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sirdindjarin · 2 years ago

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Family and Kin - Joel Miller x Reader (Part Five / END)

Bitten, you wait out the night. Joel refuses to give up, and he may have good reason.

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RATING: Explicit, 18+

TAGS: *Holds up fingers*: TWO Smut Scenes, Words I Feel Funny Using, Age Gap, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Smut, P in V, Fingering, Oral (m!receiving), Happy Ending.

WC: 12.7k

___________________________________________

September 26th, 2003

“Pick one,” your seventeen-year-old voice excitedly tells six-year-old Ellie.

Her eyes bug from her head. The space-themed backpack bounces as she hops on the balls of her feet. The glass pastry counter allows the little girl to visually consume each one of the freshly-made donuts, scones, and strudels before ever choosing one.

“Mmm, that one!” She pokes her small finger at a Boston Creme.

You get the attention of the cashier and politely ask for a chocolate-filled scone along with Ellie’s choice. Catching your eye, you also ask for a can of the new Pepsi Vanilla soda.

“Let’s eat 'em at the park, okay?”

Ellie jumps up and down, beaming, “Okay!”

Seated on a metal bench, you hold both pastries, grinning, as Ellie clambers over and up and inside and around the playground equipment. She shrieks happily as she slides down a firepole.

The depression had been bad this morning. Guilt tugs at your stomach. You had no reason to be depressed. You were young, smart, you had a family who loved you, and all the hopes of entering a STEM field. But today, the empty despair had started to win, so you drove to Ellie’s elementary school and withdrew her from school for the day.

Your parents were unaware of your problem, and admitting that you had ditched your own classes was out of the question. But you needed someone. Ellie was your purest source of joy - it was a no-brainer.

“Mom and dad asked me to come get you,” you had told Ellie in front of the school administrator. It was typical of you to pick her up when the school day was over, and it was only an hour before the normal time; no one questions you. You're not sure why you lied to her.

But now, as you watch her scream with childish joy, you can’t find it in yourself to regret it.

A woman stands on the edge of your peripheral vision. While your subconsciousness notices her, it takes a while longer to register the menacing quality she brings to the scene. The long, brown hair is loose and waves in the wind as the woman in the yellow dress stands perfectly still.

It’s the matter of a moment before the woman is sprinting toward you, snarling. Too shocked to drop the pastries, you stand and face the woman, confusion twisting your features. As she quickly advances, you scream.

“Ellie! Car!”

Thank God, thank the Universe, thank everything that the parking lot was so close. She hears the fearful tone of your voice and retreats, crying herself, to the maroon car you’d bought yourself on your seventeenth birthday.

You aren’t far behind her. Ellie, having climbed in the passenger seat, opens the driver’s side door for you. Hurling yourself into the seat, the pastries fall in Ellie’s lap. You slam your door shut and lock it.

The brunette woman heaves against the car, rocking it in her crazed attempts to get at the humans inside. Ellie screams and so do you. You turn the key and rocket backward, thinking of nothing except escape.

Driving down the street, people launch at other people on the sidewalk, tearing away at their flesh. You force Ellie into the floorboard, refusing to let her see. She cries and angrily yells at you for your parents.

You turn onto your street, and the world forever alters. Two houses are on fire. One is yours. It’s five-thirty. Your parents are always home by five-fifteen. You pray that today is different.

Drawing closer, the flames grow in size; and you see two figures, one male, one female, prostrate on the ground, and a third figure hunches over both of them, seemingly eating from the bodies.

The female figure on the ground raises a hand, begging for help. Through your violent sobs, you recognize your mother's face as she dies from blood loss.

The single figure crouching above the bodies snaps its head to the moving car, and you look directly into the eyes of your father.

______________________________________

Blearily, you blink into wakefulness the next morning to Ellie nibbling on her donut. She’s only eaten a single bite when you take it from her gently.

“W-we need to ration these. Get more food. And then we’ll go somewhere fun. How does that sound? Somewhere like…” you don’t know what to tell the terrified, confused child, being one yourself. She loves parks, maybe you’ll go see the National ones. Whatever you do, you won't be staying in this city.

“One bite a day. No more.”

Inside both of your brains, a weak strain of the virus begins to grow, but dies upon reaching a genetic, hereditary discrepancy passed down from your mother. As you microdose the next few bites over the course of several days, the fungus cycles through recognizing itself and ending its campaign, believing it has already won.

_____________________________________

Everything is brighter, more vivid. Each rock, tree, hill, and wavy grassland sticks out in your memory. Is this the last pine tree? The last rolling hill?

Every conflicted look Joel throws your way, every hard stare Ellie makes at the back of your head - you feel them as though they’re physical blows to your composure.

Driving into the west, the sunset is incredible; hues of every color mix in an ever-darkening, ombre rainbow. Cast in the golden light, a rocky ridge to the south stands above a thick treeline. It’s magnificent.

“Pull over,” Joel’s voice is low.

It’s a beautiful place to make your last moments, and he wants to make sure that whatever happens will be while you’re surrounded by the beauty and love you’d valued above all else.

Silent tears wash down your cheeks as you stop the car and get out. It’s a bright day. Spring is finally here.

Two car doors shut simultaneously behind you, and Ellie runs and snags her arms around your waist, squeezing you painfully.

“I don’t know how long -” you choke, desperately willing yourself to stop crying in front of your sister.

Joel walks, limping, toward the trees, allowing you a goodbye with your sister. Whatever way this plays out, you won’t be doing it in front of her.

“You’re immune,” Ellie asserts over and over. Her words trip over themselves in her haste. “You have to be. Why would I be and not you? That makes no fucking sense; you have to be.”

“Guess we’ll find out,” you lamely try to make light of a situation in which darkness supersedes all.

After several bittersweet minutes, Ellie begs, “Don’t go with him.”

You shake your head, “I have to. It’s already been two hours.”

Ellie squeezes harder, “Stay here.”

It’s then that the tears burst from you. Eight long years have you been this girl’s entire world. Dying this way - after failing to protect her, then failing to protect yourself - feels like a slap in the face to the years of hard choices, ruthlessness, and self-sacrifice.

“I can’t, Ellie. You know I want to.” You hug her tight, pouring every ounce of love you have for her into her small frame. “I love you so much.”

Then you forcibly remove her arms from your waist and stride with determination toward the trees. For what remains of your sanity, you block out Ellie’s angry outburst as she kicks the car, sobbing.

Joel’s solemn form, leaning against a pine, comes into focus as you cross the treeline. He reaches for you, and hesitantly kisses the crown of your head.

It could take anywhere between two and eight hours for the cordyceps to work its way into your brain. It had already been two, and you feel no different. It looks as though you’ll be in for another long night. A night with no dawn.

Joel's steady fingers clasp your wrist. He takes you toward a fire flickering to life and two bedrolls.

“I don't like leaving her alone.”

“I’m gonna check on her every hour,” Joel assures you.

“I don’t know if I can sit here all night... Waiting…” you whisper, sitting down on your sleeping bag.

“’m not letting you end it early,” he states with finality.

You look sharply at him, “You - you’re saying I can’t kill myself? It’s my fucking life, I get to decide.”

“Not if that's your decision. Told you a long time ago I ain't a good man,” he replies to your outraged face. “And if there’s a chance you're like your sister, I won’t be lettin’ you do it. That little girl needs you too much, an’ I know you’re brave enough.”

Too full of raw emotion to reply coherently, you look away, face quivering in anger and terror and sadness.

“You can’t even touch me without flinching in disgust. Why do you get to decide how the last moments of my life go?”

Joel takes a moment, looking away. “I’m tryin’. I’m not losin’ you if I don’t have to.”

Sobs you had choked down come again to the top. Uncontrollably now, you bury your face in your hands. Grief for Ellie, for Joel, and for the life you could’ve had with them weighs on your devastated soul.

Joel feels his heart reach for you. His need to soothe you outweighs his learned response to the virus, and he tugs you onto his bedroll and down with him. Your back fits into the plane of his chest, and his arm keeps you firm against him.

“’s not disgust. Never disgust. Don’t want you thinkin’ that. It’s -” he swallows. “I’m afraid. I think about what I’d do if you turned then, what you’d become, what it’d do to what’s left of me," he admits. “Told you before, I wouldn’t survive again. You hafta make it through the night."

Like a switch, Joel realizes his mind has made a decision. It feels as though a final puzzle piece clicks firmly into place.

She’s going to.

"You're gonna be fine," his words, so confidently spoken, make you shut your eyes in a tumble of emotion. “Makes no sense for Ellie to be immune and you not. D’you remember the day you were shot?”

Sputtering a laugh at the random question, you answer, “Yeah, Joel. I remember being fucking shot.”

“Not that exactly. You ‘member the man? He was bit.”

Twisting your face to look up at Joel, you ask, “You saw it? I didn’t see anything. I looked.”

“After you passed out, I looked him over. Had one on his chest.”

“But he was human, and she hadn’t been a biter for years.”

“Right,” he pulls you closer; at your hip, his hand slides into the waistband of your jeans, tracing the skin just underneath. A shiver runs through you. “There’s others like you.”

‘Like you.’ He really believes it.

“Let me…” he sits up without finishing his sentence. He snatches your bag from beside the bedroll and removes the saline and a bandage.

Rolling flat on your back, you pull your shirt over your head. It was nearly warm enough to be comfortable, but the evening air teases your exposed skin. You don’t want to get your shirt wet with the cleaning solution.

Bless him for the fire, you think as the flame finds a particularly dry log.While the weather was temperate, your bone-deep dread has you shivering.

Joel goes about the task with quiet focus. The wound was neither large nor deep; no bigger than your little finger. He had shot the creature right as it touched you, and Ellie had fired right after.

“It’ll heal well,” he approves, his hands smoothing the sticky bandage.

Tears pool in your eyes at the rampant optimism this cynical man is bombarding you with.

“And if you’re wrong?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he gives you a knowing grin, “When’ve I been wrong?”

You can’t help but snort, “Not a single goddamn time to my very great frustration.”

Joel leans over you, careful to put most of his weight on his left leg. Traces of his soft smile disappear as he lowers his head to kiss you. Automatically, you relax into him, sighing at his touch, until dawning horror has you pushing him away.

“Don’t!” You wail.

Joel lets you push him, but his face clouds with hurt and concern. He says nothing.

Your fingers swipe along your mouth, making sure no saliva has crossed your lips. “You can’t kiss me.”

Joel looks relieved, “’s not how that works.”

“Yeah? How’d you know that?” You demand, shaking.

If I got him sick, too…

“People I used to,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “to work with knew some things. There aren’t a lotta facts, but that was one of ‘em. It carries through blood. Y’didn’t know that?” He asks, confirming something in his mind.

“No, hence my shoving you away.”

“As long as it’s not ‘cause you're comin’ to your senses,” he says as he crawls over top of you, caging you underneath him.

“My senses?” Your eyes close involuntarily when his soft lips press against your jaw. "What're you doing?”

Joel’s perfect face hovers over yours, “You’re sleepin’ with a man old enough to be your father. I figure at some point you’ll see your mistake. An’ for your second question -” Joel captures your lips in a searing kiss reminiscent of the moment before you were bitten.

It’s hard to deny him, but when his hand cups your breast, you try.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, wanting this terribly but petrified to risk it. “You can’t.”

He doesn’t even answer you. Joel persuades you with the constant rhythm of his velvet mouth, hellbent on erasing your worries for as long as he is able. He’s no longer concerned about you turning, only about how long he can last. His deft fingers unbutton your jeans and lazily travel across your abdomen - in no hurry whatsoever. You twitch and gasp at his touch, embarrassed at the sounds he could draw from you so easily.

Your hands push weakly at his chest. At least try to resist him. But he pins them above you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“D’you want to?” His voice is husky, thick as the woods around you. Joel's eyes - perfect recreations of the twinkling, night sky - dance in earnest between yours. The fire flickers gold light across half of his face, highlighting his angular features.

Sighing, you surrender, “Since I fucking met you.”

That earns you an affectionate, quiet laugh; his breath warms your cheeks. “Oh, I knew that.”

Sighing, you grumble, “Ellie made it so obvious.”

Joel shakes his head, “No. You were obvious. Fuckin' starin' holes in me. Always tryna take care of me.” He smirks, and his hand travels around to your ass; he almost laughs at how quickly he hardens.

“Ah. So, you only love me,” you blush at your bold use of the one word he’s never said, “because of what I do for you?”

“No,” Joel murmurs after a long, aching moment, “’s not why.”

His hands slip underneath your bra and tug it over your head, careful to avoid the bandage on your shoulder.

Exhaling sharply at his words, your fingers fumble with his flannel shirt, unbuttoning it but not removing it. Your hands splay across his wide chest as his calloused hands massage your breasts. His lips pull moans from you as if he’s drawing water from a well.

“Remember on the beach whe–”

“Course. Woulda had you right there on the sand.”

You whine, pushing your thighs together, and he chuckles. One hand leaves your chest to push your jeans down to your thighs, and your stomach swoops as though you tipped a chair backward.

“That was when -” you gasp, arching as he roughly palms your heated mound, “- knew I was screwed,” you finish your scattered confession.

“Hmm. Was it now?” He drawls. “Pretty sure it was the moment you saw me. ‘s why you gave me that rabbit. My looks,” his cheek quirks.

“Mm - yeah, your look of hunger,” you reply, laughing.

The firelight allows you to see him frown playfully. You cup his jaw affectionately; slowly, he glides his fingers along the spot you want him most. Your eyebrows shoot up, then pull together; shamelessly, you rock against the hand he’s given you. He raises his chin a fraction, his hooded eyes looking down at you with aroused adoration.

“Think it was when that stupid fuckin’ kid wanted you t’go with him.”

From under the pleasurable haze Joel is creating, you confusedly ask, “What?”

“Never felt so goddamn jealous in my life,” Joel continues. “But then you back me up with Ellie. Follow me into the fuckin’ woods. Hit on me. Fuckin' christ, you looked at me that night like you wanted t-” Joel stops to curl two fingers inside you, eliciting his favorite gasped cry of yours.

Joel’s fingers had been a frequent source of your daydreams, and you were right. Thick and ridged, they make you feel dirty and full. Unwilling to hurt you in any way, Joel waits until you tilt your pelvis in search of more friction before he slowly pumps his ring and middle finger. His thumb rubs just the way you need it.

Joel’s lips brush yours, but he’s far too focused on reading your cues. His mouth hangs just above, parted to catch your whimpering moans. He stiffens into solid rock at the obscenities coming from you. He eagerly soaks in your expressions, your little moans, cataloging each one.

“C’mon, baby,” his raw baritone begs.

He wants this to be about you, but between the adoration in your eyes, the sounds you graciously give him, and the wet clenching around his fingers, Joel struggles to remain altruistic.

After an embarrassingly short time, you fracture underneath him just as he wanted. Tightening your stomach and bearing down on his thick, hardworking fingers, your body goes taut as a wire. Pulsing electric fire races through you.

Joel surges forward, kissing you sloppily. A bulge in his jeans presses against your hip, trying to find some relief, which has your eyes shooting open. He has much more to offer you.

“Joel,” you plead. “All of you.”

Wanting to give you just that, he unbuckles his jeans and begins to shimmy them down. Before his quickly-healing bullet wound, he slows. When he does, you come back to your senses and chide yourself for how selfish it is to make him hang above you on one good leg.

“Lay down,” you order.

His head jerks up, eyebrows pinched in confusion.

“Or, better yet,” you get to your knees and lay one of the sleeping bags against the base of a tree. Pine needles have collected underneath, providing a decent enough angle, you think. “Lay there,” you turn back to him.

“This was s’posed to be about you,” Joel objects, his voice unintentionally seductive.

“Yeah, well, this what I want to do,” you grab his uninjured shoulder and push him down gently onto the sloping, soft ground.

If your stomach flipped earlier, it does a full-on carnival-ride drop at the holy image of Joel, flannel shirt open, hair mussed, and jeans around his lower hips, reclined and illuminated in the orange glow.

“Damn,” you congratulate yourself.

He scoffs again, rolling his eyes. “Jus’ fuckin’ get -” he mumbles as he reaches for you.

Pulling his jeans down the rest of the way, you press a kiss to the firm muscle of his wounded thigh. Your mouth, so innocently close to his heavy erection, forces him to fight a shiver.

About her, about her, about her, he reminds himself.

Climbing on top of him, you smile a little shyly and position yourself. Eager to fit him inside you, but unable to resist the sensation, you tease him along your wetness, aching at the way he hungrily watches you use him.

Joel had never thought that would turn him on so much, but you were excavating him from his cold, early grave so rapidly that he isn't surprised by anything anymore.

He likes you needing him, wanting him, using him. He loves it.

Steadily, you ease down, whimpering at each intruding ridge and vein you feel, until your thighs kiss his hips. Joel groans as his eyes flutter closed. His large hands come to rest on your hips, desperately trying to keep himself grounded.

It’s different; somehow more intimate. Joel seems so vulnerable this way: laid out underneath you, his eyes shining and chest heaving. You move up and down carefully, afraid to hurt or spook him.

Leaning forward, you sweetly press your lips to his, savoring the way his plush lips make room for yours; but his sudden response is far stronger than you anticipate. His hands dig into your skin, thrusting you down on him faster; but his hips roll with yours, rubbing something deep. His pleased, strained groans mingle with your gasps.

Then your hair is a tangled mess in his hands. He holds your face to his, gifting you with panted, needy sounds that collect between your lips.

He gives you back the reins, and you keep the rolling pace he clearly wants.

You twist your fingers into his flannel for leverage and tuck your head into his pulsing neck, wanting to kiss every inch of his golden skin.

But he wants to see your face as you ride him. One hand stays gripped in your hair and he pulls more roughly than he means to, and you whine. He presses his forehead to yours, watching you lose control on him.

“Jus’ like that,” he praises. “Doin’ real good.”

"Oh, shit," you moan; Joel's approval sends a shiver from head to toe, making you squeeze him. He groans in surprise.

“You like that?” He asks, slightly taken aback.

“Guess I do,” you sob a short laugh, too overwhelmed by everything he makes you feel to identify specifics.

Joel takes advantage of the position to feel you. His hands grasp at your ass, your flexing thighs, they skate up your waist until he lands on your breasts. Joel throbs inside you, and his eyes darken as he watches your body bounce on top of him.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he grunts quietly, sounding almost pissed off about it.

His expressive eyes flick up to your face, wanting to see your reaction when he slips his fingers to your swollen center again.

“Mhm,” you encourage, wanting any and all touch he could give you.

Your thighs begin to burn with the unfamiliar movement and oncoming orgasm, and you feel your rhythm stutter for a moment.

Joel is there. His inescapable arms brace around your middle, shifting for a better angle, and he thrusts upward harshly, removing your responsibility. His hot mouth pays blessed attention to your breasts.

One finger replaces his as you work yourself; your entire body feels like static shock as he drives up inside you. Joel feels your arm brush his, and he swallows dryly when sees what you’re doing.

He feels you begin to tremble, and your eyes slam shut.

“No, don’t,” he orders roughly. “Look at me. Yeah, fuck, that’s it. That's so good,” he praises once more. "Look so goddamn pretty.”

And as you cry out, as you writhe, as you come hard around his cock, his loose mouth continues.

With each thrust, he confesses all three words you wanted most to hear. Over and over, Joel frees himself in you, gasping and reverent.

Your euphoric orgasm is curtailed by his confession, by the shock of those words. Your hands cradle his face as his body relaxes underneath you. Joel’s relieved eyes meet your surprised stare. His brow wrinkles as he tries to read your mind.

Unable to, Joel tugs you down onto his chest, both of you still breathing heavily.

“You do?” You have to ask.

His hand traces slow, soothing lines up and down your spine.

Joel’s deep, scratchy lilt answers simply, “Yeah. I do.”

Crickets and frogs sing in the warm night air, heralding spring. Joel's heart thumps below your ear. He hums some long-forgotten, old country song you'd heard a lifetime ago.

If it all ends here tonight, you’ll go to the reaper smiling.

__________________________________

A brightness glows inside your eyelids, bringing you to consciousness. The anticipation of knowing what you are now forces you to bolt upright.

You touch your face, your arms, you squint at the trees. Nothing suspicious, but you’d never been a clicker before. Maybe those poor souls kept their consciousness as their bodies turned into monsters.

Your heart thunders in your chest with fear. You tended to be a lucky person, but a clicker bite was the end for everyone.

Well.

Almost everyone.

"Mornin'," a Texan, familiar voice greets you. A voice that never failed to bring light to your soul.

The crackle of a fire and the smell of cooking meat wafts into your senses. When you stand, your back twinges. You take a deep breath, incrementally coming to the realization that you might’ve just escaped death.

"This ground is not fucking comfortable."

Joel scoffs, "Come eat."

"Ellie?" You ask, knowing already that he would've kept his promise to you.

"Yeah. Just got back. She's happy as a pig in shit."

You snort at the expression, "Why?"

He hands you a tender strip of rabbit, which you obediently pop into your mouth.

"Well," he pauses to chew his own breakfast. "Call me a fuckin' optimist, but you don't look like a clicker."

You raise your eyebrows in agreement. You feel… fine. Much better than fine, considering last night.

"Complainin' about the poor ground doesn't seem much like clicker behavior, either," Joel speaks through chewing and you cringe with amusement.

"Anyone tell you not to talk with your mouth full, Miller?"

"You liked it before," one eyebrow quirks up at you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

His words trigger a physical memory of his mouth on your skin.

"God, stop," you beg.

You had things to do today now that you were going to live, and those things don't include Joel.

He laughs, so buoyant he feels like he might float away with a breeze.

"It's been -"

"Fourteen hours," Joel finishes your sentence.

Blinking, your eyeline rises to the tree-framed sky in thought.

Immune.

"One less thing to worry about," you awkwardly chuckle.

How many people were immune and didn't know it? Fucking shitty that the only way to find out would get them killed.

Joel's knees pop as he stands and brushes off his jeans. He saunters to you, placing his hands on either side of your face.

"Told ya."

"Y'know, this is the first time I'm glad you were right."

Joel's arms tug you into his chest. Happily, you inhale the smoky smell of him, and you feel his chin rest on the crown of your head, hair catching in his beard.

"Told you, baby."

___________________________________

Lack of oxygen has your temples throbbing. You wiggle your hands underneath the arms squeezing your ribs, loosening their grip.

"Ellie, I can't breathe." You bend to hug her back, anyway.

"Careful, kid. She's alive, don't change that," Joel comments.

"That was fucking bullshit. Don't ever leave me again. I don't care -" she cuts off your protest, "I really don't. You always tell me it's for my own safety and shit but I don't fucking care. I had to spend the whole night wondering if you were okay."

"Ellie," Joel warns, protecting you from the guilt that threatens to swallow you. "I told you what was goin' on every fuckin' hour." His hands rest on his hips, and you could smile at how fatherly he looks.

Ellie's anger abates a bit. She would never tell you, but the first time Joel had come to check on her, she had run to him. He had collected her in his arms like she was running home. He had combed his fingers through her hair, promising her it was all going to be okay. The steadfast reassurance of a man so hardened had stirred hope inside her, just like it had you.

"There are some things you don't need to see. I know you hate it," you brush her cheek with your thumb, "But try to be a kid. Let us take the heavy shit."

"Right, like I haven't had my share of heavy shit?"

"I didn't say that. I said to let us take it when we can."

"You ain't ever been left out, kid." Joel intuits some of her concerns. "No one doubts you, either. I saw you break that guy's nose in Lincoln."

You flinch at the memory of your sister being dragged off, kicking and screaming.

"Alright. Enough, let's just get going."

"I've been thinking," Ellie starts.

"Great," Joel huffs dramatically, a smirk hiding behind his expression.

"Don’t be jealous my brain works, Joel," she retorts, scrunching her nose at him. "There's two of us. What do we do? I mean, someone’s gonna wanna know that,” Ellie questions, looking between you and Joel.

Joel's gut sours. He doesn't want to tell a single fucking soul. You and Ellie are all that matter, and you’re both safe.

"I really don't know, El. If there's no one capable of doing anything about it, it's kind of a moot point."

Happy at that idea, Joel plucks the car keys from your hand.

"Think I feel like drivin' today."

"It's not gonna bother you? Your leg?"

"Can barely feel it," he blusters. His newfound lightheartedness wouldn't be defeated by something as lame as a bullet wound.

Counting backward, you roll your eyes at Joel's back. He'd been shot only a week ago, but far be it from you to rain on Joel's sunshine.

________________________________

"But it's gotta be genetic, right?" You rhetorically ask.

"Dunno. We also eat the same things and live in the same environment. Maybe we inhaled a lot of radiation and we mutated," Ellie's voice rises.

"Radiation don't work like that, darlin'."

"How’s it work then?"

Eyes darting to you for help, Joel clears his throat and makes up his best bullshit, "Jus’ bein’ around it will kill ya. It rots your… cells. Makes 'em decay."

You purse your bottom lip and give him two thumbs up in sarcastic approval. Joel shrugs, conceding it.

"My guess is that we ate something that gave us immunity. We both had donuts that day."

Joel slams on the brakes, his right arm shooting out to brace you. Your neck whips forward, and Ellie, having slipped her seat belt off earlier, hugs the back of your seat.

The car crunches, and the three of you lurch forward. Tense silence replaces the cheerful conversation.

An elk lies broken and unmoving in the road. It had tried to jump across the rural, two-lane highway, and while Joel had spotted it, he hadn't been quite fast enough.

Joel shoves open his door and goes to the aid of the great beast, but it no longer needs help. His attention goes to the vehicle’s damage, and he sucks his teeth.

The car is totaled. The front end is completely smashed; a malfunctioning squeaking sound mocks Joel.

"A'right, come on." Joel motions at the two of you.

"We'll have to decide what to leave behind. Can't take everything," you frown, stepping out of the car.

Joel nods, walking to the trunk.

"Joel," you ask gently, "are you able to walk the rest of the way?"

"Gonna have to, aren't I?" He side-eyes you, then goads, "Unless you're wantin' to take the advice I been givin' you for a while."

Arranging your face into an unamused mask, you don't give him the satisfaction of a reply.

"Be fun. A nice, long, dangerous hike in the woods," he rubs your lower back with one hand. He pretends not to notice when his hand drifts lower.

"Stop getting your rocks off in front of me. It's so gross," Ellie fakes a gag, rounding the trunk to grab her stuff.

"Gonna have to get used to it, kid," Joel shrugs.

You hide your smile. Used to it. Used to him and me. Used to us.

Ellie throws her head back and bemoans, "Auugh. Go back to wanting to kill each other. I've changed my mind."

She leaves, ducking into the backseat to continue gathering her things.

You chew on your lip, fighting a laugh. Wrinkles next to Joel's eyes prominently feature as he grins close-mouthed.

Ellie whirls around the trunk again, “You know she told me you were just a ‘new toy’?”

“Ellie!” You stare at her, open-mouthed.

“He would find out eventually!”

“How would he have found that out?” You yell.

“A new toy?” Looking between the two girls in front of him, Joel’s hands find their home on his hips.

Ellie laughs, “I mean, when you’re not being a huge asshole, yeah, you’re fun, I guess.”

“It wasn't meant as an insult, I was trying to explain -” you waiver, not wanting to flay open your heart right there over a months-old, throwaway comment. You turn to Joel, “I was trying to explain to her why I was… so interested in you so quickly. It was a -”

Ellie laughs loudly at the look on Joel’s face.

“God, Ellie, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah, okay. Did I ruin the mood? Great.” She returns to the backseat, dragging items out.

"Don’t go thinkin’ I won’t get you back, Ellie,” Joel calls.

A middle finger shoots out of the open car door.

“Maybe we should hide her pun book,” he begins plotting under his breath.

So different from who he was in the winter. Is this who he was before it all? The thought warms your chest and tightens your throat.

"It sounds so bad when she says it -" you start to apologize when he shakes his head.

“’s probably the funniest thing I’ve ever been called.” He bends into the trunk.

“I was trying to get her to believe my crush was superficial and short-lived. I didn’t want her to think I was so… easy.”

“Easy?” Joel almost whacks his head on the trunk lid when he jerks upright. “Ain’t never once thought you were easy. More like a pain in my ass.”

“Not that kind of easy. You said yourself that I was throwing myself at you!”

“An' didja hear me complaining?”

“Yes, actually, I do believe you complained.”

Joel gives you a dirty look, “Think it’s pretty obvious why I might’ve resisted.”

You lean closer to him, slipping your fingers into the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. His skin is soft; little curls of chest hair brush your fingertips.

“Because you were scared of me,” you murmur. “I’m very intimidating.”

The affection coloring your face, shimmering in your eyes, has yet to stop surprising Joel.

Still got no idea why it’s there.

It still makes his nerves quake. Still makes him feel like he's being taken apart and put on display. But it's no longer something he’ll run from.

Joel's eyebrows pinch together, he closes the distance, and fits your lips between his.

Sighing as Joel leaves, a soft smile curves your mouth. Hopelessly smitten with him, you don't look away as he cranes his neck around the trunk, then chuckles.

"She ain’t waiting for us. Already started walkin'," he laughs.

_________________________________

The electric blue lake is a near-perfect oval. Craggy mountains frame it on two sides, and the forest covers all but the water. From the raised path the three of you stand on, the view is incredible. The air is so clean up here. Thinner than you’d ever experienced, though, and that made the hike even more strenuous.

It had been slow going with Joel’s injuries. He hadn’t made a single comment, but both you and Ellie had kept slower paces to stay by his side.

“God, it’s so fucking gorgeous,” you exhale. “Look at it, El.”

“Yeah,” she says noncommittally. When you turn sharply to look at her, she makes a greater effort, “It is nice.”

Your eyes narrow as though you’re trying to read her mind. She steps to the edge of the trail, quiet. Turning to see Joel’s assessment, he shrugs and presses his lips in concern.

“Ellie, you’ll be comin’ hunting with me later,” he says casually, slipping his rifle off his shoulder.

That gets her attention, “Really?”

Damn, he is so good at that.

“Yeah, y'need to learn.”

“Cool,” she bobs her head, then returns to staring over the vista.

“Let’s go up ahead, see if there’s a better overlook. Come on,” you tap Ellie’s arm, striding quickly.

Obediently, she follows you. The forest to your right is so dense that you can only see a few feet at a time, and the vertigo-inducing natural wonder to your left makes you feel slightly uneasy. It was truly beautiful, but inherently dangerous.

Around a curve in the landscape, Joel disappears from view. Awkward silence stretches as you try to think of what to say. She stops to pluck a dandelion, then continues beside you, picking the petals off.

“Isn’t there something special about these?” She asks absentmindedly.

Raising your eyebrows in sudden memory, you laugh once. “Wow. Yeah, I had forgotten. Yeah, when I was a kid, they said that if you held it up to your chin - like this - and it reflected yellow onto your skin, then you like butter.”

“You… like butter? What the fuck.” She snorts, her eyebrows drawn in amusement.

“Children are weird,” you laugh. “I never even questioned it.”

Ellie doesn’t say anything further, so you begin bluntly.

“Are you okay?” You don’t look at her as you two walk, knowing she felt easier about speaking her feelings when prying eyes were averted.

“Mhm,” she responds.

Okay, guess I’ll take a slightly more subtle route.

“I picked you up from school because I missed you,” you find yourself admitting.

Ellie stops in her tracks, “What?”

“I think I told you that day that mom and dad had asked me to get you early, but that wasn’t true. I was sad and you always made me feel better. I came and got you because you’re the brightest, happiest person I know and the most important thing in my life.”

Ellie’s eyes turn glassy, and she looks at you, nodding.

“You’ve been through hell. Talk to me when you want to. Shit, talk to Joel.”

Ellie makes a pfft sound, faintly smiling, “I can’t tell him anything; he’ll tell you the very next breath he breathes.” But she remembers that that’s not quite true. He’d only ever broken his promise about her bite - nothing else.

“He cares about you, Ellie. So much,” you insist. “And I don’t even need to say it, but obviously, I do, too.”

She nods again, looking away. It was clear that she wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering her, but as long as she knew that you and Joel were ready to listen, you could be satisfied for now.

“Shh!” Ellie freezes, grabbing your wrist. “You hear that?”

Rhythmic thumping echoes in the trees, and before long, the ground seems to vibrate. You pull Ellie behind a tree, but it’s far too small.

Thundering around a bend, three horses and their riders come galloping. Terror runs like cold water down your spine, and you straighten, hoping to make yourself and Ellie as small as possible.

It doesn’t work.

“There's two right there. Hey! Come out,” a man’s voice orders.

“Go!” You shove Ellie, sprinting in the direction you came.

Ever the smart one, Ellie cuts further into the tree line, weaving amongst the trees, hoping to lose the large horses in the undergrowth.

You can’t remember how far you walked, but Joel can’t be more than a hundred yards when the first horse gains enough distance to allow its rider to hit you with the butt of their rifle.

Sprawling, you scream for Ellie to keep going, and you roll onto your back, wanting to face your death. The horseman jumps down, pointing the barrel at you, but advancing no further.

From far too close, you hear Ellie yell. Snapping your head up, you see your sister bearhugged from behind by a woman. As your sister is dragged back, you make eye contact with her, reassuring her as best you can.

The third horseman, still on his mount, trots alongside you. His shiny black curls bounce with the movement of the animal.

He says, “We’re going to place bags over your heads. Don’t fight, we won't hurt you.”

Twigs and leaves crunch as Joel Miller appears through the trees. His rifle is pointed at the woman holding Ellie.

“Let go of ‘em,” he demands angrily. The canyon between his eyes is deep.

“Joel?” The black-haired man slides off his horse and walks slowly, yet confidently toward Joel.

Fully expecting Joel to shoot the man, you’re blindsided when Joel’s face relaxes, “Tommy? Holy shit.”

As the two men embrace, you start to feel resentful. “Can I fucking stand up?”

Joel lets go of his brother, his face returning to seriousness. Closer to you than Ellie, he moves to you first, hauling you to your feet.

“You know them, Joel?” Tommy questions.

“They’re with me,” he starts toward the woman holding Ellie.

“Back up,” the woman yells, but Tommy speaks first.

“Loretta, let go of the girl. They’re no danger to us.”

Ellie wrenches herself from the woman’s loosening grip, and stumbles to Joel, glaring.

“Fucking assholes,” she spits.

Tommy holds up his hands apologetically, “We have to be strict when we patrol this area.”

“Doin’ a great job runnin’ down women and little girls.”

“Joel,” Tommy starts, then decides it isn’t worth it. Something registers about Joel’s demeanor that Tommy can’t quite believe yet. He changes track, “I’m sorry we got off on the worst foot imaginable; let’s go back to town and talk.”

Tommy gets back on his horse, offering a hand to you or Ellie. Neither of you take it.

"There's three of you and three horses. It'll go a lot faster if you ride with us."

"Thanks. I'll walk." You give the man a tight smile, wanting to be polite for Joel's sake but still seriously pissed off.

"We'll follow you," Joel suggests. "Or you can walk with us," he adds to Tommy.

"We don't leave people on patrol," the other man in the group pipes up for the first time. "Not even for wayward family members."

Joel faces the man, broadening his shoulders. He doesn't get a chance to escalate before Tommy speaks.

"Hey, it's fine. You two go on ahead a ways; I'll follow with them."

"Maria won't like that."

"Maria will understand."

__________________________________

“So, how the hell’d you find me all the way out here?” Tommy begins, smiling and clasping the reins as he walks beside his horse.

“Found your note,” Joel claps his brother’s shoulder. “Wildest thing.”

Tommy walks beside his older sibling, shaking his head, “Didn’t think you’d actually see that shit. And I wrote it so fucking long ago. Probably two years ago,” his voice ticks upward like a question at the end.

“I wouldn’t have found it without them,” Joel tilts his head as you and Ellie silently walk behind the two men. He tells Tommy how he met you - the second time. He makes no mention of the first.

“Shit, wow. I remember that. There was this massive group of farmers that had come togethe-”

“Yeah, we met most of them. Great group of people,” you sarcastically cut in.

“Ah,” Tommy frowns, “Well, I gave someone that map hoping to trade with ‘em at some point.”

“Yeah, tha’s what I reckoned,” Joel replies.

Tommy half-turns back toward you and your sister, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your names yet.”

You answer him with both of your names. Ellie gives him the same forced smile you did.

“An’ what made you wanna hitch your wagon to my brother’s?” He laughs. “Joel ain't the type to pick up strays.” Tommy says this with familiarity, meaning no harm.

But you don’t see it that way.

“Joel is a good man. He literally took a bullet for my sister,” you wave at his leg.

“Been meanin’ to ask, how’d that happen? Must be painful if you’re limping,” Tommy’s attention instantly shifts to his brother.

“‘s gettin’ better. We,” Joel’s hand indicates you, “rushed a building gettin’ Ellie back from some bastards in Lincoln.”

Tommy has nothing to say to that, and he tries to keep the shock off his face. No, not shock, concern. These two girls don’t know what Joel has lost; why he’s so attached to them. But is that bad? He looks like himself again…

“Joel could use a real doctor,” you put aside your anger, “I patched him up as best as I could, but I’d feel better if he saw someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“‘m fine. The other ones I don’t even feel.”

“Oh, that’s great! Definitely normal,” you huff, exasperated at his stubbornness.

He snorts with amusement, “Really. Promise you, ‘m okay.”

Oh shit. Somethin’ else is goin’ on. Tommy starts to wonder if it’s entirely platonic between the two of you. The look in Joel’s eyes is not the same one he looks at Ellie with, though with no less strength.

“There is a doctor. We’re about an hour’s walk from the front gate, and the doc is right inside. We keep him close for just that reason.”

“Tell us about this place,” you encourage. “Spent a lot of time and blood getting here.”

Without hesitation, Tommy launches into a spiel about Jackson. Everyone works together; everyone shares resources; everyone is generally happy, safe. You get your black sheeps who can’t live without a little chaos, but they sober up in the lock-up and chaos is paused for another week.

“Infected?”

“They were cleared out long ago, and none ever venture up here. Far too remote.”

“Shit, you guys got it made out here,” Ellie mutters.

“Y’all are gonna love it,” Tommy sneaks a glance at his brother.

If any of them don’t, it’ll be Joel.

“Where does everyone sleep?” Ellie inquires.

“There’s plenty of houses. Real nice ones, too. Old and sturdy for the harsh winters. Everyone gets their own place.”

“Shit, you guys really do have it made,” you echo Ellie’s sentiment.

“It’s hard work to keep it. Everyone pitches in,” Tommy warns. “If you stay, we expect you to pull your weight.”

__________________________________

As the massive gates swing wide, the dusty street unfolds before you. Then, on either side, wooden buildings reminiscent of a wild-west town. People go about their business - and that’s the most bizarre part.

People with cloth bags full of groceries, carrying lumber, or just walking down the street leisurely. There’s no oppressive, ominous government, no natural monster waiting to assimilate you. It’s a town out of time.

Ellie doesn’t even know she’s smiling until she sees yours. You bend your head over her, saying, “This is crazy.”

A woman in khaki, canvas pants and a denim shirt rubs her hands on a stained rag before walking up to your group of four. She smiles, and you notice that it’s only slightly warmer than the one you first gave Tommy.

“Loretta told me you’d found him,” she tells Tommy, then turns to Joel. “Welcome. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She offers her outstretched hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Joel shakes it once.

“This is Maria,” Tommy introduces with warmth. He tells Maria your names, adding, “They got him here in one piece.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Maria smiles much more kindly at you and Ellie.

Tommy turns to Joel, “The doctor’s over there. Maria, you want to…?” He tilts his chin at you and Ellie.

“Sure,” she nods her head down the street. “I’m sure you’re probably starvi-”

“God, yes,” Ellie cries. “I don’t want to eat another fucking rabbit ever again.”

Maria laughs, a little shocked. “I hate to break it to you, but rabbit is a frequent flyer here. We probably have something else for now, though. There’s a whole kitchen for everyone and you’re welcome to it. This way.”

The “kitchen” is an old pub, and you’re grateful it looks nothing like the chrome soup kitchen in Lincoln. Your stomach roils thinking about the teenager’s blood and brain matter. Suddenly not hungry, you choke down the stew you’re given out of politeness.

Ellie, however, eats it as though it’ll be taken away from her. Slurping loudly, she attracts the attention of a few other patrons who stare at her.

“What’s up?” She calls. The patrons turn back to their own bowls.

“Ellie,” you whisper. “Just try to fit in for now. We can go wild later when they trust us,” you exhale a laugh.

“Yuh goddit, boss,” she nearly spits soup as she talks.

“Joel did that shit to me a few days ago,” you scowl. “You’re starting to take after him and I’m getting concerned.”

Maria, waiting for your two to finish so she could assign you a house, perks up at your last sentence.

“I’ve heard a lot about Joel,” she begins carefully. “Tommy and him did a lot. To survive, I mean.”

Disliking her tone, you say, “Haven’t we all?”

A grimace crosses Maria’s face. “Not like Joel did.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t you just say that Tommy and Joel did a lot?” Ellie tilts her head like a curious animal.

Maria takes a deep breath and sighs. “I just want to make sure you two girls know what Joel’s like.”

Ellie laughs, and you snort derisively.

“And you do? That’s quite a statement considering we just spent the past several months with him.”

“Tommy has told me everything,” Maria says, and you realize her relationship to Joel’s brother is likely far more than friends.

“Look, I guess you mean well? But Joel saved my ass more than I care to count and he almost died getting -” you stop, not wanting to re-traumatize Ellie. You regroup, “He’s… he’s different than he was.”

That piques Maria’s interest, but Ellie hits your arm. She doesn’t think it’s necessary for this busybody of a woman to know anything about Joel.

But you want to make it clear he’s not a threat. You don’t want him followed or put on a damn watchlist. You’d rather they underestimate him.

“When we met him, he was the Joel Tommy must’ve told you about. But the past few months have really… taken a toll on him.” You leave it to her imagination what you mean, but try to heavily imply that he’s no danger.

He’s not less dangerous. He’s probably more dangerous. Because he has a good reason again. Something to fight for, like I told him all those months ago on the beach.

Maria sits back in her chair, trying to read your face. It’s convincingly innocent, and the dark-haired woman accepts your statement with a nod.

“I guess that Joel probably wouldn’t have let two kids tag along.”

You swallow down the unintended insult. That Joel did, actually; and I’m not a kid; and we weren’t fucking tag-alongs.

“You know he had a daughter?” Maria asks boldly, challenging you.

“What?” Ellie nearly chokes on her soup. “He did?”

Your jaw ticks to the side, clenching your fist. You’re tempted to hit this woman.

Ellie looks to see your reaction, and she gasps, “You fucking knew? You knew about Joel’s daughter and didn’t tell me?”

“Thanks, Maria. I’m glad you feel so comfortable sharing extremely sensitive information.”

“This is for your own good. You need to be aware.”

“Clearly, he had told me,” you give her a cruel, insincere smile.

“Why didn’t I know?” Ellie badgers.

“I’ll tell you later. Promise.” You have to now.

“Alright. Well, if you’re done…?” Maria looks at Ellie, then you. “I’ll show you around, and we’ll end with where you’ll be staying.”

An hour later, Maria stops in front of an old, forest green, Victorian-style house with white trim around the decorative eaves and a front porch that wraps around the right side.

“You’re fucking with us,” Ellie turns to Maria, her hands on her hips.

God, she really is turning into Joel.

Maria smiles and swivels her head once, “Nope. This is on the edge of town, so it’s less desirable to most of the people here. But I figure you and your sister will want a place to retreat to when we all become too overbearing.” She shrugs and her face is open, honest.

You can’t decide if you like this woman or not. Your biggest hang-up is her opinion and dislike of Joel, but, considering her source of information, you let it pass for the meantime. You smile at her with more sincerity than before.

“Thank you. That’s thoughtful. We appreciate it.”

Looking down at your sister, you feel a burn behind your eyes. Ellie has a home.

“Is Joel inside already?” Ellie wonders.

“No. Why would he be?” Maria reacts in confusion. She looks at you like she missed some kind of information.

When you keep your face carefully blank, she fills the awkward silence. “Joel is assigned right over there.” Maria points at a red house across the street and several houses down, similar in style but smaller in size. She squints and blocks the sun with her hand. “I see boots on the front porch. Tommy must’ve moved him in already.”

She turns back to the two of you, “There’s a movie tonight right after sundown. It’s in the center of town. You won’t be able to miss it everyone millin’ about. You’re welcome to come.”

Maria smiles again, and waves goodbye as she heads back to town.

“Dude, we have our own fucking house?” Ellie looks up at you, pure elation spreading over her face. Her face falls slightly, "But why didn't they put Joel with us?"

“Let’s go see it. Last one in loses,” you shout, laughing and racing up the front yard. Ellie yells about unfair advantages as she trails you.

____________________________________

Though the house was huge, and mostly untouched, much of the furniture had been reallocated to other houses. As it was, two bedrooms have beds and dressers and lamps, and the dining room has a massive oak table. It was clear why no one had tried to remove the heavy chunk of wood.

Ellie had chosen a room filled with posters and detritus of a past childhood. It made you sad, but she beamed at it all - interested in an era of humanity of which she had very little memory.

A very short conversation was held about Joel’s daughter. He hadn’t told you much himself, only that she existed and her name was Sarah. You told Ellie that it hadn’t been your place to share the information, which she understood better than anyone. She wondered why Joel hadn’t told her but accepted it when you’d relayed how painful the memory still was for him.

Leaving her to her new room, you wander the rest of the house. In the living room, a moth-eaten couch is the focal point of the circular space. You lie on the comfortable cushions, feeling heavier by the moment. You gaze, unseeing, at the smooth ceiling, fully awed by what you could now call yours.

It feels hollow, though.

Joel has been out of your sight for four hours, and it’s interminable. More than once have you thought about knocking on his door, but the old insecurities keep you back. He had been so open, so different out there, but maybe now that he had real family in here, he would drift away again.

His not coming over seemed to confirm that.

Shadows grow longer through the tall, paned glass windows in the front room. You startle when a light flickers on in the red house Maria had designated as Joel’s. You hadn’t noticed you could see his place from here, but now that the knowledge is present, you can’t tear your eyes away.

That’s it. Joel told you he loved you, nearly died twice for you or Ellie, for god’s sake. Why wouldn’t you be able to visit him?

You fling open the front door and stride down the street. You’re nervous and pissed off about it. Stepping into his yard, you hear a murmur of voices.

As you ascend the front steps, the windows of his living room are perfectly clear. They allow you to see Joel, naked as far as you can tell, with a long-haired woman. The woman faces away from you, but her head and hands move around Joel's midsection.

Shock has you ducking away, and in the extremely short time you were looking, you didn’t see Joel’s face.

You sprint away, feeling nauseous, and head back into the safety of your new home.

Having not experienced jealousy in a decade, you audibly sob when it rears its painful, green head. No wonder he hadn’t come to see you and Ellie. He had been busy.

Did Tommy suggest this? I knew he didn't like me.

No. No fucking way. Even if Tommy didn’t like it, Joel wouldn’t do this to you. You know him better than that - you know him better than anyone.

But the visual evidence is gut wrenching. What the fuck else was that? That asshole was already getting handjobs from other people? What the fuck is happening?

Trying not to panic, you find yourself back at the window. The white front door of Joel’s house opens, and a woman appears. She runs her fingers through her hair and steps off of the porch without a backward glance.

A breath later, Joel opens his door, buttoning his shirt.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss through your tears as Joel makes a bee-line for your front door.

Some part of you, a very strong part of you, doesn’t want to see him. His heavy boots clunk up the wooden stairs, across the porch, and go silent. Three gentle knocks.

You close your eyes and violently rub the tears away, numbing yourself to whatever he’s about to say. You float to the door, unlocking it, and open it slowly.

“Yeah?” You ask in a monotone.

Joel’s face pinches into worry lines, “’s wrong? Y’okay?” His accented words shorten even further with quick concern.

Though you had barely opened the door, Joel doesn’t wait to be invited in. He grabs your shoulders, then your cheeks, visually inspecting you. It’s obvious you’ve been crying.

“Hey, talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” You fake a smile and walk away from him, moving toward the dining room. “There’s a manual coffee grinder in here. Might be able to make some.”

“What the fuck are y’doin’?” He doesn’t beat around the bush.

“Trying to be normal.”

“About what?” Joel follows you, growing impatient.

Stopping at the edge of the table, you take a fortifying breath, “I guess things might change since you’ve got Tommy now.”

“Change?” Joel looks bewildered. “The hell would that change anything?”

“I don’t think he likes… this,” you motion your first finger between the two of you.

Joel’s laugh is acerbic, “An’ you think I’d give ya up because my baby brother don’t approve?” His cheek pulls up in a disbelieving scoff.

“Okay. Well, how about the woman in your house?” You try to say it calmly, but your voice quivers and tears glaze your eyes.

Joel freezes for a moment, and in that moment, your worst fears are confirmed.

“What’d you see, baby?”

“Don’t fucking call me ‘baby’. Are you fucking serious?” You try to leave, but Joel is standing in the doorway. You drop your head in your hands and fall back against the table.

“Did you see her touchin’ me? ‘s that whatcha saw?” Joel moves forward, his face grim. His hands reach for yours.

“What the fuck are you doing - don’t touch me.” You remember at the last moment that Ellie is upstairs, but you nearly shriek your warning anyway.

Joel starts to get angry again. He stops, swallowing hard.

“Listen to me. Look at me.” He waits until you do, so you can see the honesty when he says, “She was the nurse.”

He jerks his shirt up. His wounds are clean and covered in sterile bandages.

“She had to restitch my leg. I opened it runnin’ this mornin’.”

Your heart is racing. “Tommy said the doctor was a man so I didn't think- I couldn’t believe you’d do that to me, but I didn’t know what else to think.” And in a small voice, you say, “I’m sorry. Should’ve trusted you.”

Joel takes a single stride and he’s there.

He holds you to him, “I’d never, ever do that. All I think of is you and the kid upstairs.” His voice gets so low that it breaks at one point.

You curl into him, letting him hold you.

“I get it though,” he chuckles darkly. “Reckon I’d lose my mind at the same sight. ‘m sorry that looked so bad.”

“Felt terrible,” you mumble into his shirt. “Wanted to scream.”

Joel leans, his nose touching yours, and he kisses you gently.

"It's never gonna happen. I've been waitin' all day, thinkin' about you. First chance I got, I came over here."

Looking down at you so earnestly, you give him a small nod. It was so reassuring to know he felt as detached as you did when he was gone. Like something was missing.

You wriggle out of his hold and grab his hand.

“You wanna see my new bed? Help me break it in?” You pull him toward the stairs.

His brown eyes widen and he follows you up the staircase. At the top, he spins you and catches your lips. He backs you up against the wall with a thump, and you break the kiss to laugh, “Ellie doesn’t want to hear this.”

He pauses and says seriously, “My house? Wanna hear you.”

“I can’t wait that long. My room’s at the other end, she won’t hear from there.”

“You can’t wait the ten-second walk down the road?” It’s rhetorical. He can’t, either.

You pull him again along the hallway, but once outside your door, he repeats the move: backing you up against the solid wood and kissing you with abandon.

Joel’s lips are heady, impatient. His hands sculpt your body, and you groan as he ruts against you.

“Jus’ wanna fuck you senseless,” he murmurs.

“Please,” you ask of him, unbuttoning his flannel.

You start to fall backward with the sudden opening of the door, but Joel catches you with the hand he hadn’t used to turn the knob. He drags you forcefully back to him.

He surges into your mouth, and you moan in delight. Joel’s rough hands strip you of your shirt and your jeans, and you shed his shirt. Joel is startled when you drop to your knees on the hardwood floor.

“What’re you doin’?” He pants for breath.

Frantically, your hands scramble to unbuckle his belt, “Wanted to do this since I met you.”

His hand snatches yours, stopping you. You look up at him, and a memory of the first time he fantasized about you looking exactly like this sends his blood pumping.

“You don’t gotta do th-”

You cut him off with a soft, “Please, Joel,” widening your eyes to show your eagerness.

The graying, wavy-haired man grows visibly hard underneath his jeans. “Fuckin’ christ.”

His grip on your hand loosens, and you tug his pants down at this implicit permission. You hum with excitement as his cock bounces free.

“Never told you, but it’s so pretty,” you stroke his length, looking up at him again; Joel digs his fingernails into his palms to prevent ejaculating here and now. A vein in his neck pulses.

It’s so frustratingly poetic. You’re an equal balance of pleasure and torture for him. Something he both does and does not deserve.

His right hand automatically plunges into your hair when you lick a stripe from base to tip.

“Fucking god damn,” he enunciates every word as though he’s in pain, and you want to laugh at the lack of an accent.

You lick him again, and when you reach the tip, you lean forward, taking him in your mouth. Joel tosses his head back, his right hand fisting in your hair, but he’s careful not to pull it. The control you have over him is as exciting and erotic as the location of his cock.

Making up for your lack of experience is your enthusiasm. How frequently you dreamed of him this way: moaning, rigid, and overcome by your touch. This brutal, protective killer who had tortured a man in front of you - for you. Hollowing your cheeks, you gag as he hits the back of your throat. You press harder, swirling your tongue around his base.

Joel groans louder than he has yet, and tilts his head to watch you make a mess of him. He grimaces as your mouth fucks him in a particularly sensational way, and Joel knows he’s not going to last much longer this way.

His eyes roll back as he briefly loses himself in your ministrations, then he musters all the earthly will he has left and pulls your hair backward.

Whining quietly at his removal from your lips, you ask self-consciously, “No good?”

Joel helps you stand, and mutters with black lust, “On the bed.”

You listen. Joel crawls over you, and you plant a kiss to his nearest bicep. His strong, fuzzy legs send shivers up your spine when they brush your calves.

“No good?” His lips part yours, and his tongue dips inside, feeling like a rabid dog at the taste of himself on your tongue. “Had to stop you, or you would’ve been gettin’ just my fingers tonight.”

“Oh, no, whatever would I have done?” You smirk a little at the memory of those fingers.

Joel flips you over, angling your hips upward slightly. Your body is pressed into the mattress, and you wait breathlessly, grabbing the sheets underneath, as he slides himself between your soaking folds.

“Y’ready?” His chest welds against your back.

His cock pushes a moan from your trembling lips as he enters you. Joel curses loudly, dropping his head on your shoulder blade when his hip bones touch your ass.

Joel wraps an arm underneath your waist, and pulls himself out slowly, letting you feel each ridge you'd just had in your mouth. Your moans turn to a sharp gasp when he shoves himself back inside.

"'m sorry," his deep voice mocks, not sorry at all.

You shake your head as if he had meant it, “I want you closer.”

Joel gently kicks your leg out and thrusts into you with long strokes; he skims a spongy part of you, and you cry out. The pulsing of his cock drives you wild. He rubs the pads of his fingers over your clit.

“Fuck, Joel. Fuck.”

His arm holds you still as he picks up the pace, careful to alternate between deep and hard thrusts. But his concentration begins to fail.

Missing how you look when he fucks you, Joel pulls out and rolls you over with urgency.

He ruts against you again, catching your clit, and you whimper as you drag him down for a filthy kiss. His right hand suddenly grips the left side of your face, his thumb forcing your chin up.

“Look,” he pants.

As Joel fits himself inside you, his cheek twitches, his pupils blow out in his already-dark eyes, and his teeth clench. You keen slightly when he sits flush against your skin, and your fingers caress his plush bottom lip. Another hand trails along his hard-lived skin, blessing it for existing. Your worship of him makes him groan gutturally, and he begins to pump his hips. The sounds of wet slapping and mutual gasps and moans fill the sparse room.

He slides his hand down the column of your throat and squeezes the sides. His other hand rubs your clit in the pattern he’s found you love.

“You’re gonna come on me. You’re gonna say my name when you do it,” his voice is pure sin.

“Joel,” you moan, just because you can.

“Jus’ like that. ‘m right here,” he encourages. His soft, gray hair moves in time with his hips.

Joel concentrates, eyes boring into you, as you begin to tighten around and underneath him. He feels it building in you, but he doesn’t let his excitement ruin the pace you’re enjoying. He’s steady, like always.

Your hair spreads on the sheets, your breasts bounce as he rocks into you, and your lips form his name. His fingers hit the right combination, and the hand around your throat moves to your hair, and he tilts his forehead to yours.

“'m right here,” he groans again, and when his lips plant on your forehead, your soul shatters.

Your thighs shake, body wracking with waves of euphoria - and Joel feels it all with vicious pride.

He did that to you.

His release is right behind yours, and he pulls out to come on your stomach with a protracted, growled sound.

He still can’t believe he came inside you the night you were bitten, but you’d had your cycle since then, so that had become a non-issue.

Joel lies down on the bed next to you, wiping his semen off with a cloth he sees on the nightstand.

You curl onto his chest and throw your leg over his wide thigh. Joel settles his shoulder underneath your head, and trails his fingers down your arm.

The room is growing darker. The sun is on the far side of the house now, though there’s still an hour or two before sunset. Joel kisses the top of your head, then leans his cheek against the same place. Peaceful sleep takes you both.

_________________________________

Bang, bang, bang. “The movie starts in like twenty minutes. Let’s go!” Ellie yells.

Your eyes fly open, staring with full frustration at the wall. Joel chuckles behind you, his breath tickling your neck.

“Where are my clothes?” You ask the man curled around you.

“Mmm. I think your jeans are outside.” He fights a laugh at that.

“Thanks,” you playfully elbow his arm. “For the record, I was going to allow you to stay with me tonight. I don’t think I will now.”

"Hilarious.”

You turn to look at him, and your heart fails at the sight. His hair is entirely fucked, standing at all ends, and his big brown eyes indicate happiness even more than his curved, swollen lips do.

You can’t help it - you’re only a woman. You quickly lean across the space, curling your hands in his hair and kissing him again. Then again. Once more for good measure.

“Wha’ was that for?” He asks, semi-dazed.

You don’t answer, standing from the bed and picking up the strewn clothes. You hand him his clothes, but he grabs your wrist as you turn away.

“What was that about?” He looks worried again.

You look at the ceiling to save you, but it won’t.

“I don’t want to lose you.” You tell the ceiling, but it provides no reassurance.

Joel does, though. His biceps flex as he grabs your face, tilting it down to meet his.

“You ain’t ever gettin’ rid of me.”

“What about your brother?”

“He’s got his own family now.” Joel raises an eyebrow, confirming your suspicion about Maria. “An’ so do I.”

___________________________________

You and Ellie walk behind Joel in the fading light, but Ellie begins to speed up, excited and interested.

"Have I ever been to a movie?" Ellie asks you.

You nod, "We all went to see Lilo & Stitch in ‘02. You were so little.” A sad smile touches your lips.

"I don't remember," Ellie frowns.

“It was fun. You wouldn’t sit still,” you laugh, remembering the boisterous, untameable child bouncing around a movie theater seat. “You haven’t changed a whole lot.”

“Sometimes y’really remind me of Sarah,” Joel chuckles, entirely forgetting that he’s never told Ellie about his daughter.

Your mouth drops open in shock, now-grateful that Maria had been so invasive. Joel, somewhat ahead of you, can’t see you or Ellie, so you signal with your eyes to Ellie to be cool.

“Like how?” Ellie asks, genuinely curious.

“Always goin’ somewhere. The sarcasm,” Joel turns his head and pins Ellie with an exasperated grin. “Excited by everything. Course you’re completely different, but sometimes you remind me of ‘er.”

A little, acknowledging smile curves Ellie’s mouth, and she nods at Joel, who turns back around.

You grab Ellie’s hand as the three of you hit the end of the side street and turn onto the main road. Hundreds of people walk by, but it’s clear that many of them have the same destination, so Ellie drops your hand and jogs ahead.

You sidle up to Joel and kiss his clothed shoulder. He tosses a hidden smirk down at you, and holds his arm out.

“Oh, my gentleman cowboy is back?” You tease.

“I’ll drop it,” he threatens, so you laughingly loop your arm through his.

As you head into the crowd, snatches of conversation can be heard. It’s all still so new, so weird, that you try to listen to everyone. Nearing the entrance to the makeshift theater, a high-pitched voice stands out to both you and Joel.

A group stands next to the entrance, chatting before heading inside.

“That’s what I heard, too. Heard they repaired it.”

“Really? That hospital was fucked up the last time I saw it.”

“Shh, don’t curse. There’s kids around, you idiot.”

“Yes. They s’posed to be looking for a cure.”

“FEDRA?” It’s said in disbelief.

The group collectively laughs.

“Good luck to ‘em. They can’t even keep infected out.”

“They’re not gonna do it. I’m not even crossin’ my fingers.”

Joel’s hold on you tightens as you brush past the group. Once inside, you find his eyes: they’re afraid.

Joel slowly shakes his head ‘no.’ You clutch his arm and nod in agreement.

_______________________________________

“Hey!” A man’s voice echoes down the alleyway.

You, Joel, and Ellie are nearly to the street you’ll call home, but turn to greet the man.

It’s Tommy, and behind him, catching up to his jog, is Maria.

“Just wanted to see how your first day was,” Tommy beams at you and Ellie.

“I ate something that wasn’t rabbit,” Ellie snarks as if that’s explanation enough.

“It’s been awesome to see everything. Bizarre,” you add. “Thanks again for the food and the house,” you tell both of them.

“We’ll assign you jobs on Monday,” Maria says.

“Monday. What’s today? You guys keep track of the days?” You ask somewhat incredulously.

“It’s Friday. Movies are every Friday night.”

“A real weekend, huh?” Joel says. “What else’s there to do?”

“There’s a bar,” Tommy raises a conspiratorial eyebrow.

“No shit? It real?”

“‘s real.” Tommy beams again. “We can head over, if you wanna.”

“Naw, I’ll pass tonight. Pretty tired,” Joel declines to your surprise.

Tommy’s too quick. His eyes dart to your face and back before Joel even notices.

“A’right, well, whenever you wanna. Y’all have a good night.”

“Night,” Maria raises her hand once in a wave.

The three of you continue down your street, the sound of frogs and crickets once again filling the night air. The lull of town quiets behind you as Joel’s looming, brick house comes up first.

You slow as you near it, wondering what he was going to do.

“Why you stoppin’?”

“You’re not staying here?” Ellie asks hopefully.

“Why would I do that?” Joel’s accent drawls the sentence out as he pulls you down the road, you laugh.

“To get away from us finally?” Ellie jokes. Her voice deepens into a mock of his, “To drop off the cargo?”

“Ellie, don’t you got a joke book? Those are much better than yours.”

Ellie smacks him with the very book she whips from her backpack.

“You’re asking for this,” she tells him.

_____________________________________________

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