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justagalwhowrites · 5 hours ago

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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 8: Making Waves

You start filming Savage Starlight and a conflict brings you and Joel closer together. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 7 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Mild violence. Memory of past childhood sexual abuse, not described. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 11.9k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

August, 2002

You stared down at your headshot on your lap, your stomach in knots.

This wasn’t an audition but it felt like one. An intense one at that. Not that you’d ever taken your career casually, you’d always given your best at auditions and rehearsals and on set, even when you were first starting years ago. But that had always just been to make your mom happy and make things better for the people around you and to make something good. You’d never really worried about the practicalities of it. But you had to worry about those practicalities now.

It had been a month since you found out your mother had, essentially, driven your financial life into the ground. You still didn’t know what her endgame was. You were hardly a genius at math but looking at the piles of papers you’d found in her office told you enough and, when you confronted her, she told you the truth: you were more than $6 million in debt, $2 million of that owed to the U.S. government. You may not know much but you knew that was bad. Really fucking bad. You needed money, way more than you’d make for a season of Family Tree. You had, at least, managed to land $100,000 an episode for the season you were filming now but still, that was only $2 million, just enough to cover the past due tax bill and nothing else. You’d been living in your trailer - it was only a matter of time before someone figured that one out - and surviving off craft services for weeks. You needed an apartment, you needed to get a lawyer to get emancipated and those things required money. You needed something else, you needed it to pay well and you needed it now.

You heard your name and your head shot up. The receptionist smiled kindly at you.

“Mr. Wilde will see you now,” she said. “Head on in.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as best you could, your chest tight, and straightened your dress before you headed into the office.

The room was huge, panoramic windows looking over the hills beyond, shelves of awards and pictures of the same man smiling with celebrities on every surface. That man, Henry Wilde, was looking down at his desk when you came in, in a blazer with the top few buttons of his shirt open. You let the door close behind you and you hovered awkwardly, trying to not fidget with your headshot. This was the first time you’d ever taken a meeting like this on your own. Your mother had been your agent but you weren’t about to let her represent you for shit anymore. You needed to find one of those, too. After what felt like a small eternity had passed, you cleared your throat quietly and he looked up, appraising you for a moment before smiling.

“Hey there sweetheart,” he said, standing up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in! Please, make yourself comfortable.”

He gestured to the plush seats opposite his desk and you smiled, relaxing a little as you crossed the room and sat down. He set his Blackberry to the side and laced his fingers together as he watched you arrange yourself, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Wilde,” you said. “I know you said I could reach out when I needed something but I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course,” he scoffed. “I do my best to make time for rising talent like you. I’ve been enjoying your work, you are a truly gifted actor.”

“Thank you,” you said, sitting up a little straighter, your hands looping around your knee as you crossed one leg over the other. “That really means a lot, coming from you. I mean when you look at the projects you’ve produced…”

“Please, let’s not waste our time talking about me,” he waved you off. “I’m much more interested in what made you reach out, especially on your own without your mother. She’s always been so… hands on.”

“Yeah,” you winced a little in spite of yourself. “She’s… she’s not representing me anymore. That’s part of why I wanted to see you. I… I found out some things about what she’s been doing and how she’s been managing me and…”

He smiled a little.

“You need some help figuring things out on your own?” He finished for you.

“Yes,” you sighed, relieved, and then laughed. “Yes, I really, really do. I don’t really know what I’m doing for this, just that I have some money that I owe so I need to work but I don’t know how to find an agent or a manager and how to find more work and I just…”

“You were right to come to me,” he cut you off, reaching into a tray on his desk, flipping through a stack of file folders before finding the one he was looking for. “We can’t be losing talent like yours to the bureaucratic bullshit of the industry…”

You were silent for a minute, watching as he paged through things, nodding to himself, before reaching into his desk and pulling out a business card. You sat up a little straighter as he looked at you across the desk.

“I think I have a way to help you,” he said. “There’s a part that I can get you an audition for - you’d still have to land it but I’ll get you in the mix - that should solve any of the economic issues you’re having. And I have an agent for you -” he held the business card out to you between two thick fingers. You reached to take it but he pulled it back. You frowned, looking back at him. “But I’d need something in return.”

You deflated a little.

“But…”

“I’m a business man,” he continued, watching you. “I don’t give things away for free. If I did, I never would have reached where I am today. This needs to go both ways, sweetheart.”

You laughed a little in spite of yourself.

“OK,” you said. “But I… I don’t have anything. That’s why I’m here, I don’t have any money, I don’t know anybody - at least not anyone you wouldn’t know - I…”

“I don’t need money or power,” he interrupted you. His eyes ranged over you, slow and sharp. “But believe me, there’s plenty you have that I want.”

You swallowed hard, your stomach clenching.

“I don’t…”

“And there’s plenty I have that you want,” he continued like you hadn’t spoken at all, his eyes lingering on your chest, your thighs. “The only question is what you will do to get it.”

You steeled yourself, the threat of debt and homelessness hanging over your head.

“I’ll do anything,” you said. “Please.”

He smiled, the expression making you want to squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

“Good,” he said, holding the card out again. “That’s the information for the agent. I’ll give them the information for the audition if you come to my hotel tonight at 8 p.m. Sound good?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. It wasn’t like you had any experience with men but you knew what he was asking for.

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll send a car and I’ll see you tonight.”

He looked back to his desk and you took that to mean that you were dismissed and you stood up, your legs shaky and your headshot still in your hands.

“Oh, and sweetheart?” He said and you turned to face him, an almost hungry look on his face. “Wear something… cute.”

You just nodded and made your way out of his office, past the receptionist and to the elevator, trying not to wonder if any of this was worth it.

November 29. 2024

“Christmas Shoes.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true, that’s my favorite Christmas song.”

You scoffed.

“Who hurt you as a child?” You asked, wishing you could turn and look at your costar but you had to sit still for the makeup artists to do their job, your eyes closed as one of them worked on your eyeshadow. “That’s the worst, most depressing song choice in the world.”

“Alright, Miss Superiority Complex,” he said. “What’s your favorite Christmas song?”

“Christmas Wrapping by the Waitresses,” you said without hesitation.

“No,” he said and you could almost hear him shaking his head and you resisted the urge to giggle. “No, I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to sound cool, that’s not actually your favorite.”

“Yes it is,” you said. “Sorry my taste is so much better than yours but…”

“Alright,” your makeup artist said and you didn’t feel her fingers or brushes on your face anymore so you opened your eyes. She smiled, sitting back from you, looking proud of her work. “Ready for the wig?”

“Hell yeah,” you smiled. “Let’s go.”

They turned your chair so your back was to the mirror and you watched as the artists brought in a white wig that looked like it would reach your waist. The prep work for the hairpiece had already been done, a bald cap on your head while the makeup artists did their job, and putting on the wig itself didn’t take too long, a production assistant going to get one of the marketing team interns to come in and shoot the video of you seeing yourself as Starlight for the first time. You got out of the chair, keeping your back to the mirrors as your co-star, Cole Cox, watched from his own makeup chair with a little smile on his face.

“You do look really good,” he said, the marketing person catching everything. “My kid is going to lose her mind when she sees me standing next to you.”

“Wait ’til she sees you flying with me,” you smiled back before jumping in place for a moment to loosen yourself up, the camera fading into the background of your mind. “Alright, let’s do it!”

You turned to face the mirror and gasped in spite of yourself.

You’d seen yourself in costume plenty of times before in your life. Sometimes it seemed like you spent more time dressed up as someone else than you did as yourself. But you’d never seen yourself as a superhero before. Putting the costume on that morning had been an experience in and of itself. It took some help getting into it, the molded pieces and tight fabric a lot more work than you were used to when it came to getting dressed, but you couldn’t deny that the end result looked pretty incredible.

But with the wig and the makeup - highlighting your cheekbones, making your eyes look sharper - it was even better.

“Oh my God,” you said leaning into the mirror to get a better look at yourself. The makeup artist laughed. “This is amazing! I look… heroic!”

“Endure and survive, baby,” Cole said and you laughed.

“Endure and survive,” You smiled, looking over your shoulder to him.

“Alright, let’s get you two to set,” the production assistant said and you took one last look at yourself before you turned to leave.

It was almost hard to believe that you’d been in Austin, making Thanksgiving dinner at this time the day before. It had been a hectic day, getting up early and napping in the car on the way to the airport and again on the plane, feeling oddly safe sleeping in front of people because you knew Joel was there. You’d gone straight from LAX to the studio and into costuming and makeup and even though you were just doing some promo stuff that day, you knew you were going to be exhausted by the time you made it home that night.

Joel, to his credit, had been surprisingly… maybe not kind, but less than surly since your conversation in your office days earlier. While he didn’t seem thrilled about getting up so early, he’d kept his commentary to himself and hadn’t even fought too hard about needing to wait outside the hair and makeup room instead of being glued to your side the entire time. You wondered if he’d be happy being quite that flexible during the rest of your trip. Somehow, you doubted it.

Your bodyguard was right there when the door to the makeup room opened, looking like he’d been pacing the short distance of the hallway for a while, turning quickly as you left.

“Took you long…” he began but his voice trailed off and he stared at you, his eyes going a little wide.

“So cool, right?” You said, popping your hip and planting your hand there to strike a pose. “It really looks like the suit from the comics! Do you think Ellie will like it?”

He snapped his mouth shut and blinked for a moment.

“Well?” You asked, brows raised, suddenly nervous. Joel had come to know Ellie well over the last few months, what if he thought she wouldn’t like it?

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, much of his trademark gruffness absent from his voice. “Yeah, think… You look… She’ll like it.”

You smiled and made your way to set, Joel damn near pressed to your side the entire way.

It was about what you expected for the rest of the day. You posed for promotional photos with Cole and by yourself, the oddly exacting feeling of Joel’s eyes on you while you did. Then, they put you in some rigging and walked you through how to pose like you were flying.

“OK this is trippy,” you said, hanging 10 feet in the air. “Are we going to use any of this footage for anything but promos? I’m not sure of her physicality yet, especially with flight…”

“This is just for your intro video,” the director said. “Kind of like a highlight reel. It’ll circulate online plenty after the announcement but we don’t have any plans to use this anywhere in the final film.”

“So I can fuck around as much as I want,” you said. “Noted.”

You heard Joel stifle a laugh and you looked toward him as he rolled his eyes.

“What, Big Miller?” You teased.

“Nothin’,” he said. “Just learning where that niece of yours got her mouth from.”

“She had to learn it somewhere,” you winked and you saw him try not to smile.

You ended up in the air for a while, the camera slowly panning down your costumed body, capturing you from every angle and you tried not to feel self conscious about that before you focused on looking strong and intimidating with a wind machine in your face.

Then were some fight sequences - mostly just your side of it, almost like you were battling a camera man - and striking poses that felt immensely foolish, your hands out in front of you like you were sending a burst of energy forth but none came. The marketing person followed you around any time you weren’t actively filming, catching you goofing off with Cole and dancing a little to the music that was playing on set as everyone got into position. It was disconcerting, being so observed again. You’d become spoiled in Texas, months since you’d last been on a film set or under the omnipresent eye of a camera. You had to maintain a different persona here, one that was palatable and easily consumed and, by the time you went back to get out of costume, you were exhausted.

“You alright?” Joel asked, his hand on your lower back as he led you to the car.

“Fine,” you said, trying to hide a yawn and failing miserably. “Just tired.”

“Probably hungry, too,” he muttered, sounding irritated. “Didn’t see you eat a damn thing today and you were doin’ all that shit, flying around, fighting… Gonna fuckin’ collapse if you’re not careful.”

You looked at him, a little incredulous as he opened the car door.

“There’s not room for me to eat anything in that suit,” you said. “And since when do you pay attention to my eating habits?”

He rolled his eyes.

“In the car.”

“So demanding,” you muttered but you obeyed all the same, too eager to have room to breathe to fight his orders on principle. Joel climbed in after you, pulling the door closed with a little too much force. The driver started moving almost the second the door was closed. “But the statement still stands, since when do you care what I’m eating?”

“Since you collapsing would make my life difficult,” he said. “And since we were on that set all damn day with that big food table and all you did was drink water and Diet fuckin’ Coke.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“Shove it,” he griped. You snorted. “You got food in that house of yours or are you just planning to go on hunger strike for this whole damn movie?”

You rolled your eyes but unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned between the front seats so you could see the driver. He glanced at you, brows raised.

“Ma’am.”

“Hi,” you smiled. “You don’t have to just go to my house, right? I can tell you somewhere else to go?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

“Siren,” Joel said, a warning tone on his voice that you ignored.

“Perfect,” you said. “Then let’s go to In ’n Out, one near the beach please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said again and you sat back, crossing one leg over the other and looking at Joel, smug.

“Security don’t get a say in this?” He said wryly.

“Nope,” you said.

“You tryin’ to get yourself killed?” He asked.

“Usually,” you said.

He rolled his eyes.

“Seatbelt,” he said.

“Seatbelt,” you said, lowering your voice to parrot his own, bobbing your head from side to side but obeying anyway. “God, isn’t it exhausting being that controlling?”

“You’re exhausting,” he said. “You’re not just going inside a restaurant, you know.”

“I know,” you said. “It’s fast food, Joel. It has a drive through.”

“Jesus,” he muttered and you smiled.

“You forgot,” you said. He looked at you, brows raised and you smiled wider. “You forgot that fast food places have drive throughs for a minute there, didn’t you.”

“No,” he said, defensive and irritated and you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing. “I just always expect you to do the most ridiculous shit, damn the consequences. Don’t see why you’d change that now.”

You just rolled your eyes and watched the city go by, girls in short dresses dashing across streets and ducking into bars, guys clapping hands with their friends, the lights of the city sparkling. You wondered what it would be like to live that life, one where you could just be a face in the crowd that no one paid any mind to beyond the people you loved, where a small economy wasn’t riding on you showing up to work every day, where you weren’t so caged by choices made for you before you could even really understand them.

You did a video call with Ellie on the drive and checked in with her and Elise, who had come to stay at your house for the few weeks you were gone so they would be better protected. She’d had a good day, Esmo helping the two of them decorate the house for Christmas.

“Sissy, look at this shit!” Ellie said, turning the camera so it faced out into the living room.

“Ellie!” Elise scolded. “Language!”

“Fine,” she sighed, exasperated. “Look at this stuff.”

“That looks amazing, kiddo!” You said, watching as she panned around the room, showing off the fat tree that sat against the back wall. “Good eye.”

“It even has the old ornaments, look!” She said, going to the tree and going in close on a bulb that was covered in haphazard glitter paint in the shape of a small handprint, one Ellie and Anna had made when Ellie was a toddler. “Like the really old ones I made with Mom!”

“Yeah,” you said, getting choked up. “Check that out.”

She turned the camera back on her face.

“We saved some for you to put on. But… Wish you could have been here to decorate and sh…stuff,” she said.

“Me too,” you smiled a little sadly. “But I’ll be home before you know it and you can show me everything.”

“Cool,” she said. “Hey, Big Miller!”

“What’s up, trouble maker?” He asked, putting his face next to yours so he was in the frame, too.

“Do you have a tree and ornaments and stuff at your house or are you going to have to use ours?”

You felt him stiffen for a moment at your back for half a moment before responding.

“Not much point in decorating for just me,” he said. “But don’t care about the holidays much, anyway so it don’t matter.”

“You should get some ornaments and a stocking and shit,” she said.

“Ellie!” Elise scolded.

“And STUFF,” Ellie said. “I said stuff, Grandma!”

“No you didn’t,” you and Joel said at the same time.

“Traitors,” Ellie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you should bring some Christmas stuff,” Ellie stressed the word “and put it up with our stuff. You’re at our house all the time, anyway.”

Before you had a chance to intervene and force some of the professional distance Joel claimed to have wanted, he answered for you.

“Maybe, kid,” he said. “Don’t… don’t really have much of that kind of thing though.”

“We should head to bed over here,” Elise said, looping her arm around Ellie’s shoulders and giving you a soft smile. “It’s late. You’re taking care of yourself out there? Not stressing yourself too much?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” you smiled back. “And Big Miller here isn’t letting me out of his sight so no scary fans can come run off with me, promise.”

“Good,” she said. “Get some rest. We’ll talk to you tomorrow, honey.”

You said your goodbyes just as the car pulled up to the In ’n Out drive through.

“What do you want,” Joel said, reading the menu as you waited your turn.

“I’ll just order it myself,” you waved him off.

“No, you won’t,” he said. “Don’t need anyone recognizing your damn voice and calling the fuckin’ paparazzi…”

You snorted.

“That’s not a thing you need to worry about,” you said. “We’d be long gone before they showed up. It’s fine. And you’d just order it wrong. If I’m risking this damn costume not fitting tomorrow so I can eat tonight you’d better believe I’m getting what I want.”

He looked at you, his jaw clenched tight, but he still rolled down the window when you pulled up to the kiosk and you let Joel order first because it seemed like the nice thing to do. You had to lean over him to get closer to the window and he stiffened, sitting stock still as your front brushed against him.

“Hi!” You called brightly through the window. “Can I get a double double, protein style and animal style and fries with spread on the side and a Diet Coke?”

“Is that even food?” Joel asked once the man working the window repeated your order back to you.

You scoffed.

“It’s definitely food. And don’t be jealous when mine is better than yours,” you said. “I’m not sharing.”

You ignored Joel when he tried to yank you into the back seat, his hand closing around the waist of your yoga tights as you leaned between the front seat to get your food, the kid working the window gaping at you for a moment.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Oh my God,” he said, gaping at you.

“Is the spread in there?” You asked, holding up the bag.

“Uh,” he said, his eyes wide. “Yeah… yeah, it’s in there.”

“Awesome,” you smiled wider. “You’re the best. Thank you!”

“You about gave that kid a heart attack,” Joel said, opening his own bag and pulling out a French fry. “That famous face of yours is gonna get someone killed…”

“Ha ha,” you rolled your eyes. “And you’re not allowed to eat yet.”

“Dyin’ to know why not,” he said, popping the fry in his mouth anyway.

“Because you have to wait until we’re at the beach to eat it, that’s the rule,” you said before turning your attention to the driver. “Nearest beach, please. Not Santa Monica, that’ll be too busy by the pier.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

“No,” Joel snapped. “Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes,” you said.

“It’s not safe,” he said, leaning forward to talk to the driver. “Don’t listen to her, do not go to the beach.”

“It’s after dark and I want to see the ocean,” you said.

“It’s dangerous,” he growled.

“No one knows I’m going to be there,” you said, as calmly as you could. “No one is expecting me. It’s after dark, no one will be there trying to swim or sunbathe. This is the time to go.”

“You don’t need to go look at the damn water,” Joel said. “It’s water. Same as always.”

“I miss the beach,” you said, watching him closely. “Come on, Joel. I’m giving up enough, aren’t I? Can’t I have this? Just one little normal thing? Please?”

He watched you back for a moment, those brown eyes of his sharp at first but softening.

“You listen when we’re there,” he said eventually. “If anyone else is there, we leave. You don’t do anything reckless or dumb. We clear?”

“Crystal,” you smiled, practically giddy. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.”

“Better not do anything dumb,” he muttered, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest but not protesting any more.

The driver stopped in an empty lot, the horizon dark, the light of the city at your back, Santa Monica Pier bright in the distance. But this stretch of sand was empty of people, just the way you liked it. You looked to Joel all the same, eyebrows raised and one hand on the door handle.

He sighed.

“Go on.”

You couldn’t help but squeal a little, too excited for this little slice of normalcy to hold it in. You damn near threw the door open, all the exhaustion that had weighed you down fading enough that you ran, arms spread wide, toward the water.

The crash of the waves was loud, the air crisp and cool and laden with salt and the harsh tang of wet seaweed and rotting fish. You stopped just at the edge of the waves, the tide high, and whooped out into the night, to where the stars disappeared into the darkness, laughing as your voice faded to nothing in the distance.

“The hell are you doin’,” Joel said more than asked as he came up alongside you.

“Enjoying the ocean,” you said, breathless, watching the waves roll in for a moment, listening to them crash before looking at Joel smiling. “Why, do you do something besides yell at the water when you do it?”

He gave you a look that, even in the dim light of the city behind you and the pier in the distance and the moon overhead, you recognized as at least a little exasperated and you laughed.

“C’mon, Big Miller,” you teased, clapping him on the shoulder before traipsing back inland. “Let’s eat.”

You got the food from the car and you planted yourself down on the sand, midway between the parking lot and the water, taking off your shoes and burying your toes in the cool sand. Joel sat beside you, close enough that his elbow brushed yours when he moved. You got the burger out first and took a bite, giving a satisfied moan when you did, your stomach growling too.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you said, your mouth full. “I was hungrier than I realized.”

“Told you,” Joel said, smug, taking a bite of his own burger. “Shit, think I was, too.”

“You don’t have any damn excuse,” you said, taking another bite. “You can have all the craft services you want, you don’t have a costume that has very little stretch that was made from very precise measurements to fit into every day.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” he said.

“Suppose it does,” you said, balancing the burger on your knees to open the spread and dip a fry in it.

“So,” Joel said after a minute. “Why’d you want to come to the beach.”

You looked over at him, brows raised. He was staring determinedly ahead at the water as he took a sip of his drink.

“Do you really want to know?” You asked. “Or do you want leverage on me.”

He shrugged.

“Dunno what I could leverage on you about a fuckin’ beach.”

You laughed dryly.

“Suppose that’s true,” you looked at the water, too. “I used to come to the beach a lot when I was little. It’s about the only thing I remember from before I started working.”

You felt Joel’s eyes on you then but you kept looking straight ahead.

“Most people come to Los Angeles but I was from here,” you continued. “And yeah, I might be some rich asshole now but I wasn’t exactly born into money. I’m guessing my mom brought me here because she was flat broke and this was a free way to keep me occupied. But I remember sitting on the sand and eating those saltine crackers - the individually wrapped ones, like you get with soup at restaurants which is probably what she did, swiped them from work when she was waiting tables - and just watching the water and wondering how far my voice would travel if I yelled. I thought it might carry across the world when I was really little because there was nothing there to stop it… Anyway. I still like coming here, I miss it when I can’t. It makes me feel small.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Joel asked, his eyes still on you.

You looked at him then, at his uncommonly soft gaze, tracing the outline of his face with your eyes. You realized that you knew his face so well now, better than so many others. Even in the dark, you knew where the flecks of gray had started in his beard, knew that the creases would be less pronounced around his eyes right now because he wasn’t glaring at you.

“I think so,” you said softly, the waves crashing in their steady rhythm before you. “It’s nice to be reminded that, in the grand scheme of things, I’m actually quite insignificant.”

“Don’t think that’s true,” he said. “Think you’d always matter.”

You watched him for a moment, as though he was going to change his mind or take it back, but he didn’t.

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, looking back to the water and brushing the sand off your shins. “I guess it doesn’t really make much difference, does it?”

“Suppose not,” he said.

You put the paper wrappers and your empty cup in the bag and tucked it where you didn’t think it would blow away before looping your arms around your knees, taking a deep, centering breath.

“You ready for a lot more days like today?” You asked. “Standing around while I play dress up?”

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Can’t believe how many times they make you do the same damn thing again and again.”

You laughed.

“Yeah, that happens,” you said. “It’s gotta be pretty boring to watch from the outside.”

You more felt him shrug than saw him.

“Had more boring jobs.”

You kept watching the waves, the energy you had from just being at the beach slowly fading and the exhaustion for the day catching up with you and you leaned your head onto Joel’s shoulder. He stiffened for a moment but, before you moved away from him, he relaxed into you. He was calming, something sturdy about his presence, and he smelled clean and masculine and you had the oddest desire to nuzzle into his neck and breathe him in and commit that scent to memory.

“See why you like the beach,” he said eventually. “It’s… nice. Steady.”

You smiled a little.

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.”

You stayed like that for a while, until you were worried you were going to fall asleep on him and you went back to the car. On the drive home, you fought to keep your eyes open but failed, your head finding the warm comfort of his broad shoulders once again and you drifted off to the steady cadence of his breathing as the world went by outside your window.

***

He shouldn’t allow this.

He knew better. He did. But as you leaned against his side, your head on his shoulder, he slumped down further in his seat so you stayed in that place pressed into him, the artificial scent of hair spray and makeup remover mixing with sand and the salt of the water and your sweat.

He fucking knew better. This was stupid. Arguably one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. He didn’t want to be attached to you. He definitely didn’t want to get any more attached than he already was. He didn’t want to know what your fucking hair smelled like or how soft your skin was or how your body felt when it relaxed against his own.

But.

But you were there. You were close and protected and had unconsciously found comfort in him in a way no one had done in so, so long and he hated how much he enjoyed that. He liked you close, wanted you close. He felt calm, sure when you were close.

This was stupid but he wasn’t sure how to stop it. It felt like when he was a kid, running down a steep hill at full speed and he knew that even if he stopped putting one foot in front of the other he would keep careening toward the bottom, not able to control it.

He felt it when he was with you on the plane and you were groggy and he stopped the flight attendant from waking you to offer you breakfast or a drink because you needed the rest and instead kept the fruit and the granola bar and gave them to you when you woke. He felt it when he saw you in that damn costume, as if the fucking leggings and sports bras weren’t bad enough, you dressed in something made for you - designed to make you look powerful and beautiful and strong - made his heart stutter in his chest. He felt it when he watched your costar touch you in the ways he wanted to touch you. He tried to shove that urge down deep, tried to keep from breaking his damn jaw from clenching it so hard as he watched you work.

And now you were asleep against him, relaxed and soft. He should stop it, he knew that, but he couldn’t.

You didn’t wake as the car came to a stop in your driveway, you didn’t even stir.

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging you gently. “C’mon, we’re home.”

Your face scrunched but you just pressed closer to him.

“Hey,” he said again, giving you a little shake. “Gotta get you inside.”

You didn’t respond at all that time and, as good an actress as you might be, Joel could tell you weren’t faking. Back when he thought you were nothing more than a spoiled brat, he’d be frustrated by it but he knew better now. You’d been traveling since 3 a.m. local time, been going non-stop since you were on the ground and it was after 10 now. Joel had gotten to sit there and watch you work all day - the contained space of the movie studio making his job easier than he was used to - and he was pretty damn tired. It was no wonder you were exhausted.

Joel sighed.

“Alright, hang on,” he said to himself far more than to you.

He carefully arranged you so you wouldn’t fall over without him to lean on and slowly, delicately, got out of the car before gingerly pulling you against his body. He tucked your head into his shoulder, one arm going behind your back and below your arms, the other looping beneath your knees. You groaned a little in your sleep, your eyebrows knitting together, but you just nuzzled closer to him, your fingers looping around the collar of his shirt and tangling in the fabric to hold him close.

Dominic, one of the guards at your front door who had been on your detail the last time you were in LA, smirked a little as he opened the door for Joel.

“Shut up,” Joel muttered as he carried you inside.

“Didn’t say a thing,” Dominic said.

Joel carried you to your room, the lamp on your nightstand on when he got there and set you softly on the bed. He carefully removed your shoes and tugged the knit throw draped over the foot of your bed up and over you. You smiled in your sleep, face content and relaxed, and he let himself pretend, for a moment, that that look was for him. He watched you from that reality, one where he didn’t manage to destroy everything he ever cared for, one where he was worthy of your peace and quiet spaces, but stopped himself before he got lost there, in that world that wasn’t for him. He went to turn off the lamp but paused for a moment, looking at a photo on your bedside table.

In any other context, with any other person, it wouldn’t have been anything extraordinary. It was you, Anna, Elise and Ellie at Disneyland. Ellie couldn’t have been more than seven, a gap in her smile as the four of you posed in front of the castle. Your arm was around her front to pull her back against you and Anna’s head was on your shoulder and Elise was beaming on the other side of you. But the best part was you in the middle of it all. You looked… normal. Still so beautiful he was sure people would be staring at you even if you weren’t famous but your skin was shiny with sweat, a pair of sunglasses tucked into the neck of your tank top, cutoff shorts and tennis shoes and Mickey Mouse ears on like you were just any other person. If you’d started the day in makeup it was long gone by the time this picture was taken but you didn’t seem to care. You looked happy. So fucking happy, in a way Joel was sure he hadn’t seen before, like this was all you wanted in the world. Not the movie premieres and awards shows but this, being next to the people you loved, giving your niece something she wanted.

Something about that gave Joel a lump in his throat. That, when it came down to it, the thing you really wanted was probably the same thing he did - more time with someone who was gone.

He tucked the blanket in tighter around you and tried not to think about the disturbingly human version of you that he left behind in your bed when he went to his own.

“Did you put me to bed last night?” You asked by way of greeting the next morning, sitting in your kitchen with a cup of coffee in your hand when Joel got up for the day.

Joel shrugged, getting himself a mug and going for the coffee pot.

“You could have woken me up, you know,” you said, a teasing edge to your voice.

“Tried that,” he replied. “You weren’t movin’. Couldn’t just let you sleep in the car all night, not safe.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t need to haul my ass around today,” you said. “But… thanks.”

“Sure,” he said again. “But… it was fine. Didn’t mind.”

You smiled a little and tried to hide it behind your mug and Joel tried to ignore the way his chest swelled a little when you did, when you gave him some indication that you liked him looking out for you.

That day was more of the same, Joel sitting on a movie set and not fully understanding what was happening, watching you in that perfectly fitted fucking costume as you ran and jumped and threw punches and flew with your all-too-handsome costar pressed tight to your side. He tried to get used to it, to watching you work while he sat on his ass, to seeing you touch someone else in that soft and tender way without a spark of jealousy catching in him.

It was the same the next day, too, and the day after that and Joel was starting to wonder how long you could really keep going at this pace. They had you getting to set at six in the goddamn morning, in hair and makeup and costuming until close to nine and then you were shooting until close to nine at night, often with nothing but a smoothie or fucking Diet Coke in between.

“Acting is… harder than I thought it’d be,” Joel said one day on the ride back to your house.

“It can be a hard job,” you said with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m very lucky to do what I do and I love acting but yeah, it can absolutely kick your ass some days.”

“Good to know you earn that damn paycheck at least,” he said dryly.

You laughed.

“Always happy to have your seal of approval, Big Miller.”

He was relieved when things relaxed on Thursday, you apparently having meetings at the studio half the day and you didn’t move from your room for so long that Joel was starting to worry. But, eventually, you emerged, looking almost oddly polished and professional with dark jeans and a turtleneck and a blazer on.

“Starting to think you died,” Joel said dryly from his place on the couch.

You smiled a little.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said. “Just tired, needed to catch up on sleep.”

“Can’t blame you,” Joel muttered. “Seems like that director is bound and determined to work you to death.”

You shrugged.

“I did ask them to try and squeeze as much filming into a day as possible,” you said. “I don’t want to be away from Ellie for too long. This whole process is going to be tricky when we start shooting with the whole cast next month, we’re just trying to knock out what we can now because we can.”

“Still,” Joel said. “Can’t make a movie if you drop dead from exhaustion.”

“Aw, Big Miller,” you smirked a little. “Look at you, caring. Who knew you had it in you?”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket. “Before this all goes to your damn head…”

He tried to ignore the pleased little smile on your face on the drive to the studio offices, the sunlight through the tinted windows almost making your skin glow.

Joel stayed closer to you than usual as the two of you headed into the skyscraper in Burbank, this space less contained than the studio lot. It looked so much like a regular office building it was a little disconcerting and he felt distinctly out of place here, especially with you because you were out of place here, too.

Not in the way he was, of course. Joel had never been under the misplaced assumption that he would one day work in a building like this one. This world was different than the one he occupied, he would never be anything more than an interloper among powerful people who dominated the corporate world and made more money than he could even dream of. But you were on the opposite side of the spectrum, so far apart from him that you may as well have been a different species. Things as mundane as a business meeting and an office building seemed so far below you - though, at least, this place seemed to realize that.

A young woman met you at the front door, handing you an iced coffee and ushering you quickly through a turnstile and to an elevator without you needing to talk to anyone or pass through a metal detector like the other mortals that were coming and going from here.

“Do you know your way from here?” She asked as the elevator neared its destination.

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled. “I appreciate your help.”

“Of course,” she said as the door chimed and opened. “Please let me know if I can get you anything else.”

Quinn met you at the elevator doors, which opened onto another lobby - one much more opulent than the one downstairs, looking more like a luxury hotel than an office building.

“We just need to get a few things nailed down,” she said, you and her talking low as Joel trailed along behind you to an office with a secretary waiting out front.

“I think you’re safe to wait out here,” you said when Joel went to follow you inside. “Don’t think there are any big bad monsters lying in wait for me up here.”

“Probably right,” Joel said and you gasped.

“Joel Miller, admitting that I’m correct? I’m shocked!”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, resisting the urge to smile as he watched you head into some oversized office with some overpaid executive before settling in to wait.

He tried to soothe his unease at there being a wall between you in a place he didn’t know by being alert, his arms crossed over his chest, body tense. He could just see some of the lobby outside through the glass in the door and he caught a glimpse of the jackass producer you’d dated in the past, the one who was far too old for you as he went walking past. He tightened his jaw.

Eventually, you and Quinn came back out, some man Joel hadn’t met before following behind.

“Looking forward to sharing this with the world,” he said, offering you his hand.

“You and me both,” you smiled, taking it as Joel looked the man up and down. But you weren’t stiff and uncomfortable like you’d been in the past, instead seeming much more like yourself.

“Seemed like that went well,” Joel said, following you and Quinn back to the lobby.

“It did,” you smiled a little, looking back over your shoulder to him. “Believe it or not, not everything in this town is dramatic.”

Joel snorted.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

The three of you were headed for the elevators again when you stopped, looking at a woman and a man talking in two arm chairs not far away.

“Margie?” You said and the woman looked up, blinking in surprise at you before smiling hugely. You smiled back and headed for her, Joel and Quinn trailing behind you. It took him a moment to place the woman and then he recognized her, the mother of the girl who was playing the younger version of you in Savage Starlight. “Hey, how are you! What brings you out here?”

“Oh, we just had some meetings today,” she said, standing so she was on your level, looking a little star struck.

“Yeah?” You smiled. “Is Catherine here? In talks for another role? I’m not surprised if she is, she’s very talented.”

“Kind of,” Margie said. “Henry Wilde said he wanted to meet her, can you believe that? She’s in with him right now, we’re just…”

Joel felt you stiffen, watched the smile slip off your face.

“She’s with him now?” You asked, all the warmth gone from your voice. “Alone?”

Margie’s face fell, too.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is, what…”

You and Quinn exchanged a quick look.

“Go,” she said and you gave Joel a look, almost pleading, before starting toward another door off the lobby.

Joel followed at your heels. In any other circumstance, he’d have stopped you, pulled you back and demanded to know what the hell it was you thought you were doing but he had a feeling about this, one that made his stomach turn.

You shoved the door open and the secretary jumped to her feet, her eyes wide, you not even slowing down as you stalked past her.

“Mr. Wilde is busy right now,” she said. “You can’t just…”

“Oh I bet he is,” you said, going to the other door and giving it a sharp shove. It didn’t budge.

“Like I said,” the secretary said again, sharper this time and standing next to you and Joel. “Mr. Wilde is in a meeting and is not to be disturbed.”

“Oh, I think I can disturb him all I want,” you said, stepping back from the door and looking to Joel. “Do me a favor and open that for me, would you?”

There was something about the look in your eyes, something sharp and earnest and vulnerable, that made him just obey, bracing his shoulder and forcing the door open with a crack.

He stumbled into the room, a huge office with floor to ceiling windows along the back with a desk in the middle of them. Wilde’s head shot up and Catherine jumped from her seat opposite him, her eyes wide.

“What the…”

“Henry!” You swept in behind Joel, back straight and head high, something almost intimidating about you when you did. Joel followed close behind you and you stopped next to Catherine’s chair. “Been a while.”

Joel watched the man behind the desk, ready to move for him, but he just shook his head a little before getting to his feet.

“Too long,” he said.

“Mr. Wilde,” the secretary ran in, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, I tried to stop them, but…”

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “Why don’t you take Miss Ford here back to her mother and her agent, we were just finishing up anyway. Give us some space to chat, would you?”

“Of course,” she said. “Miss Ford, why don’t you come with me?”

“But…” Catherine looked between you and Wilde. Your eyes were raking over her, again and again, like you were looking for something.

“It was lovely to chat with you,” Wilde said. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Go see your mom,” you said, a tight smile on your face that didn’t reach your eyes. “Stick close with her, OK?”

“OK,” she said cautiously, watching you for a moment before going to the secretary and doing as she was told.

You watched Catherine and the secretary leave, waiting until you heard the outer office door close before turning your attention back to Wilde.

“That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” He asked, coming around his desk and standing close enough to you that it made Joel stiffen. “You know if you want to see me all you have to do is ask.”

“You and I both know that I want absolutely nothing to do with you,” you snapped, your voice so much sharper than Joel was used to hearing it when you spoke to anyone else. Even when you were harsh with him, there was an undercurrent of your typical teasing edge to it or, at least, hurt. This was hateful, pure vitriol, and it felt earned.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true at all,” he smirked. “Why else would you come bursting in here?”

“Because I am not about to let you sink your fangs into that little girl,” you said through gritted teeth, eyes flashing.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do,” you said. “You know exactly what I mean. I know exactly who you are, Henry. I know exactly what you do and you will not do it to that girl, do you understand me?”

“I think you forget which of us is in charge here,” he said, his face shifting. He wasn’t amused anymore, he was angry. Joel stiffened. “Maybe you need a reminder but I fucking own you, sweetheart.”

“Not anymore you don’t,” you said, holding your ground.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “You’d be nothing without me and I could fucking bury you without even trying…”

“Could you?” You cut him off. “Because I remember you trying that before and here I am, the most bankable fucking star in this goddamn town. You think I’d just disappear quietly? That you can intimidate me? I’m not a kid you can push around anymore, Henry, I’m not a fucking Barbie you can play dress up with I’m an entire goddamn industry and I will burn you to the fucking ground if you lay a finger on that girl.”

“You couldn’t shove me out before,” he sneered. “Do you really think you could do it now? Some stupid girl who’s barely got a fucking high school diploma and you think you can push me around? I could buy and sell you 100 times over, sweetheart, and…”

“And no one outside this fucking city knows your name,” you said, chin out. “Go after her and I will eviscerate you in the press, I’ll spill all your dirtiest little secrets.”

“And take yourself down with me?” He asked, brows raised. “I don’t think so.”

“What’s that they say about a woman scorned?” You asked. “Don’t try me, Henry. The entire world cares what I have to say. Do you think they give a shit about some old man who sits behind a desk?”

He just narrowed his eyes at you and you smirked.

“That’s what I thought,” you said. “She’s under my protection, understood? You will stay the fuck away from her or you’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go. And I hear about you taking your little one on one meetings with other girls? I will burn you down.”

You turned to leave but Wilde grabbed your arm, yanking you back hard enough that it made you stumble and something inside Joel snapped.

He moved quickly, putting his body between you and the other man. Wilde’s eyes went wide and Joel grabbed his arm, wrenching it away from yours before shoving him back.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” Joel growled, pressing in closer to the man, forcing him to back up until he was pressed against the window.

He watched Wilde’s expression shift from shock to righteous indignation.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with, son,” he said. “I recommend you step back and let your client and myself handle this.”

“You put a hand on her,” Joel said, the strangely foreign yet familiar heat of rage roiling beneath his skin. He had to fight to not put this fucker through the window. “My job to take that hand off. Whether it’s just off her or off you, too, is your choice.”

“I pay your fucking salary,” he tried to shove Joel and failed, his hands all but bouncing off Joel’s chest in a way that would be comical if Joel wasn’t so ready to put him in the ground. Joel shoved his arm into Wilde’s throat, pinning him to the window.

“Pretty sure it ain’t your name on my goddamn check,” Joel said. “And even if it were, I’m paid to keep her safe from threats. You’re a threat. Try that shit again and you’ll see just why I got the job I do.”

Joel stepped back, letting the other man stumble forward before he turned to look at you.

“You alright?” He asked. You nodded once, your hand covering your elbow where Wilde’s hand had just been. “Good. You done here?”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Wilde as he straightened his blazer. “I’m done.”

Joel just gave you a nod and he put his hand on the small of your back as you headed back toward the lobby.

The second you were out the door, your breathing picked up, panicked and trembling.

“You’re OK,” Joel said quietly, guiding you quickly for the elevator and looking back over his shoulder to make sure Wilde wasn’t following. “Just keep moving, I’ve got you.”

You nodded quickly and Joel pushed the call button, thankful the elevator doors opened almost immediately. He ushered you inside and pushed the button for the ground floor but, as soon as it started to move he pulled the emergency stop and turned to face you, your eyes wide, hands trembling.

“What…” your voice trailed off, breaths still coming in scared little pants.

“Think you’re having a panic attack,” Joel said. “Or somethin’ like it, anyway. Bought us some time so none of those assholes see it happening, just take a deep breath for me Siren, alright?”

You nodded quickly and closed your eyes, taking a shuddering but deep breath.

“There you go,” he said gently. “You’re doing good baby, hold that for a second.”

You nodded, clenching your eyes shut tighter but obeying all the same. Joel counted for a few seconds.

“Alright, let it out nice and slow,” he said. “Focus on it, get all the air out.”

You obeyed, not shaking quite as badly now.

“Good,” he said when you finished. “Again, in, deep and slow.”

He guided you through it a few more times until your trembling stilled and your eyes opened again, looking at him all open and honest.

“You OK?” He asked, reaching out and cupping your cheek before he could stop himself. You nodded into his palm. “Ready to see other people?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath again. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You got any other meetings today?” Joel asked gently.

“Um,” you closed your eyes for a moment, brows knitting together in concentration before you opened them again. “Just Quinn and Leo but…”

“Think they’ll let you cancel?” Joel asked. His hand was still on your skin and his heart was racing. “So we can get you home?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, Quinn will understand, she… she knows.”

“OK,” Joel said. He knew he should take his hand back but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Your eyes stayed locked on his and he felt a pull at the root of him, a drive to bring your body against his own and press his lips to yours. He tried to shake that feeling as you leaned into him but he couldn’t, he just forced himself to stand stock still as you moved to be against him, your face tucking below his chin and burying in his shirt. He moved slowly, cautiously, to hold you, your body warm and soft against him. Joel cradled you there, focusing on you, trying to ignore the feeling that you weren’t quite close enough.

After what felt like no time at all you stepped back, giving your head a small shake and taking another deep breath.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, staring at his chest instead of really looking at him. “You didn’t have to do that and… thank you.”

“Sure,” Joel said gruffly before reaching around you to start the elevator again.

By the time the two of you reached the ground floor, you looked like yourself again, a sense of power in you when the doors slid open. Quinn was waiting for you, looking you up and down.

“All good?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Catherine make it down OK?”

“Yeah,” Quinn nodded. “We’ve got her, she’s fine.”

“Good,” you said. “Are they still here?”

“No,” Quinn said. “I sent them home…”

“What did you say?” You frowned, brows drawing together.

“Nothing extreme,” Quinn said quickly, her eyes darting to Joel. “I told Margie to never let Catherine take a meeting alone, ever. She’s talented, there are a lot of people who might want to not give her what’s she’s due, she needs to have representation.”

“Good,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “OK. If it’s alright with you, can we push our…”

“Of course,” Quinn said quickly. “I’ll talk to Leo. You get home, take a hot bath, just… take it easy. I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah,” you smiled tightly at her before pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you.”

You were silent on the drive home, staring determinedly out the window, your hand over your mouth the entire way, the presence of the driver forcing him to bite his tongue. When you got there, you didn’t wait for Joel to come around and open your door, instead jumping out the second the car stopped and, normally, he’d yell at you for that. It was reckless and stupid and your total lack of care for your own safety drove him insane but, this time, he just followed after you.

“Hey,” he said gently once you were both inside.

“Thanks for your help, Joel,” you said, rushing past him you toward your room. “I appreciate it.”

He sighed, watching you leave, wishing there was something he could do to help you even if he didn’t fully understand what he wanted to help you with.

But he couldn’t bring himself to hide in his room the way he so often did where you were involved. Instead, he hovered in the main part of the house, hoping that you’d come out.

He tried to tell himself it was because he needed to know if you were alright for professional purposes. The convention was tomorrow. If you weren’t going, he’d need to know. If you were, he’d need to know how likely it was that you’d do something reckless, whether or not you’d remember emergency procedure, if you would pay close enough attention to know when something odd happened. That was an acceptable reason for his concern. Not that he could admit the real one even to himself.

It was late when he started debating stretching out on the couch so he would hear you if you got up in the night when you appeared, in an oversized robe and bare feet and you startled then when you saw him. There was something keenly vulnerable about you like this, an odd intimacy in your dewy skin and open expression.

“Joel,” you said quietly, your hand covering your heart. “Sorry, I…”

“You really apologizing for being in your own house?” He asked, brows raised.

You smiled a little and laughed once.

“I guess so,” you said, crossing your arms, looking a little more like yourself when you did. “You’re up late.”

He shrugged.

“So are you.”

“Yeah, well…” you looked down at your feet for a moment. “I was going to eat something…”

“It alright if I join you?” He asked before he could stop himself.

“Of course,” you said, meeting his eyes and giving him a tight smile.

He trailed behind you to the kitchen and worked silently alongside you, taking your unspoken direction as you pulled deli meat and cheese and vegetables out of the fridge, piling them on the counter. He even followed you to the pantry, where you got out bread and chips and then froze, a bag dangling from your hand. You were staring at your Oscar where it still sat from the last time you were in town, tucked away at the back of a shelf.

“C’mon,” Joel said, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder and you let him guide you back to the counter.

He watched you out of the corner of his eye as you made a sandwich, almost overly focused on the process of spreading mustard on bread and layering it with turkey and lettuce and sliced tomato. When you were done, you put some carrots on your plate, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat at the bar. But you just stared down at your plate more than anything else, pushing a carrot from side to side and watching it roll. Joel finished making his sandwich and sat beside you. He took a bite - more out of pretense than anything else - before finally looking at you.

“Wanna talk about it,” he said more than asked.

“Not especially,” you replied, pushing the carrot again, watching it wobble on the china.

He was quiet for a moment.

“Meant what I said when I told you I’d protect you, even from him,” Joel said eventually.

You stared at the plate.

“I know,” you said.

“Helps when I know what I’m protecting you from,” he said.

You looked at him then, with that sharp and exacting gaze of yours, like you were seeing through everything to the core of him. All the walls that had built up after the loss of his child, all the protection he’d put into place the first time he met you, all of it meant nothing now.

You looked down at your plate again, your hands drawing into tight fists, the flesh straining over the bone of your knuckles.

“Everything they say about me is true,” you said, your voice thick.

Joel frowned.

“What do…”

“That I fucked my way to the top,” you said. “That I wouldn’t be where I was if I didn’t spread my fucking legs, it’s all true.”

Joel was silent, his jaw clenched tight and you laughed bitterly.

“It’s not because I wanted to,” you said, still staring at your food. “You can judge me all you want, I don’t care, but I didn’t have much choice. I owed a lot of people a lot of money and the only way I could get the job that would pay me enough to take care of it was…”

Your voice trailed off and Joel frowned.

“Owed…” he paused. “Do you mean when… when you were a kid, when your mother…”

“Yeah,” you said, clenching your fist tighter, and Joel’s stomach turned. You finally looked at him then, your eyes wide, a desperate, pleading edge to them. “I made a trade. I did what I had to do. But I know what it’s like to be a teenaged girl in a world full of men and I know what it’s like when the only bargaining chip you have is between your thighs and I know what it’s like to be backed into a fucking corner by Henry fucking Wilde and I will not let that happen to that girl, I don’t care if it’s the last thing I fucking do.”

“Did you tell anybody?” Joel asked weakly, searching your face.

“Who was there to tell?” You asked, brows raised. “I didn’t even fully understand what happened until years later, after we dated because I was stupid enough to pretend like there was something romantic about it. I kept telling myself that he must have really loved me to have wanted me then. But really all he wanted was someone young, someone he could control and when I stopped letting him control me after the Oscars… When we broke up I very famously fucked half of Hollywood while I got dropped by my manager and my agent and no one would touch me with a 10-foot-pole because he controlled all of it, they all answered to him. It would have been my word against his, the impulsive, entitled starlet crashing out because her powerful boyfriend broke up with her. No one would have believed me.

“If it wasn’t for Quinn just getting started and clawing her way up from nothing and desperate to take on a client, I never would have worked again. No one would represent me, no one wanted to work with me. She got me Siren and I took a lot of shit on that fucking job but it was a job. It helped me stay relevant while everything else blew over. It’s not like I could do anything else because Henry was right about that, too. It’s not like I went to college, the degree I have barely even counts as a high school diploma. I’m not sure I could have gotten a job at McDonalds back then. This is all I know how to do.”

You looked back at your plate and took a deep, shaky breath.

“I hate that I put Catherine in his orbit. I hate that he’s on this fucking movie,” you said softly. “I hate having to answer to him again. I have a lot more power now than I did before but… He’s right. He owns me.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Joel said and you looked at him. “He can want to all he damn well pleases but that don’t make it true. May not have known you very long but I know this much about you: No one owns you but you.”

You laughed a little and sighed.

“He must have something on me that I’m forgetting about,” you said. “Something in his back pocket that he’s ready to make public and burn me down. I don’t think he will now that he’s producing Savage Starlight - at least not right this minute - but just the thought that he’s sitting there, ready to destroy my life…”

Joel shrugged.

“Fuck ‘em,” he said. You frowned at him. “It’d be shit but you’d have Ellie and Elise and…” He trailed off. “You’d have the shit that matters is what I’m saying. And if that fucker ever touches you again, I’m gonna put him on his ass.”

You smiled, laughing darkly, before sighing and leaning into him, catching him off guard. You were between his legs, your head nuzzled into his shoulder, the warmth of your breath on his throat. He swallowed, a knot in his throat, and put his arms around you.

“I think you were brave for doin’ what you did,” he said quietly. “Catherine… she’s lucky she has you. I’m sorry you didn’t have that when you were her age. You deserved better than you got.”

“Thanks,” you said softly. “That… that means a lot.”

He held you like that for a while before you sat up from him, taking a drink of your water, and Joel watched for a moment as you took a bite of your sandwich before he, eventually, ate alongside you in silence. When you were done, you went to put your dish in the dishwasher but he stopped you.

“I got it,” he said and you frowned. “You had a shit day. I can… S’fine.”

“Thanks,” you smiled tightly at him. “I… Thanks for not… Thanks for treating me like a person about it. Not everyone would.”

He just nodded slowly.

“Course. See you in the morning, Siren.”

“See you in the morning, Big Miller.”

He watched you go and sat there on his own in silence, trying not to linger on what you’d told him. He cleaned up your kitchen and, before going to his room, he went to the pantry and picked up your Oscar. He had to do something to take care of you, he couldn’t help it. The trophy was heavy in his hand and he carried it to his room, tucking it at the back of the closet where he could protect you from having to see it again.

A/N: Joel and Siren are getting closer! If Joel's not careful he's going to realize that she's a real person he's got feelings for and not some ethereal being who is so far out of reach she may as well be an alien and who KNOWS what'll happen then 👀

Thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying reading these two as much as I've enjoyed writing them.

Love you!

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#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #tsats #the savage and the sanctuary #bodyguard!joel #bodyguard au

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