh, think I’m in excellent shape?” His voice has gone deeper, ignoring the simmering heat in your belly.

“Ye-yes,” you stutter. He’s smirking, and you need to get back into safe territory, clearing your throat before you start speaking, “So, let me go over what we’re gonna do to help with the pain.”

From the look on his face, he’s disappointed, which confuses you, not understanding his reaction.

A tired sigh comes from him before he says, “I’m assumin’ medication, then?”

Oh, he thinks you’re going to give him a prescription for pain relief instead of actually treating him. It’s a common issue with doctors who are up to their ears in patients—instead of taking the time to figure out the root of the cause and treat it accordingly, they just write out a prescription to make the patient comfortable, a temporary solution, that has them coming back again, and again. Dr. Carlson’s plan was medication for Joel.

You’re moving to pick up his chart, your eyes scanning over the information, and turning the page, seeing that this is his sixth visit this year, and it’s only July—imaging wasn’t even ordered until last week.

“How long have you been dealing with this pain?” you ask.

“Last couple of years, I started gettin’ achy. Then in, uh, December of last year, there was a big job I was workin’ on—twelve-hour days for almost three weeks straight, and they started hurtin’ real bad.”

Your blood is boiling that he’s had to suffer for so long.

There’s a serious expression on your face when you look at him.

“There are other things we can do that will be long-term. With you being a single dad, the sole provider for Sarah, and working a manual labor job, I don’t think you’ll have time to commit to physical therapy, and I wouldn’t want to take away from your quality time with her.”

He looks surprised before his expression softens.

“What are you thinkin’, Doc?”

You smile warmly, jumping into what you planned that he can do at home, Joel listening intently as you explain each of the things in detail, him nodding along, seeming to like what you’re saying.

“You think it’ll work?” he asks when you finish.

“I do.” You nod. “It’s just keeping up on the exercises—we need to strengthen and stretch those muscles to assist with joint movement, and the other things I suggested will help with the swelling and give you some relief.”

He’s nodding. “I understand—do the exercises. Don’t wanna let you down.”

You pull a small notepad from your jacket pocket, placing it over the chart as you start writing out your treatment instructions, replying, “You shouldn’t be worrying about me.”

“Maybe I wanna worry about you. You’re the first doctor that’s actually cared about helpin’ me. Gonna have to come here more often to see you since you take such great care of me.”

“I’m not your primary physician.” You’re almost finished writing. “You’d end up seeing Dr. Carlson.”

“What if you became my primary doctor?”

Tearing off the page, you hold it out to him, his hand taking it.

There’s something here between you two, a connection you can feel, so you tell him truthfully, “Then all I could and would be is your doctor.”

Understanding dawns on him.

“Oh, is the appointment over?”

“Do you have any other concerns?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then the appointment is over. If you have any other issues or questions, please reach out to Dr. Carlson. It’s been a pleasure helping you today, and if there’s nothing else, you’re more than welcome to leave.”

He gets down from the table, groaning when he stands up straight, folding up your note and putting it in his pocket.

Thinking there’s nothing else he wants to say and not acknowledging the disappointment that feels like a stone in your belly, you make your way toward the door.

“Wait,” he says. You stop, turning around to face him. “I have a question.”

Taking a couple of steps closer to him, you ask, “What’s your question?”

He closes the distance, stopping when he’s taking up your vision, focusing on his big brown eyes, noticing his spicy cologne that has you feeling warm. He scratches at the back of his neck, looking nervous.

“Well,” he starts, “since I’m no longer your patient and you’re not my doctor, I’m not usually this forward, and I know I don’t have a chance in hell, but I’m wonderin’ if you’d wanna give an old guy like me a shot at takin’ you out?”

Happiness thrums in your veins that he asks, unable to help when a laugh sputters from you, quickly covering your mouth, his cheeks going red, looking unsure and embarrassed. You quickly apologize, “Sorry! I’m not laughing at you for asking me out—I want to go out with you.” That makes him perk up, rewarding you with a dimpled grin. “It’s just you said I was the first doctor to actually help you, and you’d rather date me than have me take care of you. It’s sweet but also hilarious.” You’re laughing again.

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, the other perched on his hip, keeping his weight to one side.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are a lot more doctors out there—sure, I can find another, but I’ve only ever met one you, and I’m not gonna miss my opportunity to get to know you better.”

It feels like your skin is buzzing, so caught off guard by how genuine he is, seeing it in those dark eyes of his.

“How are you single?”

Is there something you’re missing? Some deep dark secret? He seems so perfect and adorable. It makes zero sense that he’s unattached.

There’s a sad smile on his face.

“Not a lot of women are into single dads.”

“That’s a lie—I’m very into single dads.”

He laughs, a beautiful flush crawling up his neck.

“I’m happy to hear that. Can I get your number?” he asks, pulling out a Nokia phone from his pocket and holding it out to you. “I just got this.”

“Of course.”

Taking it, you punch in the numbers, saving them to his contacts before giving it back. He looks at the little screen, hitting some buttons.

“‘Doc’?” he asks amusedly, meeting your eyes. “Why not your name?”

“Can’t take the risk of a handsome guy like you meeting another girl with my name—need to make sure I stand out,” you answer with a wink.

“No other woman is like you. I only want your number.”

“You’re really laying it on thick,” you tease. “I can assure you that you’ve successfully seduced me, and I really want to go out with you.”

He smiles.

“Good. I really wanna go out with you, too. What time are you off?”

“Seven.”

“Can I call you later?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Then I will.”

“I can’t wait.”

The joy is evident on his face, and you know you’re wearing a matching expression.

He holds out his hand as he says, “It’s been a pleasure meetin’ you today, Doc.” Holding his chart with one arm, you shake his offered palm that engulfs your smaller one. “You’re already a mighty fine doctor.” He winks, bringing your hand up to place a soft, chaste kiss on the back of it, his gaze staying on yours. Your skin tingles, and your body feels like it's burning from the inside out as your jaw goes slack.

Your voice is rough when you say, “You are a liar, Joel Miller.”

His eyebrows dip together, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“You said you’d forgotten how to talk to women, and that is not true—not even a little bit. Got me thinking about kissing your stupidly perfect face.”

He crookedly grins.

“Stupidly perfect?”

“Yes,” you groan.

“And you wanna kiss it?”

He gets closer, your bodies practically pressing together.

“Yes.”

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, leaning into his touch, his eyes moving from your own to your lips, the tension rising, thinking he might go for it and hoping he will.

His voice goes lower, “Then we better go out soon.” He takes a small step back, putting space between you, your heart pounding hard in your chest. “You busy tomorrow night?”

“No,” you breathe.

“Off at the same time?”

“No.” You shake your head. “It’s a half day.”

“Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Yes.” You nod.

He smiles brightly.

“It’s a date. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Doc.”

“Bye, Joel.”

He brings your hand up to kiss the back of it one more time and leaves you standing there in a daze, thankful that out of fifty applications across the entire United States, this was the clinic that accepted you, inadvertently introducing you to Joel Miller.

Spring 2024 - Jackson, Wyoming

For a cold night, the house is comfortably warm, the room illuminated in a soft glow by the bedside lamp, the sky outside dark and hidden by the closed blinds—Joel’s on his knees on the bed, your legs resting over his arms keeping them spread with his hands tightly gripping onto your hips, holding your ass up as he fucks into you hard.

The nap had lasted a couple of hours, the front of your body snug against his back, his fingers intertwined with yours over his heart, kissing his bare shoulders when you woke. Water was drunk, some food was eaten from the rations in your pack, and the next thing you knew, Joel’s face was buried between your legs.

Now, he’s grunting as he pounds into you, his thick cock pushing into that one heavenly spot that only he’s been able to find with his eyebrows furrowed and teeth bared—your head is dizzy with pleasure, fire burning so brightly in your belly that it’s going to explode at any second.

You’re gasping moans, your fingers digging into the bedspread, feeling so fucking close to coming, every thrust having the muscles in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.

“Come on, baby,” he says through gritted teeth. “Let me fuckin’ have it—you feel so fuckin’ good. Fuck, wanna feel you come.”

“Close,” you whine. “Oh, fuck.” Your body is starting to writhe, not able to control yourself. “You’re fucking me so good, Joel. Oh, god. Gonna come.”

The slap of his hips echoes in the room, the sound magnified by how wet you are, filling the air with the loud squelch of your cunt mixing with rough sounds coming from Joel’s throat and your breathy noises.

The heat builds in the pit of your stomach, growing hotter and thicker until stars are dancing at the edge of your vision, coming with a shout of his name.

“There it fuckin’ is,” he groans, “My good girl—I fuckin’ love you.”

Your body seizes up, the pleasure starting deep in your center and radiating out through your limbs, feeling it spread to the tips of your fingers and toes, your mind going hazy. Joel slows to a grind, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his throbbing dick, working you through your high.

The orgasm ebbs and your body continues to tremble—opening your eyes to meet his lust-blown gaze, a lazy smile on his lips.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks.

Smiling dreamily, you answer, “Yeah, babe. Feel fucking amazing. You’ve always known how I like to be fucked.”

“Yeah, I do,” he rasps, slowly thrusting, “and I know you got one more in ya.” He slaps your hip, making you gasp when he pulls out, letting your legs fall to the bed. “Hands and knees, baby,” he says, helping you get into position, your body thrumming in excitement, knowing what’s to come.

Your knees sink into the mattress, hips up, forearms resting against the pillow just how he wants you, looking over your shoulder to watch him grab onto the flesh of your ass, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” he says, spreading open your asscheeks, the bed jostling as he moves. His face gets close, moaning when you feel him spit onto your entrance, the hot saliva mixing with your slick and come, your eyes closing, facing forward once more.

He straightens up, wasting no time to press back inside you in one smooth thrust, gasping at how he stretches you. It was something you’d never tire of, the way he fills you and how your body makes space to have him fitting all nice and snug, sliding perfectly along your sensitive walls.

His hands are grabbing onto your hips, digging in his fingers as he starts moving, soft sounds falling from your lips with each push and pull of his cock inside you. He sets a punishing pace, hearing the dull smack of your bodies colliding and his balls slapping into your clit, him grunting in exertion with how hard he’s slamming into you.

Your head falls forward, pressing it into the cushiony pillow, him turning you into a whimpering, drooling mess at how good it feels, the familiar heat in your core growing, expanding, as he fucks you into the mattress.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he grits out, his hand landing on your asscheek in a resounding smack that has your cunt clenching. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

He’s making your ass jiggle and thighs quiver with every hard thrust, whining in reply, “Yes, Joel. So good.”

You have to push back to keep him from fucking you into the headboard, your arms trembling, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your end.

His hand leaves your hip to massage your clit, making you keen, the jolts of electricity ramping you up and setting every nerve in your body ablaze, clawing at the pillow for something to hold onto.

You’re so close—everything he’s doing to you builds you up until you fall over the edge, chanting his name as the waves of euphoria spread through you.

“My good fuckin’ girl,” Joel groans, grabbing your hips once more to fuck you through your climax, going harder to extend it—snapping into you with abandon. It makes your head spin, and feels like the pleasure just keeps going and going—

He comes to a sudden stop with a hiss—pulling out, the bed jostles as he falls onto it beside you on his back. You’re coming down from your high, turning your head to see his chest heaving as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. Reaching over, you pat his flushed, sweaty chest.

“Tire yourself out?” you mumble.

“Yeah,” he pants.

“Shoulda listened to Tommy and stuck to missionary, you old man.”

His head turns a fraction toward you, opening one eye with a grumpy expression on his face, grumbling, “Don’t be fuckin’ mean.” You laugh when he pinches your hip, your body crumpling flat onto the mattress.

“I’m sorry, babe,” you giggle, scooting over to him to throw your arm over his stomach and rest your head over his heart, leaning up to kiss his chin.

“Liar,” he replies.

“I’m not lying,” you say into his skin. “I am a little sorry.”

“Good—did I, uh, tire you out?” he asks.

You snort.

“Need me to get on top and finish you off?”

His cock is still hard and resting on his belly, wetting his skin in your slick.

He lets out a long sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Say no more,” you reply, kissing his stubble.

With a groan, you’re moving to straddle his hips, one hand on his chest to hold yourself up, the other moving to grab his dick to notch him at your opening, him twitching in your palm. It’s a reflex when his big hands land on your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles into your soft skin.

“Fuckin’ love when you’re on top,” he rasps, his glazed-over gaze on yours.

“‘Cause you like watching my tits bounce.”

He’s unable to reply, his mouth falling open as you sink down on him, your eyes fluttering closed at how he feels so much bigger like this, your thighs meeting when you bottom out.

“God, I love your dick,” you moan, both hands on his chest, rolling your hips, adjusting to the fullness.

His voice is strained when he replies, “I know you do—always hungry for my dick.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his face out of my pussy—fuck,” you gasp, tilting your hips to have him press into something divine.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Gotta make up for lost time.” One of his hands moves to your center, pressing his thumb to your clit it making pleasure spark in your belly. “You wanna come again?” he asks.

Meeting his eyes, you shake your head, “No,” you answer. “I’m spent. Another, and I know I’ll pass the fuck out.”

He smirks. “Nothin’ wrong with that.”

Your eyebrow raises.

“Except that you’d have to get yourself off with your hand—I’m good, babe. It’s your turn.”

“Okay.”

His hand goes back to your hip, your inner walls fluttering around him, starting to move up and down, rising on your knees and falling over and over, his eyes locking on your chest with his jaw slack.

“Fuck,” he groans. “So fuckin’ beautiful. Lean down, baby.”

It makes you grin. Of course, he wants you to lean down.

Your hands move to either side of his head to hold yourself up, riding him in earnest, not surprised when he palms your breasts. His fingers tease your stiff nipples, rolling and pinching them, causing electricity to shiver down your spine, breathily moaning as you work him over, feeling the sheen of sweat coating your skin and your thighs beginning to burn. There’s a beautiful flush covering him, his golden skin glistening in the lamplight, wanting to lick the drops of perspiration along the column of his throat. He feels so good inside of you, his cock moving in and out of you, going at a rhythm he likes, his face screwed up like he’s in pain, knowing he’s getting close with the rough noises he’s making.

“Kiss me,” he pants.

Lowering your face, you hover your lips over his. “Aren’t you needy,” you say between heavy breaths, nudging his nose with your own. “You want me to kiss you?”

“Please,” he croaks out, looking absolutely wrecked.

“My good boy asking so nicely.” He moans loudly, feeling his cock jerk. You give him what he wants, capturing his mouth in a kiss, pressing your lips forcefully to his while you keep rutting against him, his hands squeezing your breasts.

It’s loud between your legs, hearing the wet sounds of you moving on him.

“‘M close,” he murmurs into your lips, making you go harder, your heart pounding in your chest.

It doesn’t take much more for his big hands to finally grab onto your hips, pulling you down all the way to be flush with him, a dirty, low groan spilling from his throat as he comes—his dick twitching, the warmth of his spend filling your inner depths.

You’re wrung out, your head falling into the crook of his neck, panting hot breaths into his skin, Joel sounding just as winded, hugging his arms around you to hold you close.

Minutes you lay wrapped up in each other, your heartbeats slowing together, comfortable, happy, neither of you wanting to move.

Exhaustion is creeping up on you, afraid you’ll fall asleep. Your voice is muffled when you say, “Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m old.”

He swats your ass. “Stop that. You’re not old.”

“Joel, I want to sleep—I’m old,” you sigh. “I’m too tired to fuck.”

He sighs, too, replying, “Fuck, I’m tired, too—bone fuckin’ tired. That doesn’t mean we’re old.”

A memory comes to you. “Remember that one weekend Tommy watched Sarah? You’d been swamped with work the week before, and according to him, you were an absolute asshole because you needed to get laid, so when the job was done, he told you to stay with me all weekend, and we literally fucked the entire time?”

You’d barely left your bed.

“That was a good weekend.” You can hear him smiling.

“It was. We barely slept and fucked like rabbits. Joel, we didn’t even last all of tonight. Face it, babe, we’re old.”

“We just need a good night’s rest, and we could easily go all night.”

“Sure, babe—“ You lightly pat his cheek “—just some sleep, and we can go all night like we’re twenty years younger.”

“That’s what I said, and I know I’m right.”

“You’re cute,” you say, moving to kiss his jaw. “I gotta get up and go to the bathroom—I’ll grab us some water.”

“Mmkay.”

Unwrapping his arms, you carefully got up with a groan, the bed squeaking as you maneuvered off of it.

Your first stop was the en suite to take care of your needs and clean yourself up, relishing in the delicious ache between your legs at being thoroughly fucked. Next was doing the same walk of shame that Joel had taken earlier, not bothering to put on any clothes as you padded down to the first floor to refill your cups, returning with them full of water.

Your eyebrows dip together when you get back into the bedroom, finding Joel in the same spot you left him—his head is cushioned on a pillow, his eyes closed, completely still, seeing his chest's steady rise and fall.

Normally, he would’ve gotten up to clean himself up and use the bathroom.

Did he pass out?

You set the glasses on the bedside table next to him. “Joel?” you whisper. “Did you fall asleep?”

You’re afraid that if you touch him, you might startle him.

“No.” He says the word clearly.

Stepping closer to the bed, you push his messy hair away from his face.

“You just comfortable?” you ask.

“...no.”

Well, the slight pause has alarm bells ringing in your head.

“What do you mean?” You stroke your hand over his cheek. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He lets out a really long breath, finally blinking open his eyes to look at you, a frown on his lips.

“Don’t make fun of me…”

Oh, god, he’s hurt. Immediately you’re looking over his body for any sign of injury, noting that his breaths are even, your fingers moving against his neck to feel the steady thump of his pulse.

“What’s wrong?” you ask again.

“I… can’t move,” he answers, grimacing.

That narrows things down. “Jesus Christ, Joel. Hips or back?”

“Back—pulled somethin’. Fuckin’ hurts to move.”

Your brain is making quick work on how you will treat him, remembering you saw some ice in the freezer.

“Well, at least you didn’t break a hip,” you murmur. “Tommy and Ellie would’ve never let you live it down.”

That grumpy expression comes over his face.

“My hips are fuckin’ fine,” he grouses. “Just gotta lay here for a bit, and I’ll be okay.”

“Um, no,” you reply. “You’re not laying here and suffering.” Grabbing a glass of water, you ask, “First, I need you to drink something. Does it hurt to lift your neck?”

His frown becomes more pronounced, him lifting up as much as he can, and your hand immediately going behind his head to help him up, the other bringing the cup to his lips and tilting it for him to drink. Once he’d drunk the whole thing, he laid back against the pillow again.

“Thank you, baby.” He looks so sad, and it has you putting the glass back onto the table before cupping his cheeks and leaning down to kiss him softly.

Breaking it, you look him in the eyes, smiling. “You’re welcome, and don’t be upset. I believe you said it was sexy that I could treat your sex injuries, and I’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

His eyes are big. “I know you will,” he says softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, I gotta flip you over to make sure it is a pulled muscle and you didn’t slip a disk or something worse.”

“Okay,” he sighs.

Helping him get onto his stomach involves him making a lot of pained sounds and muttering ‘fuck,’ repeatedly. Luckily, after a quick exam, you confirmed it was just lower back strain.

Earlier in the evening, Tommy had dropped off a bag filled with clothes. Rummaging through it, you found a white t-shirt that was clearly meant for Joel that you put on before going downstairs to grab some ice that you wrapped in a small towel.

When you got back to your injured fiancé, you applied the cold compress to help reduce the pain and swelling.

You’re lying beside him, your hand holding the ice to where his pain is, his head turned toward you.

“I refilled the ice tray,” you say. “We just need to do this every three or four hours over the next couple of days, and you’ll have to take it easy. No strenuous activity.”

“Yes, Doc,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You wanted to fuck for a couple of days.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” you reassure. “I was dreaming big and did not account for the fact that I am no longer an energetic twenty-something. Honestly, I am so fucking exhausted. I think everything is catching up to me—saving Ellie, finding you, us walking here to Jackson. I want to sleep for days. Then there’s the fact you fucked me so good, I’m gonna need some time to recover—I’m sore.”

“We overdid it.” He lets out a breath.

“We overdid it.” You nodded.

“But it was good..?” He looks hopeful.

You smile. “So fucking good—worth the pain.”

“Yeah?” He smirks.

“Yeah.”

“I reckon it was worth the pain.”

Once his back is iced, he’s able to get up, and you both take a quick shower together, deciding to call it a night. Joel’s protective instincts have him sleeping closest to the door with a gun and knife on the bedside table, you nestled into his left side, your leg hitched up on his thigh, resting your head over his heart, the strong beats so calming that it has you relaxing. There’s no doubt that you’ll sleep more than a few hours—you’re beyond tired and sated, so comfortable and happy that your mind is already beginning to drift. Add in Joel’s fingers sliding along the bare skin over your ribs, the shirt you’re wearing pushed up under your breasts, and you’re in heaven.

It’s the early hours of the morning, the room is dark and quiet, save for your even breaths filling the air.

His voice is gentle and barely above a whisper, “Baby?”

“Hmmm?”

“In the shower, you asked about my scar?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s one below your belly button that I don’t think is from bein’ stabbed. How’d you get it?”

His question has your eyes flying open, the sleepiness now replaced with panic as your mind races and heart pounds, knowing exactly what scar he’s talking about—it’s surgical, a cut made by a scalpel that’d been hurriedly stitched up after the doctor sterilized you.

It’s an easy enough answer to give him since he’s aware you can’t get pregnant. But it feels like a lie; it’s not the whole truth that you’ve buried so deep down inside your conscious because of the pain of remembering.

You’d been adamant about wanting to protect Joel from the anguish of discovering the extent of all he lost twenty years ago. You didn’t see the point in upsetting him and knew without a doubt he’d blame himself. Yet, there’s a part of you that feels he deserves to know, that he needs to know, and that this isn’t something you should have to carry by yourself. He’s the love of your life, the man you’re going to spend whatever days you have left on this earth with, and it feels wrong to keep a secret like this from him. If he found out later, he’d be even more devastated, and you don’t want to betray his trust like that—you don’t want to keep anything from him, like how you hope he doesn’t keep anything from you. You’re partners, you’ve always shared everything, and this is no different.

The resolve hits you that you’re going to tell him the truth, the whole truth.

“We don’t have to talk about it…” he says when you’re silent for too long. “It’s late anyway.” The last word turns into a yawn.

“No, I’ll tell you,” you reply. Moving, you get on top of him, your thighs bracketing his naked hips, leaning over to turn on the lamp. His eyes squint from the light, looking uneasy, your body pressing into his to hover your face over his, holding yourself up on your elbows beside his head, stroking your fingers through his damp grey hair. His arms automatically wrap around your back to rub his hands along your shirt-covered spine.

“I’m not gonna like what you’re about to tell me, am I?” he asks with a frown.

“No, Joel,” you answer softly. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch, so take a deep breath for me.”

The expression on his face turns serious, clenching his jaw, his hands stopping their movements.

His voice is low, “How’d you get the scar?”

“We’ll get to that in a second. First, I need you to understand that everything that happened to me is not your fault, okay?”

“Just fuckin’ tell me.”

“You tell me first that you understand what I just said.”

“Yes—not my fault,” he says impatiently. “Tell me.”

One of the things they teach you in medical school is how to give a person bad news. There are times when you have to tell someone they’re dying or have an incurable illness; a patient dies in surgery, and you’re having to inform the next of kin. It’s a step-by-step process, starting with finding out the person's understanding of the situation for a place to begin and build upon. Next is the warning shot, which you delivered by telling Joel that what you’re about to tell him is going to hurt. Then you present the news in plain words to avoid any misunderstandings. It’s common for there to be silence, so you wait for them to make the next move and validate any emotional responses. It’s a little fucked up that this is the process you’re going to use to tell him, but it’s the best way to ease him into it and not cause too much emotional distress all at once.

“Good,” you reply. “Remember in the truck when I told you I took measures to ensure I couldn’t have children?”

“Yes. The scar’s from that? Surgery?”

“Yes.”

“Okay… what aren’t you tellin’ me?”

Taking a deep breath, you answer, “The reason I had it done.”

His eyebrows crease together, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“But you said—”

That you had a fellow doctor help you out.

“Yes,” you cut him off, “except after the Outbreak, especially right at the beginning, doctors weren’t doing elective surgeries, and still aren’t with the lack of supplies. They only do sterilization at the time of childbirth or in conjunction with another abdominal surgery.”

“Please, for the love of God, say surgery,” he says desperately, and it makes your chest ache, hating that you’re putting him through this.

Cupping his cheeks, you give another warning shot, saying as gently as possible, “Joel, I’m sorry I have to tell you this, but I was pregnant.”

His eyes go wide. “When?” he breathes, but you can tell he already knows the answer.

“2003.”

He looks like he’s just been punched, his face pinching in pain, squeezing his eyes shut as he absorbs the blow and processes what you said.

There’s a roughness to his voice when he speaks again, hearing the hurt when he whispers, “The baby?”

“Didn’t survive the pregnancy.” Swallowing hard, your eyes are burning at remembering all that’d happened, knowing something was wrong, and discovering the worse when an ultrasound was done. “I, uh, lost her in December of that year. I was a little over five months along.”

The devastation is clear on his face when his gaze meets yours, seeing how hard he’s trying not to cry with the tears brimming his eyes and his bottom lip trembling.

His throat bobs, the word cracking when it leaves his mouth, “Her?”

“Yes.”

“Five months? Five? You were… you were…” He can’t even say the whole sentence. “Before? On my, my… On my birthday?” Tears start falling down his cheeks.

Your throat is so tight that it’s hard to speak, answering morosely, “Yes.” Wiping at the wetness on his face, continuing, “I found out a few days before.” The next part, you say so quietly, “I was going to surprise you—it was your gift.”

You can see his heart break, and it makes your own squeeze so tight it steals your breath. It was the right thing to tell him—he deserved to know, but it comes at such a great cost, feeling terrible that you’re causing him so much distress. A pained noise comes from him as he crushes you in a hug, pressing your face into his neck, his body shaking as he cries hard, giving in to your own sadness.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” you sob.

He’s in agony. It hurts. The pain is gut-wrenching, the sadness so deep inside of him he can feel it twisting him in knots, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. It’s like someone is trying to skin him from the inside out. What he’s feeling is unbearable, and he is unsure if he will survive.

Getting stabbed felt better than this. He’d rather get stabbed because that’s something that heals and scars over, but this? It’s a gaping wound that’s going to stick with him just like Sarah’s death had.

There was nothing he’d wanted more than to have a baby with you all those years ago, and now knowing how close he got to his dream—that he lost two daughters without even knowing, he’s at an utter loss, the anguish consuming him, and overflowing into the tears he can’t hold back, letting it all out as he holds you close, needing your comfort.

His body is trembling uncontrollably, wracking with sobs. “We lost our baby,” he chokes out. “Our baby girl—I lost my babies.”

It feels like his chest is caving in, his heart getting crushed under the weight of his sadness, and he’s thankful you’re here with him—you’re keeping him grounded, your presence stopping him from simply checking out, and he’s allowing himself to feel the emotions, and grieve, something he couldn’t do with Sarah.

He can’t even imagine what you went through alone—losing the baby, him, and Sarah. At least he still had Tommy, but you had no one, having to deal with it all by yourself. Joel feels like shit that he wasn’t there for you in your time of need, wondering if he had been, would the baby have survived? Did another of his kids die because he failed to protect them again? Maybe he wasn’t meant to be a father—he’s not supposed to outlive his children, and he has with two of them, fucking delivering the third to people who wanted to take her from him, too, and barely saving her. He’s a failure as a father, unable to keep his kids safe, and now he’s very aware of how much stronger you are than him. After all the loss you went through alone, and you kept going? He’s weak in comparison, a coward; he barely survived—a failure of a father, partner, and human.

Your words are muffled, your tears hot on his skin, “I’m sorry,” you cry. “I did everything I could to give her the best chance, and it wasn’t enough.”

It’s not right that you’re blaming yourself, and he’s so angry at himself that he’s stopped crying, needing to make you understand it wasn’t your fault—if anyone’s to blame, it’s him.

He pulls you up to look you in the eyes, seeing your face is wet, his large palms caressing your cheeks. “I know you did all you could.” He speaks the words clearly, making sure you can hear the truth. “It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I… I,” he stutters, “failed you both.”

Your eyebrows dip down, going serious. “I told you everything that happened to me isn’t your fault, Joel. You can’t blame yourself for what happened to the baby, or Sarah, for that matter. I’m the one who fucked up and got a flat tire. I’m the one who became a doctor for the army and had to deal with the stress of treating people caught in the blasts when they tried to stop the spread of infection by bombing Alberquerque, which didn’t even work. The city was lost, the army cut their losses and sent us to Phoenix, we just…” You pause, sounding ashamed when you say, “We abandoned the survivors—left people in the medical camp who’d die without treatment, and as a doctor, I was horrified, but as an expectant mother? I was one of the first people on the truck because the baby was all I cared about.” Taking a deep breath, you continue, “I figured having the protection of the military and access to medical supplies was the best option I had to safely bring her into the world, even at the cost of my morals—she was all I had left of you, and I was willing to do anything to protect her, and in the end, she didn’t make it, and none of it was your fault.”

“There’s a chance she would’ve survived if I was with you.” Pain cuts through him like a hot knife, the regret stinging. “They both might’ve survived if I’d been with you.”

It’s weighing on him how things could’ve been different, feeling like it was all his fault for not finding you sooner. After Sarah’s death, he doesn’t remember much about the days or weeks that followed—he’d completely disconnected from everything and wasn’t himself, simply an emotionless shell of a person that did whatever he needed to keep Tommy safe, looking for you in every QZ, settlement, or army camp they entered. That night everything went down, they should’ve checked the route you took, they should’ve tried harder to find you. His mind is whirling with all of the different choices he could’ve made.

Your hand cups his cheek. “Hey,” you say softly. “Don’t think about the what ifs. I know it’s hard, but all it will do is drive you crazy. What happened, happened, and you don’t need to torture yourself over it by thinking of how you could’ve changed things. So, stop blaming yourself. I don’t blame you. I’ve never blamed you. It gave me the strength to keep searching for you, thinking that you and Sarah were out there looking for me, too. We can’t go back in time, so we focus on the present and the fact that after everything we’ve been through, we still managed to find each other again.”

Hearing that your grief spurred you on to keep looking for him makes guilt roil in his stomach over how weak he’d been and that, by his own hand, he’d almost made your search pointless.

There’s no sugarcoating it, and you should know after all you’ve revealed to him, so he just says it, “I tried to kill myself.”

It makes you flinch, shock coming over your face. “What?” you whisper. “Joel, when? Why?”

Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly, his eyes darting away because he feels so much shame.

“Second day,” he answers. Swallowing thickly, he continues, the emotion making his voice rough, “Sarah died in my arms, and after all the shit I saw, I thought you were gone, too, and that was why you never made it to my house. I lost you both and couldn’t see the point anymore.” He takes a second to figure out his next words. “I’m, uh, not as strong as you are. The two people I love most were taken from me, and I didn’t want to keep living. Simple as that. Wasn’t even scared,” he admits. “I was ready—more than ready.” He pauses, his jaw flexing as the memory of holding the gun and feeling so calm comes back to him. “When I…” He has to swallow again, a lump forming in his throat, it just as hard telling you as it was with Ellie. “When I went to pull the trigger, I flinched.” His gaze meets yours, seeing the sadness in your eyes. “I, uh, told Ellie this story the other day, and I said I don’t know why I flinched, but some part of me likes to think it was Sarah tellin’ me to keep goin’ and not give up.” A sad smile turns up on his lips. “You know how she was always bossin’ me around.”

You sniffle, sharing the same look as him, both thinking fond memories about his daughter. “Because you’re a fucking disaster, Joel,” you reply. “You need someone bossing you around.”

He’s not going to deny the truth. “That I do, and I’m so fuckin’ happy I did keep goin’ ‘cause I found you, and there’s Ellie.”

The only kid he has left.

If he was protective of her before, he doesn’t know what he is now, a little afraid he might become one of those annoying helicopter parents. He can’t risk anything happening to her. He needs to keep her safe, ignoring the sudden urge to jump out of bed to go over to Tommy’s to check up on her.

After the resort town, and what she’d gone through, he’d been so worried about her change in demeanor—how quiet she became, closed off, distracted, aloof. She wouldn’t talk about it, but from the look in her eyes and the blood that’d been on her clothes when he found her, she’d had to kill a person or people, and Joel felt like he’d let her down by not being able to keep her safe.

He hated when she had to shoot the guy in Kansas City to save him, and he hated even more that she had to kill when he wasn’t there to do it for her—she’s still just a kid, his kid, and he knew it’d be traumatic for her, even if she tried to put on a brave face, and sure enough, it’d fucked her up, Joel worried sick that he’d lost his upbeat, chatterbox, bad pun telling Ellie forever.

He’d done everything he could think of to cheer her up and get her out of her head as she’d always done to him, pretty sure he said more words to her on their trip to Salt Lake City than he’d said in the past twenty years combined.

Then she met you, and he knows it was you who brought her back to him—you’d literally taken him to her, helped save her life, and given her hope that everything she’d been through, the good and bad, all meant something, freeing her conscious of the guilt she’s held over those who’d died for her.

And since Joel and Ellie are cut from the same cloth and terrible with emotional shit, now that she’s better, they’re pretending like it hadn’t happened.

Thank Christ you were there to call him out on his lie about the Fireflies finding someone else and telling her the truth—she never would’ve forgiven him.

“I’m happy you kept going, too,” you say, “so you could be there for her. Ellie needs a parent, someone to love her unconditionally, and I know you love her like she’s your own kid.”

“I do.”

“Have you told her?”

He looks away. “...no. We’re, uh, not very good at that kinda thing.”

“I figured as much. You’ll have to tell her one day. I think it’d make her happy.”

“Maybe…” He looks at you again, frowning. “That little girl has been alone her whole life. No parents—abandoned with FEDRA when she was born. I reckon she’s never been loved or cared about, and she isn’t quite sure what to do now that she’s got a… a…”

What is he to her?

“Dad,” you finish for him. “You’re her father, and she’s your daughter. You’re still a dad, Joel. You’ve got another teenager to raise or at least guide. She’s no longer alone and now has people to love and care about her, all thanks to you.” You poke his nose.

“She’d hate me sayin’ I’m her dad…”

“Because it’s so foreign to her. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have one, and I think she’ll warm up to the idea after some time.”

He couldn’t help feeling hopeful. “It’d be nice,” he replies. “Easier way to explain our relationship, and I do know she loves me.”

She’d never had to say it. Her actions and how she said she’d follow him anywhere were enough for him to know. That’s how their relationship has always been—doing their damnedest to talk around their feelings because they’re both just so fucking awkward. He told Ellie it wasn’t time that healed him, and she’d understood what he meant: I love you, and you’re the reason I’m better. When she responded that she was glad the attempt on his life didn’t work out, he heard: I love you, too.

They get each other.

“Good,” you say. “I know she loves you, too.”

It’s an understatement to say life has been unkind to him. Frankly, it feels like all he’s gone through was some kind of sadistic test of his resolve to live, it getting harder and harder with every passing year.

Joel thinks he’s finally catching a break or at least hopes.

He’s got you, Ellie, and Tommy all together someplace safe.

It still hurts like hell everything he lost to get here, unable to stop himself from imagining what it’d be like if his other two daughters had survived—all of you settling in Jackson, him and you taking care of Ellie, Sarah in her thirties with her own home and a family, and then there’s the girl who would’ve recently turned twenty that looks like a mix of you both; he pictures a face with your gorgeous eyes, his mouth, your chin, and he’d feel awful that she got his nose, but she’s beautiful just like her mom.

What would she have been like? Would she have looked how he’s imagining? The thoughts have his chest squeezing so tight, feeling like he’s lost another piece of his heart after he just put it back together again.

His eyes are watery, his voice wobbly when he asks, “Did she have a name?”

Your face goes soft, sadness gleaming in your eyes, your fingers sliding through the hair above his ear. “Yes,” you answer.

“I’d like to know it,” he says softly.

“When I first found out, she was Jellybean.” There’s a fond expression on your face. “Then, after everything, I started calling her Hope? Didn’t even know if she was a girl, but to steal from Star Wars, she was my only hope and kept me going, so that’s what I referred to her as. If she’d ended up being a boy, I would’ve named her Joel.” That makes his breath catch in his throat. “Then I found out the gender, and Hope just stuck.”

“Hope was perfect.”

“Hope Miller.”

Tears are rolling down his cheeks. “Hope Miller,” he says, the name ending on a sob, Joel crying once more.

He hugs you close to him, breathing in your hair while he breaks down, your body shaking as you let go, too, needing each other at this moment, mourning together, sharing in the sadness.

It could’ve been minutes or hours later that there were no more tears to shed, both of you overly exhausted, feeling like your bodies had been wrung out of everything inside of them.

You lean over him to turn off the lamp on the bedside table, and with a hand on the back of your head, he brings you down for a tender kiss.

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” he murmurs into your lips.

“Thank you for telling me,” you reply.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, no matter what.”

“No matter what,” he agrees.

It’s comforting when you end up half on top of him, your leg thrown over his waist, your head on his chest, your arm across his belly. He holds you, everything that happened tonight, making him fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He turned onto his left side as he slept, and It’s the bed jostling, you sitting up quickly beside him, that has him waking abruptly, adrenaline pumping in his veins over not hearing the intruder enter the room. You’re in danger, his heart pounding, breathing hard, and he’s out of the bed immediately, needing to neutralize the threat, not seeing any weapons, his hand grabbing the unarmed man by the throat.

He’s being shouted at by you, it finally registering in his brain, “Joel, it’s Tommy!”

His brother’s eyes are wide, his hands clawing at Joel’s arm, using what little air he has to repeat, “It’s me, it’s me…”

It breaks him from the spell, letting go of the other man, who starts coughing.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy,” Joel growls. “I coulda fuckin’ killed you!”

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes. “I knocked, and nobody answered.”

“So, you broke in while we were sleepin’? You got a fuckin’ death wish?”

Tommy catches his breath. “I wasn’t thinkin’.” He looks sheepish. “Doc’s here, and I thought it’d be funny, like back in the day when I’d barge into your room when she was at the house.”

Joel’s hand is on his naked hip, the other pressing to his face.

One of Tommy’s favorite past times, back in Austin, was showing up at his house on Saturday mornings when he knew you’d be staying over and annoying the fuck out of you both until you got out of bed to go have breakfast at the diner with Sarah—after the first time, you started sleeping in a shirt much to Joel’s chagrin.

“You’re fuckin’ stupid, Tommy,” Joel sighs. “You can’t be doin’ that anymore. There’s a real chance I’d end up murderin’ ya, and I don’t need Maria hatin’ me more than she already does.”

“Maria doesn’t hate you.”

He moves his hand from his face to narrow his eyes at his brother. “Maria hates my fuckin’ guts,” he replies.

“Wait,” you say, Joel stepping to turn his body toward you, confusion on your face. “Why does Tommy’s wife hate you?”

There’s a thrill running through him because he knows that as soon as you find out, you’re gonna rip into his brother. He looks at the younger man, nodding his head toward you, “Tell her why Maria hates me.”

Tommy looks uneasy. “Well, like I said, she doesn’t hate you. She’s just gotta warm up to you, is all,” his brother says.

“Uh-huh.” Joel doesn’t sound convinced. “Stop beatin’ around the bush, and tell her.”

“I told her the truth of all we did in order to survive,” Tommy says quickly. “How we fuckin’ murdered innocent people and all that fucked up shit. I didn’t leave out anythin’ ‘cause she’s my wife, and I tell her everythin’.”

“Tommy,” your voice has gone low and serious, and Joel can’t help his smirk. “Did you blame everything you did on Joel and make him sound like a fucking monster?”

Tommy looks mad. “You don’t know what we did—all the people we killed. We could’ve done things differently. It was Joel’s fault.”

“For keeping you alive, Tommy?” she asks, Joel glancing her way to see her looking just as angry. “His daughter died in his arms. His daughter. He lost me that night, too, thinking I was dead, and you’re fucking blaming him for doing fucked up shit to keep the only person he had left alive? Are you fucking kidding me, Tommy? If anyone has survived to today, they’ve had to do horrible shit to get here—I’ve done horrible shit that I’m not proud of, but I’m still breathing, and that’s all that fucking matters.”

“There were other ways we could’ve survived,” Tommy says. “Maria—”

“Maria,” you interrupt, “wasn’t in the same situation as you and Joel. You make her sound like a goddamn saint, but I have no doubts she’s had to do fucked up shit, too. Get off your fucking high horse, Thomas. You were the last person Joel had, and after the shit that happened to him, you’re gonna bet your ass that he would do anything, no matter how shitty, to keep you alive. Frankly, you should be thanking him that you survived long enough to make it here.”

The other man breathes in deeply before replying, “Look, it’s in the past, and I get it now that he was just desperate to keep me livin’. I still feel pretty fuckin’ guilty about the shit that went down, but I understand why he did it. I’ll, uh, talk to Maria.”

“Yeah,” you say. “You better.”

“I will.” He nods.

“Did ya come over just to annoy us?” Joel asks his brother.

“No,” Tommy replies. “Brought y’all breakfast, like I said I would. It’s in the kitchen, and I’m also here to find out what the fuck happened ‘cause Ellie is a goddamn liar.”

Joel’s stomach twists. “What’d she say?”

“I know I said I tell everythin’ to Maria, but I kept my word to you and didn’t mention Ellie’s… condition. She thought you were takin’ the girl to find her family.”

“Thank you.”

“Ellie said y’all found the campus in Colorado abandoned and that you ended up in Utah at a hospital the Fireflies were usin’, and that’s where you found Doc. She said the place got hit by raiders, and you had to fight your way out.”

“I did find Doc at the hospital in Salt Lake City, and Colorado was abandoned,” he says. Scratching at the back of his neck, he looks away. “We got to Utah, found the Fireflies, but they’d wanted to kill Ellie in order to try and make a cure…”

“What the fuck did you do, Joel?” his brother asks through his teeth.

“Joel and I killed them all,” you answer for him, Tommy’s attention moving to you. “I was a doctor there and have been researching a cure for the last five years. Ellie was our key, but Marlene and the head of the facility wanted to murder her instead of doing a procedure that she would’ve survived. It was fucked up, so I helped Joel save the girl, and we took out the Fireflies in the process.” You shrug.

“You saved her instead of everyone else on the entire fuckin’ planet?” Tommy sounds like he can’t believe what he’s saying.

“I couldn’t let her die,” Joel replies, his eyes meeting his brother’s. “Not after Sarah—she’s my kid, Tommy.”

His brother sighs. “Yeah,” he replies. “I get why you’d do it. It’s just fucked that there coulda been a cure, and now what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Well,” you start. “If I can get my hands on the right equipment, I can do the biopsy and work on developing it myself, but I’d basically need a lab.”

“You could do it?” Surprise is in Tommy’s tone.

“Yeah? The assumption is that Ellie has had Cordyceps growing inside her since she was born—my theory is that her mom was bit while pregnant and somehow gave birth before turning.” That has Joel’s stomach falling through the floor at the thought of Ellie’s mother making sure her baby survived even after being handed a death sentence, not knowing if the child was infected, too. He understands, though, if he’d been in her shoes, he would’ve done the same thing to ensure his kid was safe—hell, he murdered an entire hospital, risking the lives of millions for Ellie, and he thinks her mother would’ve approved. “Anyways,” you continue, “what we think happens is when Ellie gets bit, the normal Cordyceps think she’s Cordyceps or that she’s already turned, making her immune. If I biopsy some of her mutated Cordyceps, I can multiply the cells to make a vaccine to give people that will cause the same immunity, or at least that’s what I’m hoping. There’s no guarantee it will work.”

“Fuckin’ A, Doc!” Tommy’s grinning. “I always said you were too fuckin’ smart to be with this fucker.” He points his thumb at Joel. “We got a clinic, nothin’ fancy, but I’m thinkin’ I could probably convince Maria that we need more medical shit. The town’s gettin’ bigger, anyway. It’d make sense. We can send raiding parties to nearby towns and cities to gather whatever they can find—you give me a list, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I can do that,” you reply. “Does Jackson have a doctor?”

“Yeah, Dr. Jones is an old, ornery motherfucker. We could use some new blood if you’re up for it.”

You smile. “I’d love to.”

“Great! The other reason I’m here—” he focuses back on Joel “—is findin’ out when you wanted to get hitched.”

Joel looks at you. “You got a preference, baby?”

“The sooner, the better?” You shrug.

He smiles, thinking the same thing as he nods his head, facing Tommy again. “You heard the lady. The sooner, the better.”

His brother’s smiling big, looking delighted. “In that case, be at the House of Worship in two hours.” He holds up two fingers.

“Will do. How’d Ellie sleep?” Joel asks. “You fed her, right? Let her take a shower?”

The younger man’s eyebrows are up to his hairline. “Jesus, you really care about this kid.”

“Congratulations, Tommy,” you say with a smile. “You’re an uncle again.”

“I guess I am—missed it.” He’s smiling softly. “She had no complaints when she woke this mornin’, and, of course, I fuckin’ fed her. Couldn’t believe how much food she scarfed down. I should be askin’ if you’ve been feedin’ her,” Tommy tells Joel as he pokes him in his bare chest. “She showered first thing at the house, and Maria got her more clothes.”

“Thank you for takin’ care of her. You didn’t have to,” Joel replies.

Tommy smirks, saying, “Based on all those fuckin’ hickies coverin’ your naked ass—” He points at Joel’s torso “—it’s safe to say it was better she stayed at mine last night.”

Joel’s cheeks heat, having not realized that he is, in fact, completely nude. Walking over to the bed, he groans as he sits down on the edge, pulling a blanket over his thighs to cover himself up, his back twinging in pain.

He sighs. “Yeah, yeah,” Joel says. “Thanks again for watchin’ her. Can you make sure she’s at the weddin’? You, too.”

“We’d really like you both there,” you add. “It’s important to us.”

“What about Maria?” Tommy asks, looking unsure.

“Like you said last time I was here,” Joel starts. “She’s family and allowin’ us to stay here, so she can come.”

You speak behind him, “But, if she isn’t civil and ruins my wedding, I get to kick her ass.”

Joel snorts, and Tommy puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Woah, Doc,” his brother says. “Maria isn’t gonna start shit—she’s seven months pregnant, for Christ’s sake, she’s got enough on her plate.”

The blood leaves Joel’s face, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut with all the air leaving his lungs.

He’d forgotten about his brother having a baby, or maybe he’d pushed the thought away because he didn’t like to think about it. It wasn’t his proudest moment how he acted when Tommy first told him the news. He’d been jealous and resented his brother for living his dream of being married with a kid on the way. Tommy was getting to live this happy, idyllic life, and Joel, at the time, was struggling with his fears of failing Ellie and getting her killed. It’d been too much to hear his brother had a kid on the way, making Joel dwell on the fact that Tommy had been right, his life had stopped all those years ago, and he couldn’t stand how his brother and everyone else in this town were living like the world hadn’t ended.

It didn’t feel fair to him, not with all he’d been through.

Of course, he wants to be happy for Tommy. He really does. He wants to be able to share in his joy, but it hurts so fucking bad being reminded of how close he’d gotten to having what his brother has now.

He lets air fill his lungs and slowly lets it out.

At least he’s got you back. And Ellie.

He’d started living again the moment Ellie had forgiven him, shoving her bag into his arms the last time they were in Jackson and telling him, ‘Let’s go.’ They went, and the journey wasn’t easy, both coming far too close to death to be comfortable. He found you, or you found him as it were, and now he’s getting his chance to live a happy, idyllic life married to you, and together, you’ll care for Ellie.

That sounds pretty fucking perfect to him.

A wife and a kid. Wouldn't have even crossed his mind a year ago—a fever dream.

“Someone married you,” you say in disbelief, taking Joel from his thoughts, “and is having your baby? I know the apocalypse happened, but did hell freeze over, too?”

“I forgot how fuckin’ mean you are, Doc,” Tommy chuckles.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Joel whispers, receiving a playful swat to his shoulder from you.

“I’m not mean,” you grumble.

He has to hold in his groan as he twists his body to pat your thigh. “No, you’re not,” he tells you. “You’re perfect.”

“Stop lyin’ to her,” Tommy says. “And I’ll have you know that I’ve matured, Doc, now that I’m older.”

Joel turns back, squinting his eyes at the other man. “You almost got yourself killed by bein’ dumb…” Joel replies.

“It was for old time’s sake.”

“Well, congrats, Tommy,” you tell him. “You were always so good with Sarah. I know you’ll be a great dad.”

Tommy smiles. “Thanks, Doc. I’m nervous but excited. Put together the nursery myself.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair and see y’all in a bit. Joel?”

Their eyes meet. “Yeah?”

“For all that’s holy, put on some fuckin’ clothes. We don’t need you bein’ our first prisoner in the town jail for public indecency.”

Joel glares at his brother. “You’re right,” Joel replies. “It’s time for you to get the fuck out. We’ll see you at the church.

Tommy laughs as he leaves, hearing his footsteps thudding down the stairs and the slam of the front door.

He presses his hands to his face, “Fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles into them.

There’s movement as you crawl up behind him, wrapping your arms around his front and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“You okay, babe?”

His arms go over yours to keep you in place, turning his head to look at you. “Yeah,” he answers. “I’m fine. Had a rude awakenin’, is all.”

“Do you wanna talk about becoming an uncle?”

He lets out a long sigh. “There’s nothin’ to talk about—I’m happy for Tommy.”

“Joel, you don’t have to lie to me. It would be reasonable if you were feeling hurt that your brother is living such a great life and having a baby. I’m…” you pause, chewing on your lip. Your voice is small when you keep speaking, “I’m sorry I can’t give you children, and I’d understand if you wanted to find someone else you could have a family with.”

Hissing in pain, he’s standing quickly and turning around to face you, getting back onto the bed on his knees, not understanding why you’d even say such a thing—not after everything you’ve both been through to find each other again.

Is this you getting cold feet? Do you not want to marry him? Did he rush things?

His hands cup your face, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes.

“What?” he asks. “Are you second guessin’ marryin’ me? Was it ‘cause of how I woke up?”

He’s scared.

“What?” You look confused, your hands rubbing up his bare chest. “I want to marry you. Your reaction this morning was warranted.” Letting out a slow sigh, you continue, “Just, I know how much you’d wanted kids, how we wanted kids, and I wouldn’t blame you, now that you’re in a place like this, if you wanted to settle down and start a family.”

His face pinches in confusion, saying slowly, “Baby, we have a family… You, me, Ellie, we’re a family, and you’re all I need. You’re the only woman I want to be with.” He swallows hard. “I can’t stomach bringin’ any more children into this world—I’ve lost too many.” He inhales deeply, letting it out slowly. “I… uh, struggle with my need to keep Ellie safe. It’s always on my mind, and it scares me that I’ll end up gettin’ her killed like… like…”

“Sarah?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Like Sarah. I know Ellie isn’t her. I’m very aware. They’re so… different.”

You smile softly. “But they would’ve loved each other.”

He smiles, “Yeah. I reckon they would. Sarah would’ve found Ellie funny.”

“Oh, yeah.” You grin. “Would’ve loved Ellie’s terrible puns.”

He’s fondly thinking about it as he says, “She had a book full of ‘em. They were fuckin’ awful—if you think my jokes are bad, these were worse.”

Laughing, you reply, “I love your dad jokes. They would’ve enjoyed music together, too.”

“That they would. Both would’ve given me shit if I played guitar for them.”

“Affectionately, because they can’t reveal how much they actually love it to avoid seeming uncool. I miss your singing. Remember the first time you played for me?”

“Sarah’s thirteenth birthday party.” He nods. “We were hidin’ away in my bedroom while the livin’ room was overrun with teen girls, and I was tryin’ my damndest to woo you by playin’ some Ben E. King.”

“Oh, you wooed me.” You smirk. “Stand by Me was always my favorite.”

“I know.” He smiles. “I’ll have to see about findin’ a guitar.” He’s gotta play for Ellie and you. “What we were discussion’,” he says. “Ellie’s different, and I know it. She can shoot a gun and protect herself—has protected herself when I wasn’t there.” He frowns. ”I worry about her constantly. Somethin’ inside me needs to know she’s okay. If I’m like this with a girl capable of killin’, how would I be with a baby? It honest to god frightens me, and I’m sure I’d end up worryin’ myself to death.”

Your arms loop around his neck, a tender expression on your face. “As a doctor, I can tell you it makes sense that you’re overprotective of your living child. Hopefully, being here in Jackson and not constantly on guard will ease some of the worries. Just know I’m here if you ever wanna talk.”

“Thank you, baby,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you. When he pulls back, he looks you in the eyes. “I’m happy with all we have,” he says truthfully, “and there’s nothin’ for you to be sorry about—Ellie is more than plenty.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” There’s something he can tell you to ease your mind, and it makes him smile crookedly. “As a matter of fact, me bein’ able to fuck you full of my come with no risk of knockin’ you up really riles me up—gets me harder than a fuckin’ rock. I’m happy as a fuckin’ clam, baby.”

Your eyes go a little wide. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “You’ve got whatever the opposite of a breeding kink is.” You looked away, eyebrows creasing as you thought aloud, “Would it just be a creampie kink? No, ‘cause it turns you on that, there’s no risk of pregnancy. Wait, a birth control kink. You’ve got a birth control kink.” Your gazes meet, a grin on your face looking beyond delighted, as you playfully slap his chest. “I thought I knew all your kinks and fetishes, and look at you keeping me on my toes.” Leaning forward, you kiss him, Joel moaning when you shove your tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own, his hands holding your face, meeting your energy until you both need to breathe and separate. “I feel better knowing you’re happy with what we have because I’m happy, too,” you pant.

“Good,” he replies, smiling. Joel kisses you quickly. “We better get ready,” he says when he pulls back, a grin on his lips. “We got a date with an officiant.”

You’re smiling just as brightly, and it has butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He almost can’t believe this is happening, that you’re here, and in—he looks over at the clock on the bedside table—an hour and a half, you’ll be his wife, something you should’ve been twenty years ago. He’s missed too much time with you and won’t waste any more.

“It’s about damn time,” you reply.

“Don’t I know it.”

It’s obvious you’re both excited with how quickly you’re getting off the bed. Turns are taken in the bathroom, then it’s going through the bag of clothes Tommy had brought over. Neither of you expected to look like a traditional bride and groom; wedding dress stores no longer existed, and there definitely weren’t places to buy a suit. He asked your opinion on what he should wear, settling on a black and charcoal-colored plaid shirt with some dark wash jeans that were a tad tighter than he was used to. You did the same, showing him potential outfits and trying things on before you went with a cream-colored cable knit sweater over a white tank top and some light blue jeans that hugged your hips perfectly, but were too long in the legs, having to bunch them over the top of your boots.

Once dressed, you’d made your way down to the kitchen to eat the breakfast Tommy had left. Sitting at the kitchen table, you’re across from each other, barely coming up for air as the two of you eat your plates of eggs and bacon, the best fucking thing Joel has eaten since the last time he was in Jackson. You’re setting your water down after taking a gulp, a thoughtful expression on your face.

“You know what would’ve made today perfect?” you ask him.

“Hmm?” Joel hums around a bite, his eyes on yours.

“If Sarah were here.”

The sadness hits him like a truck, taking him off balance with how it slams into him.

He swallows his food, setting down his fork, frowning as he looks at you. “I wish she were here, too,” he says sadly.

A small smile appears on your lips. “I’d been so nervous the first time I met her because I didn’t want her to hate me.”

“There’s no way in hell she would’ve hated you.”

“Kids are really protective of their parents, and you’re the only one she had since birth,” you point out. “Then, for the first time in her life, you started dating. The cards were stacked against me—there were a ton of reasons for her to hate me.”

“She, uh—” he scratched at the back of his neck “—was always tellin’ me I needed to find someone, and then I met you and told her about meetin’ you. When our first date went so well, she was beggin’ me to meet you. I’d tell her about you, and she approved. You had nothin’ to worry about.”

“That makes me happy. You know, almost a year in, she said she hoped you’d marry me.”

He smiles. “Oh, she was tryin’ real hard to get me to pop the question—kept suggestin’ romantic places, she even said I should take you to Paris,” he chuckles, “and I’d have to remind her that I was waitin’ for the first year of your residency to end so you wouldn’t be stressed about a weddin’. Then there was the hiccup with you gettin’ fired—”

“Forcibly relocated,” you interrupt.

“Right.” He smiles. “There was the hiccup of you bein’ forcibly relocated and out of work for those few months, just didn’t seem right at the time, which was dumb, I know. So, by the time you’d started makin’ up your time at the clinic, I was done waitin’. I asked Sarah’s permission a week before my birthday, and she’d wanted to help me pick out a ring.” He frowns. “I’d been busy with that job, and well...” He sighs, rubbing a hand through his hair, leaving it unsaid because you two were very aware of what happened. “What I’m tryin’ to say is—” your eyes were on his “—Sarah loved you from the very beginnin’, and she would be so fuckin’ happy that we’re finally gettin’ married.”

You sniffle, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “I miss her so fucking much, Joel.”

His throat was closing up, having to clear it before he could speak. “I miss her, too, baby—every fuckin’ day.” He has to wipe at his eyes, something coming to him suddenly. “Last time I was here in Jackson, Tommy tried givin’ me a picture of her and me—one of the Polaroids that’d been on the fridge.” Sarah had been obsessed with the Polaroid camera you got her for her thirteenth birthday, the refrigerator littered with pictures of her with Joel, you, and Tommy, some a combination of the four of you. “I didn’t take it, couldn’t, not when I was thinkin’ if Ellie stayed with me, she’d end up like her. I didn’t want the reminder.”

There’s sadness on your face. “Oh, babe,” you say, “we’ll have to get it from him. Maybe put together a little memorial for her somewhere in the house.”

“I’d like that.” He nodded. “We could do somthin’ for Hope, too.”

“I’d like that,” you reply softly.

He nods. “We better finish eatin’” He points at your plate. “They’ll be expectin’ us.”

You smile. “Yes, they will.”

It’s a beautiful spring day, the sun shining high above in the clear sky.

It caught him off guard when you took his hand as you exited the house. Normally he wouldn’t want to be without his dominant hand in case he needed to use a weapon, but then your fingers intertwined with his, reminding him of times spent walking around the mall or the park, and the little smile on his face said that he didn’t mind, he actually quite liked it. Hand in hand, the stroll to the House of Worship has you taking in more of the town. It throws him a bit how people smile as they pass or offer quick greetings, it feeling foreign when Joel tries to politely smile back.

“I can’t believe it’s an actual functioning town,” you marvel beside him. “Electricity, water, sewer. I wonder how they found people to get things working again. They’d need engineers, electricians, and plumbers, too. Add in the fact they’re producing enough food to feed hundreds of people, and that’d require people with ample husbandry knowledge. They really got lucky.”

“Probably found people with backgrounds,” he replies. “I did construction, but I know my way around some electrical and plumbin’. Don’t know if I could get a dam workin’—if I had a manual, I’m sure I could figure it out.” He shrugs.

You glance at him. “It’s true you can learn a lot just from reading—don’t need fancy degrees anymore.”

“I reckon you’re a much better doctor than anyone who learned after the outbreak. Your fancy degree still means somthin’.”

“I guess.”

“I know it does, baby,” he says, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

The House of Worship is an old church along the main street, the wooden siding of the building painted a deep red, with the entrance coated in white. It’s traditional looking, with the tall steeple containing a bell and its gabled roof that made the front look like an ‘A.’ The inside had the vaulted ceilings that you’d expect and rows of pews that led to the front where a plain podium stood, no holy symbols anywhere since it was multifaith. The place was empty, the tall windows along the walls letting in light from outside and illuminating everything.

“Five bucks says Tommy’s late,” your voice echoes in the large room, turning your head to look at Joel, his hand still engulfing your own.

“That’s easy money, baby.” He meets your eyes, looking amused.

“Wanna walk me down the aisle?” you ask.

Letting go of your hand, he straightens his back, it aching a little as he offers you his arm with a grin, answering, “Gladly.”

You hook your arm through his. “Ready?” you ask.

“Born ready,” he responds.

It doesn’t feel right that there’s no music, imagining that if this was before the outbreak, you probably would’ve walked down the aisle to the “Bridal Chorus.” Now, though, you’re thinking it needs to be something different, wracking your brain for the perfect song when it hits you, your lips turning up when you both face forward.

As you slowly start walking, you start humming loud enough for Joel to hear. He’s silent for a second, and you know with how much he loves music, he’ll recognize it.

“Etta James?” he asks, glancing at you with a curious expression.

“It felt fitting,” you reply, not feeling any embarrassment when you do your best impression of the singer, singing the opening line of “At Last.”

He huffs out an amused breath.

There’s a reason you studied sciences instead of the arts, and it’s because you’re not very talented in any of them; your singing voice is pretty lousy. Warmth spreads through your body when Joel jumps in on the second verse, sounding a bit rusty as he softly sings with you, making your way down the aisle.

The song isn’t finished when you get to the front of the church, both of you stopping on the same line. There’s a pause where you’re standing in silence, a circular window high above behind the podium showing the blue sky.

There are nerves swirling in your belly, even though you know you have nothing to worry about. Marrying Joel felt so right and was always what you’d wanted, now getting to make your dream come true. You’ve been alone for so long and lost so much in the past that you’re nervous about having people in your life to love and care about again, knowing they could be taken from you in the blink of an eye. You’re not sure how you’d survive if you lost Joel again; hell, it’d fuck you up if something happened to Ellie or even Tommy. These are your people, they’re all you have left, and you can’t worry about the morbid possibilities. You just need to focus on the right now and enjoy what you have, living every day to the fullest.

There’s something else you know without a doubt that Joel is feeling, too, and it’s the sadness weighing on your chest that Sarah is missing today.

Joel clears his throat beside you, his voice rough with emotion when he says, “You know, she’s here with us.”

“I know,” you reply truthfully.

Unhooking his arm from yours, he undoes the button on his left cuff, carefully rolling up the sleeve to his forearm, doing the same with his right. He turns to face you, and you do the same to look him in the eyes, seeing that sadness in the dark depths.

Gently, he grabs your left hand, bringing it up to softly kiss each knuckle, lowering it after a moment, his thumb rubbing over what he kissed. “It’s silly,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “She, uh, fixed this watch and gave it to me as a gift?” He holds up his left arm to show you his favorite watch that had broken, the glass now splintered. “It broke again when she died. The time it stopped on, well…” Your heart squeezes, feeling your eyes burn. “It’s,” the word cracks. He takes a deep breath, trying again, “It’s all I’ve had left of her. I keep it to keep her with me. She’s here.”

You cradle his cheek with your right hand, replying, “She is.” You nod. “She’ll always be with us, Joel.”

The door at the back of the church opens, both of you tensing, and looking toward it, the emotions dispersing as you go on high alert.

“It’s so much bigger than it looks outside,” Ellie’s voice echoes while walking quickly down the center aisle, looking around at everything, a visibly pregnant woman waddling slowly behind her. Ellie’s nose crinkles. “Smells fucking weird.”

“It’s an old buildin’,” the woman replies. “Old buildin’s smell.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Ellie’s finally made it to you, her attention on Joel as you both turn toward her. “Well, you’re not in a wheelchair, so your hips—”

“Are fuckin’ fine,” he grumbles.

The amusement is clear on the young girl’s face.

“Thank god for that,” she says. “Imagine traveling across the fucking country and almost dying multiple times, only to get to your destination where you cripple yourself from not being able to keep it in your pants. That’d be so fucking embarrassing,” she laughs.

“Well, that didn’t happen, so there’s nothin’ for me to be embarrassed about,” he retorts.

“Oh, there’s plenty for your old ass to be embarrassed about, Joel,” she replies. “You couldn’t even make it to the top floor of that building in KC. There was that time you couldn’t find the shit you stashed or, oh my god, how fucking smelly you get—which good on you, cleaning up for Doc.”

He lets out a long sigh, his hands on his hips. “You done?” he asks.

“I’m sure I’ll think of other shit, but for now? Yeah.” She nods.

“Thank you for bein’ here,” he tells her.

“Like I’d fucking miss you assholes getting your happily ever after, or whatever. Plus, I’ve never been to a wedding. Read about them, though. Wanna see what the fuss is all about, you know?”

“This should be pretty straightforward,” you respond, Joel and Ellie looking at you. “Just someone leading the ceremony and us saying vows to each other. Back in ye olden times, some people had crazy long ceremonies with a lot of speeches, but that’s not really us. We’re doing this more traditionally.”

“Yeah,” Joel agrees. “We’re not needin’ no sermons or someone waxin’ poetic about the sanctity of marriage.”

“Weddings sound exhausting,” Ellie replies.

“Oh, they could be,” you say. “Super boring, too.”

The woman spoke up, standing beside Ellie, “Tommy and I just did a small ceremony, like what y’all are doin’ with some close friends, and we exchanged our rings.”

“You must be Maria,” you say, sticking out your hand and introducing yourself, wanting to be cordial. “Most people call me Doc, and it’s kinda stuck.” You shrug as she shakes your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replies, letting go of your hand.

“Are you guys gonna get rings?” Ellie asks, pointing between you and Joel.

“Rings are hard to find…” you answer.

“Not when you live here,” Maria responds, smiling. “We’ve got a smith in town who can make you some—she does it for all newlyweds as a gift.”

Your eyes widen.

“Oh, I’d love a ring,” you say. Looking at Joel, you ask, “Joel?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I’d like one, too. Thank you, ma’am.”

“You can call me Maria, Joel, and there’s no need to thank me,” she says. “It’s Valerie who makes ‘em, and I’ll let her know you’ll be stoppin’ by to get sized.”

“Well, thank you for doin’ that,” he responds.

“You’re welcome, Joel.” She nods.

You can tell Maria doesn’t particularly love Joel, but there’s nothing about how she’s looking at him, speaking to him, or her body language that says she hates him. If anything, it’s more indifference, her coming to terms with him being her brother-in-law and now a part of her life, so she has to make some kind of effort for things not to be awkward. Joel’s doing the same thing. It's almost like they’ve silently agreed that this is how things will be—civil and nothing more.

“Thank you for giving us a place to stay, Maria,” you tell her. “The house is lovely, and Jackson is so wonderful.”

“Y’all are more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like,” she says. “Joel’s family, and you’re about to be family, too. I know Tommy’s excited to have all of you here.”

“Speakin’ of my brother,” Joel cuts in. “Where is he…? And whoever's officiating, for that matter.”

As if on cue, the door to the church opens, and Tommy comes striding in. He’s in jeans, a light blue button-up tucked into them, with the ugliest brown and mustard yellow striped tie around his neck, and a navy blue suit jacket about a size too big for him—he even slicked back his hair. “Sorry, I’m late,” he announces. “Had the worst fuckin’ time findin’ a goddamn tie.”

“Going without one would look better than whatever that abomination is,” you reply, pointing.

He frowns. “This is a tie-wearin’ occasion, so I’m wearin’ one.”

“You didn’t wear a tie when we got married…” Maria says slowly.

“‘Cause I love ya and wouldn’t want you havin’ to look at this eyesore.” He replies, holding up the tie.

“So, you don’t love us?” you ask him. “What are we, chopped liver?”

“Liver and onions ain’t too bad,” he answers. “And, of course, I fuckin’ love y’all, too.”

He makes it to your group, going over to Maria, his hand on her swollen stomach as he kisses her sweetly. “Hey, honey.” He smiles at her, and she grins back. He looks toward you and Joel. “I’ll take it introductions were made? Doc, you met my wife—” He’s rubbing her belly. “—and mother of my kid?”

“Yep,” you answer. “We met.”

“Good. Well, everybody’s here, so we can start.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Joel asks. “Where’s the minister or whoever the fuck you got to do the ceremony?” His arms cross over his chest.

A shit-eating grin appears on Tommy’s face, the one that means he’s up to no good and is about to say something that is going to aggravate Joel. “You’re lookin’ at him.”

Joel’s eyes squint. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he grits out. “You’re not marryin’ us—the towns gotta have someone ordained or somethin’.”

“It just so happens Jackson does: Me.”

“This ain’t funny, Tommy.”

“Remember when you told me you were gonna marry her?” Tommy nods his head toward you.

“Yeah..?”

“Well, I went ahead and got myself ordained to do your weddin’—ain’t no skin off my back. I did it on the computer.” He looks proud of himself.

“What?” Joel sounds like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Why on God’s green earth would you think we’d have you do our weddin’? We probably would’ve had the minister at the church ma, and pop went to do it.”

“That man was older than sin and long dead now.”

“You’re not marryin’ us.”

Tommy matched Joel’s pose, crossing his arms over his own chest and staring his brother down.

“Then I guess you’re not gettin’ married.”

Joel scoffed. “We’re gettin’ married. We can do it ourselves.”

“Joel?” you said, putting your hand on his arm.

He met your eyes, the angry look on his face immediately disappearing. “Yeah, baby?”

“I don’t have a problem with Tommy marrying us. I think it’s sweet he got ordained.” You pointedly look at Tommy, saying in a tone that brokers no argument. “And I know Tommy would be very serious about the whole thing because he knows how important this is to us.”

Tommy’s hands go up in defense. “Hey, now, I’m not takin’ this job lightly,” he says.

Looking back at Joel, you say, “See, he means well, and I kinda like the idea of him doing it. We’ve got our whole family here—him, Ellie, Maria. Why not let him be involved?” You shrug.

He’s frowning, sighing out, “Fine.” He glares at his brother. “Don’t say anythin’ stupid—this is a big day for us. Keep it simple.”

“I can do that.”

“Okay.” Joel nods. His face softens when he looks over at Ellie. “Would you, uh, care to be my best man or woman, as it were?”

Surprise is on her face. “You want me to be your best man?” She points at herself.

“Well, yeah?” He sounds unsure as he keeps talking, eyes darting away, “Or, if you’d rather be the maid of honor, I’m sure Doc would be happy to have ya by her side.”

Ellie makes a face, meeting your eyes. “No offense, Doc, but I’m not feeling, ‘maid of honor.’” Her attention moves back to Joel, grinning. “But best man sounds fucking cool. What do I do?”

Joel’s smiling, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Just gotta stand next to me and be my moral support. Unfortunately, I don’t have a ring for you to hold.”

“That’s fine,” she replies. “I can stand beside you—catch you if you faint, make sure you say your lines, oh! Offer you a handkerchief when you start crying like a baby.”

“You don’t have a handkerchief…”

“Or do I?”

“Do you?”

“Of course not. Where the fuck would I get a handkerchief? My plan if you become a blubbering mess is to just, like, wipe at your face with the sleeves of my sweater.” She holds up her arms to show her maroon zip-up hoodie that’s a little baggy on her.

“I’m not gonna cry…”

There’s a shift, her playful expression melting away, replaced with a soft look showing earnestness and trust, her voice a little quieter like she’s trying not to scare him away, “You know it’s okay if you do, right?” she asks. “I won’t think any less of you, Joel. This whole thing is really fucking exciting, and I’d expect some tears, so don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Okay,” he replies, the word coming out rougher.

“So,” she starts, looking around at the adults. “How is this going down? In the books I’ve read, there’s music and people walking down the aisle and shit.”

Tommy walks around everyone to stand in front of the podium, everyone turning to look at him. “They’ll be over here and stand in front of me, you next to Joel, and I’ll get this show on the road.”

“I’m sitting,” Maria says, taking a seat in the first pew, her hand resting on her belly.

Your head turns toward Joel, him meeting your eyes. “You ready?” he asks.

The nerves you felt earlier had disappeared, and now you’re just excited. Sure, you hadn’t envisioned Tommy Miller doing your wedding ceremony, but you know, without a doubt, he’ll do his best. Even with him being a pain in the ass sometimes, he’s always been a sweetheart who loves his brother dearly—loved his niece a whole lot, too—and he’ll go out of his way to make this special.

You smile, taking his hand. “Let’s get married,” you answer.

He gives you a beaming smile, and quickly you’re moving to where Tommy had indicated, you on his left and Joel on his right.

Ellie pats Joel on the back, hearing her whisper, ‘You got this,’ him twisting a little to say back, ‘Thanks, Ellie.

Tommy pulls out a piece of notebook paper from his back pocket with writing on both sides, unfolding it to read from, and you’re impressed that he put in so much thought. Your hands are in front of you, Joel holding them, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles, him smiling softly.

“Welcome, everyone,” Tommy starts, looking between you all and glancing at his notes. “Now, I’ve been to my fair share of weddings. They were all before everythin’ went to hell, and a lotta them started with how gettin’ married was the beginnin’ of some remarkable journey, yadda yadda yadda, you get the picture. That don’t quite work for Joel and Doc. No, their remarkable journey started in the summer of 2002, and I remember the day they met ‘cause Joel called me askin’ if I could come over the next day to hang out with Sarah since he asked his doctor out on a date—let me just tell y'all, I was confused as all get out ‘cause our doctor was a man in his 60s, with a bad combover, that was happily married, and I was under the impression, Joel was only attracted to women. My brother and I were raised that you love who you love—skin color, gender, none of that shit matters, which was pretty progressive for Texas. So, Joel tellin’ me he was goin’ on a date with his doctor, I thought he was comin’ out to me, and Joel, do you remember what I said?”

Joel snorts, replying, “‘Dr. Carlson’s a great guy. Where ya fellas goin’?”

You remember what Dr. Carlson looked like, which has you laughing hard with everyone else.

“That’s what I said,” Tommy continues, amused. “I was just happy my brother was goin’ on a date, didn’t care who with. He’d corrected me that it was a new doctor, and I’m not jokin’ when I say that Joel jabbered on and on about her for a solid hour, and I knew he had it bad. That was only the beginnin’ and after their first date? I knew he’d found the one.” Tommy looks at Joel. “I apologize for airin’ your personal business—” he went back to addressing everyone “—but Joel had bad luck with women, mostly ‘cause he went out with the wrong ones who didn’t much care for him havin’ a kid. But then he met Doc, who loved him, and his daughter, and I can tell y’all that Sarah—” Emotion is thick in his voice, already feeling tears starting to form in your eyes. “—woulda been happier than a hog in mud that they’re finally gettin’ hitched.” He’s fondly smiling. “I think her exact words would be, ‘Oh, thank god, took ya long enough.’” You and Joel chuckle, a tear falling down your cheek, his eyes watery, knowing he was hearing in his mind her saying those exact words just as you were. “Seein’ these two together,” Tommy kept speaking, “they just make sense. Aside from my wife, and I, I’ve never seen a more perfect couple—they complement and balance each other, and honestly, couldn’t have picked better partners. I only saw their relationship from the outside, but boy, could I feel their love; I can still feel it, and that love is what’s brought them here today. I don’t know that remarkable is the right word to describe their journey to get here—impossible seems more fittin’, and if there’s one thing they’ve shown me, it’s that soulmates exist.” Ellie scoffs, Tommy looking at her with a smile. “I know it’s cheesy, but hear me out. You familiar with Greek mythology?”

“No…?” she answers, and you’re wondering where he’s going with this.

“Myths are stories passed on by people that explain things about the world, like how it was created and such. Pretty much just people makin’ shit up and tellin’ each other until they thought it was true, but there’s this one I heard once about soulmates. It goes that when humans were created by Gods—the Greeks had more than one,” he clarifies, “they had four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. They weren’t fragile like we are now, they were pretty freakin’ powerful, and it made them fearless enough to challenge the Gods, and they sure didn’t care for that, so to take the humans down a peg, they were split into two, and were forced to spend their lives searchin’ for their other half. Sounds kinda familiar, right?” he asks her.

“Holy shit,” she breathes.

“Right? You’ve got these two who had a happy life together and were torn apart. I, uh—” Tommy audibly gulps “—didn’t know if Joel could live without her if I’m honest. They kept searchin’, ‘cause that’s how deep their love goes, just never stoppin’, and it took twenty goddamn years for them to find each other again, but they did—found their other halves, ‘cause they're meant to be together. So, us bein’ in this church today? It’s been a long time comin’ and marks the beginnin’ of a new chapter in their lives—one where they’re back together and finally gettin’ to live as husband and wife.” Tommy looks between you and Joel. “Before we get into it, I gotta thank you both. Even though I was jealous of what you have, it gave me a blueprint for what I wanted in a relationship.” He smiles softly. “Our story isn’t as crazy as yours, but I found it with Maria—she’s my soulmate.”

His wife starts booing from her seat, and everyone erupts in laughter. “This ain’t about us,” Maria teases. “You’re embarrassin’ me.”

“Sorry, honey, was just tellin’ the truth.”

“You can tell it later. Keep goin’.”

“Gotta listen to my wife,” he chuckles, looking at his paper quickly. “Does anyone object to this union? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Do people actually object?” Ellie asks. “What happens if they do?”

“Nothin’,” Joel answers, looking over his shoulder at her. “The person gets kicked out.”

You lean to the side to meet her eyes. “The objection part was for back before there were public records, so if there was a legitimate reason for the couple not to wed, like one of them was already married, someone with the knowledge would object, and the wedding would stop. In modern days, people who objected usually wanted to proclaim their love to the bride or groom.”

“That sounds really fucking awkward.”

“It was.”

You straighten, your attention back on Tommy as he starts speaking, “We are gathered here today to join these two in the union of marriage and celebrate their love. We all know the seriousness of the commitment bein’ entered and recognize that they have a truly special bond. Go ahead and look at each other; you’re gonna wanna remember this.”

Looking into Joel’s eyes, you take in the rich chocolate color and how they’re gleaming with unshed tears. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks, those grey waves of his combed back from his face, and his pouty lips turned up in a happy little smile, him looking so unbelievably handsome. There may be more lines on his face, signs that he’s aged, but staring at him in this moment, he still looks like the man you fell in love with all of those years ago, and you can see him, can perfectly picture that Joel having this same expression on his face.

“And now,” Tommy begins reading from what he’d written, “Joel, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to protect her, to comfort her, to share in the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, and whatever life might throw your way?”

“I do,” he answers so clearly, hearing how much he means the two words, and it makes you sniffle.

Tommy says your name, addressing you, “Do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to protect him, to comfort him, to share in the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, and whatever life might throw your way?”

“I do,” you reply with the same conviction as Joel, and he smiles, a tear falling down his face.

The other man’s attention is on Joel, “Joel, repeat after me, I, Joel Miller, take you—” He says your full name, “—to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and protect always, holdin’ unto you forevermore.”

Joel’s gaze is locked on yours, his voice thick as he repeats what Tommy told him to. Your lip is trembling, feeling so happy you want to cry.

“Doc, repeat after me,” Tommy starts, “I—” He uses your full name, “—take you, Joel Miller, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and protect always, holdin’ unto you forevermore.”

“—take you, Joel Miller, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and protect always, holding unto you forevermore.” He can hear the truth in every word you speak, knowing you mean them all, and it has warmth spreading through his veins, feeling like he might be floating with how happy he is.

You’re on the verge of tears, smiling at him, and looking so beautiful that he’s saving it to memory how you look at this very second, wanting to remember it always.

Tommy’s grinning. “By the power vested in me by some online church, I forgot the name of and the town of Jackson, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” He looks at Joel, clapping his hand on his shoulder. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Joel doesn’t need to be told twice, his hands moving up to cradle your jaw while he moves in, fusing his lips to yours in a searing kiss, ignoring the tears falling down both your cheeks. It’s a little wet, but he puts everything he’s got into kissing his wife for the first time.

His wife. He got you back, and now he’s married to you, and nothing else has felt more right in the world. You’re his wife.

He’s deepening the kiss, wanting you to feel his love, his happiness, his devotion, that the vows you made to each other are the real deal, and he meant every single one—he will live as your husband until the end of his days, following you even in death, loving you forever, doing everything he can to honor you, protecting you with his life, being there when you need comfort, happy to share whatever good times await you and be with you through the bad, knowing he’ll never leave your side in sickness and in health, and that you’re stuck with him no matter what life throws in your way, because like Tommy said, you’re meant to be together—went through literal hell to find each other, and he never wants to lose you again.

There might be some credence to the stuff his brother said about soulmates. When Joel lost you, it felt like he’d lost a chunk of himself, and having you back has filled that void.

“Is the kiss supposed last this long?” Ellie whispers to Tommy. “It’s like he’s eating her face.”

You must hear her with how you snort, breaking the kiss so you can giggle, Joel sighing, Tommy and Maria laughing.

“Sorry,” you apologize to him.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about,” he replies, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

“Let’s all hit the bar to celebrate,” Tommy says.

Joel nods at his brother, who starts walking over to his pregnant wife to help her up from her seat.

It just seems like the natural thing, Joel taking your hand as you both turn around toward the door, his attention moving to Ellie beside him.

“What’d ya think?” he asks her.

She smiles. “Disgustingly sappy, but I liked it. That soulmate shit was cool. I gotta do my best man duties—can you get down a little? You’re too fucking tall.”

Confused by her request, his eyebrows crease, but he slightly bends his knees. Ellie covers her hand with her maroon sleeve, pressing it to his left cheek, and it feels like his throat is going to close up that she’s wiping away the tear tracks. Her tongue is peeking out in concentration as she gets one cheek, then the other, giving him a once over and moving her head to get different angles, ensuring she gets all the wetness.

“Done!” she says, her arm dropping to her side. “How’s Doc’s face? Does she need me to help her out, too?”

He stands to his full height, his head swiveling your way and finding you’ve used your own sleeve to clean your face.

You lean past him to look at her. “I’m good, Ellie,” you reply with a smile. “Thank you, though.”

“No problem.”

The young girl is next to him as you leave the church, Tommy and Maria leading. His brother has an arm around his wife’s waist as they walk, and Joel’s holding your hand.

“So,” Ellie begins. “If we’re going to the bar, does that mean I get to have a celebratory drink, too..?”

“No,” all four of the adults say simultaneously.

“Geez, you guys are no fun.”

“There’s juice for you and me,” Maria replies, looking over her shoulder at the teen.

“Great,” Ellie grumbles, and it makes Joel smile.

The bar is how he remembers it from the last time he was here, except the mood is lighter this go around, and the place is just as empty as before.

“Holy shit!” Ellie exclaims, beelining for a corner. “Mortal Kombat?!”

He remembers how excited she’d been seeing the old arcade game when they’d stopped on their way to Bill and Frank’s. She said her friend knew everything about it, and Ellie seemed to love the character Mileena. She’s pressing the buttons and jerking the joystick. “Does it work?” she twists her body to ask.

You and Joel are standing with her while Tommy goes behind the bar, Maria taking a seat at a table near her husband.

“No,” Tommy replies, frowning. “Sorry, kid. We tried gettin’ it to run, but somethin’ in its fried. The jukebox works, though.” He points to the opposite corner where the machine sits. It was one from the 80s modeled after jukeboxes from the forties and fifties but updated to play CDs, with colorful lights glowing on the front. “There should be quarters in the bucket on that table by it.”

Ellie immediately went to it, the arcade game forgotten, hearing her clicking the button to flip through the track listings. The two of you headed for the bar, Tommy having set five glasses onto the bartop and was currently using an ice pick to break ice from a block.

“Tommy?” Maria calls.

“Yes, dear?” he answers, putting ice into each cup.

“Can you show ‘em what we got?”

“Yeah.” Tommy moves a few steps away to grab something, then sets it up next to the glasses.

On a plate sits a small round cake covered in white icing.

His brother is smiling. “She says ‘we,’ but it was really her,” Tommy confides in you both. “An olive branch, if you will.”

You’re turning to tell Maria, “Thank you. This was very thoughtful of you.”

The other woman waves away your words, replying, “It was nothin’. Can’t have a weddin’ without cake.”

“Well, thank you. We appreciate it.” You’re hugging Joel’s arm, looking up at him. “Right, Joel? We appreciate it very much.”

“That we do,” he responds, his head moving to look at the other woman. “Thank you, Maria.”

“You’re welcome, Joel.” She nods.

He doesn’t think they’ll ever be best friends, but she’s been friendlier this time around.

“I’ve never heard this song,” Ellie’s voice is loud as she speaks. “But based on the title, I’m pretty sure it’s how Joel feels about Doc.”

“What song?” he asks, both of you turning in place, looking in her direction.

“Gimme a second. I’m trying to figure out how to work this fuckin’ thing.” There’s the sound of her struggling, and before he can go help her, you’re already heading her way.

There’s a pull for him to walk over there, too, and he has to fight it to stay back, resting his side against the bartop with his arms crossed, watching from afar.

He glances at his brother to see him pouring drinks, putting what looks to be apple juice in two of them.

His attention goes back to you and Ellie, her pointing at what he assumes is a song, which makes you laugh, and him frown because he’s dying to know which one it is.

“You’re right on the money, squirt,” you tell Ellie as you show her how to use the jukebox.

A second later, the opening to “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” by The Police starts playing, Joel snorting and shaking his head as the lyrics run through his head, seeing how they are pretty accurate—every little thing you do is magic, and you’re always turning him on.

Something inside him soothes when you beckon him over, Joel quickly walking across the bar.

He’s in front of you, and you lean in so your lips are close to his ear, asking in a whisper for only him to hear, “Is your back okay?”

You’re pulling back, searching his face. His back isn’t bothering him at the moment, and he’s able to move around fine. “Yeah,” he answers.

A toothy smile appears on your face. “Dance with me, then,” you say. “Please.”

There’s an empty space in front of the jukebox that you’re standing in that must’ve been used as a small dancefloor. He feels heat licking up his neck because he hasn’t danced in years, and there’s an audience—Ellie watching off to the side with an amused look, Tommy with a matching expression over at the bar.

“Yeah, Joel,” Ellie ribs. “Dance with her.”

“Remember, Joel,” Tommy yells. “Happy wife, happy life!”

He sighs, gulping at your hopeful expression, not wanting to disappoint you. “Apologies in advance if I step on your toes, ma’am,” he says as he pulls you into his arms—a hand around your waist, the other holding your hand, while you’re grabbing his shoulder. He goes the safe route, starting to move you both in a swaying shuffle, you grinning at him with stars in your eyes that make his heart pick up in speed.

It’s not really a slow-dancing song. It’s too upbeat and moves too quickly. His heart is in his throat when the steps come back to him as if he’s riding a bicycle, you laughing softly when he begins leading you in quicker movements around the small space. He’s smiling at your glee when he throws in a spin here and there, knowing it amuses you, always pulling you back into his arms.

Ellie is standing by the jukebox with an expression on her face like she can’t believe what she’s seeing but is delighted by it anyway.

It’s reminding him of going out with you to the bar in Austin that did live music, having a few drinks, and you pulling him onto the dancefloor with the rest of the couples. With how happy you look, he thinks you’re remembering the same thing, the both of you just letting loose and having fun.

Fun.

When was the last time he got to have carefree fun like this? Sure, he and Ellie had some fun on the road, but he was always on alert and couldn’t let his guard down. Christ, he sure as hell wasn’t having any fun before the teenager came into his life.

That means the last time he got to enjoy himself like this was on his birthday, watching his favorite movie with Sarah while waiting for you to get off work. He hadn’t found it odd you were working at such a late hour that night since your clinic in the big city was open twenty-four hours, and there were times it was so busy you couldn’t call him until the end of your shift.

And here he is, having the best time dancing with you.

He’s taken aback by how normal this all feels. He woke up that morning with you beside him, in the new house you share, got married in a church, and is now celebrating in a bar with a cake, having drinks, and dancing to music as if outside the town walls, there isn’t desolation and unimaginable horrors.

How long can Jackson remain being this little oasis amongst the apocalyptic hellscape? How much time will he get in this bliss? Too many things have happened to him to think this will last—it’s too good to be true.

The song comes to an end, and he lowers you in a dip, causing you to giggle while Ellie claps.

Pulling you back up, you grab his face and kiss him, Joel losing himself in the sensation of your lips on his, feeling you smiling.

He focuses on you in his arms and your mouth on his, grounding him and pulling him from the darkness of his thoughts, giving him hope.

Joel will do whatever he can to help keep this town safe. It’s a new beginning for the three of you; Ellie can have a somewhat normal life and get to be a kid, you can relax, and the two of you can settle down together, hopefully living out the rest of your many years here.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” you say when you pull back, taking him from his thoughts.

“Any time,” he replies, smiling.

There’s a possibility you might explode from how happy you are.

You’re married to Joel. He’s your husband.

Staring into those big brown eyes of his, a sweet smile on his lips, you start speaking, “I need you to do something for me.”

His eyebrows dip together. “Anythin’,” he responds, rubbing his big hands over your arms.

“I need you to pinch me—I’ve gotta make sure I’m not dreaming and you’re really here with me.”

The expression on his face melts into something soft. His hand dips down to pinch your hip, his other one caressing the side of your face. “There,” he says. “Believe I’m here now, baby?”

Tears spring to your eyes, grinning as you crash your mouth to his, kissing him desperately, your hands wrapping around his neck.

“I suddenly want juice,” Ellie announces to no one in particular. “So, I’m gonna go get some, so I don’t have to see this. Seriously, guys. Gross.”

Her comment has you breaking apart from Joel, giggling as you face her.

“Sorry, Ellie,” you tell her, seeing her face pinched in disgust. “We did warn you about the excessive PDA.”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Still gross. I mean, who wants to see their… their… their.”

“Dad?” you finish for her.

“He’s not my dad.” It’s said almost like a reflex, and you can see fear in her eyes.

She’s like a wounded animal, and you’re going to need to be careful. You close the distance slowly; it’s only a couple of steps.

Joel’s moved beside you, and you’re surprised when he speaks, his voice low so only the three of you can hear. “It’s okay,” he says, her gaze on him. It takes him a second to figure out his next words, and he looks away with his hands perched on his hips. “That shit I said last time we were here? I was lyin’.” He sighs. “Thought if I said it out loud, it’d be true.” He meets her eyes. “You can, uh, call me whatever you’d like—caretaker, guardian, ward, Dad. ‘Cause—” he audibly swallows. “—I think of you as my kid,” he says softly. “You’re not cargo. Never were. You’re family. My family.”

“You’re my family, too.” Her voice is quiet, looking hopeful. “Feels weird calling you, Dad, though—” She points at him “—you’re Joel.”

He smiles. “Then keep callin’ me, Joel,” he reassures. “If people ask, can I say you’re my…?”

“Daughter?” she finishes for him, smiling. “Sure.” Ellie shrugs. “And you’re my father, but—” She looks around like she’s making sure no one is listening, saying conspiratorially, “—I’m pretty sure I’m adopted.”

He snorts. “That was stupid.”

She grins. “I thought it was pretty funny, Dad.” She makes a face. “Oh, yeah, that’s fucking weird—no offense,” she adds quickly.

“None taken.”

Her eyes dart away. “I’m glad you brought me here,” she says. “And that I’ve got you—both of you now.”

“Yeah, I’m happy you’re here, too, and Ellie?”

“Yeah, Joel?” They look at each other.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Okay?”

“Okay.” She nods. “That juice sure sounds good,” she says a bit louder, making you smile because Joel hadn’t been lying that they’re both terrible at expressing their feelings to one another.

“Let’s go, kid,” he replies.

She’s already moving toward the bar, and you take his hand, both of you mosying your way over.

“Congratulations, Joel,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“It’s a fourteen-year-old girl.”

He chuckles. “What can I say?” he whispers back. “I’m a girl Dad.”

“Yes, you are.”

Taking seats at the bartop, Joel is between you and Ellie, Tommy placing drinks in front of each of you before walking out from behind the bar to take Maria her juice, holding his own glass.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Joel Miller!” Tommy toasts.

Everyone raises their glasses before taking a drink.

It’s whiskey—actual facts whiskey, and not moonshine, it sliding down your throat smoothly, relishing the burn. This was quality shit from before the outbreak that was extremely hard to find.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, staring at the glass. “This is the real fucking deal.”

“We save it for special occasions,” Tommy replies. “But we also have shit we’ve made.”

“Thank you for letting us have some,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I haven’t had a decent drink in years.”

“You’re welcome, Doc.” He holds his cup up to you.

Joel sets his glass down, you taking another drink.

His arm goes around your waist, his other hand scratching at the back of his neck, and you can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say.

He keeps his eyes forward. “I just wanna thank y’all for makin’ today real special for us,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear. “It means a lot to us havin’ ya here.”

“Psh—” Ellie playfully punches his arm. “—like I’d miss my chance at seeing you so happy it makes you cry, and I wasn’t disappointed.”

“Yeah…”

“We ain’t done celebratin’!” Tommy exclaims. “There are gifts.”

You and Joel are turning in your seats to look at his brother.

“What are you talking about?” you ask. “You’ve done more than enough. The house, the beautiful ceremony, the cake, this booze. We can’t accept anything else.”

“Yeah, Tommy,” Joel adds. “We don’t need anythin’ else.”

“Oh, quit it,” he replies, walking back behind the bar. “Let us spoil ya today. You sure as fuck deserve it.” He’s leaning down to grab something behind the bar and coming back up, keeping his hands low so you can’t see what he’s got. “This first gift is from Maria and me.”

“Why are you lyin’ to them?” his wife asks. “That gift is all you—I got the cake.”

“‘Cause we’re married.” He sounds exasperated.

“That one’s too damn special, it’s solely from Tommy, and I had nothin’ to do with it.”

He sighs.

“This first gift is from me,” he says, the last word a little louder. “And only me.”

“We read you loud and clear,” you reply. “I am dying to know what it is.”

He looks a little unsure as he speaks, “Well, now that y’all are here together, I’m hopin’ you’ll want them.” Two Polaroid pictures are placed between you and Joel, both having faded a little over time, your breath catching in your throat, covering your mouth with a hand.

The first one is of Joel and Sarah making silly faces at the camera—him with his hair still brown and his face less worn from age. You’ve worried that over time your memory of what Sarah looks like had decayed, but here she is with her dad’s eyes, her beautiful smile, and her head full of curly hair, just as you remember.

You’re reaching out to touch the second photo of the three of you on her fourteenth birthday at Joel’s house. You’ve got your arms around her, Sarah resting her head on your shoulder, Joel hugging you both from behind, all three of you smiling at the camera.

“I, uh, told Joel this last time I saw him,” Tommy starts. “But I went back to the house some years ago. Place was picked clean—found those, though.” He points at them. “Kept one of her and me—hope that’s alright.”

Joel’s voice is thicker from emotion, “Of course it’s alright,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you, Tommy,” you add.

“You’re welcome.”

“Look at her,” you murmur.

“Just like I remember,” he whispers. “God, I miss that smile.”

“I do, too.”

“Can I see this one?” he asks, pointing at the one with the three of you.

“Yeah.” You move your hand to pick up the other, him taking the one he wanted gingerly between his fingers.

He stares at it for a second before showing it to Ellie. “This is Sarah,” he says to her. “My other daughter. I just know she would’ve liked you. Not that I think you’re the same. Definitely different kids, but still mine.”

“How are we different?” she asks.

“Well, she was a lot more, I wanna say girly?” He’s quickly adding, “And I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly...”

She snorts. “I’m not.”

Joel smiles crookedly, “Yeah, you’re not. So that. She was taller. She had that killer smile.” His eyes widen, worry on his face, speaking fast, “Again, not sayin’ you don’t...”

“Chill out, Joel,” she laughs, him visibly relaxing. “She did have a killer smile. You really think she’d like me?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “You’d get on like a house on fire. She would’ve liked you ‘cause you’re funny. I think you would’ve made her laugh,” he answers thoughtfully. “The two of you love music—she had a small CD collection she would’ve liked showin’ you. And I know together you would’ve had too much fuckin’ fun givin’ me shit. Can picture you gangin’ up on me,” he chuckles. “She would’ve liked you a whole helluva a lot, and I bet you would’ve liked her back.”

“Yeah, I think I would’ve,” she replies. “Sarah sounds really fucking cool.”

He’s softly smiling, looking at the picture. “Yeah, she was the coolest.” His head swivels in her direction, “Not sayin’ you’re not cool—you’re really fuckin’ cool, too. The two of you are way cooler than me.”

She’s laughing. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” she says. “It’s okay, and it doesn’t take much to be cooler than your old ass.”

“Yeah,” Tommy speaks up, Joel and Ellie looking at him, smirking. “Sarah would’ve found you hilarious, and y’all would’ve had a blast terrorizin’ the fuck outta this asshole.” He nods his head toward Joel.

“God, Joel’s right,” you add. “They would’ve ganged up on him, just a constant Joel roast.”

“It’s already a constant Joel roast…” Joel grumbles.

Rubbing his arm, you reply, “But it’s done affectionately.”

“I guess,” he sighs.

“There’s one more gift for ya,” Tommy says.

You’re staring him down, telling him, “Tommy, the pictures are more than enough—way more than enough. We can’t accept anything else. We won’t.” You shake your head.

“She’s right,” Joel cuts in. “You’ve given us too much. There’s no fuckin’ way we can ever repay you.”

“This gift isn’t from me,” Tommy responds with a little smile. “It ain’t from Maria either.”

“Then who’s it from?” Joel asks, confusion on his face.

You’re wondering the same thing. There’s no one else in Jackson you know.

“Ellie.” He points at her, both of you turning your heads to look at her, you having to lean around Joel.

“Hey.” She puts up her hands in defense. “Tommy helped!” She points at him. “Told me I could pick out a gift for you guys, and we went around to a bunch of places last night looking at shit, and I saw something I thought you might like, but it’s probably super fucking lame, so if you wanna trade it, go for it. I have no fucking clue what to get people when they get married.”

“Hey, don’t stress,” you reply, giving her a reassuring smile. “We’re gonna love it.”

“Yeah.” Joel smiles, knocking his shoulder against hers. “We’ll love anythin’ you got us.”

She looks unsure. “I hope so.”

“What’d you get us?” you ask.

Her attention moves to Tommy.

“Is it back there?” she asks him.

“Yep,” he answers.

Ellie jumps off her barstool, walking around the bar, to lean down and grab something that seems big, but you can’t see since it’s so low, her moving back toward you both.

When she’s in sight, your eyes go wide, realizing it’s a black hardshell guitar case.

There’s pink on her cheeks, holding it out to Joel, looking down at her feet. “When, um, we were on our way to Salt Lake City, you, um, said you wanted to find a guitar?” she says it as a question. “Said you hadn’t played in forever and that you’d teach me. Which you don’t have to,” she quickly adds. “But, um, I figured if you used to play, you probably played for Doc and Sarah, and she’d maybe wanna hear you again, so a guitar, for your wedding or whatever.”

“It’s perfect,” he chokes out, and you can see his eyes glistening as he gently takes it from her. “Thank you, Ellie. I, uh, didn’t think you’d remember all that.”

She meets his eyes. “I do. Remember a lot of it. So, there you go.” She’s wringing her hands in front of her, Joel carefully setting the guitar against the bar and getting up from his chair to stand in front of her.

“Would it be alright if I hugged you?” he asks softly.

“Sure.”

He’s slow in his movements, not going too quick as he wraps his arms around her, one behind her back, the other hand cradling the back of her head, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Her own arms go around his middle, his chin nestled atop her hair.

A father holding his last living child, a daughter being held by the only parent she’s known, a comfort they’ve both needed and something to cherish.

“Thank you, baby girl,” he whispers.

This seems like a private moment, averting your eyes, Tommy doing the same.

“I’m happy you’re, uh, better,” he continues.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” she says just as softly.

“Never in a million years, I… care about you too damn much.”

“I care about you, too.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

They stay like that for seconds longer before separating, his hands on her shoulders.

“I think I promised I’d sing for you,” he tells her with a warm smile. “I apologize if I’m a bit rusty.”

“I didn’t save the world.”

“There’s still time, kiddo.” He moves back over to the black case to open it up, pulling out the mahogany acoustic guitar, its sides stained black, him admiring it. “Well, isn’t she a beauty.”

“You gonna play the thing or take it out on a date?” Ellie asks, making you giggle.

Joel’s eyes narrow at her, him moving to sit on the barstool with the guitar resting on his thighs.

“Gimme a second,” he replies, strumming his fingers over the strings, it clearly out of tune. “I gotta fix it.” His eyebrows are creased in concentration as he turns each peg to adjust the pitch of the strings until he’s satisfied, nodding his head when he strums, and it sounds right.

He’s not playing any particular song, just reacquainting himself with the chords, doing little melodies to get back into it.

Tommy walks out from behind the bar to go sit next to Maria at her little table, his arm over the back of her chair, while nursing his drink with his other hand, both of them watching Joel in interest.

Since Joel was a child, he’s been passionate about music. By the time he turned seven, he was playing guitar, and as an adult, he was so good that he only needed to hear a song once to know how to play it.

“Promise me you won’t laugh,” he says to Ellie while still playing.

She’s smiling, replying, “I won’t.”

He gives her a look.

“I won’t, I promise,” she says.

He nods his head.

“I’m trustin’ you.”

It makes sense that only after some minutes, he seems to have the hang of it, things sounding smoother, and you grin when he moves into a familiar tune—the steady rhythm with the twang as he plucks the strings, excitement bubbling in your belly over what was about to happen.

He’s focused on the guitar, his voice a deep, throaty rasp, as he starts crooning the beginning of “Stand by Me” by Ben E. King.

Tears are back in your eyes, feeling emotional that he’s playing your song.

This was the first song he’d ever played for you all those years ago, the song you’d ask him to play again and again because of how much you loved it, the song you thought would play while you shared your first dance after saying ‘I do,’ the song you could imagine him singing to your children.

And here he is, playing the guitar for the first time in over twenty years, and this is the song he’s chosen to sing, knowing how much it’d mean to you.

Joel Miller is the love of your life, has always been the love of your life, and now you get to call him your husband.

She’s honestly surprised that he’s not bad—kind of reminds her of the singer from Pearl Jam, but, like, if he were Texan and his voice was a bit deeper.

God, she misses her Walkman so fucking much, she’d kill to hear “Take on Me” again. Wait, maybe Joel knows it, and he could play it for her. She’ll have to ask him when he finishes with this song.

It’s crazy to her that this time last year, she’d been in FEDRA school, getting up to shit with Riley, and now she’s across the country, in a small town that fucking works with her—Jesus, it’s even fucking weird to think about calling him her Dad—Joel, he’s her Joel, it’ll take some time to ease into the name change. Anyways, she’s now here with Joel and Doc, who’s honestly a great addition to their team.

If anyone deserves to be reunited with their one true love like he’s living a fucking fairytale, it’s Joel, and Ellie is so fucking relieved that Doc is actually pretty great; she’s more than pretty great, actually. Doc is fucking awesome and has always been honest with her, so she knows that when Doc told her she’d try to figure out a cure, she was telling the truth, and that gives Ellie hope that she might actually get a chance at saving the world after all.

Everything she’s gone through, all of the people who’ve died for her, it all needs to fucking mean something. It has to.

Ellie’s happy for Joel and Doc, she really is, and she’ll never admit it out loud, but she’s scared. Not that, like, Joel will forget about her now that he has a wife. No, they care about her too much, and that’s what scares her.

For the first time in her entire fucking life, she has a family—Joel, Doc, even Tommy, and Maria—she has people who give a shit about her and love her. Joel wants her to call him ‘Dad,’ he thinks of himself as her father, and she sees herself as his daughter, and now there’s Doc, too, who’s so warm and comforting, and fuck, what if something happens to them? What if she loses them like she’s lost every other person who’s ever given a fuck about her? This time last year, she had Riley, and now Riley’s dead, and not only that, but Ellie’s the one that had to kill her.

A year and so much has changed.

What if she loses all of this?

She told Sam she’s afraid of ending up alone, but really she’s frightened of outliving the people who care about her, and now there are so many.

She just has to remind herself that Joel is the strongest man on the entire fucking planet. He got her across the country, basically came back from the dead, and took out a hospital full of Fireflies—they’re not in danger here in Jackson, and if they were? Joel will keep her and Doc safe, she’s positive about that, and Ellie will help, she can hold her own, and she’s not going to let anyone else die for her.

They’re safe.

Everything is going to be okay. Joel will make sure of it.

The song finishes, and he sighs, not looking at her as he asks, “Well?”

“Well, that didn’t suck,” she replies, smiling. “I’m honestly impressed ‘cause I figured you’d be fucking terrible, but you weren’t. You were pretty good.”

He looks at her with big eyes and a little smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nods her head.

“You still got it, babe,” Doc says.

He turns to look at her with a grin. “Yeah?” he asks her.

“Yep.” She smiles back. “You had me swooning—you know how much I love that song.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replies in a different tone that has Ellie making a face.

Jesus, they’re so gross, and now they’re kissing—of course, they are. She’s pretty sure they can’t go five fucking minutes without their lips locked.

Her attention moves to Tommy and Maria, who aren’t much better sitting close together fucking canoodling.

Disgusting.

She’s got the ick.

“Cake sure sounds really fucking good right about now,” she says loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Hell yeah, it does,” Tommy replies, getting up from his chair. “I’ve got plates and shit.” He’s walking back behind the bar.

Joel and Doc have unlocked their lips, thank god.

“Joel?” she asks.

He meets her eyes. “Yeah?”

“This is probably a long fucking shot, but there’s this band I loved called A-ha? Listened to the tape on my Walkman all the time, and they had this song called “Take On Me.” Do you know it?”

He smiles. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

He’s already playing the beginning, the familiar melody making Ellie smile so big she thinks her cheeks are gonna hurt.

Yeah, everything is gonna be okay, and her life has never been better.

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hier--soir · 1 year

Text

under the night | six

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] language, being held captive, angst, serious violence, torture, injury, blood, discussions of murder, threat of sexual assault [DOES NOT HAPPEN], very brief discussion of religion/the bible, idk if you think i missed anything please let me know word count: 6k part five | series masterlist | main masterlist

Clink, clink.

Maria was drinking a cup of earl grey tea. The bergamot has a calming effect, she’d said, would you like a cup? Her spoon swirled in the teacup, bumping against the china every so often as she mixed in a sugar cube. The cup was pretty, a cream colour with pale pink gerbera flowers painted along the porcelain. Clink, clink; the spoon knocked the side of it again, the woman still unsatisfied by the granules of sugar visible in the dark liquid. It was the only sound in the room, bar the soft pattering of rain on the roof, as the four of them sat silently around Maria and Tommy’s dinner table.

Joel huffed in frustration as she finally lifted the spoon from the liquid and placed it gingerly on the saucer, before raising the cup to her mouth and taking her first sip. She sighed happily, relaxing in her chair as she savoured the taste.

“Okay,” she murmured, looking around the table.

“Oh, we can talk now?” Joel snapped, his exhaustion getting the better of him. “You’ve got your fuckin’ tea and now you’re ready?”

“Joel,” Tommy warned his brother quietly. “We’re all on the same side here.”

“Well, she could’ve fuckin’ fooled me,” he said spitefully in the woman’s direction. “It’s been days, and you haven’t ordered any searches, haven’t questioned anyone.”

Maria raised her hand to stop him, “It’s a delicate situation.”

“No, Joel’s right,” Cal spoke up. The bags under his eyes were heavy, hair greasy and slicked back off his forehead; the appearance of a man who hadn’t slept in days. “You run things here, and I always thought you did a damn good job of it too. But she’s gone missing, and you’re just sitting back and waiting? For what?”

“Things are returning to normal here,” she said lowly. “People are calming down, and I don’t want to raise any alarm bells if I don’t need to.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Joel all but snarled.

“It means that I wouldn’t be surprised if she chose to leave,” she levelled at him, one eyebrow raised accusatorially. Clink, clink. He flinched as she dipped her spoon back into the cup, tapping it against the rim. “Ellie told me.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, his hand forming a fist below the table. “Told you what exactly?”

Maria gave him a conspiratorial look. “She told me about being strangled, Joel. She came here a few days ago, upset after hearing the news, and we talked. Ellie worries that she might have left out of guilt… and I must admit, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were true.”

“Wait,” Cal’s eyebrows raised in alarm, eyes darting between Maria and Joel. “What the fuck are you talki-“

“No one was fuckin’ strangled,” Joel ground out, doing his best to stay calm. “Ellie wasn’t hurt. And she wouldn’t fuckin’ leave us; there’s no god damn way she’d even think to go outside those gates alone.”

Joel’s mouth twisted into a pained grimace at Maria’s insinuation, shaking his head jerkily. The last conversation he’d had with you played on his head in a constant loop, the image of your face distorted in despair, the feeling of your guilty tears on his neck – it tormented him. Kept him awake all night, and on edge all day. The idea that you might have decided to leave, out of a misplaced sense of guilt, or fear, or… or because of something he’d said. His chest tightened at the thought. He’d told you not to stay at the house if he wasn’t there, hadn’t he? That’s why you’d gone home alone that night, instead of coming back to him. It won’t happen again, is what you said. Joel mulled the words over in his mind endlessly, searching for a hidden meaning in your tone that he might have missed; a plan to leave him.

Tommy watched the three of them silently, the corners of his mouth downturned in dismay. To see Joel be so distraught was hard for him. Ellie had confided in Tommy that Joel had hardly spoken for the past three days. That he wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating. She kept a close eye on him and didn’t pry; simply sat quietly in whatever room he resided in, and just kept a watchful eye on him. Tommy couldn’t thank her enough for it. He’d watched his brother experience so much loss, so much heartache, and he cringed to realise they were witnessing it happen to him all over again.

“She wouldn’t leave me,” Cal broke the silence, his voice cracking on the last word. He reached up hastily to wipe the corner of his eye. “We made an agreement when we first got here. If either one of us decides we aren’t happy, then we leave – together. No questions asked. She wouldn’t break a promise.”

Joel glanced at the younger man, absorbing his words with a blank expression. It still unnerved him sometimes; to gain further insights into the tightknit bond between you and Cal, but he pushed all negative feelings down, knowing the he was right.

“She’s still in Jackson,” Joel said with a tone of finality, straightening his shoulders.

“So what do you suggest we do?” Maria asked. “I’ve already asked so much of our community, I don’t know where I’m supposed to go from here.”

“Some fuckin’ community it is,” he muttered. “Women gettin’ stolen out of their god damn homes.”

Tommy gave him a look that said, not helpful. Joel ignored him.

“We question them – all of them,” he asserted. “Ransack every fuckin’ house in this town if we have to. She’s here somewhere – whoever’s doin’ this can’t keep her hidden for long.”

Maria nodded slowly, sparing a short glance in her husband’s direction. “We’ll question people then. If we go to the right ones, someone is bound to spill something.”

Tommy stared at his brother, taking in the way he stared intensely at the woman. “You can’t be a part of it though,” he said softly. Joel’s head snapped in his direction, eyes narrowing.

“Tommy,” he glared, only to be quickly interrupted.

“You’re too high strung, both of you are,” Tommy said, glancing between Joel and Cal. “If you’re out there knockin’ down doors, you’re just gonna scare people off, and somebody will get hurt. We can’t risk you two causing a scene.”

“We can’t just sit around and do nothing,” Cal grunted, hand smacking down on the table.

“You won’t be,” Maria said firmly. “Someone needs to be waiting if she shows up. So wait. If she shows up at either of your homes, you’ll be there.”

“You’re fuckin’ delusional if you thin-“

“Stop,” Maria interrupted softly. “Have either of you taken a moment to consider it might already be too late? It’s been three days… Do you really want to be the ones to find her if she’s…. I’m trying to keep you both separated from this, for your sakes.”

“I’m not fuckin’ listenin’ to this,” Joel grunted, pushing his chair from the table and stalking towards the front door. With his hand gripping the doorknob, he turned his head to the side, staring back at them from the corner of a tear-filled eye.

“She is out there somewhere, alive, puttin’ up a goddamn fight. And when I find her,” he spoke with his back to them, voice dangerously quiet. “I’m going to kill everyone who had anything to do with this. And you two won’t be able to stop me.”

Joel didn’t need to look at him to know that Cal agreed.

The curtains were always the first thing you saw. When your eyelids managed to crack open, to break through the dried blood that crusted over your eyelashes, you would always notice them first. Large, bundled drapes that reached the floor, covering the walls, concealing the windows and any potential natural light. It was so dark all of the time, and so time had lost meaning. You couldn’t tell how many hours, or days, had passed. All you knew was that the curtains, made from a dark fabric, with pictures of small birds sewn onto them, were the first thing you saw every time you opened your eyes.

Sparrows, the thought whispered through your mind. Little sparrows sewn into the curtains.

A small metal table was positioned in the corner opposite to where you laid on a thin mattress, arms tied to a pipe protruding from the wall. Sometimes your eyes flickered to it, trying to glean what was on it, but it was futile because of the distance. Candles were placed sporadically around the edges of the room, providing a vague yellow light to the space which allowed you see these things. But no natural light meant not knowing when the sun rose and fell., so you learned to rely on a different schedule. Twice a day he would bring a meal into the room, and you did your best to note the time passing, but even that provided little relief. Dehydration and pain had you dropping in and out of consciousness, and you rejoiced in the respite that sleep brought. Sleep brought quiet. Waking, however, brought with it a stark reminder of where you were.

An unpleasant stretching sensation resided in your arms. The muscles burned from hyperextension from constantly stretching behind you to the wall, your hands numb from a lack of blood flow due to how taught the rope around your wrist was pulled. But no matter how uncomfortable, you never turned your back to the door. That way he couldn’t enter the room without you seeing him immediately.

The throbbing in your foot, and the smell of metal was always what you noticed next. Blood stained the lower half of the mattress, and you did your best not to look down. But the smell was overwhelming, and you knew you had to see how much blood you’d lost. Your right foot was caked in dried blood, and the sight of one of your toes missing was enough to make your stomach curl every time, as waves of violent nausea rolled through you.

“That’s fine,” you whispered hoarsely, attempting to convince yourself. “Never used that one anyway, can live without it.”

Talking to yourself helped. Although your thoughts were often delirious and half-baked, hearing your own voice out loud brought a certain sense of calm.

And you’d formed a routine. Where every time you woke, you calmed your breathing, and forced yourself to decide how you were going to behave. How to survive another encounter with him. You’d chosen violence the first time, and you came to sorely regret it.

He’d been watching you that first day; waiting for you to stir. It had been dark, but you still saw him instantly. Cross-legged on the floor beside the mattress you laid on, dark beady eyes bearing down on your skin like weights. The itchy burn of rope against your wrists wasn’t as noticeable at first, for you were distracted by the thick wad of material in your mouth, placed there to keep you silent. When your brain had fully woken up, you’d glared at him in a wide-eyed panic, moaning urgently against the cloth between your teeth, tears brimming in your eyes. No, no, no, no.

“Shh,” Lincoln had murmured, brushing the hair out of your eyes. “It’s okay, shh.”

Tentatively, he reached down and tugged the cloth out of your mouth. You sucked in sharp panicked breaths, staring up at him as the feeling of white-hot terror spread through your veins, all the way from your neck down to your feet. It was him. All along, all the women, it had been him. This embarrassing, weak man, who’d had you fucking fooled. You’d thought him a creep, but not this. Never this.

“Breathe,” he’d whispered, stroking your cheek with his fingers. Heaving sighs tore out of your mouth, and you turned your head in his hold, brushing your nose along the palm of his hand. His eyes shone with appreciation at the gesture, and he smiled. “You’re here with me now. It’s just you and me.”

Holding his gaze for a split second longer, you sank your teeth into the flesh of his hand. He shouted in pain, attempted to pull back, but you bit him harder, deeper. The taste of metal filled hit your tongue, but you didn’t let go until his other hand struck you across the face, knocking you back.

He'd hit your left side, and the all-too-familiar buzzing soared through your ear, exacerbating the pounding in your skull. “You cunt,” he spat, rising to his feet. He glared down at you, cradling his wounded hand against his chest.

And then his foot was slamming into your ribcage. “You stupid,” kick “fucking” kick “cunt” kick. The breath left your body, and you curled in on yourself on the thin mattress, wheezing, until he gave up.

“You won’t do that again,” his reedy voice called out from behind you. “Do you understand?”

Your back was to him, eyes clamped shut as you tried desperately to regulate your breathing. A stabbing pain burned in your right side, flaring every time your chest expanded with a breath. His hand came down on your shoulder, flattening you on the mattress.

“Speak,” he had snarled. “You will answer me when I talk to you, SPEAK.”

Your bloody lips stayed sealed in defiance, glaring up at him. Slowly, the corners of his mouth began to turn upward, lips stretching open to reveal a faded set of crooked teeth until he was grinning down at you. “Okay,” he nodded, reaching into his pocket and walking to the end of the mattress. “You want to see what happens when you disobey me in my house? I’ll show you what happens.”

It had been quick.

Flashes of it were burnt into your memory, but the feeling of the moment evaded you when you thought back on it. Him kneeling on your shins, saying “Do as I say, or I’ll clip your wings, little bird.” Pliers in his hand. The feeling of the cold metal on your foot. The smell of iron. A pinkie toe on the floor, by the mattress, in a crimson puddle.

Your hoarse, tormented wails had filled the room so suddenly that Lincoln was cursing while he stuffed the rag back between your lips, muttering something about people hearing you.

He had loomed over you, torso pressed against yours, gritting his teeth and laughing. Put his hands around your neck and whispered of the stories he’d heard about you, that he’d wondered about you since the day Tommy introduced him to you. “I think that was the moment I decided,” he said. “The moment I knew you were going to be mine – it was the very first time I saw you.”

“I wanted to know what he saw in you,” he’d jeered, breath hot against your neck. His hand gripped your throat, squeezing your windpipe intermittently, only ever letting up when your eyes started to roll back and the pressure inside your skull from a lack of oxygen started to become unbearable, only to increase the pressure again once you’d had a few seconds to breathe. “I’d always thought you must be a good lay, if you’ve got big bad Joel Miller whipped like a dog. Realised pretty damn quick I’d have to find out for myself.” Your arms fought tirelessly against the ropes that bound you to the wall, limbs thrashing beneath him, trying to inflict any sort of pain on him.

You frantically mouthed the word no around the rag, lungs heaving in search of oxygen. The last thing you saw before you passed out was his haunting grin.

And you were smarter after that.

Lincoln was hard to read. When he came to the room next, he acted as though the altercation had never happened. And so you followed suit. You listened when he spoke, and answered accordingly. You ate the food he slid across the floor to you. You held in a disgusted reaction when he gestured to the candles around the room one time, and said, “Romantic isn’t it? Candlelit dinner for two?”

In the quiet moments, your mind would float away, and you’d allow yourself brief moments of respite, imagining that you were somewhere, anywhere, else. In your dreams, you were with Joel. Safe in his home, in his bed, playing scrabble with Ellie on his porch while he kept score. You tried to remember the way his laugh sounded, or the way his hands felt on your skin. But everything was warped, the memories unclear. Your brain lacked clarity, and the pain distracted you. And Lincoln could tell where your thoughts went in those moments; you almost feared he could read your mind. As if your brain was splayed open before him, and he was pecking at it in curiosity.

“No one will find you,” he’d say softly. Never nastily, but in a tone that was matter of fact. “They aren’t coming for you. It’s just you and me now, sweet girl.”

You would blink away the tears in your eyes and try not to let him see how afraid you were that he was right. Your memories with Joel felt so hazy, and the last time you’d seen him he had been devastated. He feared what you’d almost done to Ellie, feared how out of his control it had been. Maybe it’s for the best, the thought raced through your brain. Maybe they’ll be happier without you.

Those thoughts were the hardest to shake. And they cut deeper than any injury Lincoln could ever inflict.

One night, when it felt like almost a week had passed, Lincoln entered the room holding two plates.

“Dinner time,” his thin voiced called, and a chill ran down your spine. Slowly, you pushed yourself into a seated position, cringing as pain shot through your side.

He placed a plate beside the mattress before tenderly undoing the rope around your left wrist.

“Eat up,” he murmured, taking a few steps back before settling onto the ground and picking up his fork.

You gazed down at the raw red marks around your wrist, basking in your favourite moment of the day – just a few sweet minutes of ‘freedom’. With an aching chest, you saw what rested on the plate. A kind of dark meat, and a small serving of parsnips.

Oh, Joel.

Sucking your lips into you mouth, you willed the tears in your eyes to dry up, desperate not to let him see any sign of weakness.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Lincoln reaching out across the space between you, and then he placed his thumb and forefinger over the big toe on your right foot, squeezing it once in a silent threat. Your throat tightened, and you resisted the urge to pull away. Speak.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered hoarsely, staring at the food.

“It’s dinner time, when else would I feed you?” he attempted to joke, hand leaving your foot to pick his fork up again. When you didn’t respond the smile slipped off his face. “You’re in a bad mood today,” he decided. “I suppose I understand.”

He watched you like a hawk, eyes raking over your features, your bloodstained clothes, the way you gazed despondently at the plate before you. “Surely you can appreciate though… I mean, it’s just… delightful, don’t you see? To see someone be brought down to their basest human form. No sunlight, minimal human interaction. You rely on me for water, for food, for company. I am all you have anymore, and it is simply… delicious.”

“You’re a fucking sadist,” you shuddered involuntarily, his words making goosebumps break out across your skin.

“I think so,” Lincoln nodded contemplatively. “It’s not inherently sexual though, I’ll have you know.” You stared, and he let out a low chuckle, hands raising defensively. “Not entirely, at least.”

“You’ll get caught,” you sneered, ignoring the way a cut on your upper lip reopened when your mouth pulled open to reveal your teeth. “You’ll slip up and someone will notice. Joel will notice.”

“Only time will tell,” he mused around a mouthful of food. “Never been caught before though, have I? Not with Milena, or any of the others before you. Not even with my wife; although it was certainly easier to get away with it in those days. The world had gone to shit – everyone was going missing; assumed to be dead or infected. It was so easy. Our girls never had a clue. They trusted me, you see? My beautiful little birds. Believed me when I told them she was lost, that she must’ve been infected. I think that’s what I adore the most – the trust. It was hard to come by here, in Jackson. People were so wary, I had to build up their confidence in me. Really ease into things, you know? But some of these women, they just saw what they wanted to see. A few kind smiles, some silly jokes, and they were mine.” Lincoln sighed wistfully, gazing absentmindedly at the curtains. “Do you like them?” he changed the subject suddenly. “They’re sparrows. Sewed them on myself.” Good God, he was still so fucking chatty.

Nausea twisted in your abdomen. Acidic bile burned in the back of your throat, threatening to bring up the pathetic contents of your stomach. “And your daughters?” you hesitated, wary of angering him. “I… I remember you saying they died.”

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, and you noticed one of his eyebrows twitch at the mention of his late children. “I let them go quickly,” he exhaled with a shrug. “Painlessly. It didn’t make sense to make them endure this world anymore. It was a mercy, if anything.”

“Fresh out of mercy then?” you asked bitterly. “If you’re so kind, and so fucking merciful, then why the are you dragging this out? Why won’t you just fucking end it?”

Fork dropping onto his plate with a loud clang, Lincoln murmured your name kindly. “Please understand,” he said. “I don’t know when I’ll get the chance again. You might be my last for a few months… so I’m trying to savour every minute I have with you.”

You stared at him, blinking slowly as you absorbed his words. How long could you possibly survive down here in these conditions? But the truth was, you knew the answer to that. You knew because you’d survived for years out in the open, with less food and less water than this. Here you had shelter, warmth, food, and water. He could keep you alive for as long as he wanted you.

Realising it had been some time since you responded to him you offered a meek smile and said, “Tell me more about the sparrows.”

Lincoln looked at you curiously. Trying not to appear uncertain, you reached forward and scooped some food from the plate with your free hand and began to eat. The action alone reminded you of Cal. Of dark nights, huddled together in dusty broken-down buildings, eating whatever food you’d been able to find out of the palms of your hands. You sniffled pathetically and tried not to think about him again.

“Good girl,” he murmured almost inaudibly, and you fought off a shiver. Swallowing made your chest ache. Based on the swelling around the middle of your torso, you assumed at least one of your ribs was broken. Even inhaling brought a sharp pain to your right side, but swallowing? That was a whole other world of pain.

Lincoln spoke about the birds, told you how they symbolised joy and simplicity, and your eyes flitted around the room, taking in as much as you could in the dim yellow light. And then suddenly, he was turning his head fully to stare at the curtains. His back was almost entirely to you, and your heart stuttered painfully at the opportunity that had presented itself. From this angle, you were sure he wouldn’t be able to see you in his peripheral vision. Was this on purpose? Was it a test? Heart pounding, you worked silently to push the remaining food off your ceramic plate and onto the floor. Eyes focused on him, you waited for him to turn back, to check in on you, to do anything – but he didn’t.

“You know in the bible,” he said thoughtfully. “Sparrows represented God’s love and care for his creations.”

You hummed in response, gripping the plate in your hand and edging forward. Sweat tickled your forward, made your skin itch. You wanted to wipe away the fresh blood that had oozed from your lip onto your chin, but you refrained. No sudden movements. He was so close now, and this chance would not be wasted on you.

Do not be afraid, you thought.

Blood rushed in your ears as you propelled yourself forward, smashing the plate down upon the crown of his skull.

Lincoln pitched forward, his face knocking against the cold ground with a sickening thwack. He howled a ragged, guttural noise of pain, but his movements were sluggish, his reaction time too slow. A fiery pain roared in your side from the movement and you whimpered, dropping the jagged shard of the plate that remained in your hand. Gripping his ankle, you cried out at the strength required to tug his body toward you. He was writhing on the ground, trying to fight against the fog in his brain no doubt, but you pulled him still, until he was perfectly close.

He mumbled your name, and you brought your fist down over his nose, effectively shutting him up.

“Stop fucking saying my name,” you growled, angrily swiping perspiration off your upper lip. This was it. If this didn’t work out, if he regained the upper hand, you’d be dead, no questions asked. You’d started this, and now would certainly be your only chance to finish it. God, your ribs were on fire. You hastily dragged a fragment of the plate in a sawing movement across the rope keeping your other wrist tied, and when it broke away, you heaved a painful sigh of relief.

Planting your knees on either side of his body, you straddled his chest, trapping his arms to his torso. You patted down his body, searching his pockets until you found what you were looking for. The pliers were cold and heavy in your hand. Lincoln blinked lazily, gazing past your shoulder at the roof.

You reached down and gripped the sides of his head. “Look at me,” you seethed, before slamming his head back into the ground. He groaned loudly, but his eyes focused on your face. Blood poured from his nose, spilling into his open mouth and filling the gaps between tooth and gum.

“You won’t kill me,” he garbled out around the crimson liquid. “My little bird… I know you wouldn’t kill me.”

“Stop talking,” you moved to be beside his body and pressed your knee onto his left arm.

“You won’t,” he was speaking incessantly now, rambling. “I know you, you’re good. You’re so good, you sweet girl. You wouldn’t kill, and that’s why I like you. I could see it in you. You’re too good for this world, I’m trying to help you, don’t you see?”

“Shut up,” you snarled, pushing the pliers down until they were positioned around his pinkie finger. “You think you fucking know me? You have no idea of the things I’ve done.”

His eyes blinked lazily, trying listlessly to focus. His free hand reached sluggishly towards your face, and you batted it down roughly. Gripping the pliers in both hands, you pressed down. The sound of his screams filled the room as his pinkie finger rolled across the floor.

“You want me to come into my home,” you sneered. “Take me, hide me away, and then kill me?” Positioning the tool over his ring finger, you cut him slowly, revelling in the pained sounds leaving his body, the way his blood spilled onto your hands as you worked. “Oh, Lincoln. You’ll have to try harder than this.”

Again and again, you worked with a gruellingly slow pace, removing all five digits. You didn’t notice that his free hand was gripping your arm so tightly that his nails had drawn blood. Bile rose in your throat, but you swallowed it down. Do not be afraid.

“Please,” he was sobbing, his mouth wide open like a sore on his face, jagged teeth exposed through thin bloody lips.

And yet as he begged, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel remorse, because through the tears, and the snot, and the blood, it wasn’t just Lincoln that you saw. It was that boy, from a decade ago. That boy that climbed on top of you and laughed. Who enjoyed your fear. Who held you down that night, and every night after, plaguing you in your sleep for years. The boy you couldn’t fight. The boy you couldn’t kill. You wouldn’t let it happen again. Never again.

A memory flitted through your mind so quickly it almost didn’t register. But his voice was clear in your head. Joel, and the words you’d shared in front of the fireplace at your home so many weeks beforehand.

“I want to be strong, Joel.”

“You are strong.”

You refocused on Lincoln’s face.

“You want to be in control?” you sputtered, vaguely aware of how deranged your shrill voice sounded. “You want women to be quiet little toys for you to play with in this sick game you’ve created? I’m a fucking person! I’m real!” your voice cracked. “You want to kill me, Lincoln? Let’s see you do it without your fucking fingers.” You realised then that you were crying. Soundless tears streaked down your cheeks, leaving clear trails in the dirt and blood that stained your face.

He looked on the verge of passing out, and you tore his hand off your arm, stumbling away from his body. You stepped awkwardly on your right foot and yelped in pain, grimacing at the bloody footprint that followed behind you when you walked. Wrapping an arm around your torso, against your ribs, you struggled to breathe. Running on pure adrenaline, your eyes drifted toward the table in the corner. A pocketknife and a lighter laid serenely on the top of it, and you stumbled toward it slowly.

But a heavy blow landed on the back of your knee, stopping you in your tracks. Your arms flailed as you fell forward, and when you hit the ground, the table came toppling down with you.

“S-stop,” Lincoln was speaking, his speech slurred and disjointed. His bloodied hands clawed at your legs, pulling your body towards him while you thrashed against his hold. Your leg kicked backward desperately and connected with his face, and you screamed at the throbbing pain that shot through your foot.

Neither of you noticed how the table had knocked over multiple candles, or the way fire blazed along the bottom of the curtains. Little sparrows, turning to ash as flames snaked their way up the drapes, slowly engulfing the walls of the room in vibrant red.

You fumbled for the pocketknife on the floor, rolling onto your back just as his weight landed on top of you. His heavy breaths hit your face, blood dripping from his nose and splashing onto your skin.

“Little bird,” he whimpered brokenly. “Why would you ruin this?”

The temperature in the room had risen exponentially, and the pair of you were so close to the wall that it was impossible to ignore now. Wild flames licked at the bare skin of your arm, but you paid the burn no mind, pushing against his face, his neck, trying to get as much distance between you as possible.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he howled, landing a heavy blow across your face. You coughed roughly, blood spitting up from your mouth onto your chin.

You gave up on pushing him back, instead using your hands to fumble with the knife. Lincoln’s good hand gripped your throat, his remaining fingers pressing down on your windpipe. Blood roared in your ears, and you were sweating, and god it was so hot. The air thickened with smoke, making it harder to breathe than it already was. Your hands were so slick with blood that it was difficult to unhook the small blade, but after a few moments you did it. Gasping for air as he bore his entire weight against your neck, you plunged the knife into his side.

A choked sound of surprise fell from his mouth, and then air was rushing into your lungs, and you were coughing harshly, watching as his body collapsed to the side of you.

He was still alive when you crawled on top of him, eyes bulging as he gripped the handle of the blade lodged in his side. You slammed your fist against his broken nose, and both of you cried out in pain. By this point, the fire was roaring through the room, the four walls covered in a beautiful mix of orange and red flames. The heat was sweltering, and so so close that sweat dripped from your nose and chin.

A deafening bang reverberated through the room and you covered your face instinctively. Shattered glass from the windows rained through the air and covered the ground, and moonlight streamed into the room.

Distantly, you thought you could hear voices, or the sound of a door opening, but you ignored it. Impossible. Your fingers wrapped around Lincoln’s spindly neck, and you positioned your thumbs over his windpipe, before pressing downward with all of the strength in your body. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, but you pushed through it, gathering blood and spit in your mouth and releasing it in a spray onto his face. He flinched back at the sensation, and you grinned messily.

You imagined briefly what you must look like; covered in a mix of blood and dirt, hair matted to your head, straddling this man, and grinning down at him.

“Are you afraid?” you whispered.

You could see the light slowly fading from his eyes, and you pressed harder, arms burning with the effort. A burning sensation exploded in your left thigh, but you ignored it, digging your elbows into his chest for leverage and pushing. In the second you realised it was about to be over, there were hands on you. Gripping you, wrapping around your waist, wrenching you away from him.

The foreign hands were pulling you back, tugging you towards the door, but your eyes were trained on Lincoln, as he gasped for air on the floor, alive. You could hear shouting, male voices yelling so closely, but the words were indecipherable. And then suddenly, you were enveloped by cold, winter air. You were outside.

Hyperventilating, you dropped to your knees on the ground, burying your red hands in the wet grass, and wailed. Thick tears blurred your vision and rolled down your face in hot rivulets.

The relief was short lived though, as those hands returned to your body. Gliding over your back, squeezing your shoulders, touching your face. Your stomach rolled violently.

“Don’t touch me,” you begged, your voice an unfamiliar shriek as it ripped from somewhere deep inside your body. “Get your fucking hands off me, don’t fucking touch me, don-“

“Darlin’, it’s me, it’s me,” you could hear, but you just fought harder, beating against the solid wall of brick in front of you, pounding your fists against his chest.

“I’ll fucking,” you gasped for air, eyes clamped tightly shut. “I’ll fucking kill you, get away from me.”

But familiar hands were gripping your face, holding you tightly, forcing you to look, and when you did, it’s like your body went limp. All the fight in you disappeared.

You mumbled his name, and he nodded furiously, those brown eyes you loved gazing into yours, panic and concern evident in the harsh lines across his forehead, in that deep frown you knew so well.

“It’s me, baby, I’ve got you,” his voice was like a song in your ears, and you closed your eyes and let him hold you, listening to the desperate apologies he whispered into your ear. “You’re safe, I’m so sorry, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I’ve got you now, it’s over, it’s over.”

part seven

tag list <3

@huffle-punk @n7cje @ghostofjoharvelle @nrmnie @sarahhxx03 @casa-boiardi @leeeesahhh @missgurrl

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #my writing #under the night

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theetherealbloom · 1 year

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UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 5

Chapter Five: Our Mistakes Were Bound To Be Made

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, reader in this chapter thinking of unalive, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk!

Word Count: 10.8k

A/N: HELLO! WOW UM YOU GUYS ARE SO KIND AND SWEET AND AHHHHH every time I write I get so fricken nERVOUS bcs I want to do it right and I heckin’ put a lot of pressure on myself every time I create something and I want it to be good and now I’m slowly beginning to realize I’m a perfectionist AHKJFHAHA But it’s so worth it, I always look forward to your comments and feedback and warms my heart to see you all enjoying the series so far! ALRIGHT go go go go!

(P.S. UHHH THIS GIF MAKES ME GO FERAL DASKJJFHASKDGH WHY AM I SMILING SO WIDE RN PLS I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM HNGGGG)

Song: hate to be lame (feat. FINNEAS) by Lizzy McAlpine Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD - 2023

KANSAS CITY – MIDNIGHT

Joel has his large frame covering your body and you’re trying to steady your breathing. His fingers are still gripping your waist tightly, feeling them pressing onto your skin. You hear Henry speak in a commanding voice, “Eyes on me. Eyes on me.” You and Joel slowly bring your eyes to him, while yours are wide with fear like Ellie’s, Joel’s eyes are narrowed in anger. He’s pissed at himself right now.

Henry has the gun pointed at Ellie, who was kneeling with her hands up, he speaks again, “You don’t have to worry about what to say. We don’t want to hurt you. We wanna help you.” Joel only utters a single word, “Okay.” Henry shifts his weight, making it clear he’s never done this before, “Okay, um…” You try and speak up, “Henry, please put down the gun–” This takes him aback and he sputters in anger, “How the fuck do you know my name?” Your body flinches at the sound of his rising voice and fear of what he would do.

Joel’s gaze darkens, it was like as if a switch had flipped, his vein is close to popping out of his neck, he is the turbulence and wrath all at once, and he shouts at Henry, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to her like that. Only talk to me.” You and Ellie look at him, mouths slightly parting and blinking up at him in shock. There is a sudden pause that fills the fair, and Henry understands that you were important to him, just like the girl who was kneeling in front of him. He shifts his weight again to his other side and speaks calmly this time, “I don’t know what the next step is with something like this but if I lower my gun we didn’t hurt you so you don’t hurt us. Right?”

Joel stares at him with daggers in his eyes, and refuses to warm his tone as he replies, “That’s right.” Henry blinks twice and nervously says, “That’s a weird fucking tone, man.” Ellie is quick in trying to diffuse the situation, “That’s just the way he sounds. He has an asshole voice.” She turns to stare pointedly at him and says, “Joel, tell him he’s okay.” You softly say, “Joel, please.” A beat passes, but Joel doesn’t let up, his voice becomes colder, and stares unwaveringly as he looks at Henry, “Everything is great.”

Ellie lets out an exasperated sigh, “Dude.” While Henry lets out a curse, “Fuck!” His hands are shaking and you get to hear the rattle of the gun as he speaks, “Okay. Listen. I’m gonna trust you.” Henry lifts his arm to get Sam’s attention, the young boy turns his head to his older brother who begins to use sign language, “I’m going to trust him.” Sam signs back to him asking, “Are you sure?” And Henry reassures him, “Yes.” His voice rises again, “But if either of you guys try anything…” He points the gun closer to Ellie’s head, indicating what he means, “Yeah?”

Ellie replies with an unsteady, “Yeah.” And Sam steps off of you and Joel, no longer perched up above you. You feel his grip loosen a bit, but his presence is still there. Joel thinks for a second and asks Henry, “Can we sit up?” And he replies simply, “Yeah. Slow. Get up slow.”

You feel his hands leave your hips and slowly remove himself from you, and you and he sit up slowly, doing as you were told. Joel asks for verification, “Is your name, Henry?” He nods, “Yeah, my name’s Henry. That’s my brother, Sam. I’m the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now… my guess is you’re running a close second.” Henry lowers the gun from Ellie’s head, and the uneasiness of the situation dissipates a little bit. You feel your throat closing up as you stare at Sam and Henry, two characters whose futures were written with crayons and coloring books. It was misspelled and outside the lines, and you know their stories end in tragedy.

You, Joel, and Ellie sat across from Henry and Sam, in a fully formed circle. They had asked if you had any food and you nodded, grabbing the remaining packs of food from your bag. The lamp in the center illuminated the room, brushing aside the dark and making room for the bright. You were all chewing and eating quietly, discomfort hanging in the air, a scale waiting to tip off balance, this alliance that had been formed through force and tension.

While chewing, Henry decides to break the silence to ask, “Where’d you get these?” Ellie chirpily replies, “From Bill. He’s dead.” Your lips form into a frown at her words, even though you haven’t met Frank and Bill, the thought of them always causes your eyes to glaze over, your gaze now distant, over the memory of their love and how it ended. Not knowing what to say, the two brothers keep quiet at her statement.

Joel is busy glaring at Henry, unhappy and pissed at his presence, but his overwhelming sense of responsibility takes over and looks to the younger kid Sam, he crumples up the wrapper and gives his remaining food to him. He smiles and taps Henry’s shoulder, signing a thank you, and telling Joel, “He says thank you. I’m guessing you don’t have much, so this means a lot.”

Joel doesn’t say anything and he’s completely stoic, you decide to look at Sam and give him a small wave and you begin to move your hands and arms to sign and speak, “How old are you?” Everyone looks at you in surprise, not expecting what you had done, Henry raises an eyebrow, “You know ASL?” And you nod and signed as you spoke so Sam could also understand, “I’m close with my cousin, she’s deaf. I decided to take up classes early on so I could gossip to her about boys every time she came over after school without my parents finding out.”

Joel can’t take his eyes off of you, his compartmentalization is cracking and this close to shattering. He wonders how he got so lucky to have you with them, and this contrast with Joel’s abject terror at having to feel any sort of fondness or emotions towards you and Ellie. He’s trying to find a reason for him to be angry, to lash out at you for being so kind in an upside-down world, but he can’t bring himself to.

Sam smiles and signs to you, “Eight.” Ellie smiles and says “Cool. I’m Ellie.” And you sign her name for him, and he nods in understanding, you also sign your name and he smiles at you, what a beautiful kid. Ellie then wacks Joel on the knee so he could be polite and introduce himself, he looks at the girl with a frown, and she persists him, he sighs, “I’m Joel. Look, you ate, we didn’t kill each other let’s call this a win-win and move on.” Henry cleans his hands and swallows the rest of his food, “Well, I’m betting that ya’ll came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun’s up I’ll show you one.”

TLOU WORLD - 2023

OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – DAY

“Welcome to Killa City.” Henry says as you three look out the large glass window, “No FEDRA.” Joel states and Henry confirms this, “Not as of ten days ago, no.” Joel has his arms crossed over his chest, while you stand beside him, he says, “We always heard KC FEDRA was…”

“Monsters? Savages? Yeah, you heard right.” Henry said and he recounts what happened in those walls, “Raped and tortured and murdered people for twenty years. And you know what happens when you do that to people? The moment they get the chance, they do it right back to you.” You shudder at the thought of that, for twenty years FEDRA raped, tortured, and murdered for sport, all because they had the opportunity and power to do as they pleased. “But your not FEDRA?” Joel asks him, Henry looks up at him, “No, worse. I’m a collaborator.”

“What’s a collaborator?” You ask, and Joel answers you, “He’s a rat. I don’t fuckin’ work with rats,” He’s turning and about to usher you away but Henry is swift as he retorts, “Yeah, you fucking do. Today you do because I live here and you don’t. That’s how I followed you here. I know this city, and that’s how I’m gonna help you get out.” Joel’s eyes narrow in suspicion, “Why help us?”

“I saw what you did. What you both did. The way you killed those men.” His eyes shift to look at you and Joel subtly steps in front of you to block him from staring at you, his protective instinct taking over, Henry stares at Joel again, “Now, I know where to go but I don’t know how to make it through alive. Not if it’s just me and Sam.”

“You seem capable enough. You’re armed.” Joel says and Henry shakes his head, “You’re wrong and wrong. Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at both of you was the closest I’ve ever come to being violent. So that’s the deal. I show the way. You clear the way.”

A laugh from Ellie and Sam causes the three of you to bring your eyes to them. They’re reading Ellie’s pun book and giggling to themselves. Henry has made a major admission to the two of you, that their guns were not loaded. Joel faces the window again, trying to decide, and you hug yourself with both your arms and listen to Henry say, “Haven’t heard that in a long time.”

“So how are we getting out?” Joel asks reluctantly with both hands on his hips, he has no other option but to let Henry lead the way. He grabs a piece of paper, places it on the conference table, then uses a pencil and begins to draw a map of the area, he begins to explain how to cross the highway, “Highways, downtown.” He points to the center of the paper, “Us.” He circles a specific area of the map, “This whole area belongs to Kathleen.”

“She’s in charge?” Ellie questions next to you, “Leader of the resistance,” Henry confirms, “You can see the way we’re bounded by highways. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question. So how do we get across?” Henry bangs on the table, the vibrations getting caught with Sam’s senses, he looks to Henry and signs to him, “How do we get across?” The young boy nods and writes across the Woody Woodpecker doodle pad, and he holds up the board, “Tunnels.”

Henry snaps his fingers, “Boom.” And Joel is perplexed as he questions, “Kansas City has a subway?” The older brother looks down before replying, “No, but they do have maintenance tunnels. There’s a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including… a bank building here.” He begins to draw on the sheet of paper again the graphite leaving marks on it, “So we enter the tunnels here travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential.” Joel has his mouth twisted to the side while you’re trying to process all the information being said by Henry, “There’s an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, pedestrian bridge over the river,” he claps his hand for emphasis, “free as a bird.”

“You’re right. That’s a great plan. So, what do you need me for?” Joel his voice was deep and stern as he asked, Henry, licks his lips nervously and takes a breath before replying, “You noticed anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange shit you’ve already seen.” You’re quick to reply, “There’s no infected above ground.”

“Bingo, damn she knows ASL and she’s observant, you’re pretty smart,” Henry says and you stare wide-eyed at his compliment, not knowing how to take it. Joel, however, is clenching his fist, and scowling at him. He clears his throat, uncomfortable and intimidated, “FEDRA drove them underground fifteen years ago and never let them come back up. It’s the only good thing those fascist motherfuckers ever did.”

“So you want us going into a tunnel?” Joel states and Henry quickly defends himself, “Everyone thinks that it’s full of Infected including Kathleen, which means that we’re not gonna be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is it’s empty.” He smiles smugly and Joel is skeptical, “You’ve been down there?” Henry replies with a meek, “No,” Joel takes a deep, frustrated, breath, about to chew him out but Henry pushes on, “but the FEDRA guy that I worked with told me that it’s clean, completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“When?” Ellie asks this time, “Like three years ago.” Henry replies, and Joel tsked at him while placing both palms on the table, shaking his head in disapproval, he responds with, “Okay, maybe, there’s one or two but you handle it.” Joel looks up at him, “What if there’s more?” Ellie adds, “And one of those blind ones that sees like a bat?” Henry looks surprised, “Wait, you ran into a clicker?” The young girl acts brave, “Two of them.” He then says proving his point, “And you’re still alive. You see? You’re the right people. If it gets bad down there we turn around and run right back out the same way we came.” Joel pushes himself off the table, puffing his chest, “That’s your great plan?” Henry shoots back, “No, that’s my dicey-as-fuck plan. But as far as I could tell,” he shrugs, “it’s our only shot.”

Joel sighs and you hear a thumping sound from the table, it’s coming from Sam, and he signs, “What are they saying?” Henry looks to you for an answer, and immediately your gaze is fixed on Joel, the temper in his eyes cool down and soften, this tells you all you need to know, you look to Sam as you speak and sign to the young boy, “We’re going to help you escape.”

TLOU WORLD - 2023

BANK BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – DAY

The group makes their way across the street and into the abandoned bank. The tall glass windows made you restless, if one of the rebels drove by someone could spot you easily. Joel reads your mind as he says, “We need to get out of sight.” Henry takes a look around and spots the entrance, “Uh, I think it’s this way.” Joel nods and the group breaks into a jog to the right-side hallway of the bank building. The squeak of the door fills breaks the silence and the shine of flashlights chase away the darkness. All of you enter, and Henry says to Joel, “This should be it. You ready?” Joel shifts his gaze to Ellie and then you, “Get your gun out.”

Ellie smiles and pulls it out of her jacket pocket and you do the same, Joel begins to take the lead and you trail behind him. He pushes the large metal maintenance door, shining his flashlight and making sure it’s clear. “See, it’s empty. The plan is good.” Henry says optimistically, and you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. You hear Joel shush him, “The plan is good? We’ve been down here for two seconds. We don’t know anything.” Henry leans back a little, tilting his head at Ellie and you, “You’re dad’s kind of a pessimist.” And in synchronized fashion, the two of them reply, “He’s not my dad.” While Joel says, “I’m not her dad.” You nearly laugh and hide your face with one of your hands as the other was currently holding the flashlight and gun. Henry doesn’t say anything and Joel begins to give instructions, “Just point your light forward and be ready to run.”

You walk a few paces behind Joel with Ellie right behind you, the sound of footsteps echoes in the tunnel, and with every step, you hear the sound of the cement beneath your boots. After what seems like an hour, you take a left, to a section of the tunnel, and stumble across a colorful entrance, one you instantly recognize from one of the scenes in the video game. A castle is painted at the entrance of the door, and blue covers the walls representing the sky, people were drawn on them, child-like in manner. Flowers were painted, along with hills and rainbows.

Ellie lets out a quiet, “Woah,” as your lights bounced around the walls to admire and inspect them. You see Sam about to open the door but Joel stops him while shaking his head, “No.” He goes first, pushing the heavy door, taking a peek with his gun out, and finding no infected.

The rest of the group follows him inside to find chairs, tables, toys, and books scattered around the room. You see the large goal painted on the wall and find a ball right next to it. Joel looks up to find the ventilation fan and says, “I heard about places like this. People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

“What happened to them?” Ellie asks, and Joel looks at the whiteboard with the written house rules, “Maybe they didn’t follow the rules and they all got infected.” Ellie hums and walks over to one of the tables, Sam plops down on one of the chairs, and she messes around with him. Joel looks at a kid’s drawing on the wall, figures representing Danny and Ish. You look over his shoulder and then approached the wall, grabbing the drawing. Joel watches you and asks, “Do you know who they are?” You nod, “Yeah, Ish’s backstory might be different though. But the summary of it is that he established a community here with another guy named Danny, and Suzan and Kyle, with their kids. And several others, but at some point, a door was left open. Just like you said, someone forgot to follow the rules.” Joel sees you frowning and your eyes sad, “What happened to them?” You look up at him, “Ish, Suzan, and the kids escaped and made it out to the suburbs, after that their fate is unknown.”

You hear Ellie and Sam find a Savage Starlight comic and hear her excitement, “No way! I love these!” They begin to converse over the comic issues that they have, you shine your light around the room, looking through books and drawings. You hear Ellie speak again, “To the edge of the universe and back. Endure and Survive.” He begins to teach her how to sign the last two words, “Endure. Survive. Fuck yeah, man!” And they giggle and high-five.

“Keep it down. We’re not out yet.” Joel says and you’re busy grabbing one of the science books that was left behind, you hear Ellie groan, “Oh, c’mon. Can we just rest here for a while? There’s like actually shit to do here.” Henry pipes in, “Wouldn’t be so bad to wait the light out a bit. Safer in the shadows when we pop back out on the other side.” You also decide to mumble, not caring if they heard or not, “And let them be kids for a bit. It wouldn’t hurt them to have a little fun.”

Ellie looks at Joel, and seemingly outnumbered, he shrugs and lets them do whatever. The three of you sit at the table, next to Joel, while he and Henry watch both of the kids play. You are busy studying the book you found, was a bit outdated, but it still held the key information you needed to review, and for some reason, you’re having a hard time remembering important memories.

You hear Ellie and Sam having the most fun that they’ve had in years. Their life is a gorgeous broken gift, with billions of people waiting to be fixed. They were just kids who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up, and suddenly it fits. They grew up too quickly, but if only they knew, that the sunlight shines a little brighter, the weight of the world’s a little lighter all because of them.

You hear Joel lowly speak, “If you were… collaboratin’ to take care of him I shouldn’t have said what I said. I don’t know you’re situation. And I’m not sayin’ they should let it go, but… All things considered, seems kinda cruel… to send a whole army after you for that.” You raise your eyes from the book, watching the two men, Henry looks down before he admits what information he was hiding, “You know, I wasn’t… exactly telling you two the truth before about me not killing someone.”

Joel turns to look at him with his mouth slightly parted while your eyes are simply waiting for him to continue, “There was a man, a great man. You know, he was never afraid, never selfish, and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kind of man you’d follow anywhere.” Your leg begins to bounce up and down in anticipation while you slowly bring your eyes to Joel. He wasn’t that kind of man, and despite that, you knew deep down you follow him anywhere. Henry continues and your eyes dart back to him, “I mean, I wanted to. I would’ve. Yeah, but… Sam, he… he got sick. Leukemia.” Your leg stops bouncing after that, you completely go numb and breathing becomes a little harder. A pause between you three, a dose of reality that there were plenty of other illnesses and diseases besides the cordyceps they had to worry about. The quality and value of human lives have deteriorated over the twenty years in their world, and the decisions people have collectively made, to fight each other rather than together inevitably cause the apocalyptic world they have today. You know so little, yet fear so much. You aspire not to expire at the hand of some infectious disease. Children can no longer have proper childhoods, and no more clumsy start to adolescence, the moment they were brought into this world, they now also carry the burden of the past.

Henry continues, “Yeah, anyway… there was one drug that worked and, whoa, big shock. There wasn’t much left of it and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen’s brother. Yeah, so… you still think they should take it easy on me? Or am I the bad guy?”

You rub the side of your face in exhaustion and stress, while Joel gives him a one-shoulder shrug, “I don’t know what you’re waitin’ on, man. The answer’s easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing.” You shake your head, “What was his name?” He promptly responds, “Michael.” You continue, disagreeing with his statement, “No, it will never be that easy. You made a human decision. You took a risk because of your love for Sam at the cost of an uprising that wouldn’t have even happened if you hadn’t done what you did.” Henry only looks at you with guilt then he stares at Joel, “But you get it, though. You might not be her father, but you were someone’s.” Joel doesn’t deny it and simply looks down at the table while Henry goes on, “See, I could tell.” He shifts his gaze at you again, “You weren’t a parent, but I see how hard you try to be there for everyone.”

Joel looks at you for confirmation, but you merely blink with a gaze full of denial, you turn away and stand up from your chair while grabbing your flashlight, gun, and bag, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. The sun is about to set, let’s go.” For the first time, you were the one to walk away.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

PARKING LOT OF THE BANK OF AMERICA, ON THE WAY TO THE SUBURBS, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

The sound of the metal door opening fills your ears as you walk out of the stairwell, flashlights shine through the darkness as Joel asks, “Do you know where we are?” Henry replies with optimism, “Yep. The other side.” You begin to walk away from the parking lot and into the suburbs. You pull Joel to the side and tug on his arm, he leans down to your height before you could go on your tip toes, and you whisper, “Joel, I’m not sure Sam and Henry are gonna make it. So far it’s been good, and things might’ve changed but I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, ‘cause I can’t remember how it goes from here.”

He looks at you with great concern, “What do you mean?” Your eyebrows tense and your eyes nervously move and shift as the words spill out of your mouth, talking in circles, “Henry might kill himself, but I don’t know why, something is stopping me from fully remembering, I was gonna tell you as soon as I could, but everything was happening so fast and at first I couldn’t recognize anything until the settlement we found… but I can’t… I’m trying my hardest, I swear but–” Joel grips your shoulders and you freeze, “Look at me.” You can feel your heartbeat racing, the anxiety running through your bloodstream and crippling your ability to breathe, “Hey… Hey. Look at me. It will be fine, we’ll figure it out, together.” Your eyes slowly fix on him as the both of you stood there, you know Joel doesn’t make promises, he isn’t at that point yet, but his sense of needing to care for you, to find a way to get rid of your distress, is slowly overpowering his practicality right now. He feels it within himself as his eyes are steadily on yours, trying to keep you grounded, here with him. Slowly, you come back to yourself and take a deep breath, mimicking his breathing.

The world was brighter before you had learned to dim it down, now you call it survival, breath is borrowed and our compass within you stands still. Beneath your brave and trusting feet, all revelations come to you in recovery, you start to nod at the man in front of you, who had his hand still gripped on your shoulders, “I’m fine. I’m okay. Let’s keep going.”

You hadn’t realized that the rest of the group had stopped a few steps ahead of you to give you and Joel the privacy you needed, he lets go and you follow him forward, Ellie only gives you a reassuring smile and you gently smile back at her. There are rows of houses sound asleep, and only streetlamps notice you, while you look for signals, for a clue.

Joel continues to lead the pack and you hear Henry comment from behind you, “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because my plan worked.” You look up to the sky in annoyance as you, “Can you not say shit like that. It’ll jinx us.” And Joel clicks his tongue at him, “So much goddamn talkin’.” Ellie smirks at both of your attitudes while Henry points out, “I’m just sayin’, I deliver.” He raises his arm and directs, “Make this right, go down the street embankment behind the last house… and we’re out.”

Ellie peers at Henry questioning him, “So we cross the river, and then what? Where ya gonna go?” He ponders for a moment, “Don’t know yet.” And Ellie can’t help herself as she says to him, “Well, we’re goin’ to Wyoming.” Joel turns his head to glare at Ellie, she shrugs at him, “What? It’s a huge state. It can fit two more people.” He looks ahead, not wanting to argue with her, Henry senses Joel doesn’t want them joining, “Yeah. Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells.” Ellie replies, “No. He’ll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes.” Then she begins to mock Joel’s tone and voice, “He’s like, ‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.’ And then I’m like, ‘I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like–”

The sound of a bullet piercing through one of the rusting cars on the side of the street causes all five of you to flinch and duck your heads, you hear Ellie scream, “Fuck!” You’re all confused and puzzled, looking for the source of the sound. A second shot rings out and you all fully process you’re now in a potentially life-threatening situation. Joel shouts and covers you all, “Move! Move! Go!” You all run to hide behind a car, and get low on the ground, “Where the fuck is that coming from?” Henry asks and Joel hisses at him, “Shut up.”

Joel peeks to try and identify where the sniper is positioned, he sees a muzzle flash go off at the end of the road, the highest window of the last house, and he ducks back down. The sharp sound of glass shattering behind you. You hear Henry, “Shit. All right, fuck. Let’s move. Let’s go.” And proceeds to grab Sam by the wrist, attempting to run away, Joel yells at them for their naiveness, “What are you doin’?” He replies, “Gettin’ the fuck outta here!” But another gunshot rings out, hitting the rooftop of one of the nearby cars, Henry reacts and drags Sam back to the three of you, he asks panting, “What do we do?” Joel tries to peek again and luckily the guy misses and hits the car’s trunk.

After assessing the situation, Joel tucks his revolver back in his gun holster, “All right. Stay here.” Ellie whips her head to look at him and you do the same, all at once you both say, “What?” He brings his body to fully face the both of you, “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house from the back, and then I’ll take him out.” Ellie brings up her valid concern, her voice filled with worry, “But if you go out there he’s gonna kill you.” Joel responds with confidence, “It’s dark and he has shit aim. Nobody’s gonna kill me.” She tries to argue, “Then he’s gonna kill us.”

A beat passes. Then Joel looks directly at Ellie, his eyes firm and steady, with no ounce of doubt, he asks her full of conviction, “Do you trust me?” Ellie swallows down her fear, blinks, and nods. “Birdie, watch over her,” Joel commands and leaves you no room or time to argue, he gets up and proceeds to make his way over to the house down the road.

You and Ellie anxiously watch from a distance, each second you’re secretly praying and wishing that nothing happens to him. Your heart is beating so loudly, the sound of drums beating and thumping non-stop, your worry so evident that you try and stop the oncoming tears that threaten to spill off your face. How quickly did you grow attached to someone who you once believed wasn’t even real? The truth is, the chances are you are alike, against the odds and the grain. Against what better judgment writes, you both ache like children for love. You have no stakes on the ground or an anchor tied down. There are no guarantees, you know nothing but your fears of attachment and neediness.

You toss your feelings away, letting them sink deep below the ocean floor in your chest. It doesn’t matter. You remind yourself and watch him make his way to the back of the house, no longer seeing the silhouette of his figure. Two more loud pops and then the gunfire stops, the four of you sit in quiet eerie silence. You couldn’t tell if minutes or an hour had passed, but a distant gunshot could be heard, this time not directed at any of you.

You hear a revving car from a distance, and Joel distant yell but is unable to understand what he’s trying to communicate. Ellie’s ears perk up and you all stand to see lights appearing from a distance. Shit. You grab Ellie by the wrist and yell out, “Run!” You feel your whole body working; your leg muscles running warm, cold air entering your lungs and blood flowing into all your limbs. Your calves burned, and your breath formed clouds in the air. You look up at the house while sprinting, and from a distance you see Joel trying to take out the driver of the plow that was barreling through the cars. You and Ellie try to shoot while running, but it does essentially nothing to stop the truck.

The tensions heighten when Joel’s rifle jams and you three are helplessly trying to evade the plow. But this jam provides pause for Joel to collect his breath and re-aim, so the next shot he fires takes out the plow driver. The large truck crashes into a house, causing it to go ablaze and a loud explosion occurs. Ellie falls to the grown and you pick her right back up, quickly ushering her to Henry and Sam, who were hiding behind one of the old and rotting cars, you ask her, “You okay?” She replies with a small, “Yeah.” You hear a loud voice coming from a woman, assuming it’s Kathleen, “Dead end, Henry. Gonna step on out? Save us some time? No? That’s all right, it doesn’t matter.”

Henry looks at Sam, who’s terrified and shaking, he yells out, “I’ll come out! Just let the girl and the kids go!” Kathleen clicks her tongue and in a calm tone, she responds, “No. Sorry. Those two girls are with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam… Well, Sam’s with you.” Henry argues, “You don’t understand!” And the rebel leader pushes back, “But I do. I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?” His voice chokes up as answered, “He’s just a fucking kid!” You can hear the way Kathleen rolls her eyes, “Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time. You think the whole world revolves around him? That he’s worth… everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”

You couldn’t help yourself, the lightheadedness you feel, the built-up stress, the adrenaline within you, the gasoline that had turned into a flame, an anger that could match a bull’s, recklessly you shout at her, “I’m sorry about Michael, I am. But, Kathleen, can you fucking look past your revenge? Past your hate? Did you even fucking realize that none of this would have happened, your so-called freedom and victory over FEDRA would have never happened if your brother hadn’t died.”

“You have no idea what it’s fucking like! To be without him! He was everything!” She shrieks and you raise your voice louder, “I fucking do! To have everything you’ve known and loved taken away from you? To lose? I know it all too well. Kathleen, can’t you see? We all lost. All of us lost the day the outbreak happened.” There was a pause, and you hear the gears turning in their heads, you continue, “Will killing us bring them back from the dead, or will it just validate your anger? The world ended and all this time we’ve wasted trying to kill each other instead of working together to try and fix the obvious problem. And for what? Tell me. What good did it do?”

A collective silence fills the air, save for the only noise coming from the burning house across the street, Kathleen shakes her head and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, sealing her fate, “I don’t care.”

You shake your head in disappointment, Henry grabs you by the wrist, “Get ready to take them and run.” You start to argue but reassures you, “Yes! Do it.” You grab Ellie’s hand while she holds Sam’s, ready to run. You hear Kathleen speak again, “It’s time, Henry. Enough!” He takes a deep breath before you watch him stand up, his hands in the air, walking into their view. Kathleen shrugs, “It ends the way it ends.” The click of a gun could be heard, and you anticipate the gunshot but instead hear a loud rumbling noise.

You peek past the cars to see the plow truck has damaged the basement of the house, caving a hole into the sewers below, and then you hear the familiar sound of groans and screeching. The Infected geyser up out of the hole, all at once, sprinting towards the rebels. The sounds of gunfire rang out and more infected came up out of the hole, they seemed infinite. Henry joins back to the three of you and hides behind the truck, a Clicker chases after him and stands atop the truck only for it to get shot by Joel. Henry grabs Sam and decides to run away, you and Ellie do the same. Only for you to get separated when a Clicker grabs Ellie, and Joel shoots it from the perch. The impact causes you both to fall, this is when you and Ellie spot an open car window. Knowing you won’t fit, you tell Ellie, “Go, I’ll help clear the way and then find another way to the house.” She nods and begins to crawl, and you raise your gun and fire at the infected, trying your best to protect Ellie, doing what Joel asked of you. Hearing the more shots from above, you knew Joel was also clearing the way for Ellie.

When she crawls through the window, your mind begins to race. You need to find cover and fast. Finding another car, you duck behind it, reloading your gun as you do. You shouldn’t draw attention, and make as minimal noise as possible. The screams of rebels being attacked fill your ears as well as cars ramming over dozens of Infected. A Clicker approaches you but you push down your fear and side-step it, twisting your body and then shooting twice at its head. It falls limp to the ground, a Runner tries to grab you but you manage to hit it with the butt of your gun, shooting it straight in the head.

You hear a large growl from the crater, and turn your body to look for the noise. Motherfucker. A Bloater begins to emerge from the underground, completely covered in fungal armor plating, its belly sagging and spores popping out from each part of its body. The massive beast tears into the army like it's made of paper people. No amount of bullets will do any damage to the Bloater, and you have zero molotov cocktails, the best course of action was to get Ellie and run. You spot and see Ellie hastily crawl out of the van, a child clicker screaming from the inside of the car. You dart your eyes to see where Ellie is going and spot Henry and Sam surrounded by two Infected.

You sprint your way over there, helping Ellie get rid of the first Clicker and Joel shooting the second one from a distance. A thin layer of sweat covers the back of your neck, and you can feel the aching of your back, as you fight off another Clicker, its mouth screeching at you and trying to bite you. Another loud pop of a gunshot rings out and the Clicker goes limp, you take a large breath and grab Ellie, along with Sam and Henry. The young girl yells out, “Come on… come on! Go… Go!”

You make it out past all the chaos to the front area of the last house, as you run, you hear Kathleen shout, “Stop!” All of you turn to face her, she has a gun pointed directly at Henry. Your heart is racing, and your breathing rate rises rapidly, you bring your eyes to an infected crawling from behind the fence, and Kathleen turns to see what you’re looking at. She was too slow to react, the child Clicker shrieked and jumped on top of her, and the leader of the rebellion fell to the ground screaming. The creature thrashes and mauls her alive as she’s screeching for her life. A car crash you couldn’t turn away from, as you watched her get bit, mumbling under your breath, “Comeuppance.”

Joel makes his way downstairs and outside the house to find all of you frozen, he yells to get his group's attention, “This way now! Move!” Joel is the last to follow, ensuring everyone’s safety. Even from a large distance, you could hear the hundreds of clickers making their way into Kansas City, ready to infect and destroy the foundations they have built.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

With the fighting over, the five manage to find a safe refuge away from the carnage. A motel suite far away from the infected in the city, for now. The stars are a choir in the symphony of the black; they are lights that sing in limitless ways. Sometimes music is needed for the eyes, and the deeper the night, the sweeter the melody.

You, Joel, and Henry sit in the musty living room area. Henry is sitting on top of a bedside table, while Joel is sitting on the floor, one leg curled up to his chest while the other is stretched out, he has his back to the radiator, and you are next to him curled into a ball, elbows almost brushing, but they don’t. You can hear the chirping of crickets, indicating the bugs have come out to play and exchange stories. The only source of light is the yellow glow from the bedroom, you watch Ellie and Sam continue to read the comic book that they found from the settlement.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asks, still eating the remaining food you’ve packed. Joel nods, “Yeah, I think. It’s easier when you’re a kid anyway.” There’s an audible gulp as he swallows, “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.” Henry nods, “Well… I guess we’re doing a good job then.” Joel agrees, “What’s that comic book say? Endure and survive?” And the other man confirms it, “Endure and survive. That’s shits redundant.” Joel gives a breathy laugh, “Yeah, it’s not great.” Henry chuckles with him, “Yeah, no.”

You get up from the floor, not having the heart to tell them how they were wrong. Those kids now felt an enormous amount of responsibility for one another. And to survive means to stave off death, but to endure means to emotionally harden oneself, and tolerate the pain of survival. You begin to walk out the door of the room and Joel calls your name but you don’t turn around, he calls for you again, “Where are you goin’?” You don’t look at him as you lie through your teeth, “I’m just gonna go look at the stars for a bit. I’ll be right outside the door.” You exit the room after that, quietly shutting the door, and sitting on the pavement that faces the parking lot.

You let out a loud sigh, close your eyes, and cover them with your hands. You’re completely worn out, your mind is full but you can't speak, these tired gears, and you’re here somewhere between, drained from the events of today. You remove your hands from your face and take the gun out of your holster, letting it lay flat on the palms of your hand. The heavyweight of your decision rests on a single action.

You nervously lift the left sleeve of your jacket, the bitemarks of the infection are there, but there is no sign of it spreading, no yellowing or puss seeping out of your skin. Your mouth partially opens in shock and confusion, with only one thought in your mind. What the fuck?

You pull the sleeve of your jacket down. This doesn’t make any fucking sense. Then again, you’re in a supposed fictional world with its main cast of characters. None of it should make sense. But you figured, the rules would apply to you as well, that you could get infected. You felt ignorant, humiliated, and painfully unmagical. You are old enough to distinguish a sorceress from a lonely girl, and magic from survival. You make every effort to leave the past alone; it is the result of living in the between, the weight of your found family, and the pull of gravity.

You slowly form your hypothesis in your head as to why you’re immune. Could it be because you weren’t supposed to be here in the first place? You recall something from your previous research notes, ‘In theory, it could be possible to analyze the state of every atom in a person’s body and transmit it to a new location, where the person could be reassembled atom by atom.’

You take a large inhale and rest your head on your hand, which means needing enough information and processing power by using a quantum system, and while measuring, there are multiple possibilities, until the measurement is conducted. But that processing power would have needed an immense amount of energy.

In the tug of war between the tide, you were swept ashore like bottles holding prayers. The courage you contained, and the flutter of your earnest heart, will fill the silent seas, and it has restored a part of your memory. Radiation has become a key factor in the multiple theories you’ve read over the years. So when your atoms had been reassembled, your body must have also mutated and adapted to kill foreign infections, including the Cordyceps.

You hear the sound of the door closing and you don’t need to guess who was there behind you. With the heavy footsteps and sound of the rustling jacket, he quietly groans as he sits next to you on the pavement, the smell of ash and smoke exuding from his being. Joel notices the gun, which was now on your lap but he remains silent, not knowing what to say or do, while you’re deciding if you should share what you’ve discovered with him. You didn’t even register that you were bouncing your leg up and down again until he cautiously and slowly placed his hand on your knee, which caused you to stop the action.

You tilt your head to look at him, and he sees the clear glaze around your eyes, this moment, where you recognize you have no idea what the future holds anymore and the story you’ve been silently telling yourself about what the future is going to be like, has fallen apart in a matter of minutes. It doesn’t get replaced with any new information, it’s simply vanished, an atmospheric tumult. You find no comfort in this discovery, it's like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark and mistaking one stair for another. Your foot slips through the air, and you have a sickening moment of gloomy astonishment as you struggle to reset your perspective.

You are desperate for some kind of clue, this kind of fear of the unknown terrifies you, the sudden obliteration of expectation, the overwhelming feeling of frustration and fear builds up and rushes down like a rapid river stream. You bite down your lip to stop it from trembling and fold your hands to stop them from shaking. You’re trying to find the best way to avoid confrontation or conflict, but Joel still has his hand on your knee, not letting you get up and leave again without explaining yourself. You could be described as a great river, one which can carry everything along with them but with a hidden dammed-up reservoir of energy. You have very little access to it, due to feeling bad for rocking the boat. For this reason alone, you are generally tired all the time.

Take a deep breath to center yourself, willing yourself to not stutter, and you tell him word by word what you’ve discovered and the possibility of how you got into this world. He stays silent, listening to every word coming out of your mouth, even the science jargon he’s not used to. But what he does understand is, you’re immune just like Ellie. He’s still silent by the time you’re done, and you’re so nauseous that you might throw up on him. You turn away from him, waiting for him to lash out at you, scream and leave you behind. He takes his hand away from your knee, you feel the air in your lungs refusing to leave, and you shut your eyes, anticipating the warm body next to you to walk away.

Instead, he removes the gun from your lap and places it on the ground right next to him, then he holds your elbow cautiously and gently, and your eyes open in surprise, you watch him roll up your sleeve to see the bite completely faded, leaving an almost unnoticeable scar. He brings his eyes to yours and he anchors you down safely, there is rage in his eyes, and you quietly whisper, “Joel?”

You feel his hands squeezing your arm as he hissed at you, “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You should’ve known better than to go out there fightin’ all those infected. How could you be so reckless? What were you thinkin’?” You’re befuddled by his sudden lashing out, you narrow your eyes and try to uncover what he truly meant, and you try to calmly reply, “Joel, it’s okay... Next time, I’ll be more careful, and since I’m immune–” He talks over you, stern and unsmiling, “There will be no next time.” You pull back a little from him, “What? Are you serious? I’m immune and there was barely a scratch on me when the car–” He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his voice so cold as he says, “You got hurt. Twice. Because of me. Of what I did and keep asking you to do and you would’ve ended up like–”

You frown and can’t help the questions in your mind spiral, what if your injury had gotten worse or you hadn’t been immune? You could have turned. Just like Tess. Does he believe you’re her replacement? That you could be like her? Or you could end up like her?

You blink at him, putting more distance between you two, there is a war inside of you, you are out of depth at this altitude, it’s suffocating you, and feel your walls cave in. Your throat closes up at the thought of him thinking you were like her, that you could ever be her replacement, and your voice is soft and vulnerable as you admit the words you never wanted to say, “Joel… I’m not her. I’m not Tess.” He flinches and recognizes the hurt in your tone, and his heart sinks to his stomach faster than a stone hitting the bottom of a lake. You turn away from him, not wanting to give in to his warmth and strong protective nature, “I’m not her.”

The absence of sound between you two is deafening and consuming all that it touches. In your mind, you beg for it to stop, the need to fill the gaps with a problem you both don’t need. With folded arms and tired eyes, you try your hardest not to cry. The heavy ache in his chest leaves him restless and unable to find the right words to say. Sensing that there was nothing left to say, you stand up and turn to walk away but Joel grabs your wrist and you bring yourself to look at him to see his eyes silently pleading for you to stay. You bite the inside of your cheek and sit back down, expecting Joel to let go but he doesn’t. This causes you to lift your eyes and find him with his mouth open, trying his best to communicate with you without his pride and anger getting in the way of something good.

“You’re right, you aren’t Tess.” He said with his voice low, and can’t help the tears spill out from the rim of your eyes, you whip your head away from him, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp but he doesn’t let up, “Joel, let go of me.” He doesn’t, instead, he holds you tighter and says, “You aren’t Tess, Birdie. You are so much more than that… You are one of the good in my life that I… Hummin’ bird, I don’t know what I’d do if…”

He has trouble continuing, him admitting fragments of what he said shook you to your core. You’re incredibly clever but it takes you a while to process what he meant, so you tilt your head and try to see past his defenses, with these tall invisible walls he keeps himself in. You try to understand his perspective, it is why your mouth forms an ‘o’, not a gasp but the start of, oh, of course. He doesn’t see you as her. But he is angry, yes, but not at you, at himself. He wasn’t able to fully protect you. He made the tough call of crashing the car into the laundromat and you got hurt in the process. And then specifically asked you to watch over Ellie for him and you got bitten because of what he asked you to do.

You slowly lift your other hand to rest on his cheek, and he flinches, but after a moment he allows himself to relax, unsure and clumsy, you say, “Joel. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine. I’m alive. I’m here with you. See?” You feel the want of thrill, of taking a risk. The pleasure of feeling the rush as feel yourself grow warmer. You let it happen.

The cracks begin to show, he feels his restraint slipping away, brick by brick and piece by piece. His struggle is not anymore with you, but with himself, his fears and desires, and the cognitive dissonance arising within. God, he’s so afraid, he wants so badly for his selfishness to win, and chooses to flutter his eyes close, with your hand still on his cheek, gently stroking his face, and for once, he thinks to himself, just for tonight, he leans closer to your touch, letting you become his sanctuary.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – DAY

You had fallen asleep on the dark green carpeted floor next to Joel, using both of your jackets as pillows. Joel had moved in his sleep again and curled himself around you. His heavy warm arms wrapped around your waist and the ghost of his breath on your neck.

A loud thump and the sound of Ellie screaming jolts you and Joel awake. You sit up and see Sam tackle Ellie out the door of their bedroom. She hits the carpet, trying to fight off Sam, who’s scratching and shrieking at her, he has turned into the first stage of the infection. Ellie’s yells are piercing through your ears and you crawl to reach for the gun next to you, only for Henry to snatch it before you.

“Nope!” Henry says as he aims the gun at you and Joel, and Ellie is shrieking your names, for you and Joel to save her. You and Joel have a look of pure rage as you both try and take a step forward only for Henry to shoot at the floor, causing both of you to flinch back. Ellie tries again, wailing and crying out your names, and it only takes a second, before Henry turns the gun and shoots Sam right through the head. Blood splatters on the wall and the young superhero goes limp on the ground.

Your entire body is trembling, while Ellie is kneeling on the ground, looking at Sam’s lifeless body, you look at Henry, who is whimpering and sobbing, he blinks and watches his little brother’s blood stain the carpet, like spilling ink. Joel is heavily breathing and focuses on the young girl, “Ellie,” she turns numbly at him, “Are you okay?” He goes walk towards her, only for Henry to point the revolver at Joel’s head. Without a second thought, you step forward, protecting Joel from Henry. You raise your hands in front of you and plead, “Henry, easy, easy… Henry, please give me the gun.” His breath is shaking and erratic as he asks, “What did I do?” You try and calm him down, “Henry…” He doesn’t listen and still asks, “What did I do? What… what did I do?” He looks down at Sam’s limp and still body, the blood still pooling onto the carpet. A dark shade of maroon continued to seep out from his skull. “Sam?” He asks, lips quivering and his eyes full of fear, he looks back over to you, and you wail, “Henry, please don’t–”

He aims the pistol at his head, and you swore you saw before you blinked. There was no second thought, no going back or erasing. An avalanche now spent in white flag waking days. The loud pop, thud, and shriek follow in a sequence that will haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life, a memory wielded as a weapon. Every good intention is overshadowed by the stain of the past. Death is a blindfolded, bitter kiss. It's the finger put against your lips, emphasizing how they should have lived.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

OUTSIDE THE ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – DAY

You and Joel are outside, and the sound of shoveling dirt is a sound you’ve now grown to despise. The cold wind moves in only to meet the warmth of your blood, the only defense you have left. You feel it wash over your skin, again and again, only to be met by the beat of your aching heart. Fairness is a ghost, and its sightings take shape in such permanent truth. In the sullen silence, you were all taking turns shattering apart.

Ellie had gone back inside the motel room to get the rest of your things as you and Joel patted down the dirt, creating a small graveyard for the two brothers. If you could turn back the hourglass, you would. Reset every grain of sand, and give these two a proper chance at living the life they should have lived, you would. Your mind continues to spin webs of question marks and regrets as you stop your movements and stand there with instability. Ellie toses two backpacks on the ground, you watch her kneel on one knee and place the doodle pad on Sam’s grave, with ‘I’m Sorry’ written on it, the string of the pen is wrapped around the top and the pen is safely tucked in, making sure no one else will be able to write anything else.

Ellie stands up and asks Joel, “Which way’s west?” He only responds by tilting his head in the direction of it. She’s the first to walk away this time, a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury her innocence. You and Joel say nothing as you stare at the note, and hear her call for you both, “Let’s go.”

You both drop your shovels and grab your things, catching up to Ellie. Your steady true north fades, the three of you walking toward where the sun sleeps and casting your silhouettes as you do. Maybe there’s no answer here, at least neither one of you are ready to hear. No string of words will justify it or a simple equation to show you the solution and answer. In the meantime, you learn that you don’t have all the answers, just a little light to call your own, though sometimes it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

I am a hundred percent sure this was the fastest chapter I’ve written and felt so much easier than Episode 4 ohMYGAHD

HOW ARE WE FEELING?? ARE YOU GUYS OKAY??? DRINK SOME WATER BREATHEEE

YAY YOU’RE IMMUNE CONGRATS AHHH *confetti canon*

Wait why r u not happy you’re immune- oh right, you don't know what's gonna happen to you now that you have that information and it doesn't add anything good— it just makes you feel bad lol that sucks (the sudden obliteration of expectation) cause you’ve been telling a narrative you’ve always known and it’s changed and you have no fricken clue what's next

DID I GO BACK AND FORTH WONDERING IF THE READER SHOULD BE IMMUNE: YEP, A LOT… IT KEPT ME UP TILL 4 AM AND I CHOSE THIS BCS tbh it makes sense (??) you’re already a hecking anomaly, might as well be immune too :> Also, I’d like to hope this decision helped the story progress further… I think

Did the science make sense?? I hope so, I researched a lot on quantum teleportation and its possibilities. In theory, yes it’s probable. If you can manage to send every information about the atoms in your body, then send it to a specific time and place, which would take a massive amount of energy and processing power to do, yes u can teleport hooray! I'm just gonna assume radiation plays a part in the energy aspect and then since fungal infections can’t withstand that amount of heat from the radiation and your body has adapted— yeah you get the rest. (You’re not glowing radiation, it's just your immune system can fight the fungi lol)

I know a lot of people are gonna be rolling their eyes and saying, “why am I immune, goSH, so cliCHE, Y/N? knOWS ASL TOO?? WHY AM I SO SPECIAL?? I want to get bitten and be useless and not connect with anY chAracters–” well pretty thing, you’re one of the main characters! Ofc you’re special, you freaking discovered how to get to the TLOU world, I can’t have you dying on me… yet… silly!

Joel is having internal conflict with literally with his feelings about Ellie and yOU <3 I hope I portrayed that properly and well enough. Lowkey needed to write the miscommunication part because that question of if you were just a replacement for Tess was brewing in the back of your mind. Joel being him can’t fully express his feelings properly, so you settle for the broken sentences he has to offer and piece together the shards to find clues of what he means. Later on, it will be easier for him but for now, you both take baby steps.

But God writing that part had so many revisions and played every single possible scenario in my head— constantly questioning if it was good enough. Like was the thing I was trying to do between the reader and Joel natural and seamless? Did this conflict get resolved at all? Did I do this too soon?? Idk I’m just trying my best and I’m a sucker for Joel giving in bit by bit T^T (i mean i didn't make them kiss yet so I'm assuming wasn’t so rUSHED)

This episode centered around Joel rethinking his relationship with Ellie and YOU hehe. But I did want to give Sam and Henry the spotlight they deserved as well. I tried my best to find the balance in all of this, I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone with this chapter :<<

oKAY INTO EPISODE 6 I GO, time to rewatch the pain again T^T

Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe@missdragon-1 @ponyboys-sunsets @ipadkidsworld @otternanamilolo @issybee0611 @technicallysassyfox @cupcakemachete

#uneven odds joel miller #joel miller x reader series #joel miller x poc!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x modern reader #unevenoddstaglist #unevenodds #uneven odds #alternate universe #joel miller x reader tlou #tlou rewrite #tlou remake #tlou series #tlou #tlou hbo

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burntheedges-updates · 10 months

Text

over again, chapter 2

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, light flirting, touching hands, hugs, cold/illness, light angst, a teensy bit of pining, teacher!reader (no specific details given in fic, it’s just your job from Before) a/n: This is Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice. I’ve done my best with the overall TLOU (show) timeline, but I can’t find a timeline that has the specific dates/months that Joel and Ellie passed through Jackson and returned. For the purposes of this fic they pass through in late November, 2023, and come back in April, 2024 (ish). Enjoy. :) word count: 7.4k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | chapter 1 || chapter 3

Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice

Jackson, Spring 2024

You’ve been in Jackson almost four months when Joel and Ellie return. You have a couple of friends, but it hasn’t really been long enough to establish yourself in the community. You’re a bit of a loner. You mostly talk to Tommy, Maria, and some of the others who work the same jobs you do. Tommy vouched for you, which seems to have given you a real in with some of the people here, but you have to put in the work.

You’re still floating, still trying to settle, and not at all ready to return to teaching. You know Tommy told Maria about what you did Before but neither of them have bugged you about it. The idea of walking into a classroom fills you with both longing and dread and for now you’re still avoiding it completely. You and Tommy have both been surprised at how much you like working outdoors – you were truly an indoors-only person Before. The first time he caught you standing in a pile of horse manure three months ago he doubled over laughing and almost fell in it himself. You’re still getting used to being around someone who knows you so well.

Maria is slowly warming up to you, but she’s been a little distant since she realized stories about what Joel (and Tommy, not that she seems to mind that part) has been up to in the last 20 years don’t seem to phase you. You aren’t good enough friends yet to tell her the things you’ve done, the things you regret and the things you don’t. It’s not like you’ve been an angel yourself. You’re not surprised to learn that Joel did whatever it took to protect people, to survive and save his last remaining family member. You can imagine who he became when he thought you were dead along with Sarah. It’s the same thing that happened to you, after all. The same transformation.

After that first meeting at the gates (when you barely said anything at all to each other before Tommy swept all three of you away, ignoring Ellie’s obvious curiosity and her elbow to Joel’s side as you stared at each other in the road, unmoving) you don’t get a chance to really talk with Joel for a couple of days. You get it – you know Joel, the Dad. He’s settling Ellie in and your heart clenches because you can remember what he was like with Sarah. You haven’t thought about Sarah this much in years.

(That’s a lie – you think about her every single day. But not like this, with two people nearby who knew her, too. It’s different somehow and it’s making you feel things you thought you’d forgotten how to feel. It’s probably best for you to get over that feeling, that hurt, that initial reaction at a distance. You don’t want it to touch Ellie. She doesn’t know you.)

So Joel and Ellie move back into their house, which happens to be next door to yours because Tommy Miller will stop meddling when he’s dead. You don’t talk to Ellie that first day, but you and Joel make eye contact as he stands on his front porch and you stand in the road where Tommy just left you. His eyes are soft and dark and so familiar (and longed for) that it hurts. He takes a hesitant step towards you and speaks his first real words to you in 20 years. The sound of his voice still sends shivers down your spine.

“Can we– I can’t today, I’m sorry, I have to– Ellie–“

“I know, Joel,” you interrupt. “She needs to settle in, and she doesn’t know who I am. Take care of that first.” When you say his name you see it hit him and pin him in place. It was the same for you back at the gate. You drift a little closer to their porch steps.

“I’ve had a little bit longer to sit with the idea that– that you’re still alive. I’ve been here a few months. I’m not going anywhere, ok? We can talk later. Maybe in a couple of days?”

As you talk he’s searching your face and you feel yourself doing the same. Looking for the person you knew Before. At your offer, he looks relieved.

“Yeah, darlin’. In a couple of days.”

You can’t hide your reaction to the endearment or the feeling that washes over you, once-familiar and almost frightening as it echoes from Before. You think he might have surprised himself with it, too. When’s the last time he called anyone that? Maybe the last time you heard it. For a moment you just stare at each other.

It takes Ellie poking her head out the door to jumpstart you both back into action.

Joel heads inside and you head home, but you can hear her start to grill him about you as they close the door. (Who the hell is that?) It makes you smile.

…

You spend that night staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, completely unable to sleep. Joel is here, alive, probably 50 feet away from you and just knowing that keeps you awake. The following day you move from your house to work and back again in a daze, avoiding the dining hall, trying not to stare at their house or worry that Joel is avoiding you when you don’t see them. By the next morning, two mostly sleepless nights since Joel and Ellie walked through the gates of Jackson, you’re exhausted. You get dressed and find yourself standing in your front hallway, talking yourself down from going to lean on Tommy for some information. It’s only been two days, like 36 hours, get a fucking grip.

It’s convenient, then, that you’re so close to the door when someone unexpectedly knocks on it. As you open it, your heart leaps into your throat.

Joel Miller is on your porch. He looks flustered and worried. You can tell he’s been running his hands through his hair – it’s messy and going every which way, just like it used to whenever he was anxious about something. The only difference now is the brown is shot through with gray.

“Joel? Is everything alright?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth you feel a bit of deja vu, but you have no time to analyze the feeling before he steps towards you and you lose track of the thought at his proximity. You step back to let him in.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I know we need to talk, but Ellie’s come down with something when we got back. I’ve been taking care of her. I didn’t want you to think I’ve been avoiding you.”

He’s twisting his hands together in front of him as he speaks and you notice one is shaking. You almost reach out to rest your hands on top of his to soothe him, but you stop yourself. You’re not ready to touch him like that and you doubt he’s ready to be touched. You clench your hands into fists and hide them behind your back instead.

“Oh no, is she alright? Do you need anything?”

You realize as you offer that you don’t know what help you, an outsider, could provide — everything is different than it was Before, when you would have been in the same house helping with the sick child from the start. You haven’t even really been around kids in years. It’s a weird feeling and you’re not sure what to do with it.

Joel shakes his head. “No, we’re fine, Tommy brought some things by yesterday and this morning, she’s already on the upswing.” He crosses his arms and sighs, looking down at the ground between you unhappily. “But I need to go talk to Maria and some others, and Tommy needs to be there with me, and, well. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind sitting with her for a bit?”

He looks up at you from under his eyelashes, a hesitant look on his face. “Or, um, sitting in the house, just in case she needs something. She’s in bed, you could stay on the couch. I know you don’t know each other yet but I wouldn’t ask anyone else here to do this.”

It doesn’t escape you that he said yet, that he implied you will get to know Ellie. It wakes something in you, something painful and raw and long-dormant, something you haven’t felt in 20 years. You have the sudden urge to run and hide and you twist your fingers behind your back, willing your feet to stay right where they are. It’s different somehow from the wave of emotion you felt a few months ago, sitting on the ground, tangled in your sleeping bag, shocked at the news that this man was still alive. It’s a feeling you’ve been running from since you realized Sarah must be dead.

But you’ve basically never said no to this man, not about anything important. You aren’t going to start now.

“Of course, Joel. I’ll follow you over.” That feeling of deja vu is back, and you wonder if he isn’t feeling it too, as he tilts his head at you with a contemplative look on his face. He nods and thanks you and turns to go.

You suddenly realize you’ve been reading his expressions and mannerisms this whole time and you don’t seem to have lost your fluency with it. You wonder if he can still read you just as well, and if he can, what he’s seeing. You’re not sure, yourself. You can’t imagine what you’re giving away.

You shut the door behind him and take a moment, forehead resetting against the wood, to just breathe.

…

When you arrive at the house next door, Joel calls for you to come in from somewhere upstairs and you take a moment to look around. They haven’t even been there two days and they already have some belongings visible in the living room. The kitchen is in a bit of disarray, the way it normally gets when a kid is sick. That feeling that almost sent you running hits again, like an echo. You close your eyes against the memories of Sarah and you miss Joel reappearing at the top of the stairs until he calls your name softly.

He’s stopped halfway down the stairs and beckons for you to follow him back up. You do and he leads you down the hall to what is clearly Ellie’s room – he goes straight in and sits beside her on the bed as you linger in the doorway.

“Ellie, this is—“

“I know who she is, Joel, you already told me,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes and then coughing a bit. The look of disdain she gives him is so classic teenager it takes your breath away. It’s so easy to recall Sarah doing the same thing. You can picture the same look on her face.

You breathe slowly through it and hope your reaction doesn’t show. You smile, weakly. Ellie is stone faced in response, and she glances at Joel, looking to him to take the lead. He’s looking at you. You gather yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie, I’m sorry you’re feeling shitty.” She looks a little amused at your description but she doesn’t laugh. She’s clearly wary of you, which is fair. “I’m just going to be downstairs on the couch, call if you need anything, ok?”

With that you turn and head back downstairs, and you can see the relief in her expression as you do. You’re also relieved. She’s not comfortable around strangers, and for you the role of babysitter is sitting uncomfortably on your shoulders like an old coat that you outgrew and haven’t touched in years. You imagine it’s worse for her when she’s not feeling great.

You hear their low voices for a few minutes and then Joel reappears on the stairs, brow furrowed.

“Are you sure she’s ok with this? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” You have to ask.

He looks at you and his brow relaxes, softening a bit. “It’s fine. She’s done nothing but sleep and grill me about you for the last two days, coughing the whole time. She’s just not so great with strangers. I think her curiosity’ll take over, she always wants to know everything. Besides, she’ll probably fall asleep.” You nod as he moves past you towards the door. To your surprise, he reaches out to touch your arm, so softly and briefly you wonder if he even makes contact or if you’re imagining it. You shiver, resisting the urge to hug your arms across your chest. You know it would look like a rejection. “It should only be a couple of hours.”

“We’ll be fine, Joel.” Through the open front door you see Tommy waiting for him outside, and he nods and winks at you before he and Joel make their way towards the center of town. You roll your eyes in response.

…

You spend the first fifteen minutes after they leave sitting on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing. Something about this feels so much like Before it’s making you anxious, but you’re exhausted and you’ve spent 20 years burying or shying away from those memories. You can’t immediately recall why. When it gets to be too much you stand and head into the kitchen, looking for something to do with your hands. Thankfully there’s a pile of dishes waiting for you.

You’re almost done with the dishes, successfully avoiding thinking too hard about Before – or now, or anything at all – when you hear something and turn off the water to listen more closely. You hear your name called softly from upstairs and immediately dry your hands to go see what Ellie needs.

When you arrive in her doorway she’s sitting up and fidgeting.

“Hey, what do you need?” You put what is hopefully a neutral and helpful look on your face. You haven’t dealt with a teenager in decades but you remember well how they see through pretense. Sarah never turned down a chance to call any of you on your bullshit.

She eyes you for a moment, glancing back at her lap where she’s gripping the blanket tightly, before saying, “Can I– Can I ask you some questions? About Before.”

Your eyes widen a little, you can’t help it, but you don’t want to shut her down. Before she can take your expression, whatever it is, as a rejection you say yes and move a little further into the room. She tenses.

“Sorry, I’ll stay over here. Can I get a chair?” She regards you silently for a moment, and then points to the corner to your right where you haven’t looked yet. There’s a chair with a jacket slung over the back. You nod and take a seat.

“Ask away.”

She’s quiet for a moment, looking like she’s thinking. “So you were going to get married, Before. Right?”

You nod. “Right. Joel proposed in 2002, in December. He meant to do it on New Year’s Eve but he couldn’t wait and proposed early.” Ellie snorts, and then coughs a little bit. You keep yourself from moving towards her to hand her the glass of water on her nightstand. She doesn’t know you. And she’s a teenager, not a little kid. She’s older than Sarah. Don’t think about it.

“That sounds… romantic?” Her tone says that the idea of Joel doing something romantic is so outlandish as to be impossible.

You smile, a little bit sadly. “I know I’m different now, so I imagine he is, too. But he was always a huge romantic. We knew each other for a while before we actually got together, but once we were dating, it was like he couldn’t help it.” You’re suddenly glad you’ve had three months to think about him being alive. This conversation would have felt impossible when you first arrived in Jackson. Now it’s possible, just difficult.

“What, did he like, give you flowers?” The look on her face says she considers this unbelievable and slightly offensive, which reminds you so strongly of 13-year old Sarah you have to take a deep breath. You look away to make it seem like you need to think.

“No, well, he did a few times. But it was other things.”

“Like what?”

“He… well, he took me dancing. For our first date, and then pretty often afterwards.”

“Dancing?” She’s incredulous. “No way, I refuse to believe that old man can dance.”

You can’t help but grin. “Yeah, dancing. That old man has moves.”

She scoffs and asks what else, clearly moving on from the dancing. For now, you assume.

“Well, we were both bad at remembering dates, but he never let an important date pass without doing something special anyway. He used to do little things for me before I even noticed they needed to be done, especially around the house. He never held back from telling me how he felt. He made it clear how important I was to him, and how much he liked having me in his life, by making space for me in it. I don’t know how much you want to hear about it, but … yeah, the man’s a romantic. No question.” You pause, and smile a little wryly. “Tommy can back me up, and his version’ll probably be way funnier. At our expense.” You feel something inside you start to thaw as you let yourself remember Joel this way.

Ellie looks like she's trying to hide a smile, which you count as a win. Then her expression shifts, and something makes you a little wary with how she sets her shoulders, readying herself to ask another question.

“D'you want to get back together?” The look on her face says she isn’t sure that’s what she wants. Not at all.

You suddenly feel like you’re on a tightrope. You’re out of breath even though you haven’t moved an inch. You know you have to give the right answer here. But you aren’t even sure what it is for yourself, let alone for Ellie. Before you saw Joel at the gates you’d decided you wouldn’t let this second chance pass you by, but what does that actually mean, practically? For the people you are now?

“Ok, that’s a tough question, and no, I’m not blowing you off. I’m just going to be honest, ok?” You look down, lacing your hands together in your lap.

“Joel and I were so in love, like head over heels for each other, 20 years ago. We both thought the other person died, and our kid did die. I’m… in shock right now. I think he is, too. I found out he was alive a few months ago, he found out I’m alive two days ago. Nothing feels straightforward or clear." You squeeze your hands together and clear your throat.

“I think we knew each other well enough to know what our lives might have been like in between, what we might have done. Or had to do. Maybe we imagined it sometimes. Um.” You pause to take a deep breath and glance up. Ellie is looking down at her hands. You can’t tell how this is going over with her but you keep going anyway.

“To answer your question… I never stopped loving him. He’s the love of my life. But I can’t say for sure what we’ll do until we talk, which we will at some point. It’s– it’s been too long to assume anything. To think everything is the same.” Your hands are shaking. You think you might be rambling, so you pause to get back on track.

“But that’s not the most important thing right now. You need to get better and you both need to settle in, you know? That’s his focus. As it should be. And I know he’ll talk to you about it. Whatever happens. I’m sorry I don’t have a– a clear answer.”

Your heart is beating fast as you finish. You can feel it in your throat.

Ellie is frowning as she meets your eyes again. She looks lost, her voice almost a whisper as she says, “I don’t… he has Tommy. And now you.” This admission clearly costs her, and she crosses her arms and looks away from you.

Suddenly you think you understand the conversation you’ve been having. You’re surprised and a little warmed by the fact that she was willing to say that to you at all.

“Ellie, I might not know everything about what Joel’s life has been like for the last 20 years – not yet, anyway – but I do know what that man looks like when he’s being a parent.” You think you see her suck in a breath at your words. You swallow and continue, “it looks the same now as it did then. And yeah, you don’t know me, but I knew him, and going by my own experience? That part of him is still in there. I can see it. As far as that man is concerned, you’re his kid. No question about it. And that’s not something we take back. It just is, ok? It’s forever and it’s unconditional. I promise you, it never goes away. Not for us.”

…

After your conversation with Ellie, which you’re hoping went well but you’re honestly not sure, you’re completely wrung out and over your own feelings. You spend about 45 minutes puttering around the kitchen and living room to avoid feeling any more of them before you hear footsteps on the porch.

Joel opens the door, looking around and spotting you quickly. He looks worried, but his expression clears a little when he finds you sitting at the kitchen table. “Hey, everything alright?”

“Yes, everything's fine. She didn’t have another coughing fit, we chatted for a little bit and then she fell back asleep.” His eyebrows raise when you say you talked to Ellie. As he takes the seat across from you his boot nudges yours under the table and then moves away. You try to ignore the effect that tiny touch has on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It went well, I think? You’ll probably hear about it either way.” You finish with a little bit of a rueful smile, hoping she’s warming up to you and not the opposite.

Joel smiles a bit in response. “Thank you again, darlin’. I couldn’t put them off anymore and I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be here with her.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“To be honest with you, I’m still in shock that you’re here for me to ask. I… well. It feels a little bit too good to be true.” He looks uncertain as he says it. You nod. You feel the same way.

“I know. I… it’s kind of surreal? I want…” you hesitate, but he’s watching you like nothing could be more important than how you finish that sentence. You decide to just let it all out. It’s worked for you so far today.

“I know it’s been 20 years, Joel, but part of me has felt like everything is the same from the moment I saw you, which is confusing as hell, because the other part of me knows it can’t be and it isn’t. You don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t know what you’ve done. We’re not the same people. Even if it feels like it. Even if looking at you and hearing your voice feels—“ You clear your throat and look away.

“Even if it feels the same. Even if I want… Even if…” you trail off, not sure if you’re ready to finish that sentence, after all. You realize you’re gripping your hands together so tight it hurts, and you slowly relax them and flatten them on the table in front of you. You take a breath before continuing, gaze trained on your hands.

“It’s like we hit pause 20 years ago and neither of us knew for sure what happened so there was no closure, no clear explanation. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know how to bridge that time with now. How to remember that version of me, the one you knew, and be this me. How to… Joel, so much happened, and I imagined so many versions of you. What our lives would have been like.” You take a deep breath. “I guess that’s what we need to talk about.”

You look over, gaze low to avoid his eyes, and see Joel is clenching his fists a bit, like he’s holding back. You’d like to think it’s from reaching towards you but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t assume you’re reading him as well as you think you are. Maybe you need to spend more time reminding yourself of the things you don’t know about this man.

Before your thoughts can spiral too far, though, he does reach out. You watch as his fists relax and you track the movement of his hand as it lifts from the table and slowly extends towards yours. He’s trembling, you notice, and then you realize you are too. You can’t tear your eyes away as his fingertips lightly touch the back of your left hand where it rests on the table. You feel all of the hair on your arms stand up in response.��

“Darlin’, I…” he pauses, and you both hold your breath as your eyes meet.

Time slows to a crawl. He puts more gentle pressure into your connection, sliding his hand over the back of yours, touching you with intent for the first time in two decades. His thumb moves lightly back and forth over your wrist, a soothing motion. All of your focus narrows to that point of connection, even as his gaze pins you in place. You can’t look away.

Holy hell. His hand fully covers yours and squeezes. After the two barely-there touches you’ve shared today it feels almost obscene. His hand on yours in the present calls up memories of his hands on you Before and you're dizzy, spinning through your memories. You didn’t know you could still feel this way. Not even for Joel.

He opens his mouth to say something and your gaze drops to his lips. You’re desperate to hear it, whatever it is, when suddenly the moment pops like a soap bubble as the more annoying Miller sticks his head in the front door.

“Joel! I brought food. Oh! Hey there, sunshine.” He greets you, and then grins at you. “Am I interrupting something?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, which is so absurd it kickstarts you back into motion. You need to get out of here.

“No!” You say a bit too loudly as you leap to your feet, breaking your connection with Joel. You feel its absence immediately. Your hand is tingling. “I should get going, I don’t want to intrude and I want Ellie to be comfortable so she can get better. Joel, I– do you want–“

He interrupts you and catches your eye to hold you in place, but he doesn’t move his hands from the table. “Yes, I do.” You’re glad he does. You aren’t actually sure what you were going to ask, but at least you’re in agreement about it, whatever it is. “We still need to talk. I’ll find you tomorrow?”

You nod, a bit wildly. “I’ll be at the stables all day but I should be home around four.” He smiles at you, starting to stand, and you make a beeline for the door, elbowing Tommy a bit as you pass him. He makes a big show of staggering away, moaning and overselling it, but he deserves it anyway.

As you turn onto the road, you can’t help but glance back at the house you’ve just left. The sight that greets you stops you in your tracks – Joel is leaning against his own open door frame, arms crossed, looking pensive as he watches you walk home.

Suddenly it hits you, your tired mind finally recalling the reason for all of the deja vu, and your spine stiffens as you inhale quickly in surprise. You almost call out to ask Joel if he remembers. He has to, right? It’s basically what got you together Before and the similarities are almost too much for you to believe. Your eyes move down and back up, looking around the porch, taking him in. All it took to break the tension the first time around and get you to actually start something together was a sick kid.

As you meet his eyes again you’re sure that you’re both remembering it. He can see your moment of realization, and after that moment in the kitchen, you know he can still read you. The expression on his face is complex but you see affection and regret, weighed down by all the memories you share. He tilts his head and smiles at you, a bit ruefully. You smile in response, hugging your arms around yourself.

All of your nerves and your worries about your upcoming conversation fall away – you still have enough in common with this man that you can have this conversation, without words, 20 feet apart. 20 years apart.

A moment ago you felt like the last few hours had scraped to the bottom of your emotional reserves and left you empty. But the smile you and Joel share sparks something inside you and you’re filled with a sweet, tentative anticipation that you barely know what to do with. It’s been years since you felt anything like it.

Tomorrow.

…

Austin, Spring 2001

You were setting your coffee down on your desk, mentally starting your to-do list, when you were surprised by a knock at your front door.

A peek through your curtains revealed your neighbor, Joel Miller, pacing agitatedly on your front porch.

Ever since you met on the day you moved in almost six months ago Joel had been nothing but welcoming. And from the moment you met his eyes that day you knew you were in trouble.

In some ways, you were typical, friendly neighbors. You saw the Millers almost every day, if only to wave at each other from your driveways on busy mornings. You’d been over to babysit Sarah for a short afternoon or evening a few times. They even had you over for a welcome-to-town dinner early on and you’d traded dinner at each other’s homes about once a month after that.

But what was going to get you in trouble was Joel the Handyman. He did end up fixing some of your bookshelves after the movers broke them – stop apologizing, darlin’, I told you I’m happy to help – which led to him fixing more and more things around your house. Every time he came over to fix something he would spot another creaky cabinet door or leaky faucet or crooked light fixture and promise to come back another day to take care of it. You’d swear he came over to fix something every week. At this point you were surprised there was anything left to fix.

You always sat nearby while he worked and the two of you talked about anything and everything – whatever funny thing your students had done that week, how Sarah was doing (with school and with soccer and with everything else), Joel’s frustrations at work, Tommy’s latest escapades. Sometimes it felt like Joel knew more about you and your day-to-day life than anyone, since your friendships at work were still new and you’d moved far away from everyone who knew you at home when you took this job. You always ended up talking for much longer than it took Joel to finish whatever task he’d had in mind, usually sitting together on your back porch or at your kitchen table until he absolutely had to go.

(His visits also gave you the opportunity to watch him work – to watch him flex his shoulders and arms and to admire the muscles in his back and thighs, (mostly) unnoticed. You’d feel bad about it if you hadn’t caught him with his gaze locked on your legs in your house shorts more than once. And then there was the time he’d come over to fix the ceiling fan – he’d climbed a ladder in your living room while you stood nearby to hand him his tools. His chest had been only a foot or so away from your face and when he’d raised his arms his t-shirt had lifted far, far above his jeans. You’d lost track of the conversation, eyes locked on the dark trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his exposed briefs. You’d vaguely thanked whatever deity might be out there that he had forgotten to wear a belt that day. As he stood on his toes and shifted his hips his jeans had slipped a little lower, showing you just a hint of an outline of something you had to stop yourself from picturing. You’d gone quiet, distracted and far away until he coughed lightly and your eyes shot back up to his face.

“Still with me, darlin?” He’d smirked at you, knowingly, but had gotten right back to work after, continuing the conversation like nothing had happened.)

It felt like you were always catching each other trading looks. The flirtation you’d started that day next to the moving truck hadn’t turned into anything more, but it also hadn’t faded into anything less.

Pacing on your porch that morning, Joel looked as handsome as always, but he was clearly distressed. His normally only somewhat unruly curly hair stood on end as if he’d been tugging at it.

“Morning Joel, something I can do for you?” you asked as you swung the door open and invited him in. Despite how frequently he’d been in your home to fix things it was still a surprise to see him before 8:00 AM on a Tuesday.

“I’m sorry to bother you, darlin’, but I’m in a bit of a bind. Are you working from home today?” Joel asked as he stepped inside.

“Yes, is everything alright?” It was clear that Joel was trying to be polite but something was making him more anxious than you’d ever seen him. He was alternately twisting his hands together or running his hands through his hair as he shifted his weight.

“It’s Sarah. She—“

“Oh no, what happened?”

“She’s just sick, so she can’t go to school but Tommy can’t be here today and I have to go to a job site for a couple of hours. I managed to reschedule some meetings but not everything. Could you possibly come work over at mine for a bit, keep an eye on her? She’ll probably sleep the whole time, you know, but I just don’t want her to be alone, she’s not old enough yet–”

“Joel, of course, I’d be happy to,” you cut him off, trying to reassure him with a smile. “Take your time, I’ve just got a day of grading and reading planned. I can be there for her if she needs me.”

The look of sheer relief that broke across Joel’s face surprised you as he leaned forward, grabbing your shoulders and resting his forehead against yours. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh thank you so much, darlin’. I swear I’ll call as soon as I’m on my way back. Do you need help grabbing anything?”

As he stepped back Joel raised his left hand and trailed his thumb across your cheek lightly, almost so light you couldn’t feel it, then brushed his fingertips down your neck. You felt your focus narrow to the point where he touched your face before he stepped away, putting more space between you. Your whole body shivered. This is not the time for that. You blinked a few times.

“Oh, um, no I’ve got it. I’ll pack up and be there in a minute.” Get it together.

…

About 10 minutes later you were raising your hand to knock at the Millers’ front door when Joel flung it open in front of you and invited you in.

“Sarah’s back asleep upstairs,” he said in a low voice, “but I woke her up when I got back to let her know you’re here. Feel free to set up wherever you’d like. You can check on her in about an hour – I wrote down what meds she’s had and when she can have them again over here on the counter. I’ll call you in a couple of hours. But call me if you need anything at all, ok? And if she gets worse. And you know where everything is, I know–“

“Joel. Don’t worry, we got this.” You smiled and reached out to squeeze his upper arm, trying to reassure him.

“I know you do, I know, it’s just—“ he looked worriedly up the stairs before he sighed, shoulders dropping a little, and quickly rubbing his hands over his face. He started to turn towards the door.

“I know, Joel. It’s Sarah. But I got this, ok? I’m here for you.”

Joel paused, midway through his turn towards the door, and looked back at you. He tilted his head as he considered you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I know, darlin’. You always are.” He said, almost too quietly for you to hear. “I’ll —“

“You’ll call me, I know. Now get out of here, Joel Miller.” You pointed playfully at the door. Joel cracked the first weak smile you’d seen on him all morning, nodded his head, and left.

…

You’d been working your way through your students’ papers for about 45 minutes when there was some movement upstairs. You quickly set everything down on the couch and moved towards the stairs. “Sarah? Are you awake, sweetheart?” You heard a quiet response but couldn’t quite make it out, so you headed up the stairs to check on her.

You found Sarah sitting on her bed, looking a bit woozy and still mostly asleep. “Hi. I have to pee but I’m kinda dizzy.” Her voice was soft and scratchy and she sounded congested.

“Let me help you. I’ll get you some water after, alright? And you can have more medicine and get back to sleep until lunch.” Sarah nodded sleepily and leaned on you as you moved towards the bathroom together.

“This is kinda embarrassing,” she said softly, and you laughed.

“More embarrassing than the Great Tampon Panic of 2000?” You nudged her softly with your elbow and she laughed, and then coughed.

“Don’t make me laugh! No, nothing can beat the way dad lost it that day.”

You smiled, knowing you were probably both remembering Joel’s panicked sprint to your house over the summer when Sarah got her first period and the ensuing chaos. You had been living next door for about a month and you were all more comfortable around each other after that.

After a successful, if slow, bathroom trip, you got Sarah another dose of her medicine and tucked her back into bed. “I’ll be right downstairs, ok? I’ll check on you again soon.” You ran your hand lightly over her forehead and hair to soothe her, but also to see if she was warm. She didn’t feel hot under your hand. Sarah nodded and was soon asleep once again.

…

Joel didn’t manage to call until about two hours later.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, I wanted to call an hour ago but I got caught up. How’s my girl?”

“She’s alright. We had a short bathroom break and another round of cold meds and she’s asleep again. I updated your note.”

Joel sighed, sounding more tired than you’d ever heard him. “I'm hoping to leave in the next half hour, so I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“We’ll be here.”

…

Much later, around dusk, you were finishing up a stack of assignments when you heard a key in the front door. You set everything aside and turned to see Joel quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Welcome back.”

“Hey, darlin’, how’s she doing?” he asked, setting his keys on the table by the door and stopping to remove his boots.

“She’s been asleep since she had some toast around lunch time. I peeked in there about 15 minutes ago but she was still out.”

He sighed, and looked towards the stairs, brow furrowed and clearly worried. “I was hoping she’d sleep it off.”

“She could still be doing that. When I did talk to her earlier she was groggy but still herself – she told me not to make her laugh because it made her cough.” You smiled a little. “And she didn’t have a fever when I checked a little while ago.”

Joel nodded and turned back to look at you. “Even when she feels terrible she’s still a force of nature. I can’t thank you enough, darlin’. I know it was a lot, and it took me longer than I hoped, but–“

“Joel, it was fine.” You cut him off. “It wasn’t a lot, it wasn’t even that long at all, and I did just what I would have done anyway.” You tilted your head towards your stack of graded papers on the couch. Joel turned fully towards you, hands on his hips, and tilted his head while he considered you. The unreadable face was back.

“You look mighty comfortable over there.”

“Oh sorry, let me clean up—“

“No, darlin’, that’s not what I meant. No need to rush out. It’s a good thing. You look good. Over there, I mean. Um.” He smiled at you, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, looking a bit sheepish. You knew what you wanted that to mean but you weren’t sure he meant it that way. Did you look good, or look good here, comfortable on his couch, in his home? You felt your face start to warm as you smiled at each other.

“Can I help with anything before I go?” You ducked your head a little and started shoving your papers into your bag.

“No, I’ve got it. I’d invite you to stay for dinner as thanks, but I don’t think anyone in this household will be much company today. Next week, ok? Come over for dinner, maybe Sunday? Give her some time to get better first.” He took a couple of steps towards you, watching as you packed up your things.

“You don’t have to thank me, Joel–“

“Come for dinner,” he interrupted you, catching your eye. “Please.”

You stood and found yourself only a foot or so away from him, which didn’t help you calm your reaction to him. “Ok, ok, you know I’d love to.” You smiled and Joel smiled in response. “I don’t need convincing.”

Looking satisfied, Joel turned and led the way to the door. You grabbed your bag and followed, noticing he was standing a little taller than he had been that morning.

You started to move past him towards the door, but before you could, Joel suddenly reached out and pulled you into a hug. You found yourself with your arms circling his waist as he placed one hand securely at your lower back and used the other to gently cup the back of your head. You pressed your face to his shoulder. So quietly you almost missed it, he whispered, “Thank you again, darlin’. I was still worried, of course, but I felt so much better knowing it was you here with my girl all day.”

You couldn’t help it – you sank into his arms a little, returning the hug tightly. “It’s never a problem, Joel. You know I love that girl.”

You felt more than heard a little hitch in his breath as he paused before slowly stepping out of the embrace. “Yeah, I reckon I do. We’ll see you Sunday, right? Let’s say 6.”

“I’ll be here.” You smiled, touched his forearm briefly, and headed out the door.

You felt his eyes on you the whole way to your front door, and glanced back as you dug out your keys to find him leaning against his own door frame, watching you. When he saw you turn he smiled a little and raised a hand to wave, finally ducking inside his own house only when you did the same. It felt like something had shifted. Something more was brewing between the two of you.

Sunday.

...

a/n: see you next Sunday for chapter 3! I decided not to split this or the next one half, so the next chapter has parts in Jackson and in Austin. Also, fun fact - this Austin section for chapter 2 was the first part of this fic I wrote, back in April.

Tag list:

@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos

chapter 3 is posted!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #over again fic #my fic #x reader

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whosscruffylooking · 1 year

Text

The Beginning of Us Part 2 (Joel Miller x Fem! Reader)

A/N: Here is part 2! Next chapter brings the ultimate heartbreaks, so I will be spending a little extra time on it. Also, if anyone wants to be added to the tag list for this series please let me know!

Series Masterlist

Warnings! Spoilers for TLOU Episode 1, mentions of death, mention of panic attack, angst.

Word Count: 3.9k

»»————-　♡　————-««

*September 26, 2003* ~Later That Evening~ "So, the answer would be 783?" Sarah appears unsure. You give her a reassuring nod, "Exactly. Great job. You know, as much as I dread going to work every day, I'm so glad I don't have to do homework anymore." The two of you are sitting on her bed agonizing over her algebra homework.

As she piles up all of her papers into her folder, you wander around her room, examining all of the little touches that make the room hers. There is a simple, yet strong feminine touch to her room. A clear representation of the latest teen trends, and yet it is all a reflection of her youthful vibrance.

The poster in the corner of the room catches your eye, "You really do love Halican Drops huh?" "It's my dream to see them in concert one day," she says with a sparkle in her eye. "I think we should go sometime," you wink at her.

She jumps off of her bed, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I saw them once live and they are amazing. It would be even more fun to go with another fellow superfan."

Her enthusiastic expression turns to a more solemn one. Extending your arm out to her you bring her back over to the bed to sit down, "What's wrong Sarah?"

She pauses and takes a deep breath, "My dad is a good man...but he's been through a lot. He has been hurt a lot. Uncle Tommy has tried to get him to date, but nothing ever comes of it. That's why I know you are different."

"W-what?" Your brain stutters for a moment, struggling to process what is happening.

"I know you slept over last night. And before you freak out about that, I just want you to know that it makes me happy to see my dad as optimistic as he's been. He's come out of his shell again. I swear to God everything we talk about somehow comes full circle back to you too. The other day I said I want to go to Disney World and he told me how you have a baby picture of yourself with Mickey Mouse on your fridge. That was my first signal that my suspicions have been accurate."

Leaning forward, you take her hands into yours once more, "Sarah...if any of this makes you uncomfortable at all please tell me. I would never want to overstep or make you feel like-"

"Hey hey hey, I'm so happy about this. Since you moved in a year ago, you've slowly brought my dad back to me. I can see the way he looks at you, it's kind of how he looks at me...but different."

Tightening your grasp around her hands, you draw her into a hug. She settles into your embrace and whispers, "Just don't hurt him." Kissing the top of her head you quietly express, "I'll keep him safe I promise."

»»————- ♡ ————-«« The rest of the night is spent waiting on Joel to get home. You and Sarah intensely watched the clock as the hours passed by, wondering when he'd get back.

Finally, the door-knob to the front door begins to shake and you can hear Joel mutter a curse word when he realizes it's locked. "Well, you locked the door for once, good job," he acknowledges Sarah once inside. "That's because I made her," you stare down at her. Nothing can hide the disappointment on her face. She'd wanted so badly to spend the day celebrating her dad, and nothing had gone according to plan.

The young girl kindly reprimands her father for coming home past the time he'd promised AND for forgetting to bring home a cake, she makes him swear to make up for it tomorrow. Eager to move past the awkwardness and save Joel a little embarrassment, you signal to Sarah to give him his watch.

"Fixed it for you," her hopeful eyes look to his in search of commendation and gratitude. He tricks her into thinking that the watch wasn't properly fixed and you watch the two of them with such admiration, for the beautiful bond they have. The ability to have a deep father, daughter relationship and yet be each other's best friends was so endearing. You never want to come between them, but you'd be honored to have a front-row seat to their little family unit.

"Where'd you get the money for this?" He inquires.

"Drugs. I sell hardcore drugs," she says in all seriousness.

You and Joel laugh in unison, your eyes meeting briefly before turning your attention back to his daughter.

"Actually," she rests her head on your shoulder, "Y/N helped."

There is a pleased look in his eye, as his gaze meets yours. It's as if some element of peace washed over him and pure contentment settled into his rough features. It's been years since a woman showed him this much kindness, and you'll be damned if that job ever goes to someone else. »»————- ♡ ————-«« Sarah had fallen asleep to a movie, her head laying in Joel's lap. The two of you kept stealing glances throughout the movie. You feel his fingertips graze your shoulder and you turn to him, resting your head on the back of the sofa.

"Hi Joel," your pupils dilate.

"Hi beautiful," his eyes twinkle, fixated on studying every detail of your face.

Very quickly, you learn that your conversations do not need words to feel meaningful. The tilts of your heads, the shrugs of your shoulders, the serene sighs of surrender when you feel completely at ease with one another. Both of you are soothed by each other's presence and it is evident even in the voids of quietness. In those moments you can fully savor the company of the other and thrive off of the respect and admiration that radiates from you. There is a feeling of safety and confidence that stays between you and has existed since the beginning of your friendship.

The sharp ringing of the phone snaps you both back to reality. He answers it. You can't make out the words but can tell it is Tommy on the other line. With a heavy sigh, Joel falls back against the couch in defeat.

Damn it Tommy. You got yourself locked up again, didn't you?

Joel turns to you, jaw clenched with annoyance, forehead furrowed in disappointment. He wants to stay here with you a little while longer.

You offer to remain at the house and make sure Sarah is taken care of while he picks up Tommy. He takes her upstairs to tuck her into her bed. Dragging himself back downstairs, he rolls his neck from one side to the other in an endeavor to relieve the kinks. Stifling a yawn, you meet him halfway in the living room.

"We'll be here when you get back."

Although his expression was pensive, it eases slightly as you pull him out of his thoughts and back into the present with you.

"Thank you for staying with Sarah. Hell, sleeping over two nights in a row...things are getting serious." He gives you a goofy smile.

"Go!" You let out a short laugh and shove him out the front door. »»————- ♡ ————-«« As the hours rolled by, your sense of urgency grew. Joel should have been back with Tommy by now. Eager to distract yourself you turn on the television and aimlessly channel surf until you discover a movie that piques your interest. Another hour of watching the front door, willing Joel and Tommy to walk through it, passes by.

Drowsiness begins to overtake you. You take your eyes off of the television screen not wanting to exert any more effort into looking at it. Each muscle in your body begins to release the tension of the day, one by one as you settle onto the couch. The faint buzz of the television lulls you to the edge of sleep in mere moments.

Jolted awake by the deafening rumble of helicopters passing overhead, you fight off the dream that is still clouding your mind. Everything from your eyelashes to your feet feels heavy. Resting your eyes once more, you grant yourself another moment to enjoy the void of unconsciousness.

That moment is interrupted by Sarah shaking you awake.

"Y/N, what's going on? I think I can see explosions outside..."

Groggily sitting up, your vision finally focuses on the TV just past Sarah. The channel that was airing a movie not too long ago is now distorted with static. Sarah picks up the remote and changes the channel.

"STAY INDOORS! Law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions."

"What the f-"

Your attention shifts from the national alert to the sound of scratching at the window. The Adler's dog is loose and attempting to get into the house.

Okay, this night CANNOT get any stranger.

"It's Mercy! We need to see if he's okay," Sarah rushes to the door. You grab her arm, "Uh, I don't think that's a good idea. I think we need to stay inside right now and keep the doors locked."

"But he never gets loose. What if something is wrong with the Adlers?"

Suppressing the dread that is developing rapidly within you, you swallow your fear for Sarah's sake. You have to keep things calm and safe for her.

"Alright," you smooth your hand over her hair, "I'm gonna go over to my house and grab my nursing kit okay? Let me go check on them, but you do not, and I am so serious right now....do NOT leave this house by any means. Understand?"

She was too frightened to even lift her head, rather she stared out the window at the distant flares of light coming from the city.

You kneel to her level and hold her for a moment, "Everything is going to be alright okay?"

"Can I see if Mercy is okay?"

Conceding, you cautiously open the door and allow Sarah to clutch onto the dog. "Remember Sarah, do not leave the house."

Your pulse beats in your ears, as you turn to face your house. Although your mind is intent on making the trek across the street, it is as if your feet are cemented to the ground.

You tell yourself that being a little nervous is a completely normal reaction to what is going on. But that's just it, what IS going on?

God Joel, where the hell are you?

»»————- ♡ ————-««

"Damn it Tommy can you drive any faster?"

Tommy's grip on the wheel tightens, finding an odd comfort in the grooves between his fingers.

"Joel, I am going as fast as I can okay? They will be fine. Sarah is a smart girl and she has Y/N who won't let anything bad happen to them."

Joel could not wrap his mind around any of the events that transpired once he left his home to go get Tommy. One second he was in the comfort of his living room, within arms reach of the woman he'd just spent the most incredible night with. And his daughter, the embodiment of his heart and soul, was safe asleep on his lap. Next thing he knows, he and Tommy are being chased by a stampede of rabid-like inmates at the Travis County Jail. He could no longer restrain the tremors in his hands, shaking in an irregular rhythm.

"You really care about this girl don't you," Tommy's voice manages to break through the wall of thoughts blockading Joel from thinking clearly.

Recalling the night before, he is transported back to the moment when you pulled his shirt over his head and started grazing your hands across his chest, down the ridge in between his abs. It was a sensory overload, every nerve ending in his body tingled with anticipation. The two of you collapsed onto his bed, your bodies trembling as you bonded with every motion, each passionate touch leaving a flaming sensation on your skin. Your hearts raced in tempo with one another, like a symphony crescendoing to its epic finale.

"I do. This is the only time since Sarah's mom left that I've felt alive. Young again, invincible." Joel has never felt so certain in his life about someone, not even his ex-wife. Being with you is effortless. In your presence, he feels weightless. Like a drug, you drew him in slowly, tempting his every desire. At first, he took you in, little by little. And without detection, he became addicted. »»————- ♡ ————-«« Emerging from your home, nursing kit in hand, you prepare yourself for whatever you might face at the Adler's home. Surely it is nothing too grave, and yet you can't help but wonder why her kids didn't come to get you or call 911 if something happened to Nana?

Passing Joel's house, panic passes over you, causing the fine hairs on the back of your neck to rise. The front door is still open. Your mind races faster than your feet as you rush into the house. The endless possibilities as to what could've happened to her plague you.

You are confident that if anything happens to Sarah, Joel will strangle you with his bare hands...and not in a pleasurable way. Even if you told that stubborn girl not to move a finger from where you left her. She reminds you so much of yourself though. Curiosity can be so enticing at times that it blinds a person. Especially someone with as honorable of a heart as Sarah's.

"Sarah!" You frantically call out in each room.

Where are she and that damn dog?

Joel, hurry up. Please.

After surveying the entirety of the house to no avail, your chest tightens, and your lungs feel as though they have been wrung out of oxygen. Unsure of whether or not your lack of oxygen is due to the running or the panic attack creeping up on you, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. Mind over matter. Where would she go?

The dog. The damn dog. She's at the Adler's.

The next few seconds are a blur. You are uncertain how you got to the Adler's doorstep so swiftly. It felt like you were practically flying. Similar to Joel's home, the front door is open.

This girl needs to learn how to not only lock doors but actually CLOSE them.

A sickening sensation flares through your body as you peer into the still home. There go the hairs on the back of your neck again, but this time, the tingling sensation snakes down your spine and arms too. Instinctually, you know not to go in there. But, Sarah is in there and she matters more than any gut feeling or self-preservation right now.

"Sarah?"

Apprehensively, you venture deeper into the house. That's when you lay eyes on her, frozen in the kitchen. Unclear as to what she is fixated on, you join her in the doorway. That's when you see it. A trail of blood leads directly to Mr. Adler, his mouth agape and his limbs contorting. At first, the sight does not phase you. As a nurse working in an emergency room, you handle bloody wounds day in and day out. It's not until you look closely at where the blood is coming from that your fears reignite.

Is that...a bite wound?

A guttural noise captures your attention. Following Sarah's line of sight, terror sucks the very breath from your lungs. There is Nana, atop Mrs. Adler. Another river of blood floods from the daughter-in-law's neck.

Nana's raspy breathing slows to a more even tempo as she raises her eyes toward you. Vine-like appendages protrude from her mouth, attaching themselves to Connie's neck. The drumming of your heart, deafening and irregular, obscures your mind with fear.

Fight? Or flight? First, get Sarah as far away as possible.

Latching onto Sarah's arm, you tug her behind you.

One word. "Run."

Keeping your eyes on the gasping old woman, you ready yourself to prevent her from reaching Sarah at all costs. You listen intently for Sarah's footsteps pounding out of the house until you are positive she's made it outside.

You can feel the flight responses taking over your body, flooding you with increased adrenaline.

Nana stumbles to her feet as she releases a splintering screech. That is when the adrenaline ceases full control over your body, sending you hurdling towards the front door. Whatever creature has possessed the once docile elderly lady, is now hot on your heels. Her bone-chilling snarls signal you to her presence behind you.

Just as you begin to fear the worst outcome, you see him.

"Don't go," Joel's pleas echo in your mind from mere hours ago.

The thought of being wrapped up in his secure embrace once more drives you to push your legs harder.

Anguish pierces his voice as he calls out your name. Even so, it translates into a calming melody that brings some clarity to your mind.

"Get behind me..." He motions you over to Sarah.

As you hold her trembling frame, you turn back to Nana who is collapsed on the ground. Her limbs are mangled and her eyes are void of any life. Suddenly, the sharp cracking of her bones churns your stomach. Like a rabid animal, she growls and sprints toward Joel on all fours. Rising to her feet and closing in on him, she flails her arms wildly.

"What are we doing Joel!?" Tommy exclaims.

Without hesitation, Joel swings the wrench clutched in his fist and lands one solid blow to the side of the woman's head, sending her motionless body to the ground. Sarah screams and you quickly shield her from the sight of her father standing over their neighbor's corpse...or at least the shell of what she used to be.

Joel rushes to his daughter's side and caresses her cheek, looking her over to make sure she's safe and in one piece.

"You killed her," she cries in disbelief as she collapses into his arms.

He tightens his grip on her, "Baby, I'm sorry." He pulls away and stares into her eyes with strength and focus, "It's not just the Adlers. But we're gonna be brave and we're gonna get out of this."

Not just the Adlers? The helicopters flying towards the city...whatever took control of Nana did not die with her, she was merely the introduction.

Feeling lightheaded, you lean against Tommy's truck. He rushes to your side and holds you up, "You got that nursing kit of yours?"

"N-no. Inside," you point to Joel's house.

One by one, generators and streetlights begin to explode. Sparks of orange and gold, light up the sky over your neighborhood.

Joel ushers Sarah into the car and turns to face you. For a brief moment, time stands still. His pupils dilate, as he looks at you, the woman who made the future look like skies as clear as sapphire. Yet, he recognizes a shift in the atmosphere. A shared dread hanging over you like a dark, impenetrable cloud. His hands tremble, searching for yours to steady them. He twitches, his body responding to your delicate touch.

"Don't go." He implores you. His signature phrase to you. That in itself could be your new love language.

Attempting to open your mouth to speak, no words flow out. A simple nod is all you can manage. With that permission, he hurries you into the truck, meanwhile warning another one of your neighbors to stay inside and lock her door. Once Joel is inside, you lean forward and drape a reassuring hand on his shoulder. A subtle, but significant sign of solidarity. He laces his fingers with yours and holds you in place against the back of his seat.

As aggressively as Tommy floors the truck into motion, he brings it to a screeching halt. The headlights of the truck illuminate the Adlers stumbling onto the street. Their limbs are just like that of Nana's, wrenched and fidgeting.

"Get your seatbelts on," Joel declares.

Tommy warns, "Hold on..."

His foot finds its way back to the accelerator with no delay. Bracing yourself for the unthinkable you turn to Sarah, "Come here." She folds into your lap, a whimper escaping her lips. The Adlers charge at the truck simultaneously. Connie soon disappears from view as the truck plows over her and sideswipes Danny.

Closing your eyes, you do everything in your might to hold down the bile rising in your throat.

Sarah sits up and wipes a few stray tears from her eyes, "Daddy-"

"We don't know," Joel interrupts.

You shake your head in disbelief, "The Adlers, they were infected with something, some kind of parasite maybe?"

"That's what they're saying on the radio, some kind of virus," Tommy confirms.

"Are we sick?" The young girl persists.

"No. Of course not," Joel's fearful tone turns to a more frustrated one. As a father, his instinct is to protect his daughter and provide her with comfort, but he has no clue what kind of threat lies ahead and can't give her satisfying answers. You tighten your hold on his hand, and he gives you a firm squeeze.

Joel's brother slows the truck as you spot a family pulled off onto the side of the road.

"Tommy, don't," you state firmly. The family shouts after you in desperation.

"But they have a kid."

"So do we," Joel glares at Tommy.

It's officially every man for themselves. Each outsider you bring into your safety net becomes a variable. An unpredictable risk that could put you and the people you care most about in grave danger.

Beams of crimson light glow in the distance, a vast sea of unmoving taillights. Seems like everyone in Austin had the escape plan as you, sending Tommy into a frenzy.

"It's okay, just think it through, we'll think it through," Joel says in repetition, not just for Tommy, but also to ease himself.

Coming from the opposing direction, panicked vehicles race towards you, and away from the perpetual gridlock that hundreds of other cars are trapped in.

Looking out the window into the vast, empty land that stretches for miles uninterrupted, you have a plan.

"Tommy, the field. It's the perfect detour. Cut across it and we will end up on the west side."

Speedily, he veers off onto the barren land. A stampede of cars follows behind you. The collective rays of the headlights light your path to....another dead end. The highway is infested with army vehicles crawling along it.

Tommy and Joel bicker over what the next move should be. Joel opts for a small town on the north side.

"And then what?" You interject.

Joel steadies himself against the dash, the unstable terrain tossing your bodies left and right.

"I don't know. Mexico. Just far, far as we can."

Sarah's eyes gloss over. "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go."

"Hey, hey look at me. We are going to be fine. As long as the four of us stick together, we will be fine. There will be somewhere for us to go and find safety. I promise you, we won't let anything happen to you," you place your hand over your heart and affirm to her.

The dilemma is, you don't know if you can even accept what you promised Sarah. This isn't some influenza you can shelter in place from. The battle is against mankind's worst enemy, man. But not normal men, men being transformed into monsters.

"I-I believe you." Sarah's faith in you is unshakeable, "And I love you too Y/N."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Tag List: @midgetpottermills @erenswiffe

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #joel miller #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal one shot #the last of us imagine #the last of us

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pimosworld · 7 months

Text

Moonshine

TLOU x Triple Frontier crossover AU

Pairing- Joel Miller x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Chapter Summary- Joel mediates an argument after some patrons cause a stir at the bar.

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFWangst,fluff,hurt,comfort, smut, unprotected piv,cream pie, fingering, handjob, edging, protective Frankie,protective tf boys, handsy patrons, alcohol use, cum eating (don’t look at me). Dom Joel, MM,MF, MFM.

WK-5k

Character link

A/N- There’s so little plot and so much porn in this chapter. Hints of Fishben in the past because I can’t help myself. Reader and Frankie are brats but they love each other. Moonshine will be coming to a close shortly so thank you all for sticking around.

[Series Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Moonshine Chapter VI- Fools errand

It’s approaching fall by the way the soft orange light spills through the windows of your shared bedroom. You’ve lost count of how many nights Frankie’s been a staple in your routine. You hope he’s lost the feeling of being a guest in your home.

The light snores coming from both men are a reprieve from the stress of the last few nights since Cain made his dramatic appearance. It’s almost like they share a brain the way you’re awoken from their nightmares simultaneously. The ache between your legs this morning is evident in the only way you know how to bring them both back down to earth when one of them wakes with a blood curdling scream or soaked sweat through the sheets.

Everyone has been through their fair share of personal hell since the outbreak but you know these men… the ones you love so deeply that your heart aches at the thought of them hurting anymore than necessary. Joel shared his stories with you when you first met him, about his life before you when he was a “good” man and his life in the beginning of the outbreak when he did some truly awful things.

He says you make up for the awful things ten times over.

You didn’t think you could meet someone who's gone through as much as Joel has until you met Francisco. Your grandmother used to say some people have tortured souls and you think maybe the two of them were destined for each other between all the collective lives they’ve taken and saved.

It took awhile for Frankie to open up to you about his past. You weren’t one to prey either but you think he finally understood when you conveyed to him in so many ways that nothing he could tell you would change the way you felt about him. He had you from the moment you walked into Joel’s office that first day.

“Shine.” Joel’s sleepy voice from under your chin startles you slightly.

“Sorry I woke you honey.” He tsks as he pulls your warm, pliant body down under him, careful not to wake the other sleeping giant.

“You didn’t wake me as much as your thoughts did…what’s going on in that pretty little head?” You don’t know how he does it, it’s so eerie sometimes how he can read you like a book.

“I’m just worried about you…both of you.” He hums against your neck and you feel that tug in your core, he has you so easily under his spell.

“It’s my job to worry, it’s your job to be sweet…and pretty… and all mine.” He punctuates each word with a kiss as he trails his warm breath down your body.

You arch your back pressing your chest into him, silently urging him on as he latches into your exposed breast. You hiss through your teeth as he soothes the spot with his tongue.

This soft sweet Joel is still not enough of a distraction for your mind as you think back to last night. His body trembled as he clutched the sheets in terror. He wouldn’t tell you what plagues him and rarely wants you to relive the horrors that have him shouting your name in his sleep.

He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve lost you again.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper mostly to yourself.

“Maybe I should enlist some help.” Joel’s reaching beside you before you can stop him. It’s Pavlovian the way Frankie responds even in sleep as he rolls into your side. His hard length pressed into your thigh, while you’re pinned under Joel’s gaze.

He mutters something incoherent under his breath as Joel places a soft kiss along his broad shoulders.

“Francisco.” He coos softly and it still amazes you how a strong and intimidating man such as Joel can go all weak in the knees for the man beside him. “Someone’s a little worried about us.”

“Mmm it’s not your job to worry hermosa.” A small whimper escapes you as a warm calloused hand works its way between you and Joel, down your sternum, past your navel brushing against where you and Joel meet.

“That’s what I told her.” Joel groans deep in your ear as Frankie works his hand through your slit, his fingers dip in as you arch into Joel’s hold on you.

Even half awake the man could have you on edge, his deft fingers work you open and he’s not even paying you full attention. You sigh into it, finally relaxing under his expert touch as Joel resumes his exploration of your body with his mouth.

“Aren’t you glad I woke him up?” His thumb circles your clit and you moan into Joel’s neck, your fingers carding through his soft curls as your body shivers. Your climax is steadily approaching, you can taste it on the tip of your tongue as you open your legs wider for him.

“I think that was a yes, but I can’t be too sure.” His fingers stop their movement and you whine in frustration.

Yes,yes please.

Frankie has the nerve to chuckle but continues… his gaze shifts from your blissed out face to his hand buried between you as Joel ruts into you chasing his own high. He can’t come before you but he’s hanging on by a thread as he watches you writhe in pleasure. Your pleasure has always been there undoing.

Your climax catches you by surprise as Joel swallows your cries with his mouth,his own end soon following as the warm sticky liquid paints your stomach. Frankie withdraws his hand, gathering Joel’s spend along your stomach, he holds it up to you as you obediently open your mouth. His deep growl reverberates through your body as you lick his fingers clean.Joel twitches against you at the dominant display in front of him. In times past he would be embarrassed at the sight but since Frankie’s joined your bed it’s opened Joel up to you in ways you couldn’t imagine.

“I love you.” You breathlessly say hopefully conveying the message to both of them in your post orgasmic bliss.

“There’s our sweet girl.” Frankie’s praise is honey in your ears.

You both reach for Frankie knowing he’s waited patiently for his own release after being woken up to tend to your needs. He would gladly relish in the dual affection for the rest of whatever this life is willing to give him.

You’re both so grateful for Frankie and so you and Joel spend the rest of your lazy morning showing him just how much he’s wanted and needed.

****

“You’re in a playful mood.” Ben toys with the straw of the drink you made him try as his certified guinea pig for all your new drinks.

It was a slower than usual night now that the weather was starting to turn. People opting to stay in on the chilly Boston nights.

“Just had a nice morning is all.” He looks up at you from his drink with a glint in his eyes.

“Mmm I’m sure you did, Fish has that effect on people.” His eyes flit briefly to Frankie who seems lost in thought at the end of the bar, leaning in his usual spot with his leg up straining his jeans.

You worry for a second about what Ben may think of you, maybe they had something before you came into the picture. Is this just a fling for Frankie? An itch that he needs scratched occasionally before he moves on to something else.

“I can see your wheels turning Shine, don’t worry that’s in the past.” He grabs your hand across the bar and kisses your palm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this in love or this happy. Not even with me.” You raise your eyebrows at him and he winks in reply.

Frankie’s ears must be ringing as he looks over at the two of you. You’re leaning across the bar whispering something into Ben’s ear and he’s practically beaming from your attention. You seem to have that effect on people.

He can only guess as to what you’re talking about as you both look over at him and burst into a fit of laughter. He has a pretty good guess.

You saunter over to him twirling the bar towel in your hands. Trouble.

It was so easy to get Frankie all worked up while he tried to focus on his job. You’re sure you’ll pay for it later but it’s worth seeing the look on his face when you bend over the bar sink and he sees you’re not wearing any panties.

It wasn’t on purpose, it was laundry day and you miscalculated how many you had left.

The red flushed look creeping up his neck as you wink at him over your shoulder only spurs you on further. He steps up behind you and gently grabs your arm pulling you into him as he leans in close to your ear.

“Keep it up and we’ll see if you’re still smiling later.” The low timber in his voice makes you want to tease him some more but you stop, besides for a few light touches here and there. It didn’t matter you were in for it either way.

****

It was hard not ignoring the few customers you had when Santi and Charity graced the small stage with their melodic voices. Watching the two of them with hearts in their eyes made you melt on the spot.

Santiago had a voice like molasses dripping slowly from a tree. He strummed his guitar and sand along with Charity, looking at her as if she was the only woman in the room.

You all were a bunch of love sick fools lately. A demure brunette sits across from Will in the booth. Jane. She was a quiet reserved patron for weeks until one day she asked Will for his name and that was all it took for his hard exterior to crack.

You don’t know how long it’s been for him since he opened up his heart to someone. He had to be the rock, the level headed one of the group. Always making sure his brother was taken care of.

It was nice to see him finally open up and embrace his new home. It may have been a little selfish of you but it calmed that flutter in your heart at the prospect of them all not being happy here. You think with the bond they’ve formed, if one left they would all follow.

Will always does his best to keep his full attention on anyone when they’re with him, so it’s odd when you notice his eyes struggling to hold their gaze on his crush sitting across from him. He seems uncomfortable in a way you’ve never seen him before. His eyes flit back and forth from Jane to the two patrons seated at a low top table. He leans in and whispers something to her and she kisses him softly, you didn’t think he would be one fire pda but then again all of the boys have surprised you from time to time. She grabs her jacket and sends you a wave as she exits the bar.

Your attention is back on the two men around your age, nothing looks out of the ordinary about them but they certainly need drinks if they’re going to loiter. ‘This isn’t a free lounge’ in Joel’s words.

You make your way over to the table with a smile on your face as a polite greeting. Both men smile back but not at you,more so at each other. Your hackles go up a bit but you press on knowing you’ve dealt with your fair share bullshit and you can hold your own.

“What can I get you boys? Some waters or maybe the specialty cocktail made by yours truly.”

“Maybe something else?” He scrubs his hands together as he looks you up and down.

“Umm…that’s all we have I’m afraid.” You look hesitantly to the other man as you feel a hand grab your waist and pull you into his lap.

You struggle briefly and send an elbow into the stomach of the man who grabbed you.

“You bitch!” You move to sleep him after you’ve freed yourself from his grasp but he catches your wrist in his large hand and squeezes tight.

Frankie doesn’t like to make you feel like he’s your babysitter. You obviously held your own long before they got here. That’s not to say that Joel didn’t require his help so that you didn’t feel the need to defend yourself every step of the way. He’s seen what happens to women surrounded by wolves in this new world they’ve been living in. It makes him sick what men think they have rights to now that law and order have all but gone out the window.

He saw you approach the table to take their order but he also noticed their stance and the way they surveyed the room. Will noticed too but it’s never smart to be the first one to jump. They were not just some ordinary patrons turning in for a drink at the end of a long day and they certainly weren’t FEDRA. The officers in the QZ had made themselves very known to the boys since their arrival.

He moves but not quite fast enough as you struggle against his hold on you. Time moves so slow and yet so fast. Tunnel vision on the scene unfolding in front of him. He doesn’t notice Santi hopping off the stage or Ben flanking to his left, all he can see is red and the grip he has on your wrist as you finally yank it free.

Ben blocks his view as he grabs his shoulders, shoving him back.

“Ben,move!” He grits through his teeth, trying to sidestep the younger, more agile of the two.

Before it can go any further your hand is on him gently urging him to calm down. He can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears but you faintly in the background telling him you’re alright.

The music has stopped and the few stragglers have cleared as Santi and Will stand over the two men seated at the table.

“Frankie…” He still can’t focus on whose voice it is talking him off the ledge of rage he hasn’t felt in a long time. “Fish!” Ben’s voice finally snaps him out of it as he sees the concerned looks on both of your faces.

“We’ve got it man, just take her home.”

You leave Frankie briefly now that Ben at least had him relatively calmed down. Charity is on the stage grabbing Santi’s guitar.

“What is going on lately?Where is Joel?” She hops down and sits on the edge patting the spot next to her.

“I wish I had some answers for you…I know Joel has been running out of supplies for the families that need help this winter.” She sighs as she looks over at the men. The conversation no doubt is much more heated than what lets on. “ This is gonna sound really selfish and if you can help it I don’t want you to judge me.”

You brace yourself for whatever she’s going to say. The two of you have always been so open and honest but you’ve never seen the look in her eyes that she’s giving you.

“I’ve never been this happy in my entire life, and that scares me so much.”

You know the feeling. Being so happy and so scared that it’s all going to be ripped out from under you. Everything in your life was taken from you and why should this be any different.

“I don’t know why you think that’s selfish Charity.”

She sniffles and wipes her eyes as she takes a shuddering breath. “Because there are so many people out there suffering, why should I be happy?”

It breaks your heart to hear her say it but you know exactly how she feels. She’s been your rock, doing her best to take over where your sister left off…but who was there for her?

“I’m gonna steal this from Joel so don’t give me the credit. You shouldn’t deny yourself happiness because others are suffering. You never know how long it’s going to last.” She smiles at you through her tears as you lean in and hug her. You can see Frankie over her shoulder waiting on you by the bar as the others continue their conversation with the mystery men.

“Joel may have told you that but he would have never said that before meeting you.” She kisses you softly on the cheek and hips down from the stage.

“Go home Shine, your man is waiting.” She gestures behind her and you bite your lip knowing how riled up you made him earlier and this stunt surely didn’t help.

****

“Just go wait by the bar Fish, I don’t want you doing anything stupid.” Frankie doesn’t want to back down but he knows Ben is right. The look in his eyes is all but pleading for him to step down and cool off.

He’s not much of a drinker these days but he decides to step behind the bar and pour himself some whiskey. It’s scary how it almost instantly calms his nerves as he looks up to see you and Charity talking much like he does with Santiago.

“So you guys are obviously military, what branch?” Will scoffs at the two men clearly outnumbered but not seeming nervous at the interaction.

“I should ask you two the same thing.” Will had clocked it early on. The way they carried themselves, their build and demeanor. It was easy to spot one of your own.

“Why are they still here?” Ben joins the conversation as he sizes them up.

“No harm intended boys. We see the way she is with all of you, we just assumed it was an open establishment.” Santiago is very grateful for Frankie’s proximity or else he knows there would be no holding him back after that comment.

“There’s a brothel down the street if that’s what you’re looking for.” Santi leans into the one who dared touch you. “If we see you here again with your hands on anyone, you’ll lose those hands.”

Santi may not have caught it but Will does. They said they ‘see you’ and that can’t be just from one night. They’ve been in here before and no one noticed them. It seems Joel was not paranoid in his suspicions that things are changing around here and not for the better.

The two men stand trying to size them up but there’s no use in looking intimidating around Ben who towers over everyone he’s near. They exit the bar with no more fuss as Will makes a note to remember their exact description…height,weight, age, hair color.

“Go home Fish, we’ll lock up.” He looks over at you as you embrace Charity, planting a kiss on her cheek. The energy of the night thrumming in his veins is an unfamiliar one.

****

“What the hell were you thinking back there? Were you going to hit him?” Frankie is fuming as you walk the streets home. The brisk cold wind does nothing to quell the heat rising under the surface.

“I was thinking I can handle myself.” He laughs and you pick up your speed just a little so you’re not walking directly next to him.

“It didn’t look handled to me Luna.” You know he was just concerned but you don’t particularly like this side of him.

“I handled a lot of things before you got here.” You know that moment when you say something you shouldn’t say but you can’t stop yourself. That was one of those moments.

“If you handled them so well there wouldn’t be a need for us.” Frankie can’t stop the words as they tumble out of his stupid mouth. You stop and turn to face him with tears in your eyes, unsure of your next move.

“Je ne suis pas impuissant.”

“No hablo francés.” He says in a frustrating tone.

You turn and start running in the other direction as he starts to chase after you cursing his bad knees and back.

“Well maybe you should learn.” You call out over your shoulder as you let the cold air dry the tears streaming down your face.

****

Joel takes the stairs two at a time eager to see the both of you. He’s been working long hours trying to secure rations for the families that can’t provide during the harsh winters. Without Tommy he can’t count on reliable people to head outside the wall and he wouldn’t think of sending the boys after all they’ve been through.

It’s quiet in the living room when he enters and he thinks he may be too late to catch you awake. He sits on the couch to unlace his boots when he hears a soft whimper from the bedroom.

You don’t hear Joel walk in, too preoccupied with your third or maybe fourth time being brought to the edge by Frankie’s skilled tongue. Your forehead is covered in sweat and your body feels on fire as you whine and moan, begging for release.

You hear a creak in the floorboard as Joel clocks his tongue. He’s leaning in the doorway with a look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine.

“What did I tell you about starting without me Francisco?” Joel’s tone is all teasing as Frankie raises his head and even in your delirious state you can’t help but laugh at his chin coated in your slick.

“You’re a brat.” He says under his breath.

You scoot back against the headboard as he rolls over to face Joel who’s patiently waiting for an answer. Frankie wipes his face with the palm of his hand and clears his throat.

“You said that if I started without you, I better make her come.”

“Looks to me like you were playin’ with her.”

Frankie looks over at you seemingly pleased with yourself, Joel has been steadily undressing as he surveys the situation. He’s stripped down to his boxers as he walks toward the bed.

There was something about the three of you together. Of course you had your moments alone and they had theirs but when you all came together they found new ways to make you feel like the earth stopped moving.

“Lay back Francisco.” Frankie lays his head on the pillow as Joel sits down on the bed next to him.

With all the teasing he’s been doing to you, it hasn’t occurred to you he was torturing himself. You can see he’s rock hard, the angry red tip leaking precum as it twitches against his abdomen.

Joel runs his hand along Frankie’s thigh slowly traveling up and past where he wants him the most. Fingers tracing along his happy trail and up across his chest as his breathing picks up.

You’re draped along Frankie’s other side as you massage his arm. He’s trying to focus on one thing but both of your feather light touches have him already on the edge.

The tables have turned and it’s so sweet to watch.

“How many times Shine?” You hum to yourself as you tap your chin with your finger. Should you be generous or make him pay? You opt for somewhere in the middle to hopefully save you in the future.

You hold up three fingers in front of Frankie’s face and he looks as though he’s relieved and terrified all at once.

Joel’s hand grips the base of him before Frankie can register what’s happening. He works his hand up and down his length as he fights the urge to come on the spot. His teasing of you is coming back to bite him ten fold as your warm breath ghosts across his neck and Joel’s hand works his cock.

“What’s got the two of you all worked up?” Fuck is he supposed to be able to answer questions?

Joel doesn’t play fair. He knows exactly what to do to get him on the edge. He alternates between hard and soft strokes, your sweet voice in his ear and your hands on his chest. He bucks his hips and Joel releases him as an inaudible whine leaves his mouth. One

“I asked you a question.” Frankie can’t think let alone remember the question.

“He was being an asshole.” Oh he remembers now.

“She was being a brat.” Joel chuckles as he grips him again, no doubt a warning as Frankie hisses through his teeth.

“I don’t doubt it…on both accounts.”

Frankie’s overwhelmed in a way he’s never felt as you cradle his balls in your hand and Joel resumes his movements a little harder this time. He drags his thumb across the tip gathering the precum along his cock as he works him up again. “Please…”

“Relax baby.” His own words echoed into his ear… by you as you revel in this switch in power. He thinks if he’s quiet he can prolong the torture and come ‘accidentally’ but Joel’s no fool.

He knows that look of concentration as Frankie tries to focus on the high. His breathing is labored and he’s on the precipice of his climax when Joel stops. Two “Joel, fuck please.” Frankie’s never been edged quite like this and he suddenly has a modicum of sympathy for anyone who's been through this.

Your eyes meet Joel’s for a moment as you both realize how long it’s been since you’ve seen each other. He leans in to kiss you soft and sweet as you reach over and card your hands through his soft curls. Your moans and whimpers are his life breath as his tongue moves in tune with yours.

He’s all but forgotten what state he found you both in when he arrived. Frankie had edged you for god knows how long and you have waited patiently for his punishment only staving off your own release.

Joel has a moment of clarity as he breaks the kiss and moves you like you weigh nothing to straddle Frankie’s hips. You both know where this is going but you couldn’t stop it if you tried. Joel’s hands are on your hips lining you up with Frankie’s cock and he gently kneads your breasts with his palms.

It feels like an eternity as you wait for Joel’s instruction but he’s simply catching his breath behind you. Frankie places his hands on top of Joel’s as they slowly sink you down on top of him. You gasp when you try to adjust to how thick he is.

It’s always like the first time with him as you slowly roll your hips…but it’s not you moving as you feel your body being pushed and pulled with the strength of two men. You brace your hands on Frankie’s chest as he bounces you up and down.

Frankie pulls you down like a man starved as Joel spreads you open from behind. As many positions as you’ve been in with them, this has you feeling the most exposed. Your brain doesn’t have time to register feeling vulnerable as Joel and Frankie work you open.

You're both so close, you can feel it in the way Frankie tenses beneath you as you move your hands lower on his stomach. He curses under his breath as your pussy clenches him so tight. He’s never felt this deep and you can feel the coil tighten just before it snaps.

Joel’s hands still your body and you see Frankie take a shuddering breath as he holds off his climax, nor daring to break the rules. Three.

“Joel please…I’m so close.”

“Apologize. Both of you.” Of course this is where it leads to. Both of you too stubborn to do it on your own.

The words are caught in your throat as Joel leans in kisses down your jaw and your neck urging you on. He places his palm on your back as he lowers you down. Frankie’s grip is still so tight on your hips as you lay flat on his chest.

“Francisco I’m sorry.” Your voice barely above a whisper in his ear. Your lips say more as you kiss him fervently, sorry painted deep in the way you moan and move your hips.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, Shine.” He’s moving again and you can feel it in the way he holds you tight to his chest as he thrusts into you. You can’t speak anymore let alone move as your climax crashes over you. A deep guttural groan emits from him in your ear as he spills himself deep inside.

“I’m so sorry..” You want him to know that you mean it.

“Don’t apologize hermosa.” Frankie knows now, he’s always known that he loves you. He can’t say it now but he will soon.

It’s quiet for a moment as he rolls you over, Joel on the other side of him just watching the two of you fight sleep. Frankie wants to say it now but Jole clears his throat to speak.

“I need to go outside the wall.”

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annasinterests · 4 months

Text

don't look at me like that unless you mean it

seasons don’t fear the reaper ♫ nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain

|| series masterlist || main masterlist ||

a/n: hello hello hello!!!! i am crawling back from the trenches to update for this series!!! i've gotten a few comments here and there of people telling me how much they've enjoyed it so far which has made my heart grow 3x bigger. thank you to everyone who has been so patient with me and still following along <3 y'all mean the world to me!!!! enjoy buddies <3

word count: 1.3k (for good reason i promise)

pairings: joel miller x f!reader

warnings & tags: minors dni, abby's group pov, direct consequence of the last chapter, swearing, lots of tension!, depictions of violence, whatever you know of TLOU part II- throw it out the window from here forward — please tell me if i missed anything!

The gas station stood under the muted glow of the moon, its once-red sign now an overgrown relic, its letters lacking the shiny luster they had decades ago. The windows were boarded up with rotten wood, and the interior had been stripped down to its very foundation. It was the best refuge offered in the miles they trekked– the only, really.

Abby stormed across the linoleum floors, the rubber soles of her boots striking with an angry cadence, one maintained from the moments they stopped running. She carelessly slung her pack off her shoulders, letting it land haphazardly on the side, and drove her knife into the countertop. Planting her hands to steady herself, she murmured curses under her breath, a volatile symphony of emotions reverberating in the stale air.

The others trailed behind her, one attempting to make themselves inconspicuous by being the last– a futile effort given the charged atmosphere.

"Couldn't think of a name that didn't start with the same letter as your own?" Abby's voice cut through the silence, her anger evident even without turning to face her target.

Mel avoided looking at her hunched figure. The tension between them had been going on for months, and this was certainly the breaking point. Abby had been set on one mission for years, and all it took was five minutes for Mel to screw up. Your escape forced them fleeing farther than Abby preferred, dismantling their camp in haste and running until they felt some semblance of safety over the border into Idaho.

Embarrassment colored Mel's face as she weakly rationalized her guilt, "I told you it wasn't a good idea to begin with."

Abby scoffed and rolled her eyes, a sardonic smile curling on her lips, "What you should've told me was that you're totally fucking incapable. Would've been crystal clear, then."

Mel swallowed hard, feeling Abby's rage descend upon her like a palpable force. Glancing at the others, most avoiding eye contact due to their own discomfort, Mel crossed her arms and tried to find the courage to defend herself once more.

"I did my best."

"Well your best wasn't good enough," Abby retorted without missing a beat, finally turning to face Mel. The moonlight streamed through the cracks of the boards just enough to illuminate the intensity of her glare and furrowed brows.

It was clear that Nora and Manny's sentiments aligned with Abby's, yet they chose silence over confrontation. Jordan and Nick, perpetually indifferent, remained on the fringe, more interested in the thrill of hunting and hurting enemies rather than the unfolding of drama within their group.

"Listen, what's done is done, alright?" Owen placed his hand on Nora's back, an action that sent a pang of jealousy through Abby's stomach. She eyed them both with disgust and forced herself to swallow down the brewing nausea. "Now, our best bet is to head back to Seattle. We can regroup–"

"Se- What?" Abby's eyes widened at the suggestion. "No– We're not-"

"We don't have a choice," he cut her off and took a step towards her, concern evident on his features.

"The hell we don't!" Her voice thundered. "We're not going back!"

"You're being reckless!" Owen snapped back with an accusatory finger, "We can't afford-"

"Four years!" Abby seethed, her frustration pouring out, "Four fucking years, gone to shit because of her!"

Owen's jaw clenched, tired of the constant hostility towards Mel. "You're looking at a whole town to go after us, you know that, right?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line.

"What then, Abby? You wanna start a war with these people, is that it?" His voice raised with each word. "We can barely keep up with the Scars!"

The weight of the past bore down on Abby, her blind rage and need for retribution chaotically clashing with the pragmatic choice he presented, one that resonated with the others as they too recognized the impracticality of her rage.

Her clenched fists trembled at her sides, torn between her relentless pursuit of revenge and going about it all sensibly. She would've almost agreed with him– almost– if it hadn't been for the small voice that came from behind him.

"He's right."

The room plunged into a deafening silence, the air undeniably thick with tension now more than ever. Mel's figure was almost entirely shielded by Owen at this point, her provocation igniting an instant outrage.

Abby's features darkened and she ripped her knife from the counter, raising it as she stormed towards Mel. How dare she? It was bad enough that she embodied a constant reminder of everything Abby and Owen could've been, but now she had the audacity to defy Abby despite being the one responsible for this entire mess?

Owen caught her arm and she lunged against his hold with a powerful shout, "Fuck you!"

He pushed Abby back just enough to create distance, opening his mouth to speak but only being met with a forceful shove and resounding slap. "And fuck you, too!"

Abby's chest heaved as she backed up and glared between the two; one a former friend, the other a former lover– both nothing more than traitors to her now. She scoffed and shook her head, swiftly turning on her heel to retreat through a backroom and subsequent door outside. Manny exchanged a quick look with Nora before slowly trailing after her, while Owen watched her storm out with an apathetic expression and a loose arm wrapped around Mel in a half-assed attempt of consoling her.

Outside, Abby leaned against the cool brick of the building, her skin radiating a heat that would surely be more welcomed in the winter versus now. The bitter taste of frustration lingered in her mouth and it seemed like nothing could soothe the tumult within, not even the loud buzzing and ticking of insects around could snap her out of it.

She slid down the wall until she hit the ground with a soft thud and rubbed her hands over her face. She felt so much all at once– anger, grief, sorrow, resentment. This was all she could think about, all that she worked so hard for, only for it to be ruined. She couldn't fathom being forced to take ten steps back when she was so close to ending this nightmare.

Quietly, Manny joined her side. Her leveled counterpart, the one that could ground her when she was too close from flying off the handles. At one point in time, Owen had been that for her, but it ended long ago– back when he still believed in this mission, when he still believed in them.

Manny understood Abby's turmoil well– hell, he harbored the same resentment. He figured him to be another asshole left in this world to begin with, but the belief was solidified once he broke Abby's heart.

However, he also recognized the necessity of unity.

"Abs..." His tone was soft, "you know I've got your back, right?"

She shifted slightly, nodding and meeting his eyes. "And you know I hate Owen just as much as you do... fuckin’ idiot seems to forget these two are the reason we winded up here, but–”

Abby gave him a pointed look, to which he defensively held a hand up, "Maybe we should go back to Seattle."

All Abby could muster was a half-hearted scoff before Manny spoke again, "I know it's not what you want– but now they know, and now they'll be expecting… Think of it as a chance to make no mistakes next time."

She looked back down between her knees, reluctantly acknowledging the wisdom in his words with a nod. She sighed, her shoulders easing a bit of tension, "We were so close, Manny."

"I know, Abs," he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his voice carrying the weight of shared disappointment. With a gentle jostle, he infused a touch of optimism reserved for moments like this, "But listen... Just when they think we're gone, we'll be right under their noses, yeah?"

The thought was enough to make her crack a smile.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #annasmasterlist #anna writes

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joelalorian · 6 months

Text

Tides of Desire - Chapter Four: Cut and Run

Pairing: Yacht Captain!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: TLOU no outbreak AU. Joel Miller is a luxury yacht captain running charters in the Caribbean. You join the crew as a deckhand and unexpectedly complicate Joel's peaceful existence. Basically the TLOU bunch on a Below Deck yacht.

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, adventure, alcohol, cursing injuries, fluff, angst, eventual smut. Reader is a badass. Joel is Captain Hottie. No use of y/n.

Chapter Four: Cut and Run

Wine drunk and worked up, Joel was beyond thankful the captain’s quarters were separate from the rest of the crew. Rock hard and aching for something – someone – he denied himself, his cock was in hand the moment the door was closed and locked. It didn’t take long as pent up as he was, long strokes of his cock with his left hand turned frantic and sloppy. He came hard, rope after thick rope of cum hit the glass door of the shower as Joel braced himself against the wall with his right forearm. Your name fell from his lips when the last rope hit the shower door, sounding more tortured than pleasured.

Quickly showering, the removable showerhead rinsing away the evidence of his lack of self-control, Joel fell into bed feeling all sorts of conflicted. The two of you spent a wonderful evening in the hot tub, sharing stories and more about yourselves. He surprised himself with that confession – he had no intention of saying a word about his attraction and developing feelings, for good reason. It would be so easy to break his own rule and just pursue you during the remainder of the charter season, but recollections from the past prevented him from giving in. Hence why he fled after nearly kissing you.

Joel fell into a restless sleep, dreams plagued with memories he’d rather forget, distorted by his subconscious due to the conflictions weighing him down, you became the specter haunting him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the fuck just happened?” Your voice barely registered over the sound of sloshing water left behind by Joel practically throwing himself away from you and out of the hot tub. Head spinning, you stood on shaky legs and slipped out, movements extra careful due to the mixture of wet flooring and amount of wine you drank. Your head was spinning, but not from the wine. Joel confused you.

You were both having a great time, conversation and wine flowing naturally, and the two of you becoming closer physically and emotionally until, suddenly, Joel’s demeanor changed. The eager softness in his eyes flashed away, detachment snapping into its place. He was gone without a word before you knew what was happening.

Exhausted all over again, you dried off and made your way to the crew mess to heat up the dinner Tess left for you. Taking your meal back to your bunk, you quickly changed and climbed into bed to eat. Vacillating between confusion and hurt, you thought it best not to linger in the crew mess in case everyone came back to see you like that.

It was a good decision as the crew returned shortly after you finished eating and you chose to remain in your cabin, the empty bowl placed on the floor next to your bunk. They must have had a fun night, the boisterous noise sounding through the door was filled with shrieks of laughter. You wanted to be happy for everyone, but their merriment was merely a reminder of how uncertain you felt about your own evening.

Knowing your mind would run wild without it, you took a sleeping pill to slow your thoughts. Your body desperately needed the rest anyway.

Sadly, you woke up ten hours later just as perplexed by Joel and his sudden, odd change in behavior. Already awake, Tess turned her penetrating gaze away from her phone as you stumbled out of bed. You grunted out a good morning before locking yourself in the loo. Unable to look at yourself in the mirror knowing you’d be a fright; you scrubbed your face clean and brushed your teeth before scraping your hair back into a messy bun. Finally, you glanced at your reflection. The bags beneath your eyes belied the hours of sleep you got, but it was as good as it was going to get today.

“Everything alright?” Tess questioned when you emerged at last. She could tell that something was off, had known it yesterday, too.

Shaking your head, you murmured, “Everything’s just cracking.” Torn between the need for food and the desire to hide yourself away for the rest of the season, you slumped down onto your bunk with a heavy sigh.

“It’s something to do with Joel, isn’t it?” Tess was too perceptive for her own good, getting right to the heart of the matter. Her feet landed on the floor with a gentle thud next to your bunk before she plopped down next to you. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m here if you want to talk. I’ve known him for a long time, know how he can be. I’ll keep your confidence, too, if that’s your concern.”

It was, given the closeness of their long-time friendship, but you took Tess at her word, recent events, and your mixed feelings about it all, falling from your lips for the next half hour. Tess listened intently, humming understandingly in spots, until you ran out of breath and words.

“Ugh, fucking Joel Miller,” Tess huffed. “This totally tracks for him. He’s very good at denying himself. He was burned once, it was… well, it changed his perspectives and priorities and for a while that is exactly what he needed. But now he can’t seem to breakout of the rigid morals he set for himself, and he can’t even see that it’s causing more damage than it’s helping.”

Your mind is reeling, trying to figure out what could have burned Joel so bad in the past. You were dying to ask, yet blissful ignorance was looking just as good. The heat of Tess’s gaze burned the side of your face as she watched you. Words failed you as your mind wandered.

“I know you want to ask and that you’re too kind to actually do it,” the older woman said, one hand awkwardly patting your shoulder. “It’s not my story to tell, but I will say this. Joel was reckless once and it bit him in the ass. Nearly derailed his career. In the end, though, it was probably the best thing that ever happened to him.”

Your wide eyes met hers, desperately trying to read the message her gaze was sending. Something reckless. Career almost derailed. Best thing to happen. It had to be something to do with Sarah, right? Something about her mom, maybe?

Tess could see the wheels turning behind your eyes and smiled kindly. “Keep your head up and keep doing your thing. He’s worth the wait if you have the patience. He’ll open up when he’s ready, trust me. I haven’t seen him like the way he is this season in a very long time.”

Questions, you had so many questions, but Tess was not the right person to ask. The answers had to come directly from the source and Tess just basically told you to give him time. Mumbling your thanks, you left the cabin in search of food and fresh air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft breeze with the scent of sea salt wafted across the bridge deck where Joel stood watching most of the deck crew ready the jet skis in the turquoise sea. He often let the crew take advantage of the amenities the yacht offered on their limited time off, provided they cleaned up after themselves and took proper care of all the equipment. Tommy was always one of the first to jump on a jet ski or sea bob and spend hours goofing off under the tropical sun. This time was no different as he readied one jet ski with Ellie on the back while Connor drove the other with Emmy holding tight behind him. Joel’s eyes tracked them zooming across the marina, breaking the soft plains of the water to reach the open sea. Once they were out of sight, his gaze shifted to the sun deck where Sarah, Talia, and Sammy were sprawled out under the sun’s rays.

Your absence was notable.

Were you laying low like he was?

Joel wondered what you were thinking after last night. He had no doubt you were confused – he left you, suddenly and without explanation. His own thoughts were still a jumbled mess, vacillating between self-preservation and wanting to dive headfirst into whatever connection was developing between the two of you. Honestly, he was getting sick of his own thoughts on the matter.

“Hey Texas,” Tess called, snapping Joel from his thoughts. “You gonna join in on the fun today or what?”

Brows pulling together, Joel shook his head. “Not today.”

“Do you enjoy making yourself miserable?”

Joel’s eyes shot to her, wide with surprise. “What?”

Tess shrugged, arms crossed in front of her chest, lips forming a flat line. “Just wondering if you enjoy making yourself miserable since you deliberately make decisions that contradict your own happiness.”

“Are you trying to confuse me with all those words? How, precisely, do I do that – make myself miserable and contradict my own happiness, hmm?” Joel’s eyebrows remained pinched, and he could feel a headache developing in the center of his forehead.

“Oh, come on, Joel. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Tess huffed in annoyance. “What happened with you and England last night?”

His head jerked back to face the water, “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Her narrowed eye stare remained focused on him as Tess continued to pry. “I already know, anyway. You let yourself enjoy time with her and then you fucked it up by running away without explanation. Classic.”

“She told you,” Joel replied, eyes glued to the horizon with an inscrutable expression. “Well, that answers one question about trust.”

“Are you for fuckin’ real, Joel?” Tess snapped, losing her patience, something that rarely happened outside of the galley. “You expect her to unwittingly ride this roller coaster with you, getting whiplash every which way without any explanation from you or anyone to talk to about it? You really are an asshole sometimes.”

She stalked halfway down the bridge deck before Joel responded, voice rough with defeat and regret. “What do you want from me?”

“Same thing you do, Joel. I want you not to be unhappy. You just need to get out of your own way for that to happen.” With that, Tess descended to the lower decks, leaving Joel to stew in his own thoughts once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tucked away in a shady corner of the sky lounge, you sipped at a diet cola and noshed on pretzels while reading, the sounds of your crew mates readying themselves for an adventure echoed across the deck. You couldn’t bring yourself to join them, not while feeling out of sorts pining over Joel. Besides, you didn’t want to run into him just yet. You were still mulling over the advice Tess gave you.

Space and time.

It was for the best, anyway. You were there to do a job, not get tangled up in feelings for someone who didn’t seem capable of returning them just then.

“There you are!” a sudden, excited voice declared. Looking up, the sight of Sarah’s bright, smiling face met your gaze. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. We’re going into town for some shopping. Come on!”

The younger woman did not give you a choice, tugging you to your feet and practically dragging you down to the crew deck. “Change your clothes. We leave in ten.”

“Sooo bossy!” you called over your shoulder, slipping out of your loungewear into a pair of soft, worn jeans and a fitted tee. Leaving your hair loose, you perched a pair of shades on your head and exited the cabin to find Sammy, Sarah, Talia, and Tess waiting for you. “Ready?”

“Are we ever. Time for a girls’ day!” Sammy cheered, causing the rest of the group to laugh.

Tess led the way off the yacht, opting to walk through the historic streets of San Juan rather than take an ordered car to the shops. It was a beautiful day, the temperature just right with the sun shining bright overhead. Conversation was easy, flowing from one topic to another without effort. Even Talia, normally mysteriously reserved, was buoyant and talkative. The burdens of confusing feelings weighing you down began to lift, thoughts of Joel fading to the background. There was nothing like some girl time and retail therapy to clear one’s mind.

The afternoon was spent pleasantly perusing the shops and exploring historic sites like La Fortaleza and Castillo San Cristobal. By evening, the five of you settled into a quaint little restaurant for tapas and cocktails.

“Tess said my dad was being an ass to you again. I’m sorry about that. I swear he’s one of the good ones.” Sarah leant into your side, swaying slightly from the buzz of consistently replenishing cocktails.

“There’s nothing sacred on the Radiance, is there?” you laughed. You knew better than to expect privacy on such a yacht, especially when people like Sarah and Tess had a stake in the gossip.

Shrugging unrepentantly, Sarah chuckled. “Seriously though, give him a chance. Okay? He’s worth it, he’s just so out of practice. Not to mention he’s really hard on himself.”

“It says a lot, you know. How the women in his life speak of him.” You met Sarah’s dark eyes with a soft gaze and sighed. “It’s just confusing, is all. But I don’t want to focus on that. I had fun today letting myself be in the moment with you all, so that’s what I’m going to keep doing. Everything else will happen when and if it happens. Yeah?”

“Thatta girl!” Sarah cheered, clinking her half empty glass with yours before downing the rest of the tangy liquid. “We’re definitely going to need a ride back to the yacht.”

The five of you returned to the boat laden with new bags from the Coach outlet along with a pile of souvenirs, feeling refreshed and tipsy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week passed with another charter for the crew of Radiance. It was the first charter with zero drama from the guests or crew, which was a pleasant change. The primary charter guests were a couple with two young children joined by the grandparents. They were mellow, exhausting themselves with water activities, and went to bed at a very respectable hour every night. Tess was pleased that none of them had crazy dietary restrictions or requests and she was able to really showcase her culinary talents.

You spent a lot of time entertaining the kids, giving the parents and grandparents some time to themselves to relax and even take a day trip or two. There were numerous trips down the slide, the young boys screeching with delight each time, and lots of jumping on the water trampoline. You took them for leisurely rides on the jet skis and taught them how to snorkel, pointing out sea turtles and tropical fish along the way. At Tommy’s insistence, the other deck crew picked up the slack while you played the glorified au pair, though no one seemed to mind.

Those five days were unlike any other charter you worked, spending more time having fun than actually doing anything you would consider work. A few times, you’d look up from whatever you were doing with the kids, eyes sparkling and mouth brimming wide with joy, and catch Joel’s eyes. He watched you with singular focus at times, his dark eyes drinking in everything you did. Given how busy the kids kept you, there were little to no interactions between you and Joel, nor was there energy left to dwell on things. Though you did wonder if you would continue the learning sessions at some point. Time would tell.

Before you knew it, the charter was over, and that wonderful family was leaving. Every member of the crew – even Bill, who shared several deep conversations with the grandpa – were sad to see them go, but none more so than you. The young boys were sobbing as you picked them up for one last hug goodbye. Your fingers smoothed over their blonde locks to sooth them, their mother, Michelle, flashing you a heartwarming smile all the while.

“You have been so good with them, thank you. They are really going to miss you. Maybe we could exchange numbers and connect sometime so they can see you again?” Michelle said. She told you they lived in New Jersey but had a beach house in Florida.

Eyes widening in surprise, you nodded. “Yes, of course! I’d love to see my little mates again. Wouldn’t that be fun?” You jostled the child still in your arms, finally earning a watery smile from the tow-headed boy. With your phone tucked away in your bunk, you gave her your cell number and asked her to text you so you could add her contact later.

Slipping the cell back into her bag, Michelle hugged you tight for several long moments. “Thank you, again, for everything. All of you were amazing, but you really made this special for my babies. You were so wonderful and caring; we’ll never forget it. In fact, let us know what boat you’ll be working on next season so we can plan our trip accordingly.”

It was the highest praise you’d ever received from a charter guest, and it left you feeling a little overwhelmed as tears threatened to spill. You could barely get a sincere thank you out before Michelle moved on with a knowing smile. Your watery eyes briefly met Joel’s and the softness of his chocolate orbs caused the first salty drop to spill over and you quickly turned away to surreptitiously swipe at your eyes.

Needless to say, it was the longest deboarding process you’d ever experienced as it was clear that no one wanted them to leave. It if weren’t for the next charter, Joel could have easily asked them to stay another week. As it was, the crew needed to turn the boat over and get some downtime before moving onto the next one.

Turning the boat over was an exceptionally easy job for once, the guests having been so lowkey and clean, tidying up after themselves despite Sarah’s insistence that they should leave that to her team. Tommy and Connor had kept the deck in pristine condition as well, so the washdown was done in no time. Before long, the crew settled in the main salon for the tip meeting.

“Before we get into the tip, I just wanna thank you all for your hard work. You all made this charter a dream for the guests, and I can’t think of a single thing we coulda done better. Special thanks go to you for bein’ so good with the kids and makin’ the trip fun for them,” Joel said, his eyes locked with yours for a noticeably long time before shifting around to the rest of the crew. “You’ve made me proud and clearly wowed the guests, if the tip is anythin’ to go by.”

Joel handed out the stacks of money to each of the crew and you stared at the wad of cash in your hand. The tip was insane at $3,000 apiece.

“Y’all set the bar high with this one. Let’s keep it up.”

“Well, this certainly calls for celebration!” Tommy announced with a clap of his hands. Turning to Joel, he added, “You should come out with us tonight, brother. At least for dinner. You never go out anymore!”

You watched Joel open his mouth, knowing he would decline, when his gaze flashed to you. His right hand rose to brush the scruff on his chin. “Yeah, alright. I’ll join ya.” Tommy’s joy at the response was infectious and everyone wandered off to start getting ready for dinner.

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Tess was already showered and rifling through her belongings when you stepped into the cabin. “Oh, I like that,” you greeted, catching sight of the blouse in her hands. “Paired with your black capris and strappy sandals, that would look brill.”

“That is exactly what I was thinking,” Tess chuckled. “What are you going to wear?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Rifling through your own clothes, you grabbed a matching set of undergarments. “Probably a sundress or something.”

Lips forming into a smirk, Tess hummed. “You should fancy it up a little. You do realize you’re the only reason Joel is coming out tonight, right?”

“What?”

Nodding emphatically, Tess smirked. “He never joins the crew on nights out until the last night of the season. This is definitely because of you.”

Again, the roller coaster with him. All week, you focused on being in the moment without worrying about Joel or your growing feelings for him. Now, he was suddenly joining the crew on a night out, something he supposedly never does.

“What do I do? How should I act?” You were starting to panic a little. How were you supposed to maintain the space and time you were giving him if he’s going to be right there?

Seeing the building panic in your eyes, Tess gripped your shoulders. “Relax. Breathe. Just be yourself and enjoy your evening. You don’t need to do anything special or different just because he’ll be there. Ok?”

Head bobbing in some semblance of a nod, you sucked in a deep breath. “Ok.” You had this; it was no big deal. Choosing the cutest sundress in your wardrobe, you topped with a faded jean jacket and finished getting ready – finger combing your locks into waves and dusting on a light layer of makeup.

You were chatting with Tommy and Ellie in the crew mess when Joel walked in, dressed in cargo shorts and a pale green button down, sleeves rolled up on his forearms and the top two buttons open showing the slightest glimpse of his bronzed chest. His thick hair was styled in that effortless way that you know took him a while to get just right. Your mouth dropped open mid-sentence at the sight of him and Tommy nudged your shoulder with a chuckle, using his forefinger to push your jaw closed. You scowled at him before turning your gaze back to Joel.

Joel looked good, too good. You were in trouble tonight and needed to play it cool.

Clearing your throat, you greeted Joel with a quiet, “Hey Cap.” He tipped his head in return, lips quirking up on one side. He clearly caught your initial reaction to the sight of him and you groaned internally. You were off to a great start playing it cool this evening.

The restaurant Tommy chose was within walking distance of the docking slip and the group strolled through the cobblestone streets of San Juan in twos and threes. You wound up walking next to Talia and cherished the opportunity to get to know her a little more. She was reserved yet wickedly funny, her sharp wit the first thing you noticed. The second thing you noticed was that she was acutely observant, as many quiet people are.

“So, you have a thing for the captain, huh?”

You stared at Talia wide-eyed. That came out of nowhere and you stumbled through a response. “Uh, I…how… what makes you say that?”

“I have eyes,” came her simple response.

“Congratulations?” Feeling completely wrong footed in this unexpected conversation, you resorted to snark.

“I don’t mean anything by it, just an observation. It’s clear that he has a thing for you, too,” Talia explained in her naturally even tone. “Neither of you are as subtle as you may like to think.”

“So I’ve heard,” you muttered. “It doesn’t matter though. Nothing will come of it while we’re on the yacht.”

Catching the disappointment in your voice, Talia arched a brow. “Why the hell not? You’re both single, consenting adults, yes?” You nodded and she went on to add, “Well, then what is the problem?”

That was the million-dollar question, right? The hell if you knew what the problem was but it was clear from your interactions with him so far that Joel would not make a move until after the season ended, if at all. You valiantly changed the subject, getting tired of everyone digging into your personal life. Couldn’t you just wallow in your developing desire for Joel without everyone else needing to know the details?

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Joel stood back, waiting for everyone to find their seats before taking his own at the head of the table. You were seated a few spots down the table between his brother and Sarah, across from Tess. The three of you were already deep in conversation about goodness knows what but his heart swelled knowing that the most important people in his life were drawn to you just as he was.

On the walk from the yacht, Joel decided he would attend not only dinner but also stay out for a couple drinks afterward. He owed you an explanation if for no other reason than to clear the air and a little liquid courage would make that easier.

Dinner passed peacefully. Joel was proud that this season’s crew were all low key without the usual internal drama. Everyone appeared to get along well, and any minor squabbles were handled with care. It was a refreshing change until he realized that the only source of any drama currently happening was himself.

After dinner, for which Joel picked up the tab, Tommy led the way to a nearby open-air bar with live music. It was loud and busy, and the group moved as one to settle in a corner away from the speakers.

“May I buy you a drink?” Joel asked before you could sit down, seizing the opportunity to speak with you.

“Sure. I’ll take an espresso martini, please.” You smiled though it didn’t quite reach your eyes as you followed him to the bar. You were weary and he couldn’t blame you.

Joel turned to you after placing the order with the bartender. “Listen, about last week –”

“Don’t worry about it,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, eyes shuttered. This was going to be harder than he thought. “We can just forget it… nothing actually happened anyway, right?”

“No can do,” he insisted. “I owe you an apology and an explanation for why ‘nothing actually happened’.” He made air quotes with his fingers.

The bartender delivered the drinks and Joel handed you the martini with a sigh. “Can we go sit over there for a minute? Just to let me get something off my chest?”

Nodding, you followed Joel to a bench off the far end of the bar. It was a quiet little nook where you could actually hear yourself think. You both sat, bodies turned slightly toward each other. He could not stop his eyes from roving over your face, hair, that dress. You looked beautiful and it pained him.

“I want to apologize for that night… for running off without a word.” Joel let his eyes convey the warmth that his words might lack. “I know you feel it, whatever this pull is between the two of us. I can’t keep my eyes off you and at the same time I can’t afford to be distracted during the season. I’m responsible for everyone aboard the yacht and I can’t lose sight of that.”

Your eyes were glassy, reflecting the twinkling lights of the bar as you sipped at your martini. You remained tight lipped, letting Joel do all the talking. He was uncertain if that was a good or bad thing.

“We were having such a wonderful time, talking, getting know more and more about each other as we shared the wine. Alone like that in the hot tub as the sun set and the stars started to twinkle, it was getting intimate. When we started getting closer and the wine hit a little harder, I almost kissed you.”

Your breath hitched at that, and you finally spoke. “And that would have been a bad thing?”

He could not tear his eyes away from your pouty lips. God damn, he was a fool. “Yes. And no. I have no doubt that it would have been a delicious, sweet kiss, but… I have a set of strict rules for myself and one of them is to never get tangled up with a member of the crew during season. In reality, I don’t let myself get tangled up romantically with crew members off-season, either.”

Joel watched you wince then nod, swallowing another sip of your drink. The strong concoction was already half gone.

“So, what, you panicked and ran off?” He couldn’t decipher your tone.

“Exactly. I feared that if I stayed there and tried to explain or pretended that nothing was wrong, I would just give in and kiss you. It was all self-preservation, really.” Joel explained as best he could.

“Hmmm.” He watched you carefully while you mulled over his words. “Sarah and Tess, they both told me that you had a rule like that. They told me to be patient and give you time. Would you really never break that rule?”

Shaking his head with a rye smile, Joel thought he really should have known that the women would spill his secrets in a heartbeat. “I’m not surprised. They are both big fans of yours and keep givin’ me grief about you. I hold myself to a certain standard, ya know? I set specific rules to maintain that standard after learning the hard way what could happen if I didn’t. No one else seems to get that.”

Your pretty eyes took on a faraway look as they shifted away from him. Joel wished he knew what you were thinking. The pair of you sat in an uncomfortable silence – the first one since you met – until you stood suddenly.

“I, er, appreciate your apology and all. It explains a lot.” You paused, gaze skipping around the rest of the bar before meeting his eyes once more. Joel gulped in anticipation of what would spill from your luscious lips next. It was not what he was expecting.

“It seems pointless to let whatever this is fester if you don’t ‘get tangled up’ with crew on or off season,” you blurted, brow furrowed. “I think we should maintain a little distance for the next few charters. Get fresh perspectives and all that.”

“What? No!” Joel called your name, adding,” That’s not…” but you were already striding way. He watched you whisper to Tess, who plopped her drink down on the table and accompanied you out of the bar.

Well, shit. That did not go well.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #yacht captain!joel miller #fanfiction #joel miller

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pascalscoffin · 5 months

Text

Away from the Devil pt. VI

Full Pedro Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pt. VII coming soon

Warning: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. I just don’t want kiddos here. Yeah it’s all rewritten with the reader added in if ya don’t like it don’t read it. Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Reader is around 24, Joel is 56. Reader is obsessed with Murder!Joel. Cursing. Typical tlou violence. Reader has… issues. One use of y/n

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You woke up in a hospital room with a throbbing in your head. “Fuck..” you mumbled, jumping when you saw movement from the corner of your eye. “Jesus!” You slip back on the bed. “Who the fuck are you?” She was… attractive, you could give her that, a nice looking woman for an apocalypse anyway. Which isn’t to say she looks nice cause she looks fucking rude. “Where are Joel and Ellie?” She squinted at you and crossed her arms. “You tell me who you are first. Then we’ll talk.”

You scoffed. “Fuck off. My head still fucking hurts by the way.” You rubbed the back of your skull. “They didn’t know who you were.” “Oh geez well that makes my headache completely go away. Look at that.” You scoffed and clenched your jaw. “My names y/n. Now. Where. Are. They?” The woman sighed heavily. “Marlene. Get up. Come on.” She shook her head and guided you out of your room.

You glared at the soldiers surrounding you as you followed her, trying not to rush to Joel’s side too fast. “Joel.” You took a deep breath, fighting the urge to check him over and make sure he was okay. “… where’s Ellie?” You looked over towards Marlene.

“She wasn’t hurt. Not even a scratch. She’s mostly worried about you two.” “Where is she?” Joel repeated. “We lost half our crew crossing the country. I had five men whose only job was to protect me and I still almost got killed.” “Hm. Maybe they weren’t very good.” “Stop.” Joel grunted beside you.

“How’d you do it? Is my point.” Joel took a deep breath and shook his head. “It was all her. She fought like hell to get here.” “She would’ve been dead on day one. You are the one person I never wanted to be in debt to. But I owe you. We all owe you.” “Just take us to her.”

“I can’t. She’s being prepped for surgery.” You and Joel looked at eachother before Joel looked at Marlene while you looked down. “What surgery?” Marlene took a breath before speaking.

“Our doctor.. he thinks the Cordyceps in Ellie has grown with her since birth.” “Why is she in surgery?” “It produces a kind of chemical messenger, it makes normal Cordyceps think that she’s Cordyceps too, that’s why she’s immune. He’s gonna remove it from her, multiply the cells in a lab, produce those chemical messenger, and then we can give it to everyone. He thinks it can be a cure, Joel. A cure.”

Joel sat back a little and took a while to speak. “… Cordyceps grows inside the brain.” You immediately felt sick to your stomach. Jesus fuck… “it does.” You looked up slowly as you saw her feet move towards the door. “Find someone else.” “There is so no one else. We didn’t tell her, we didn’t cause her any fear. There won’t be any pain.”

“No. No you take me to her. You take me to her right now!” Joel stood up and took a step and was immediately hit in the stomach with one of Marlene’s little Firefly soldiers’ guns. “Hey!” You stood up but when he took a step towards you, you growled lowly and knelt down to check on Joel, who nodded and put his hand up towards you before looking at the floor.

“Please… you don’t understand.” “I do. I was there when she was born, Joel. I promised her mother that I would save her child. I promised. So I do understand.” “Bullshit.” You looked up at her, your jaw clenched. “You understand? You made a promise to save her. Big fucking whoop. You’re sending her to her death without even fucking telling her. You’re a shitty friend and a shitty person.” You growled. “All for what? A maybe? Some fucking loser who THINKS it’s going to be a cure? Someone’s dying fucking wish and you’re stepping on it and rubbing it into the sand. Fuck you.”

Marlene’s jaw clenched tightly. “I’m sorry.” She looked at Joel. “I have no other choice.” “I do.” Joel responded, looking at you when you turned your head towards him. Marlene looked at him for a moment before nodding a little. “Take them out to the highway. Leave them there with their packs.” She pulled a knife- Ellie’s knife- from her belt and handed it to the soldier next to her. “Give him this.”

“He tries anything. Kill them. Both of them.” Marlene held her eye contact with Joel before looking at you as one of the soldiers yanked Joel to his feet and the other pushed you forward as Marlene left the room.

As you were being lead down the stairs your jaw was clenched so tight you almost thought your teeth were going to crack under the pressure when Joel slowed to a stop, you took one step before stopping and turning to him.

“What the fuck are you two doing? Keep walking.” One of them pushed Joel, causing him to bump you and knock you down a couple steps with him, not making you fall but causing you to stumble slightly onto the platform. “I said keep walk-“ his sentence was cut off with a groan as Joel slammed his elbow into his nose, knocking him into the other soldier before slamming him into the wall.

Joel pinned him to the wall with his body and angled his gun towards the other soldier, shooting him before he could get himself upright, then standing up and aiming at the other soldier. “Where is she?” “Fuck you.” “I don’t have time for this.” Joel shot him and turned away from him. Shots fired! shots fired! You heard over the radio.

You were pressed back against the wall, eyes wide as you watched Joel put Ellie’s knife into his pocket and then shove one pistol into your hand, and the other into his waistband before searching them for more ammo, splitting it between the two of you.

“Joel I don’t think-“ “shut up.” He turned to you and grabbed your shoulder, angling himself to look you in the eye. “You got this. I just need you to get my back, make sure I don’t get crept up on or nothin’ like that.” You looked down at the gun, then the guys on the ground and thought about how fast he’d handled that… “alright. Okay.” You looked back up into his eyes and immediately regretted it when you saw that furrowed brow thing he did when he looked at Ellie sometimes.

And then it melted into something else, something ravenous, dangerous.. and then he was turning around, holding the gun in his hands up and heading back up the stairs as he put his pack on. Jesus that shouldn’t have been as hot as it was… but god it was.

You followed him up the stairs quickly, putting your own pack on, and stuck close behind him, gun up as you peered behind him and into rooms you passed just in case, even making sure he got everyone in front of him. Of course, he did, and if he didn’t you didn’t need to catch them cause he would immediately turn and make sure he was the one that shot them in the head.

Until, as you were passing by a room someone ran out of the one on the opposite wall and tackled Joel to the ground, you flinched back and watched them wrestle with eachother before you got an angle to shoot him.

Only when you squeeze the trigger instead of that loud pop you heard a soft click. You looked down at the gun in your hands and then back up at them as Joel’s eyes widened a bit. The fucking fun was empty! You watched as Joel reached for the knife in his pocket, only for it to be slapped out of his hand before the gun was throwing him onto the ground.

You ran over to the knife quickly, your hands shaking as you opened it up before running over to the two of them and stabbing the guy in the neck, shoving him off of Joel as Joel let out a loud gasp as he drew in air, the man’s hands falling from around his neck. You let the knife slide out as the man fell to the ground, grasping at his throat.

You stumbled back a little as Joel got to his feet, your eyes locked onto the bleeding man as you swallowed thickly, your hand and Ellie’s knife covered in his blood, some had even gotten on your shirt and face when the knife had come out.

Joel’s voice faded in slowly as you watched the man bleed out, thinking back to the man that had almost killed you all those years ago, how his eyes had looked the same, full of light and then… dull, empty, and lifeless.

And then Joel was stepping in front of you and grabbing your face. “Hey.” You blinked rapidly, tears flooding your vision as you looked at him slowly, your eyes looking at the blood that had poured onto him, feeling a twist in your stomach you’d hadn’t felt since you were hiding out in the shed with one of the boys from Silver Lake, scared to be caught by David but in the throes of young passion.

Well that was new.

“We have to get Ellie before they start. Come on.” He took Ellie’s knife from you, cleaning it off as he started walking, grabbing the gun off the guy you’d just killed. You followed him slowly, your eyes glued to his lifeless ones. You thought killing a man would different, worse regardless of the situation, but you felt… lighter, relieved. It was nothing like killing a Cordyceps and that scratched at the back of your head as you and Joel made your way to Pediatrics.

After a while you got to the pediatric surgery ward, straightening up and tightening your grip on your gun as you walked through the door into the room behind Joel. A doctor and two nurses were standing over Ellie, the nurses pulling the oxygen mask off while the doctor stood and waited.

“Unhook her.” You stood behind Joel, silent as you looked at all the wires and needles stuck in her, swallowing thickly. “How did you get in here?” Joel raised his gun as the doctor stepped towards him. “I said unhook her.” He motioned to Ellie with it.

“I won’t let you take her.” He looked over and picked up a scalpel, pointing it at Joel. You couldn’t help but flinch at way the gunshot echoed when he shot the doctor in the head, causing the nurses to all but scream. “Unhook her.” He looked at the nurses, gun aimed towards them now. They looked at eachother, hesitant.

“MOVE!” Joel shouted. Now that was… a different kind of flinch. But this wasn’t the time to think about that. Joel just killed… so many people. And you, your first. Now is the worst time to think that way. The nurses sobbed and muttered please as they started unhooking her. “Cover her arm. Fast.” The nurse reached behind her quickly and taped a cotton ball to the pin prick before she raised her hands again. “Turn around.”

They spun around quickly as Joel reached down and picked up Ellie, you watched him, looked at the nurses, and then turned around and followed him out, swallowing thickly. You stepped onto the elevator with him and pressed the button he told you to press, hesitantly looking over at him. “… we couldn’t let them do it.” You whispered softly into the quiet of the elevator.

Joel shook his head slowly. “You were right. I couldn’t go through with it anyway. But her dying over a maybe… it’s not worth it.” He looked at you, and then looked forward as the elevator doors opened.

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You stepped out and when you saw an SUV with the hood up you headed towards it with Joel, stopping when you heard Marlene’s voice. “You can’t keep her safe forever.” You spun around and took a step towards her as Joel turned around, stopping when she pointed the gun towards you.

“No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, she’s going to grow up, Joel. And then you’ll die, she’ll leave. Then what?” She looked at you and then Joel. “How long till she’s torn apart by infected or murdered by raiders? Because she lives in a broken world that you could have saved.”

“Maybe. But it isn’t for you to decide.” Joel responded. “Or you. So what would she decide, huh? Cause I think she’d wanna do what’s right. And you know it.” Joel looked like he was starting to give in. “It’s not too late. Even now… even after what you’ve done.” Marlene started to lower her gun. “We can still find a way.” For a moment you started to believe the conflicted look on Joel’s face. How’d he gone from completely emotionless a moment ago and now seemed to be flooded with them completely flabbergasted you.

And then the shot rang out and Marlene fell to the ground with a yell, clutching her stomach. You looked at Joel quickly and saw that emotionless look back on his face again. Was he..? You looked at Marlene as you backed away, following Joel to the car as he put Ellie in, stopping halfway in when you heard Marlene groaning.

You watched as Joel closed Ellie’s door and walked around the SUV and over to her. You settled your foot back on the ground, watching him closely. You couldn’t stop watching him, it was like watching an accident or fire. You knew you should look away but there was some twisted part of you that found it… beautiful.

“No, wait. Wait, wait, wait. Please.” Marlene begged, her hand outstretched towards Joel. “Let me go.” She breathed heavily, wheezing. “You’d just come after her.” Joel pulled the trigger and turned around, holding eye contact with you as he came back to the suv, closed the hood, and finally tearing his eyes away when he climbed into the drivers seat. You got into the passenger seat beside him and slowly buckled your seatbelt.

The car was silent as Joel started it and then left the hospital parking garage. You were quiet for the drive, partially because you didn’t know what to say, and partially because you were scared of saying the wrong thing and sounding stupid, and then, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I… so probably a shitty time for this but I… I wanted to ask about Sarah.” You said softly, looking over at Joel slowly. It took Joel a while but he hesitantly looked over at you and took a deep breath. “Sarah.. was my daughter. Before this.” He cleared his throat. “What happened..? You don’t have to tell me but.. if you want to I’m listening.”

Joel nodded and looked forward. He was quiet for a while and you figured maybe he didn’t wanna talk about it, and then you heard him start talking. “It was the first day. My brother Tommy… got himself arrested, called me about.. midnight or so to bail him out. Took me about two hours to make it back, had to kill our neighbor in front of her.” He sighed heavily. “We were driving through town, trying to find a way out, military was blocking main exists so we had to figure something else out.. anyway a plane crashed in town and the truck flipped…” he was quiet for another minute or so, likely thinking back to that night.

“She hurt her ankle so I had to carry her while we ran from an infected.” He reached up and rubbed his face. “Soldier shot it but… kept his gun on us. I kept… I kept telling him we weren’t sick, that she just hurt her ankle.” He cleared his throat. “His.. commander or whatever… told him to shoot us. I.. I tried to get her away from it but I just.. I didn’t turn in time.. and he got her.” He shook his head. “I held her in my arms while she died.” He mumbled, staring at the road ahead of him, his fist curled tight on the console between you.

You hesitated before reaching out and curling your hand over his fist, looking up at him. “I’m so sorry.” You whispered softly. Joel didn’t look at you, watching the road with a tight jaw, but slowly his hand relaxed under yours and turned over, your fingers winding together even if it was for just a second. Then it was like his brain caught up with his hand and he glanced at your hands before slowly pulling his away to drive with both hands. “You should sleep.” He cleared his throat. “Might need you to drive at some point.”

You were a little embarrassed to tell him you didn’t actually know how to drive, so you just nodded and shifted to try and get comfortable. “Okay.” You mumbled before pulling your legs up into your seat and closing your eyes.

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Taglist:

@romanarose @orcasoul @caitlynsixxx @shotgun-shelby

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #pedrohub #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #ellie williams #away from the devil #away from the devil part six #Ellie tlou #Joel tlou #the last of us fanfiction

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Someone’s Something

Plot: Joel, Y/n and Ellie meet Henry and Sam, who try to convince them to team up to find their way out of Kansas City together.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: tlou ep.5 spoilers, languge, implied smut, guns, mention of death, sa and loss of a child (16+)

A/N: Happy Valentines, y’all!! My gift to you is some light heartbreak with some fluff to soften the blow 😉

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless your age is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Y’all have blown this lil’ ficlet idea up so much, I’m still shocked it’s this loved. I’m so excited to finish out the second half of the season with you guys. Hang onto your butts 🤍

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July 1st, 2002. Austin, Texas.

Y/n had integrated perfectly into the Miller’s life. Sarah adored her, Tommy loved her, and Joel couldn’t get enough of her. He’d never admit it to Sarah, but he was thankful that she’d taken matters into her own hands and snuck down to the hardware store that June day.

In the beginning of July, Sarah went away to a two-week summer camp. Joel and Y/n had seen her off on the bus, Joel fussing over whether or not she had everything she’d need. He didn’t do well when she was gone for more than a day, a combination of missing her dearly and parental worry. Y/n had made it her goal over the course of her trip to distract him as much as she could.

They’d made a dinner date at Joel’s house the day Sarah left, the first of fourteen that Y/n had to keep him busy. His days would be consumed by work, but his nights belonged to them. Y/n knocked on the front door of the house, carrying a six pack she’d picked up on the way.

Joel hurried to the door, swinging it open and enveloping Y/n in a hug. She laughed, clinging to his neck as he literally dragged her into the house. Joel’s lips were on her the second the door shut.

“Missed you,” he mumbled between kisses.

“You saw me, like, six hours ago,” Y/n managed to say.

“Way too long,” Joel smiled against her lips.

Y/n chuckled, “Yeah, well, if I die from lack of oxygen,” she wiggled a hand between their smushed chests, “You’re gonna miss me a whole lot more.”

Joel wrapped an arm around her neck, smiling so big his cheeks hurt. That was the effect Y/n had on him. She’d turned his curmudgeon qualities, plying them like clay until they were soft. He was a new man with her in his life.

“Joel,” she said softly.

“Yeah?” He was barely taking in her words, focused on how her lips were starting to swell from his attention.

“What’s burning?”

It didn’t register at first, then he remembered the food was still in the oven. “Shit,” he muttered, letting her go to run back to the kitchen and save their dinner.

Y/n chuckled, kicking off her shoes and heading in to help him.

Joel’s attempt at a simple roast chicken and potatoes turned out slightly crispy, but good, all in all. They’d eaten it at the table, Joel’s hands stretched across the surface to hold Y/n’s.

After their meal, they retired to the living room. Joel turned on the stereo and fell onto the couch, Y/n laying her legs across his lap.

“Well, day one’s almost over,” she said, “How’re you feeling?”

Joel sighed, “She called earlier when they got there. Sounded real excited.”

“And you could not sound happier about it,” Y/n chortled, “Joel, she’s going to be fine.”

“I know that, it’s just,” Joel strroked his hand over Y/n’s calf, “It’s been me and her for…ever. When she’s off it just…”

Y/n watched her boyfriend with soft eyes, waiting for him to say more.

“I know she’s growin’ up, she’s always been independent, but,” he paused staring down at his hands, “It gets easier and easier for her every year to get on that bus. Makes me think about the day she’ll leave for good.”

“You know that no matter where she goes,” Y/n offered, “She’s always coming back here. She loves you too much.”

Joel gently smiled, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s leg. She always knew the right thing to say.

“And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she kinda loves me too,” Y/n smirked.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to work with there,” Joel winked.

Y/n giggled, her eyes drifting over Joel’s shoulder to the corner of the living room. An acoustic guitar sat propped up in a stand.

“Y’know, I still haven’t heard you play,” she said, nodding to the instrument.

For as much as he loved music, he still got a little bashful about his talent. “I sound like everyone else,” he replied.

“Yeah, nice try,” Y/n wasn’t so easily discouraged, “Play me something.”

Much like his daughter, there wasn’t a lot Joel could deny Y/n. If it was going to make her smile, he’d gladly do it. He lifted her legs off of him and went to retrieve the guitar.

“Does the audience have any requests?” Joel asked, settling back down beside her and fiddling with the tuning pegs.

Y/n tucked her legs into her chest, barely containing her grin, “Something sweet.”

Joel finished tuning the guitar and took his position. He hadn’t played for anyone other than Sarah in a very long time.

The first pluck of the strings relaxed them both, Joel settled into the piece quickly. Y/n watched his fingers dance up and down the string, a series of movements only he knew. It sounded like an old folk song, the kind that told the tale of doomed lovers torn apart by tragedy. She had enough musical knowledge to know it was in a minor key. Sweet, it was not, but it was brimming with passion, and the way Joel watched the strings so intensely only added to it. Y/n was taken aback by the simple beauty of him, pouring himself into the music.

When it was over, a few final notes slowing the tempo before stopping entirely, Joel looked over to Y/n, a whisper of a smile playing upon his lips. Their eyes connected, the ever present flame between them stretching the distance between their bodies. In that moment, Joel was thankful they were alone.

In the same set of seconds, Joel blindly set the guitar down to the side and Y/n surged forward, the two of them meeting in a heated kiss. Y/n held both of Joel’s cheeks in her hands while he maneuvered her on top of him, their lips never losing their connection. The sadness of the song had drawn them together, both needing to feel the fullness of each other’s devotion to counter the loss that the notes had grieved. That wasn’t them, they said with each touch, it could never be them.

—————————

September 28th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

Fall had hit Texas, as much as it could affect the south, anyway. Sarah and Y/n were in the backyard of the Milller home. Sarah had her first soccer game of the season that weekend and she wanted to get in some extra practice.

“Okay,” Y/n called from the goal, “Don’t go easy on me.”

“Yeah, right,” Sarah scoffed, she was never afraid to show the full force of her talent on the field. Faking Y/n out, she broke to the left before making a sudden right turn and shooting the ball through the goal.

“Yes,” she exclaimed, pulling her fists down in celebration.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Y/n smirked, coming up beside Sarah as she did a little victory dance, “Don’t get too cocky. Let’s work on your goalkeeping.”

Sarah grooved her way back to the goal, “Okay, but I’m kinda spectacular at that too.”

“Well, we certainly don’t need to work on your confidence,” Y/n remarked. Sarah had the same cockiness, reserved only for things she was truly great at, as her father.

Joel materialized then, coming through the back door and watching his girls from the deck. “How we lookin’?”

“Today, Taft Middle School,” Y/n replied, catching the ball with her heel as Sarah kicked it, “Tomorrow, FIFA.”

Joel smiled proudly, both at Sarah and Y/n. Most women would have kept distance between them and their partner’s child. Y/n had jumped in headfirst, determined to be there for Sarah as much as she wanted her. She was the feminine influence his daughter had been denied all her life.

“Alright,” Y/n announced, “Good?”

Sarah nodded, “Good.”

Joel saw an opportunity and couldn’t pass it up. He carefully made his way down the steps of the deck, sneaking through the grass and up behind Y/n just as she was about to make her shot. As she wound her leg back, Joel wrapped his arms around her middle and lifted her into the air.

Y/n shrieked as she was swung around, “Joel!”

“Sarah, steal it,” he yelled, smiling as Y/n wriggled in his embrace.

Sarah surged forward, avoiding Y/n’s flailing legs as she fought against Joel, and snatched the ball. She moved through the grass effortlessly and landed a perfect kick into the net.

Laughing heartily, Joel finally released Y/n back to the ground. He shared a high-five with his daughter as she bounded back to them.

“You two are awful,” Y/n gave Joel a shove to his chest, her wide grin contradicting her words.

Joel hung an arm around his girlfriend’s neck, pressing a kiss to her temple. “C’mon,” he separated from Y/n and clapped his hands, “Two-on-one, girls vs. boys.”

“We’re gonna destroy you,” Sarah teased, coming to stand beside Y/n.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” he quipped, standing in front of the goal.

The three of them stayed out until sunset, practicing plenty, but laughing more than anything.

—————————

December 25th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

The Millers didn’t do anything spectacular for Christmas. A church service on the 24th, a simple dinner on the 25th, and presents.

It had been decided that both Tommy and Y/n would spend the night, it would make waking up and opening gifts easier than waiting for them to drive over. Tommy had taken the collapsable cot, his body was still used to military accommodations, while Y/n had gone for the couch. Joel and her were still hesitant to spend nights together, sleeping over at the other’s only when Sarah was away at her own sleepovers. Christmas didn’t feel like the time to test any boundaries.

Just past midnight, Y/n was still wide awake, tossing and turning on the sofa. There was a light snowfall happening outside and she hoped if she watched the flakes flutter through the air long enough, she’d drift off to sleep. So far, she’d had no such luck.

She took stock of the living room in its entirety. A fresh pine tree sat in the corner, a modest stack of presents surrounding the trunk. Two stockings were hung on the walls, Sarah and Joel’s names stitched across each. The room still faintly smelled like the batch of cookies her and Sarah had baked earlier in the evening. Even in the dark and completely silent, the house felt warm.

Footsteps down the stairs drew Y/n’s attention away from the decorations. She expected to see Sarah tiptoeing in to sneak a peek at the presents. Instead, Joel’s broad shadow entered the room.

“Can’t sleep?” Y/n asked from the couch.

Joel shook his head, “Nope.”

Y/n gave a small nod, pretending like the silence wasn’t as full of asking as it was. Joel’s posture had purpose in it, he wasn’t leaving until he got what he came for.

He tipped his head back towards the stairs, his eyes never leaving Y/n’s. “C’mon,” he said, his voice raspy with near sleep.

Y/n smiled to herself, throwing off her blanket and crossing the room to take Joel’s hand. The two of them tiptoed back up the stairs, trying not to wake Sarah or Tommy. Y/n knew the walk to Joel’s bedroom like the back of her hand, navigating in the dark made no difference. She certainly didn’t need Joel’s hands on her hips to guide her, but she welcomed them anyway.

Once the door shut, their routine commenced. Joel went to his dresser, blindly reaching into one of his drawers and tossing Y/n one of his flannels. Y/n slipped it on over her t-shirt, the sleeves ending way past the tips of her fingers. They made their way to their dedicated sides of the bed, Joel closest to the door because he felt better being a wall of protection between Y/n and the world.

“We have to get up before Sarah,” Y/n reminded him.

“We’ve got a 50% chance of makin’ it down before her,” Joel said, his hands gliding around her body to pull her into him, “Christmas morning, she’s up at the crack of dawn.”

Y/n drew closer to Joel, resting one hand on his chest and the other gripping the back of his neck. Already, she could feel her body relaxing in a way the couch just couldn’t coax out of her.

All the tension Joel had been carrying in his spine went lax the moment Y/n’s fingers grazed his skin. He was finding it harder and harder to sleep without her.

“Thank you,” she said out of the blue.

“For what?” Joel asked.

Y/n’s fingers danced along the line between the ends of his hair and the base of his skull. “For letting me be a part of all this,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s heart swelled, he took one of her cheeks into his hand and let their lips drift towards one another. Six months in, and he wasn’t sure if he could fall any harder in love with Y/n. She wasn’t just his, she was theirs. She was a permanent fixture in their home, the house a little less bright when she was absent from it. She had become a confidante to Sarah, a best friend to Tommy and everything to Joel. How could he not want her in every part of their lives?

“‘M afraid you’re stuck with us, Rosebud,” Joel smiled after he pulled back, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone.

“No place I’d rather be,” Y/n returned his grin.

Pressing one final kiss to her forehead, Joel tucked Y/n against his chest, his chin resting atop her head. She let her hand drift around to his back, her fingers spreading across the expanse as she tried to hold as much of him as she could. They fell asleep within minutes, the gentle snowstorm outside creating beauty that would only enhance the magic of Christmas for the Miller family.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

“Eye on me! Eyes on me!”

Joel’s eyes slid to the other side of the room, to the man with the barrel of his gun pointed at Ellie. Her and Y/n both had their hands raised high.

“You don’t have to worry about what to say,” the young man said, “We don’t wanna hurt you. We wanna help you.”

Joel watched him, he was shifting his weight between both feet, no expert marksman was that nervous to threaten someone’s life. Joel felt significantly better about his chances.

“Okay.”

“Okay, um…” the young man paused, “I don’t know what the next step is with something like this, but if I lower my gun…we didn’t hurt you…so you don’t hurt us…right?”

Joel stared him down, “That’s right.”

“That’s a weird fuckin’ tone, man,” their enemy replied.

“That’s just the way he sounds,” Ellie interrupted, first looking to the stranger and then back to Joel, “He has an asshole voice. Joel, tell him he’s okay.”

Joel stared, nearly a hint of a smirk at his lips, “Everything is great.”

“Dude…” Ellie muttered.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Y/n intervened, looking to the man, “Now drop the fucking guns before I second guess myself.”

“That wasn’t any better,” Ellie exclaimed.

“Fuck! Okay, listened,” the stranger started, his voice practically trembling, “I’m gonna trust you.”

He then stopped to signal something to the child, Y/n recognized it as ASL. They communicated something none of them could understand.

“But if any of you guys try anything,” the man kept his gun aimed at Ellie, nodding to Joel and Y/n, “Yeah? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ellie whispered, her heart was in her throat.

The child backed away from Joel and Y/n’s mattress, his aim still firmly locked onto them. Y/n was trying to get her heartbeat back down to a normal range.

“Can I sit up?” Joel asked, his voice was still on edge.

“Yeah,” the stranger conceded, “Slow. Get up slow.”

Joel obeyed, rising to a seated position without any rush. He raised his hands, the left one grazing Y/n’s injured right. Shockingly, the fleeting touch made her feel a little less nervous. If Joel was good for nothing else, at least he was a good fighter. They could get out of this easily, if necessary.

“Who are you?” Joel asked.

“My name’s Henry,” the now-named stranger answered, “That’s my brother, Sam. I’m the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now,” Henry finally lowered his gun, “My guess is you’re running a close second. Her too.”

Y/n and Joel looked to one another, that ambush was going to come back to bite them in the ass, one way or another.

“Henry,” Y/n spoke up, lowering her hands and laying them palm up in her lap, “We’re gonna need a lot more than that.”

The five of them ended up huddled around a lantern, snacking on their dwindling food supply and waiting for the rest of the story to unfold. Henry had made it clear that he had to get some food in his brother first. It had been Ellie’s idea to share what they had left.

“Where’d you get these?” Henry asked, chewing on a cracker.

“From Bill,” Ellie answered, “He’s dead.”

Y/n and Joel had been watching Sam, digging into what they’d shared with him as if he hadn’t eaten in days. There was a real possibility of it, or something along the lines. They both wordlessly handed what was left of their portions to the boy, who in return, signed something to his brother.

“He says ‘thank you,’” Henry relayed, “I’m guessing you don’t have much so, this means a lot.”

“How old is he?” Ellie asked.

The brothers talked amongst themselves, with Henry answering, “He’s eight.”

Ellie nodded, “Cool. I’m Ellie.”

“Y/n,” Y/n spoke up, wanting to try and make the child feel as comfortable as the circumstances would allow.

Henry spelled out the names for Sam, who responded with a sign that both Y/n and Ellie assumed meant ‘cool.’

Ellie smiled before smacking Joel on the knee and waiting for him to introduce himself.

“I’m Joel,” he swallowed his last bite, “Look, you ate, we didn’t kill each other, let’s call this a win-win and move on.”

Henry dusted off his hands, “Well, I’m betting that y’all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun’s up, I’ll show you one.”

Joel and Y/n thought it over separately before glancing over at one another. If Henry hadn’t killed them by now, he wouldn’t. He already knew their supply was low, the only reason he was sticking around was because he needed something from them.

“Okay,” Y/n answered for them, earning a quick turn and glare from Joel, “Sam can take our bed. As soon as morning hits, you show us the route.”

Henry scoffed, “Just like that you’re gonna trust us?”

“I know the eyes of a liar, Henry,” Y/n leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee, “And you don’t have ‘em. You weren’t even going to kill us in the first place, and you certainly weren’t gonna make him do it.”

Joel was ready to jump in at any second, but Y/n spoke with such precision and intention, he couldn’t come up with any reason to stop her.

“So how about we get some sleep,” Y/n continued, “And tackle this tomorrow?”

Henry’s eyes focused in on Y/n, someone as calculated as she was was either the most honest person on the planet or so calcuating and conniving, they could deceive the worst of humanity.

“Okay,” he landed on trust, “First thing.”

Ellie and Sam settled onto their makeshift mattresses, while the adults sat against the walls of the apartment. Henry on one side, Joel and Y/n on the other.

“What happened to equals?” Joel asked, the edge to his words undercutting the softness of their volume.

“Would what you have said been any different?” Y/n countered, watching as Joel tried to come up with an answer that differed from hers, “Exactly.”

The two of them stayed close to one another, without actually touching. Y/n was still slightly rattled from waking up with Joel’s hand over hers.

“Although my fucking neck’s gonna be messed up all day,” Y/n mumbled, trying to find a comfortable position to rest her head against the wall.

While they trusted an already sleeping Henry enough not to kill them, instinct told both Y/n and Joel to not leave themselves in such a vulnerable positon again. Sleeping sitting up was the only option that would allow them a little bit of rest.

And Joel hated what he was about to offer.

“You can…” he pointed to his shoulder, “If you want.”

“I don’t want” Y/n quickly replied.

Joel sighed in exasperation, “Forget I offered.”

He crossed his arms and settled against the wall, shutting his eyes and shutting down his momentary lapse into generosity.

Y/n inhaled, trying to get over herself. She was getting way too much up close and personal time with Joel to feel comfortable. But it was either another dose or a hideous day of lingering discomfort without the blessing of Ibuprofen.

She awkwardly scooted closer to him until their thighs were touching, causing Joel to open one eye. He looked down at their parallel bodies and back to Y/n.

“Just don’t grab my hand,” she grumbled, laying her head down on his shoulder and praying that her stomach stayed unaffected.

Joel’s body stiffened as she rested on him, a quick shot of adrenaline running through his extremities. He wanted to pretend to be unmoved, unbothered by her touch, but it was impossible. He would never fully be without affection for the way she felt against him.

“Go ahead,” Y/n said, sensing his discomfort but mistaking it for simply physical.

Joel hesitated a few seconds before shaking himself out of his doubt and resting his head on top of Y/n’s.

When the weight of Joel’s skull fell on hers, Y/n’s natural instincts took over and she almost, almost, tucked into him more. It was by the grace of God that she caught herself before she did it. No matter how hard her mind loathed him, her body would have accepted him back in a heartbeat.

The two ex-lovers sat against the wall, still trying to convince themselves that they were miles apart.

—————————

Just as the night before, they woke up so much closer than intended.

Y/n had fully curled into Joel, snuggling into his chest at some point during their glorified nap. When she woke up to the rough scratch of his flannel agaisnt her cheek, drowsiness did not immediately remind her she was in the year 2023. In her sleep-adled state, it was winter of 2002.

When consciousness pulled her back to the land of the living, she lightly groaned. Why were their sleeping selves making everything so complicated?

Y/n rolled off of Joel, causing him to sharply inhale. He blinked a few times, rubbed a hand over his face and evaluated the room. Henry was still asleep, but Sam and Ellie were already awake and sitting on the edges of their beds.

Y/n was beside him, at least twelve inches of space between them.

“I do anything in my sleep?” Joel asked.

Y/n shook her head, sucking on her bottom lip, “Nope.”

Joel wasn’t buying it, “Then whydya got that look on your face?”

“I know why,” Ellie teased in a sing-song tone.

Y/n let out two loud claps, startling Henry awake, and got to her feet. “Rise and shine, time to work.”

Joel stayed on the ground, watching how fast she moved around the room. Something had happened and it had messed with her. He ran a hand over his right shoulder, noticing that it was warm when the rest of him felt cold. He peered back over at Y/n, rifling through her backpack to find Ellie and Sam breakfast. He watched how she crouched down and handed the kids what was assuredly the lion’s share of her rations. How she held up a questioning thumbs up to Sam, who in return, smiled and copied the gesture. How she cared. She still cared so much.

It was killing him.

But there were bigger things to worry about than the stirring in his heart for the woman who perhaps, hadn’t changed that much at all.

————————————

Once fed and watered, the group of five headed a few floors up to the apartment building’s conference room. Henry had promised it had the best view of the city.

“Welcome to Killa City,” he announced, showcasing the place in daylight through the massive windows.

“No FEDRA,” Joel observed.

“Not as of ten days ago, no,” Henry replied.

“We always heard KC FEDRA was-“

“Monsters? Savages?” Henry finished for Joel, “Yeah, you heard right. Raped and tortured and murdered people for twenty years.”

Y/n looked down at her shoes, “Fucking hell.” It was stories like Kansas City that were one of her reasons for joining the Fireflies.

“And you know what happens when you do that to people?” Henry continued, “The moment they get a chance, they do it right back to you.”

“But you’re not FEDRA,” Joel stated.

Henry paused before answering, “No…worse. I’m a collaborator.”

Joel shook his head, “I don’t work with rats.”

Y/n wasn’t so quick to walk away, Henry had too much of a heart it seemed to be a true collaborator. He had a story.

“Yeah, you fucking do,” Henry said, “Today you do, ‘cause I live here and you two don’t. That’s how I followed you here. I know this city and I’m gonna help you out.”

Joel watched Henry as he spoke, trying to see through him, “Why help us?”

“I saw what you two did,” Henry answered, “The way you killed those men. Now I know where to go, but I don’t know how to make it through alone, not if it’s just Sam and me.”

“You seem capable enough,” Joel replied, “You’re armed.”

“You’re wrong and wrong,” Henry said, “Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at you was the closest I’ve ever come to being violent.”

Y/n nodded, no one let their hand shake that much when holding a loaded gun.

“So that’s the deal,” Henry stated, “I show you the way, you clear the way.”

Joel didn’t need anyone else slowing them down or making them more noticeable. And partnering with Henry would only make them bigger targets.

At the table behind them, Ellie and Sam were seated, reading from Ellie’s pun book. The energy was divided down the room; the grown-up side was deathy heavy while the kid’s side was warm and uplifting.

“Haven’t heard that in a long time,” Henry smiled, watching his little brother laugh.

Joel turned back to the window as he tried to put distance between him and the moment. Y/n glanced over at him, watching as the cogs in his mind turned. Her mind was already made up, it would have been wonderful if they could avoid an argument.

“So how’re we getting out?” Joel relented, turning to Henry.

Henry fetched a piece of paper from one of the drawers, office supplies had never been in high demand post-pandemic. He sketched out a square, writing down the names of the roads that cut through the city.

“Highways…” he pointed to one section, “Downtown,” then to the other, “Us. This whole area belongs to Kathleen.”

“And she is…?” Y/n asked, standing between Joel and Henry.

“Leader of the resistance,” Henry answered, “You can see the way we’re bounded by highways. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question.”

“So how do we get across?” Ellie asked.

Henry banged a fist against the table to get Sam’s attention, signing something to him after. Sam went to drawing on his magnetic erase pad, Joel wasn’t made to feel any better about a kid being involved in the planning of their escape.

Sam held up his pad, having written the word ‘Tunnels’ on it.

Henry snapped his fingers, “Boom.”

“Kansas City has a subway?” Joel asked.

“No,” Henry answered, “But they do have maintenance tunnels. There’s a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including…” he pointed down to a specific section of his sketch, “A bank building here,” he began to draw their route, “So we enter the tunnels here, travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential. There’s an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, pedestrian bridge over the river,” Henry dropped his pencil, “Free as a bird.”

“You’re right,” Joel admitted, “It’s a great plan. So what do you need us for?”

Henry hesitated a moment, “You notice anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange shit you’ve already seen?”

“No Infected?” Ellie guessed before Y/n and Joel could.

“Oh, there’s Infected,” Henry replied, “Just not on the surface. FEDRA drove them underground fifteen years ago, and never let them come back up. It’s the only good thing those fascist motherfuckers ever did.’

Joel looked between Y/n and Ellie, “So you want us goin’ into a tunnel?”

“Everyone thinks that it’s full of Infected,” Henry quickly corrected, he sensed Joel’s doubt, “Including Kathleen, which means that we’re not gonna be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is…it’s empty.”

“You know this?” Y/n questioned, “You’ve seen it? With your own eyes?”

“No,” Henry replied.

Joel took a deep breath, hands on his hips again. Y/n sighed and rested her elbows on the table. Henry was losing them both.

“But the FEDRA guy that I worked with told me that it’s clean,” the young man continued, “Completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“How long ago?” Y/n asked, shutting her eyes as if it could shut out their problems.

“Like,” Henry shrugged, “Three years ago.”

Joel scoffed, glancing to Ellie as if asking if she was believing this either.

“Okay, maybe there’s one or two,” Henry quickly said, “But you can handle it.”

“You’re making this sound a whole lot simpler than it is,” Y/n responded, looking to Joel, whose eyes were already expectantly waiting on her. “We need a minute.

Y/n pushed open the glass doors, bringing them outside the conference room and giving them a sliver of privacy.

Joel pointed a finger behind them, “You still feel good about this?”

“Not exceptionally, no,” she answered truthfully, “But we don’t exactly have a lot of other options, now do we?”

“If this guy’s gonna endanger our lives more than if we were on our own,” Joel argued, “Then we’re better off-“

“Fighting our way through a city we’ve never been in with targets the size of Texas on our backs?” Y/n finished for him, “Look, I don’t wanna go down there either. But we’re guaranteed a very slow, very painful death if we go it alone. I’d rather have allies and stand a chance, at least.”

Joel wanted to fight tooth and nail, but he knew she was right. She’d always had a talent for being right.

“Plus, it’ll give you plenty to lord over Tommy’s head when we get to Wyoming,” Y/n quipped, her mouth still frowned but her eyes were lit up with humor.

Joel huffed, he’d have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire. The thought of seeing his brother and his ex together again was a sight he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to see.

Without another word, and a silent concession from Joel, the two of them marched back into the conference room where the debate was still being held.

Henry pointed to Ellie, “She says y’all fought off two Clickers. Is that true?”

Joel and Y/n uncomfortably shifted, the dread sweeping over them.

“And you’re still alive,” Henry stated, “You see? You’re the right people. If it gets bad down there, we turn around, and run right back out the same way we came.”

Joel was about one poorly constructed sentence away from giving the whole idea up, “Oh, that’s your great plan?”

“No, that’s my dicey-as-fuck plan,” Henry fired back, “But as far as I can tell, it’s our only shot.”

Sam signed something to Henry.

“They’re saying,” Henry narrated as he signed back, “They’re going to help us escape,” he turned back to the party, “Right?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “That was a low fuckin’ blow, man.”

Henry didn’t seem bothered at all by the manipulation.

Joel’s jaw twitched as he thought it all over. Y/n could practically feel his unease. She craned her neck back, muttering more into his body than at him, “Lesser of two evils.”

With every fiber of his being, Joel wanted to fight. But instead, he let his hands fall against his legs, admitting defeat.

—————————

The team got across the city with minimal close calls, every once in a while there’d be a truck or patrol group to avoid. They got to the bank building intact and only slightly out of breath.

“We need to get outta sight,” Joel said, every entrance/exit of the place was structured in a glass wall.

“Uh, I-I-I think it’s this way,” Henry pointed towards one of the halls, the rest of them following.

They trailed through the building till they hit a back door, hopefully leading to the tunnel entrance. Joel and Y/n entered it cautiously with their guns drawn.

“This should be it,” Henry announced, “You ready?”

Joel looked to Ellie, “Get your gun out.”

Rebelling in her own small way, once again, Ellie pulled out the gun from her jacket pocket. At this point, Joel wasn’t surprised in the least that she wasn’t heeding his advice. Him and Y/n marched forward regardless and took the lead. They entered through another door, delivering them into the tunnel system.

“You see?” Henry proved, “It’s empty. The plan is good.”

Joel and Y/n quickly shushed him. “‘The plan is good?’” Joel repeated, “We’ve been down here two seconds. We don’t know anything.”

Henry looked to Ellie, “Your dad’s kind of a pessimist.”

“I’m not her dad.”

“He’s not my dad.”

“He’s not her dad.”

Joel, Y/n and Ellie’s protests overlapped.

“Just point your light forward,” Joel instructed, tightly gripping his own, “And be ready to run.”

Y/n steadied her breathing and began to move beside Joel down the underground maze.

They walked for around an hour, snaking down the sets of tunnels, holding their flashlights and handguns as if they were life itself. Eventually, they turned down a hall with child’s art painted all along it. The door was even painted as castle. All of them examined the walls in quiet confusion.

Sam bounded forward, wanting to go through and explore. Joel threw his hand out to stop him, “No.”

Y/n tucked her flashlight under her chin and gripped her pistol, sharing an affirmative nod with Joel that they were ready. He slowly turned the doorknob and it creaked open, revealing a room that looked…civilized.

The whole place looked like a daycare center. There were toys scattered throughout storage bins, art and books against the walls, small cups, and a faded soccer goal painted across one of the cinderblock walls.

“I heard about places this this,” Joel commented, taking stock of their surroundings, “People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

“What happened to them?” Ellie asked.

“Maybe they didn’t follow the rules and all got infected,” Joel replied.

While Ellie and Sam sat down, playing with a few of the toys, Y/n, Henry and Joel scanned the room. Whoever had been living there, they’d been gone long enough for a layer of dust to settle across everything.

“Hey,” Joel called to Ellie who was being a little too loud, “Keep it down. We’re not out yet.”

“Ah, c’mon,” Ellie groaned, “Can we just rest here for a while? There’s, like, actually shit to do here.”

“Wouldn’t be so bad to wait the light out a bit,” Henry agreed, “Safer in the shadows when we pop back out on the other side.”

Joining Ellie and Henry, Y/n tilted her head in a slight shrug to Joel. It was a smart decision and he was just going to have to get over himself.

Joel shrugged back to the group, raising an eyebrow and going back to checking out the room.

Ellie and Sam occupied themselves by reading comic books and messing around with some of the toys. Henry, Joel and Y/n rested at a table, putting their feet up without actually relaxing at all. At some point, Ellie and Sam switched to kicking a soccer ball around on the makeshift field. Y/n watched carefully as Ellie interacted with the boy, she was so caring and patient. She’d confided that she didn’t have any brothers or sisters, but the glow coming from her radiated big sister energy.

Y/n scooted her chair back and walked across the room. “Can I join?”

Ellie enthusiastically began to switch the ball between her feet, trying to fake Y/n out. Y/n rotated to stand alongside Sam at the goal.

“That’s not fair,” Ellie argued, “There’s two of you.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you can’t do it,” Y/n teased.

Ellie’s determination set in, jumping slightly in place before kicking the ball in between Sam and Y/n’s legs quicker than they could stop it.

“Oh, shit,” she exclaimed, shooting her hands into the air.

Sam and Y/n shared a laugh before Y/n got down on her knees, “Can you teach me something?”

Sam watched her lips and nodded, showing her a sign. To her, it looked like he was pulling something out of his mouth, before bringing his two thumbs up and splitting their directions at his chest.

Y/n mimicked it, “What does this mean?”

“Oh, that’s from Savage Starlight,” Ellie exclaimed, copying the gesture with them, “‘Endure and survive.’”

The three of them continued to sign it over and over. It seemed to make both Ellie and Sam extremely happy, which meant Y/n would do it as many times as they wanted.

Joel and Henry watched from their seats. To say Joel’s heart ached would have been an understatement. His soul was barely holding together, a new piece of it dying off every day. But Y/n and Ellie had somehow kept the last few from withering. It was so subtle, he hadn’t even figured the phenomenon out yet. He was barely self-aware. But seeing Y/n, crouched down on the floor with the kids, still with the innate need to make the world around her better, he came to fully realize his thought from earlier in the day.

She was still his Y/n.

Smiling, laughing, loving, caring, kinder than the world deserved. Underneath all the anger was the woman he had loved with all his heart.

And that fucking terrified him.

As Y/n made her way back to them, Joel pulled himself back to reality, switching gears and channeling his energy into focusing on the kids. Specifically Sam. He was eight years old and in survival mode. No child deserved that. It was making him rethink his stance on the things he’d said earlier.

“If you were collaboratin’ to take care of him,” he said to Henry, “I…I shouldn’t have save what I said. I don’t know your situation. And I’m not sayin’ they should let it go, but all things considered, seems kinda cruel—to send a whole army after you for that.”

Henry waited a few seconds, Ellie’s cheers filling the silence, before speaking. “You know, I wasn’t, uh…exactly telling you the truth before…about me not killing someone.”

Y/n and Joel’s attention turned to him exclusively.

“There was a man,” Henry began, “A great man. You know, he was never afraid…never selfish…and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kinda man you’d follow anywhere.”

Y/n tensed up, forbidding her eyes from flicking to Joel.

“I mean, I wanted to. Well…I would’ve,” Henry gathered strength for the rest of his story, “Yeah, but, uh…Sam, he, uh, he got sick. Leukemia,” he scanned Joel and Y/n’s somber expressions, “Yeah, anyway, um…there was one drug that worked and, whoa, big shock…there wasn’t much left of it, and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some, it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen’s brother.”

Understanding washed over Joel and Y/n. All the firepower, the tanks, the trucks, it all made sense.

“Yeah, so, you still think they should take it easy on me?” Henry asked rhetorically, “Or am I the bad guy?”

Y/n stayed silent, weighing morals against necessity. Joel pulled his lips down, barely shaking his head before Henry cut off what he would have said, “I don’t know what you’re waitin’ on, man. The answer’s easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing.”

“But you did it to keep him alive,” Y/n spoke up, “You’d go to the ends of the earth for him. That’s not evil, that’s family.”

Henry’s eyes cut through the space between Joel and Y/n, “You two get it,” he nodded toward Joel, ”You may not be her father, but you were someone’s. See, I could tell.”

There it was. The big, dreadful, terrible thing that Joel and Y/n had gotten this far without talking about. It was the unspoken wound, the one deep enough to kill yet shallow enough that it didn’t show. It was a constant phantom pain in both their chests and it broke them all over again to have it brought up.

“You too,” Henry smiled at Y/n, nodding to Ellie, “That is, if she’s not yours.”

Y/n didn’t think the blade could slide any deeper into her heart. She had been something to someone once, and it was as much a part of her still as the air she breathed.

“Uh,” Y/n tearily began, clearing her throat quickly, “No, she’s not mine.”

Joel had had more than he could handle just by Henry’s assumption about him. Referring to Y/n as the word he couldn’t bring himself to utter in that context had sent him over the edge. He picked up his gun from the table and practically jumped to his feet, “We’ve waited long enough.”

Y/n stayed still at the table, holding back her tears took so much strength, it was stealing her ability to move. If she allowed herself to cry in front of Joel, she didn’t think she’d ever recover.

Henry didn’t ask questions, he didn’t bring up the very visible sorrow etched across Y/n’s face. Some hurt was palpable without ever being touched on, and it was painfully clear that Joel hadn’t been the only one to lose a child…

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