#but if you reblog out which one you fall under in the tags 🤭

[silenzahra]

🫧 Bubbles of love 🫧

Exactly one year ago, a very special game was released for the Nintendo Switch:

🫧 Super Mario Bros Wonder 🫧

And it's a game that I loved and enjoyed so much, that I decided to write a little something to celebrate it! 🎂

As I mentioned here, I came up with this idea when I was trying to fall asleep a few nights ago and wrote it in one go the following evening. Don't even ask me how, because I always take FOREVER to write a story, but in this case, and as shocking as it sounds, this story is short.

Yes. You read it right: short. Again, I don't know how, but without setting a precedent, I was able, for once, to write a story that is actually short 😂

Anyways, thank you so much to those of you who reacted to the aforementioned post to try and guess what this story might be about! You're about to find out... and I'll just say a few of you got it right 🤭 (And those who didn't, you gave me amazing ideas... I may or may not be taking notes for the future 🤭📝)

I hope it's okay that I tag those of you who showed interest, as well as some folks who I believe might enjoy this 🥰 Of course, if I'm wrong, you're more than free to ignore this post, and please forgive me for bothering you 😅

@megamagimugi @kelbreyworshipper @pepperycar @peaches2217 @bberetd

@itsavee4117 @coffeecat1983 @keakruiser @doodleydoo101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf (no rush at all of course! Take your time 🥰)

@smokszyvverstar @eleventhhourfactor @marioandluigi1983 @c-lavanda @zocchini37

@teegeeteegee @akiiame-blog @dragon-fly34 @wahooitsamee @supergay-64

My beloved big sis @vulpixfairy1985 deserves a special mention, as you'll find a part in this story that might remind you of her beautiful story A moment together 🤭🎈 Thank you so much for giving me permission to do so, dear sister! 💖

Without further ado: enjoy! 😄🫧💖

As always, you can continue reading under the cut! Likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and any kind of feedback is always more than welcome! 🥰💖

🫧 Bubbles of love 🫧

Mario can't stop looking at Peach.

He’s been staring at her in rapt attention for a while now. Specifically, since he’s seen her touch the Bubble Flower that has caused her familiar pink dress, which suits her so well and which Mario adores dearly, to turn a shade of purple, though not a very dark one. Peach has immediately begun to throw bubbles to catch the enemies that were stalking them, facing them without hesitation, bravely and keeping every bit of her characteristic elegance untouched.

And Mario has confirmed, once again, that he’s absolutely and irremediably in love with her.

Now, fortunately, the road they’re following is completely clear. They’ve all stopped to rest together in a clearing in Pipe-Rock Plateau, and Peach, her power-up still on, is sitting on a rock and chats absentmindedly with Toadette. Mario is not even aware that he’s smiling wider than ever as he watches her; he’s just reveling in her infinite beauty, her long golden hair and deep blue eyes that resemble two sapphires, and her gestures and expressions, never lacking in sweetness and demureness.

Mario suddenly finds himself lost in thought, his mind filling with the moments they shared together on their first visit to the Flower Kingdom a year ago. How much Peach was surprised when the Piranha Plants started singing, just before she started smiling and clapping as she let herself be carried away by the music, being the first of the whole group to do so. The various races with their friend Wiggler, with whom they had such a great time, despite the dangerousness of some of the places they ran. The unexpected Halloween-themed party they stumbled upon when they arrived at Fungi Mines. How Peach liked to chase him as they dived into Petal Isles, making reaching the finish in the watery areas a fun and always healthy competition. The catchy and lively music with which the Ninjis greeted the whole group when they arrived at their hidden disco in Sunbaked Desert and how Peach enjoyed jumping to the rhythm of their melody.

The wonderful feeling of flying away clutching his cap while Peach did the same at his side, which gave them the opportunity to share a brief moment of complicity and fun that belonged only to them.

A sigh escapes Mario's lips. What he’d give to relive all those moments with his beloved princess just one more time.

What he’d give to muster the courage to go one step further and declare his love to her at last.

A loud laugh startles him and brings him back to reality. Puzzled, he turns his head in search of the source of the laughter. He smiles immediately when he notices Daisy, who, not much farther away, pulls Luigi's hand, who is also laughing, although a little more shyly and nervously. Mario notices that both of them are also using a Bubble Flower, as evidenced by Luigi's pink shirt and hat and his green overalls and Daisy's purple dress. A sudden memory assaults Mario's mind: his little brother, completely blushing, confessing to him, without looking him in the eye, that he loves how well Daisy looks in purple, as according to him, it matches perfectly with the yellow of the edges of her skirt and with her auburn hair. And, besides, it's her favorite color.

Mario's smile is full of tenderness as he watches his beloved little brother being carried away by his fearless princess. Daisy is creating bubbles incessantly and, without letting go of Luigi's hand, she starts bouncing on them, dragging the younger plumber along with her. Mario watches them while he remembers another special occasion: that time when, after taking Luigi to Sarasaland in his Odyssey ship, he began to create bubbles near the princess' balcony to invite her and Luigi to share a moment together. Mario recalls how much fun they both had, holding hands as they danced on the bubbles, the purest and most primal happiness radiating from their every gesture and face.

Mario couldn’t be happier that they’ve decided to recreate the scene they shared back then, this time being in charge of creating the bubbles themselves. Tenderness dances in his chest as he witnesses how his twin, despite his initial insecurity and reticence, gradually gains more confidence, no doubt infected by Daisy's boldness and the self-assuredness she gives him. Mario’s heart fills with joy when a laugh finally bursts from Luigi's lips, showing that all traces of fear have been buried under layers and layers of fun and bliss.

With dreamy eyes, Mario watches as, in a matter of seconds, Luigi and Daisy are dancing in the air, holding hands and surrounded by bubbles that seem to be in tune with their movements. A giggle escapes Mario as Luigi spins Daisy around and then holds her around the waist, Daisy's arms around his neck. His little brother is quite a ladies’ man.

A soft giggle then reaches his ears. Mario's attention is immediately diverted to Peach, who, like him, looks at the couple and seems touched by the happiness they radiate. It is at that moment, watching the princess cover her mouth with her hand, always so restrained, with her golden hair falling in waves down her back and her distinctive heart-shaped bangs crowning her forehead, that Mario gets the idea.

He doesn’t miss a beat and starts turning everywhere. Fortunately, his search soon pays off: not far away, at the other end of the clearing, he spots a block that, he hopes, hides a Bubble Flower. He rushes to it without a second thought, but on the way, he’s assailed by the possibility that it’s an Elephant Fruit or a Drill Mushroom. What will he do then? His plan will only work with a Bubble Flower... Although there might be something he can do for Peach if he finds himself transformed into an elephant. After all, he's pretty good at improvising.

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he reaches the block and looks at it while giving himself a few seconds to catch his breath. His fate is locked inside that bright yellow box with a white question mark inscribed on it. His mind tries to come up with ideas, options that he could carry out in case he doesn't receive the desired power-up, but Mario has never dealt well with uncertainty.

So, without further thought, he jumps up with his fist in the air.

A beautiful flower with a pink center in which two black eyes gleam, surrounded by purple petals which, in turn, are encircled by other petals, these of a snowy white, welcomes him.

Mario laughs and lets out a shout of victory before jumping back up, hand outstretched to touch the flower at its very center. As soon as he does, he notices how his body absorbs the power-up and performs a small spin in the air as his clothes change color, his blue overalls turning red and his shirt and cap turning pink. Before he hits the ground again, he’s already created his first bubble.

Satisfied, he quickly turns around and makes sure that Peach hasn't noticed anything, as she has resumed her conversation with Toadette. A little further on, Mario is surprised to see that, among the bubbles, Luigi and Daisy are now dancing closer than ever, their mouths very close to touching. He looks away immediately; even though they’re in a clearing with their other companions, he understands that this is a very intimate moment for his brother and the princess of Sarasaland. He tells himself that he has to remember to congratulate Luigi later, but not before teasing him a little as any good big brother would do.

Determined, Mario stands with his back to everyone and begins to carry out his plan. First he creates a huge bubble to serve as a base, and on both sides of it he places two others, also very large. He has to stifle a giggle as he realizes that he’s inadvertently formed a head that reminds him of a certain very famous mouse whose tone of voice is quite similar to his, or so he has always been told. He doesn't think there are that many similarities, but he's gotten used to the jokes.

He shrugs and continues with his task. He continues to blow and originate large bubbles that he places in the appropriate positions and climbs through them as his creation takes shape. He has no idea how long it takes him, but during that time, short or long, only he and his plan exist. He completely forgets where he is and who is around him. He can only recreate in his mind Peach's beautiful face, the living image of grace and pureness, as he works tirelessly. How will she react when she sees what he’s done? Will she be very surprised? Will she be happy?

Will she be... horrified?

Suddenly it occurs to Mario that, perhaps, what he’s doing is too bold, too obvious. He may indeed be taking a big risk. With his hand outstretched and about to blow yet another bubble, Mario thinks for a few seconds. Should he stop? Should he go on? What if it's too much?

However, he immediately shakes his head. He knows he wants to do it, no matter what, and that nothing could stop him. Not when resolve courses through his veins like a fast-flowing river and floods every corner of his body.

Besides, he loves the power of creating bubbles, bouncing on them and feeling himself fly higher and higher, and what better way to finally take the step of expressing his feelings for the princess of the Mushroom Kingdom than to use them?

Mario forces the torrent of tremendous thoughts that appear in his mind to stop and ignores the rapid beating of his heart. Firmly, he finally blows and creates a new bubble with which to perform his plan, and skillfully directs it to the point where he wants to place it.

Whatever happens next, Mario is willing to take the risk.

When, at last, he blows the last big bubble that puts the finishing touch to his work, Mario sits on it with a soft snort, eyes closed, and runs his sleeve across his forehead. He smiles absently and gives himself a few seconds to enjoy the sensation of being high up. There’s not much distance between the ground and where he stands, but it’s enough for him.

When he opens his eyes, however, his serene smile is replaced by an expression full of the most infinite surprise.

At his feet, a large part of his group of friends has gathered. The two Toads and the four Yoshis gaze at his creation with amazement gleaming on their faces. Nabbit is there too, his head tilted back so as not to miss a detail, but the scarf covering half of his face prevents Mario from reading his expression clearly. Even Luigi and Daisy have abandoned their close dance to come closer to watch, and they’re both beaming with smiles full of admiration and eyes shining with enthusiasm. When his glance meets his brother's, Mario smiles sheepishly as Luigi gives him an energetic thumbs-up while winking approvingly.

Next to his twin, Mario spots Toadette, who is clapping enthusiastically, and he waves at her quickly as his brain starts to process that, if she's there, that means...

Indeed, standing by her side is Peach herself, causing Mario's throat to suddenly go dry as his heart skips a beat.

His beloved Peach, for whom he has just built a huge heart made of bubbles.

His beloved Peach, who gazes at the result of his efforts with wide eyes as she covers her mouth with both hands.

His beloved Peach, whose sparkling sapphire eyes meet his own.

Mario is speechless. Are those... tears? He can't tell for sure, as he stands at a certain height, but he could swear he’s seen something glistening in the evening sun on the sides of his princess's beautiful eyes.

To say that his heart is bouncing in his chest would be an understatement.

Embarrassment invades Mario in a sudden surge that sweeps everything in its path. He hadn't counted on having such an audience. He had hoped it could be something private, something to share only with Peach. Of course, considering that the whole group is gathered in the middle of a clearing, he supposes it was too much to ask.

Still, the plumber puts his hand to his mouth and blows again. He sends the new bubble floating gently to Peach's very feet, and she lowers her head for a moment before raising it again, questioning him with her gaze. Despite the insecurity that always floods him when it comes to her, Mario nods, his lips drawing a nervous and somewhat crooked smile, and hurries to blow a second bubble that he also sends down, though at a slightly higher distance than the first one.

And Peach, without taking her eyes off Mario, lowers her hands to grab her purple skirts and begin the ascent.

Mario's heart swells and sings as he notices the wide, radiant smile adorning the pink lips of his beloved princess.

He forces himself to hold back a giggle of joy and keep blowing. His eyes never leave Peach's, who, in turn, can't take her eyes off him. Mario watches as his princess climbs towards him, those deep eyes getting closer and closer, her approaching him as if in slow motion. His rapid heartbeat thunders in his ears, but he’d love to continue living this moment forever, to extend it in time, to never end the sweet anticipation of knowing that, soon, his princess will be with him.

He never wants to stop looking at those eyes, which, as he very well knows, can never, ever have an owner, because of the simple fact that they’re not of this world.

However, sooner than he expected, Mario finds himself having to look up slightly, as Peach has finally reached him. They both gasp slightly, but the princess’ smile is so wide and shiny, brighter than the sun itself, that Mario doubts there can be anything in the world that would be able to erase it. He was about to create a new bubble, his hand outstretched, so instead, he extends his arm a little and offers it to Peach. She lets go of her skirts without a second thought and accepts his hand, her slender, delicate fingers resting gently on his rough, calloused palm.

Mario can hardly believe his luck.

Quickly, he leans to one side and invites Peach to sit next to him in the bubble that closes the heart, which she does with diligence and gracefulness, their hands still clasped together. The instant Mario’s brain registers that his beloved princess has just taken a seat next to him and that their fingers, despite the gloves, remain touching, he feels like he might faint. The outside world disappears completely for him, as does the entire group that continues looking at them on the ground. He barely hears, as if in the background, the voices of Luigi and Daisy as they urge the others to disperse to give the couple some privacy.

At this very moment, only he and Peach exist.

When they look at each other, she seems to want to tell him so many things. Why he has just created an entire heart made of bubbles, perhaps. Why he's invited her up, only her. “You're crazy,” even.

Peach doesn't utter a word, however. She doesn't need to, for her bright, expressive eyes speak for her. Mario senses that they’re communicating, that they’re speaking despite the absence of words, that they’re having a conversation that only they understand, a conversation that springs directly from her heart and reaches into his own.

And yet, despite this, he could never have foreseen what Peach does next.

She raises her hand, causing the touch between them to break. For Mario, it's like having a little piece of his heart ripped out, like his lungs shrinking in size. He will recover, however; for a few precious seconds he’s held his princess's hand between his fingers, and nothing can take away the joy that this brief but intense contact has caused him.

Even so, before he has time to understand what’s happening, Peach's palms rest on his cheeks, so that she’s cupping his face with infinite tenderness. Mario has just short-circuited again, so he’s unable to react. Unless melting inside and feeling his face burning like the fiercest fire counts as a reaction.

And suddenly, with the swiftness of the blink of an eye, Peach's lips land on his.

Mario's heart stops suddenly.

Suddenly he’s no longer there. Suddenly, he’s gone up to heaven and he’s not even aware that he’s done so. Suddenly, his eyes can do nothing but close, his ears cut off from the outside world, his hands rise to rest on Peach's hips with a certain possessiveness that he doesn't know where it comes from, but that he’s unable to contain.

Suddenly, Mario is in heaven and does not intend to come back down.

[bluebeary-jay]

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why�� how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out.  It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel…

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”