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justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago

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Lavender - Ch. 10

You take Joel and Tommy around the QZ and reconnect while Andrew has misgivings. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-9 found on Tumblr here.

Main pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 9.1K (sorryyyyyyyy)

Warnings: Smut :D YES FRIENDS JOEL IS BACK SO WE GET SMUT Oral sex, female receiving; unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up kids); no use of Y/N. Minors, DNI. 18+ only

“You’re not OK.”

You were staring at the doors where they’d just taken Joel and Tommy. You couldn’t stop watching the doors.

“Hey.”

Andrew’s hand went over your shoulder.

“Yeah?” You said, glancing at him for a moment before looking back at the doors.

“C’mon,” he said. “We should get you out of here, you’re not OK.”

You looked up at him.

“Can I stay with you?” You asked.

“Sure you don’t want to do your place?” He frowned. “I’ll go there…”

“Yours is closer,” you said.

“By a block!”

You shrugged. He sighed.

“Yeah, my place.”

He put his arm around you and tucked you against his side, staying mercifully quiet on the walk to his apartment.

Joel was here. In Boston. He was alive, he’d survived all this time. He was here. Sarah wasn’t.

“Hey Andrew,” his roommate, Steve, was on the couch, playing a GameBoy. He did a double take when he saw you. “Doc! Haven’t seen you in a bit. Thought you guys were doing better on the codependency thing…”

“Not the night for it, dude,” Andrew cut him off.

“No, it’s fine,” you sighed, flopping on an arm chair that you’d help them fix. You’d had to figure out an upholstery needle for that one. “You’re right. I’m just a shit show of a person at the moment.”

“What happened?” He asked, glancing back at you before going back to the GameBoy.

“Joel’s here,” Andrew said, putting a glass of whiskey in your hand and sitting on the floor by the couch.

“Wait what?” Steve turned and stared at you. The GameBoy made a sad sound. “Aw shit, that was my last life…”

“Sorry,” you said, taking a sip of the liquor. It was bad. You didn’t care. You looked in the direction of the clinic.

“The fuck did Joel come from?” Steve asked, sitting up and tossing the GameBoy on their gouged coffee table. “Five years and he just appears out of the ether? It’s THE Joel, right? The one you’ve been looking for since the outbreak started?”

“Yup,” you took another drink.

“And you’ve seen him,” he said. “It’s not like you heard about him showing up in like… Atlanta or some shit, right?”

“Oh he’s here,” Andrew said, sounding none too happy about it. You frowned. “In holding at the clinic as we speak, had to pry him off her to get him to go back…”

“You don’t like him,” you said it more than asked it. Andrew sighed.

“I don’t not like him,” he said. He was choosing his words carefully.

“Then what’s the deal?” You asked. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“I’m happy he’s alive,” he shrugged.

“But?”

“But,” he sighed, looking up at you, clenching his jaw for a moment. “Look, I talk to a lot more smugglers than you do.”

“Yeah, I really wish you wouldn’t do that…” you said but he ignored you.

“I know what people do outside the QZ to get by,” he said. “None of it is good. If he’s made it this long, it’s because he’s done some shit. Bad shit.”

“What are you saying?” You frowned down at him.

“I’m saying,” he said slowly. “That the Joel you knew? Is probably long dead. Unless the Joel you knew was a killer. Because the one who showed up here is.”

“We’re killers, too, Andrew,” you said quietly. “I killed a lot of people to get us here.”

“You killed infected,” he corrected you. “I killed infected. That’s different, they’re dead men walking then. It’s a mercy killing. That’s not the kind of killing I’m talking about.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, shaking your head. “There’s no way…”

“He might have been a fucking raider for all we know,” he said.

“That’s harsh,” Steve said.

“It’s true,” Andrew replied. “Steve, you deal with smugglers all the time.”

“I cannot confirm or deny…” he replied but you cut him off.

“Come on, I work for FEDRA because I have no other options. I’m not a narc,” you rolled your eyes. “I know you buy pot, Steve.”

“Oh,” he said. “Then yeah, all the fucking time.”

“And what do they say about the outside?” Andrew asked. “About the people they trade with?”

“It’s… rough,” he said. “Even the smugglers have to do some shady shit. But that doesn’t mean he’s a raider…”

“He’s not a raider,” you snapped. “He’d never have put Sarah at risk like that…”

“Yeah and he showed up without her,” Andrew said. “Something killed her.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you snapped, jumping to your feet so you towered over him from his spot on the floor. “He’d have never done anything to hurt her, never would have let anything happen to her if he could do anything to stop it, he’d have died for that girl if he could have.”

“Old Joel, sure,” he shrugged, looking you dead in the eye. “You don’t know this Joel, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s been a long five years. For everyone.”

You sat back down, staying on the edge of the chair and chugging the last of the shitty whiskey.

“I just don’t trust him with you,” he said, voice gentle. “You’re fragile…”

“No I’m not,” you snapped. “I’ve survived everything you have.”

“Emotionally fragile,” he replied. “You’re better than me that way.”

You snorted.

“By our powers combined, we’re almost a functioning person,” you joked. He laughed.

“I’m just saying, I’m worried the guy is going to wreck you,” he said. Steve laughed, Andrew smacked him. “Dude. Not like that.”

“Sorry,” he was still laughing. “Sorry, Doc!”

Andrew sighed.

“You know what I mean,” he said. “And I don’t want you suffering because you went in all open hearted to some guy you don’t actually know.”

“It’s Joel,” you said softly. He sighed.

“Yeah, I know it is.”

The three of you stayed up drinking for a bit, your eyes always drifting back toward the clinic, where Joel was.

“Alright, come on,” Andrew said eventually, half pulling you out of the chair. “You need to sleep, I know you’ve been going all day today and tomorrow’s going to be rough.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to sleep,” you said, looking toward the clinic again.

“There’s nothing you can do for him right now,” he said gently. “And I think we can agree that the Joel you used to know would want you to get some sleep, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

You went to his room and got the pajamas out of the half drawer he’d left for you in the dresser.

“You know, if we’re actually aiming to break the codependency habit, we should probably not leave shit at each other’s apartments,” you said, changing with your backs to each other.

“We’re doing better than we were five years ago,” he said.

“A low bar indeed,” you said, getting in bed. He climbed in beside you. “Sorry in advance.”

“Yeah, I know what I’m getting into,” he said. “You do the same for me. Wake me up if you need it.”

He held his arms open and you tucked yourself against his chest.

“Same.”

There were planes falling from the sky again. You could smell burning jet fuel and the inhuman sound of infected was deafening, so loud you couldn’t move. You just fell to your knees, hands over your ears, screaming to drown out the other sounds.

“Help!” Sarah was in front of you, wearing the shorts and tank top she’d been in the last time you’d seen her, July five years earlier. You could see the metal of the barrettes in her hair, reflecting the fire as it burned. You reached for her but she was suddenly too far away, so far out of reach. But her voice somehow carried over the screams of the infected. “Help me!”

“Hey!” Andrew shook you, snapping you back into reality. It took you a moment to figure out where you were. You were hyperventilating. “It’s OK, I’ve got you…”

“Fuck,” your tense body loosened into the mattress. There were tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Just breathe through it, you’re OK.”

You nodded into his chest and did the best you could to obey.

“What time is it?” You asked.

“Just after 4:30,” he said. “You did pretty good, all things considered.”

“Look at me, almost sleeping through the night,” you sniffed. “I’m like an accomplished infant.”

“I’ve been in worse positions with you,” he said. He kissed the top of your head. “This is just what we do.”

You stayed in bed until your heart rate returned to normal and got up, only then realizing that you didn’t have much in the way of clothing options at Andrew’s place and you certainly didn’t keep the things you liked the best there. It was a stupid thing to be worried about, but you wanted Joel to think you looked good. You wanted to feel like you looked good when you were with him.

“Want to go back to your place real quick?” Andrew asked, leaning against his doorway. Like he could read your mind. At this point, he probably could.

“No,” you said, putting on the shirt you had there. “I want to get to the clinic.”

He sighed but went with you.

“You’re going to be real early for work if you show up now,” you teased him, trying to focus on anything even slightly normal.

“I know, it’s a change of habit,” he half smiled at you. “Aren’t you usually making excuses for me?”

“We all just expect it now,” you shrugged. “You’re lucky I’m such an amazing doctor, they want to keep me sane so they’re stuck with you and your shit.”

“Should really abuse that connection as long as possible,” he nodded solemnly. “Pretty much the only reason I keep you around, only a matter of time before you get wise.”

You got to the clinic and he unlocked the front door, no other doctors there yet.

“You can’t get him for an hour,” he said, leaning against the front counter. “They picked them up at 6 p.m., Lee and Elias won’t let you fudge the waiting period…”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “But I wanted to be here.”

You were starting to wonder why you’d ever left the clinic at all. It felt better here, being in closer proximity. You couldn’t see Joel but you knew he wasn’t far, close enough that you could be to him in just a moment if it wasn’t for the walls and guards between you and the holding rooms. You could breathe easier knowing he was close, knowing you were going to touch him again in just a little while. That this was as close to him as you could get and you’d done what you could to be there.

“C’mon,” he jerked his head and led you down to the doors for the holding rooms. You frowned but he just sat beside them and patted the floor next to him. “My lap’s a good pillow. Try to get some more sleep.”

“You’re lap’s a shit pillow, actually,” you snorted but sat down beside him, anyway. “You’ve put on too much muscle, you need some pudge. You’re too hard.”

Your head went into his lap anyway. He ran his fingers through your hair.

“Bake for me more and we’ll see what happens on the pudge front,” he replied.

You did manage to drift off for a few minutes, Andrew’s easy breathing and his hand in your hair making you feel secure enough to sleep again. But yelling from the other side of the door woke you up.

You shot up with a jolt.

“No,” you breathed, jumping to your feet and yanking on the doors. You knew they would be locked, you couldn’t get into the holding area without a security escort. You kept pulling anyway before you started beating on them. “Let me back! Let me back!”

Andrew pulled you back and you fought to rip yourself away from him.

“If he turned, you don’t want to see that,” he said, his arms caging you in. “If he’s turned, there’s nothing you can do…”

“He’s not dying alone!” You sobbed, straining and reaching for the doors. “I don’t care if he’s turned he’s not dying alone!”

The doors opened, a guard looking you over.

“Friends of yours in there, Doc?” He asked. You nodded. “They’re pretty demanding, wanting to see you.”

“So they didn’t turn?” You asked, going still.

“Just as healthy as they were when they went in,” he replied. You went limp in Andrew’s arms, relieved. The guard sighed. “They’ve only got half an hour left, want to come sit with them? On this side of the bars, can’t let you back further.”

You couldn’t seem to find your voice so you just nodded as fast as you could. Andrew released you and you all but ran into the holding area.

It wasn’t a place you knew all that well, always escorted on the occasions you needed to come back and euthanize someone who came in infected but still lucid. You hated this place, hated being in there, hated that it seemed to reek of death even though you knew it was clean and sanitized.

Joel was… loud. His voice carried and you were able to follow it easily, running full tilt until you found where he was. They were in separate cells and there was another set of bars separating the passage between the cells and where you were. Tommy noticed you first.

“I don’t give a shit,” Joel was yelling.”I need to see her, I need to see her right now…”

“Hey Kid,” he smiled sheepishly from the holding cell across from his brother.

You gave him a quick smile as Joel realized you were there. His eyes ranged over you, like he was reassuring himself that you were alive.

“Hey, Tommy,” you said. You weren’t looking at him. “Hey, Joel.”

“He make enough noise that they went and woke you up?” Tommy asked. You still didn’t look at him but you shook your head.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied. “Figured I’d just come here. I was going to just sit in the clinic but…”

“Everything OK?” Andrew asked. It was almost reassuring that he hadn’t felt the need to run with you. Almost.

“Yup,” you nodded once.

“My brother was just causing a scene,” Tommy said, giving him a wave. “I’m Tommy, by the way. That’s Joel. Seems like you’re a… friend of the Kid’s.”

“The Kid’s?” You could hear Andrew’s frown.

“What they called me back in the day,” you glanced back toward him. You were right, he was frowning. You looked back toward Joel and smiled a little. “Ten years ago now.” You realized that you hadn’t introduced anyone to someone else in… well, years. “Sorry, this is Andrew.”

When he didn’t say anything you looked back at him, giving him a look. He sighed and raised a hand.

“Hi,” he said, tone flat. You rolled your eyes and looked back to Joel. He was pretty much the only place you wanted to look.

“There’s a lot you have to do when coming into the QZ,” you said after a moment of awkward silence. “I’m going to take you guys through it today, get you housing, into the system to find work, that sort of thing…”

“Gonna be weird to be in a system again,” Tommy joked. You glanced at him. He was watching Joel, closely. Trying to get him to engage. “Course starting out behind bars oughta kick start that process for me.”

“God, I bet,” you said, talking more to Tommy but glancing at Joel. “Should be old hat for you now. I pretty much went from one system to another but hey nothing was as bad as when I was trying to get into that one 400-level bio class my senior year. Remember that, Joel? I had to be on campus at 6 a.m. on registration day so I could get one of the slots? I made you take me so I wouldn’t have to park…”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I volunteered. Got to spend the morning with you, worth losing a little sleep.”

You smiled. Andrew was wrong. Your Joel was still in there. He always would be.

***

Joel hadn’t slept for shit. The dreams woke him up early. He’d dreamed of you dying before - more times than he cared to count, more times than he cared to think of. It had been a foregone conclusion then. He had the idea that he would have felt it when you died, sensed it somehow. He’d just… know. And he’d felt that way. The day after the outbreak, he’d felt it.

He stopped looking for you then. Couldn’t handle it, having it confirmed on the off chance he ever found something leading to you. Not that there was any kind of record keeping in the apocalypse but he lived in fear of one day finding out that you’d been infected, that someone had hurt you before they killed you.

But the lack of knowing left room for his mind to concoct the worst outcomes. You, torn to pieces by infected. You, shot and left to bleed out after your supplies were stolen. You, taken as a commodity by the kinds of men who grabbed power when things went to shit, killed when you were no longer useful. His unconscious mind had filled in every blank except one: you, alive.

Now that he knew you were, the dreams were a different form of hell. They weren’t images of what had happened, things he couldn’t change no matter how much he wanted to. Instead they were fates that could befall you, things he desperately needed to protect you from. When the dreams woke him up this time, he couldn’t handle it. He had to see you. Confirm that you were alive, whole. And they were keeping him from you.

He tried to keep it down for Tommy. He tried to ask nicely. It got him nowhere. It felt like he was going to lose his mind if he couldn’t just see you, just for a second, just to confirm that you were OK. The relief when saw you was acute, sharp. Like someone had healed a gaping knife wound in his chest. It took him a moment to even hear what you were saying.

You kept looking at him, like you needed to see him, too. Only ever pulling your eyes away to glance at Tommy or sometimes the man who’d come in with you. Joel knew he’d heard his name but he hadn’t remembered it. He was just thankful he seemed to be keeping his fucking hands to himself.

“Alright, step back guys,” the guard snapped Joel out of his own head, stepping forward with keys. He immediately obeyed. He started with Tommy first - probably punishment for Joel’s yelling overnight - and then moved to Joel. You were there, just one more set of bars between you. It seemed like unlocking that last fucking door took hours when he knew it had only been a moment and then he was holding you again.

You somehow still smelled like lavender. It didn’t make sense, how the fuck did you smell like flowers in the apocalypse? Maybe he hadn’t found you. Maybe he’d finally lost his mind and he was hallucinating in a ditch somewhere. He didn’t fucking care. You were soft and warm and smelled like you and your arms were so tight around him he couldn’t take a full breath and he didn’t care about that either.

“Can we get the fuck out of here?” Your… whatever he was said. “I hate it back here.”

You nodded against Joel’s chest before you realized that you’d probably have to speak to answer him.

“Yeah,” you said. Your voice was muffled by his shirt. “Let’s go.”

You hand slipped into his as you separated from him, as though touching him was the most natural thing in the world, and you followed your friend out of the clinic.

It was still dark outside, the city quiet.

“Welcome to the Boston QZ,” you smiled a little, looking up at Joel. “Your luxury accommodations for the end of the world.”

Tommy laughed. Joel smiled. You’d kept your sense of humor.

“Truly the finest,” your friend was walking backwards so he could look at you. Joel narrowed his eyes at him. “Ration cards, FEDRA housing, a black market that occasionally has AC/DC albums. We have it all.”

“You hid my Beatles CD at the clinic, I know you did,” you said, tone accusing but light.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to look innocent. “I do know that the next time you’re going into surgery and you just absolutely need ‘Hey Jude’ to get through it, it will magically appear.”

“You’re the worst person,” you smiled as you said it. “Just a kick in the balls personified.”

“How would you even know!”

“It was a very important part of my training,” you said seriously. “Studied ball kicking very intensely…”

“You’re ridiculous.”

You stopped at a side street and your friend frowned.

“I know you’re tired,” you said.

“So.”

“Don’t need an escort, Andrew.”

Andrew. Joel tried to remember it this time.

He glanced quickly at Joel then looked back to you.

“You know why…”

“And I’m saying I know that’s not a concern,” you cut him off. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you do,” he replied. “Maybe I know better than you here.”

“Andrew.”

He sighed.

“I’m checking on you later,” he said, pulling you into a hug and kissing your temple. Your hand stayed in Joel’s. He lowered his voice but Joel could still hear him. “Remember what I said. He’s not…”

“I’ll be fine,” you looked up at him. He quickly glanced to Joel, kissed your temple again, and left. You watched him go for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” you said brightly. “Andrew’s paranoid. Course I’m paranoid with him too so I guess it’s only fair… anyway, stop one on our tour is going to be my apartment. We can grab something to eat and I can get a few things to make getting you set up easier.”

You led them another block to a building that had probably once been luxury apartments but those days were long passed. Your place was on the third floor and Joel liked that there were two deadbolts on your door.

“Sorry, it’s pretty small…” you opened the door for them and turned on the lights. It was small, even by city standards. All one room, your bed against one wall with a small couch at the foot of it. A two seat table just off the kitchen that only had one stretch of counter. What little extra space there was was filled with shelves covered in books and CDs. “I never have more than one person over at a time but you guys take the table, I’ll see what I have here. Unfortunately Whataburger died with the rest of civilization and it never made it this far north to begin with so we’ll just have to make do with what I’ve got.”

You opened a tin - one you’d painted because of course you had - and put it on the table. Tommy all but dove into it, grabbing an oatmeal cookie and taking a bite, moaning as he did.

“Fuck, Kid, you still make a mean cookie,” he said, sitting back in his chair. You smiled.

“You just haven’t had cookies in a while,” you said. “Imagine if you could just get a fucking Oreo now?”

“Yours are still better,” he shrugged. Joel took one, too, looking at it for a second. He hadn’t had anything like this in so long - and nothing of yours in even longer. He took a bite, absorbing it for a moment. Tommy was right. You still made fucking delicious cookies. He watched as you rifled through your tiny kitchen, pulling things out, frowning, considering them, setting them on the counter. You were still… you. He didn’t understand it. How were you still you? After everything that had happened to the world, you’d remained intact.

“So first lesson in QZ foodstuffs,” you said, setting a few things out on the table. “Lots of shit that’s been preserved. Jerky is, unfortunately, your most reliable source of protein. We get the fresh stuff from time to time but it’s pricy. Andrew’s roommate Steve gets it the most but he usually asks me to cook it because they were teenage boys during the outbreak and couldn’t cook a steak if their lives depended on it…” You shook your head and smiled a little and then blushed. “Sorry, I’m rambling, I just haven’t talked to… Anyway! Dried fruit, I’ve still got some bread left from what I made the other day and there’s coffee. The coffee is pretty rough, fair warning, the beans are all like five years old.”

You poured them each a cup, grabbed a slice of bread and went and sat on your small couch. Joel frowned, taking a piece of jerky and his coffee and sitting next to you. You just raised your eyebrows at him but didn’t question when he put his arm on the back of the couch and you slid into your place against him, head on his chest. He put his arm around you. This was better.

“So how’s the ration card thing work?” Tommy asked after a moment of looking between the two of you.

“They’ve basically just replaced money at this point,” you shrugged, still tucked against Joel’s side. He could feel you breathing. “I think they were intended to work differently than that - I was only in some of those discussions. I helped Dr. Elias set up the medical facilities here at first so I know a lot more about that. Even though that’s devolved a bit, too. I’ve tried to keep the better things going as I can but we’re reliant on what we can get from FEDRA out of Atlanta when it comes to medications and supplies. Originally, ration cards were intended to make it so everyone had enough and no one took too much but of course human nature took hold. I work a lot - don’t exactly have much else going on in my life - and it’s just me, so I’ve got a bit of a stash built up. We can use that to help make sure you guys get set up in a decent place, have food to get you going, that sort of thing.”

“We can’t have you wasting your money on us,” Tommy tried to wave you off but you scoffed. “The fuck else am I supposed to use it on?” You rolled your eyes. “I’d rather them go to something good than sit with me forever.”

After breakfast, you made Joel get off the couch and moved it slightly, prying up a floorboard below it. You pulled out an old shoebox and grabbed a few handfuls of cards from it, tucking them into a small bag.

“Trusting you guys with the location of my secret stash,” you teased. “Don’t go clearing me out now.”

You looked between them for a moment before something seemed to occur to you.

“Oh, duh,” you shook your head. “I don’t think I have much here that would fit either of you - Andrew’s a bit on the skinny side - but did you want to shower real quick? We can always come back later, after we get you some clean clothes and whatnot but if you want to clean up now, too…”

“Later’s fine,” Joel said quickly. He wasn’t sure he could handle being somewhat alone with you in your small apartment while Tommy got cleaned up. Not yet. Not if Andrew had clothes at your place.

“Then on to the next adventure,” you smiled and led the way.

You took them through the city, pointing out various landmarks and things of note (“That’s the speakeasy. Technically illegal but FEDRA officers are in there as often as anyone else, really the only safe spot for a drink in town.” “That’s where you go to find work until you can get something steady.” “Market’s here, use ration cards to get what you need…”). Your fingers were always laced with Joel’s. It seemed like everyone there knew you. Everywhere you stopped, someone said hi. Everyone called you Doc, like that was your name. Except one older man who made you practically jump out of your skin when you saw him.

“Abe!” You called out, waving your arm up high. He spotted you and you started pulling Joel along behind you to meet him.

“Sweets!” He pulled you in for a quick hug before looking Joel up and down. “Who’s this?”

“It’s Joel and Tommy,” you smiled so huge your face shone with it. Abe’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, Sweets,” he hugged you again. Your hand stayed in Joel’s. “I’m so happy for you. How’d you find them?”

“They showed up yesterday evening,” you were still smiling. “I knew they would turn up eventually…”

“You did,” Abe stepped back from you, lifting your chin with his fingers, smiling affectionately at you. “Just goes to show you shouldn’t listen to an old man like me.”

He looked at Joel at Tommy for a moment, like he was looking at ghosts, before looking back to you.

“Take it I won’t be seeing you tomorrow then?” He asked, half smiling.

“Hey, I said I’d bring you muffins,” you replied. “They just might be a few days late.”

“You’ve fattened me up enough,” he hugged you tightly. “How about I just see you around. I’m so happy for you, sweetheart.”

You watched him go for a second before turning back to Joel and Tommy.

“I’m so sorry, I am so bad at introducing people now,” you shook your head. “I’ve just known everyone for years… That was Abe. He’s the radio operator here. It’s underground, goes to the other QZs but FEDRA turns a pretty blind eye. I’ve been his most regular customer for the last five years.”

“Why?” Tommy frowned. “Why’d he seem to know us?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” you replied, starting off again. “I figured if anyone was going to make it out alive, you guys were. And I didn’t think you’d go to a QZ until you either absolutely had to or you decided life outside the QZ wasn’t worth the trouble and you decided to give it a shot on the inside. I knew you’d turn up eventually. So Abe’s been radioing all the other QZs for me twice a week every week to see if you’d turned up.”

Joel roughly pulled you into his chest, breathing in your hair. You hesitated for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You OK?” You asked, voice muffled.

“Yeah,” he said. “Got you.”

He could barely pay attention to anything else that happened. You hadn’t given up on him. You’d been searching, calling around, trying to track him down, certain that he was alive somewhere. You hadn’t given up on him. He’d just given up on you.

Five years. Five fucking years you’d been almost exactly where he’d told you to go. Had he just gone where he’d said he’d go, he’d have tried Boston almost immediately. And he’d have found you. He could have been with you the last half a decade and instead he’d been wandering the wasteland that had been the United States, finding places to lay low, killing whoever he needed to for supplies, justifying it with survival. And you’d been here, searching for him.

There were a few changes about you he noticed as you helped them through the process of getting set up in the QZ. One was, you’d become a deft negotiator. You were still you about it - never cold or cruel, all kindness and sweetness as you bartered, leveraging your personality and skills in the process - but it was strange to see you go back and forth with the housing person to try to get them what you thought was a suitable place. You did it, though, counting out the ration cards in your bag and passing them over with a kind smile.

You did something similar at the clothing shop, chatting with the woman who was putting out new stock to get her to point out where the better stuff was and asking after the cashier’s child (“How’s that incision looking? Still holding food down OK? Need me to come by and check up on him?”) She gave you a discount and you told her to just come by the clinic if she changed her mind about her son, that you’d be happy to make a house call.

Five years you’d been here and you’d built yourself a life. You somehow managed to have everyone you met wrapped around your finger. It was the end of the fucking world and you’d made everyone fall in love with you. Of course you had. You’d stayed sweet and soft and kind through it all and Joel couldn’t understand it.

You stopped by the market on the way home and picked up a few things to make dinner and told Tommy and Joel to get cleaned up while you cooked. Joel went first, he needed to try to get his head right before being alone with you. He didn’t know how he was going to handle it, didn’t know what the deal was with you and Andrew, didn’t know what to want from you - what it was OK to want from you.

He put on the clean clothes and looked in the mirror at himself for a moment. Could you still want him now? Was that even a possibility? Should he just thank you for your help, go to his new apartment with his brother, and try to forget you? He didn’t know.

You were in the kitchen when he came out. There was a Fleetwood Mac album on and you were unconsciously bobbing your head in time to the music. Tommy gave Joel a look on his way to the bathroom, a look that said ‘don’t fuck this up you absolute idiot.’ Joel just shrugged at him. You glanced behind you.

“I’m afraid I can’t promise you anything too fancy,” you smiled a little. “But I do have some beer if you want?”

“Beer is good,” Joel nodded. You nodded back, sucking something off your thumb before going to the fridge. The beer was in large jars and you poured two glasses of it, handing one to Joel and taking a sip of your own before putting a baking dish in the oven. You busied yourself cleaning up the kitchen and Joel took a moment to look around your place.

“You still have the quilt,” he said, looking down at the bed.

“Oh,” you glanced at him, giving him a half smile. “Yeah. When I was packing a bag that night, I had some space and I really wanted to keep it if I could… turns out, it survived the trip.”

You’d had to patch it a few times over the years, some of the small purple flowers much brighter than the others.

“My mom made it,” you said, rinsing a measuring cup. “When she was pregnant with me. It’s the only thing I have of her, the only sign I have that she thought I might have been worth the trouble at some point, even if it was just for a bit. I didn’t want to leave it behind.”

He looked at you for a moment.

“It was her loss, Kid,” he said softly. You just shrugged. He went back to looking around your place, freezing at the photo on your nightstand.

It was framed - you’d painted it, flowers over the gouges in the wood - and Sarah stared back at him. His heart was pounding. He picked it up slowly, almost in a daze.

He hadn’t seen her face in years. You’d taken the photo on your hiking trip, just over a year before the outbreak. It was slightly off center. You were the only one looking at the camera. Sarah was looking at you, smiling, and Joel was looking at her. You looked like a family. You’d been a family. It was how it was supposed to be.

His eyes traced the planes of her face, trying to make sure he remembered everything right. Just where her freckles lay, the way her eyelashes fanned out, the few curls around her temples that were a bit more unruly than the others.

“Oh, Jesus,” you dropped whatever you’d been cleaning. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that, I should have put that away…”

“Where’d…” he asked, still looking at the picture.

“I grabbed a few photos as I was packing,” you said quietly. “I have a few of the three of us, one or two of me and Nan, one of me and Becca… I had a feeling I wouldn’t be back so I wanted to make sure I had them.”

You were quiet for a moment.

“You can have that one,” you said. “Or one of the others. All the others, if you want. I’m in them, too, but they have… I’m guessing you don’t…”

“Didn’t grab anything,” he said, setting the photo back down. “It was too hectic. Was just tryin’ to get the fuck out.”

“I was only able to take stuff because of you,” you said softly, looking down at the ground for a moment before looking up at him. “I’m only alive because of you.”

The water turned off in the shower. You went back to cleaning up.

Dinner was surprisingly good. Joel wasn’t sure how you’d turned mostly canned stuff into something good but you had. It probably helped that he and Tommy had been living on shit or anything they could hunt for a while - wasn’t like they had fucking garlic lying around - but it would have been good regardless.

Tommy was kind enough to keep the conversation going through dinner, asking you questions that had run through Joel’s mind but he hadn’t been able to make himself say it. Like how you’d come to be known as doc. He had an odd moment of pride, hearing how you’d persevered and done what you’d dreamed of doing in the midst of it all. You said you also taught at the FEDRA school during the day before going and working in the clinic at night. The school was understanding when you got pulled away for emergencies - apparently mass casualty incidents happened in QZs, too - and it sounded like you enjoyed the odd balance you’d been able to strike between educator and medical professional. He didn’t, however, ask about Andrew.

“Well, Kid, I think you’ve spoiled me enough for one day,” Tommy patted his stomach. You smiled.

“Happy to have the chance to do it,” you said.

“I think I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted… go start settling in to the new place,” he got up and clapped Joel on the shoulder.

“If you need anything, you know where to find me,” you smiled. “Seriously, any time. I want to help. I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks, Kid,” he smiled before looking at his brother. “Joel.” He gave him a nod and then left. You watched him go for a second before taking a sip of beer.

“You’ve done well for yourself here,” Joel said after a moment of awkward silence. “Better than just survivin’.”

“Thanks,” you smiled a little. “Figured if I was stuck living through the end of the world, I should do what I can with it, right?”

“Suppose so,” he half smiled back. He took another drink of beer.

“Joel,” you sighed after a moment. “I should apologize for what I said yesterday.”

He frowned.

“What d’you mean?”

“Before I left for the night,” you weren’t looking at him, you were staring down at your empty plate. “When I said I loved you… I shouldn’t have said that and I’m sorry. I understand that it’s been a long time, a lot has happened, we weren’t even together when…”

“Don’t apologize for that,” he cut you off. Your eyes met his. “I… liked hearin’ it.”

“I just don’t want you to feel remotely obligated to me,” you said. “Not in any way. You don’t need to even be my friend if you don’t want to. I’ll still help you guys get settled, you can even consider it payment for saving my life when the world came crashing down if that makes it better…”

“I just don’t want to disrupt your life, Kid,” he said, sitting back in his chair. Fuck, you were pretty. “You’ve got a life here. An actual life. You’ve got a career doing something you love, you’ve got people, you’ve got Andrew… I don’t want to fuck it up for you.”

“You won’t.”

“Not sure Andrew agrees with that,” he said, grinding his teeth a bit. He thought of Andrew touching you, the way he held you, kissed your head, they way he must kiss other parts of you…

“Andrew’s being a jackass,” you waved him off. “He’ll come around.”

“How long have you two…” he trailed off. You frowned.

“We met during the outbreak,” you said. “Made it to the QZ together…”

“Is that when…”

You looked at him, head cocked, confused. It took you a moment to catch up and you laughed, hard.

“What?” He asked, his turn to be confused now.

“No, I’m sorry,” you caught your breath. “I’m sorry, I’m still not used to being around people I’m not already around all the time… No, Andrew is not my boyfriend.”

Joel must not have looked convinced because you kept going.

“I forget that it must seem odd for people who don’t know us,” you sank back in your chair, beer in hand. “But we’re much more like siblings than anything else. He was 18 when the outbreak happened, I found him in the woods on his own with a broken arm a few days after I left home. I set his arm and he traveled with us. We kept each other alive, saw each other through the absolute worst of it. I’d be dead on the side of the road somewhere in New York State if it wasn’t for him and he’d probably be infected if it weren’t for me. But by the time we got to Boston, we’d gotten so used to needing each other to survive, one of us couldn’t really function without the other. Took a few months before we could sleep apart. We got separate places when the QZ was really getting set up because we realized how we were living probably wasn’t healthy, but we kept doing it, anyway. But no, not the least bit romantic. Or physical. At least, not in that way. We still sleep in the same bed when one of us is overwhelmed or just has a hard day, it’s the only way we can really function. I stayed with him last night, actually. It’s the only reason I slept at all. He’s just… who I have. And I’m who he has. We get each other. We need each other. It’s a bit codependent but…”

Joel nodded slowly. He got it, in a way. He and Tommy had barely spent 10 minutes apart over the last five years. He had no idea how he’d handle being apart for a day. Even here, he’d be worried about him. Thinking he needed to keep him alive, at least for a while.

“So do you have… anyone else?” He asked.

“Are you asking if I have a boyfriend?” Your eyebrows were raised. He just nodded once. You have him a small half smile.

“No,” you said. “No boyfriends. Been hung up on this ex of mine for a while. Doesn’t make for a great dating life…”

“Sounds like a fuckin’ fool for letting you go,” he replied.

You shrugged.

“Well the end of the world kind of happened in there,” you said. “Think he gets a pass.”

He watched you across the table, your hair loose around your face, lips full. It’s not that he hadn’t been with other women since you. He had. If there was someone willing and he had the urge, he wasn’t about to say no. Getting lost in someone else for a bit was one of the few things that made existence worth it anymore. But it had been years since it had been anything but a fleeting escape. It had been since you.

“Can I get you another beer?” You nodded to his nearly empty glass. He just gave you a nod and you refilled both glasses, moving to your small couch. The Fleetwood Mac album had started over. You gave Joel his glass but walked past him and sat on your couch, one leg crossed over the other.

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to get me on your couch?” He asked, his eyes roaming over you. You shrugged.

“No one’s making you do a damn thing, Miller.”

He moved to the couch. You are stayed on your side of it, sipping your beer, seemingly happy to just have him close. He reached out and tucked your hair behind your ear, exposing your neck. There were white scars down the side of your throat to your shoulder. He frowned, tracing them.

“What happened here?” He asked quietly. You set your beer on the small table in front of the couch and glanced at him.

“That happened a few minutes after the last time we spoke,” you fidgeted with the seam on your jeans. “Nan had turned, pinned me down in my room as I finished getting packed. I’d already grabbed the shotgun thankfully, I had to shoot her to get away.”

“Oh Baby,” he said softly, pulling you against his chest. You melted into him. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged but pressed yourself closer to him. He enveloped you. You fit against him the same way you always had, like you belonged there. As though he’d been designed to hold you, protect you. But he’d failed at that. You looked up at him.

“I’m sure we both did a lot of things we aren’t happy with or proud of to get here,” you said quietly. “I wouldn’t have been able to shoot her if not for you. If you’d never called that night, I’d never have gotten the gun. I wouldn’t have known what was happening. I wouldn’t have been able to bring myself to hurt her if I hadn’t been trying to get to you. But you got me here. I’m alive because of you and Andrew. I don’t care what you did to get here, Joel. Only that you got here.”

He kissed you then, your lips soft and sweet on his. You stretched into his kiss and his tongue dipped into your mouth as he held your body close to his own. His grip grew firmer and your body shifted to align with his, him laying you beneath him, covering you with him. He pulled away from you slightly, searching your eyes.

“You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t want,” he said, already breathless. You nodded but bit your lip. “What is it? I can stop, I can go…”

“No!” You said quickly, eyes going wide. “No, please don’t, I’m just… out of practice. It’s been… a while.”

He frowned.

“How long?”

You blushed a bit.

“Since 2003?” You said it like a question more than an answer. He tried to hide his surprise and brushed your hair back.

“I’d like to change that,” he said softly. “If you’ll let me.”

You nodded quickly and his mouth was back against yours.

He had to fight to go slow with you. It had been so long since he’d been with someone he cared about, so long since he’d wanted someone like he wanted you. But he traced the contours of your body, getting to know you again, what parts of you made you melt into him, what parts made you freeze for a moment. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what caused those moments. He kissed you softly, deeply. It was like coming home, like the world hadn’t ended, like he hadn’t been stupid enough to leave you to begin with. He was right where he was always supposed to be.

You pulled at his shirt and he took it off. Your fingers ran over his chest, tracing the new scars he’d collected over his years dodging infected and humans alike. You kissed each one gently, your lips staying against each spot on his skin for a moment.

His fingers found the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” He asked. You just nodded. He pulled it up and away, tossing it somewhere near his. You had scars, too. One on your shoulder looked particularly bad. He kissed it before tracing it with his thumb.

“Bullet graze,” you said softly, sadly. “On my birthday in 03.”

He kissed it again, his mouth moving down over your shoulder to your breasts, tracing your cleavage with his lips. He reached around behind you, your back arching into him, and he unhooked your bra before gently sliding it off. His memory hadn’t done you justice, you were so much more beautiful than his mind seemed capable of containing. He touched you softly, relearning how your breasts filled his hands, the way your nipples peaked against him. He took one into his mouth, sucking you, holding you as you moaned and ground your hips against his torso. He smiled as he trailed kisses over your chest to your other nipple, sucking you there, too.

His hands traced over your body, down to your pants. He opened them, kissing back up your chest to your mouth before looking in your eyes. You just nodded and he pulled your jeans and panties down your legs, lifting from you just enough to leave the last of your clothes on the floor.

He went back to his place between your legs, kissing down your stomach until he reached your slit. Your breath caught and he pressed his lips to your clit, his tongue slipping between to gently tease you until he felt you take a shaky breath against him.

Joel dipped his tongue into you, tasting you, opening you to him. You moaned, hips working against his face and he smiled against you. He’d forgotten just how damn good it felt to give you pleasure, to make you lose yourself to him.

He slipped a finger inside you as he sucked your clit, curving it into the place he still knew made you melt and he felt you tighten around him.

“Joel,” you whimpered and fuck he’d forgotten how good his name sounded on your tongue when you were about to cum. He added a finger, sucked you harder, worked you until he felt you flutter around his fingers, a choking moan slipping from you.

He’d also forgotten what it was like to be desperate for someone. To want to be inside you so badly he’d shed his skin just for the chance to be inside yours. He was breathless with it, it felt like he’d die for wanting you if he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this hard, the last time his whole body ached with need.

You were still coming down from your orgasm when he took off his pants and underwear, leaving them on your floor. Your body was pliant as you panted for breath below him. He ran his fingers over your slit, slick and wanting, collecting your wetness and coating himself in you. He notched his head at your entrance and you moaned, reaching for him.

“Joel,” you keened. “Please, I need…”

“I know Baby,” he said softly, sinking into you as you gasped. He could only gain a few inches, you were almost impossibly tight around him. You moaned, rocking your hips against him and he almost collapsed against you. “Just let me inside you Baby, just relax and let me inside you…”

You whimpered, all but incoherent, and he took you by the hips, holding your in place as he worked his way deeper into you, opening your body to him until he was fully inside you.

This he hadn’t forgotten. He’d sometimes lived in the memory of just how you felt around him, how you felt like two halves of the same whole, how it seemed like you’d been made for him. It was the only justification he could find for anything feeling quite as good, quite as right, as being inside you. His head fell to your chest and he panted for breath, desperate to move but desperate to never pull back from you.

“Fuck, Joel,” you were gasping, your fingers in his hair. “God, I missed you. I missed you so much, I love…”

He cut you off with a kiss, pulling himself back from you just enough to thrust forward again, pushing all the way inside you with every stroke, needing to be fully inside you as much as he could.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered and you rushed to obey. He picked you up - buried deep inside you - and moved you to your bed. His movements became harder, more insistent, your body tightening around him with every stroke.

“Joel,” you moaned. He wasn’t sure you were even fully aware of what you were saying, your fingers digging into his back, your pussy tightening around him. “Please, need to feel you…”

He kissed you again, pressing into you harder, moving faster until he felt you start to come undone around him and he emptied himself into you, gasping for breath and all but collapsing on top of you. He held himself inside you, both unwilling and unable to move, you feeling too good to ever want to leave. You held him as your breathing eased, your body lax beneath his.

For the first time in more than five years, it felt like he was home.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this posted! I've been on vacation this week trying really hard to pay attention to my husband and NOT fictional men. This chapter written in part in a poolside cabana on my cell phone this afternoon :)

Now y'all. This chapter has a happy ending and I need you to know... it's not the HEA yet. THERE'S SO MUCH MORE DRAMA COMING GUYS. So much more for them to work through and so much more to have happen - we haven't even met Tess or Ellie yet. But we gotta have little pops of happy in here, right?

As always, thanks so much for reading, reflagging and commenting, I love you all!

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #smut fic #joel miller x you #fanfic

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