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uselesssomebody · 1 year ago

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𝕀: 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 (when the world went to shit | pre! and post!outbreak joel miller x reader)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

“𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕔 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥” - last words of a shooting star | mitski

words || 𝟚.𝟚𝕜

series masterlist || when the world went to shit

previous || i: the prologue

summary || in which the reader and joel reminicse on times gone by

a/n || first fic of 2024!!

➵ part of a series; check the masterlist ^!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ not proofread

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || really harsh angst

➵ character death

➵ suicide

➵ suicidal ideation

ellie had been quiet the past few days, and joel wasn’t sure he could blame her.

he’d tried to make it better - if that’s any consolation. he’d read that book of puns with her cover to cover about twice, he’d tried to get her to go out and meet other youth in the jackson commune, and even spoke privately with maria to see if the older women could help him liven ellie’s spirits. one night, he’d take her out on one of the horses, citing a perimeter check to tommy as the reason and, though one had been carried out that day itself, his brother seceded, seeing the desperate look on joel’s face and the contemplative one on ellie’s.

she’d liked it, he thinks. they’d sat just a kilometer or two from the commune, such that if they both went really silent and tuned out the bugs and wind, they’d still hear the distant buzz of electricity coming from the beacon that the commune was. the horse ride was quiet, but she’d hugged onto his back, maybe tighter than she’d done before, and her head rested against him, causing him to try and move as little as possible, so as to keep her comfortable. he’d introduced her to the concept of constellations, and she’d cracked a few smiles - maybe even a laugh or two - as her imagination concocted wild shapes over the stars. she’d fallen asleep on the way back, her light breaths sometimes catching and turning into small snores, making joel’s still tough exterior crack just slightly, a smile delicately resting over his features.

carrying her had become practically second nature to him now, easing her into her bed in their small house - one they could call their own. she looked peaceful - happy, and he hoped it would carry onto the next day. settling into his own bed - not far from hers, feeling paranoid should it be - he gazed up at the blank wall above him, deep breaths and a quiet night allowing him to practically feel the oxygen coursing through his body.

a sudden sense of deja vu overtakes him, and it’s so powerful that it physically overwhelms him, making his head spin and his breath catch. it was so strong, it was almost as though he could feel her, hear her next to him, telling him to stay another moment, wrapping her legs over his and her arms around him. his mind has wandered away from ellie, resting instead on… her. the one that got away.

what had she said again? that morning… something about movies? mornin’ lovin’? he couldn’t remember exactly what, but he did remember her - how she made him feel.

it was just before all this. the last time he was really content, before the contentment he found in jackson.

he wondered about her.

she sometimes wondered how she made it so far into the end of the world.

maybe she was more hardy than she made herself out to be - a fast learner, with an adaptive personality.

but really, what she had was support.

when the world went to shit, she had hidden in her bathroom. and - perhaps the only person in the world she believed remembered her - her neighbor, a few doors down, and also her closest work friend. she heard the grating horn of a car, but did it sound sweet when the voice that accompanied it called out for her.

she ran outside, shielding her eyes from the explosions occurring in the distance, and she runs up to the door of the car. inside, bella: the girl who sits in the cubicle across from her, who seemed so sweet, if not a little mouthy when they gossiped about their boss, always-rememebered-everyone’s-birthday bella, sitting in the driver’s seat with a determined, cold look in her eyes, a pistol peeking out of her half-opened glovebox.

“get in.” bella orders, and she immediately complies, sliding into the passenger seat, and nearly screaming when a hand places softly on her shoulder to reassure her. whipping her head back, as bella begins to drive, she sees ryan, their other coworker - who bella was a bit closer with.

“what the fuck is going on?” she whimpers, and ryan swallows harshly.

“fuck if i know? people are going crazy - we have to get somewhere isolated.” bella hums in agreement, eyes trained on the road.

“can you use a gun?” her heart clenches.

“a - what? no - no, i can’t-”

“learn.” bella’s tone is sharp, and it shuts her up.

ryan squeezes her shoulder again.

“bella, calm down. guys, we’ll be okay. we’ll figure it out.��

somehow, they had. the three of them had managed to get out of the city, driving through the farm lands - where few people stayed, and once they were far enough away from the suburbs and the city center, they found an abandoned farm.

that was the first safehouse.

they had gone through… perhaps over a thousand - now, 20 years into all this.

they worked together well - bella had a gun license, and had taught the other two - both now armed with their own guns that they had pulled off different houses. she used to be a scout, and had some lifestyle experience and first-aid knowledge. and ryan was strong and aware - he was the main reason they had escaped approaching infected or - in many cases, worse - people.

it was difficult to be a woman in the apocalypse - and he knew that. he took his job very seriously.

she doesn’t remember exactly when it happened, but bella and ryan got together. of course, maybe she always expected it, but it was a symbol of hope - they were a show of normalcy in a world of horror. bella confided in her a lot - about finding somewhere to possibly begin settling down, setting up defenses… maybe having a self-sustaining farm. it was quaint, it was sweet, it was homely, and best, it was starting to seem realistic.

but that’s when their luck ran out.

waking up to sharp clicks coming up the stairs, stuttered steps clacking against the wooden floor. she jolts awake, immediately cringing at the slight squeak of the bed. luckily, past the only slightly ajar door, the muffled sound is only enough to cause the clicker to pause and curiously angle its body in the direction of the sound.

she looks up in horror at bella and ryan - both also up, and trying their best to be dead silent. bella gets up, with only the smallest creak of the floorboards, as she signals to ryan to grab the bag, and for her to get up. both comply, joining her. they all know there’s no shot of getting out through the front door, and bella points to the window. ryan and her both procure their pistols, aiming at the clicker, and she remembers the way her stomach churned in horror.

as bella opens the window, there’s a loud creak as it opens, and for a quarter of a second, they all glance at each other with blown out, horrified eyes.

immediately, the clicker bursts through the door, snarling and clicking loudly and wildly. ryan shoots at it, causing it to only stagger a little.

“get out!” he shouts, and she complies, forcing bella to come with her - though she knows the other woman desperately wants to stay and help ryan.

but she’s not too worried - he’s handled this stuff before. he’ll get out.

right?

they flee off the roof, jumping down from the short height to the floor, and hiding in the nearby bushes, as they wait for ryan to join them, but then, at the sound of screams…

bella begins to sob.

it’d been a year since.

bella hasn’t been the same.

she’s tried to keep them both alive, keeping a much lower profile, and trying to be more brave when looting and encountering infected and raiders. keeping the both of them afloat was not what she’d signed up for, but she tried her best to step up to the task.

today was ryan’s death. it was as if the day knew it - gloomy, and raining when she woke up that morning. bella was turned away, pouring over her belongings in the corner of the bedroom of the abandoned house they were currently settled in.

she decided not to bother her.

looking around, they were low on… well, everything. luckily enough, the area was a ghost town. perhaps she could go looting - seeing what she could find. she’ll do it herself, she decides, and maybe bring back something to soothe bella’s troubled mind.

“i’m going out, okay?” her voice is soft, and bella doesn’t look up, instead humming dejectedly in response, and she swallows thickly.

she appreciates the fresh air outside. overgrown with plants, each building is lush and green, as she looks around at the landscape.

first, she picks off the houses. decent medical equipment, some ammo, and some food. it was a good haul, and for the first time in a long time, her bag feel heavy.

there’s a bar across the street. sounds promising. swinging the belled door open, she hears it ring behind her as she stalks in. she slowly looks around. it looks… worn. but it’s oddly warm, compared to the other houses.

she glances at the shelves, and there’s a few unopened bottles - one or two stronger liquors. smiling softly, she takes one. she’s not greedy - one is enough for now. for tonight.

walking back to their shelter, she’s careful to walk up the creaky stairs of the house, avoiding the tripwires she’d lined with attached pots to note the presence of her intruder.

“bella!” she calls, “look what i got!” no answer.

“bella?” she continues, “the bar had some goods!” still no answer. reaching the door, she inhales deeply as she prepares to try to help bella feel better.

“bella…” she slowly swings open the door.

bella’s in there. as is a rope hanging from the ceiling. her feet aren’t touching the ground, and her head is lolling to the side, eyes closed - chest… still. she’s not breathing.

she gasps in shock, horrified, before she suddenly shuts the door. she can’t look inside. she can’t breathe. her chest clenches painfully, and she falls to her knees, eyes welling - blurring her vision.

“no… no, no, no, this can’t be happening…”

she whispers it to herself, begging to someone, anyone that what she’d seen hadn’t been real. but it is. no one else is here.

she wants to scream, and wail tears streaming down her cheeks, but she can’t. she knows she can’t. someone will hear her, something will come for her.

her hand touches the bottom of the door, seeing bella’s shadow through the slit between the wood and the floor there.

she can hear her own heartbeat.

she wishes that she wouldn’t.

she was… angry at bella.

was it selfish? perhaps.

but she believed it was equally selfish for bella to do such a thing, and to strand her completely alone in the cruel world, with the knowledge that the only two people in the world who knew that she existed had died.

how do you move on from that? she wondered that for a long time. she wondered if there was a point. but then, she remembered bella’s hopes for her - unfortunately cut short - future with ryan. and that stability - that idea of a home, not the nomadic life she was forced to live - she yearned for it deeply, and it was the only thing that kept her going.

when she came to this conclusion, she opened that door that she’d cried in front of for the first time. she needed her things - she needed to start packing up. and, as she did, she noticed a note by the windowsill.

bella’s handwriting, one she could still recognize from the notes that bella would playfully hand her in passing back before all of this, sharing some new piece of office gossip.

of course, this was a different kind of note.

she walked downstairs, closing the door gently, before closing all the blinds and sitting on the couch. that was her bed for tonight, and tomorrow, she would move on.

she goes to sleep that night, reading through bella’s note to find some closure. it makes her head and eyes swim, but she powers through it. she’s less angry at bella afterwards. she’d cared for her until the very end, and it was only after a year of contemplation and anguish - that bella suffered through to stay with her - could bella no longer do it.

her cheeks, and the dusty cushion of the couch are drenched as she falls asleep, note clutched to her chest.

for the first time in a while, her dreams were vivid.

she dreamt of the world before, her old life, her happy memories of bella, ryan, and her other friends. she remembered her highs and her heartbreaks. at some point, a prominent face made a distinct appearance.

joel miller.