#joel miller loves ellie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

macfrog · 4 months ago

Note

I miss our beloved scom family. How are they doing this fine day?

god, i miss them too. here's what they probably got up to today.

something blue 3.6k words | series masterlist warnings: y'all know the drill: being a mom.

Sarah leads Ellie, the way she always does, into the kitchen at seven a.m. sharp.

She stops by Joel first, squeezes into his size at the counter, and pushes onto her tiptoes. When he sidesteps to let her see (even though he point-blank refused to let you), she wraps two arms tight around her sister and hoists her up.

“Pancakes!” the three-year-old squeals, and loses her grip on her plastic dinosaur. He falls headfirst into the counter.

“Shh!” Sarah hisses, slinging Joel a disgruntled look. She sighs and swipes the T-Rex from his hand.

“The heck you lookin’ at me for?” he grumbles.

The girls eye you the entire walk over to the table. One as suspicious as the other. Sarah moves smooth, floats over to her spot with her chin skyward.

Ellie thumps at her heels, staring you down and almost stumbling into a chair.

“Careful, Nel,” you whisper, and her poker face cracks. You turn to Sarah. “I know it’s pancakes. It’s the only thing your dad ever figured out how not to burn.”

Joel’s shoulders jump. He swallows the laugh in his chest and says nothing.

Ellie sucks the chocolate clean from her dinosaur’s head. Last week, she decided his name was Bill. You, Joel, and Sarah are still trying to figure out where the hell she came up with it. Whoever he’s named after, she doesn’t like him much – not with the rate she lobs him around.

Kid’s an enigma. She suits it just fine.

She stares at you, still, as Sarah helps her up into her chair. Judders forward with each shove under the table. Comical, the two of them; like Pinky and the fucking Brain, you once told Joel – though you’re still not sure who’s who.

Your eyes drop to a stain on the toddler’s outfit. “You want me to wash that yet, Gagarin?”

She looks down. An arm swishes up to dab at the tangerine splotch. She grins, amused with herself, and shoves the dino back between her gums.

Sarah shakes her head. She turns back to you and flashes a trademark Joel frown. Eight years old and somehow, she manages to encapsulate the same fifty-six-year-old, unimpressed glower.

“Nel,” she turns, uttering between teeth, “You can’t wear dirty clothes today, remember?”

“I don’t think spacesuits are allowed at preschool,” you sigh as you push yourself up. “Much too sophisticated – huh, baby girl?”

Ellie giggles and flings her arms to the ceiling, sending Bill in a somersault across the table. She’s in nothing but pull-ups underneath the onesie – although it’s rare for her to ever be in much more than her pull-ups and, usually, one loose sock.

The suit means she’s feeling fancy. But what the fuck for?

All of Sarah’s leftover chaos, the magic she left in your veins after she was born, seems to have poured into her little sister. Smaller, mightier – more reckless, but not half as savvy.

Rarely seen without one of her prehistoric pals in her fist; evidence of what she had for lunch smeared around her lips. Chasing after Sarah, after Shimmer, after a butterfly that found itself trapped in her bedroom last month.

She scaled a chest of drawers trying to reach it. Joel caught her just in time. Some nights in bed, you can still feel his heart pounding from the scare she gave him.

Chalk and cheese. Sarah and Ellie. The former calm, composed. Candid and levelheaded, book smart and (alarmingly) wise beyond her years.

The latter – well.

It’s her first time on the planet, too, you try to remember.

You wander over to the washer, tossing the suit into the drum. You dig an elbow into Joel’s side and he flinches.

“Can I see yet?”

He turns, shielding whatever’s in front of him with a wide shoulder. “Not yet, baby. Not done.”

“You’re taking fuckin’ forever,” you mumble, pressing the words into his shoulder blade. From the corner of your eye, you watch the girls babbling to each other, scratching Shimmer between her floppy ears.

Joel twists, still hiding with his hands, and dots a tiny kiss on the tip of your nose. He smells like coffee and toothpaste. It still dizzies you every time he’s near enough for you to breathe it in.

“I’m almost done. Promise.”

You steal a kiss from his lips and smirk, stepping away. “Okay,” your eyes drift down to the counter, “If you say s…Alphabet sprinkles?”

His jaw slackens, moves like a bubbling fish. “Uh – they’re for – they’re for somethin’…Duck?” he clears his throat, “Tell your mom what they’re for, would ya?”

Sarah freezes. She stammers just like her dad. She does a lot just like him.

“A…a…a school project,” she says, and stares down at the dog.

“A – a – a school project?”

Your daughter nods. Still fixed on the smudges of sable around Shimmer’s eyes. “Bake sale.”

“You never told me about any bake sale,” you cross your arms, “What’d you make?”

She’s quick as lightning. “Cupcakes. But we haven’t made ‘em yet. Tonight, right, Dad?”

Joel’s voice is hoarse with panic. “Tonight,” he rasps.

You lean back against the counter, eyes shifting to the right. A different tactic. A rogue tactic, that’s for sure, but she has her moments. “…Nel?”

Your youngest looks up from her belly button.

“Not Nel,” Joel pleads, catching your eye for half a second.

“Why not Nel?”

His voice drops. “That kid would spill a state secret if you dangled a marshmallow in front of her.”

You tsk. “That’s mean. And wrong, anyways. The reason they have state secrets is ‘cause of kids like her. We should be proud, Miller.”

Ellie’s clutching the dinosaur when you look back over, chewing on his tail. She blinks back, and you wonder if there’s anything other than mastermind plans of mischief behind her eyes.

Joel says she has the same look in her eye that you do. Like you’re in on something the rest of the world has yet to catch up on. Twins, from the moment she stumbled ass over foot out of your body.

She talks just like you, and acts just like you, and – some nights, chatting sleepy gibberish under the slow turn of her rocket ship nightlight – you figure she must think just like you, too.

The perfect little riot.

Joel nudges you away, whispering, “Go on,” and you snicker, pushing off.

The sun combs through the room, glinting off cutlery and radiating from your daughters’ smiles. They chat and giggle and kick their feet; Sarah blows raspberries and Ellie sprays saliva all over the table when she tries to copy.

This is life, now.

You used to wake up to a silent house, sip your coffee and watch the oven clock count down the minutes until you had to leave for work.

You used to keep the radio on, even when you were out back – just to feel like someone was home with you. You used to sing to yourself as you flicked every light off at the end of the night.

Now, the laughter lives in the walls. It echoes even when you’re home alone. The oven clock counts down until there’s another pair of smaller hands in yours; until your man’s arms are back around your waist where they belong.

Come nightfall, you pluck odd socks and toy cars from under the couch. You tuck your children into bed, nuzzle your nose into their cheeks. You curl up beside Joel and trace shapes into his palm.

I love you, you write, some nights.

Dickhead, on others.

It takes a village, they all say. And sure, sometimes it does.

Sometimes, though, all it takes is two neighbors, a handshake deal, and a little bump named Duck.

“Woah, Nellie,” Joel chuckles, setting the first plate down. He clicks his teeth and taps a light knuckle on the girls’ hands, locked in a death grip. “Play nice. I got yours here, too, kiddo.”

Ellie straightens immediately. She watches, eyes fixed and glasslike, as her own breakfast is presented to her. And then she breaks into a wide grin, cheeks swelling. Her heels thud thud thud on the legs of her chair.

You lean over, cocking your head to see.

Two stacks of fluffy pancakes – a healthy dollop of chocolate spread on Sarah’s, and Ellie’s drizzled in golden syrup. Shards of strawberry and slices of banana scattered over the towers; blobs of whipped cream like clouds.

And on top of each, in clumsy sprinkle letters: Duckie and Nellie.

Sarah grins, two front teeth brand new and beautiful. She picks up her cutlery and raps them against the table, a nervous jitter about her.

You realize, just as her eyes flicker across yours, that she’s not beaming at her pancakes.

You realize, as he sways over to your side, that she’s beaming at him.

He’s holding two more plates. He sets his own down, a messy crater carved into the chocolate.

Your brows pull. “What happened –?”

“Bill happened,” he scoffs, shooting Ellie daggers.

She’s too busy tearing her stack apart, mixing a paste from syrup and cooked batter. There are few things the kid loves more than food and mess – and nothing she loves more than both at the same time.

She looks out of her mind happy, smothering the glossy mixture all over her cheeks, chewing in contentment.

“Like ‘em?” Joel asks, and you glance up.

“Yeah,” you laugh, eyes welling, “I love them. What’s the occasion, Miller?”

“Just…” his head wobbles as he considers it, “…we wanted to ask you somethin’.”

You turn to Sarah.

She’s still smiling, wider than you’ve ever seen. So bright that you worry she might shatter the glassware on the table.

“We?” you ask, smiling much the same.

She gives nothing away, and yet, at the same time – everything. Her knee bounces with excitement. Her breathing quickens.

“You wanna read yours?” Joel asks, tilting the plate in his hand.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you sniff, “I’m scared.”

He lowers the plate.

The letters blur in and out of focus as you blink.

Red, green, yellow, pink. The second M is an upside-down W. The Rs lean into each other, chocolate pushing from the middle of the letters. A question mark crafted from a C and half of another letter.

Your lungs jump, though you knew it was coming. Though you’ve talked about it for months, now.

Let’s just get it outta the way, make it easier for the girls when we’re older. Few forms to fill out then it’s done. We don’t gotta make a big deal of it.

Can’t afford to make a big deal of it, anyway.

Wouldn’t want to make a big deal of it.

You’ve never been one for big deals.

This is a big deal. This is a big fucking deal, Joel.

All multicolored, flecks of whipped cream on them. Silly little alphabet letters.

Marry me?

Joel kneels as you swivel around to him. He kisses your cheek, takes your hands, rubs his thumbs across your knuckles.

“Look,” he says, voice trembling, “I know we said we wouldn’t make a big deal of it. But…you gotta let me make a big deal of it, honey. You gotta let me make a big deal of you.”

You laugh, tears spilling down the front of your shirt. Your heart is pounding, body alight with nerves or excitement or both, in one lightning bolt of feeling.

It’s everything you ever wanted, and nothing you ever expected.

“Everything I have –” Joel says, “– the kids, the house, the dog – I found it all with you. Because of you. I love you so much, and I can’t – I can’t take another minute that we’re not…”

His hands squeeze yours, and you swear you feel your pulses align. Beating together, two hearts on the same bassline.

He swipes the tears from your cheek, catches them in his palm. “…It don’t have to mean anything, I know that – but you, darlin’…you mean everything. What do you say we go do it?”

It’s the easiest thing in the world. And not just because you knew it was coming, knew to expect it soon enough.

Joel could’ve asked you the minute you found out you were pregnant with Sarah, and you reckon you would’ve said yes.

It’s easy. Loving him is so easy. Being with him is so fucking easy.

Coffee at sunrise, low volume TV in the bedroom. Skin and sheets, marks on your neck and chest and thighs. Laughter for breakfast, homework for dinner. Two bodies squeezing into one tiny shower cubicle, Joel’s hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles.

“Today,” you whisper, cupping his jaw. “I want to do it today.”

“Today?” his eyes flash over your shoulder to his daughters, “We gotta take the girls to –”

“No, we don’t,” your head shakes, “Do we have a marriage license?”

“Got it last week.”

“Then they come with. We get all dressed up, all four of us, and head down to the courthouse. We’re married by the end of the day.”

He laughs, loose and disbelieving. Shakes himself back into the room. “Today,” he repeats. “As in, right now?”

“Right now, baby.”

“Okay. Yeah, alright. Today.”

“Ask me.”

Joel’s cheeks lift. Tears disappear into his beard.

You lean forward, lining your forehead against his. “Ask me, Miller,” you whisper.

It’s no big deal. It’s a regular Wednesday. Packed lunches and dinosaurs with Nutella in their teeth.

It’s no big deal, but when he asks you, time stops.

“Will you marry me?”

“Fuck yeah, I will.”

Sarah takes forty-five minutes to apply your mascara, some powder, and a pink lip. She promises she’s being neat, and you tell her you don’t care – you’ll love it either way.

She says she knows, but she promises she is anyway.

Ellie curls up in your lap and twists your necklace around her fingers. She asks four times if her spacesuit is dry yet.

“Ellie,” Sarah warns – and you know it’s serious when she uses her sister’s real name – “You can’t wear a costume to a wedding.”

“Mama is!”

“No she ain’t! Brides are s’posed to wear white. Mama’s dress ain’t white. What you got on is fine,” she decides.

Ellie knows better than to keep arguing. She catches her heel in her hands, huffing. “Wanted to be an ass-traut.”

You catch Sarah’s eye. Don’t.

She bites her giggle.

“You are an astronaut,” you squeeze your toddler, “Our astronaut. Whether you’re in your spacesuit, or you got your big bare butt out for us all to see.”

She giggles into herself, a sound sweet enough to convince the sun to rise at dawn. Her baby teeth are small and wonky. She snorts, settles in your arms again, and watches Sarah lean in with the lipstick.

You lift your chin, holding steady. “Is Dad ready?”

She pauses, letting go of her breath. “He says he’s been ready the last half hour,” she mutters, and dabs more color on.

“Is he nervous?”

Her eyes lift. Eyelashes long and thick – black mascara that you made her pinkie swear she’d wipe clean the moment she gets home.

She smirks. It’s like looking in a mirror. “Are you?”

You press your lips together, blending the pink. “Little bit. You think that’s a good sign?”

“Mhm.”

Sarah straightens, capping the lipstick. She smiles at her masterpiece. “You look beautiful, Mama.”

“Well,” your chest fills, “I’m only beautiful ‘cause you made me that way, Duck.”

Joel’s voice sails upstairs and into the little pink room.

“Courthouse is closin’, sun’s almost down, they’re diggin’ my damn grave already. Are we good to go, or what?”

Sarah grins and leaps over an upturned toybox in the middle of her room. She pirouettes out to the landing, pursing and then smacking her lips together.

You fix Ellie’s skirt and lead her out after her sister. “’s go, Nellie.”

“Mama,” she tugs at the fabric, “I gotta…Need…need…”

“Shit,” you whisper, watching the ballerina twirl downstairs to her dad. “Uh…Duckie?”

“Hi, pretty Duck,” Joel calls, catching her in his arms. He spins her around and the skirt of her dress billows.

Her little heels click when he lets her down. She keeps on spinning, watching herself in the mirror.

“Baby?” Joel calls. “Y’all ready?”

“Nel’s gotta go!” you reply.

He scoffs. “She nervous or som’?”

“Or som’,” you sigh, walking the kid into the bathroom.

Ellie takes about as long as a three-year-old should, to be fair to her. It requires an amount of determination that right now, neither of you have the focus to lend it. Potty training doesn’t wait up, even for weddings.

Eventually, she announces with a triumphant shout that she’s done, Mama! – and claps her hands as the toilet flushes.

You carry her downstairs, heels clunking on the solid wood. At the bottom you set her free – and she sprints out to join her sister on the lawn.

The pair run circles around one another. They cartwheel on the grass; they race Shimmer and use the flowerbeds as hurdles. They dirty their dresses – ivory stained with bursts of green – though they look better that way, anyway.

They take turns playing Swingball with the only remaining racket (a mysterious disappearance that neither will own up to, and both are most certainly involved in). Sarah tells Ellie that she won – and the smaller girl throws her fists in the air and roars in victory.

Joel stands on the porch, hands in his pockets, watching. Even from behind, you can see the shape of his cheeks: he’s smiling. He crosses one foot over the other and taps his heel against the wood.

You emerge from the house slowly, quietly. “We didn’t get matching corsages this time,” you say, and he turns.

He starts, as though he glitches for a second. As though his world tilts on its axis, just from looking at you. His expression softens, his lips curve into a smile.

Then he breathes a laugh – a shaky thing, like he’s seventeen again, watching his homecoming date saunter over.

“That’s alright,” he replies, and slips a hand into his suit pocket. He fishes out two white tulips. “Remembered Alice dropped these off the other day. Here.”

Delicately, lighter than the breeze, he tucks the flower behind your ear. He steps back to admire his work, just like his daughter did.

All the best parts of you, you reckon, are the parts that are loved by them.

“How do I look?” you ask.

Joel sucks in a shattered breath. “Beautiful,” he chokes, like it’s all his voice will allow. He sniffs, drags his knuckles across the bottom of his nose, and says, “You ain’t never looked more beautiful.”

“Your turn.”

You take the second tulip from his fingers and drop it into his breast pocket, turning it until it looks perfect. “There,” you pat his chest, “Now we both look beautiful.”

He steps forward, dipping his head to kiss you. Arms around your waist, hands splayed on your back. He laughs against your lips. “Don’t think I don’t know what this is,” he mumbles, tugging at the pale material.

“It still fits!” you say, running a palm down the smooth silk. Flashes of light, a squealing guitar, heated kisses and a thudding bassline. It spins past your eyes as he leans in again.

He tastes the same. Less alcohol, sure – but that same, sweet-as-honey, instantly intoxicating taste. Like you were a goner before you even hit the mattress.

You look back up, and Joel’s eyes are on yours.

“After two kids, it still fits,” you whisper.

“Hm,” he muses, glancing down. His hands slip around your ass. “Looks even better than it did then, Mama.”

You laugh against his lips. “It’s my something blue.”

“Oh, yeah?” He lifts an eyebrow. “What else you got?”

“Well, something borrowed –” you hold your left hand up, a plastic ring glinting in the sunlight, “– Duck gave me some of her finest jewelry. Something new –” you wiggle your earlobe, “– Mother’s Day earrings, and…something old…”

Joel tilts his head. His expression tightens, tightens, tightens – until he understands. He clicks his teeth and steps back. “Funny. You’re so funny, I ever tell you that?”

You giggle, letting him drag you across the porch. “I’m just bein’ realistic, man. What else do I got that’s as old as you?”

He ignores you. It makes you laugh even harder.

It always did.

The wind surfs through silk, lifting your skirt as you stride over the driveway. Your hands stay interlocked – and you know that, secretly, Joel’s as nervous as you.

He whistles and his daughters look up.

“Serena, Venus,” he calls, nodding to the truck. “Get in.”

They skip over. Sarah takes her dad’s hand – the picture of royalty as he aids her up into the backseat – and Ellie swings into your arms.

You strap them in, point fingers to warn them not to bicker, and climb in the front.

The doors slam closed and you exhale slowly. Two kids aren’t any more complicated than one – especially in yours and Joel’s case – but holy shit, they’re tiring.

They compare dresses in the backseat. What color is yours, Duck? Pink, Nel. Is mine’s pink, Duck? Yours is yellow, Nel.

Joel’s hand slips around your knee. He smiles. Gives your leg a little squeeze. He flicks the radio on, and an Eagles track sways through the cabin. He fixes the tulip in your hair, peppers kisses along your wrist.

His voice is as soft as Henley’s, when he asks –

“Wanna go to a wedding?”

#something of a love letter to ellie williams ig #chats #anon #fic: sweet child o' mine #joel miller ficlet #joel miller #joel miller x reader

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angelofsmalldeath-codeine · 1 year ago

Text

I fed my delulu that Ellie and Joel never fought and they are happy.

The storms within us

summery: Joel is out on patrol when a snowstorm hits, leaving Ellie longing to be in her dad's presence again. You try to bring a bit of happiness to her by surprising her with the DVD's that you found. But will that be enough or the comfort that she needs can only be brought by Joel himself?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ellie stood in front of her bedroom window. It was pitch black outside. The lanterns in the streets were little help against the amount of snow that was blazing. She enjoyed snowy nights, but not on days like this. Because in a way, it didn't feel right for Ellie to cozy up in her window nook and read or sit by the fire downstairs while you knit. No, she couldn't. Not with Joel out on patrol in weather like this.

Ellie's mind was as frantic as the snowstorm outside. What if Joel slipped? What if he didn't hear someone coming when the wind was so strong? What if he was somewhere slumped up against the tree, freezing to death? A cold shiver ran down Ellie's back at that thought. In the beginning, she hated herself for becoming so dependent. So attached. So needy for the love you and Joel gave her. But she couldn't help it. Every cell in her body craved it. A warm embrace. A kiss on the forehead. A laugh over dinner. A warm smile that greeted her. Proud looks on your and Joel's faces when she did well in school.

You and Joel made her feel like she wasn't a broken kid after all. Not just an unlovable orphan. No, she was enough. That's what you always told her. "Look in the mirror, you're a worrier. The strength you hold in your heart is beyond this world, bean", you would mutter in her hair while squeezing her shoulders. Even when Ellie didn't believe it herself, you always made her feel like she could. Could be enough. But Ellie was more like Joel. She also preferred to let her emotions go in silence. Ellie still remembered how she stumbled back downstairs to get a glass of water, giving up on sleep after two hours of tossing and turning.

She found Joel sitting on the sofa with his arms on his knees, just staring ahead. Ellie thought about turning back, but instead, she walked closer to Joel. She waited for him to question why she wasn't sleeping. Why was she out of bed at such late hours of the night? But instead, Joel stretched out an arm towards her, inviting her into his embrace. Ellie had never moved quicker. Curling up into his side, Joel wrapped her up in his strong arms. A gentle kiss grazed her forehead. They didn't talk. But they didn't have to. They knew about their demons and why they were up in the first place. Words would just make it cheap. However, their silence and the hold they had on one another spoke volumes.

"Oh, El, no, honey", your voice made the girl jump, snapping her out of her thoughts. You rushed forward, "You'll get sick, love. What were you doing?" After closing the fully open window, you turned to her. Not mad - worried. Ellie didn't remember when she had opened it. Nor did she feel the bitter cold or the snow hitting her cheeks. You quickly moved your sleeve up your palm, dabbing her cheeks dry. "Is Joel back?", Ellie muttered under her breath. Your heart swelled. The past day has been extremely difficult for Ellie. She seemed fine at first, but then her worries seemed to grow at an astronomical speed. Not to mention the look on her face when the snowstorm broke out.

"Not yet, baby. But I'm sure they are making their way back", yet this answer no longer satisfied the longing need to see Joel back home. The patrol shift was supposed to change twelve hours ago. Twelve. And it hadn't because they hadn't come back. What if they never come back? What if no one would find them? What if she would never get to see him again? "Hey, hey, look at me," you said to the sight of Ellie's chest starting to rise more frantically as you gently cupped her face, "Bab, Joel is fine. Look where that man got us! If anyone is capable of coming back in this kind of weather, it's him", yet she just shook her head and said, "How can you be so sure? He could be dying out there", Ellie quickly gestured to the window.

She was extremely protective of you two. She began worrying about the smallest of things, and while it was adorable at first, you could see that it was what led her to overthink. "Who says that I'm sure?", you asked as you sat down on her bed, letting your own eyes wander toward the bitter cold. "I'm as scared. But you have to keep the faith. Emotions like this can quickly eat you up", you said quietly, as Ellie moved to sit beside you. "Remember the rule Joel and I told you about?", you questioned. Ellie nodded her head. You had first told her about it when Joel had to leave for the first time since you got to Jackson. Life in QZ was different, of course. Much more challenging than it was here. There, it was a miracle if you crossed a street without getting hit by someone.

Joel had gone on a smuggling trip that was supposed to be daylong at best. You had just started properly seeing each other then. He didn't come back for a whole week. You were ready to bury him. Weep for the loss of your loved one. Sure that he had either been shot by a soldier or was bitten by an infected. When you heard the door open, you were convinced that you were imagining it. When the street lights illuminated Joel's tired face, you thought that you had gone mad. But then all the emotion came rolling back, and you just strolled up to him, hitting his chest over and over again as you cried.

"You don't make promises of survival, but don't live like you're losing the one you love until you know that you are", Ellie rasped out. It was a sad rule. But the world wasn't the happiest place. "You've got to keep the love strong. He can feel it. Send him love, not fear, baby girl", you said, bringing Ellie closer to your chest as you squeezed her just a bit tighter. An action that she as well returned.

"Now let's go. I have something to show you", Ellie gave you a puzzled look but did not argue back. You had kept this tucked away from her birthday, but considering the situation now, you figured that this might be better timing. You handed Elie a corner of a white sheet, showing her how to tie it on the wooden beam before lifting the self-constructed pole toward the ceiling. Ellie watched you still. It reminded her of the projector in the main hall, but then again, it was a rare occasion that she went there.

"Any clue?", you asked her, but she just shrugged her shoulders. You've seen this side of her. The dissociated, scared girl. It broke your heart, but you were determined to change it. Stepping off the chair, you reached for a box that was placed by the fireplace. Handing it to Ellie and encouraging her to open it. She pulled the ribbon off. Lifting the lid off carefully.

"I've been collecting them for a while, and since you love movies and it's been a while… I thought we could have movie nights at home from now on", you said, watching as she turned different DVDs in her hands. A sense of sadness was still there, and you wondered if it was a good choice to show this to her now. Especially since you knew this would have been something she would have wanted to do with both you and Joel. "Oh, that's my favorite. Little Miss Sunshine. I'm convinced you would love it; it's quite funny, you know," you said, beaming at the sight of your favorite one. "Wanna watch that tonight?", you asked, but Ellie shook her head. "With dad", she muttered, putting the DVD to the side. You felt your own eyes starting to sting.

Reaching for her hand, you kneeled in front of her. Ellie wasted no time as she wrapped her arms around your neck as quiet sobs escaped her lips. You wrapped your hands around her as well, running your palms up and down her back. "Let it out, baby, let it out", you muttered into her hair. "What if I don't get to tell him that I love him?", she choked out, pulling away slightly. "Of course, you will. Many times. He's coming back, angel. You know why?", you asked, looking her in the eyes as she shook her head, "Because you are his whole world, and he just as much wants to tell you how much he loves you".

More tears spilled down Ellie's cheeks. She clung to your words. Letting herself see a glimpse of hope in them. You moved to stand up, letting go of her, and Ellie instantly reached for you again. "I'll be right back", you said gently. Quickly stepping back upstairs to ruffle through the drawers before getting back to the still-crying girl. "Put this on, baby", you told her, handing her one of Joel's warmer winter flannels. One of his favorites. One that he usually wore around the house. One that Ellie instantly recognized. She took it into her hands carefully, as if it was one of her most prized possessions. Pushing the material closer to her nose, Ellie breathed in the familiar smell. Smell that belonged to Joel. Smell that reminded her of home. That was part of her home. Slipping her arms through the sleeves, Ellie wrapped the material around herself. A wash of ease floated through her body. "Ravioli?", you asked, running your fingers through her hair. Hoping to make her eat at least something tonight. "With extra cheese?", Ellie asked, making you let out a quiet laugh, "Say no more, bean".

Empty plates were now laid out on the side table, cleaned to the last bit. A random finding about the galaxy was played on the screen. Ellie's eyes were focused on the movie that played. She seemed calmer. You were laying on your side, with Ellie in front of you. Your arm was protectively wrapped around the girl. She was playing with your fingers casually. Twisting the wedding band on your finger, slipping it off and on at times. You watched her carefully. Nuzzling just a bit closer.

"Do you think there's wind on the moon?", she asked you casually, her eyes not leaving the screen. "I doubt it, but they better have canned macaroni because what will you eat when you get there?", you tickled her side gently, making her chuckle slightly. "Well, isn't the moon just a giant cheese?", "Right, right, so you just need pasta shapes". Ellie shook her head with a giggle, pulling your arm closer to herself.

The room soon turned quiet. The fire was dying down slowly, but you didn't dare to move. Ellie had fallen asleep. It was an uneasy one, but it was better than nothing. You glanced at the door quickly. Letting your mind wander for a moment. You didn't want to let the thought of Joel not coming fully set it, but then again, you couldn't help it. Pushing those thoughts to the back of your head, you settled down yourself. Letting the sound of Ellie's breathing lull you into a slumber.

Joel hadn't stopped thinking about you two ever since the snowstorm started. He feared. Not because he was freezing, but because he knew you two were worried sick. He wished there would have been a way to reach you. Let you know that he was well. He and Tommy stopped by an abandoned farm when it all picked up. He wasn't just wandering through the woods. Joel needed you to know that he was coming back. That he would always come back. "They are fine, Joel,", Tommy cut into the train of thought that Joel was lost in. "You don't know them as I do", Joel argued back. A silence fell around them until Joel raised his hands to blow warm air at his palms, "And I didn't even say goodbye to Ellie", "Joel, she will be fine". Yet Joel knew Ellie was probably far from well. Of course, you were with her. That he was thankful for, and he knew that she would find peace in you, but he hated being the reason why she would be feeling worried. Joel found himself in Ellie. Found a purpose to live.

When he finally stumbled back to Jackson, he didn't give the rest of the crew a second glance. Not caring much about giving reports. Some of them tried to call after him, but Tommy just shook his head and said, "Let him go; he's needed at home". It was an odd feeling. For some reason, Joel found himself wondering. What if you two weren't there? What ifs were the most dangerous questions for a reason. They could make any, even the strongest one, crumble slightly.

Fidgeting with the key, Joel stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind him in an attempt to keep the cold out of the place. The house seemed quiet, but then again, it was past 3 a.m., if not later. Joel shrugged off his damp jacket. Making his way deeper into the house. His stomach rambled; he hadn't eaten properly in over a day. But first, he had to see you two. Had to make sure that you were well. That you were here. That everything was just how he left it the morning he left.

Joel's eyes first fell onto the big makeshift screen that still had a movie playing on it. Different planets were twirling around the screen, illuminating the room in a dim, blueish light. Stepping closer, he looked over the back of the sofa. Heart skipped a beat at the sight. His precious girls cuddled up together. Joel noticed the grip Ellie had on you first. Even in her sleep, she was holding onto you as if you were about to slip away. Then he noticed a slight frown on her face and the flannel that she wrapped herself in. His flannel. Joel's jaw clenched in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay. How worried would she have been if you had offered her his shirt to wear?

Stepping in front of Ellie, Joel kneeled carefully. Brushing his fingers through the stray hair that had fallen onto her face. She stirred instantly as if sensing his presence. Eyes opened ever so slightly, "Dad?", she muttered, Joel's heart nearly jumping out of his chest. He knew that she referred to him like that while talking to you, but she had never said it straight to his face. "Yeah, baby girl, I'm here", Joel said, smiling softly. "Dad…", Ellie almost cried out this time, tiredly reaching out for Joel. "It's okay, I've got you", he muttered in response. Bearing out to embrace her, "Easy sweet girl", he tried to soothe her fears as he held her close to him.

"Don't leave me", Ellie's arms wrapped around Joel's shoulders as she clung to him even more, "Why would I? I'll be here when you wake up; I'll hold you till you fall asleep", her hands gripped him even closer. Joel didn't even think about letting go. He needed to ground himself. Rocking her slightly, Joel smiled when Ellie's breathing evened out a little. "Bring her to our bed", the sound of your voice made him look up. Your eyes were tired, yet you smiled at him as if he was one of the world's wonders.

Joel reached out for your hand, which you took instantly, squeezing it gently. "You two are okay?", he asked before carefully standing up with Ellie in his arms. You gathered up the blanket that kept you two warm for the night, "Now that you're here, we are", to which Joel gave you a knowing look before nodding for you to step up the stairs first. He was here, and he was going to shelter you two from the wildest of storms. More than ready to go that extra mile to keep you both safe.

Joel laid Ellie in the middle of the bed, and you quickly pulled a blanket over her body. "Are you laying on my other side?", Joel asked, and you shook your head. "She needs us tonight, well, you mostly, but I think it's better if she stays in the middle", Joel nodded his head. Coming up to your side, cupping your face as he leaned in to kiss you softly. Breathing you in before wrapping his arms around you for the first time that night, "You seriously need to stop disappearing, or I'll grow gray myself", Joel chuckled slightly at your words, "Can't have that. There's only one space for a silver fox in this house".

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