#SOMEONE GET HIM AWAY FROM QZ PLEASE HE’S JUST A KID
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sixhours · 5 months ago
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haunting me
What if Joel was a ghost?
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Rating: Teen Words: 4.9k Tags: Major Character Deaths, The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel & Ellie, Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, Tess Servopoulos, Marlene, Tommy Miller, canon divergence, not really a happy ending sorry, ghost AU, hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical violence, implied sexual assault, Joel is a ghost so he's dead, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3
Notes: This is a bit different from my usual style, just in time for spooky season. 👻
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This time, the guy doesn’t miss.
And the guy is a girl. A fuckin’ teenager.
Either she’s a crack shot or she got really fuckin’ lucky, because he’s on the floor with a bullet in his brain before he can warn Tess.
It should be a relief to be dead.
He waits for the light. For whatever is supposed to happen now. He’s never been religious, but he always believed there had to be something more…after.
Because Sarah deserved that.
He, apparently, does not. Because he’s forced to watch this exchange between Tess and Marlene and the little shit who murdered him, and he’s not going anywhere.
Well, shit.
He fails at everything.
He failed to protect Sarah.
He failed to keep Tommy from running off with the Fireflies.
And now he fails at fuckin’ dying.
He has no legs, no arms, no body that he can see. He appears to be attached to Tess. She’s grabbed the kid by the arm and they're hauling ass, and he’s forced to drift along.
The fact that she doesn’t shed a tear over his dead body should probably hurt more than it does. What does he care? He’s dead.
He tries to stay. Focuses all his energy on just…staying put.
It works until it doesn’t.
Tess gets far enough away and he starts to feel this…pull. Someone is ripping out his guts, using them like a tether. Not that he has a body to speak of, not that he can feel pain, but it’s…bad.
Assholes like Robert used to say that Tess kept Joel on a short leash.
Guess they weren’t wrong.
~*~
They leave the QZ.
Time has gone sideways. It’s like he’s in a fever dream, cycling in and out of consciousness.
The kid falls asleep, and he’s forced to watch as Tess breaks down–as much as Tess ever breaks down. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen her cry.
It’s maybe a couple tears, that’s what his life means to her. It’s more than he deserves.
It’s the first time he tries to interact with this strange un-body. He focuses all his energy on reaching out, imagines himself with a hand, with fingers–and surprisingly, it works. It’s faint, but he can feel it, an extension of his essence, a literal phantom limb.
Just one touch. A hand on the shoulder. That’s all he needs.
I’m here.
He gets a violent shiver for the trouble. She pulls her jacket more firmly around her shoulders and wipes her eyes.
So much for that.
~*~
Sometimes he could swear the kid can see him.
She looks at him like she’s–well, like she’s seen a damn ghost.
The State House was a fuckin’ mess. If it were up to Joel, they’d have turned right the fuck around and took the kid back to the QZ and washed their hands of it.
Besides, the little murderer shot him. He’d like to remind Tess of this fact.
He can’t.
And Tess is too fuckin’ stubborn. Stubborn and hopeful. The worst combination.
So they’re going to Bill and Frank’s.
~*~
Bill and Frank are dead.
Joel holds out a tiny bit of hope for their ghosts to linger.
He never much cared for talking in life, but it turns out hanging over the shoulder of your partner without any way to talk to her is pretty fuckin’ lonely.
But there’s nothing there that Joel can see or feel or hear. No trace of their souls, just two more bodies. He makes the mistake of floating through the locked door to their bedroom and wishes he hadn’t.
He supposes they didn’t have any unfinished business.
Joel didn’t think he did, either, but…here he is.
There’s a letter–addressed to him, ironically–and the keys to that piece-of-shit Chevy S10.
That's why men like you and me are here: We have a job to do.
~*~
He learns more than he ever wanted to know about his murderer.
Her name is Ellie. She’s fourteen, orphaned. Really desperate to hold a fuckin’ gun, but thankfully Tess is holding firm on that count. She won’t shut the fuck up.
She’s immune.
But what does he care? Dead people can’t be infected.
The kicker is, Tess likes the damn kid. She doesn’t say it, but he can tell.
He always thought she’d be a good mother. He’s pretty sure she was, once. Outbreak Day, both of them trashed and she said his name under her breath like a prayer.
Charlie.
Tess has never heard his daughter’s name.
It seems really fuckin’ unfair to be dead and still feel like he’s dying.
~*~
They’re camped out somewhere in the forest in Western Massachusetts when she asks.
“Tess?”
“What?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
The kid is looking right at him the whole damn time. It’d be unnerving if he had any nerves.
Tess snorts. “I dunno, kid. Why do you ask?”
A long pause. The kid’s eyes on him are fire-bright.
“No reason.”
~*~
It’s a long fuckin’ drive. Joel spends most of it disassociating, or whatever the ghost equivalent is.
At some point, the little murderer pulls out a book of shitty puns and he wishes he were dead for real.
Tess pretends to be annoyed but he catches her smirking before long.
She’s so good with her. It hurts to watch.
He learns to ignore the kid’s looks. Sometimes he channels that energy, reaches out a hand–it’s getting easier with practice–and it’s like she jumps when he touches her. Like she actually feels something more than a chill.
Tess still isn’t any closer.
He doesn’t sleep. Not like he can get tired, anyway.
He wanders their campsite like a guard. As if he could do anything about it if something goes bad aside from giving their attacker a bad case of goosebumps. But they don’t run into anyone.
Not ‘til Kansas City.
~*~
She shoulda gone the fuck around.
It feels like he’s watching a horror movie. No matter how much he screams, the outcome never changes.
They make it through the first shootout, but Tess doesn’t see one of ‘em coming. Then she’s on her back being choked and Joel can’t do a damn thing about it.
What happens if Tess dies? Does he die, too?
Again?
Seems like he’s about to find out.
Desperate, he goes to the little murderer. He knows she has a gun now, knows she stole it from Bill and Frank’s when Tess wasn’t looking.
No time to think about it.
He summons his energy and tries with all his might to guide her hand.
The shot that killed him must have been a fluke because she almost misses the kid from point-blank range. But Tess is saved.
Close fuckin’ call.
~*~
They barely make it out of the city alive.
He watches helplessly as Tess snipes at the infected and tries to clear a path for the kid to get free. Tess was never as good a shot as him, but she’s holding her own.
By some miracle, she manages not to shoot the damn kid.
(Why he gives a shit about that, he doesn’t know.)
Tess has grown attached. He can see it in the way she looks at her, sees the fierce, protective mama bear she must have been. Is becoming.
Best not to think about that.
Neither Henry or Sam seem to feel Joel’s presence, and that’s just fine.
They don’t last long, anyway.
~*~
It’s a long fuckin’ walk to Wyoming.
The little murderer still looks at him weird sometimes, but after the whole Henry and Sam thing, she’s mostly quiet. Tess ain’t too chipper, either.
By the time they cross the state lines, it’s cold. Or Joel assumes it’s cold–there’s snow underfoot and the wind blows Tess’ golden hair around her chapped cheeks.
God, he wishes he could feel those strands between his fingers one more time.
Why she hasn’t given up on this little mission is beyond him. More than once, he wishes she’d drop the damn kid at the nearest QZ and call it a draw.
But no. Tess remains stubborn, and she likes the kid, and Joel is tethered to his partner for whatever godforsaken reason.
Fate is a weird son-of-a-bitch.
Because now they’re looking for Tommy.
~*~
Joel died looking every one of his fifty-six years and then some.
Tommy looks like he’s aged backward. Joel can practically smell the rosemary oil in his hair.
Damn, he missed his brother.
Tess gives Tommy some shit about his little disappearing act. Not nearly enough, in Joel’s estimation, but it’s not like he gets a say.
Tommy sheds a tear over Joel, but he doesn’t look surprised. The asshole went and got himself married. They’re having a kid.
Idiot.
Joel tries to hug him. Just once. When he’s standing with his new wife at the movies.
It goes about the way he’d expected. Tommy checks the doors for a draft.
There’s some Firefly base down in Colorado. They’re going south.
~*~
Colorado.
The hunters come, four of ‘em.
All he can do is watch.
~*~
Tess is gone.
To give the kid credit, she’s resourceful in a crisis. Manages to get Tess to a nearby house, clears the place the way she was taught, gets her on a mattress and drags her to the basement.
But it’s not enough. She’s bleeding too much.
Joel watches his partner slip away.
He waits to disappear. No more leash, no more tether. Nothing chaining him to this world.
When that doesn’t happen, he waits for her to appear beside him. Maybe he’ll have company.
But she doesn’t.
And then…there’s still the damn kid.
She’s pretty broken up about it. Curled over Tess’ cold body, pleading and swiping at her eyes. Joel almost channels his energy into trying to comfort her then thinks better of it. So far all he’s managed to do is make people cold.
Then she looks up. That uneasy stare, squinting. Right at him.
Wide eyes, big brown saucers in her too-small head. Her breath is a wisp of vapor in the stale basement air.
“I knew it!”
~*~
“You’re–you’re the–the one I–”
There’s no fuckin’ way.
“Are you a fucking ghost?”
“I–”
It’s the first time he’s tried to speak since he was killed. It comes out as a rasp, a moan.
It scares her.
It scares him.
“You–you can…hear me?”
She nods jerkily, pressing herself against the far wall with Tess’ body between them. Her chest heaves, fast and shallow.
“Kid, don’t–”
She passes out.
~*~
He’s kneeling beside her. Floating, more like. Although something about her recognizing him has him feeling…more solid. Corporeal.
She jerks awake at his touch, the faintest drag of a finger against her cheek.
She screams. He cringes.
“You’re a fucking ghost! How the fuck–what–”
He doesn’t have an answer for that.
“I–I shot you,” she says. “I killed you. You were–you were dead and I thought–I thought I saw–holy fuck.”
His damn mouth won’t move. He’s forgotten he can speak.
“Joel? That’s your name, right? Tess said–said you were Joel.”
She can hear him. She can see him.
Holy fuck is right.
She reaches out and he feels it. He feels her hand on his arm. It’s not like before, more like…like the way you can feel a cloud. But it’s there.
Then she pokes at him. Again and again, jabbing her finger into his cloud-arm, scrunching her fingers, testing him like clay. He feels every single touch.
“Cut that out,” he snaps, voice still rusty. She jerks back as if afraid.
Then she grins.
“This is so fucking cool.”
~*~
No time to figure it out.
They were followed.
Shoulda seen that coming. Blood trail and hoofprints from where Tess fell, it was only a matter of time. So fuckin’ stupid.
But she’s just a kid.
“You gotta go,” he says. “Go to Tommy. Go north.”
She nods, swallows hard. Then she’s pounding up the stairs. He hears the garage door rattle open, the sound of hoofprints overhead. He ascends to the surface so he can watch her disappear.
She’ll be safe. Tommy will take her in.
And then he feels that awful, sickening pull.
One last look at the body on the mattress, his partner. His friend. His…
He sends the thought out to the ether before he’s dragged away.
Tess? I’m sorry.
He’s been attached to the damn kid this whole time.
~*~
Things get real bad after that.
She doesn’t make it out of the suburb before the horse is shot. Joel is forced to watch as she’s thrown, knocked unconscious.
They’re dragged to some shitty resort town; her by the bad men, him tethered to her.
When she wakes, he’s the first thing she sees.
They’re in a cage. Or she is. At least he can look around, get the lay of the land. For all the fuckin’ good it does.
He can feel her fear like a physical ache.
“Joel,” she pleads in a whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”
This kid, the kid who fuckin’ shot him.
“I know,” he says, promises: “We’re gonna get you out.”
~*~
Turns out being a ghost makes him pretty fuckin’ useless.
He casts himself out of the building as far as he can. He finds the bodies strung up like slaughtered hogs. He finds the dead horse. He finds her backpack.
He can’t do a damn thing about any of it.
When David comes back, she breaks his finger and he bloodies her face against the bars of the cell.
The sight sets a fire inside him.
Then they haul her out. Chopping block. Joel throws himself at the assholes but it does no good. It hurts, like there’s some kind of force field, a black edge he can’t cross.
Meanwhile, Ellie struggles and uses that smartass mouth to get herself free. Attagirl.
She keeps her eyes on Joel the whole time.
She ain’t stupid, this one. Then there’s a cleaver embedded in one of their necks, and Joel yells at her to run.
She does.
So does David. Cat and mouse through the whole goddamned restaurant. She sets the place on fire.
If Joel had a heart it would be clawing at his ribs like a wild animal.
Then she’s straining and struggling underneath the leader of the fuckin’ cannibal cult.
Joel doesn’t think, all his protective instincts send him lunging forward. He throws his whole being into it, past the black edge, past the force field, until he feels the resistance give and their bodies merge and the shock of it stills the other man for one precious, infinite second.
It takes everything he has to hold him. It’s just barely enough.
Ellie grabs the cleaver. Joel is flung out of David’s body like a rubber band snapping violently back.
There’s so much blood.
The whole town burns at their backs.
Good fuckin’ riddance.
~*~
Later, bruised and bloodied and holed up in a shack somewhere.
“You need to go back to Tommy. He’ll take care of you.”
“I need to find the Fireflies.”
“Kid–”
“We’re going to Salt Lake City.”
“Not a fuckin’ chance.”
“You have to come with me. You’re, like, stuck to me, right? You don’t have a choice.”
She’s not wrong about that.
The little shit.
But he has to try, one last time.
“Kid, you can’t–you’ll never make it alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have you.”
~*~
Never mind infected or raiders or cannibal cults, the kid will be lucky if she doesn’t freeze to death. Tess taught her a lot on the road, but not enough to get her through a brutal winter in the mountains.
At some point, they have to admit defeat. Or she does. The snow’s too deep, the wind too biting, the resources too scarce.
They hole up in an abandoned town to wait out the cold, and he shows her how to survive.
Gotta have somethin’ to pass the time, anyway.
That’s what he tells himself.
~*~
“Can you fly?”
“No.”
“Do you get tired?”
“No.”
“How did you get to be a ghost?”
“Someone shot me,” he says flatly.
“Okaaaay, guess I deserve that. But I mean–I mean why didn’t you go toward the light or whatever?”
“I dunno.”
“C’mon, there must be some reason. Do you have, like, unfinished business?”
“No.”
“Then why are you still here, man?”
“Wish I knew, kid.”
“Oh, oh wait! Are there other ghosts? Can you like, see dead people everywhere? Like in that movie?”
She’s practically vibrating. This fuckin’ kid.
“No.”
“But what if there are? What if–”
“You ask a lotta fuckin’ questions,” he sighs.
“Yes,” she says, smug little thing. “I do.”
~*~
Turns out, Joel is pretty good at finding game. He’s silent, no tread to scare off the rabbits or deer, and he has a decent range–maybe half a mile or so. Can even get some height if he focuses enough, scanning the woods from higher up.
He shows her how to track, how to set snares, how to scavenge.
The kid’s a decent shot…when she’s not talkin’ his fuckin’ ear off.
She does the bloody work of dressing their kills. He walks her through it step by step and soon she’s eating roasted rabbit over a roaring fire, grease dripping down her chin.
Pearls of teenage wisdom fall from her lips like rain.
“They should call it undressing. Because it’s like, y’know. Undressing…from the inside.”
Jesus Christ.
~*~
He can’t hunt, but he can teach her how.
He can’t build a fire, but he can wake her up when it starts to die.
He can’t fight for her, but he can keep watch.
He can’t keep her warm, but he can keep her company.
Maybe he’s not so useless after all.
~*~
Sometimes he forgets she’s just a kid.
Until it’s the middle of the night and she’s shuddering awake and leaking tears and struggling for breath. Alone, but not.
Tess always shivered.
Ellie doesn’t. She leans into him before he can stop her, seeking comfort like another little girl a lifetime ago, and it’s almost…warm. Almost like before.
He didn’t know he could miss it so much.
When he puts his arms around her for the first time, he feels more alive than he has in years.
“You’re okay, baby girl. I got you.”
~*~
She survives the winter.
They walk for days.
He tells her about Tommy. He tells her about life Before. He teaches her about football and contracting.
He tells her about Sarah.
He watches her face light up at the sight of a giraffe.
Everything inside him wants to turn tail and run back to Jackson. He can’t, because she won’t.
Won’t stop him from tryin’, though.
“You don’t have to do this. You know that, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t owe Marlene, you don’t owe the Fireflies, you don’t owe ‘em anythin’. You can go back to Jackson. Be a normal kid.”
She scoffs, looking at her arm.
“I passed normal a long time ago, dude.”
~*~
And then they find the hospital.
He has to remind her to stop looking at him when she talks to Marlene.
“They’re gonna think you’re nuts.”
“I’m talking to a fucking ghost. I probably am.”
They settle her in a room. Marlene explains what will happen. It will be soon; tomorrow.
“It’s a straightforward procedure. No pain. We put you under, we do the op, then we’ll send you on your way.”
He has a bad feeling about this.
~*~
He wanders the hospital halls while she sleeps, drawn to a low light, hushed voices. Early morning sun just cresting the horizon.
He hears brain surgery and harvest and no recovery.
He hears chance and theory and hopefully.
“And you’re sure someone won’t come looking for her?”
“I told you, she’s an orphan.”
“But how the hell did she make it here by herself?”
“Jesus, Jerry. Relax.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to fucking like it. You just have to do the operation.”
~*~
He shakes her awake.
“We gotta go. They’re gonna kill you.”
“What? But Marlene said–”
“She lied.”
She’s hesitating. Why the fuck is she hesitating?
Her voice goes small. “What if…what if I still want to do it?”
“You’re not understandin’ me, kid. They don’t even know if this thing’ll work, and you’ll be dead. Gone.”
She’s picking her damn cuticles bloody.
“But…but all this…can’t be for nothing,” she says. “Riley and Tess and Sam and Henry, and–and even you. You died because of me. Don’t you want that to…to mean something?”
“Look, kid, I've been both places. You make meaning by livin’. Not dyin’.”
She doesn’t believe him. She has to believe him.
Hand to her shoulder, he gets in her face. “Do you trust me?”
She swallows hard, nods.
“Ellie? Who are you talking to?”
Too late.
Marlene, at the door.
~*~
In the end, Marlene doesn’t give her a choice.
They get more than they bargained for, but one underfed little girl is no match for a team of soldiers.
Dragging her under her arms as she screams and claws. She fights all the way to the table, she fights as they’re putting the mask on to sedate her, she fights until her last breath.
And Joel fights, too. If he did it with David, he can do it again. He has to fuckin’ try.
There’s that resistance again, that force field, that dark black line. He presses into it, pushes past the pain, and finds himself in control.
He has…a body. He looks down. Sees hands and arms and legs and feet and a torso clad in blue scrubs. Feels the paper mask over his face and the heat of his own breath.
Not his own breath.
His control wavers. Something is fighting him. He’s trapped inside the other man, using him like a tool.
It feels wrong. It feels amazing.
No time to waste.
He picks up a scalpel. The doctor slits his own throat.
~*~
As before, he’s slammed violently out of the doctor’s body when the man begins to die. Three nurses scramble to stop the bleeding, but Joel only sees the girl on the table.
He’s gotta get her out.
“Ellie!”
He puts his whole ghostly being into it. She stirs, but doesn’t wake. Fuck.
“C’mon, kid, you gotta wake up.”
Nothing.
“Please, Ellie,” he murmurs, faint brush of a hand to her cheek. “Ellie. Please.”
The warmth of her skin against his fingers.
He can touch her.
If he can touch her–
He picks her up. Carries her like he used to carry a different little girl to bed.
To the terrified nurses, her body appears to float off the operating table. He leverages Ellie’s limp form to open the swinging door and they tumble into the hallway.
Shouting. Panic. Fireflies running at them.
Gunshots.
No. Not again. Not again not again not–
“Don’t fucking shoot!”
Marlene’s voice, frantic and frayed.
Wouldn’t wanna damage the fuckin’ cargo.
Joel runs.
~*~
He’s never been more thankful to be dead. Lacking a body’s demands for oxygen and blood and muscle, he doesn’t tire, doesn’t slow, doesn’t leave tracks.
He carries her until she starts to turn in his arms, eyes blinking and struggling to focus. He can’t open doors or carry her through walls.
Shit.
Barring a better option, he tucks them into an alley. No idea how far they’ve gone from the hospital, no idea how many are following, no idea how they’ll get out of the city.
She’s shaky on her legs. Weak. Cold.
But she’s alive.
~*~
It’s another long haul back to Jackson.
Nothin’ they can’t handle.
“What if they come for me?”
“Tommy can protect you.”
“But–what if–”
“You saw Jackson…you saw the walls. There’s a place for you. They’ll keep you safe.”
“...you really think so?”
“I know so.”
“Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I, like…shot you.”
What the hell is he supposed to say to that?
Not like she can take back the bullet. And if she could, well…she wouldn’t be alive right now.
Looking back, he’s not sure what he was doing could be called living, anyway.
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”
~*~
They’re almost to Jackson when he starts to fade.
It’s subtle. He feels it like a weakness, a breathlessness without breath. Feels himself growing less…solid. Like if he were to try to put a hand on her shoulder, it might pass through.
He doesn’t tell her. What would be the point? Not like he can control it.
But it worries him all the same.
“Joel! You coming?”
She’s excited. Cheeks flushed from the hike, eyes bright.
“Yep. Should be just over that ridge.”
~*~
He feels like an intruder in his brother’s home.
S’pose he is, in a way. A haunt. A spook.
Ellie’s leg is shaking, knee bouncing up and down. She’s chewing on her goddamned nails again. Gonna get an infection if she keeps that up.
He grabs her hand. The connection feels weak, but he can still hold on.
For now.
They’re waiting in the kitchen for Tommy.
“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” she hisses.
“Just tell him the truth.”
“You know what they do to fifteen-year-olds who have imaginary friends, right?”
“I ain’t imaginary.”
“Says you.”
Just for that, he pinches her. Not hard, just enough.
“Ow!”
“Who’re you talking to?”
Ellie jumps. Tommy, at the door, fresh as a fuckin’ daisy.
“I…I need to tell you something.”
~*~
“So he’s…right here?”
“Yep.”
“An’ you can see him?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look, kid–”
“I know, it sounds fucking crazy. But he’s here. He’s been with me the whole time. Since I–y’know.”
She mimes firing a gun. Tommy has that look on his face like he’s sucked on a lemon. Well, Joel probably would too, if he weren’t already dead.
Well, he’s pretty sure he can fix this, at least. He tells Ellie what to say.
“Joel says…her-man-eat-oh? Is that–is that like, code or something?”
Tommy’s Adam's apple bobs in his throat. “You, uh, you speak Spanish?”
Christ, his brother can be dense as a brick.
“No, I don’t fucking speak Spanish,” Ellie huffs. “Joel said I should call you that. And that…ugh, do I have to?”
She looks up at him, grimacing. He nods.
“So fucking gross,” she whispers. “He says…he says you have a birthmark on your ass. It’s shaped like a heart.”
Tommy’s face goes white as a sheet.
Huh, Joel’d been expecting beet red.
Who’s the ghost now, little brother?
“Fuck,” Tommy breathes, voice breaking. “I–I can’t–fuck. Joel–”
Ellie tells him the rest.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
Take care of her.
~*~
He lingers.
As though whatever twist of fate or chance or universal decree brought them together wants to make sure she has a place.
But for the first time since he died, he’s tired. The kind of deep, aching exhaustion that even decades of sleep can’t fix.
He’s still tethered to her. It takes more than he has to wander, so he doesn’t. He goes where she goes. To the stables, the cafeteria, the school.
She learns how to ride. She makes friends.
She holds his nephew.
Tommy makes a damn good father of two.
~*~
The first leaves are just starting to turn.
Ellie sketches in her journal on the porch swing, Joel at her side.
She puts down her pencil. Looks over at him.
“You’re flickering again.”
He knows. He can feel it, the world around him is a radio frequency tuning in and out.
“Sometimes it’s like…I look around and you’re not there,” she murmurs. “Then I blink, and you’re back.”
She leans into him, barely there, picking at her fingers. He plants a kiss on her forehead, imagines he can breathe her in.
“I’m scared…one of these times…”
The thought stays unfinished. The swing rocks gently beneath them.
“I know, baby. I know.”
~*~
She’s wrapped in a blanket, curled on her side, fighting sleep. Eyes fixed on him.
Like she knows he won’t be there come morning.
The pull is different this time. Gentler. He doesn’t fight it, doesn't have the strength.
He tries to wipe away her tears. He can’t, can’t make the connection last. The most he can do is stir the wispy hairs at her temple and then it takes all his effort. He settles for putting his hand over hers, the sensation tingling faintly like static electricity.
Tommy and Maria will protect her. She’ll be safe in Jackson, safe within the walls. She’ll have a home, a family, a life. The kind of love he never could have given when he was still breathing.
Because he had a job to do.
He’s so damn tired.
“Joel?”
“Yeah?”
Voice thick, eyes wet. “Where will you go?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Will you remember me?”
“Always, baby girl.”
It’s a promise.
Her sigh trails off in a yawn. “Can you stay? ‘Til I fall asleep?”
It takes no time.
Her eyes flutter shut, her breathing deepens.
He falls asleep holding her hand.
~*~
Early morning sun pouring through the windows, golden rays of pure light. Ellie is a glow beside him, so full of life it’s blinding. He has to look away.
Then a familiar voice crosses twenty-years of memory, calling him home.
Dad?
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midnightsnyx · 2 years ago
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what if i told you (i love you) part 1 - joel miller
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pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
summary: five years ago, pregnant and alone, you left boston after a fallout with joel but when he shows up in jackson, you have to deal with the aftermath. word count: 1.4k warnings: angst (loads), mentions of pregnancy, non-specified age gap, (please let me know if i missed something!) a/n: this is my first time writing joel so pls go gentle on me lol I am planning on making this a series if u guys like it! let me know :) i know joel is usually pegged as a girl dad which i love but i thought it would be fun to write a mini joel! this isn't edited so i apologize for all mistakes. also i am taking requests now so ask away! masterlist ask box what i write taglist signup
You hadn’t anticipated seeing him. When you left the Boston QZ five years ago after finding out you were pregnant, you never wanted to see Joel Miller’s face again. Not after you broke the news and he told you to get out - that he wanted you gone. Tess had told you to give him a few days to cool down and let the news sink in, so you did. You waited a couple days, which turned into a week and another and once a month passed, you realized you couldn’t wait around for Joel to get his head out of his ass so you packed up and left Boston. You had heard rumors of settlements out West and took the chance of going to one. It was a risky move, especially being pregnant, but raising a child in the QZ was impossible. Bringing a life into this world alone was cruel but if you could make it to one of the settlements, you thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And you did. After months of traveling and close calls, you made it to Jackson. You couldn’t believe how close to normal it was there. It felt like before the outbreak which felt impossible but somehow they did it. You made friends and had support when you finally delivered. 
Little Jack came into the world with the helping hands of Maria and your friend Avery. You named him after Jackson, the little community that welcomed you with open arms. He was absolutely perfect and as he grew, he looked more and more like Joel. It hurt you that Joel wasn’t here to see his son grow but he had made his decision the day he told you to leave. 
The life you built in Jackson was good enough. You taught at the small school in the morning and spent the rest of your day with Jack and your friends. Every so often you went on patrol but with Jack, you had to find someone to watch him. Avery offered to keep him for the afternoon while you went out with Maria and some others for a quick patrol. Someone thought they heard gunshots going off and your group was sent to check it out. You thought you would come across some raiders or maybe a couple stragglers but what you weren’t expecting was to find Joel Miller and some random kid. It didn’t surprise you that he was looking for Tommy and you watched for Maria’s reaction when he told her his name. 
In Jackson, Joel’s name wasn’t a popular one to those who heard it. Tommy had recounted the days that he, Joel, Tess and others had spent that still gave him nightmares and you didn’t have many good things that you shared about him. You kept the good things to yourself and only let yourself think about them on nights you were particularly lonely or sad. She hid her reaction better than you would have but you were a little surprised when she invited them back to town. As soon as you got back, you went straight to the stables to drop off your house before going to pick up Jack from Avery’s. You wanted to just go home but he fought you tooth and nail to go to the dining hall to see Hazel, an older woman in Jackson who was the first person to take you in when you first arrived. She treated you like a daughter and in turn, treated Jack as a grandson. 
When you got there, Hazel was delighted to see him and you couldn’t help but smile when Jack squealed and ran straight for her. Watching them, you felt a set of eyes on you and when you looked, they met Joel’s. As usual, his expression was impossible to read. He was sitting with the girl, Ellie you’d briefly heard, along with Tommy and Maria. 
“Some new folks, huh?” Hazel asked, breaking you out of your daze. She knew the story about Joel so you were hesitant to tell her who they were but she would find out eventually.
“Yeah, Tommy’s older brother and the girl is Ellie,” you told her, “apparently they traveled all the way from Boston.” 
You watched as the realiztion slowly dawned on her face, hiding an amused smile when she said, “where’s my shotgun?” 
“It’s fine,” you tried to reassure her, “I don’t think they’re staying.” 
She huffed, “I should’ve poisened that food.”
You shook you head, taking Jack when he reached out to you. He was getting sleepy, resting his head on your shoulder and babbling nonsense. You could still feel Joel’s gaze, so you told Hazel you would see her tomorrow and started walking out when you heard your name called.
Tommy. 
You weren’t sure what his plan was, he knew your past with Joel so you took your time walking over to where the four individuals were seated. Maria was giving Tommy a dark look and you knew she didn’t agree with his interfering. 
“Hey,” you said lightly, trying to ignore Joel’s eyes that were now focused on Jack. Ellie was looking between you and Joel and you could almost see the wheels turning in her brain. 
“I was wondering if you had time to take Ellie to the house next to yours and let her have a shower? Maybe find some new clothes?” Tommy asked and held his hand up when Joel started to argue. 
“Sure,” you said, motioning for her to follow you. She gave Joel one look before following you out the door. It was cold and you hugged Jack, who was now asleep, tighter to you. She was silent until you were a couple minutes away from the house, whistling. 
“So, I take it you and Joel know each other?” She questioned, walking faster to keep up with you. You wanted to drop this kid off before she accidentally got answers out of you. She continued pestering you after you just shrugged and you wondered how Joel, of all people, managed to make it from Boston with the girl. She seemed sweet enough but lord, she was chatty. 
“What’s his name?” She asked, pointing to the sleeping boy in your arms as if there was another child around.
“Jack,” you told her and she smiled.
“Like, Jackson?” 
“Nice catch,” you praised and she grinned. 
You showed her to the shower, before searching for some clean clothes. It took a few trades but you managed to get her some fresh clothes and a new jacket. When you returned to the house, you ran into the one person you were hoping to avoid. He froze when you walked in the front door, clothing in hand and Jack still on your hip. Your back was aching from carrying him but he was unusually clingy. His eyes locked on Joel, head tilting slightly before reaching out for the older man, surprising the two of you. Joel stood frozen even as Jack reached for him, whining slightly. 
It was Ellie who broke the awkward silence, walking down the stairs in the fluffy robe you left for her. “You gonna take the kid, or what? He’s not contagious.” 
You were hesitant to let Jack go but after he let out an angry wail, you put him down and watched as he walked over to Joel and reached for him, making a grabby motion with his tiny fists, the universal pick me up signal from a child. The man awkwardly picked him up and you immediately saw the similarities between the two. You always thought he looked like Joel but looking at the two of them together, a paternity test wouldn’t be needed.
“Woah,” Ellie said, taking Jack’s hand when he reached towards her, “he looks just like you.” 
You ignored the insinuating tone in her words, opting to watch the interaction between the two boys. Joel’s sole attention was now on the toddler in his arms. His whole body softened when Jack rested his head on his chest and you suddenly felt a rush of emotions. Shoving the clothes in Ellie’s arms, you took Jack from Joel and fled out the door, ignoing both voices calling out to you. You didn’t stop running until you were in your own house and rushed to put Jack to bed before going to your own room. Not bothering to change, you crawled under the covers and tried to hold back the sobs threatening to escape you. 
You had spent the last five years trying to get over the heartbreak Joel Miller caused you and suddenly the man himself showed up and brought back evey single feeling you had for him.
And you hated him for it.
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thelovelylolly · 1 year ago
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Let The Light In
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Summary: 'Cause I love, to love, to love, to love you. I hate to hate, to hate, to hate you... Warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death and throwing up, reader is described as smaller than joel, hurt/kinda no comfort, let me know if i missed anything :) Word Count: 1.3k Notes: OOOOOOOOO LET THE LIGHT INNNNNNNNN (i wrote this after a very sleep deprived and long week)
You loved Joel Miller, so much so you would follow him across the country to help him get a little girl to some Fireflies. You and Joel met in the Boston QZ and both of you fell for each other, you more than him. You knew he didn't feel as strongly as you or showed his emotions like you did, but you knew he loved you and that was enough.
Following Joel across the country led to you and him settling down in Jackson after the Fireflies let Ellie go, but you didn't believe Joel when he told that to her. You knew the Fireflies wouldn't let go of someone who was immune that easily. You wanted to believe Joel, you really did because that meant Ellie got to live.
But you knew he was lying about something.
That little seed of doubt was planted and only grew with time. You didn't tell Joel, you let it fester in your head over the course of a few months. Everything was good in Jackson, why would you ruin it? You had Joel and Ellie, and all of you had some stability in your lives now. You didn't want to ruin it with your doubt, but you knew it was going to come up some day.
Or night.
You were laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. The pale blue moonlight came in through the windows, offering some light in the otherwise dark room. Joel was dozing off with his arms around your waist. His head was on your chest and your hand was in his hair, just like every night. But you couldn't sleep.
"Joel?" You whispered quietly.
He didn't answer.
"Joel?" This time, you said it a bit louder.
"Hm?" He hummed in reply.
"What happened at the hospital in Salt Lake?"
It was seemingly an innocent question to you, but Joel tensed up. His eyes opened and you felt him pull away from you. He turned around so his back was facing you.
"You already know what happened, sweetheart. Now, go to sleep," he answered.
"No, what really happened there, Joel?" You pressed for an answer, sitting up to look over at him. "I don't think the Fireflies would just give up Ellie like that."
He let out an annoyed sigh. "Do we really have to talk about this right now?"
"Yes, because it's been eating at me since we left the hospital that day," you said. "Just tell me, please."
He turned around to look at you, laying on his back and tilting his head up to meet your gaze. You could tell he was still hesitant.
"Please," you begged quietly.
"You don't want to know."
"I wouldn't be bringing it up if I didn't."
He sighed once again, his gaze turning to the ceiling. "You heard Marlene. The procedure to get a cure would've killed Ellie, and I wasn't going to lose another kid. I didn't know what was going to happen, so that's why I sent you to find a car after knocking out the guys in the stairwell. When I went back up to get her, I knew I was going to kill anyone in my way-"
"Joel-"
"So I killed them all, even the doctor."
Your mouth hung open as a shaky breath escaped you. You quickly cupped your hand over your mouth, muffling your, "oh my god."
You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, hunching over yourself. "Oh my god!"
Even if you didn't pull the trigger, you felt guilty. You didn't try to stop Joel or go with him, you followed his directions blindly. Maybe you could've stopped him and lives would've been spared, but now there was blood on his hands and some of it was on yours, too, for not trying to stop him. Could you have stopped him? Did he love you enough to listen to you if you begged him not to kill the Fireflies? You knew Joel could be ruthless and violent, but to this extent?
You thought of all the bodies he left behind, including Marlene's, and a wave of nausea hit you. You raced to your bathroom just in time to empty anything in your stomach into the toilet. You flushed it as you caught your breath, then rinsed your mouth out in the sink.
Joel had gotten of bed and was standing in the doorway, only his sleep pants on.
You gripped the edge of the counter and didn't look at him. "Have you told Ellie the truth? Or are you going to keep lying to her?"
He was quiet for a few moments before answering. "I haven't, but-"
"Christ, Joel. That's not for you to decide!" You yelled, spinning around to face him.
"I saved her! She was going to die!"
"She was fully prepared to give her life up for the cure because that's what she thought her life was for! You shouldn't have stopped her, it was her decision! You shouldn't have lied to her about what happened, either."
You both fell quiet. The air was tense around you two as you glared at him, then pushed past him to go back to bed. He quickly followed you and grabbed your wrist, turning you around to face him.
"Honey-"
"How do you know you didn't put us all in danger?" You quickly cut him off with another question, not wanting to hear his excuse or whatever he was going to say. "You murdered Fireflies, you murdered their leader. How do you know they aren't going to come for us?"
"You know I wouldn't let that happen-"
"But you gave them a reason to come after us. What were you thinking-"
"I was protecting Ellie!" Joel yelled, cutting you off this time. "I was protecting you! You don't get to argue with me about what I've done because you don't understand any of it!"
You looked at him in the moonlight, your eyes wide and glossed over with tears. For the first time since you met him, you were scared of Joel. You knew what he was capable of, but you never thought he would do this. And you never thought he would yell at you like this.
You took a shaky breath, tearing your gaze away from him so he wouldn't see the tears in your eyes. "I'm going to sleep downstairs tonight-"
"Sweetheart, I-I'm sorry-"
"Please, Joel. I need...I need some space."
Joel watched as you grabbed your pillow and a blanket from the bed. You started towards the door and were about to grab the doorknob when-
"I love you."
You froze at those three words. You turned around to look a him, a desperate look on his face. He never said those words, even when you had let them slip a few times here and there. You wished he would've said it, but you had come to terms that he was never going to say it to you.
Yet, he here he was, saying it as a last resort to make you stay.
Look at us, you and I, back at it again...
But it wasn't going to work.
"...I'm sorry, Joel, but it's too late for that."
With that, you opened the bedroom door and left. The door clicked shut behind you and Joel listened to the wood creaking as you went downstairs. Slowly, he made he was back over to his side of the bed and laid down.
The pale blue moonlight illuminated the room just enough for him to notice the wrinkled sheets where you were laying next to him minutes ago, before your relationship fell apart right before his eyes.
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cowgurrrl · 1 year ago
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Please, Let Me Go
Summary: “In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness.” - Tennessee Williams [1.1k]
Author’s note: This one goes out to @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel who loves Adam as much as I do 🫶
Warnings: Pre-Joel, probably incorrect wound care, PTSD symptoms, mentions of nightmares, “maybe in another life, we’d be happy”
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2006
“You gotta be more careful,” Adam says as he wraps your forearm in gauze.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“Did I say it was?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at you, and you sigh. You cut yourself on barbed wire coming back into the QZ after a run, and Adam caught the blood on your jacket before you could hide it. He sat you down at the kitchen table with the first aid kit and gentle hands. The yellow kitchen light shines against his messy brown hair and the square, taped-together glasses on his nose. “FEDRA’s getting antsy. That’s why the barbed wire went up. I just want you to know what’s up.”
“I know.” You say, and a ghost of a smile floats over his lips.
“Then, don’t shoot the messenger.” He teases. You roll your eyes, and he kisses the clean bandage covering your stitches to make it up to you. You grab his hand and run your thumb over the unset fracture in his metacarpal bones that only you can still identify. He smiles and scoots his chair closer to you to fully relish the sudden attention.
“Jane asleep?” You whisper, and he nods.
“Told her you’d tuck her in before we went to bed.”
“Good.” You say, copying his smile, as you lean in to kiss him. It’s lazy and the most unromantic of situations, blood-stained towels lingering on the table, but neither of you cares. You squeeze his hand and pull away to kiss his cheek. “What story d’you guys read tonight?”
“Cinderella,” he says, and you hum. There aren’t a ton of perks to smuggling, but sometimes you do get cool things like the battered old copy of fairy tales. Jane loves hearing them as much as Adam loves reading them. He says it reminds him of when he did story time with his kindergarteners. “She asked if that’s how we met.”
“At a ball?”
“Oh, yeah. She’s convinced I found your glass slipper, and that’s why I wait up for you when you go out without me,” he says. “To make sure you’ve got all your shoes or something.”
“God, I love her so much.” You groan from the cuteness, and he chuckles.
“She’s a good one.” He says.
“I guess, one day, we’re gonna have to tell her how we actually came to be.”
“Tell her all about how you rejected me after our first date.”
“I didn’t reject you. I said it could be confusing for her.”
“And I said kids understand more than we give them credit for.”
“You’re such a teacher.”
“You love it.” He says, and you take a deep breath. Your hand slips in his momentarily, but he doesn’t let you get far. “What?” He asks quietly, like he’s scared of you getting too distant.
“Do you remember your first impression of me?” You ask, and he smiles.
“Of course I do. I remember thinking you were beautiful and strong and smart. ‘S why I asked you out in the first place.”
“And after the Outbreak? What’d you think of me then?” You ask, a little hesitant, and he nods.
“You really wanna know my first thought when I saw you and Jane walk into the shelter that day?” He asks, and you nod. “I thought there might still be some good left in the world if you two were in it. And you don’t have to believe that. I know you probably won’t, but it’s true.” You try to take his words at face value, but you can’t. You think it might always be like this. You don’t know if there is a way to change it. “Do I get to know what you thought of me? Before and after?”
“I thought you were sweet and charming. And I remember thinking you were someone I wanted in my life just because of how you carried yourself. I was really disappointed when you were Jane’s teacher and not because I thought you were a bad teacher.” You say.
“And after?”
“I think… I remember how shocked I was that you were even alive. And I wanted to ask if you were okay and how you’d made it to the QZ, but I was so focused on Jane. I still am,” you say. “I’m sorry. I should’ve checked on you.”
“I probably wouldn’t have even told you what happened. I wasn’t ready.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”
“You don’t have to be,” he squeezes your hand. “I just want you to know you’re not alone. We all had to do bad things to stay alive.” You shake your head and look down at your feet to avoid his eyes. He doesn’t flinch. He’s gotten good at dealing with your emotions and weathering them with you. You just wish you could find the words to talk about them. “You’re not alone. We can talk whenever you’re ready, and if you’re not, that’s okay.” He says again.
“I’m trying. I just-“
“I know, I know. I know you’re trying. I’m not asking for anything else, okay?” He asks, and you nod. “I just need you to try with me.”
“Okay.” You whisper, and he kisses you again.
“I do wish we would’ve gotten to go on more dates before everything. Real dates. Not just drops or stitching you up when something happens.” He changes the subject, and you’re thankful he doesn’t push any further. He can see you’re not ready. He can see how grateful you are.
“What would we have done?” You ask.
“Everything. Fancy dinners, dancing, trips.” His smile is so genuine you can’t stop yours from forming.
“Trips?” You ask, raising your eyebrows, and he nods.
“Somewhere with a beach and not the shitty beaches near here. I would’ve taken you to a nice beach where Jane could dig in the sand, and you could read whatever book you wanted, and I’d make us a picnic and pack mule all our shit in from the car.” He says in a dreamy voice. He knew you had a kid when you went on your first date, but you never would’ve thought he imagined a life with the three of you.
“Sounds nice.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Maybe in the next life.”
“We still have this one. We can make those things happen,” you say without thinking, and he stares at you. “I can make them happen. I know my way around. All we’d have to do is go west. Can’t be that hard, right?” You feel him slipping for a moment and hold his hand harder to keep him close. He smiles a little sadly and squeezes you back.
“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he says. “We’ll have dreams about the ocean and sunshine and sand castles. No nightmares tonight, okay?” You nod and let him lead you to bed, leaving everything unspoken between you at the table.
The nightmares come as usual, but there’s a promise of a day when they don’t invade your psyche like they do now. A promise of a day with sunshine and water and sandcastles. A promise of more time.
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j-eryewrites · 10 months ago
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Hellooo, will you continue writing for A Sinner's Redemption
I am! Don't you worry. Now that my health has improved and my university is out for the summer, I finally have the time and motivation to write again. Just to prove my words, here is a snippet from the next chapter (which I hope will be finished tmr)
꧁___________꧂ 
Piper bit her lip, and her eyes fell on Ellie's sleeping figure. "All I've ever…Have you ever thought you were cursed?" Joel shook his head. "I think I'm cursed. Actually, I know I am," Piper scoffed.
"Cursed?" Joel questioned.
"To kill." Piper pulled her arm away from Ellie and stared at her shaking hands. In the light of the fire they only grew more red; A dark red that seemed to seep underneath her skin. She shuddered. "It's all I was used for in the QZ. It's all I've known." She couldn't bare to look at her hands any longer, instead resorted shoving them under her legs. "I'm cursed to kill when all I want is to save…but I can't." her voice caught in her throat. "I can only save Ellie. She's all that matters. So, as long as I can do that, I'll be fine."
"Kid," Joel paused. "Piper." The sound of her name drew her attention. "You are more than a sister. You can want something for yourself that is outside of Ellie."
Piper scoffed. "Says you. You've been on and on about Tommy. What about you then? What is your dream outside of Tommy?"
"I-" Joel began to refute Piper's words, but something stopped him. She was right. He'd started this whole thing for Tommy: picked up the girls, lost Tess, danced with death, saw the impossible, and all for someone who could be dead. Piper and him were one in the same. As long as their family was safe and happy, so would they be. But as Joel really pondered her question, the dream of the farm came back into mind. The farm with the quiet sheep, the peaceful life. Except now this dream had room for more, yet Joel wasn't sure if there was room for his girls in the first place.  
"It's getting late," Joel remarked, standing up again to patrol. This time, Piper didn't refuse sleep. Instead, she let the silence close in on her as the warmth of the fire cascaded over her body. The only sign of life was the slow rise and fall of her chest, the rhythm to which Joel stepped as he guarded his girls from the looming horrors of the night.
꧁___________꧂ 
Please comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list for future updates (of if I missed you).
Tag list:
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@mimi-luvzyu
@d4rno
@lizlil 
@winterschildren17
@bartokthealbinobat
@sunsumonner 
@lovelyygirl8
@homeslices
@guacala 
@emsownuniverse
@thetiredtoad0-0
@galacticstxrdust 
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꧁___________꧂ 
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bubble-tea-blossom · 2 years ago
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The Soldier and the Smuggler
Part III: Interlude - The Memory
WC: 2.9k
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Interlude between chapters told from Joel’s POV
Rating/Warnings: 18+ only. Please note this chapter includes an attempted SA. Stay safe <3
Previous chapter
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Night hasn’t nearly fallen yet. The day has cooled off, and the sky is grey with pink clouds dotting the skyline. It’s almost time to go.
Joel looks over at the girl tucked in the corner, hands bound with synthetic rope in her lap, eyes closed as she pretends to sleep. Not completely, her breathing has slowed as she rests with her eyes closed, but Joel is aware that she maintains complete awareness of her surroundings. It’s a skill you learn quickly as a soldier.
Dumb kid. He thinks. Who could she have pissed off to get herself in this situation.
This situation. Joel scoffs. This situation as in him kidnapping her. Joel’s been trying to convince himself that he doesn’t feel guilty the moment she stepped out of the car. It’s bothering him, it’s not like he hasn’t kidnapped people before. But they were, well, about as far from innocent as he is. Joel is finding it hard to believe you’re anything other than just an unfortunate soul that was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. What the Fireflies would want with a low-ranking soldier that can’t seem to keep her mouth shut, is beyond him.
Whatever. He thinks and snaps his head away from you, looking instead at the ceiling. It’s not his business. Joel hasn’t cared about someone’s moral goodness before he hurts them since…since outbreak day. He learned that day innocence does nothing to keep you safe, so why should he care. He needs to get paid if he wants to survive, and therefore he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He can’t care. That’s how he survives. Just survive.
Joel’s eyes close and he feels his heart rate lower as his body slows down. In this vulnerable state, his mind likes to bring up deeply hidden memories in this inbetween place, where he’s not dreaming, but he’s not completely conscious. He’s not in enough control to banish the memories before they can take flight.
Night memories, Joel calls them in his head.
Tonight’s is an odd one. One he hadn’t let himself think about in years. Joel doesn’t remember how long it was. It happened a long time ago. The fact that it was pitch black out doesn’t help his memory.
Back in the QZ, Joel stood in the shadows of the tiled hallway in the pitch black, abandoned mall. He was waiting for a pick up. The bag of illegal guns is still with him an hour past their allotted pick up time and now he’s getting pissed off. That balding weasel should know better than to keep him waiting. But Joel’s desperate, and so he waits there, taken for a fool because he has no other option.
If Joel had any dignity, he would have left a long time ago. The abandoned mall was no place he desired to linger. People worse than him use it as a deal spot, and Joel has no intention of bumping into any of them.
And then some idiot came along.
It’s made obvious that it’s not his contact by the footsteps; slow, careful, and light. So Joel remains in the heavy cover of darkness in his little hallway in between stores. Waiting, watching.
He can barely see them as they pass by, unaware of him.
Since it wasn’t his intended drop off, Joel waits in silence for them to keep moving. But they don’t. He listens to them move to the broken down kiosk in the center, just out of his sight. Joel felt anger stir. Dumb kid, because it had to be a kid, everyone else knew not to come in here. This mall held only nefarious intent and the people that visited were even worse.
But then they step into the center kiosk in the main hallway, light from the moon barely making its way to the figure, Joel feels another type of rage fill his chest. A paternal type he hadn’t felt in years at the sight of a young woman in this damn place. She was by herself and by the looks of her she didn’t seem the type to make drug deals in the dark, so what the hell was she doing here. Pissed off already, and now seeing this makes Joel almost step out into the light, just to yell at her. Yell at her to go home. Go back to her parents, who should be looking after her.
But he never does because he hears others approaching from the other end. The kid must hear it too, because she stands up, half in the shadows, half in the light where she’s forcing herself to be seen, despite all her instincts screaming at her to hide.
“Randy?”
The single word out of her mouth sounds through the empty hall, and Joel cringes at the sound. She sounds young, scared, obviously trying to hide her fear. Joel feels lightheaded as he’s ripped to an alternate universe where he died, and Sarah lived. His baby girl in the place of this stupid, brave kid, obviously desperate for something. Joel knew Randy, and after their first deal, Joel refused to work with him anymore.
There’s too many of them, Joel can tell right away. Whatever this kid is dealing is not anything more than a one person pick up.
“You came alone?”
Joel recognized the voice of Randy but he can’t see anyone from his hidden spot, so instead he listens. Hoping for her sake everything goes as planned. Joel hears nothing in response, only Randy’s “Good girl.” that makes Joel’s lip curl in disgust.
“Here. 100 ration cards.” The girl says, fear creeping into her voice as the sounds of Randy and whoever he brought keep coming closer. The sound of a bundle of papers hitting the ground echoes in the mall.
“I held up my end. Where’s the insulin?” She demands, authority in her voice that wasn’t there a few seconds ago. Joel’s interrogated enough people to know some sound the bravest when they’re the most terrified.
Still there’s no answer. Only the slow steps of Randy, before he hears her say “That’s close enough.”
“Oh, we’ve got a tough girl on our hands, gentlemen.” Randy’s snide comment rings through the air, with no sense of their approach ceasing. There’s a palpable drop in the air as everyone in the mall knows what’s about to happen, a sick bile taste even the unknown listener feels.
“You have no insulin, do you?” Joel can hear the slightest tremble in her voice as she speaks, before he hears Randy’s condescending tone overpower the echoes of her voice as he laughs at her.
“Mm, no. And if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t sell it for 100 ration cards. People are willing to die for insulin these days. What are you willing to do?” Randy’s words are so low, Joel can barely hear them and he finds himself straining to hear what’s being said after; he doesn’t like where this conversation is going. But he can’t hear anything after that.
Joel’s very aware he could just walk away, none of them know he’s there, he could leave undisturbed. Go back home, find another buyer since his is obviously not coming. Joel’s never been a hero, in fact he’s actively avoided the title. This kid got herself into this mess, she can get herself out on her own. Joel’s done the same over the years, and he’s fine.
Fine. Ha, what a joke. Joel’s about as far away from fine as it gets.
And then she yells, a cry of fear that’s cracked in half when the air is pushed from her lungs. Boots scuff against the tiles, and there’s a sharp cry of pain followed by the sound of fabric being torn.
That’s when Joel steps into the light of the main hallway, sawed-off shotgun in his calloused hands. He doesn’t have to walk far, and he doesn’t even have to walk that quiet either with everyone preoccupied. Joel pumps the shotgun and aims it at whatever idiot’s head that has his back turned and fires it without warning. The headless body slumps to the ground, revealing what he’d been too engrossed in to keep watch.
Randy pinning the kid bent over the old customer service desk in the middle of the hallway, his other goon on the other side holding her hands against the table above her head, leaving her unable to do much other than strain in fear.
With the low visibility, Joel can’t see Randy’s expression that well, but the ugly bastard stays right where he is, pressed against the girl’s bare backside.
Joel pumps the shotgun again, “Step away from the girl.”
Randy just looks at him, slowly pulling his hand up from where it was hidden underneath the girl. He deliberately gropes in between her legs as he pulls his hand free. But he makes no move to step away, he stays right where he was, staring at Joel as he licks his hand clean. Joel feels his stomach burn in disgust at the move, but he remains still, shotgun pointed at Randy’s face.
“Now why would I do that.” Randy speaks finally, sounding almost bored. “We have you two to one.”
“I ain’t the one caught with my pants down.” Joel snarls. “Step away or I’ll shoot the both of you.”
Randy just stares at him. “If you shoot me, Miller,” he hisses the name, telling Joel he knows exactly who he is and that payback will be in his future, “You might hit her.”
While Joel and Randy stare at each other through the shadows, his man takes that moment to release the girl’s arms and reach for his gun at his side. Not quick enough because Joel just turns and fires at his chest, knocking him backward a few feet from the force. Randy also drops for his gun that he place on the table at the same moment, but Joel pumps his shotgun and fires a round straight through his forehead.
The two bodies slump to the ground nearly at the same moment, once Joel is sure Randy is dead, he takes quick strides over the the man squirming on the ground in his intestinal blood. The man doesn’t even get a word in to beg for his life before Joel empties the barrel in his skull. It’s a quicker death than he deserves, but he did so for the sake of their victim, so she doesn’t have to listen to the dying sounds of the the men who tried to rape her.
Joel looks up at the spot she had been forced over the table, and sees nothing. He quickly walks to the other side of the kiosk, and finds her on the ground, struggling to pull her pants up from how hard her hands shake. His first instinct is to try and help, but he stops himself, figuring his help would be unwanted.
She keeps her head down, eyes away from him, and once pants are rebuttoned, she stands up halfway and starts walking away from him without a word. Joel follows silently, hearing her swallowed sobs but not knowing what to say, as she clears the pool of blood from the dead bodies on the floor.
Joel watches in concern as the sobs she’s not allowing through start shaking her body, and all of sudden she’s clutching the cool wall desperately trying to stay on her feet. Joel finally steps closer and takes her hand, feeling a stake in his gut when she lets out a muffled cry and tries to flinch away from him but against the wall there’s nowhere to go.
Joel shushes her gently, using his calmest, least threatening voice possible, “It’s alright, ‘mnot gonna hurtcha.”
She makes no answer, still refusing to look at him, she just shudders in fear, trembling against the wall, so Joel tries to lead her to sit down.
“I think you should sit down, kid.” He urges, and he helps her slide down against the wall. Once she’s sitting on her own, he gives her her space again, taking a few steps away from her. He avoids his gaze to try and give her privacy as she gets a hold of herself.
“You hurt?” He asks into the night.
“No.” She answers in the smallest voice Joel has ever heard.
Joel turns to the girl sitting slumped over on the floor. Too many emotions rise up in his stomach, they’re like a giant rat’s nest making them untangleable to even identify one properly. So instead he blankets them all with a healthy dose of anger.
He shakes his head, “What were you thinking, dealing with somebody like that. By yourself.”
The girl just shrugs, face still hidden. Joel knows he should quit, just lead her out of the mall and send her on her way home. But he’s having a hard time letting go.
“Do you even have a weapon on you?” He continues, his accent coming out a lot more pronounced as he gets more heated.
The girl lets out a sniggered laugh through her tears, and reaches into her boot with a shaking hand to pull out a butterfly knife.
“Did a fat load of use.” She scoffs at herself.
“Maybe have it in a more accessible place next time.” He bites back.
She tries to snark back but her voice is too shaky to hold any venom, “I thought they’d pat me down before or something, I was trying,” she gets cut off when she has to fight like hell to keep her sob in her chest. Eventually she continues, “to keep it hidden.”
Joel looks at the girl, sitting in the dark. Her head hung just enough to keep her face hidden, but also be able to watch Joel as he moves around, keeping wary of this angry stranger that’s taking out a lot of shit on her that’s entirely not her fault. He gives himself a mental shake, pinching the bridge of his nose as he feels a headache coming on.
“It’s uh,” he tries again, all the ferocity has left his body, his blood chilling from the act of killing and now he’s left with sad reality again. Joel finds it easier being angry, than being sad.
“It’s not your fault.” He finally says. Cause it’s true. The girl makes no sound or move in response. She just sits there, trying to swallow her tears. With a tired exhale, Joel sits down across from her, back against the kiosk, giving her space. Apparently not enough space, because as he slowly bends his knees to bring his weight down, she lights up.
“What’re you doing?” She demands, fear in her voice again.
“Waiting til you’re ready to go.” He says, taking no offense to her reaction. Joel can feel her eyes on him as he sits down on his tired ass, but he keeps his eyes to himself. He has a feeling making eye contact, even through the dark would only frighten her even more.
“You the one that needs the insulin?” Joel asks after a while of sitting in the dark with the stranger.
The girl shakes her head once.
After a moment, Joel responds, “Whoever it is that needs it, would want you to be alive more.”
The girl finally tilts her head up, eyes to the ceiling as she takes a shaky inhale. She makes no indication of responding. When Joel flicks his eyes over at her, the moon shining through the upper story window catches her upturned face. It turns the tears sliding down her cheek silver. Joel flicks his eyes away.
He sits there for a long time, the two of them in silence, the only thing he hears are the sounds of their breathing, the occasional creak of metal inside the mall, and the wind against the windows above. He has no real time estimate of how long he sat there because the next thing he remembers is waking up to the morning rays of light filtering through the mall, illuminating the empty floor across from him. Joel remembers seeing no trace of the girl, the only proof that he hadn’t dreamed the whole thing were the three stiff bodies a couple of yards away. Joel stood up, feeling a creak in his right knee as he stands upright, the added height bringing nothing new. The girl was just gone.
Joel never saw that girl again, even when he returned to the mall the next night, insulin in his bag, hoping she’d return for some reason and he could do something good for once. Hoping she wouldn’t ask where he’d gotten it from, or if she did hoping she wouldn’t care a couple of more people were dead because of it. But she didn’t show, and he waited there for hours, the reek of the still undiscovered bodies filling the mall. Eventually he accepted that the likelihood she’d come back to the spot where she was assaulted was pretty much non existent. He left around one in the morning, and sold the insulin the next day for the pills he’d been after since the start. He wishes he could say he never thought about her again, there was nothing special about what happened to her unfortunately, bad things happened to people all the time, especially if you were a woman. But throughout the years, she’d pop into his head, and he’d wonder if she ever got the insulin she needed. If she was still alive, if she was still in Boston, if she’s kept herself safe after the incident that brought them together.
But the years wore on, and Joel hadn’t thought about her in a long time. He didn’t know her name, not even her face. And she became a buried memory alongside many others.
Next part
A/N: Sorry for the fricking long ass wait! I actually never mentally abandoned this series, I just have been struggling finding time to write shit down. But oh boy, do I have things planned now...this is definitely going to be a way longer story than I initially planned, plot has a way of creeping up behind me. This is not my most popular story either lol, so any comments at all that anyone is enjoying it really helps motivate me that people want to keep reading. As always, thanks for reading! :)
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xtolovers · 4 years ago
Text
The Best of Us
The Last of Us Joel/OC Rating:M
AO3
Joel and Ellie nearly die on their way back to Jackson,  Wyoming. Traumatized, tired and with a tentative new bond between  them, they move forward into a new, very different life. Luckily there  are new friends to be found that are not easily deterred by their wounds  and flaws. And there is a woman who likes to laugh, to get into other people’s business and help and heal were she can. Maybe she can help heal their bond. Maybe she can move more. It has been long since either of them had a home.    
Diligently she blocked the doors by hooking a chair through the handles. Liv tied Apollo up in the entryway where he couldn't make as big of a mess. The added benefit was that he'd hear anyone approaching outside and warn her, and this way he was close enough to the door should they need to make a hasty escape. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It was unlikely that something was going to happen, but they were in a pretty exposed position, and she the only healthy person. It made her feel uneasy.
No helping it. Gotta get us through this. You got this.
And she really wasn't alone . Liv knew that most of Tommy's skills, he'd learned from Joel. As long as she could keep him conscious, he'd be able to fend off attackers. She wasn't really worried that he was going to attack her himself— she was his only chance of saving the girl, and getting them to Tommy. Besides, while she wasn't the best fighter in Jackson, she could handle herself. Maybe she couldn't win against him in his prime, but he was weak, tired, starving, and his ankle was cut open pretty badly. She'd be able to take him, if necessary.
Joel was still working on the first sandwich when she returned to him, and Liv was pleased to see he'd listened to her.
"How are you feeling?", she asked as she handed him Jesse's bedroll and blanket. He cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back.
"Better."
Not a man of many words, huh.
" That's what I like to hear." She grabbed two cups from the bar, filled them with hot water and put some mint in. She was glad she'd taken her stash of herbs with her. Sure, it was the beginning of May, and if it came down to it, she'd be able to find most she'd need outside, but she had learned the hard way that it was better to be prepared. "Here. Drink that; it'll help settle your stomach."
"Thank you." He accepted the cup before he looked at the girl, brow furrowed. " How's it looking? And no sugarcoating, please."
Liv followed his gaze and ran her hands through her hair with a sigh, tightening her ponytail.
"Well, there is no pus visible on the outside, which means at least outwardly, it's healing well. But you see that swelling around it? Means it's infected and filled inside. Not uncommon if there's dirt in the wound."
"I tried cleanin' it with our last water, but it kept raining." Joel's voice was raspy, but no longer from disuse. The guilt was plain on his face.
Liv shook her head slowly, her voice sympathetic. "Not much you could've done about it given the circumstances. Honestly, considering, this really is the best case scenario," she sighed and rolled up her sleeves. "I'll still have to cut it open to get the pus out and clean it, otherwise she might get really sick. But once it's clean, I've got iodine here and we have some antibiotics back in Jackson… I won't make promises, but I think she'll be fine."
"Can I help?"
Liv shook her head with a smile." You just keep eating. I should be fine. Honestly, you probably shouldn't even watch. Maybe even move away a foot or so, this'll reek." She looked over to him, and almost laughed as a stubborn look crossed his face, almost a little insulted.
Just like Tommy. Stubborn fools.
"I'll be fine."
"Suit yourself," she answered with a shrug. " But please try and keep the food down, for you sake and mine. We don't have much to spare and I have neither time nor the will to clean up right now."
Joel only scoffed as an answer, so Liv let him be and got up to ready everything. She took the mixture with the bandages off of the fire so they could cool down, then she poured some hot water into the basin Eugene had readied and washed her hands in it once it was sufficiently warm. She soaked the rag in it and wrung it out, before turning to Ellie. By force of habit she started talking to her, even though she was unconscious, as she deftly ripped off the already cut sleeve.
"Alright, let's get you cleaned up."
Next to her she felt Joel stiffen as she grabbed Ellie's wrist and lifted her arm to clean it.
"Sorry, the shirt was already ruined, we'll get her something— What…?" Her fingers had caught on ridges on Ellie's inner arm, and she'd turned it to inspect them. Liv froze, her question caught in her throat. She stared down at the upturned arm, her thoughts racing as her stomach dropped. Immediately she saw in her mind the half-submerged corpse of a runner she'd spotted in the ditch.
It was days old. It's too long. She'd have turned by now. But that's a bite.
Joel rose along with the hairs on her neck. " She's not infected, I swear." His voice was hard and choked, and the way he said it, the tone of defense and wariness, didn't help at all.
She didn't look at him, instead Liv kept her eyes on the crescent shaped scar. Her eyes wandered over the silvery-white ridges and knots, the discoloration and cysts, the teeth marks clearly visible. She took a deep breath to calm herself, as Joel gave voice to her thoughts.
"Look at the scar: it's old. She ain't infected, I swear. If the runner had bitten her, she'd've turned by now, and you know it." He swallowed hard and leaned forward slowly, placing his hand gently and slowly on her arm. "Careful." Liv looked down to see that her fingers were digging into Ellie's skin, her knuckles as white as his on her arm. For the fraction of a second they met eyes, and what Liv saw equally calmed and worried her. He was right; Ellie was not infected, her gut had told her so after the first shock, too. But she knew that she was right too: He wouldn't stop at anything to protect this girl. With a swallow, she nodded and let go of her arm.
"Yeah, I can see that. I'm sorry."
Joel released her arm and leaned back, nodding. "I get it." He cleared his throat, occupying himself with his cup. "She uh— Apparently she was bitten back two years ago or so in a struggle— bitten by a human, I mean. Got infected and all, that's why it looks like that. Snuck out of the QZ and crossed some wrong people."
Liv studied him for a moment, then the scar. As far as she could see there was no fungal growth anywhere, so his story might check out as well, and to contemplate the other option was too much for her right now. She decided to do what had always served her best; focus on the problem before her that she could solve. For anything else, she was too tired, to terrified, too needed right now. Ellie showed no signs of turning, so the most important part was true. She nodded, more to herself then to him, and set to work with the cloth, cleaning the arm of dirt.
"So you haven't been together that long?"
"Uh, no. I was… tasked to get her somewhere, as a favor to someone. Took us damn near a year. When we got there, nobody was left there… so we came back here together." She felt him look at her, but she kept to her task. " Tommy didn't tell you?", he asked, his voice a little higher than she'd felt was natural.
"No, he just told me that his brother came through a couple months back. I didn't ask."
"You guys close?"
She smiled a little as she got up to wash out the cloth and wash her hands. " Somewhat, yes. I've known him a long time." Liv stood and dried her hands, then grabbed her knife and stuck it in the boiling water. " So she was an errand. But not anymore." When he looked at her with raised eyebrows, she shrugged. "It's not hard to see that you care about her."
"It's hard to travel the country with someone and not grow close." He sounded defensive, almost a little embarrassed.
Liv nodded. "Especially with a kid." She plucked the knife out of the water and laid it on the clean table, before she grabbed the bottle of alcohol to clean her hands. "What's she like? I need to concentrate for a moment, so I can't talk, and it'll keep you occupied and conscious," she told him with a grin.
Joel snorted. He watched her clean her hands and ready everything to cut into Ellie's arm. He was pretty sure he wouldn't pass out again. The food, water and rest had already done wonders, but the knot in his stomach had returned full force.
She'd seen the bite. Again, someone was readying knives next to an unconscious Ellie. He tried to stay grounded, but his nose was filled with the scent of copper and his heart was hammering away.
This is different. Tommy is on his way. She knows Tommy. She doesn't have it in her eyes. This is different.
He repeated the thoughts over and over, but he couldn't help being forcefully aware of every weapon, every asset, every exit. And Joel knew that she was aware of it too. When they'd looked at each other briefly over the scar on Ellie's arm, while Joel was cursing himself for his recklessness, he'd seen it in her eyes. She wasn't harmless, but she was no danger to them. Most importantly, she was smart. Silently he cursed himself for his fumbling attempt at diversion. She'd accepted it wordlessly, to his relief, but it made him realize that he— that they needed a story. Ellie couldn't run around with a bite mark on her arm, making people have questions, or worse, telling people she was immune. He'd screwed up with his story to her already, and now he needed to rectify that. Protect her. He figured that this was his best choice. Liv didn't seem like a gossip, but as a nurse and with connections to Tommy, whatever they may be, she probably took a central role in the community. Having her as an ally was valuable.
Joel watched her grip Ellie's arm and quickly, efficiently cut the wound open. He gagged as the scent hit his nose, and he turned his face away, jaw clenched. Behind him, he heard Liv scoff.
"Told you so."
"Fine, you win." He pushed himself further down the couch, away from the stench.
"So, you were gonna tell me what she's like."
Joel studied his thumb tracing the rim of his cup, and couldn't help but smile. "Disrespectful and a smart-ass. Stubborn as hell, and reckless. A real troublemaker. Haven't met anyone so prone to get herself in a bad situation. Doesn't listen to a word I say. She's a decent shot. Obsessed with comics and cursing and the worst puns you'll ever hear. Overflowing fantasy. Cares more than is good for her. Heavy, in a ways. Her mother died at birth, she's grown up in the Boston QZ as an orphan. But it made her tough, having no one to rely on. She's a fighter."
"But now she has you." Liv said it as a fact, not looking up, still focused on her work. The way she said it made it sound so simple. It was a million ways more complicated than that. But true nonetheless.
"I guess."
"No?"
He sighed. The old instinct to lock up, to hide and defend reared in him, but Joel was tired, and he felt no judgment from her. And a little vulnerability would go a long way for helping his plan. Only now, here in the calm of the lodge, he realized what it would mean to return to a form of society that was secure and had room for anything else than survival. Even if it went against his instincts, he'd have to get used to it anyhow. Especially if he wanted to keep Ellie around.
"She does… If she wants to."
He saw Liv's eyebrow lift, her hands unfaltering. "Why wouldn't she?"
"She no longer needs me to survive now. She's free to choose now."
Liv seemed to contemplate that. Instead of encouragement, she simply said: "I see."
His stomach dropped at her admission, even if it gave him the slightest hope that he was at least doing the right thing. Ellie would get to choose. Tommy's accusation still rang in his head.
I still have nightmares from the shit you did to protect us!
Joel swallowed and stared down into his cooling tea. " It was… hard for us. We're both stubborn— that probably ain't a surprise to you, if you know my brother," he said with a slight smile, and he heard her snort, " and it took a while for us to get used to each other. There were a lot of close calls… After we left here, we ran into a hunter encampment down in Colorado. I nearly died. She saved my life, but was caught." He swallowed against the lump in his throat. His dreams were either filled with the hospital or filled with smoke, fire, blood, a sobbing Ellie cradling a machete. "She wasn't harmed. Physically. But the things she saw… They had no food, so they… made it."
For the first time, Liv stilled her work and turned to him, eyes wide and face pale as she understood his meaning. " Jesus, " she whispered. She shook her head to clear it, and he saw blood drop to the floor next to the couch, turning his stomach. Liv followed his gaze, and returned to her work. "Don't worry, it's clean now. She'll survive the blood loss. It's good that it flows, it helps me clean the wound." At that, she pulled the basin filled with herbs closer, and started preparing bandages. He saw her clench her jaw as she grabbed the small bottle of iodine. "These fucking hunters. They're worse monsters than the infected. At least they have no choice. It's a fucking farce..." Joel watched her wrap Ellie's wound carefully, all the while shaking her head incredulously, and it almost made him smile how outraged she was, as if that wasn't the world they had all been living in for the last fifteen years.
Liv sighed and stretched her neck and shoulders. Silently he watched her grab needle and thread, focusing himself on watching her work, watching Ellie's face twitch in her sleep, to ward off the images in his head. Liv worked quickly, clearly having done this a hundred times. She was silent, probably occupied with thoughts of killing as well, as she wrapped the bandages around Ellie's arm and secured them. When she was done, she pulled the blanket over Ellie and touched her forehead to check her temperature.
"Alright, we'll leave it for now. I'll change bandages again later, unless the bleeding doesn't stop, but it's looking good. Right now she needs rest, water, and later, food."
He watched her wipe the blood from her hands and picked up bandages soiled with blood and pus, throwing them into the dirty water. " And now, to you." She came over to him and knelt down in front of him, and at his puzzled look, she laughed. "Your leg?"
"Oh." Honestly, he'd forgotten. There were few parts of his body that didn't hurt and throb.
Joel watched Liv kneel down and gently grab his foot. "I'll take off your shoe, and then you'll put your foot against my shoulder."
He wanted to argue that he was reeking and she certainly didn't want his shoes off, but quickly realized that there was no use for vanity. She hadn't flinched over Ellie's wound, and he doubted that she'd be doing her job if she was that sensitive. It wasn't a luxury she could afford.
As if that isn't the world we've been living in for fifteen years.
At his nod she made short work of his laces and pulled his boot of, and even though she tried to be gentle, at her yank, he was painfully aware of his leg again. Grinding his teeth, he lifted it up to her shoulder with her help, were it fit surprisingly comfortably.
"I'll have to cut open the jeans, I'm afraid. You could take it off, but this'll be easier, especially for checking on the bandages later. Too complicated to get you in an out of it with the wet bandages, to cold to keep it off altogether. I can sow the cut back together when we get to Jackson."
There was no teasing to her voice, but Joel felt the slightest blush anyhow, much to his annoyance. "Just do what you have to."
Gracefully, she ignored his blush and slid her knife beneath the seam of his jeans. For the moment, she seemed satisfied to work, no questions shooting his way. As he watched her wrap the cut fabric up and grabbing a clean rag to wipe the mud from his leg and wound, Joel took his time to study her. He realized he hadn't really looked at her the whole time, too wound up in the anxiety to survive and Ellie's injury.
Sure, his brain had scanned her briefly, the way he was used to: she was a head smaller than him, neither skinny nor particular muscular, probably around Tommy's age. His brain had categorized that physically, she wasn't much of a challenge, then moved on to study the men. It wasn't that he thought women were no threat— he'd lived and fought with Tess long enough, god knew. His brain was just used to getting the necessary information and moving on.
Now that the immediate danger was over, his brain moved further. Up close, he was sure she was younger than Tommy, at least by a couple of years. Joel guessed she was in her mid thirties, even if her face looked younger. No lines around her eyes, no grey or white in her dirty blonde hair, that was longer than he was used to seeing. Joel assumed that was due to her living in a secure settlement, in the outside world, no one bothered with long hair or risked giving the world and others one more opportunity of getting caught or grabbed. Her face wasn't as gaunt as he was used to, helping her look younger, he assumed. She looked… healthy.
But Joel noticed the other signs too, the look in her eyes, the worried wrinkles on her forehead, the scars she carried that he could see. A cut at her throat, left by a knife pressed there. The edge of a ridged scar that peeked out above the collar of her shirt, looking like she'd been stabbed. Cuts on her arms and hands, a sizable silvery line running along the left edge of her jaw, a newer, red scar on her right temple that broke her hairline, no hair growing where the injury had left a small breach between the strands. She had seen violence.
The hands that were currently finishing wiping down his leg felt soft but calloused, obviously used to hard work, and despite their small size, they were strong.
This world had made him good at judging people out of necessity, and he wasn't surprised that she was a friend of his brothers. He wondered if there had ever been more between them. He knew his brother, and she seemed to be a good, sturdy person.
Liv poured alcohol over her hands and wiped them down, before she tilted the bottle above his leg. It stung, but Joel bit down the grunt as she cleaned the cut. As she readied himself to sew his wound, his curiosity won out.
"So, how long have you known my brother?"
She briefly glanced up at him, a small smile appearing on her lips. "Uh… We're going on seven years now."
Joel lifted his eyebrows. Tommy had told him he'd been in Jackson for four years, so that meant she'd met him before. Again, she seemed to guess his thoughts.
"I met him and Eugene in the Denver QZ, back when they were with the Fireflies."
He felt the hairs on his neck rise. "You a Firefly?"
Liv shook her head. "Nah. I've served with them for about eight months, because the only alternative was joining the military, but I never considered myself part of them." She was silent for a moment, lost in thought. " I did go to Denver to join them, but I was young and stupid and had only heard the good stories. Reality caught up fast, and I disagreed with their methods. " A grin broke across her face. " In the end, it turned out well though, because I found Tommy and Eugene, and brought them both back here."
That surprised him. "So you were livin' in Jackson before, but left? I thought this was one of the places that was more or less secure from the start?"
A sigh escaped her. "Yes, to both. I lived here with Maria— Tommy's wife— and her father. We built this place up. I was only twenty on outbreak day, and my … temper is very different from theirs, so we disagreed over the years. I was young, and thrilled by the idea of saving the world. I thought we ought to share our resources with the Fireflies, make Jackson a base. We disagreed, had a horrible fight, and I stubbornly left for Denver. Luckily, I was smart enough to first get my opinion on them before I told them about Jackson. I was disillusioned pretty fast. Denver was horrible. Violent. There was no hope in that place." She grew silent for a moment. With a sigh, she dipped her head toward his leg and bit off the thread, tying it off neatly. Joel hadn't even felt the stitches. "I befriended Tommy and Eugene though, and since they weren't happy either, we escaped a few months later when we had the chance, and came to Jackson."
He studied her and tried to draw comparisons, but he truthfully couldn't for life of him recall Maria's face. Joel was fairly sure she was blonde, too.
"So Maria is your sister."
A small smile as she pushed herself up after dressing his wound. "In all ways that matter, yes."
Joel scoffed. " You always this vague?"
Liv grinned. "Keeps you on your toes. Have to make sure you're awake. Oath and all that jazz." As he rolled his eyes, she laughed openly. " We're not sisters by blood, but she is my sister. Don't worry, there is no great mystery, there are just more pressing matters right now."
She picked up the remaining basin and placed it next to him, pushing a piece of cloth and small slip of soap into his hand afterwards. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll go out to the stream and get some fresh water— I'll leave the door open so you can hear me. I'd rather get enough water for the rest of the night in while it's still light outside."
At his nod, she turned and carried the basin soaked with Ellie's blood outside. Joel took the cloth to the warm water and rubbed the soap into it. Now that the option to clean himself was there, he noticed how much he reeked after their days in the pit. He felt the dried mud crack on his skin whenever he moved.
The relief he felt upon rubbing his face with warm water never failed to catch him by surprise, no matter how often he was caught in the wilderness, unable to clean himself properly. Joel wiped his face, his hands, eventually surrendering, unbuttoned his shirt and dipped his head into the basin. As he started working on his chest, he heard Liv return, and murmuring to her horse in the entryway, followed by the sounds of greedy drinking.
A minute later she returned with another basin, after having secured the door again, and filled the pots on the fire. They payed each other no mind, her feeding the fire and busying herself, and him, battling the dirt on his skin. Joel thought that maybe he ought to feel embarrassed at sitting half-naked, but Liv seemed unbothered and paid him no mind, and he was too tired to care.
That was until he winced while trying to reach past his shoulder and a hand appeared next to him, softly withdrawing the cloth from his hand.
"Let me help."
Efficiently but gently Liv took the cloth to his back, wiping away the dirt. He'd had no doubt about her skill, having seen her patch them up, but the way she washed and gently massaged his sore muscles showed a skill beyond the simple stitching of a wound. Joel bit the insides of his cheeks, stifling groans of pain and the pleasure of its relief. A shiver and violent goosebumps broke across his skin, both from the icy air against his now wet skin, and the simple, almost entirely alien pleasure of being touched without the intention of harm. It shook him more than he would've expected. It was too easy forget that care was part of being human, too, when you were surrounded by nothing but violence. The things he had seen. Joel fought down the urge to run, to fight, to protect himself. He had made a choice when he had turned them back to Jackson. Ellie needed them. He couldn't be afraid, even if this all went against his instincts.
"There you go." Joel could hear the smile in her voice as she took a small dry towel and dried his back. Once she was done, she handed it to him and grabbed his shirt, caked with dirt, and studied it with a frown. "I'm afraid if I wash this, you'll freeze to death. Better to get you a bit dirty again. I'm almost sure that shouldn't kill you." With a grin, she went to one of the vacant tables and started beating his shirt against it, the dry mud cracking and bursting into clouds of dust, before returning it to him again.
"Thank you."
Cleaner, dry and warm, he already felt a lot better, and now that the most pressing matters were taken care of Joel felt heaviness settle into his bones. The muscles Liv had just cleaned and massaged felt like lead, and a yawn broke its way out of him.
A second later, a blanket hit him in the face.
"Get some sleep." It was a command, but she was smiling. "I'll make us some food and you need rest. I'll wake you once it's done. You need it… and honestly," she said, glancing about and across the huge windowed front, "I'd rather have you sleep now while it's light outside and be awake with me once it's dark. Better safe than sorry."
"Any reason to worry?" Joel thought about the ambush on the plant the last time he'd been at Jackson, and her reaction to the Hunters.
Liv hesitated. "The last time we saw Hunters was two months ago. The last stragglers, five weeks ago. Some infected cross this valley now and then, but they aren't what's worrying me. … We'll probably be fine. "
"Still. Wake me when you're done." He nodded at her, understanding her worry. He spread the blanket above himself and lay back dutifully, sleep gripping him almost immediately.
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