#survivor blues: joel pov

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Survivor Blues

DEAD WOOD: JOEL'S POV

A/N: After far too long, this one is back in action! I have missed writing this story so darn much and it feels great to be back with these characters. This interlude has been living in my wip folder for a damn year, and I am really exciting to finally be sharing it. It takes place immediately following the events of Part Five, and it marks the first time that we get to see things through Joel's eyes in this universe. (It also alludes to some things that I haven't expanded on within this story yet, but that I am so SO excited to.)

Series Masterlist

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: language, mention of character death, loss, grief, trauma, brief description of injury, Ellie is a snarky teenager, PLOT SPOILERS FOR TLOU, feel free to message me if you have questions (it's actually a lot more hopeful than the title makes it sound)

Summary: Home from the supply run, Joel contemplates how far he's come since arriving in Jackson... and hopes that it will be the same for you. Tommy and Ellie - of course - have thoughts and opinions on things, too.

By the time Joel got home after a quick stop at the clinic, it was past seven, the house - and Ellie’s garage - both standing dark and empty against the beginnings of night. 

She must be out with friends. Good. 

It had taken a few years, but he was finally in a place where her absence didn’t immediately put him on edge. When they first settled into the house on Rancher Street, Joel would insist that Ellie stay at Tommy and Maria’s anytime he was gone overnight. Even the walls and the close knit community couldn’t fully satisfy that need to know that she was safe then. But now a note stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet telling him where she’d gone was more than sufficient. 

Which was exactly what he found when he entered the kitchen. Plucking the piece of paper from the fridge door and leaning against the counter, he read the girl’s hastily scrawled words. 

Joel, 

Not sure when you’re getting back but I might not be here when you do. Staying with some friends tonight and tomorrow. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Movie night - don’t forget!

-Ellie 

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. Like I’d ever forget movie night, kiddo. 

Getting that back - that time with her where they could just be a family, laughing together and watching some movie that was made fifteen years before she was born, that time that both of them desperately craved where they could put down all the things they carried and all the things they’d gone through even if only for 120 minutes at a time - that was a gift he would never take for granted. Her eventual forgiveness and understanding, once he’d finally explained his reasoning for the choices he made, was everything to Joel. And it was still fresh. The two of them were still awkwardly trying to find their way back to the kind of relationship they had before the lie came to light. But it was a chance that Joel never imagined he’d get, and it wasn’t one he would ever squander. 

He raised his hand to stick Ellie’s note back on the refrigerator door for now, but paused before using the same faded orange Longhorns magnet that she had used to secure it. Instead, he dug into his back pocket and pulled out a new one. Turning it over in his palm, Joel glanced down at the yellow letters spelling out Wyoming and remembered the look on your face when he handed you one identical to it that morning. 

It wasn’t really a smile, more like the framework of one, a hint of what it would look like fully fleshed out. It was different from the ones he’d seen you wear while working in the bakery or waving to someone on the street. Those were pleasantries that you were refamiliarizing yourself with. This one touched your eyes, softening them for a few seconds. It made Joel wonder what he unearthed with that small gesture - what part of your former life he’d been able to reach and awaken, at least partially. He didn’t bother with wondering what it meant that he’d taken an identical magnet for himself. 

With a sigh, he used the gas station souvenir to tack up Ellie’s note where he’d found it. Keeping his injured arm down at his side, he reached to open the cupboard next to the fridge and pulled down a glass and the bottle he kept there. He let out a grunt as he twisted the cap off, needing to use both hands to do so and being punished for the miniscule movement with a throb of discomfort through his bicep. Shit, that hurts. 

Though your work had held up just fine all the way back to Jackson, the wound had still garnered a hiss and a wince from the nurse on duty at the clinic. Using a cloth and clear grain alcohol, she’d carefully cleaned between and around the stitches, telling him that he was lucky he had someone with him who knew what they were doing, because the cut was deep and without closing it properly, he would have lost a lot more blood than he did. Slathering the area with an antiseptic cream, she re-wrapped his arm and sent him on his way, recommending that he not get the stitches wet for a good two days. 

Gonna have to stick my arm outta the shower I guess. First thing’s first, though. 

But before he could finish making himself a drink, he was interrupted by the call of his name. “Joel?” Tommy’s voice joined the stomp of his boots as he climbed the porch stairs and let himself through the front door. “Hey, Joel? Where-” 

I shoulda known he’d be over. 

Holly, the nurse at the clinic, was close friends with Maria. There was no way that she didn’t radio over to let Maria know that she’d just taken care of her brother-in-law. And that meant that Tommy knew, too. 

“Kitchen,” Joel answered, cutting his brother’s question short and reaching into the cupboard for a second glass. Setting it on the counter, he opened the freezer and scooped a few ice cubes into his palm before dividing them between the two tumblers. They clinked against the cut glass but fell silent as Joel poured a few fingers of whiskey in each, turning around in time to see Tommy appear in the doorway. “Hey, little brother.”

Tommy’s eyes were alert as he gave Joel the once over, his heightened focus settling on the bandage on his arm. “Shit, you alright? Holly said-” 

“M’fine, Tommy.” He picked up one of the glasses and handed it over, the younger man accepting it with visible relief. “Just a cut. Fell into some broken glass.”

Tommy raised one eyebrow. “You fell, huh?” 

Joel rolled his eyes with a gruff groan. “Couple’a infected caught us by surprise at the eye doctor. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle.” He leaned back against the counter and lifted his glass to his lips, taking a swig.

“Jesus.” Tommy took a drink, too, bending forward to rest his elbows on the island in the center of the kitchen. He set his glass down but kept his fingers around it, forehead furrowing as he spoke your name in the form of a question. “She’s alright, too? Holly didn’t say anything about-” 

Joel shook his head. “She’s fine, Tommy. Didn’t even have to stop at the clinic, so Holly didn’t see her.” He took another small drink, letting the rich amber liquid coat his tongue before swallowing. “She went straight back to her place from the stables.”

“Good.” Tommy nodded and blew out a breath, the last of the worry leaving his expression. “That’s good.” He cleared his throat and swirled the contents of his glass, watching the ice slide around the sides. “And uh… she did alright?” His eyes came back up then. “I mean, dealin’ with the infected and all?”  

Joel recalled the way you snapped immediately into action, shifting seamlessly from defense to attack, muscle memory taking over and guiding your blade exactly where it needed to go without hesitation. 

Alright’s an understatement. 

You’d had a moment of panic in the aftermath, but though Joel was certain that was what Tommy was asking about with the addition of “and all”, he decided not to consider it in his response. Your explanation was solid. No harm had been done, and he didn’t think it warranted mentioning. Nor did the fact that he had only been knocked through the glass display case because he’d glanced in your direction first to make sure you didn’t need help. 

We’re both fine. No point in worryin’ him over nothin’. She’s no more of a liability on a run than I am. She just… she needs time. Like we all did. 

“Yeah,” he answered, brows pinched together as he took another drink. He shrugged his bandaged arm out in front of him. “She even patched me up once we were in the clear.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Well, shit.” The tiniest twitch of his mustache gave away a hidden smirk, and he used the hand holding his glass to point at Joel. “You mean you actually let someone take care of you?” 

Joel rolled his eyes again. “Shut it, Tommy.” 

That got a laugh out of him, the younger man setting his glass on the island to lift both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just messin’ with you, big brother.” He smiled, a smaller chuckle slipping through it as his hands dropped to the counter. “Really, though.” He nodded. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” 

“Yeah.” Your near-smile flashed in Joel’s memory again as his eyes shifted to the magnet on the refrigerator. “Me too.” The kitchen fell silent for a handful of seconds, both men finishing their drinks before Joel spoke again. “Hey, do… do you remember that time you gave me a hand takin’ down the old oak tree in the yard?” 

Tommy blinked, clearly surprised by the question, but didn’t ask why Joel had brought it up. Instead, he tilted his head, brow furrowed as he sorted through his memories. The moment he dug the right one from its hiding spot, his expression changed. The creases in his forehead smoothed out and gave way to curved lines around his mouth as he broke into a smile. 

“Yeah.” He let out a huff of laughter, hanging his head and letting it shake from side to side before lifting it again. When he did he was still smiling, though there was a bittersweet shadow behind it. I know. You miss her too. “I remember us catchin’ hell for it.” 

We sure did. Joel tipped the bottle to fill both glasses with a half measure, then screwed the cap back on and put the bottle back in the cabinet it came from. 

The tree in question had been Sarah’s favorite. A swing hung from one of its branches, and Joel had tacked scraps of wood into the trunk that she used as footholds to scamper up so she could sit in the Y-shaped split in the center. And though she was only seven at the time, she had put up quite a fight when it came to taking it down. Joel could still picture the determined scowl on her face as she sat against the trunk. She had her scrawny arms crossed over her chest as she informed her father and her uncle that she wouldn’t let them kill her tree. What she didn’t know was that the tree was diseased, and that if left alone, not only would it become a safety hazard, but it ran the risk of infecting other nearby trees. 

He matched Tommy’s smile. “That girl all but tied herself to that damn trunk.” Joel always had the suspicion that if she had the time and an accomplice to help her with the knots, she would have. “She could be persistent, huh?” 

Tommy hummed. “Wonder where she got that from. What is it they say about apples again?” He laughed, but then curiosity got the better of him. “What…” He coughed to clear his throat. “What made you think’a that?” 

I’m gettin’ to it. “You remember how I had to prove to her that the tree was sick? Took my pocket knife and scratched the bark so she could see it was already dyin’ underneath?” She had gasped when the scratch test revealed a grayish, ashy underlayer, her eyes going wide and her bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill as her outrage instantly turned to fear for the other trees in the yard. “I had to scrape ‘em all, show her the rest of ‘em were still green and alive, even though they all looked the same on the outside.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed and he swallowed. “Yeah… Where you goin’ with this, Joel?” 

“I been thinkin’ about how it’s like that for people, too. It was like that for me. It was like that for me for a long time, Tommy.” Tilting the glass in his hand, he watched the amber liquid collect in the corner of it, shining gold through the cut crystal where the overhead light struck. “Scratch test came up gray for years. Thought I’d never really feel anything again… Thought I was done.” 

Straightening the glass, he let its contents slosh back to cover the bottom before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. Honey and malt slid over his tongue, a subtle layer of smoke and spice following as he swallowed. Back in Boston, drinking wasn’t something he did for enjoyment or relaxation. It wasn’t for savoring or even tasting, really. Then he drank to forget. To sleep. To turn it all off. Here in Jackson though, he could share a drink with his brother and remember. 

Remember what life tasted and looked and felt like. Remember his daughter. Remember who he was beneath all the dead wood around his heart.  

“Yeah.” Tommy’s eyes were on his own glass, a frown pulling at his mouth and etching creases between his eyebrows again. “I know.” He cleared his throat and took a long swig, finishing his drink with a wince that cracked into a fool’s gold grin - one that Joel knew was covering feelings of guilt and empathy and other things Tommy still felt compelled to atone for even though Joel had tried his best to lay those things to rest in the years since their reunion. We were no good to each other like that, little brother. We would have just broken each other. I don’t blame you for leavin’. Not anymore. Tommy reached over, grin still stretched across his face but growing more genuine as he clapped Joel on the shoulder of his good arm. “But you ain’t done, you old fucker. Not yet.” 

That was thanks almost entirely to Ellie and they both knew it. The girl was determined, borderline relentless, same as Sarah had been with the tree. She had been the one to keep scratching, keep digging, keep checking for the hint of green under all that twisted, lifeless gray. And when she found it, all the things that he thought had disappeared started coming out of their dormancy.

Things like jokes and laughter. Memories. The capacity to care deeply for others again. Things like movie nights. The things that made surviving the worst worthwhile. 

It was also thanks in part to Jackson - and to Tommy and Maria for welcoming him and Ellie into their lives. Some days it terrified him, allowing himself to have so much to lose again. There were still times he worried that he had peeled back too many of those hardened layers. That he’d let his guard down too much, exposed his heart to happiness for too long and that it would all be lost to blight. But even on those days he knew what Tommy had just said to be true - that he wasn’t done yet. 

And neither is she. 

Joel spoke your name then, nodding solemnly. “I think it’s been like that for her for a long time, too.” 

Tommy sighed. “Yeah.” He finished his drink and walked over to set the empty glass in the sink. “I got that impression, too.” Turning around, he tilted his head to one side. “You said she was alright on the trip though. Somethin’ happen?” 

Joel took a breath in through his nose, letting it back out slowly. “Just…” He tapped his pointer finger absently against the glass he still held. “I think I saw that  in her. The green underneath. I think… bein’ here is… it’s helpin’ her.” Even if she’s got a long way to go. “It’s… she’s still in there.”  

You were. And Joel realized, for the first time since meeting Tess all those years ago in Boston, that he wanted to know that person - the person who showed him the hint of a genuine smile, the person who carefully and gently patched him up, the person who shared a coveted instant coffee packet with him to pass the time and stay warm on a chilly night. And that scares the hell outta me.  

“Well that’s-” Tommy’s smile had nothing but warmth behind it that time. “That’s real good to hear.” He stepped away from the counter and towards the kitchen door then, bringing his hands together. “Well, I’ll get outta here so you can get yourself cleaned up and all. Just had to make sure you were good after we heard from Holly.” 

Joel nodded, following him out into the living room. “Yeah. How’d you put it? Thanks for still givin’ a shit about me?” He heard his brother snort out a laugh before turning around to face him again. 

“Yeah, exactly.” He paused then, the joking smile falling away to reveal something more serious yet still full of relief and warmth. When he spoke again his words were quiet, but they made a big impact. “It’s real good to hear you talk about Sarah again, too.” 

With that, he left, and Joel was left to respond to the empty room. “Yeah. It is.” 

–  –  – 

Twenty minutes later he was drying off from the shower when he heard the sound of the back door opening, followed by the call of his name. 

“Joel? You home?” Ellie’s voice was muffled by the closed door and the towel that he was dragging over his hair. 

Ellie? Thought she was stayin’ out tonight? 

He called back. “Yeah. Gimme five minutes, I’ll be right down.”  

Moving from the bathroom into his bedroom, Joel pulled clean clothes and underwear from his dresser - a pair of thick navy blue sweatpants along with a dark gray t- shirt and a pair of wool socks. Easing the shirt carefully over his wrapped bicep, he sighed, knowing that as soon as Ellie saw it she would react. She hated seeing him injured, as anyone would hate to see someone they cared about get hurt. But Joel knew that in her case, it was more than that. In her case, it reminded her of those dark days in Colorado, when she did all she could to keep him alive and still wasn’t sure he would make it through the night. 

It won’t always be like that, though. ‘Least I hope not. For her sake. 

The  thought of covering it up with a loose fitting flannel or long sleeved shirt didn’t even occur to him, though. After coming clean about everything that happened in Salt Lake City with the Fireflies and the doctor they were working with, Joel made a solemn vow to himself that he’d never withhold the truth from her again. Even when it might hurt. Especially when it might hurt. Because he knew that nothing he’d done in that hospital had hurt her more than the lie he told her on the outskirts of Jackson. 

And I’ll never do that to her again. 

As he made his way down the stairs, he heard her moving around in the kitchen, the sound of plates being set on the counter meeting his ears. “I’m making sandwiches,” she yelled when the fourth step from the bottom creaked under his weight. “You want one?” 

“Sure, kiddo.”  What happened to stayin’ with your friends? Everything alright?” He wasn’t trying to distract her by keeping her talking before she saw his arm, but Joel wanted her to hear it in his voice that he was okay. 

She groaned. “Kat and Dina are having some kind of stupid drama and I didn’t wanna get sucked into it so I decided to come home. You know, they’re both important to me but sometimes they can just - Fuck! Joel! What the?” 

He’d walked into the kitchen at the same time that she looked up from the slices of bread that she was piling with leftover chicken, the sight of him making her stop what she was doing and scramble around the island to stand in front of him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s…” He held up both hands, only wincing a little at the pull of his stitches when he lifted his arm. “I’m fine, Ellie. Just a cut.” 

“Well …” Her eyes were wide but she tore  them from the bandage to look up at him. “Well, what happened? I thought it was supposed to be an easy run?” 

“It was. But you know as well as I do that easy runs can turn, yeah?” He reached forward, placing his hand on her shoulder and tilting his head to the side. “Hey. I’m okay, kiddo.” Giving her a light squeeze, he waited for her to nod and accept what he was saying, and then he shot a glance at the half-finished sandwiches. “C’mon, I’m starvin’. Let’s eat and I’ll fill you in.” 

Just like he did the night that he and Tommy brought you into town, Joel sat down and told her everything that happened at the optometrist’s office - how the pair of infected had seemingly come from nowhere and were suddenly on the two of you, how the one that lunged at him managed to knock him backwards and through a glass case, how you had made sure that the wound was cleaned and tended to as best as you could. And though she had been concerned and rattled at the beginning of his story, Ellie was wearing something close to a smirk as he finished. 

“Oh.” She bit off a mouthful of her sandwich, raising her eyebrows as she chewed and speaking again before she swallowed. “So you like… really trust this chick, huh?” 

Joel clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Her too? First Tommy and now- “That’s your comment? Not ‘Well I’m glad you had someone there to help you, Joel’?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes right back. “Yeah, yeah that too. But I mean…” She gave a casual, one-shouldered shrug. “First you let her take care of you, then you decide to both sleep at the same time instead of taking shifts?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. “You never do that unless it’s me or Tommy.” Something dawned on her then, and she turned mid-chew toward the sink, gesturing towards it with the hand that still held what was left of her sandwich. “Wait. Is that why there’s two glasses in there? Did she come over when you got back to town?” 

“What? No. Ellie…” He sighed, and shook his head. “No. There’s two glasses in the sink because Tommy was here earlier, not-” 

“Well you should invite her over for dinner then. As a thank you-” She emphasized her intention to silence his protest. “- for sewing you up, you know?” 

Joel took a bite of his food, chewing it slowly to buy himself more time before answering. The idea of having you in his home, sharing a meal, talking and laughing - he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it. But I don’t know if she… 

He thought back to his own first few months in Jackson and how skittish he was every time someone would try to include him in anything that wasn’t directly related to security or survival. It all still seemed so impractical. Cookouts and movie nights and holidays while the world outside the walls continued to crumble? And then there was the guilt. That grating, shredding near-constant feeling that he shouldn’t be there - shouldn’t be safe, shouldn’t be happy or comfortable or even alive - not when Tess didn’t get to be there too. Not when Sarah never had a chance to. You hadn’t said much about the things you’d been through or the people you’d lost, other than that you’d recently lost your nephew. But Joel knew from experience that while those devastating wounds never fully healed, they did become less raw when they were given some time.   

I’d like it. But I don’t know if she’s ready for somethin’ like that. He swallowed and brought a hand up to wipe his mouth. Yet. 

“Maybe when the weather’s nicer an’ we can cook outside.” He got up from the table and took his plate with him, setting it in the sink next to the two glasses. 

The scrape of chair legs on the floor told him that Ellie had gotten up, too, the girl appearing at his elbow to stack her plate atop his. “What does the weather have to do with-” He shot her a look then and she rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. But we’re circling back to this in June.” 

Joel leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Speakin’ of circling back, you said somethin’ about your friends fightin’? You wanna talk about that?” He lifted one eyebrow as she shot him a look of her own. 

“I do not.” 

Joel snorted a laugh. “Alright, then. Just try not to go breakin’ too many hearts, yeah? You don’t-” 

Without missing a beat, Ellie grabbed the dish towel that was hanging on the oven handle, balling it up and throwing it at his face. “Shut up.” She was laughing too, though, bending down to pick up the towel after Joel had batted it away. “So stupid.” Straightening back up with an exaggerated sigh, she whipped the towel onto the countertop. “On that note, I’m gonna get outta here.” She glanced at his arm, mouth dipping into a quick frown that was gone by the time she looked back up at his face. “I’m glad you’re home, Joel. Have a good night.” 

He smiled, chest warming as he did. ��G’night, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that she turned and was nearly out the door when something caught her eye and she stopped in front of the refrigerator. “Hey, you got a new magnet.” She pointed at the note she’d left him, now stuck up with the square-ish shape of Wyoming. “I used the cowhead one but this one’s-” She looked over her shoulder, a smirk beginning to grow. “You brought home a souvenir from your trip, huh? So you could remember it? Any reason for that?” 

Joel narrowed his eyes at her, but all it did was pull a laugh out of her. “Good night, Ellie.”  She laughed all the way down the back porch steps but Joel didn’t mind. She ain’t wrong.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know! You can also fill out the form on my masterlist!

Tags: @something-tofightfor  @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @amb11 @mindidjarin @jk7789 @tentacruels @cannedsoupsucks @harriedandharassed @marauderskeeper @joelmillerscoffee @woodlandmouth @swtaura @grfields @valkblue​ @stealyourblorbos @sleepylunarwolf @trickstersp8 @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @mumma-moonchild @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @anoverwhelmingdin @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @Noisynightmarepoetry

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 34

read on ao3! (156k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 3.7k

Chapter 34:

Juliet's POV:

She wasn’t there when Elijah died.

Her body was, but her mind had retreated; her consciousness curled into a ball, eyes squeezed shut, hands over her ears, drowning out the horror beyond her eyelids.

She’d heard the story from Joel, bits and pieces of it here and there when anger and hurt clouded his judgement. 

No, Juliet hadn’t witnessed the moment her father stopped breathing, when those almost translucent blue eyes froze forever in an undoubtable look of terror when Joel’s fists met bone. 

She’d heard the rest of it from Ethan. His voice low as he recounted that when Joel was finished with Elijah, he had picked him up by the shoulders and planted him in the same fire used to mark her skin. Juliet would’ve liked to have seen that; her father reduced to blackened, burned skin, and bubbling blisters. 

Yes, she would have liked to have seen that. 

Despite this, Juliet was glad that she hadn’t witnessed the look on Joel’s face when he thought that she was dead. Ethan had told her that he had feared for his own life at that moment, terrified that Joel, in his rage of revenge, might have turned his deadly fists towards him too.

Juliet didn’t have to imagine when was going on in Joel’s head, she didn’t have to imagine the look on his face, because if she had slowed her current sprint along the ghostly streets of her old town enough to glance at her reflection in a faded shop window, Juliet would have seen that look reflected in her own eyes.

It wasn’t a long journey from the medic’s office to her old home but terror and exhaustion weighed on her, and the pain from being thrown around, choked, and butchered had forced a numbness to descend upon her body. It was the lack of pain in her hand that worried her, though. The bandage wrapped around the stump that was once her index finger was no longer white, instead, it had transformed into a deep, dark red colour, staining her already blackened hand a more vibrant, fresh shade. 

Fuck, she thought, gritting her teeth.

Juliet’s steps slowed to a gentle jog as she clung to the houses that lined the street near her old home. If he was dead… if she was too late… if she had killed him with her own selfishness…

Her battered body was wracked by a sob that tore its way out of her throat and Juliet had to slap her good hand over her mouth to stop the sound from altering her presence to whoever still lingered in the dark corners of this town.

She pushed it down, pushed all of the pain, the worry, the hatred towards herself and John and Elijah, pushed it all down until all that was left was a cold focus on getting to her old home, now visible from where she was standing on the street. 

Years of surviving had taught Juliet how to pause and assess a situation, to look at danger with her mind, not her heart. But god, was it difficult not to run up those porch steps, and push through the front door with her finger on the trigger of her gun.

It was around midday, the winter sun was bright in the sky and Juliet had to be careful not to be spotted, she didn’t have the luxury of the darkness to hide in. Though, luckily, only one other person knew this house as well as her, and that man was dead.

Juliet allowed herself a quick moment to look down at her maimed hand and attempt to flex her remaining fingers. 

The black spots that appeared in her vision warned her not to try that again.

Her teeth clenched down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and hot tears burned in her eyes.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

When she recovered, Juliet quickly took stock of her weapons. John’s gun was now tight in her good hand, and her knife was tucked in her boot. Her left hand was going to be a problem, but there was no time to test its movement again, lest she pass out on the street. 

Her old home lay on the end of the street. It was the only one turned outwards, facing all the other houses, like the seat at the head of the table; reserved only for those in some position of power.

That was what it had always represented: power. The power that Elijah had, and the power that she didn’t. 

When the house appeared in her nightmares, it was always after dark, where the light from the windows looked like a beacon calling her home. No, not calling for her return, but commanding it. 

Yet now, as Juliet stood on the frost covered grass, looking up at the house with the wind cooling her skin and the sun brightening the sky, it didn’t look quite so harrowing. The porch steps, which had once looked like a mountain, were crumbling, and the paint on the door, a vibrant, bright blue in her memory, was now faded and cracked. The glass on the windows were clouded with age and weeds had attacked the side of the house. Juliet hadn’t noticed such imperfections when she stood here only a few months ago, too distracted by Elijah and the thought of leaving Joel.

Now, with Elijah dead and Danny’s confession having exposed him as merely a sick, deprived stranger who stole her past but who had no claim on her future, the house had lost its foreboding atmosphere. There was no demon waiting for her behind the walls, there were only men, and Juliet had killed enough who had tried to take something from her… she could do it again.  

Ducking low and inching closer, Juliet’s footsteps halted to a firm stop when she noticed movement in the living room window.

Her heart raced and a sharp ringing sound flooded her mind.

The front entrance was out. Juliet had the element of surprise, she wasn’t going to lose that. Her numb feet and racing heart steered her around the side of the building to the backdoor connected to the kitchen. She drew closer this time, squinting as she struggled to see through the sun soaked window.

Juliet was about to head towards the door when she heard a voice coming from the kitchen. She stepped backwards with a sharp intake of breath. 

As she faded into the shadows lingering at the side of the house, her mind buzzed with decisions that her desperation was preventing her from making. 

There was no way to get into the house without alerting the two, maybe more, men who lurked inside. Juliet’s head fell back against the wall, the numbness in her hand had begun to fade, which brought forth a fierce throbbing pain descending down her wrist and forearm. She couldn’t fight like this.

Think, Juliet begged herself to focus. 

The back door creaked open and Juliet’s head whipped towards the sound. 

“Stay here, I’m gonna go check on John, he’s takin too long.” 

The man had just finished throwing the words behind him as he stepped out into the chill air that Juliet occupied. He was tall and gangly in a way that told her that this was not his natural build; he was starving. 

Juliet recognised him, but only vaguely. His name escaped her.

She didn’t move a single muscle, didn’t breathe a single breath. Her gun was clenched in her hand but Juliet didn’t dare tilt it towards him. If he just kept looking straight he wouldn’t see her, please don’t turn, please don’t turn, please don’t -

The door closed behind him with an unexpected bang, drowning out the gasp he let out when his eyes found Juliet.

Her gun was pointed at his chest before he could reach the weapon in his back pocket. He stood still, his hand paused a few inches away from his own gun. 

“Don’t,” Juliet bit out through her clenched jaw.

She didn’t want to alert the man inside. Let him think his friend was gone, let him think he’s alone, let him think he’s safe.

“Juliet?” the man in front of her asked cautiously, scanning her face, eyes widening when he undoubtedly noticed the blood splattered like freckles across her skin. 

He swallowed. “Where’s John?”

Juliet shook her head sharply and tightened her grip on the gun in her hand. 

“Hands in the air,” she ordered.

The man obeyed easily, a weak link perhaps, his fingers even began to tremble as he followed her command. Juliet shifted her stance, attempting to make herself appear taller.

“Where is he?” she practically growled, failing miserably to keep the desperation from her voice.

He blinked. “Inside.” 

His answer brought no relief to Juliet’s pounding heart.

“Is he alive?” she asked quieter, her voice low to keep from shaking. 

Joel’s unconscious body being dragged across the courtyard flashed through her vision and she had to stop herself from pulling the trigger just to feel some relief.

The man nodded vigorously, his eyes wide.

Juliet choked down a sob.

“How many other people are in there?” she questioned, darting her eyes towards the house.

His eyes followed hers as his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Don’t look there, look at me,” Juliet ordered as she stepped closer, watching as the man raised his hands higher and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Just one,” he answered.

Juliet weighed up her choices. If she shot the man in front of her, the sound would alert the other man inside and he might not be quite so amenable, but she was too injured to take the tall one down with a knife alone. 

“You don’t have to do this, Juliet. I - I didn’t want to hurt him. But he killed Elijah and -”

Juliet cut off his rambling by lifting her gun from his chest to his head. 

“I don’t want to fucking hear it,” she ground out.

She just needed a second to think. She couldn’t afford to make mistakes here, not with Joel’s life on the line. 

“Please, just - just let me go. I won’t tell anyone you’re here,” he cut off his ramble with a hard swallow. “I have a family, we’re starting. This is all I have… please.”

Juliet looked into the man’s eyes and saw her own desperation reflected back. She turned her head to the side and tried to tune him out as he continued to beg for his life.

Just one more time. She would be cruel and merciless just one more time, and then she was done. Then she would be good. 

Juliet blinked down at the knife in her boot. Maybe, if she was quick enough, she could take him down silently with the knife, but she was running out of time and her hand was starting to go numb again - 

From the corner of her eye, Juliet watched the man’s hand reach to his back pocket. 

Her bullet hit his skull before his fingers even touched the fabric of his jeans.

He fell quickly, his bloody head banging on the door as his body crumbled. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Juliet’s ears rang with the aftermath of the shot. Her breaths were quick and shallow. She’d lost the element of surprise. Whoever was inside was coming, she had to do something now.

Maybe it was the shock of killing or the pull from knowing that Joel was inside but, instead of stepping back, assessing the situation, letting the other man come to her… Juliet used her foot to push the body away from the door and she squeezed herself into the kitchen through the gap.

She briefly turned to look down at the body as she pushed herself through and her forehead crinkled when she noticed the edge of a photograph poking out from the pocket of the man’s jeans… the pocket he was reaching for.

Juliet felt acid rise in her throat but she didn’t have time for regret, she didn’t have time for anything, because two steps into the kitchen her vision wavered, briefly going fuzzy, then flashing entirely black. 

She felt her gun slip from her fingers, crashing to the floor.

Juliet blinked as her neck rolled to the side and she peeled her head off the wall it had been smacked into. She struggled against the hands that curled around the shoulders of her jacket, dragging her across the room in a mess of turning and twisting. Juliet screamed when her injured hand hit against the man’s hard body, the pain licked up her entire arm like a fast catching fire. 

“Shut the fuck up,” the man grunted as Juliet started clawing at his face with her unmaimed hand. Her vision was returning slowly and she could make out the dining room she was pulled into and then felt the hard wood of the chair she landed in. 

Juliet felt a pricking static sensation in her head, warning her that she was about to faint. No, NO, she screamed within her mind, begging herself to stay awake, to look up, to fight back. 

A flash of scorching pain hit her cheek and Juliet jolted up, wide awake as her eyes fell on the man crouched in front of her, pinning her wrists together. 

“What’d you do to John?” he demanded, twisting her injured hand at an unnatural angle. 

Juliet clenched her teeth so hard she swore she could feel them crack. Pain was consuming her, swallowing her whole but she couldn’t let it fester, she couldn’t let it stop her from saving Joel. 

Anger was a fierce and sudden bullet, pounding in her chest, bringing her strength when she had none. 

“I gutted him,” Juliet seethed. “Just like he was going to do to me.”

She saw the realisation ripple in the man’s eyes. Juliet watched him question it, scan her face, note the dried splatters of blood, then as quick as her own, she watched his anger flood him. 

“You fucking bitch,” he spat as he released his hold on her hands and his strong grip reached for her throat. 

Juliet had fought a lot of men over the last few years, with too many scars to prove it, and if there was one lesson she had learned from every time she found herself at the mercy of their stronger fists and larger builds is that when men get angry, they become very stupid. 

With her hands released from his grip, she slid down to her boot, gripping her knife as the man’s fingers brushed her tender neck. As he began to squeeze, crushing her windpipe and extinguishing all air from her lungs, Juliet angled her knife and pushed, biting into flesh.

“Fuck,” the man grunted as he released her and sunk back, gripping his bleeding thigh.

Juliet didn’t waste her opportunity, she used her foot to kick him onto his back and she dug her knee into his chest with her knife to his throat.

Her breathing was sharp and uncontrolled as she struggled to regain the rhythm of air in her lungs.

“Joel,” Juliet said, her voice thick and raspy, “where is he?” she demanded. This house was large and time was precious, if she could pinpoint Joel’s location before killing the idiot beneath her it would speed things up.  

The man bared his teeth and gripped her arms, attempting to push her off of him, unwilling to answer.  

Another stupid decision, Juliet thought, being that the pointed edge of her knife was nearly piercing his skin. 

She shook her head and pushed the tip in until blood pooled in the hollow of his throat. 

The man gasped and stilled the movement of his hands, watching her with a growing expression of disgust.

“You’re fucking your father’s killer, huh?” he snarled through clenched teeth, “what would he think of his little girl now?” 

Juliet surprised herself with the laugh that bubbled out of her. Even as she had a knife to his throat, the man still saw her as a little girl. What power those words would have had on her only a few years ago, but now… now she felt nothing. 

“Rot in hell,” she whispered, then drove the knife forward.

Juliet didn’t waste any more time on the man bleeding out on the floor. She just swung her leg off of his chest and stood, wiping her knife on her trousers.

Then she walked out the dining room on weak legs while the man’s gargles and coughs faded as he choked on his own blood. 

It was only her and Joel now, she just had to get to him.

Juliet stood in the hall, blood roaring in her ears as she begged her memories of this house not to eat her alive. 

Her eyes caught sight of the basement door and Juliet’s stomach dropped. He was down there, Juliet was sure of it. If they wanted revenge on the man who killed Elijah, surely they would take him back to the scene of the crime.

Her hand met the handle. It was unlocked.

Juliet’s knees almost gave out. The men clearly weren’t worried about Joel trying to leave, that meant… that meant…

She swung the door open and her feet crashed down the fourteen steps to the basement, nearly stumbling at the bottom as Juliet whipped her head around, trying to find Joel in the low light. 

Something inside her knew what they would have done with him, so Juliet allowed her feet to take her to him, to take her to his motionless body in the metal chair by the unlit fireplace. 

Time didn’t exist at that moment, it was as though the earth stopped turning. 

Her hand swept over his face and her fingers dug into his wet hair. Juliet felt the acid in her stomach rise as she realised that the wetness was blood. It covered his forehead and dripped down the back of the metal chair.

He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving? 

“Joel, Joel, JOEL,” Juliet started to chant at varying volumes. Her voice was trembling and her words were slurred as she gripped his wrist, desperately trying to find a pulse.

His skin was so cold, Juliet couldn’t understand why it was so cold. 

Her fingers were shaking, she couldn’t find a pulse.

Juliet wasn’t sure when the tears started but she began to see them drip onto Joel’s face, mixing in with the blood which lay on his skin. Finally, her legs gave out and Juliet slid down to the ground until her head rested on Joel’s thighs. 

“Please come back,” she begged through her trembling sobs, “please don’t leave me.”

This was all her fault. This was all her fault. This was all her fault. 

They should have stayed in Jackson, they should have never left. Joel should have stayed away from her, she was too damaged, too selfish, too desperate. 

She did this, she did this. 

“I’m sorry,” Juliet cried, grasping her good hand around the material of his jacket, pulling and tugging as though it would wake him up, as though it would save him. 

Juliet, still sobbing, began to crawl up his body until her forehead rested against his. 

“Please don’t leave me,” she wailed, “I can’t do this without you.”

She began to kiss his face, curling her arm around his neck and rocking him towards her. “Please don’t leave me. Please.”

Her love for Joel was pouring out of her, her breath was caught in it, it was choking her. She never got to say it to him, she never got to tell him that she loved him. Juliet had been too afraid, too angry at him, too angry at herself. She was too fearful of what it would mean. 

Now, she had lost her chance.

“I love you,” Juliet whispered against his bloodied skin. “I’m sorry.”

Her fingers traced his face and fell to his neck, curling around his throat, trying to pull him closer.

He can’t be gone. He can’t be gone. He can’t be gone. 

Movement pulsed beneath her fingertips. Juliet’s head pulled back so fast she felt darkness tinge the edges of her vision. 

She pressed harder against his throat and waited, and waited, and - 

A pulse. She felt it. 

Juliet gasped, intaking too much air and nearly choking. He was alive, barely, but surely she didn’t imagine the feel of his heart slowly beating.

“Joel,��� she sobbed, touching his face, willing his eyes to open, willing herself not to be imagining this fierce thread of hope. 

He wasn’t waking up, he still wasn’t moving. The minutes stretched beyond their limits.

Juliet brushed the bloodied hair off his forehead. “I love you,” she croaked, “please come back to me.”

If he just woke up, she could get him on his feet, they could get out of the basement. Juliet would find him some medical supplies for his head and they could leave this place, they could go back to Jackson. 

If he just opened his eyes, a future would still exist for her. Because, without him… Juliet didn’t want to keep going. He was her hope, her belief that things could get better. If he didn’t wake up - 

A low groan slid from Joel’s grey lips. 

Juliet staggered back, giving him his space. His eyes were moving beneath his eyelids, and his fingers began to curl into fists. 

“Joel,” she breathed. 

His eyelids cracked open. Joel’s brown eyes found her, then his mouth moved in the shape of a word but no sound came out.

Juliet reached for his face, the bloodstained tears that poured from her eyes met his leather jacket, but she kept going, she couldn’t stop touching him, she couldn’t stop reminding him that she was here, to come back to her. 

His lips curled again, spelling out a word she still couldn’t make out. 

“Don’t try to speak,” she urged in a trembling voice, “it’s okay.”

Joel reached for her, his fingers grasping on the ruined jacket that once belonged to him. She moved forward, pressing herself against him, allowing him to pull her in.

Finally, she heard the word he kept chanting:

“Juliet.”

............................................

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom @joelmillersblog @socialistmary @orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @caitlynsixxx

[soulofapatrick]

The Last Dance - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You and Joel share a domestic moment before you have to leave the Boston QZ to deliver Ellie to the fireflies

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst but fluffy too

Notes: Listen to We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn while reading 

Y/N’s POV

The air is thick with tension as Joel and I prepare to leave the QZ and embark on our dangerous mission. We’re silently pack our bags and checking our weapons, knowing what is at stake. Tess has gone to prepare things and scope out a route with the least about of danger before picking Ellie up on her way back to us. My heart is full despite the situation we’re about to head into as Joel and Tess trust me enough to bring me with them.

I had first met Joel and Tess shortly after arriving at the Boston QZ. I was alone and scared, everyone from the group I was travelling with dead or abandoned me and I was a scared seventeen year old trying to navigate my way through the unfamiliar streets. I remember feeling like a lost child, vulnerable and exposed. Then I saw them.

- - 

They were walking down the dusty street, their backs straight and their eyes scanning their surroundings with an intensity that made me feel like I was intruding on something private.

Tess was the first to turn and look at me, and I was struck by her appearance. She was tall and lean, with a lithe, athletic build that suggested she was no stranger to physical exertion. Her hair was a short, shoulder length mass of chestnut, and her eyes were a bright, almost electric blue that seemed to see right through me. She wore a tight-fitting leather jacket and dark cargo pants, both of which were worn and weathered from use.

Joel, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice me at first. His gaze was fixed on something in the distance, his face set in a hard line. He was a broad-shouldered man with a greying beard that matched his fluffy soon to be salt and pepper hair. His eyes a deep brown that seemed to hold a world of pain and experience, and his face etched with lines that spoke of a hard life lived. He wore a simple button-down shirt and cargo pants, both of which were practical and unassuming.

As I approached them, I couldn't help but feel intimidated by their presence. They looked like they had seen and survived things that were beyond my wildest imagination. But, as they turned to face me, their expressions softened, and I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they could help me.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice shaky. "Do you know where I can find shelter?”

"Come with us," Tess replied finally after the pair studied me for a minute or two, her voice commanding and firm, making the scared child within me unable to say no, especially when she softened a little and that Illinois accent came through when she added, "We can help you.” 

And just like that, I was welcomed into their circle. They showed me where to find food and shelter, and taught me how to navigate the QZ safely. Over time, we grew closer, sharing stories about our lives before the outbreak and dreaming about what the future might hold.

- - 

I must have stopped packing as a large and calloused hand brushes my arm reassuringly, Joel appearing in my line of sight with his brow creased in worry and… nervousness? There’s a song playing on the old record player I had scavenged months ago: We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn. Joel’s hand moving down my arm until he’s holding it out for me to take and asking with a small and rare smile on his weatherworn lips, "May I have this dance?" 

I can’t mask the surprise, but I don’t decline, slipping my hand into his and letting him pull me flush against his chest. There’s something vulnerable in those honey eyes of his as the light from the single lamp casts a warm glow over the room and I think I’m still daydreaming as no way the tough, no-nonsense survivor who has been through so much is asking me to dance. But we are dancing. We start to sway slowly, his strong and safe arms wrapped around my waist and my head moving to rest on his shoulder, feeling his body against mine all muscular and warm. I’ve missed this kind of human connection, finding some peace and calm amidst the chaos. It's like time has stopped, and we're in our own little world, away from the danger and the fear or what’s to come this evening. We’ve been though so much, fighting tooth and nail to survive in this shitty post apocalyptic world and moments like this are now few and far between.

As we dance, I can’t help but let myself feel a sense of comfort and safety wash over me. Joel's presence is grounding, reminding me that even in this brutal world, there can be moments of tenderness and connection. I close my eyes and let myself get lost in the music, in the sensation of being held by someone who cares about me even if he’s unable to utter those exact words I’ve been wanting to hear for months. 

But then Joel speaks up, breaking the silence.

"I know… I know this is risky, what we're about to do," he says, his voice low and serious. "But I also know that it's important. We're doing something good, something that will make a difference."

I look up at him, struck by the intensity in his eyes. I can’t ignore it, a feeling of unspoken love that seems to flow between us. It's as if we're communicating without saying a single word, and in that moment, nothing else matters but the two of us. I can feel his heart beating against mine, and as we move together, I can't help but feel that this is where I belong, wrapped in his arms, lost in his gaze. It's as if the world around us has faded away, leaving just the two of us and the music. I know that we have a dangerous mission ahead of us, that we'll be facing untold dangers and risks, but for now, all that matters is this moment, this dance, and the unspoken love that we share.

"I know," I finally speak, my voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't make it any less scary."

Joel nods, understanding.

"I know," he says, voice just as soft and quiet. "But we have each other. We're in this together."

As we dance, Joel's hand rests gently on my back, pulling me closer. I rest my head against his chest again, feeling his heartbeat under my ear. It's a comforting sound, and I close my eyes, cherishing this moment of peace. Trying to ignore the silent weight of our mission pressing down on us and the knowledge that we might not all make it out alive. But in this moment, with Joel holding me close and the music playing, it's easy to forget. It's easy to imagine that we're just two people in love, lost in each other.

And maybe that's what we are, in a way. We've been through so much together, seen things that no one should ever have to see. But through it all, we've found something special between us. Something that's kept us going, even in the darkest moments. He feels it to with the way his fingers hook under my chin and make me look up at him again, his face dipping down and his lips ghosting over mine. It's so gentle, barely there, but it sends shivers down my spine. My eyes slipping shut, trying to savour the moment, and then the kiss ends just as quickly as it began. It's like a spark in the dark, and then it's gone. 

The music fades away and the dance comes to an end, Joel and I stare into each other's eyes, knowing that our moment of peace is coming to an end. The thought of leaving his arms and facing the dangers that lie ahead fills me with a sense of dread, and I can tell from the look in his eyes that he feels the same way. We’re both silent, lost in our own thoughts, neither of us wanting to break the spell of the moment. I can feel the warmth of his hands on my back, the gentleness of his touch, and the way his fingers caress my skin sends shivers down my spine but as we reluctantly let go of each other, I feel a sense of loss, aching to be back in his arms once more. We both know that we're heading into danger, that there's a chance we may not make it back alive, and the thought of not feeling his touch again fills me with a sense of desperation. 

The door is opening and I can feel the flush of embarrassment spread across my face as I realise that we've been standing there, lost in each other's eyes, while Tess and Ellie have been waiting for us to grab our stuff and head out, the darkness outside ready to cloak us. It takes every fibre in my body to look away from Joel, breaking the connection, and feel a sense of emptiness settle in my chest. The sense of loss, of longing for the touch of Joel's arms around me settles deep in my bones. It's as if I've tasted something so wonderful and now I can't have it again, and the ache in my heart only grows stronger as we move further away. 

I know that we have to focus on the mission, that there are lives at stake, but in this moment, all I can think about is the loss of that touch, the loss of that connection. And as we face the dangers that lie ahead, I'll carry this ache with me, this longing for the comfort and safety of Joel’s arms.

----------------

TAGS: Tag List Form

@words-are-cheap @clover723 @a-psych0s-w0rld @sexyvixen7 @iraot @gemimawrites @pedropascalsrealhusband @twopercentmilk @amythenortherner @sxnshinebxcky @nelsoomon @urnewghostfriend @grooveandshit @reyas-world @canpillowscry @androgynoysgaz @outl4wage @ginger-swag-rapunzel @quinnverses @librafilms @leonkennedyslefthand @notsosecretspy @intergalacticspacemonkey @certifiedhunter @yourmommilf @mediocrewallflow3r @fariylixie0915 @randomhoex @secretsthathauntus @ems-alexandra @pedr0swh0r3 @quinnsgrapejuice @marvelsimps @cutesyscreenname @missmomiverse @midgetpottermills @pedritosdarling​ @letsgroovetonighttt​

[something-tofightfor]

CONGRATS ON 2500! 🥳

That’s a huge milestone and one that you deserve so damn much- and one that deserves to be celebrated.

I followed you many moons ago for your immersive, detailed, fleshed out, lovingly characterized plot driven writing, and I ended up being lucky enough to get not only all of that but also a friendship that means the world to me. So thank you, of course, for sharing your stories, but also for being an honest, supportive, caring friend. I frickin love you. 🖤

As for your writing, you know how I feel about NL and what a special place in my heart that story holds already, so I’ll move on from there to some other things on your Masterlist that absolutely transport me to another dimension.

Ink/Ransom. Buried. Magnetic. - these stories are EPIC and thrilling and full of action and suspense and risk and so much reward.

And can we talk for a second about the emotional whirlwind that is Tonight? And the fucking grace with which that heavy material was handled? A masterpiece.

And some things I’m SUPER excited to see more of?- your Ezra. Christmas Frankie. Sandwich. And I’m HELLO? OBERYN MOTHERFUCKING MARTELL! Because you’re already nailing the prince of dorne and I cannot WAIT for everyone to know.

Things I’ve read (way) more than once- HNH history interlude, NL and JaP. The Ezra ABCs. The Billy ABCs. Christmas Ezra. Main Street Logan!

Look. I just love how much heart and hard work and care and energy you put into everything you do. You don’t half ass your stories or your friendships and I think that’s pretty rad. And 2500 people agree. Which is also super fucking rad. 🤘🏻

Alyssa. (already including a cut because it's gonna be long)

It has been many moons, hasn't it? You've known me since the beginning of my tumblr writing - and to be honest, I don't know if I'd still be writing here if you hadn't been so damn supportive.

Thank you for being the voice of reason - and for telling me when things just don't work. Thank you for letting me bounce ideas off of you in the middle of the night. Thank you for listening to my half cocked ideas and encouraging them. I'm so goddamn angry at the state of Pennsylvania ALL THE TIME and wish I could make it disappear so that we weren't 9 hours apart. Your friendships is one of a kind, and that has nothing to do with writing, so I hope you know that us sharing that interest (among others) is just the cherry on top of the gluten and dairy free ice cream sundae.

NL ... yes. I know. Ink and Ransom ... I was so surprised by that one; another daydream that turned into Logan being a hero and doing exactly what he needed to do. Buried ... if there's a sad cowboy, you know I'm helpless, and writing that Jack has given me a lot of opportunity to play with his emotions and let him go Through It without depriving him of true happiness ... I can't wait to get back to it. Magnetic is another - I fell so hard so fast for Din and that tiny green child, and I wanted to see what he was capable of in terms of growth and change.

Tonight is one that I'm still so shocked that I was able to convincingly write; it's a tough topic, and one that I think Logan would truly worry about - and while I'm still really happy with it, I think that writing it in the POV I chose made it so much more difficult in the end.

I wish I was nailing the Prince of Dorne, but that's another thing entirely. I'm so fucking PUMPED to get back to Ezra and Frankie and the Sandwich. I'm also really excited for Joel (but nowhere near as excited as I am to read all of Survivor Blues).

I know how often you did/do go back and read that interlude - and that makes me so damn happy, because it was meant to be a little throwaway piece ... but it ended up becoming such an important part of Billy's story and characterization. I definitely want to write a couple more ABCs ... Logan. Whiskey. Frankie. Joel. dffsajsfa oops. That was supposed to be a secret.

You are amazing in every way. Thank you for everything - always. I've added your name to the giveaway list.

Want to learn more about my 2,500 follower giveaway and enter before it closes at midnight tonight?

Check out this link here!

[starfighter10]

tlou2 opinion

So I really had to share my opinion(rant) on the last of us part 2 and boy I have a lot to say. I am gonna dwell deep into this one, so bear with me if you can and want to

 But before that I have to share the feelings I hold for tlou1.Back when I finished tlou1, I knew I experienced something truly magical. I was pleasantly surprised by the beautifully crafted story, the execution of the characters, the music, the gameplay , and the effort that went into shaping the journey of the game,the character arcs and bonds. You could see and experience the uniqueness and passion that went into the first project. This game immediately became a favourite of mine.

When tlou2 was announced, my expectations were skyhigh,was elated to continue Joel and Ellie's journey and how it unfolds. The bar set by the first one was exceptionally high and probably impossible to achieve, but I had trust and faith in naughty dog, thought they couldn't go wrong with this one. After experiencing tlou2 , I am speechless.... not in a good way. I have no words to express my disappointment,frustration and anger I feel right now. I don't even know where to begin.... the absolute mess of a plot, the original characters being blatantly ignored, retconned and disrespected in favour of new bland characters, the plotholes in the story, the false advertising and marketing, naughty dog's hubris, making a complete mockery of your fans who are paying money to play something but getting baited for something else. I am utterly heartbroken and angry.

The plot - the driving force of the game is over ambitious, lazy,sloppy and nihilistic. It felt forced. Naughty dog bit off more then they could chew with this one. Tlou2 could have gone several ways in terms of plot with the existing characters, yet we get the cliche revenge plotline with the character abandoning the quest altogether to realise revenge isn't the answer. This trope has been done several times before, with more finesse and better execution. The writers aim for the " Ellie breaks the cycle of the revenge" but it really fails to achieve this as she blatanly annihilates several characters,npcs along the way in quest of her revenge. The damage has been done practically speaking. According to naughty dog's logic , I should expect Nora's sister or a random npc's friend/relatives in tlou3 hunting down Ellie in their revenge quest. Also Abby's quest literally does nothing for me. This character was so poorly written, executed and shoved down our throats, I didn't have any sort of attachment or empathy for her. I simply don't care about this character.

The circumstances that lead to Joel's death was out of character as well. Since the trailer drop in 2016, I was prepared for his inevitable death. Thought he would probably go out like the badass he is, maybe sacrificing himself for Ellie/tommy. The Joel I know from tlou1, a hardened survivor who has fought tooth and nail to survive the past 20 years would NEVER end up in a situation like that. Joel was intensely alert, critical,clever and intuitive. The argument here may be that he has softened in Jackson, but I feel at this point this should be 2nd nature to him. Something that is automatic. Yet the writer's now want you to believe he is a dumbass who would trust a group of strangers, make small talk and introductions and end up in a situation like that. One of the bigger issues was the constant reinforcing that Joel wiped down the fireflies in cold blood and doomed humanity for death by robbing them of their cure for survival,Ellie believing the cure would have been a guaranteed sure shot success ..... WHY? This retcons the first one completely. The beauty of the tlou1 was it's moral ambiguity and uncertainty. We were constantly hinted that fireflies is a mess of a group whose agendas weren't clearly known, whose actions caused the sacrifice of many people for the sake of a slight possibility of a cure.They were power hungry and were cruel enough to send a 14 year old girl to her death with no remorse,consent or any proper investigation or medical research. Joel initially negotiates to find someone else, gets shut down immediately, gets his means of survival snatched and was practically marched to his death. He had no option but to wipe clean these people who planned on killing someone dear to him, for something that is uncertain or in vain. And yes this was a selfish decision on Joel's part, and that was the beauty of it. The moral ambiguity. He was right or wrong or both - open to your interpretation. BUT NOW NAUGHTY DOG WANTS TO TO ERASE ALL THAT DEVELOPMENT. The active reinforcement that Joel was a cold, ruthless murderer who killed fireflies and deprived humanity of its cure? Trying to erase the fact that he was surviving and trying to keep his dear ones safe in this cold, brutal and unforgiving postapocalyptic world. So that we sympathize with Abby and enjoy golfing the tf outa Joel?. Ellie seems like a different character in this one, but again this character is immediately pushed to a whirlwind of traumatic events right from the start of the game. I missed her spark of joy,humour and enthusiasm. The treatment of the main chatacter in her own game is utterly cruel and disappointing, and seemed unfair to me. By the end, Ellie is broken beyond repair. Though she thematically chooses to be the better person and gives up on her vengeance and hate, she still manages to be on the losing side as she ends up losing her father figure which was her closest bond, loses Dina and the kid , she doesn't have her community, her people, her fucking fingers as well. Why? So Ellie could suffer a little more and be unable to do most important thing that bonded her to Joel. Not to mention she loses her switchblade too, her mother's final memory. Surprised that ND spared her mother's letter . Feel her pain and despair. Why does Ellie get such a shitty,depressing, worthless, futile and a hopeless conclusion while Abby not only gets her revenge successfully, forms a close bond in Lev and gets to escape possibly to a fresh start. Ellie? Nah she gets to suffer alone. Her BIGGEST FEAR has become a reality by the end. The least they could do is let Ellie have some solace and calm, surrounded by her loved ones on that farm,her trying to recover from her trauma slowly but surely, it's what joel would have wished for. But no, she is left all alone, absolutely traumatized, all by herself with nothing to look forward to. Oh and tommy is whole new character in every scene. So keep your eyes peeled for various versions of tommy throughout. The character inconsistencies are ridiculous.

The gameplay, beautiful sceneries, and new characters like dina and jesse are few of the positives of game - leaning more towards Jesse. Dina felt perfect for Ellie and Jesse did manage to lighten up few of the moments. The space shuttle cutscene, the museum flashback sequence, ellie and joel's flashbacks were the only parts that remotely captures the magic and beauty of tlou1. I got emotional watching them. The space shuttle sequence hits you with the feels. Joel slaying a bloater with a machete was cinematic art. (Hot too)

Abby... the forced deuteragonist, is an utter failure of character execution. Her character was forced onto us, felt hasty and lacked real build up. She starts off on the wrong foot by killing one of the most popular characters. If ND really wanted this character to work, the only possible way would have been to play her point of view and backstory prior to her mercilessly killing and torturing a guy who just saved her life. What was ND thinking? That a few hours of her pov,forced out of the blue background story, her getting to play with dogs while ellie has no option but to attack the dogs, the abby-lev bond which is pretty much discount or the walmart version ellie and joel would be enough to side with her over ellie and joel???? The part where they force you to play as abby against ellie? It made me sick. I felt cheated and disgusted.

The false advertising to make us believe joel is alive and good? That this is an ellie and joel centric game?To tug at your heartstrings like this. A complete mockery of the fans who waited 7 years to see their favorite characters get horribly treated,retconned, disrespected and thrown under the bus in favour of new unlikable characters. Butchering the heart and soul of the last of us - Joel and Ellie's bond. The fact that these two don't even get a heart to heart before his death, that Joel dies uncertain of ellie's future, maybe thought he could not save Ellie in those final painful moments, that she had never forgiven him, Ellie never getting her closure with Joel, or really getting to tell him how much he meant to her.... all these thoughts legit made me shed tears. Broke my heart. This is how much ND wanted to honour and respect ellie and joel.

The game's conclusion is hollow, futile, worthless and depressing. And in my opinion, this is non canon. This is the only way I can cope with this unsastifying conclusion. It is immaturity I guess... but I will feel better about it.

Though I utterly despise tlou2, tlou1 will continue to remain one of my favorite pieces of work in fiction. JOEL FUCKING MILLER WILL ALWAYS BE THE BADDEST BITCH AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THE LOVE I HAVE FOR HIM.

If someone actually read it all the way, thank you for your time and effort. Really needed to rant and let these negative emotions out.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

You’ve been the only thing that’s right in all I’ve done

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Survivor Blues

SIMILAR SCARS : TOMMY’S POV

A/N: Hi friends! I hope you’re all having a great weekend and doing well. First of all, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has read and commented on this story thus far - your support means the world to me! Secondly, I am so darn sorry that this story has taken such a long break. It was completely unintentional and in no way indicative of how excited I am to be writing it. That being said, it is officially back in action effective immediately, and I am pumped to share this part of it. I really enjoyed getting inside Tommy’s head, so I hope you like it, too. This is the second interlude within the main story of Survivor Blues, and should be read between Part Three & Part Four. 

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: language, character death, loss, grief, trauma, PLOT SPOILERS FOR TLOU, feel free to message me if you have questions  

Summary: When you mention that you recently lost your nephew, Tommy understands all too well what you’re going through. 

On the morning that he was scheduled to meet you at the stables to take you out on your first trail sweep, Tommy had the alarm clock beat by nearly an hour. 

Knew I wasn’t gonna need it when I set it. 

Right arm bent with that hand stuffed under his pillow, he stared up at the ceiling as the bedroom slowly filled with light. His eyes followed the spidery line of a crack he’d been meaning to repair - and that Maria had been jokingly threatening to hire a professional for. 

“I’m sure your brother wouldn’t mind taking care of it,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye and a playful smirk pulling at her lips. 

“I’ll get to it this weekend, woman,” he grumbled back through a grin, kissing the corner of her mouth. 

That had been three weekends ago, the crack lengthening by a few millimeters since then. Shit, I really have to do something about that ‘fore she does get Joel over here. I’d never hear the end of it. From either of ‘em. 

There was no shortage of small emergencies or other things around Jackson that took priority though, and there were still only twenty four hours in a day, so Tommy knew that Maria understood when smaller issues slid under the radar. She was equally busy and constantly being pulled in different directions herself, the responsibilities of running a town stretching endless just like the crack above their heads. But she pulls it off. We pull it off together. 

Tilting his chin, he looked down through his lashes at his wife, a warm surge of affection, appreciation and pride swirling in his chest. I love this woman with everything I got. In sleep, she had rolled onto her side, shifting close enough for Tommy to loop his left arm loosely around her shoulders, one of hers thrown over his middle. There were only a few minutes left before the alarm was set to sound, but he still tried not to wake her as his fingertips ghosted along the skin of her bicep. Gotta rest when we can. 

Like everyone that had survived as long as they had, they both had plenty of things to keep them up at night. Or wake them well before their alarms. 

That morning - that whole week - for him, it was Sarah. 

Actually, it was you. It was what you’d said your first night in town, sitting at one of the tables in the community center. It was how you’d said it - and what it immediately made him feel. 

It was what it shook loose in his heart. 

A long sigh left his lungs empty. Removing his hand from under the pillow and scrubbing it down over his face, he took a slow breath to fill them again, recalling the look you wore and the broken sound of your voice when you said that you’d lost your nephew. A kid. She lost a kid. When you said that you were alone. And she had no one to… 

It sliced at him, knowing how much a loss like that hurt, knowing what it felt like to try to process something like that. Shit. For years I didn’t fuckin’ process it at all. Tommy knew what it was like to suffer a loss like the one that you had recently suffered, and then shove it down and hold it in and seal it off until it turned toxic. Until it consumed you. 

That was what losing Sarah had done to him. It’s what it had done to Joel. And though the two of them spent the first decade after the outbreak together, in all that time they never did talk about the most devastating loss either of them would ever feel. Not in any meaningful way. And it… it tore us apart. Made us ugly. Made us… made us into monsters that Sarah wouldn’t even recognize. 

Tommy had watched his older brother go from a carefree teenager to a responsible, stretched-too-thin-but-damned-if-he’s-not-trying single father when he was essentially still a kid himself. He watched Joel work overtime and pick up odd jobs to make ends meet, trade in weekends spent with friends at football tailgates for trips to the park or the zoo with his daughter, and he watched the way he beamed whenever he talked about his baby girl. 

And then she was just gone. And in almost every way that mattered, so was Joel. And Tommy lost both of them. 

A hollow, hopeless feeling had taken hold of him as he stood in that field, choking on his brother’s name in response to the hysterical pleas for help that he was powerless to give. Because I knew. I knew there was nothin’ I could do and- 

And I should have run faster. I should have gotten there sooner. I should have taken the shot from further away, before that asshole had the chance to- 

Those were the thoughts he’d spent years fighting back. That was the guilt that he bent beneath, that he carried with him every step he took. That feeling that he could have - should have - somehow been able to change the outcome, that he had somehow failed his brother and his niece. That- 

That it should have been me if it had to be any of us. 

They still crept up on him from time to time, those dark, painful thoughts. That sharp, jagged guilt still cut. The echoes of the night Sarah died still haunted him. But the ghosts that swirled in his chest and gathered in his throat to make it hard to breathe were interrupted that particular morning by the curl of Maria’s fingers against his side.

It had taken him the better part of twenty years and falling in love with the most stubborn, determined, compassionate woman he’d ever met, but Tommy was finally able to forgive himself for surviving. He knew, though, that had more to do with having Maria in his life than the amount of time that passed. Because she… He opened his eyes and cast them down at her again as she shifted, inhaling a slow breath through her nose as his t-shirt wrinkled beneath her cheek. She brought me back to life. Tilting his chin, he buried his lips in her hair, kissing the crown of her head. Showed me bein’ here was still worthwhile. Showed me how to do more than survive. 

It had been at Maria’s urging that he finally opened up about losing Sarah. That he finally grieved and mourned and set free all of the things he’d forced himself to hold inside. She let him share his agony and his rage with her, opened her arms and took as much of it from him as she could. And then she urged him to move forward. 

“Tommy.” She muttered his name without lifting her cheek or opening her eyes, but he felt her slide her hand up his side to settle on his chest. Instinctively, the arm he already had around her drew her in closer to his body, the other dropping down to join it as he hummed a response. “You’re awake.” I am. Her palm moved slowly over the cotton of his tee to rest over his heart as he pressed another kiss to her forehead, this one lingering. “You have been for a while.” I have. 

“Well, good mornin’ to you, too.” He swung for humor and missed, letting out a sigh when her only response was to lift her face to look at him. No use in sugarcoating it, not with her. It was one of the things he loved most about his wife - that she preferred to handle things head on, even early in the morning. “Yeah.” He nodded as he reached to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I’ve been up. Got some things on my mind I guess.” 

Eyes on him, she leaned into his touch, letting his hand curve around the side of her head as she nodded against his palm. “I know.” Of course you do. “I saw your face in the community center the other night, Tommy.” She pushed herself up so that she was resting her weight on one elbow, the other arm still slung over his chest as his hand dropped down to her back. “I know what she said about her nephew… I know you’re thinking about Sarah.” 

Right to the chase, no bullshit. He swallowed, lips twitching between a thin smile for how readily she understood him and a slight frown for the pang of heartache he felt whenever he thought of his niece. “Just… reminded me of how hard it was. To be so… so alone with all’a that.” Shit. He closed his eyes, the lids wrinkling as a wave of emotion made him clench them even more tightly. 

“Hey.” Maria spoke, fingertips coming up to trace the arch of his brow. He opened his eyes at her touch, just in time to see her gently shake her head from side to side. “You’re not alone with it anymore, right?” 

Tommy glanced over to the bedside table. The alarm clock was still waiting to sound, but that wasn’t where his focus fell, straying instead to the other item that stood there. It was a framed photo - one of himself, Joel, and Sarah, the girl wearing a medal around her neck and holding a soccer ball, laughter and happiness frozen on all of their faces, his and Joel’s looking 20 some odd years younger. Though it was under glass now, there were creases that he could still see from where the picture had been bent and folded from living in his pocket the whole trek up from Texas, spots where the color had faded with age and exposure. But it was and always would be one of his most cherished possessions. My family. He brought his focus back to his wife. Our family.  

“No.” He answered. “I’m not.” 

“You should talk to her,” she suggested. “You’re takin’ her through a sweep today, right?” You know I am. He nodded. “Let her know she doesn’t need to be alone with it either. I tried to... When I was showing her her new place? I… ” She sighed, sadness clouding her expression for a second, and Tommy knew that it was because even though she’d never met the girl, Maria also mourned for Sarah. Her heart ached for Tommy and for Joel and for the girl that never got to grow up before their eyes. “I think it would mean more comin’ from you, though.” 

Is that a good idea? He’d been wondering the same thing, but had been unsure of how to broach the topic without opening the book on his brother’s history, too. “You… you think?” 

“I do.” Maria’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips. “You… I’m sure you understand what she’s goin’ through.” 

Tommy sighed. “I dunno, Maria, I- Joel still doesn’t really talk about her much, ‘specially not to people he doesn’t know, and I don’t want to-” 

She didn’t let him continue, her tone not angry but firm as she cut him off. “You lost her, too, Tommy. You went through that pain, too, and I understand you wanting to respect Joel’s space and not wanting to tell his story. I do.” For all the bristling she did towards his brother when they first met, Tommy knew that his wife had come to love Joel. And Ellie. “But you can certainly tell yours. And Tommy?” She paused and he felt her eyes sweep over his face before she continued, letting her fingers comb through his hair. “I think it’ll be good for you to talk about it too, it’s not just for her.” 

He stared back at her in silence for a beat wondering how on Earth she always knew the right thing to say. How she was always able to ground him and guide him, even when he didn’t know he’d started drifting. When he did speak, he blew out a short amused breath, narrowing his eyes. “Where do you get off bein’ right all the damn time, woman? Huh?”

She smiled warmly, faint wrinkles gathering in the corners of her eyes and around the edges of her mouth. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.” He watched the light in her expression shift from comforting to teasing, and then before she even moved, he knew she was about to flick her gaze upwards. “Speaking of tough jobs,” she proved him right, looking up above their heads and using the hand that had been on his chest to point at the ceiling. “I really will get Joel over here to patch that up if you don’t d-” 

His arms enveloped her then, folding her close to his chest so that her laughter was swallowed up as he flipped her onto her back. “You better not say a word to him about that, or-” 

The tinny sound of the alarm clock cut through the rest of his empty threat, and it died on his lips as Maria reached over to silence it. Tapping his arm, she gave him a sleepy smile. “Time to get up, c’mon.” 

Instead of rolling over immediately though, he looked down at the woman who had revived his heart, who had helped him find reasons to keep going, who had made him happier than he ever imagined possible, and before the two of them surrendered to the start of the day, untangling from each other and rising from the bed to tend to their daily responsibilities, he lowered his face to hers and kissed her deeply. 

Pulling back slowly, he nudged the tip of her nose with his. “Thank you.” He leaned forward to brush his lips along her temple, and though his next words were muffled by her skin, he knew she heard them. “You know what for.” 

For loving me. For letting me in. For accepting all the shit I’ve done. For trusting me. For everything. 

She wrapped her arms around him and held him there for the length of a few breaths, then turned her cheek so that she could press it to his bearded one. “Anytime, handsome.” She squeezed, and he heard one more word slip out before she let go. “Always.” 

When she tapped his bicep again, Tommy moved aside so that she could get up, and with a handful of yawns and a few cracks from achy joints, the two of them started their day.

–  –  –  –  

He waited until the two of you had made it out to the turnaround point to say anything that wasn’t directly related to trail patrol protocol. 

Until then, you’d been fairly quiet, only answering his questions and asking the few that you had along the way. Though he’d been focused on assessing your capability to join the patrol team - which he determined you’d be a good fit for - he was also trying his best to gauge what your reaction might be to what he was about to bring up. Because even though he agreed with Maria, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot. This is a big fuckin’ gamble, but… He lifted his eyes from his hands where he was shucking his gloves, bringing them up to watch you sign your name and his in the logbook that sat on the dusty table in the dining room of the safe house. But I think it’s the right move. 

“Under the notes column I just wrote all clear,” you said, using the pen to point at the page with a shrug. “Looks like that’s what other people wrote, so I figured-” 

“Yeah, that’s right.” He nodded, tucking his gloves in his jacket pocket. Using the toe of one boot, he hooked a chair leg and dragged it out before sinking into the seat with a sigh. “You see any infected you just write how many and where and if you took ‘em out or…” He trailed off as you flipped through the log, the pages crinkling as you turned them. 

Your eyes caught on a specific entry and widened slightly, and before he could wonder which it was, you read it aloud. “9/7/2036 - Joel and Tommy - 3 clickers in garage on Frontier Rd. - killed all 3.” Oh, that one. Returning to the current page, you set the pen down like a bookmark and looked up at him as you pulled out a chair for yourself. “Doesn’t sound fun.” 

He blew out a burst of air and shook his head. “It wasn’t.” Because we didn’t see the third one until we were already in there and… He cleared his throat and blinked away the memory. Doesn’t matter now. “It’s not common, runnin’ into that many of ‘em this close to town. But we like to keep it that way so when we can, we put ‘em down.” You nodded, a small furrow deepening in your brow. “If we can’t? Too many or…” He gestured vaguely with one hand. “We do the smart thing, and we log it so we can keep track of where we know they are until we can come up with a plan for dealing with ‘em.”  

You ran your finger over the page of the ledger that you’d just filled out, scanning the previous weeks and months of sweeps. “Makes sense.” 

Tommy knocked his knuckles against the table. “Good. Yeah, it’s pretty straightforward. You’ll always be with a partner. And you always make both of you comin’ back safely a priority. Sound like somethin’ you can be on board with?”  

Taking a breath, you nodded before letting it back out. “Yeah. Definitely. I…” You cleared your throat, swallowing hard. “I can start right away, too. I’m ready.” 

He lifted one eyebrow, watching you closely. She’s lookin’ for distractions so she doesn’t have to sit home alone with… He clicked his tongue. Shit. “Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll get you added to rotation this week. I’m sure there’s someone who could use a day off.” 

Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. “Yeah. I’ll take whatever shifts don’t coincide with the bakery hours.” 

I did that, too. When I first got here. Spent all my time doin’ repairs and ridin’ trails. So I didn’t have to face any of the shit I was pushing down. 

He said your name and frowned at the way you seemed surprised by the sound of it. “We don’t need you runnin’ yourself into the ground, alright? I’ll get you on the schedule, but -” Now or never. You sat in silence across from him, eyes wider than they’d gone when you’d read about the infected he and Joel dispatched a few months back. “But I want you to know that you don’t have to keep yourself busy all the time.” 

You started to protest, shaking your head, words stumbling out of your mouth. “No, Tommy, it’s… I’d rather, I want-” 

He held up one palm as you went silent again, and he let out a deep breath. “I know what you’re trying to do. Because I spent a long time doin’ the same thing, and I can tell you that all it does is make it harder and draw it out and-” He felt his throat thicken. “And if you don’t work through it, it’ll eat you up inside and-” 

Your head was moving side to side more rapidly as you stood abruptly, the chair legs scraping the floor. “No, you don’t understand, I-” 

Yes I do. He spoke your name again and what he saw on your face when you looked at him made it clear that you needed to hear what he was about to say. “I do understand.” He flinched as he felt it cut sharply through his chest. “I know what it’s like. Losing family that’s way too young to-” Shit. His voice had started to waver, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

Twenty four years later, Tommy could still hear Sarah laughing as he made a joke at Joel’s expense. He could still see her face light up like the damn sun when he would show up at her soccer games. The space she took up in his heart still remembered what it was to be her uncle. 

Your voice was quiet as you spoke, more of an exhale than a whisper. “Tommy… I-” 

No. He knew you were trying to give him an out, trying to tell him that it was fine, that he didn’t have to rehash his pain to help you through yours. But it ain’t fine. And… Maria was right. I need this as much as she does. He didn’t know you well, and he hadn’t known you for long, but he knew the look in your eyes and the weight in your heart because he had seen and felt it in himself. 

Shaking his head, he cut you off and continued, taking care not to say anything that would give away the fact that he was talking about Joel’s daughter. “I… we lost my niece.” Jesus, how long’s it been since I said that out loud to someone? He watched your mouth fall open, your lower lip trembling as you took a deep and shuddering breath, and he nodded, brow creasing heavily. I know. It’s so fuckin’ unfair. “Kid was… I loved that little girl. And when she was taken from us it-” Another dense lump clogged his throat but he pushed through it, words breaking slightly. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, toughest loss I’ve had so I… when I tell you that I understand what you’re goin’ through and that I know what it’s like? It’s not just me sayin’ some shit to make you feel better.” He shook his head. “I know there’s nothin’ I can say that’s gonna make you feel better about losin’ your nephew.  But if you… you should talk about him. Doesn’t have to be to me. Doesn’t have to be now. But… don’t sit with this alone for too long. Alright?” 

I don’t want it to fuckin’ destroy you. Like it did to me for so damn long. Like it did to Joel for even longer. 

You didn’t ask any questions about what he’d said or give any indication that you were angry or offended. You didn’t storm off to find a different room to wait in until it was time to head back to town. You didn’t throw the log book in his face. You just sat there, weighing his words. 

When you did finally break your silence, you did it with one word, and a shaky, tear strained nod. “Alright.” One word, followed by two more and a hitch in your breathing. “Thank you.” 

Just like the night at the community center, Tommy reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clean bandana. Handing it over to you, he gave you what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Anytime.” 

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know! You can also fill out the form on my masterlist!

Tags: @something-tofightfor  @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @amb11 @mindidjarin @jk7789 @tentacruels @cannedsoupsucks @harriedandharassed @marauderskeeper @joelmillerscoffee @woodlandmouth @swtaura @grfields @valkblue​ @stealyourblorbos​

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Most fic writers, after watching TLOU episode 1: opens laptop to write smut and/or fluff

This bitch, after watching TLOU episode 1: opens laptop to write SAD.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

.

It’s an emotional night in the Google docs over here…

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The new chapter of Survivor Blues was a really good read. A lot of people forget about Tommy when they think of that particular loss and it has to be hard for him even all those years later. I like how he talked to Reader and how Maria talked back to him. Being direct is something that does not happen in a lot of fics so it happening here was nice to read.

Anon, come here, I want to give you a big hug. You have no idea how much this means to me. To know that you are enjoying that story - even the parts that don't focus on Joel and Reader - is filling my soul with joy right now.

Putting the rest under the cut so I can be specific without spoilers.

I agree that a lot of people tend to overlook the fact that Tommy also went through losing Sarah. Literally, right alongside Joel. I understand why though - because the plot centers on Joel and Ellie, and for the majority of the story, Tommy is out of the picture. I think that's what makes it easier to forget, or at least not focus on the fact that he went through such an unspeakably traumatic event, too.

That, and the fact that Sarah is Joel's daughter, not his. But you cannot tell me that Tommy didn't have his own special connection and bond with Sarah. You can't tell me that Sarah didn't love spending time with him and that he didn't love it just as much. There is absolutely no way that little girl didn't own a huge corner of his heart. So to me, there's no way to brush his grief and his (misplaced) guilt aside. There's no way to overlook the fact that he was hurting so much for so long.

I truly think that because Tommy and Joel ... i hesitate to say processed because I don't think either of them even started to do that for many years... maybe reacted is a better word here... because they reacted so differently to Sarah's death, and they needed such different things to be able to move on from it, them separating for as long as they did was probably the best thing that could have happened. And I think that Tommy meeting and falling in love with Maria was really what made him able to start his own healing process.

Directness between characters is something that I tend to include in my stories, because I happen to be a pretty straightforward, direct person. I am 35 years old and I don't like to play games or withhold things or dance around subjects. Life is short, and not being upfront about things or drawing things out only wastes precious time in my opinion, and time is not something that characters like Maria, Tommy and to an extent, even though she's not entirely comfortable with them yet, Reader, are willing to waste.

I know that a lot of times in stories, whether they are fanfiction or not, characters being secretive or hiding things or not being entirely truthful is common. And I know that that sort of behavior is common in real live people, too. And I know that when people or characters behave this way, it's usually for a reason - or at least it should be, and not just as a way to add tension or drama. But I also know that there's no way Tommy would be able to watch someone going through what he went through and not want to reach out. I know that Maria wouldn't be able to see the signs in her husband that he's hurting and not want to encourage him to do what he needs to do to help Reader and himself. I know that Reader, for as much as she is still wrestling with the idea of this new life ahead of her, wants to move forward in whatever way she can, so none of them are in a place right now where being indirect would do them any favors.

Thank you again for sending this in, anon. I could talk about these characters and their motives for HOURS... as you can see. And thank you again, endlessly, for reading and supporting my work. You are WONDERFUL!

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 22

read on ao3 (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 7.3k

no context spoiler for this chapter: pride and prejudice mr. darcy hand flex scene ;)

Chapter 22: 'Running Up That Hill'

Juliet's POV:

Juliet ran her finger over the map, tracing the colourful lines on the crinkled paper. The low autumn sun filtered in through the truck windows, tossing golden light onto her trembling hands. Juliet hadn’t stopped shaking since she awoke in the woods two days prior, when she finally regained some sort of lucidity. Luckily, the vibrations from the truck masked the tremble as her whole body shook with the speed of the vehicle. Joel’s driving was always an experience.  

They followed a series of bold blue lines to Cody. Joel was adamant that they would find his brother there. Juliet wasn’t so sure. She didn’t much believe in hope anymore. 

As they continued down the never ending highway, the surrounding trees began to lessen and, having lost their shadows, the sun started to blind Juliet. She squinted her eyes against the rays and her trembling fingers rose to reach for the sun visor. But as she leaned forward, the muscles in her stomach stretched and her body screamed in pain with the brutal reminder of her burn. Juliet groaned low and her arm instantly returned to her side. Sweat broke out across her forehead as she inhaled deep breaths, attempting to slow her heart rate. 

Days had passed but the pain showed no sign of lessening and Juliet was sick of playing the weakling. It was an effort not to make any more noise as pain continued to ripple through her, so she sucked in a silent breath through gritted teeth and waited for the fire in her stomach to dwindle. 

One shallow breath later and a hand, still stained with the memory of blood, reached over from its resting position on the wheel and pulled down her visor. Juliet blinked as the sun was shielded from her vision and her eyes cut to the man the hand belonged to. Joel’s stare was unreadable and his eyes dropped to her stomach before returning to her shocked face. “Careful” he murmured, before his gaze latched onto the road again.

Juliet blinked slowly, still shaken by his momentary close proximity. Somehow, no matter how long they went without a shower, Joel always managed to keep his musky scent of pine and smoke. Juliet wanted to bathe in it, let the smell entirely surround her. It reminded her of working in the QZ, side by side with Joel. It reminded her of nights spent sleeping in Bill’s truck or tucked in sleeping bags under the stars. It reminded her of that night in the dark house, her hands still soaked with his blood as she felt the scruff of his jaw scratch against her skin.  

Juliet’s hand involuntarily tensed, crinkling the map with her clenched fingers. She began to build that brick wall in her mind again, closing that memory in, desperate to keep it tucked away. Joel had killed her father. He was right, though, he had to do it, her father had to die. But how could she know that and still react the way she did to the memory of his lips on hers? She was sick, deranged even. 

Joel was wrong for her. He was too old, too angry, too mean. And yet Juliet was unable to breathe around him; when he brushed against her or held her aching body under the stars. She blinked away that memory too. 

Juliet shook her head, desperate to focus on the map in front of her. Joel was relying on her for directions, just as he had throughout their whole journey together. Ethan had attempted to sit shotgun that morning, going so far as to open the door and take the seat. Joel wasn’t having it, though. He had claimed that Ethan couldn’t read a map “for shit” and was determined that Juliet take the seat beside him. 

They had argued for a while, until Joel became almost frighteningly silent and Ethan got in the back with a few choice curse words under his breath. Juliet hadn’t realised he’d known those words. 

Now, Ethan sat with his arms crossed and his eyes latched firmly on the back of Joel’s head. Juliet snuck a peak behind her, the best she could in her pained state, and Ethan quickly met her eyes with a small smile. She tried to return the gesture but her mouth curved into more of a grimace. Juliet knew that Ethan wasn’t happy with her, that he didn’t like Joel and didn’t want to be stuck in this truck with him. But he had stayed, for her…

Juliet’s chest tightened as her debt to him increased. 

They would reach Cody within the next couple hours. Joel was worried about the dark so the plan was to find somewhere to lay low for the night before they began to scope out the town in the morning. Juliet could feel Joel’s anxiety. Somehow, his broad shoulders grew tighter as they closed in on the last place his brother had contacted him from. His regular tapping on the wheel increased at a rapid speed, Juliet didn’t think he was even aware of it.

She was desperate to reach over and enclose her hand over his. 

As Joel shifted gears and increased his speed, Juliet allowed her mind to wander. She allowed herself to think about comforting him the way he had comforted her. How would he react to her touch? Would Joel welcome her attention? Or brush her off? 

There were so many lines they walked: between smuggler and cargo, friend and acquaintance, accomplice and opponent. Juliet was afraid to bridge the gap, the guilt that lived inside her raged with every thought of Joel’s touch. Ethan was in the backseat, Ethan had saved her, he had suffered for years because of her. She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t even visualise Joel returning her feelings. Juliet didn’t even know what those feelings were, but more and more she was struggling to deny that they existed.

…………………………………………………

When they reached Cody, they all sat up a bit straighter. The light was fading fast, but Juliet’s breath caught at the mountains towering over the town. They made her feel small, made everything seem small. The silence was heavy between them and Joel began to tense. Juliet didn’t dare look at his face, she couldn’t bear to see that scrunch of his eyebrows which hinted at danger ahead. They had been through too much, and everything inside her mind was still so blurry. Juliet couldn’t handle another trauma - she could barely remember the last one. 

Ethan leaned forward, resting his forearm on the back of Juliet’s seat and pushing the front of his body into the space between Joel and Juliet. Juliet shifted closer to the door to make room for his presence. 

“See any demons?” he whispered as the truck slowly moved down the city street.

Joel’s eyes cut to Ethan, a question printed on his face.

“He means the infected,” Juliet murmured as she continued staring straight ahead. Their community didn’t know much about the current blight of the world. Her father had always called them ‘demons’ but never went into detail. Juliet remembered the first time she saw an infected person, stumbling around in a carpark with Blake by her side. She remembered the sound of his gunshot in her ears when it fell to the ground.

Joel didn’t respond, he just tensed his hand on the wheel. Juliet could tell he was entirely focused on their surroundings, scanning every shop window, every corner of every darkening street they passed.

“Looks clear to me,” Ethan announced in a hard voice following the heavy silence, tilting his head towards Juliet. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was scanning the roads like Joel, holding her breath with every passing second. It was almost too quiet in Cody, surely they would have seen at least one infected stumbling around somewhere. Juliet began to curl her fingers into fists, ignoring the pain from her tender palms. 

If Tommy wasn’t here, if there was nowhere for them to go… Juliet didn’t know if there was enough room in her soul to house another blow.

Joel slowed the truck to a stop on what looked like a mainstreet. They said nothing for a moment, still waiting, still listening for danger. Sometimes, in the silence, there lay the deadliest of threats.  

“We’ll get out,” Joel began his command, before cutting his eyes to Ethan, “Quietly ” he insisted with raised eyebrows. Juliet watched as Ethan rolled his eyes and sank backwards into the back of the truck. 

“We don’t know what’s out there, but we gotta find somewhere to stay for the night,” Joel continued. Juliet nodded in response, used to this routine. She felt renewed by this small sense of purpose, this small comfort of familiarity. 

For his next instruction, Joel turned in his seat, facing Ethan. “Don’t do anythin’ stupid” he ground out in a low, dark voice, as his eyes narrowed. Juliet attempted to swallow down the tension which lay thick in the air. 

After a long moment, Ethan muttered out an agreement then bent forward and began to rifle through his backpack, before pulling out a handgun and making sure it was loaded. They must have cleared out the armoury before leaving the community, because Juliet and Joel had one too, along with two shotguns in the back. 

Before she could attempt to lean forward, and aggravate the burn on her stomach, her backpack landed on her lap. Joel leaned over the gear stick, his scent of pine and smoke washing over her, as he began to search through her bag, finding her gun and ammo and depositing them into Juliet’s awaiting hands. When he was done, he moved to his own backpack and did the same. 

Tears threatened to fill Juliet’s eyes. The silent gesture from Joel flooded her body with a comforting warmth. Juliet didn’t say thank you, she knew Joel wouldn’t want her to. She just loaded her gun and blinked away her glossy eyes, quietly steeling herself for what the night would bring. 

……………………………

They exited the truck as the sky darkened into a vibrant shade of navy blue. Juliet’s legs were stiff and her body felt unusually heavy, her limbs trembled with the chill in the air. The weather had changed rapidly in the last few days, autumn was now truly upon them and Juliet wished for a warmer wardrobe. Joel had found her a new shirt, to replace the one they had to cut open, but the soft flannel wasn’t enough to shield her body from the cold. 

Her backpack hung from her hand as Juliet braced herself to swing it over her shoulders, she knew the strain that would have on her stomach. So she took a couple deep breaths and listened to the quiet sounds of Ethan rounding the truck towards her, before biting her lip and begining to lift her arms. 

Her backpack had barely moved before a heavy weight landed on her shoulders with a warmth which forced a low groan to instantly release from her lips. She looked down and realised that it was a jacket… Joel’s jacket. The jacket was far too big for her, almost swallowing her down to her knees. Joel stood before her, staring down at her wide eyes and gently took the backpack from her icy hands. 

“Joel, no. I can’t take this,” she protested, trying to shrug the jacket from her shoulders.

Joel raised his free hand, silencing her.

“Take it,” he commanded, leaving no room for a returning argument.

She wanted to fight back on this, demand that Joel take his jacket back. But it was so warm and it smelled so much like him, and Juliet was so cold. So, she nodded slowly and pulled her arms through the sleeves, rolling them up so her hands could move freely. When Joel was satisfied, he lifted her bag and threaded her arms through the straps, until it hung securely from her back. 

Juliet’s cheeks were burning. She hated that she couldn’t do this for herself, that her injury retrained almost every movement she made. And she hated that Joel saw her like this, as weak and defenceless, as something he had to look after, like a child. Her father had done this to her, he had taken away her dignity and all that was left was a shell of who Juliet once was. She wasn’t a survivor anymore, she was barely a person. 

Joel’s eyes scanned her face and Juliet watched as a muscle jumped in his tight jaw. She nodded again, this time to show her gratitude. Joel just looked at her a moment longer and moved away, facing the darkening street in front of them as he sorted his own backpack.

Juliet pulled the jacket tighter around her and turned to find Ethan leaning on the side of the truck, an unreadable expression covered his face. But he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at the jacket now hanging loose on her shivering form. His eyebrows pinched together and he ran his free hand over his mouth, before he tugged the corners of his lips into his signature smile, which didn’t quite reach his eyes, and gestured with a tilt of his head that they should get moving. 

Joel walked with his usual quick stride, his heavy steps somehow quiet on the concrete ground. Juliet held her gun steady in her hand, Ethan, who walked beside her, did the same. When Juliet looked closer at Ethan, she noticed his hands were trembling and his shoulders were tight. A sharp bolt of pity fired through her when she remembered that Ethan had no real experience with the outside world. As they walked down this empty street, the masked terror in Ethan’s eyes reminded her of the girl Blake found in the woods all those years ago. She ached to reach out, to offer some comfort, some reassurance for her friend but she needed to keep her wits about her. With every step they took, Juliet grew more and more uneasy. Surely Tommy wasn’t hiding out here? It was too open, too achingly quiet. 

Juliet knew that Joel wouldn’t want to go far from the truck so she was unsurprised when his steps slowed outside a building with minimal broken windows and somewhat undisturbed brickwork. He turned to Juliet, tossed his shotgun over his shoulder, and nodded their usual signal for her to keep watch. Her eyes instantly focused on the streets, listening intently for anything amiss as Joel began the work of finding an entry into the building. 

Ethan started to pace, holding his gun out in front of him. Even in the near complete darkness, with only the moon to light their surroundings, Juliet could see that Ethan’s eyes had taken on a glaze of wild fear. 

“Ethan,” she hissed, trying desperately to get his attention without making much noise.

Ethan’s eyes quickly cut to her but only for a second before they latched back onto the dark street. She tried again, this time moving closer to him. “What’s wrong?” she whispered urgently.

Ethan had stopped pacing. He stood eerily still as he lifted his gun higher. Panic struck Juliet with a fierce blow when she realised that he was aiming at something. 

Juliet squinted her eyes, searching through the darkness for the source of Ethan’s terror. 

Her breath caught when she spotted it. There. A figure stumbling out from behind a car. 

Juliet would recognise those jerky movements anywhere. 

An infected.

And Ethan had his gun trained on it. But he didn’t know what the infected were like. He didn't know that if saw one then there were probably hundreds somewhere else, just waiting for a sound to alert them of their presence. 

“Ethan, no ” Juliet hissed, reaching her hand towards him. 

But it was too late.

Ethan fired the shot and, of course, even in the dark, it landed on its target. Ethan was the one to teach Juliet how to shoot, after all. The infected fell to the ground without a sound, but the gunshot was deafening.

She froze, her hand still outstretched as Joel rushed up to Ethan and pried the gun from his hands.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” Joel demanded, grabbing hold of Ethan’s shoulder with his free hand. Ethan turned to him, his eyes wide.

“I did it,” he gushed, attempting to shrug off Joel’s crushing grip. “I killed one of them.”

“Yeah and lit up a target on our heads. Every infected in the area is gonna follow that sound directly to us,” Joel fumed, doing his best to keep his voice low, but his rage was screaming out of him. 

Ethan recoiled, the relief gone. Joel let him tug himself free. “Shit,” Ethan cursed, running his hand through his hair. 

“We need to move,” Juliet whispered, searching Joel’s face for instructions. 

Before Joel could answer. Before any of them could move. They heard the sound Juliet dreaded with every fibre of her soul.

Gargling. Screeching. Footsteps, pounding on the concrete.

Without a second thought, Joel grabbed Juleit’s arm and pulled her towards the store. Juliet stumbled to the door, her fear weighing her down. She turned and saw, from the distance, a black mass moving at lightning speed, hitting off of abandoned cars and stumbling over each other. 

Joel was right. Ethan had led a mass of infected right to them. 

Joel pulled against the latch he had just burst open with the handle of his shotgun, pulling the door open and pushing Juliet through. She didn’t have a choice, Joel had moved so quickly she hadn't even had time to protest, to beg for Joel to help Ethan. Within seconds the door was shut and Juliet was alone in the darkness. 

She turned to the window, her heart was beating so fast she could hear her blood rushing in her ears. From the foggy glass she could see Joel and Ethan arguing before Joel grabbed hold of Ethan’s shirt and dragged him towards the door. Juliet stumbled back as they entered, Ethan ran straight into her chest, knocking the air out of her. It took everything in Juliet to not scream in pain.

“Watch it,” Joel growled at Ethan. 

Ethan had stumbled to the wall and dropped his head into his hands. His fingers were shaking.

“Quick, barricade the door,” Juliet urged, trying her best to bend towards a cabinet but Joel got there first, gently nudging her out the way and pushing the cabinet in front of the door. Juliet moved towards the window, and instantly jumped back at the horror outside the shop.

The infected had descended upon the street. Hundreds stumbling about in the dark, their heads turning at unnatural angles attempting to hear the sounds of their victims. Juliet turned around slowly, her finger glued to her lips.

Joel froze at the sight of her face and moved to the window. They both gazed out, Juliet's shoulder pressed against Joel’s bicep. The muscles in his arm were tense right down to his clenched hand against the windowsill. She could still make out the cuts on his knuckles. The evidence of what he had done for her. Juliet couldn’t let this be the end of his story, when he was so close to finding his brother. Joel deserved peace. He deserved a life without broken knuckles and blood on his hands. 

Despite her fuzzy brain and the lightheadedness that had begun to dilute her thoughts. Juliet scrambled to create a plan.

“We keep quiet, keep out of sight tonight. Then, in the morning we can plan a way out of here,” Juliet murmured, glad that Joel stood so close so she didn’t have to speak any louder and risk one of the infected hearing. In the morning light, they would be able to see a way out of this mess. 

Joel nodded and his face tilted down towards her. ‘Upstairs’ he mouthed with a jerk of his chin. 

Juliet agreed they had to get as far away from the door as possible. Tucked further into the building, they might have a chance of surviving the night. 

Ethan still stood pressed against the wall. Juliet gestured to him that they should find their way upstairs and he nodded, finally understanding the gravity of their situation and the need to stay quiet. Juliet would be lying if she said she wasn’t annoyed at this callousness. He should have known better. He should have listened to her, listened to Joel. Juliet wondered if he felt a need to prove himself by killing that infected, to prove that he could survive in this world like she had. Juliet had never known Ethan to be a jealous person, but the years changed people. She knew that more than anyone.

Despite her annoyance, she still brushed her fingers against his hand as she walked past him towards the stairs. Yet, before she could take the first step, Joel tapped her shoulder and raised his hand, asking her to wait. She paused, a question on her lips. Then she watched as Joel reluctantly handed Ethan his gun back. Ethan wrapped his hand around the handle but Joel wouldn’t let go. He held tight even as Ethan pulled against the weapon. Ethan pulled again, harder this time. But Joel held steady.

Just when Juliet was about to step in, Joel grabbed the collar of Ethan’s shirt, pulling him in close. Joel whispered in his ear, words that Juliet was unable to make out. When he was finished, Joel let go and Ethan stumbled back a couple steps, the gun now in his hands. Juliet cringed as Ethan gained his footing, worried he would make a sound by crashing into something. 

Joel turned back to her with the slightest hint of satisfaction in his tense expression. Juliet furrowed her eyebrows but allowed Joel to step around her and begin their slow, silent journey up the stairs with his gun raised in one hand and his torch now gripped in the other, lighting their way.

With each step, Joel paused, testing the stability of the steps. Juliet thought back to their time in the museum in Boston, when the entire staircase crumbled beneath them. It felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, Juliet had known exactly where her life would take her. She had a purpose. She had a reason to keep going. Now… Juliet wasn’t exactly sure why she was still putting one foot in front of the other. 

She tensed her fingers around the handle of her gun, following Joel’s footsteps as they inched their way up the stairs. Ethan was a few steps behind her, she could hear his quiet breaths. 

When Joel reached the stop, Juliet paused, waiting for him to sweep the hallway with his torch. They stayed silent, it still wasn’t safe to make a sound as more infected could be hidden upstairs. After a moment, Joel nodded down at them and Juliet stepped onto the hardwood floor. She had thought this was a store, but she was wrong. It looked more like an office building. If they could find an office at the back and barricade the door, they could stay safe until morning light where they could use the window to plot their way back to the truck. 

Juliet eased a slow breath from her lips, finally feeling the weight on her shoulders ease. Just a few more steps, sweep the upstairs, then they could rest. Juliet struggled to stand for too long, her head still ached with the force of her father’s blow, along with the bruising on her ankles. She was ashamed at how weak her father had made her. 

Joel walked forward, avoiding a couple crumbling floorboards and pointed his torch into the first room. Juliet was about to signal to Joel that they should split up, sweep the rooms individually then meet back in the hallway. But then she thought of Ethan and his trigger happy tendencies and she restrained herself with a grimace. They should stick together. 

Juliet followed Joel into the first room, surprised by the lavish furnishing. It was large, far larger than her father’s office had been. Against the far wall, sat a desk with a leather chair, and as Joel swung around the torch she realised there were two other rooms housed within this deceptively massive space. 

Realising Ethan wasn’t behind her, she turned, searching for him in the darkness. Not daring to say his name and disturb the quiet, Juliet walked back towards the door, her steps quickening with her increasing panic. Where was he? What was wrong? Was he hurt? 

Every worried thought vanished from Juliet’s head as she crashed to the floor.

With Joel’s torch pointed in the other direction, Juliet hadn’t seen the box on the ground. She hit the hard floor with a piercing cry, landing on her stomach. Juliet had to breathe through the intense pulse of nausea which attacked her. 

“Ethan!” she cried, still searching for him, even from her position on the floor. 

“Juliet!” Joel bellowed from the far corner of the room, as he ran over towards her.

As Juliet lifted her head, everything went into slow motion.

She could hear Joel’s footsteps thundering towards her, his torchlight bouncing off of the walls. And as the light hit the entryway, she noticed a black crack staining what was left of the white paint above the door. That wasn’t odd, every building was covered in cracks. 

This one, however, was growing, rapidly.

“Ethan!” she screamed, not caring anymore who could hear her. 

“I'm coming!” he yelled back, it sounded as though he was in a different room. 

“No, no, no, no,” Juliet began to murmur, louder and louder, because the crack wasn’t just a crack anymore, it was a gaping hole in the wall. And as Juliet muttered out her final ‘ no’ the ceiling over the entryway came crashing down in a cloud of plaster and brick.

…………………………………

When the ceiling had finished collapsing, leaving only the wooden beams of the attic to protect them from the sky, Joel’s hands finally found her. He gripped Juliet by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet, his breaths heavy in her ear. 

“You alright?” he demanded, brushing the white dust off of her face. His eyes were wild as they scanned her from head to toe.

Juliet gripped his arm tight and leaned forward, vomiting at their feet.

It really was like their time in the museum , she thought, grimly.  

“Shhh,” Joel murmured, pulling back her knotted strands of dark hair as she continued to spit bile onto the floor. 

Juliet couldn’t even feel the embarrassment of the situation. All she could focus on was the pain in her body and the warm touch of Joel’s fingers in her hair. 

But as her mind returned to her, fierce panic struck her cold.

“Ethan,” she coughed. “He was in the hallway, Joel. Oh god, what if he’s…” she stuttered, her words spilling out of her. The rubble had sealed them in, she couldn’t see into the hallway at all. 

“Etha -” she started to scream, moving to push past Joel. But he was quicker. Joel pulled Juliet to him so her backpack was pressed tight against his chest and he curled his large hand over her mouth. Juliet wriggled against him, trying to free herself from his intense grip. 

Then she heard the sound that haunted so many of her nightmares.

Click. 

Click. 

Click.  

Juliet choked on her breath, thankful for Joel’s hand over her mouth to quiet the sound. 

Click. 

Click. 

Click. 

They heard it again. This time, she could make out which direction it was coming from. The door to their left was left open and she could see a shadow starting to make its way towards the main room. Joel’s torch lay somewhere on the floor behind them, casting dramatic shadows over the room. 

Juliet reached her hand out to grip Joel’s. He squeezed back, curling his fingers over her own, squeezing, as he released his other hand from her mouth. Juliet felt Joel slide his hand around to his back pocket and pull out his handgun. Another flood of panic struck her. Her gun flew from her hand when she tripped. It was somewhere on the floor, but without proper lighting, she couldn’t see where. 

She needed that gun if she was going to get out of here. Without thinking, Juliet released Joel’s hand and took a step forward… onto a loose floorboard.

First, the wood screeched and groaned and Juliet froze, her entire body pausing mid-step. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited, cursing herself for her own stupidity.

Then came a different screech. A gargling, wet, scream erupted from the other room and the clicker came barreling into the main office space. 

Juliet felt Joel grab her by the backpack and swing her around until she stood behind him. He raised his gun, aiming for the clicker’s head, but the shadows were making it difficult and it was getting too close. 

Joel slammed into the clicker, still firing shots. Juliet watched in horror, she had no weapons, nothing to help kill the monster in his arms. Her eyes were wide and frantic as she scanned the floor for her gun. 

Click. 

Click. 

Click. 

Juliet’s head turned with a dizzying speed. There it was. Another clicker. It must have been in the back room. And now, it was headed straight for her. 

Juliet darted to the side, evading its first attack. But as she moved, she quickly realised that she was backing herself into a wall. A scream crawled its way up her throat and she tried to dart her eyes towards Joel, but there was no time. 

The clicker was rapidly approaching, Juliet could smell the decay simmering on its body. If she wasn’t so terrified she would have gagged again. Having no weapons, Juliet did the next best thing: she grabbed the large leather chair and swung it in front of her as the clicker finally caught up to her.

It slammed into the leather and what remained of its teeth snapped at her from behind the chair as its almost claw-like fingers missed her face by an inch. Her terror overpowered her, she didn’t realise it at first, but she was screaming. A fierce, blood curdling scream. 

Across the room she heard another shot and the sound of a body hitting the ground. Through a gap in the chair, her eyes caught sight of a clicker on the ground. Dead. 

“Jul -” Joel started to shout before he was cut off. 

There was another clicker, behind Joel this time. Like Juliet, he was backed into a wall. 

Tears started to flood down Juliet’s face as the clicker continued its snarling attack while Juliet crouched in terror. Juliet was beginning to realise that this wasn’t quite like the museum, afterall. Back then, Juliet had a weapon. Back then, Juliet had Joel. Back then, Juliet had a reason to fight.

But what was left for her now? Why was she still fighting against these monsters? She had nothing to protect herself with - what was the point?

Her father was dead. She had saved Ethan, and now he might be dead too. She had no family, nowhere to go. No real reason to go on. 

Maybe there was nowhere safe left in the world. Maybe, in every room, in every building, in every city, there was a monster in the closet. Juliet didn’t know if she had the energy to fight them anymore.

She was supposed to die in that basement. She had accepted it. 

Maybe now, it was time. 

With another sob, Juliet eased her grip on the chair. Her decision washed over her, calming her terror. She’d had enough. She was done. 

Still sheltered by the chair, Juliet used her last moment to find Joel. Tears blurred her vision, but she could make out his blurry figure kicking and slashing at the clicker. He was yelling something. Juliet thought it might be her name. But she wasn’t sure. 

Without realising, Juliet had regained her grip on the chair, pushing it back against the clicker, stifling its attack. Her body shook with its movements. She continued staring at Joel as her panic returned. As she watched him struggle against the monster, Juliet struggled to catch her breath. 

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t watch Joel die. This wasn’t fair. He had to find his brother. He had to live. He still had a reason to go on. 

He wasn’t supposed to die. 

Juliet couldn’t look away from his quick, sharp movements. He drove his knife into the clicker over and over, with such strength and such fury as he screamed her name. 

“Joel!” she yelled back, her voice croaky as his name spilled out of her without warning.

He had a knife.

Wait.

So did she. 

Juliet braced herself, pushing with all her strength in her left arm as she freed her right and slid it down into her boot. When she brought it back up to push against the leather chair, between her fingers was her rose carved switchblade. 

Her father’s guards hadn’t taken it.

It had been in her boot this whole time. 

Juliet screamed with every bit of fury still left in her weary soul and pushed against the chair, knocking the clicker backwards. With the adrenaline pumping through her veins, her pain was no longer a concern, and Juliet leapt to her feet, scrambling over the chair. With one push from her finger, the blade sprung free. The clicker grabbed her shoulder, pulling her towards it, its teeth ready to slash into her neck. 

But Juliet was faster. She used the clicker’s momentum to twist her body to the side and drive her knife into its neck. Black, slimy blood splattered across her face but the clicker kept coming at her. Juliet pulled the knife out with a force which almost knocked her backwards. She stumbled but straightened enough to drive the knife towards the clicker’s head, all while dodging its vicious attacks.

She pierced its open skull with her blade.

The clicker slowed but its attack continued. 

Juliet pulled back and stabbed into the skull again, as the clicker’s fingers sliced against Joel’s jacket. 

This time, the clicker dropped to the ground, releasing its grip on her. 

For good measure, Juliet bent down and brought her knife down another few times. Not caring as more blood splattered her face. 

“Juliet!” Joel grunted out from across the room. 

She twisted, launching to her feet, almost tripping over the first fallen clicker as she ran to Joel. 

Near him on the floor, she could see her gun lying where she had dropped it. 

She picked it up, moved towards the clicker and fired a shot.��

The clicker was propelled backwards with the bullet in its neck and the force from Joel’s kick. But it wasn’t enough, she needed a shot in the head. Juliet put all of her fear, anger and desperation into her next shot. 

The clicker stilled on the floor, inky black blood oozing from its many wounds. 

The clicker was dead but Juliet’s body was like a live wire. Her fingers shook so hard she thought she might drop her gun. 

Her eyes moved from the monster on the floor to the man against the wall. Joel stood with his hands on his knees, breathing heavy. 

“Are you okay?” Juliet gasped out as she staggered over to him, tucking her gun into her pocket. 

Before she could reach him, Joel closed the gap between them in two strides, grabbing hold of her shoulders. His face was coated in sweat and his eyes were blazing, they were entirely black. Juliet should have been terrified of him. He was the picture of danger and rage. But all she felt was relief. He was alive. He was safe. He was okay. 

Joel’s hands moved from her shoulders to her face. His fingers roamed over her forehead, down to her chin, behind her neck, across her collarbone, under his jacket, under her flannel. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Joel growled as his fingers continued their exploration. Juliet thought he was looking for bites but this felt different. It felt like he was assessing every inch of her, desperately feeling for himself if she was alive, if she was actually standing in front of him. 

Juliet did the same, she reached up to his face and cupped her hand over his jaw as her eyes met his. “Do what?” she whispered back. Her body shivered with Joel’s touch. He was unrelenting, his hands roamed everywhere. After a long look into her questioning eyes, his head dropped to her neck and his lips started to roam the delicate skin behind her ear. Juliet couldn’t help the moan that slipped out.

“Make me think you were dead,” Joel replied with a murmur against her neck. Juliet felt his words under her skin, his rough, low, voice sank deeper, and deeper into her body. 

“Can’t lose you,” he continued as his hands squeezed her waist. It was like he was in a trance, Juliet could feel his heartbeat pounding against her chest. She felt frenzied, she couldn’t get enough of him. Was this how being alive was supposed to feel?

Joel pulled back until their eyes met again. His black stare melted into her own as his hand left her waist and his thumb brushed over her lips. 

“So beautiful,” he said with a low growl which, combined with his southern drawl, made his words almost unintelligible. 

But Juliet heard him, and she could read the words written in his deep stare. His thumb brushed back and forth over her lips and warmth flooded Juliet’s entire body.

With a low groan rumbling from his chest, Joel closed the gap between them. 

His mouth crashed onto Juliet’s and Joel wasted no time parting her lips. Their kiss wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t nice, it wasn’t gentle. It was hot, messy, and wrong, so wrong. Joel’s fingers gripped the back of her neck, pushing her closer, holding her in place as his mouth claimed her’s. Juliet palmed his chest, reaching under his shirt, gripping his belt, pulling him closer. She needed him with a primal intensity. Colours flashed across her vision as their teeth crashed into each other. 

Joel’s chest rumbled with low growls as Juliet attempted to say his name with every quick breath. Her mind echoed over and over: Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. It was like a chant, a prayer. But she needed more. The hand tucked under his shirt spread around to his back and Juliet scratched her torn nails down his skin. Joel’s tongue invaded her mouth in response as his other hand tugged her hair into his tight grip. 

Still, she needed more.

Juliet pushed against Joel until he was pressed against the wall behind them. She couldn’t get enough, her entire body was on fire. Her hands were everywhere, they rounded the front of his shirt this time and then started to descend lower, and lower until her fingers tugged on his belt. She felt his hips thrust as his teeth nipped at her lips and his hand tugged tighter on her hair. Her fingers shook as she struggled against his belt buckle -

“Juliet? Joel?!” a voice called from a distance. 

Juliet launched herself from Joel, stumbling backwards as flung herself from his orbit. Joel stood plastered against the wall, his hair a mess and his shirt open, revealing the trail of hair leading into his dark jeans. The place her hand just pressed against. 

“Juliet! Can you hear me?” 

Ethan. 

“Oh god,” Juliet gasped out as she lifted her fingers to her mouth, feeling her swollen lips. What had she done? How could she have forgotten Ethan? 

Joel stared down at her, making no move to fix himself. He was waiting to see what she would do, how she would react. 

Juliet spun around, finally remembering the devastation around her. There were three dead clickers on the floor and they were sealed in with the debris from the ceiling. Ethan was in the hallway, calling her name. And what was Juliet doing? Kissing Joel. She could barely verbalise those words inside her own head. 

It felt so good. Juliet didn’t know she could feel like that. She didn’t know those feelings even existed. 

“Juliet” Ethan called again, his voice was desperate, terrified for her. 

Her guilt strangled her.

“Ethan!” she yelled, stumbling over to the debris. “I’m here, I’m here.” 

Juliet started to pull against the plaster and bricks which blocked their exit and Ethan did the same from the other side. She didn’t dare turn around, she couldn’t bear to see the look on Joel’s face. What could she say to him? She didn’t even understand what just happened. So, Juliet kept pulling against the debris, clearing the way. The adrenaline still numbed the pain but when Joel appeared behind her and started to help, Juliet breathed a sigh of relief. 

After a few minutes, they had cleared enough for Ethan to find his way into the room. He scanned the three clickers on the ground and swallowed rough, before meeting Juliet’s eyes. 

“That makes four then,” he said. 

“You killed one?” Juliet gasped out. That must have been why he disappeared. Had Ethan been battling a clicker this entire time? “Ethan, god. Are you okay?” she asked, moving closer to him. His clothes didn’t look torn and the only mark on him was the black, inky blood of the clickers. Juliet let out a heavy sigh of relief when he nodded. 

Then, without warning, he moved forward and pulled Juliet against him. His hand brushed over her hair with such gentleness. Nothing like Joel’s vicious grip. Juliet’s face reddened at the thought. 

She opened her eyes as Ethan rubbed her back in soothing circles. He was trying to comfort her, she assumed. But Juliet wasn’t looking for comfort, she didn’t want soft touches and gentle words. Juliet scanned the room for Joel and found him standing against the entryway, his hand flexing over the handle of his gun. His jaw shifted when he met her eyes. They were still black, still staring at her with a fire blazing in them and when he looked at Ethan’s hands, cradled around her, his stare turned lethal. 

Juliet bit her lip, and watched as Joel’s eyes followed her movement. His hand gripped his gun tighter. 

Ethan pulled away, but continued to rest his hands on her arms. “You’re going to be okay,” he promised her. But Juliet wasn’t listening, her gaze was still focused on the man behind him. The man who would never offer such words of reassurance in this unstable world. Juliet felt remorseful at the thought and made an effort to meet Ethan’s eyes with a small, accepting smile. She didn’t mean to compare them. Ethan was being kind, trying to calm her. 

But he didn’t know that Joel’s touch frightened her more than the clickers ever could. He didn’t know that she could still taste him in her mouth. He didn’t know that Juliet liked that fear. 

He didn’t know that it was the only thing that made her feel alive. 

When Juliet searched for those dark eyes again, they were gone. Joel had turned away, shielding her from the thoughts etched on his face. 

Yet as she looked down, she watched his hand flex at his side, almost as though he was shaking off the feeling of her touch.

_________________________

@amyispxnk @shotgun-shelby @http-paprika

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 18

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 5.6k

Chapter 18: 'Funny'

Juliet’s POV:

Her father’s hand on her back was surprisingly gentle, cautious even. His fingers didn’t dig into her flesh, didn’t cling to the curve of her bones, didn’t leave imprints. Elijah walked Juliet up the porch steps and into the towering, battered, house which had made an appearance in every nightmare she awoke from for the past several years. Scott led the way, gripping her confiscated backpack in the same hand he used to turn the handle on the front door, his other hand reached into his red hair, scratching his skull. Juliet remembered the nervous tics of the men her father liked to keep in his employ, she remembered their stares, she remembered everything. 

Her father’s hand was delicate, soft… until it wasn't. Until it pushed against her in one staggering movement. Juliet could practically feel her father’s strength rippling down his arm before it met her back, propelling her forward into the dark green armchair. Juliet landed with a thump, her head smacking off the hardwood hidden behind the velvet material. She groaned, twisting her body to sit upright, to place her world back on its axis. 

Elijah stared down at her, his piercing pale blue eyes were so intense they looked almost white as they watched her struggle to sit upright. Juliet didn’t reach a hand up to touch the bump now forming on her forehead, neither did she allow any glimmer of tears to approach her wide stare. Juliet just straightened her back, tilted her chin up, and met her father’s icy look with a dark glare of her own. 

A satisfied smirk crossed her father’s mouth, his lips tilting into a wicked curve. Then he stepped backwards into the matching armchair opposite her. His landing was much softer, less painful. 

They sat in the living room, surrounded by ornate furniture and trinkets which covered nearly every surface of the room. Bookshelves were filled with religious texts, their spines bent and cracked with age and repeated use. Juliet’s eyes scanned the stiflingly familiar room as Elijah’s eyes roamed across her face, investigating every change in her features with raised eyebrows. Juliet’s gaze moved in the direction of the hall and she had to stop herself from flinching, she was excruciatingly aware that every microscopic movement she made would be caught by her father's analytical stare. Juliet peered through the open door which led into the darkening hall, and all she could see was her past self standing before her father as the air slowly left her weakening lungs. 

Juliet looked away, into Elijah’s awaiting gaze. Her nails began to dig into her palms, the fresh pain mingled with the crescent shaped scars which had already left their mark. 

Her father’s smirk deepened, then his eyes shifted to the space behind her. “Scott and Daniel, we will require some tea,” he said to the men Juliet hadn’t noticed stood behind her, lingering around her chair like metal statues. Her father’s voice was quiet and pleasant as he made his request, but Juliet knew that the men were entirely under his authority, under his control. They would follow his every order, without question or argument. Both men nodded and left the room, the sound of their footsteps following them to the kitchen. 

“Now,” her father began, pausing as he sat further back in his chair, sinking into the plush cushions before resting his arms on its sides. When he was comfortable, he continued.

“I see you got my letter,” Elijah mused. 

It wasn’t a question, but he still awaited an answer. Juliet swallowed. “Yes,” she croaked out. Her voice was rough, her reply caught in the backlog all the words she had wanted to say outside to Joel, but was forced to choke down instead. 

Her father nodded, amusement now glimmering in his cold stare. He liked when Juliet was nervous, when he was the obvious one in control. 

“It took quite a while to find you. Hiding all the way in Boston,” he observed, stopping to make a repeated tsk, tsk, tsk sound with his tongue. Juliet dug her nails in deeper, then checked her features to ensure her expression was still entirely vacant, giving her father no weaknesses to cling to. “How did you make it so far?” her father finally asked, leaning forward in his chair. 

When Elijah shifted forward, Juliet leaned back. “I found a group, travelled with them,” she replied, keeping her answer as vague as possible. Juliet’s eyes never left her father’s face, she was desperate to see his reaction. Her words were treason, she had just admitted to her knowledge that there were more survivors in the world, that her father had been lying to her and their entire community. Of course her father knew of her new understanding, he had found her in a QZ after all, and she had arrived here with a stranger to the town. But to actually say the words, words that, only a few years ago, would have been blasphemy to her… Juliet was desperate to see how her father would spin this, how he would deny her claims. 

To her surprise, her father’s expression did not change, there were no signs of shock or anger. Elijah just raised his eyebrows and nodded. “I suspected as much. You lived sheltered and cared for your whole life, I assumed you had found someone to latch onto. You always were a dependent, vulnerable little girl.”

White hot rage sparked through Juliet’s body. She felt her muscles begin to harden, her entire body turning to stone as burning anger flowed through her. Juliet knew her father’s games, she understood completely that he was challenging her, playing with her.

What he didn’t know, however, was that, while his game had stayed the same all these years, his opponent had changed. 

Juliet swallowed her anger, careful to not let it show on her face. She kept her reactions minimised to the clench of her fists, to the blood that bloomed under her fingernails. 

“So you knew?” she asked, a crease forming between her eyebrows. No hint of her blazing rage appeared in her features, only a mild curiosity. “You knew that we weren’t the only survivors? That there were other people alive?” she continued, her voice calm and inquisitive. 

Her father was quiet for a moment, surveying her face like a chessboard. Then he barked out a laugh and leaned back, folding his hands across his chest. “Look at you, demanding answers from me,” he accused, all the humour dying in his eyes. His permanent smirk was gone, his mouth had hardened into a thin line as he stared at Juliet. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

At that moment, Scott walked back in the room with Daniel behind him, one holding a tray of teas and the other holding a jug of milk. Elijah clapped his hands in delight, sitting up straighter in his chair as the men placed the mugs on the table between them. Once all of the items were laid out, the men resumed their position behind Juliet. She squirmed in her seat. 

Elijah made them both a cup of tea, sliding Juliet’s towards her. She leaned forward to pick it up, almost flinching when the hot mug met her bloodied palms. As always, Juliet got used to the pain, it grounded her, reminded her of why she was there, and what she needed to do. 

She took a slow sip, mirroring her father’s movements, then brought the mug down to rest on her dark jeans. Juliet glanced up, ensuring she had her father’s entire focus. “Where is Ethan?” she demanded, her voice strong and steady. The heat of the tea sliding down her throat stoked the blazing rage in her gut.

Elijah displayed no sense of anger or surprise at her tone, he just continued to leisurely sip at his tea. This was another one of his famous moves, Juliet was amazed at how quick they returned to her mind. Probably because her memories of her father had never really faded, they had always been there, present and ready to remind her of the horrors she left behind. 

Eventually, her father brought his mug down to rest on his lap. “I was wondering when you would ask,” he pondered, his voice almost monotone as though they were discussing something as boring as the weather. “He’s alive, of course,” her father revealed.

Juliet couldn’t help the strangled gasp that released from her mouth, relief flooded her body like a bucket of cold water over a raging fire. This whole time, every step of her journey here, Juliet feared the worst. But if Ethan was alive, it meant he could be saved. And Juliet was so close. 

“Although,” her father’s voice interrupted her racing thoughts. “I’m surprised you still care for him, it looked as though you had found someone new. What was his name again? Joel?” 

Despite herself, Juliet shifted in her seat. She feared the direction this conversation was taking. Her final night in this home was marred by her father’s allconsuming rage over her relationship with Ethan, and now he assumed she had a relationship with another man. Her father kept his cards close to his chest but Juliet knew that he was flaming inside with fury. Juliet just hoped she could ensure Ethan’s safety, and that Joel had left the community, before he erupted. 

Juliet gritted her teeth. “I’m not here to talk about Joel, I want to know where Ethan is,” she insisted, nearly breathless with the strength it took to say those words. 

Her demand was met with silence, but Juliet could feel the men behind her shifting on their feet. She looked down at the mug resting on her thighs and began to run her finger around the rim, attempting to distract herself from her father’s weighted silence.

Before she could look back up, a sudden crash filled the room. Juliet flinched as her head flew upwards to search for the source of the sound. Her father was standing in front of his chair, and below him, on the table was his mug, now smashed to pieces as tea rapidly spilled over the dark wood. 

A numbness swept over Juliet, tightening her muscles and slowing her mind. At the sound of the crash, at the evidence of her father’s rage, Juliet’s body had reverted back to its usual response from all those years ago. Time began to slow, as it always had, and Juliet sunk deeper into the green velvet armchair, wishing she could fold herself between the cushions and disappear. Her father stalked over to her, his steps slow and deliberate before he stopped right in front of her chair, towering over her. 

Juliet watched him with intense precision as he stared down at her, his chest moving with his heavy breaths. She desperately calculated what his next move might be. Her father might have left his seat, but the game continued. 

Without warning, Juliet felt her father’s hands grip the front of her shirt and pull her to her feet. The mug on her lap fell to the floor, smashing into tiny pieces as the tea splashed on the ends of her jeans. Once she had stumbled to her feet, her father did not let go, he continued to hold tight against her shirt, tilting it upwards, using the pressure to restrict her breathing. This was one another of his favourite moves. He stood before her, his face just inches from away, a snarl covered his mouth as his eyes widened in pure satisfaction. 

As the pressure on her throat increased, Juliet felt an intense blast of fear. But it was different this time. Juliet had changed a lot in the past few years, she was no longer the naïve, cowardly girl who was entirely unable to fight back. Juliet could fight, she was a survivor, she could do a number of things to her father right now to get him to let go. But she wouldn’t. Because it wasn’t just her life that hung in the balance, it was Ethan’s too. Her father hadn’t agreed to release him yet, Juliet had no idea where he was or what had happened to him. So she had to pretend, she had to face her father’s punishments and hopefully, in a fit of rage, her father would reveal something about Ethan’s whereabouts. 

When the familiar black spots began to enter her vision, her father finally let go. Juliet dropped back into the armchair, clutching her throat and coughing brutally. Her father continued to tower over her, seething with rage. 

“Do you have any idea what you did when you ran away? Do you?” he shouted into her face as he leaned closer. Juliet flinched as the words met her ears. “I am the leader of this town and my own daughter left in the dead of night. How do you think that made me look? Huh?” her father spat.

“How was I supposed to explain that? To the good people of this town, how was I supposed to explain that my daughter took everything we gave her for granted and abandoned us? Abandoned me?” he seethed, his eyes wild.

Juliet tried not to let her eagerness seep into her expression as she watched her father rage. This was what she wanted, she wanted to rile him up, to force some sort of confession out of him, to trick him into revealing Ethan’s location. She looked up at him, allowing a sliver of her anger to coat her words as she slowly whispered. “Maybe you could have told them the truth. Maybe you could have stopped lying to them, stopped controlling everything they do and actually told them why your daughter had to risk her life escaping from this hellhole.” Her voice was quiet but cold as she watched the fury ripple in her father’s pale eyes. 

Juliet wasn’t surprised when her head flew to the side with the force of her father’s slap. “You selfish, ungrateful bitch,” her father growled. “You think because you lived outside the fence, because you whored yourself out to any man who would help you, that you know anything at all?” he started to laugh, a dry humourless laugh which didn’t come close to meeting his eyes. 

“Ethan’s screams lasted for months before we broke him, before he told us all about your little love story,” he seethed. Juliet began to tremble at the thought of Ethan suffering her father’s punishment. 

“His confession saved him, he’s on the right path now. Praying all day, every day, for his sins,” Elijah explained, a sick sense of pride seeping into his cold tone. 

“He understands now that it was you , my sweet Juliet, who led him astray. That it was you who was touched by the devil, not him,” her father’s smile returned as he continued to speak. “You see, I misjudged Ethan. And now that you have returned to us, he will watch you complete the same journey.” Elijah stepped back, finally giving Juliet some space to breathe.

Her mind was swirling with never ending questions. Her plan was unravelling, Ethan was alive but at what cost? Her father had brainwashed him, convinced him that she had damned him, and led him away from the path of God. Juliet felt sick, she couldn’t even gloat in the knowledge that she had forced her father to reveal his plan, because it was just so horrific. Juliet just wanted to know that Ethan was alive, where he was, and when he was going to be released. She hadn’t realised how far her father’s rage had spread, although she shouldn’t be surprised. 

“In fact, Ethan should join us for this first stage,” Elijah spoke, shaking Juliet from her mind’s entanglement of confusion and dread. “Go fetch him, will you?” he asked Scott, who nodded and immediately left the room. Juliet heard the front door slam shut seconds later.

Juliet felt hollow. It was like she was back at that fence, all those years ago, as she watched the gate close behind her, sealing Ethan in. Juliet felt that loss all over again. Ethan was gone, she was too late, she couldn’t save him. He might be alive, but if what her father said was true, he wasn’t Ethan anymore. 

Juliet choked on a sob. She had come all this way to save a man who could no longer be saved. She had dragged Joel into this mess, bribed him to come all this way, for nothing. 

A new stab of fear pulsed through her. Joel. Would her father just let him go free once the morning came? Or would her father’s possessiveness strike him down too. Juliet never thought it would get to this point, she imagined her father would be so grateful towards Joel, so thankful that he returned her to him. She was so stupid, it was so reckless to involve another person in her horror. Juliet prayed her father would forget about Joel, forget that Juliet hadn’t actually denied her feelings towards him, prayed that he would go free in the morning with his gifted supplies and never return. 

Saying goodbye to him earlier was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. When she had squeezed his rough fingers, Juliet nearly whispered that she wanted to stay with him. Nearly said those words, used that out that he had offered her, and continued to travel the country side by side. And when her eyes flashed to his lips, Juliet thought back to the night she leaned over his injured body, when the heat in Joel’s eyes matched her own. The memory of his hot lips crashing over hers entered her mind with a staggering intensity, and with it, came the sickening guilt that stayed with her long after that night. It was wrong to kiss him, and allow him to kiss her back. 

There was an attraction between them, a spark of desire which built in every lingering stare or accidental touch. Juliet watched that spark blaze in Joel’s eyes just the night before, when he had pinned her to the tree. She had watched his gaze drop to her lips and dart away so quickly she almost thought she had imagined it. 

But Juliet hadn’t imagined that look in his eyes, she hadn’t imagined the way his pupils dilated until his stare was as black as the night around them, and she hadn’t imagined the way his hard body pressed against hers.

There was an attraction between them, yes. Juliet struggled to deny this. But it meant nothing, they weren’t even friends. Joel and Juliet were acquaintances with a mutual goal. Juliet didn’t see him any other way, and she knew that Joel didn’t care for her beyond the supplies she promised him. Joel would never look at her with anything other than a fleeting attraction. She was too young, too reckless, too broken. Joel and Juliet were always meant to part ways. Any lingering feelings were just the result of being trapped together for so long. 

All this flashed through Juliet’s head as she squeezed Joel's fingers and darted away towards her father. And all those conflicted emotions must have been painted on her face when she met her father’s eyes. In that moment, he must have known how she felt about Joel. 

Fuck.  

Juliet blinked away the past and looked up at her father, who still stood before her, now with his hand outstretched. “Come,” he whispered, “it is time to begin your journey to salvation.”

Juliet had felt helpless before, many times, in fact. But not like this. Those tears she had pushed back with all her might began to fill her dark eyes. Elijah smiled in response. There was victory in his stare. He had won his little game. And Juliet, despite her years of training, years building a defence, had lost. 

Her bleeding palm met her father’s smooth hand and Juliet allowed her body to be pulled up until she stood on her shaking legs. 

Elijah’s triumphant smile did not leave his face as he led his daughter towards the basement. 

Joel’s POV:

“I’m Ethan,” he croaked out, then squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long breath, before opening his eyes back into Joel’s dark gaze. “Juliet’s boyfriend.” 

Joel’s entire body tensed, he almost dropped the knife in his hand. But Ethan wasn’t finished, he inhaled another breath, licked his lips, then swallowed again. 

“And you’ve signed her death sentence bringing her back here,” he spat, venom dripping from his words. 

Joel recoiled, the force of Ethan’s words almost knocked him backwards, then he moved. In one smooth motion, Joel knocked the bartender to the side with his elbow and wrapped his hand around Ethan’s throat. The bartender began to shout at him but Joel couldn’t hear it, wouldn’t hear it. All Joel wanted to listen to was the sputtering breath of the fucking liar wriggling against his hand. 

Joel leaned closer, until his face was inches away from Ethan’s wild eyes, then he moved to his ear and murmured, in a voice like gravel. “I’m gonna let you go, and you’re not gonna say her name again until I say so. We clear?” 

Despite the strong hand crushing his windpipe, Ethan managed a shaky nod and Joel instantly released him, stepping back a few steps. The bartender was livid, shooting Joel a dark look before he ran to Ethan, and helped him put an arm over his shoulder before they both staggered to the metal chair in the corner of the room. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling made the room look fit for an interrogation, like on one of those detective shows Joel used to watch, in another life. 

Joel watched the interaction between Ethan and the bartender with an inquisitive stare. They clearly knew each other and Ethan was obviously injured beyond the fresh bruising on his throat, courtesy of Joel. As he observed their interactions, Ethan’s words echoed around Joel’s head, reminding him that he needed answers and he needed them now. 

“Get off him, I’ll take it from here,” Joel said to the bartender, gesturing for him to leave using the knife still gripped tight in his hand. 

“What are you going to do with him?” the bartender asked as he stood, his eyes flicking between Joel’s menacing stare and Ethan’s pleading eyes. Ethan’s coughing filled the narrow room, he placed a hand on the stone wall beside him to steady himself. 

“Just talk,” Joel answered with a tilt of his head. 

The bartender didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here, but if Juliet’s back,” he paused, swallowing rough after mentioning Juliet’s name, “then Ethan’s right, she’s in trouble. Hear him out,” the bartender urged, then turned to face the door. “I’ll keep the eyes and ears away from you both, but talk quick.” With one last look at Ethan’s weary form, the bartender left the room. 

Wasting no time, Joel stalked closer to Ethan. His coughing had stopped, but his heavy breathing remained. Now that Joel took a proper look at him, he noticed the fresh blood spread across his knuckles. 

“I’m gonna give you two minutes to explain who the hell you are and what the hell you know about Juliet, or that bruise on your throat will be the least of your worries,” Joel ground out, actively restraining himself from gripping hold of Ethan and shaking the answers out of him. The mention of Juliet’s name had confirmed his worst fears, and as always, when Juliet was in danger, Joel was quick to turn to anger and violence. 

Ethan looked up at him and rolled his eyes. Joel put his hand, which gripped his knife, on the wall above Ethan’s head, reminding him who he was talking to. 

“I already told you, I’m Juliet’s b -” Ethan started, before Joel’s sharp words cut him off. “Why is she in danger? What do you know?” Joel demanded, he couldn’t bear to hear the word ‘boyfriend’ come out of Ethan’s mouth again. Joel refused to think about why. 

“Her dad,” Ethan started, and Joel’s stomach dropped. “Her dad, Elijah, is the leader of his town. And he’s a real psychopath. I’ve known Juliet since we were both kids and he was always strange, especially around Juliet, but it wasn’t till we got older that I noticed the bruises,” Ethan explained, pausing to catch his breath.

Joel’s throat was burning with the need to shout and rage, but he contained himself, and waited for Ethan to continue. “Juliet would have these thick bruises all over her arms and her legs, in places you could cover with trousers or long t-shirts. When I realised it was her dad, I tried to convince her to leave with me. But she wouldn’t go, see, Elijah told us all that we were the only survivors. He’d have a patrol route for his inner circle but he would always say it was just to find new hunting ground,” Ethan scoffed, his eyes were glassy, as though his mind was trapped in the past he spoke of. Joel listened intently, his rage practically simmering on his skin. 

“One night, probably four years ago now, Elijah found out about us,” Ethan paused, as Joel moved closer, towering over him now. Then Ethan wiped his nose with a trembling hand and continued his brutal tale. “And he nearly killed her. That night, I had enough and made the decision for Juliet. I helped her escape her house and we made it to the fence, but her dad found us and I distracted him to let Juliet get through the fence -”

“You sent her out there on her own?” Joel interrupted, his words viciously accusatory. 

“It was either that or let her dad kill her. What would you have done?” Ethan shot back. 

Joel pushed himself off the wall, turning his back to Ethan and running a hand over his forehead. It was unbearable, the pressure on his chest. Joel had brought her back here, he walked her through that gate and all the way to her father’s house, to her abuser’s house. Fuck. Joel kicked the stone wall, a chunk of crumbling paint fell to the ground with the force of his boot. 

Joel turned back to Ethan. “What happened after she left?” he demanded, but didn’t give Ethan a chance to answer before he fired another question his way. “She told me her dad was sick, why would she say that? Why would she want to come back here?” 

“She’s back because of me,” Ethan answered, his voice quiet as his eyes began to study his bloody knuckles. Joel, in a rare display of patience, waited for him to continue. 

“After I got Juliet out, Elijah decided I was no longer fit for society. He decided that I had forsaken the word of God and had to be punished, or ‘saved’ as he called it,” Ethan said, with a humourless laugh. “Locked me in a fucking barn, like an animal. Only letting me out long enough for the rest of the town to see I was still alive. He told my parents that I was on a ‘journey with God’ and they actually believed him. He’s got this whole town wrapped around his finger,” he scoffed. 

“Nearly four years of torture, and tonight, when Scott turned up at my door and told me Juliet was home, I knew exactly what Elijah had done,” Ethan’s hands began to tremble. “You know, Elijah is a sick man, but he’s also incredibly smart. I don’t know how he did it but I’d bet my life that he lured her back here by threatening to kill me, he’d know that’s the only way Juliet would return to this hellhole.”

Joel was clenching his fist so tight he thought the bones in his fingers might fracture. Everything was starting to make sense. Juliet’s dad was never sick and she always knew what she was returning to. That was why she had that haunted look in her eyes every time he even broached the subject of her dad. Shit, how could he be so blind? Joel wanted to kick the wall again, but he was frozen in place, it was like his body was shutting down. The whole journey with Juliet was a lie, and she didn’t say anything to him. 

Why would she? In Juliet’s eyes, all Joel wanted from her was the supplies she promised. And he had given her no reason to think otherwise. She had delivered, fulfilled her promise despite the cost, and then she had squeezed his hand and walked away from him. Joel ground his jaw hard. 

Ethan’s voice broke through the turmoil in Joel’s head. “I don’t know what Elijah has planned, but I’m involved somehow. For the past year maybe, his ‘lessons’ became very focused on Juliet and all the ways she had wronged me and the town. I think he’s been trying to turn me against her, that's when I began to suspect that he was trying to find her.”

“When Scott came to me, he tried to take me to Elijah but I managed to knock him out,” Ethan glanced at the broken skin on his hands. Joel raised his eyebrows, surprised this almost emaciated man had the strength to knock someone unconscious. 

“He’ll wake up soon, if he hasn’t already. Elijah will know I’m not on his side,” Ethan murmured, fear creeping into his quiet voice. 

Joel wanted to shut him up, he was sick of hearing the horrors that passed his lips. Every word from Ethan’s mouth tightened the knot in Joel’s chest. All Joel could think of was getting Juliet back to him, getting her out of here safely. 

Joel wasn’t sure when he began to think of her beyond the supplies she offered him. It was gradual, achingly slow, almost unnoticeable, but Joel began to crave the feeling of her eyes on him. He began to long for the way his chest tightened when a smile brightened her face. How she was able to smile this whole time, knowing what was waiting for her… Joel almost choked on the fury that caught in his throat. 

Joel struggled to understand the feeling, or even the thought, but Juliet had wormed her way into his chest and now the thought of her in pain or hurt in any way filled his whole body with a rage so intense that searched desperately for a release. 

He should be forming a plan, should be continuing to listen to Ethan’s words which his mind had begun to drown out. But Joel was caught in between the past and present. Every interaction with Juliet had to be reevaluated with this new information, which forced Joel to relive those moments in his mind. When he thought of the night he was injured, he gasped out a strangled breath, refusing to look at Ethan’s confused expression. 

Joel had awoken the following morning with the remaining feeling of Juliet’s lips on his, with the taste of her still lingering in his mouth. He had thought it was a dream, his brain was unable to conceptualise the idea of Juliet touching him without revulsion. But then he had looked in her wide eyes and watched the horror and guilt ripple through them, and Joel knew it had been real. 

Joel was always quick to anger, but this time, it was towards himself. His hands shook with rage as his mind tore into him. He had been delirious, shaken with his injury, but it was no excuse. He had kissed her, kissed Juliet, the girl he was tasked with protecting. It was wrong, sick, even. He had prayed on a younger woman, taken advantage of her, forced himself on her after she had so bravely stitched him up. 

When she had helped him onto the couch that morning, Joel bit his tongue till it bled, forcing himself not to register the feeling of her body on his. His stomach churned with self-hatred, stronger than the feeling usually was. 

He was sick, depraved, a monster… because he found that had begun to crave Juliet’s touch, to find ways to be close to her.

But when she looked at him with that dark gaze, like it had been dropped in warm honey, Joel’s control had slipped. Joel began to taunt her, like the monster had taken hold of his mind for a brief moment, he did things like pin her against a tree and let his breath warm her cheeks. Every action was followed by gut wrenching guilt, and an ache low in his stomach, lower even, that he was unable to ignore. 

Joel ran his hand through his hair, continuing to ignore Ethan’s rambling. He was utterly lost in the memory of Juliet, stuck in the past with the image of her smile, the look in her eyes when she fought men twice her size, and the way she laughed. Juliet laughed like she had no care in the world, like she actually enjoyed his silent, brooding company. 

“Hey!” Ethan’s voice finally sliced through his thoughts, forcing his mind out of the past and into the present. “Are you listening?” 

“What?” Joel fumed, turning to face him. 

“I asked what you were thinking, we don’t have much time,” Ethan huffed, running a hand through his slicked hair. 

Joel nodded quickly, and twisted the knife in his hand. The movement mirrored the repeated churning of his thoughts. 

After a moment, he stopped, stilling the knife immediately before he turned to Ethan. Joel’s eyes dragged over his slim body and his unshaven face, then nodded down at him, the only peace offering he would give.

“Get up,” Joel ordered. “We’re gonna go get her.”

_____________________________

@amyispxnk @shotgun-shelby @http-paprika

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 16

read on ao3 (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 4k

Chapter 16: 'Villain'

Almost a week later:

Juliet's POV:

“I’ll use those rocks to climb over, then I’ll pull you up, okay?” Joel commanded over the roar of water, gritting his teeth as he turned to stare at the makeshift path across the river.

“Shouldn’t I be the one helping you?” Juliet countered, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re the injured one, remember?” she said with a raised eyebrow. 

Joel stared back at her for a long moment, his nostrils flaring as he apparently restrained himself from vocalising his annoyance. Then he turned away from her, not even dignifying Juliet’s mocking concern with a response. 

Juliet let her eyes graze over Joel’s torso where, underneath the dark blue shirt, was his healing stab wound. Her mind instantly went back to that night: her clumsy stitches, Joel’s whiskey, the kiss they shared. Juliet blinked, shaking her head. She had put those thoughts behind her when they had left that house a few days ago, Juliet and Joel were back to normal. There were no lingering looks, no accidental touches, no intense conversations. That was in the past. 

“Juliet,” Joel called over the rush of the river. 

She stiffened. Juliet would never get used to the sound of her name on Joel’s lips. 

“Yeah, okay. You climb over the rocks then pull me up. I got it,” she reluctantly agreed. 

Joel looked down at her, his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned her face, then he nodded. 

He began to move, Joel was surprisingly agile as he stepped between the algae-covered stones, leading a path across the river, towards a larger formation of rocks towering over the other side. 

Juliet followed close behind, fiercely concentrating on not slipping and falling into the water. The current would pull her away instantly. Her eyes were trained on her feet, watching every step. When they reached the edge of the river, Joel turned, balancing on a stone, and stretched his hand out to Juliet, forming a gentle grip on her upper arm. Despite standing in the middle of a river, one wrong move from certain death, Juliet’s whole body ignited with the feeling of Joel’s touch. 

“Wait here,” Joel ordered as he titled his head down to meet her eyes, ensuring Juliet had heard him. Joel held her arm for another second to make sure her balance was okay, then he let go and turned towards the large rocks lining the edge of the river, blocking their path. Juliet welcomed the damp mist from the rushing water, cooling her scorching skin as she watched Joel grip the rocks and climb over. She cringed, thinking about how painful his wound must be.

When Joel reached the top, he turned, beckoning her with a single gesture to move forward so he could grab her. Juliet swallowed and stepped towards him, her legs threatened to tremble as she glided over the algae into Joel’s outstretched arms. His rough hands gripped her, Joel’s fingers digging into her flesh as he demonstrated the intense strength housed within his body and pulled her up onto the stable ground he crouched on. It would have been seamless if Juliet’s knee hadn’t hit off one of the rocks, causing her body to fall onto Joel’s, knocking him to the ground. 

Joel’s groan reverberated through Juliet’s body as she lay pressed against his chest. The sound of their heavy breathing was drowned out by the river, but Juliet could still feel Joel’s hot gasps on her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut, some part of her believed that if she didn't open them, she wouldn’t have to acknowledge that she was once again lying on top of Joel. And that she was making no effort to get up. For those few seconds, Juliet savoured the feel of him beneath her.

“Juliet,” Joel grumbled, his voice strained by her weight on his chest. 

Juliet’s eyes flashed open, embarrassment flooding her. This position was too familiar, too intimate, she had to get up. Her eyes scanned Joel’s face, searching for that disgust she always assumed lingered in his mind from the last time they were this close. Instead, she found Joel’s features twisted in a combination of concern and pain. 

“You alright?” Joel asked in a low voice, barely audible over the rush of the river. His hands started to move again, circling Juliet’s wrists. Juliet’s eyes followed his movement, transfixed by the veins that covered his hands. Then she blinked and nodded slowly, forcing her mind to forget about the feeling of her body on his. 

Juliet nodded again, this time with more force and she shook her arms from Joel’s gentle grip, pushing herself up. 

Juliet stood and stretched her limbs, turning around to face the river as she watched it from the higher ground. It looked magnificent from this angle, the water moved so quickly, foam lingered around the rocks. She wasn’t able to appreciate its beauty when it was one wrong move away from causing her a quick, but very painful, death. 

Juliet kept watching the river with her back turned away from Joel as she listened to him stand up and fix his bag on his shoulders. When she finally turned around, Juliet had wiped every treacherous emotion from her face. Her mouth was set in a hard line and she swallowed rough, ready to continue their hike through the forest she knew all too well. Juliet scanned Joel’s face, making sure he was ready and then she stepped in front of him, heading off into the trees. She wasn’t able to hear Joel’s footsteps over the lingering sound of the river, but Juliet knew that he followed. 

…………………………………………….

Over three years ago, Juliet ran through this forest for two days. Day and night she clawed her way past trees and bushes, almost drowning herself wading through streams, and destroying her throat screaming into the wind. Until Blake eventually found her, huddled under a large tree, her face covered in scrapes and her body shaking with dehydration. 

Now, Juliet was back. This time, she hiked through the forest with Joel sulking behind her. This time, she was heading towards her nightmare, instead of sprinting away from it. This time, she didn’t run through the forest, in fact, her steps were slower than usual. Juliet was practically strolling through the trees, stopping every now and then to brush her hand against a tree trunk or run her fingers through some leaves. If Joel noticed her change of pace, he said nothing, just kept walking behind her. Juliet tried to ignore the heat of his gaze locked on the back of her head. She could feel his unspoken questions in the space between them, she could feel the intensity of his attention. 

The memories of this forest choked her. Tomorrow, they would reach her old home. In a few hours, Juliet would say goodbye to Joel forever. She would see Ethan again, but at what cost? Her life would be over. Juliet only had today, and here she was, forced to walk the same path she fought with blood and tears to escape. 

Juliet reverted to her usual coping mechanism: distraction. 

She twisted her body around, facing Joel as she walked backwards, praying she didn’t walk into a tree. Joel’s eyebrows shot up, the lines on his forehead growing deeper.

“So your brother, in Wyoming…” Juliet began, assessing Joel’s face to see if he was receptive to conversation. When he didn’t immediately shut her down, Juliet continued: 

“What’s his name?” she asked, twisting back around so she could walk beside him, matching her footsteps to his. 

Joel looked over at Juliet, scanning her up and down, his features still displayed his confusion. But he didn’t shut her down, he didn’t turn away. Maybe Joel sensed that she was falling apart inside. Maybe he could tell that she needed something to anchor her back to the present. 

“Tommy,” Joel finally replied. His voice was quiet and he tilted his head down after the name left his mouth, as though it was difficult for him to think about. Juliet knew that Joel didn’t like to share anything personal about himself, or talk about himself at all, really. She was desperate for more information, to hear that vulnerability in his voice again.

“Younger or older?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper. 

“Younger,” Joel said, his eyes now trained on his feet as they continued making their way through the deep forest. 

Juliet nodded. “Why aren’t you together?” 

“A long story,” he responded after a lengthy pause. Joel’s body had visibly stiffened, his footsteps heavier. Juliet swallowed. 

They still walked side by side, and Juliet felt that there was a strange anonymity to this position, neither could read each other’s expressions unless they actively turned their heads. A few minutes later, she tried again.

“So, you go to Wyoming and find Tommy… then what?” Juliet asked. She purposefully kept staring forward, she didn’t want to turn and see the scowl she assumed marked Joel’s face. After a minute, when he didn't respond, Juliet prompted: “Where are you going to go? What are you going to do?” in a cautious whisper. 

Only the sounds of their boots crunching over leaves and twigs filled the space around them. Then Joel’s voice broke the silence. 

“It’s never been an option before,” he said in a low voice. Then his head lifted to survey the trees that surrounded them. Juliet dared to glance over at his face and found a strange look flickering in Joel’s eyes, there was a glimmer of hope lurking behind his dark stare. His mind was allowing himself to imagine a future where he was alive, where he was safe, where he had choices which extended beyond survival.  

He turned to Juliet, a soft curve approaching the corner of his mouth. “Maybe an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch,” Joel drawled, his southern accent somehow thicker as he said the words. The ghost of a smile didn’t leave his face.

“A ranch, huh?” she asked, a little too quick and Juliet cursed herself. She didn't want to scare Joel with her desperate, traitorous, eagerness to know everything about him. “What kind of animals?” Juliet continued, slower this time, more cautious. 

“Sheep,” he answered instantly, then paused, staring down at Juliet and waited until she met his eyes. "They’re quiet, do what they’re told,” he continued in a low voice, amusement dancing in his eyes. 

Juliet’s lips parted in quiet shock, her steps almost stumbling, then a laugh burst out of her. It happened too fast, she didn’t have time to cover her mouth with her hands, to try and hide her smile. No, Juliet’s lips pulled back over her teeth, revealing a huge grin as laughter erupted from deep within her. All of the tension of the last week lept from her at the sound of Joel’s teasing words. “Yeah,” she said through a giggle, attempting to catch her breath. “Good luck with that.” 

Juliet’s laughter rang loud throughout the forest, she hadn’t even noticed that Joel had joined her. His quiet chuckle fused with her roaring amusement. It was only when Juliet turned that she noticed the change in Joel’s expression, the way his lips had stretched into a real smile and the lines around his eyes had deepened. And his eyes… his eyes burned with something Juliet was unable to pinpoint as he stared down at her. Juliet had spent so long with Joel now, she thought she had witnessed every emotion on his face, every expression in his eyes. But she was wrong.

As they continued their steps through the forest and their laughter eventually quietened, that new, startled look never left his brown eyes. 

……………………………………………………

Hours later, night descended on the forest and Joel steered them off path into a small clearing between a couple trees to set up camp. Since their truck was ransacked and they lost most of their supplies, Joel and Juliet had been sleeping on their jackets nearly every night. It was usually fine, the mild air would continue into the night and they were able to sleep somewhat comfortably. However, over the past week, the weather turned. It felt as though the world had remembered that it was now autumn and the temperature had suddenly dropped to match the season. 

“Would it be stupid to ask if we could risk a fire tonight?” Juliet asked, staring hopefully at Joel’s back as he bent down, searching through the backpack he had propped against a tree. 

Joel scoffed, stretching his neck around to meet her eyes. “What do you think?” he responded, sarcasm dripping from his deep voice. Any amusement from earlier was long gone, Joel was back to his usual grumpy demeanour. 

“Okayyy,” Juliet answered, lifting her hands in defence. 

They didn’t speak for a while after that, both of them silently reaching around in their backpacks, pulling out the remainder of their food supply. Juliet’s hands froze when she gripped the final can from the raided the high school. It suddenly hit Juliet that this would be their last meal together. Tomorrow, they would reach Juliet’s old community and they would go their separate ways. Never again would they eat cold twenty year old ravioli in a can, sharing identical looks of disgust. 

Juliet’s eyes fluttered closed and her chest tightened. Complicated emotions swirled in her gut. Tomorrow she would see Ethan again, she would save him from whatever torment her father had put him through. But any joy from seeing him again would be destroyed by the knowledge that she would take his place. Juliet’s free hand curled into a fist. 

Throughout this whole journey with Joel, Juliet knew where she was heading. She had prepared for it, mentally enforcing her emotional defences, ensuring she could survive. But it hadn’t felt real until they had reached the forest. The forest once meant freedom to Juliet, her journey was a gift from Ethan, it had marked her as a survivor. Now, it was just a reminder of what she had lost, what she was now forced to return to. 

“Hey,” Joel’s voice cut through Juliet’s spiralling thoughts. She looked up, her eyes wet with unshed tears. Joel stood above her, holding the remainders of his own food supply. 

Juliet held her breath, praying that Joel wouldn’t notice the tears in her eyes or the haunted expression on her face. 

He paused for a second, running a hand over the scruff of his jaw before he looked back down at her. “Ready to eat?” he asked, his tone was casual, as though he hadn’t just stopped Juliet from falling down a hole of her deepest fears and regrets. 

Juliet forced her mouth into a small smile, then she nodded. 

Joel had cleared an area between two trees and positioned his torch on the ground to provide some light. Juliet placed herself down against the tree, Joel sat opposite her, hitting the ground with a groan and murmur about his legs. Juliet just rolled her eyes. 

They ate in silence, passing the can between them and nibbling on the suspicious berries Joel had found. Juliet usually attempted conversation as they ate, she would crack some joke or ask Joel a handful of questions which he would either ignore or vaguely answer. During this dinner, their final dinner, Juliet was overcome by her sorrow. Thinking back to earlier that day, she couldn’t believe she had found a reason to laugh. That moment felt so far away to her now. Juliet just stared into the torch light, relishing in the way it burned her eyes. 

Joel cleared his throat. Juliet blinked and looked up, he was staring right at her, his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened when he noticed the expression on her face. Juliet hadn’t bothered to force a smile this time. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” he asked quietly. Juliet was surprised, his voice was soft, gentle almost, a stark contrast to the darkness in his eyes. 

Juliet rolled her shoulders and leaned back against the tree. “Shoot,” she replied. 

Joel nodded, tilting his head downwards then back up to her curious face in a subtle movement. Joel appeared to be carefully considering his words, as if he were holding something back. 

“That fuck - Blake” Joel almost snarled, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he said the man’s name. “He said he found you half dead in some forest in Iowa... was he tellin’ the truth?” he asked, his voice was as sharp as a razor's edge. 

Juliet gasped, her mind flashed back to the gas station, trapped between the wall and Blake’s body as he taunted Joel.

“You remember that?” she whispered, her eyes glued to Joel’s dark stare. 

“Was he?” Joel pressed. “Tellin’ the truth?” 

Juliet looked away for a brief moment, searching for something in the dark to tell her what to do, to tell her what to say. She sighed, it was her last night with Joel, what was the harm in answering his question?

Juliet turned back to Joel, her fingernails began to dig into her palms. She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Was it this forest?” Joel questioned, his voice low and rough. His eyes scanned Juliet’s face with the bite of a surgeon's knife, she could feel it in the blush that erupted over her skin. She kept her features steady, her mask on, he couldn’t know how dangerous these questions were. 

“Yes,” she responded, attempting to keep her tone as casual as possible. Juliet didn’t want Joel to know that she was falling apart inside, that his questions were digging away at the walls she had carefully built over the past three years. She didn’t want Joel to know that she was terrified of what might spill out. 

“That’s what I don’t get,” he said, then sat forward, resting his arm on his bent knee. “Why would you be lyin’ half dead in a forest only a few miles from your home?” 

Juliet froze, every muscle locked up. She might have even stopped breathing for a second. Silence lingered between them. 

“Is there somethin’ you’re not tellin’ me?” Joel demanded, his voice was dangerous, probing… concerned. 

Juliet swallowed and shifted against the tree, then tilted her chin up, refusing to let her mask slip entirely even if it had faltered slightly. 

“No… I -” she started, then cut herself off with a harsh cough. “Something happened a few years ago and I had to leave,” Juliet began again, staring straight ahead at Joel. “I was young, didn’t know how to find food or shelter. Blake found me and we travelled across the country together. You know the rest,” Juliet explained quietly. 

Joel sat with her words for a minute, his face was lit up by the torch in a way that made him look even more menacing. His eyes weren’t just dark anymore, they were black. 

His gaze dropped to Juliet’s hands, where her fingernails almost burst the skin on the palms. Joel’s brows knitted together. 

“And now what? You’re just goin’ back? After all this time?” he barked out. Anger suddenly slowed through him, trembling his hands and deepening his scowl.  

“There’s people that need me,” Juliet argued.

“Your dad?” Joel questioned, his eyes narrowing.  

Juliet felt her walls begin to crumble. Where was this all coming from? Why did he wait until now to ask her all this? To question her story?  

“Yes, my father,” she said. “And others.”

Joel just scoffed and pulled his whiskey flask out his bag, taking a long drink.

Juliet remembered what happened the last time they shared that flask. The blush on her skin deepened. She had to diffuse this tension, Joel was getting worked up over nothing. She let out a deep breath and folded her hands in front of her, attempting to ignore the stinging crescent shaped marks now covering her palms.

“Listen, Joel. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me over the past couple months. But tomorrow I’m going home,” she stated, her voice clear, confident. Then she waited until he met her eyes again. “You’ll get your supplies, I promise.” 

Joel’s mouth dropped open, then shut again just as quickly. Juliet didn’t even have time to blink before he pushed himself off the ground and stalked over to her. 

“You think that’s what this is about?” he growled, towering over Juliet’s form as she pressed her back harder against the tree. “That I’m worried about the supplies?” he continued, then barked out a cold, humourless laugh.

Juliet didn’t like feeling small, she didn’t enjoy having Joel look down at her, so she stood. Even when standing as tall as she could manage, she still only came up to Joel’s shoulder, but it was better than cowering on the ground. 

Joel wasn’t shaken by her movements, he used it as an opportunity to stride closer to her until there were only inches between them. Juliet breathed in his scent of pine and smoke and had to stop herself from closing her eyes. 

Joel made a sound from the back of his throat and moved closer, forcing Juliet to back up against the tree behind her. Joel put his arms out, his palms now flush with the wood. Juliet was caged in.

“Juliet,” he whispered, the fury in his eyes had melted with the heat between their bodies. “I’m not gonna take you somewhere unless I know you’ll be safe, ” Joel vowed. 

Juliet’s eyelids fluttered close. Her throat was burning with all the words she couldn’t say to Joel. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so honest before. And now she had to repay him by lying to his face. 

She blinked up at him, her pupils flared at the close proximity between them. Joel could see every microexpression on her face, he could feel the rise and fall of her chest. If she was going to lie, it had to be convincing. Joel wasn’t a man to go back on his word, if he didn’t think her old home was safe then he would probably throw her over his shoulder and create a new plan to get to his brother. 

Juliet cleared her throat and reached a hand up to place on Joel’s chest. She could feel his heart thumping against her palm. 

“I’m going home, Joel,” she breathed, then dug her fingers deeper into her palm, preparing herself for the bite in her next words.

“It’s the safest place for me.”

As each word left her mouth, Juliet began to rebuild the wall in her mind, repairing the parts that Joel damaged with his unprompted concern. 

Juliet swore that Joel flinched, she felt his heartbeat falter under her gentle touch. But there was no time to reflect on it, no time to say anything else that might ease the pain she saw ripple across his features, because seconds later he had let go of her and stalked back over to his backpack by the other tree. 

Once again, the whiskey flask was in his hand, then he was taking another couple gulps before he dropped it back in his bag. 

Juliet’s back was still pressed against the tree, the cool bark helped ease the heat invading her skin. She couldn’t believe that she was cold earlier, that she had wished for a fire. At the sound of Joel’s metal flask hiting against the buckle of his bag, Juliet was knocked out of her trance and she moved forward, sliding back down to sit on the ground. 

She watched Joel reach over to the torch and hover his finger over the switch, then turn and catch her eyes again. Juliet almost gasped in shock. Joel’s expression was vacant, every emotion she had seen marked across his face had been stripped clean. He stared at her like she was a stranger, like he hadn’t just announced his devotion to her safety. 

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, and switched off the light. 

Even in the darkness, Juliet could still sense him near.

As they both drifted off, Juliet unconsciously reached her hand across the gap between them, her fingers almost touching the rough hand of the man who did the same.

______________________

@amyispxnk @shotgun-shelby

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 21

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 4.5k

Chapter 21: 'I'm Your Man'

Juliet’s POV:

Juliet’s eyes opened to a multitude of colours. Shades of blue bled through gaps in the thick canopy of leaves above her. It was dull, but not dark. The last remnants of daylight still brightened the sky, postponing the darkness a little longer.

Juliet lay on the ground, staring up at the branches filtering her view of the sky. She blinked a few times, allowing her eyesight to focus. The fog of sleep still lingered, blocking any frightening thoughts from entering her fragile mind. Juliet stretched out her fingers and found that she was lying on something, it felt soft and warm, a sleeping bag? 

She listened. There was a sizzling sound, joined by the smell of tomatoes? Juliet wasn’t sure, but her stomach rumbled in response. A groan escaped her lips as she attempted to turn her body in the direction of the sound, and the smell. There was a blurry figure to her left, hunched over what she assumed was a camping stove. She could see the faint blue flames flickering below the outline of a black pot. Juliet blinked another few times, attempting to fully regain her eyesight. 

As her body shifted to the side, fresh pain radiated across her stomach, bringing tears to Juliet’s eyes. She almost collapsed back onto the ground, but the fog was clearing from her mind and Juliet was desperate to gain a proper grip on her reality. So she bit her lip, her teeth piercing the delicate, cracked skin, and used her shaky arms to push herself up until she sat upright on the sleeping bag, facing the direction of the blurry figure. 

Juliet was breathing heavily, her whole body echoed the tiredness she felt deep in her bones. The longer she was awake, the more pain started to travel across her body, lighting a blazing path through her limbs, across her stomach, and up to her head. Juliet reached her hand up to the side of her face, gently hovering over the crusted blood with trembling fingers. A long groan released from between her gritted teeth. 

“Juliet?” the blurry figure called, his voice sounded gentle but urgent. 

“Hmmm,” she moaned, her eyes were closed as she waited for the fresh wave of pain to subside. 

Juliet didn’t know where she was or who she was with and, as the fog continued to clear, she began to feel unnerved by this thought.

Then her eyes opened into a deep, piercing shade of green. 

“Ethan?”

His blurry figure had moved from the stove to the space next to Juliet’s hunched body, tilting sideways on the sleeping bag. 

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice cushioned with concern. 

Juliet blinked again and remembered the last time she woke. Her terror, her scream, the pity in Ethan’s eyes. She had been so delirious, so confused, so caught up in her father’s lie. God, what must Ethan think of her? To have saved her all those years ago and then watch Juliet fear the sight of him. 

“Juliet, please,” Ethan breathed. “I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you,” he begged in a quiet voice, inching closer to her frozen form. 

Juliet forced herself not to back away, to stay entirely still as Ethan moved towards her. Juliet believed him, that he would never hurt her. He had saved her, cared for her. He had loved her once. But the sight of him brought ugly memories to her brittle mind, banging on the brick wall she had built around the worst, most disturbing thoughts that she was still too weak to remember. 

“I know,” she murmured, forcing her bottom lip between her teeth again.

A breath of pure relief rushed from Ethan’s mouth and his eyes softened as he continued to stare at her. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It reminded Juliet of warm summer days, lounging on the grass. It reminded her of shy, gentle touches in dark rooms. It reminded her of hope, of something good in the world.

Juliet allowed herself to look at Ethan, really look at him for the first time in almost four years. His eyes had lost a little of their light, they were duller, darkened by deep purple circles beneath them. His jaw, which he had always kept clean shaven, was speckled with hair. His cheekbones were sharper, more defined and his cheeks looked sunken, hollowed. 

What had happened to him after she left? 

Juliet was desperate to ask, to discover why her father had bragged about his work with Ethan, the journey to salvation he had also promised her. But Juliet was overcome with a deep aching guilt which had wrapped around her heart for the past four years, forcing the words to rush from her mouth.

“I’m so sorry I left. I shouldn’t have let you push me through the gate, I should have come back for you earlier, I -”

Juliet’s list of regrets were cut off by the feel of Ethan’s hands as they cupped her cheeks. She flinched as Ethan’s fingers brushed the bruising on her face, her skin had instantly begun to throb under his touch. 

He tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his eyes, which were now only inches from her own. 

“You have nothing to apologise for. All I ever wanted was for you to have a life free from Elijah and everything he did to you. You were supposed to stay away. God Juliet, why did you come back?” Ethan soothed, his words rushed. 

Juliet’s lips parted as Ethan reached his thumb up to brush away the tears she hadn’t realised had begun to fall from her blurry eyes. Ethan’s words washed over her, bringing a new tide of horror. She couldn’t begin to explain the letter, or the journey back to him. She couldn’t think of anything other than her father and the memory of what Ethan had told Joel outside the dark car. 

“He’s… he’s dead, isn’t he?” Juliet breathed, struggling to get the words out as the realisation choked her. 

Shock blazed in Ethan’s eyes.

“I -” he started. “Yes,” Ethan nodded. “He’s dead.” 

Juliet was thankful for Ethan’s gentle hands as they held her upright, taking the weight of the horror in her head. 

“How?” she demanded, reaching her trembling hands up to place on top of Ethan’s, urging him with her gentle touch to clear up the confusion in her head, to fill in the gaps and the missing pieces. 

Ethan stayed silent. Juliet could almost see the thoughts swirling in his head as she stared into his glossy eyes. His eyebrows furrowed and he swallowed rough before he broke eye contact. 

Ethan looked to his left, beyond the camping stove which continued to cook whatever food he had left on top of it. Ethan’s eyes strayed into the forest around them, searching for something. 

Searching for someone.

When his gaze returned to her, Ethan realised his mistake. His eyes had revealed more than he meant to. 

Juliet started to pull back from him, understanding beginning to stiffen her muscles, but Ethan wouldn’t let her. His fingers pressed harder into her cheeks, holding her in place, forcing her gaze to remain within his eyes. Juliet’s bruises were roaring in pain as Ethan’s grip tightened. 

“Please Juliet, just let me explain what happened,” he urged. 

Juliet didn’t want to hear an explanation. She just wanted a name. She just wanted to know who had killed her father. 

But she already knew. Juliet knew exactly who Ethan was searching for with that look. 

Right on time, the sound of crushed leaves and broken twigs entered the space. Juliet couldn’t turn her head, couldn’t look at the approaching figure, as Ethan’s hands continued to cradle her face. But Juliet would recognise those thundering steps anywhere. 

“What are you doin’?” his deep, gritted, voice demanded. 

Ethan instantly let go of her and Juliet turned to stare up at Joel as he towered over them. 

“Joel,” breathed Juliet. But she didn’t need to get his attention because his intense stare was already locked onto her, his eyes roaming over her face, darkening when he caught sight of the bruises and the dried blood.

“You should be restin’” he told Juliet before his eyes darted to Ethan, who had let go of her face but hadn’t moved away. Ethan’s legs were still pressed against her own, his body still leaning towards her. 

“Food’s burnin’” Joel practically growled. Ethan’s eyes shot to the stove and he lept up, scrambling to take the pot off of the heat.

Juliet released a weighted breath. 

Joel had killed her father.

Some more gaps in her memory began to fill in, she remembered the basement, she remembered the slap, she remembered the hot poker. And then nothing.

But there was more, she knew there was more that she was missing, more gaps littered through her memory. 

Juliet’s eyes dipped from Joel’s to his hands and the bloody, open skin on his knuckles. 

Joel had killed her father and, by the look of it, used his own hands to do the job. 

Juliet felt like her whole worldview was titling. How had her life changed so much in a matter of months? And then again, in a matter of hours? 

There were too many emotions, too many thoughts swirling in her head. Threads of guilt, fear, and anger were entangled and, looking at Joel, she found that she was unable to separate them. 

Looking at Joel... Juliet was afraid.

Not so much of him, but for him. What had he been forced to do to save himself? To save her? Juliet brought him there, she had bribed him, convinced him to take her home. And now he stood before her with broken knuckles and a wide eyed, horror filled expression. 

“Joel, what happened? Where are we?” she whispered, staring up at him through damp eyelashes. 

His eyebrows pinched together as a muscle jumped in his jaw. Joel’s eyes darted to the forest around them before his hand found the back of his neck and his eyes found hers again. 

“We’ve been drivin’ bout a day and a half, since we left…” he cut himself off. 

Juliet nodded, the action forcing more dizziness to invade her vision. She thought she saw Joel move to step forward, his hand widening towards her. But when she looked up again, he was standing as still as carved marble. She must have imagined it. 

There was so much to say to him. So many questions to ask. He had killed her father, and Juliet couldn’t make sense of how to feel about it. The most prominent emotion firing through her mind was guilt, an unbearable feeling of remorse pressing tight against her chest. 

“What happened?” she pressed again, desperate to gain a full picture of that night. How had Joel and Ethan met? Did Joel find her after she had passed out? Every question that floated through her mind was accompanied by a new flash of pain in various parts of her body. Everything ached.

Joel gritted his teeth and Juliet watched as his jaw moved from side to side ever so slightly. Then he parted his lips and Juliet’s heartbeat quickened with anticipation. But before Joel could utter a word, or even give a hint of an explanation, Ethan appeared between them with two metal plates in his hands, each containing a strange looking red sludge with dark, burnt patches.

“Here,” he muttered as he handed one to Joel without looking up at the daggers in his eyes. Then Ethan bent down and gave Juliet the other, placing it carefully in her lap. 

Juliet nodded her thanks before her eyes returned to Joel. She started to remember what happened in the car. The way he touched her face with such tenderness and the soothing words he whispered. Juliet craved that closeness again, she needed him next to her, to hold her as she was falling apart. 

Juliet blinked, startled as Ethan sat down beside her with his own metal plate, shifting so that their knees touched. Juliet watched Joel follow the movement with a lethal focus before he clenched his hand around his plate, took two steps back and sat down on the ground opposite to them.

As the sky darkened, Joel brought out his torch, placing it on the ground to illuminate the small patch of forest the three of them occupied. Ethan started eating with a ravenous pace, Joel was slower, more careful of the food, savouring it as he ate. Juliet worried for Ethan, when was the last time he had a proper meal?

Juliet looked down at her plate. It didn’t look edible, but most foods didn’t look edible nowadays. Still, she couldn't bring herself to eat. 

Juliet bit her lip hard to stop tears from forming in her eyes. She had done enough damage, she refused to show Ethan or Joel more of the mess that lived inside her head. Juliet picked up the metal fork Ethan gave her with shaking fingers and started to push her food about the plate, putting on a show.

“Need to decide where we’re going, Juliet,” Ethan said between mouthfuls of food, nudging her with his knee. 

Juliet’s eyes darted to Joel. He wasn’t looking at her, but she noticed that his hand had stilled over his plate, and she watched as his fingers curled tighter around the fork. 

Slowly, she turned her head to Ethan. He had continued eating but Juliet knew he was awaiting a response. 

She had never considered where she would go after leaving her father’s community because she hadn’t even considered that she would have a life after returning home. Ethan’s question seemed like a fairytale, the idea that Juliet could choose what to do with her life was a fantasy. Her brain struggled to conceptualise a future for herself beyond the forest they sat within. Juliet found her mind drifting to the man who sat opposite her, his broken knuckles flashing red in the torchlight. Having spent years working alongside Joel in the QZ and then months sharing every moment of every day together… Juliet struggled to imagine a future beyond him. 

Juliet made a noncommittal sound with a shrug of her stiff shoulders. “I’m not sure,” she answered, staring down at her plate. The guilt in her chest grew again. Ethan had never left the community and had always dreamt of leaving and travelling the country, finding other survivors, making a life for the both of them. 

Her heart squeezed with shame when she realised that she didn’t share that same desire. Juliet had been on her own for a while now, had travelled the country, and had experienced the worst parts of humanity. She was tired and weary of the world. Juliet just wanted to feel safe. 

Ethan should have been the one to escape that day, not Juliet. She didn’t deserve the freedom, it was never her dream.

“Come on,” he urged. “We always talked about leaving, going anywhere we wanted.” Ethan’s voice was confused and almost pleading. 

Juliet had tried not to indulge Ethan’s fantasies in the past. Even when she responded with polite words, her chronic cynicism had always shone through. Ethan must remember a different image of her, one tinted by the rose coloured lenses of hope and fear. 

“We could travel the country, meet new people,” he continued, now turning to face her again. “Even see the world!” Ethan said with a laugh. 

Juliet flinched, stilling her fork over her untouched food. She saw Blake’s face in her mind, the night he found her in the woods. She had been so afraid, so utterly unprepared for life outside of the gates of her father’s community. Juliet paid a lot for his protection. And god did she need it. Her journey to Boston taught her a lot of things. She learned how to kill and how to not feel bad about it. She learned how to swallow her tongue and she learned how to survive. Ethan had no idea what he was talking about, and she was glad. Juliet never wanted Ethan to see the things she had seen or experience the things she had experienced. Ethan was a logical person, having spent his days studying medicine, but he had one fault and it was his unflinching ability to preserve his hope at all costs. Juliet just prayed his hope wouldn’t get him killed one day. 

“I -” she began, stopping when the words almost choked her. 

“She’s already seen it all,” a gruff voice interrupted. 

Ethan stiffened, sitting up straighter. Juliet risked a glance at him from the corner of her eye and found that he was staring straight at Joel, his mouth transformed into a tight line. Juliet’s eyes flickered to Joel next, surprised by his words. But he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes, blazing with fury, were positioned on Ethan’s irritated expression. 

“It’s a big world, Joel,” Ethan argued, his eyes darting to Juliet. “Juliet and I have been given a second chance, we’re not going to waste it.” 

Juliet frowned, reaching a hand to rest on Ethan’s knee, attempting to get his attention. The air had grown incredibly tense and Juliet was too tired, and in too much pain, to bear witness to whatever pissing contest was going on in front of her.

Joel’s eyes followed her movement, his jaw hardening at the sight of her trembling fingers on Ethan’s leg. 

“What does Juliet think?” Joel mused, his words dripped in bitterness as the sly shadow of a smile darkened the corners of his lips. He still didn’t meet Juliet’s very pointed stare, rather continuing to pierce Ethan with his downward gaze. 

Ethan, finally noticing her touch on his knee, turned towards Juliet. A crease formed between his brows. Her heart skipped a beat when she realised they were both awaiting her answer. 

Juliet stared into Ethan’s eyes and took a deep breath. She had to be truthful with him. “I don’t know what to think, I just want somewhere safe. I’m tired, Ethan. I’ve seen enough,” Juliet explained, softening her words to ease Ethan’s discomfort. 

Ethan’s eyes flickered with hurt, and fractures formed in Juliet’s heart as she eased her hand off of his knee. He swallowed rough then turned his attention on Joel, attempting to mirror his look of contempt. 

“Well, what’s your plan then?” Ethan demanded. “You’ve saved Juliet, you’ve got your supplies - where are you going?” 

Juliet looked between them both. There was such anger in Ethan’s words, Juliet wondered what had caused such a rift between them after knowing each other for such a short time. 

Joel completely ignored Ethan, instead choosing to stare directly into Juliet’s eyes. She found that she had to stop herself from squirming under the weight of his sole attention. 

“Tommy’s still out there, I’m gonna go find him,” he began, his words quiet but forceful. “And my guess is he’s found somewhere to hole up, maybe... somewhere safe.”

Juliet’s breath caught in her throat. His words were clear, Juliet understood exactly what he was saying.

He had presented her with an offer, another amendment to their original deal. 

“Somewhere safe,” she instantly repeated.  

Ethan’s head whipped between them. 

“Juliet you can’t seriously want us to go with him,” Ethan argued, realising what her words meant, leaning closer into Juliet, attempting to speak into her ear. “You know what he’s done.”

Juliet’s head turned sharply, her nose almost touching Ethan’s as she stared at him with a piercing look. “Ethan, Joel got me to you. He helped me save you. I know exactly what he’s done,” she whispered back, her words almost transforming into a hiss as they continued to rush from her lips. “The only difference is that you don’t know what I’ve done, what I’m capable of now.” She paused, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them back into Ethan’s shocked stare. Her anger had taken over so suddenly, Juliet hadn't realised how much rage bubbled under the surface of her skin.

“I need this journey to end, I want us to have a life without fear or bloodshed. Maybe we can find it there, together,” she continued after a breath, softer this time. 

After a moment, Ethan’s eyes finally softened at her words and he leaned back. He turned towards Joel, then back to Juliet, and nodded slowly. “Where you go, I go,” he declared, pinning her with his stare. 

The tension began to crack and Juliet watched Joel release his vice-like grip on his fork and continue eating. She breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, Juliet’s panic began to subside. She knew it was selfish, but she was terrified of a possibility where she was separated from Joel, where she would never feel his commanding presence walking behind her, or feel his touch whenever he let his guard down. 

Juliet stared down at her plate. “Where you go, I go,” she repeated in a whisper. 

Juliet wasn’t entirely sure which man her words were meant for. 

………………………………….

Later, when Ethan had passed out on his sleeping bag, Juliet was still awake.

She sat hunched over, her plate of food still sat on her lap, uneaten. The pain from her burn had reached a point where she was unable to move, any adjustment of her body forced every muscle on her torso to lock up in agony. 

She could see Joel in the distance, standing between two trees, a shotgun in his hands. He had taken the first watch but Juliet assumed his watch would last the entire night. She could tell that Joel didn’t trust Ethan and Juliet was currently unable to stand. So, Joel held the sole responsibility of their safety once more. 

Sat on her sleeping bag, unable to lie down, Juliet had a lot of time to think. She recalled her time in the basement, forcing herself to re experience every horrible second to try and uncover that final missing piece of her memory. The thought of it made her stomach churn so she knew that her body remembered, but something in her mind was holding it back. 

When the memory of the hot poker and the satisfaction in her father’s eyes reentered her mind again, Juliet knew enough was enough. She had to get to sleep. So, she managed to slide her pate off of her lap and onto the ground beside her, then she sucked in another deep breath and -

“Fuck,” she gasped out as she attempted to twist her body to the side. The pain was unbearable, tears burned in her eyes as she attempted to slow her breaths. 

Seconds later, a hand gently grasped her chin, forcing her gaze up to meet his. 

Joel knelt down in front of her, his shotgun now dropped onto the ground next to her plate.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded as his dark eyes searched hers. 

Juliet was so tired, she didn’t have the energy to disguise her pain anymore. Tears began to cloud her vision.

“I can’t move. Can you help me?” she murmered, her voice cracking as she said the words. 

Joel’s lips parted as he nodded once, sharp and quick. “What do you need?” he asked softly.

Juliet was always amazed by the gentleness that lay beneath Joel’s hard, rough exterior. And she was beginning to notice that it only ever appeared when they were alone, when Joel would look into her eyes in the dark and feel the electricity spark between them. 

“Can you help me lie down? It hurts too much,” Juliet replied as a yawn worked its way up her throat. 

“I can do that,” Joel assured her in his quiet voice, thick with his southern drawl when he spoke this low.

Juliet braced herself as Joel positioned himself behind her and slowly tugged her body down onto his lap. The tears were freely pouring from her eyes, the pain was a blazing fire on her torso. But Joel’s touch was soothing and within seconds, he had her lying on her sleeping bag with her head on his lap. She wasn’t sure how they managed to get into his position but she released a quiet moan as soon as her head hit Joel’s thigh, she was so tired and his body was so warm, Juliet could feel herself drifting off. 

But before sleep could take her, she felt the rough skin of Joel’s fingers sweep a lock of hair off of her face and tuck it behind her ear. She opened her tired eyes to find Joel gazing down at her. Even in the dark, Juliet could see the way his pupils flared, darkening his eyes even further. He waited a moment, then tucked his hands under her head, pulled his body out from beneath her and laid her head onto the sleeping bag.

Juliet didn’t take her eyes off of him and, although she no longer lay on his lap, Joel didn’t move from her side. As Juliet watched him, she saw Joel’s eyes dart to the plate of food on the ground and his jaw tensed.

“You’re not eatin’” he said. 

Juliet swallowed and licked her lips. “Not hungry,” she murmured, not breaking eye contact. 

Her sleep deprived brain didn’t have the same filter as normal and Juliet found herself desperate to ask Joel about her father. She had to know if it was true. She had to hear it from him. 

“Joel,” she breathed. “Ethan told me what happened.”

Joel’s entire body stiffened but he didn’t look away, he didn’t try to deny it. 

“What he did to you -” Joel started, then paused to shake his head. “He had to die.” 

Joel’s words were so clinical and detached as though his memory had taken him back to that moment. 

Juliet felt lightheaded at the thought of Joel seeing her like that. The fact that Joel had witnessed what her father had done to her… what she had let him do to her. Juliet was ashamed and the guilt choked her. 

“I know,” she said.

Shock blazed in Joel’s eyes. Juliet watched the muscles in his throat move. 

“I never meant for you to get involved. You were supposed to get your supplies and leave. I never thought it would turn out like this, that you would have had to ….” Juliet trailed off, breathless from the release of her guilt soaked words. 

“Don’t,” Joel ordered as a dangerous look began to cross his face. He opened his mouth and looked like he was going to say something else but then his eyes dropped to her hands which hovered over her stomach and he stopped, his lips pressing together. 

He shook his head and his eyes shot to the stars that filtered through the trees above them.

“You should’ve told me,” he said quietly with an aching intensity after a long moment.

But Juliet’s eyes had fallen closed and the sound of his slow breaths had already lulled her to sleep.

___________________________________

@amyispxnk @shotgun-shelby @http-paprika

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 9

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Warnings: threats and allusions to sexual assault + graphic violence

Word count: 5.9k

Chapter 9: 'Carolina'

One Week Later…

A cold pressure spread across the side of Juliet’s head. She shifted, tilting to the side but the solid surface remained, creating an uncomfortable weight against her skull. A groan escaped her chapped lips but her eyes stayed shut, squeezed tight against the light which threatened the darkness behind her eyelids. A soft rumbling sound breathed in Juliet’s ear and she felt her body shake with the vibrations that rattled around her head. What is going on -  

“Shit!” Juliet yelped and sat up, her eyes wide open. She was in a car, a dusty road projected across the front of her vision. Juliet released a slow breath of relief at the sight of the familiar horizon, the same horizon they had followed for several hours now. Only now its colour had deepened, the soft pinks transformed into a multitude of blues. 

Juliet turned to her left, her neck now incredibly stiff, and found Joel in the driver’s seat. He had one hand on the wheel, exactly where he was before she fell asleep, although now he stared at her with his eyebrows raised. Juliet could have sworn there was a slight curve to the corner of his mouth, but that was impossible. 

She sighed and reached a hand up to massage her neck. “Eyes on the road,” she grumbled. Joel’s face was a blank slate again, his head turned upwards before his eyes met the road.

Over a week had passed since their night at Bill and Frank’s. They had left early the next morning, packing the truck with weapons, food and anything else Joel deemed necessary for their journey. He had estimated that it would take about two days of near constant driving to reach Iowa, a task he was very much prepared to complete until they ran into trouble.

About five hours into their roadtrip, Juliet spotted the signs of a group travelling the same road. Fear had gripped her, sudden and fierce, as she pointed towards the man standing in the middle of the road ahead of their truck. He was crouched in a defensive pose, his hands outstretched above his head and he was shouting, a series of “please, please, please,” echoing in the deserted highway. The action struck Juliet with a sense of deja vu, she recognised the performance: a single man, entirely alone, with no belongings in the middle of the day, looking strangely clean and unharmed for a post-apocalyptic vagabond. 

“Don’t stop,” Juliet had urged Joel, as every muscle in her body froze. 

“I wasn’t fucking planning on it,” Joel growled as he grabbed the wheel and dragged it to the left in one powerful movement, the truck tires squealed and burnt rubber invaded the air as it swung off the road into the trees.

They had to stay off the highways after that. 

Instead, Joel drove them through deserted back roads and rough woodland trails which the truck barely survived. They also limited their time on the road, only driving when the sun was high and the wind howled around them to mask the roar of the engine. Joel was the most cautious man Juliet had ever met, his mind always went to the worst case scenario. It was annoying as hell, but an incredibly useful trait in a partner while travelling the battered wasteland of America. 

After over a week on the road, Juliet was used to the routine, familiar with the subtle signs of Joel’s weariness at the end of a long day and the soft tapping of his fingers on the leather steering wheel. Which was why, when Juliet woke in the truck to the sunset’s approach on the horizon, she blinked and dared to take another peek at Joel, a question lining her lips. He was usually so careful about staying off the road when the light began to shift. Joel must have felt her confusion because he responded to her silence:

“There’s a town about a mile away. We can find a place to lay low when we get there.” 

Juliet let her gaze fall to the forest lining either side of the truck, her brows furrowed. Joel’s decision was final of course, but she wondered what had urged him to risk driving into the evening. Maybe he was sick of moving slowly, maybe he was desperate to get rid of her, get his supplies and get to his brother. Juliet, too, felt the crushing weight of each second they spent on the road and not at her destination. She was sure Ethan felt it too. 

Juliet shuddered and wrapped her jacket around her, faking a chill. Her shoulder had begun to heal properly, Joel had rebandaged it again before they left Bill and Frank’s but now that her infection had thankfully cleared up, she could take care of it herself. Joel wasn’t forced to touch her anymore, he didn’t have to flinch every time his calloused fingers met her skin. 

Juliet let her head fall against the back of the seat once more and her eyes fell closed, listening to the tap of Joel’s fingers. In the fading light, Juliet allowed herself to fade into another dreamless sleep. 

…………………………………………………………………………

“Get up,” Joel’s voice cut through Juliet’s mind, his voice a harsh, warped whisper in her sleep soaked subconscious. 

She blinked rapidly, attempting to take in her surroundings. Juliet sat up and turned her head, her eyes still adjusting to the darkness now clouding her vision. It was pitch black, night had fallen.

“What’s happening? Why did we drive for so long?” Juliet croaked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. 

Her eyes were still squeezed tight when an arm wrapped around her head and a warm hand closed over her mouth. Juliet reacted immediately and reached her hands up, clawing at her attacker, her broken nails digging into the hard flesh. 

“Shhh, it’s me,” Joel’s voice whispered in her ear, his stubbled cheek pressed against the side of her head. He didn’t react to the small scrapes now piercing his skin.

Juliet’s body sagged instantly at the sound of Joel’s voice. Her back pressed against the front of his body despite the odd angle they were positioned in. When he felt the recognition flare through her, Joel’s hand slid from her mouth to rest on her collarbone. Juliet’s eyes were wide, scanning the darkness which stretched in front of the truck window, she tried to turn and look at Joel’s face, desperate to gain some understanding of their situation but Joel’s hold on her was solid and unyielding.

“We’re bein’ followed,” Joel hissed in Juliet’s ear, his voice thick with urgency. “They’ve got us boxed in, we need to get to that store along the street without makin’ a sound.” 

Juliet could just make out the faint outline of a shop when she squinted her eyes, the world around her was so dark that only Joel’s soft breaths grounded her in reality.

“When I say go, we’re goin’ to leave the truck and sprint for the store. You run without lookin’ back, I’ll find a way to get us in,” Joel said, breathing the instructions in her ear. 

Juliet said nothing, waiting for Joel’s signal.

“You hear me?” he asked, his voice practically a growl in her ear.

Juliet nodded her head, her chin barely able to tilt downwards in Joel’s embrace, she felt his head turn, as though he was scanning their surroundings. 

“Now,” he whispered. 

In a smooth motion, Joel let go of Juliet and pushed her towards the door on her side of the truck as he reached down to grab the gun placed strategically at his feet. Juliet stumbled out the truck, her own gun locked in her hand, safety off. 

Seconds later, they were speeding across the dark street, the sound of their steps ricocheting off the stone buildings lining the road. They had left everything in the truck, their food, their backpacks, their brief pretence of peace. They only had their guns, Juliet’s knife, and the variety of weapons Joel probably had stashed on his body. Juliet could barely see Joel in the pitch black, she followed his footsteps as he rushed in a straight line towards the large store at the end of the street, the moon cast a soft glow on the red circles attached to the top of the building. 

Juliet’s breath escaped her mouth in rough gasps, the remaining haze from her sleep dulled her senses as she ran after Joel, not daring to turn back at whatever or whomever had spooked him. When they reached the building, Joel signalled with a quick movement of his hand to follow him around the side of the store, their bodies practically plastered to the crumbling grey stone.

Their brief pause against the wall allowed Juliet to take a deep inhale of the night air, her clarity returning in a flood of panic and disorientation. She reached out and clutched Joel’s arm, he turned towards her immediately, his eyes burned with a hot fury, wide with a sharpened focus; his survival instincts out in full force.

There was a glimmer of fear there too, just a hint of it in the wideness of his eyes, which dampened when he scanned Juliet’s body and found it unharmed. 

Joel was a master at silent communication and the look he gave her in that moment, when an unknown threat was creeping around them, was utterly lethal. The words of confusion, a desperate need to understand what was happening, died on her lips.

Joel shrugged off her careful grip, gave her another desperate look and continued their movements along the side of the store. They reached a door only seconds later, Joel stopped in front of it, instantly attempting the handle. Locked, of course. 

Joel scanned the area around them as Juliet closed her eyes in an attempt to capture evidence of the anonymous figures Joel was so sure were stalking their every movement, concentrating on any sounds passing in the cold wind. Juliet heard nothing, which did not bring her the relief she craved. The continued stillness was disconcerting. 

Joel’s hand grazed her own and Juliet’s eyes flashed open. He stood before her, turmoil raged behind his eyes, the dark brown now entirely invaded by the black of his pupils. Juliet tilted her chin up to meet his cold stare, awaiting whatever instruction lay heavy on his tongue. 

“There’s a window, I’m gonna boost you up to unlock the door from the inside,” he murmured, moving closer to Juliet to ensure she heard his rushed, quiet words. 

Juliet looked behind him at the small window situated just left of the locked door, the glass was smashed and small shards rounded the edge of the frame. Juliet’s eyes met Joel’s again and she nodded, she could feel the invisible threat closing in every second they were still out in the open. 

Joel bent down under the window with a soft groan, his gun now in his back pocket as he cupped his hands for Juliet to step on. Juliet didn’t hesitate, she shifted her own gun into her jacket pocket, quickly stretched her bad shoulder and placed one foot on Joel’s hand, her arms reaching towards the window frame.

Careful to avoid the sharp shards that littered the frame, Juliet used her remaining upper body strength to push herself up, her feet now dangling. Warm hands caught her, Joel stood underneath her, his hands gripped her waist with a tight security she hadn’t realised how desperately she craved. Juliet couldn’t allow herself to think about how good the heat that radiated from his large hands felt against her sore body, she could only use Joel’s offer of strength to push herself the rest of the way. 

As she wriggled through the window she felt the glass tear at her jacket and trousers, covering them in small rips. Juliet cringed when her feet landed on the linoleum floor with a loud thud, she stood for a second in the enclosing darkness listening for any sign of company in the small room. Her torch was in her backpack in the truck so she relied on the dull glow of moonlight seeping in from the window to light the room. Silence surrounded her once more and Juliet decided it was safe enough to unlock the door. The sound of the lock turning was like a crack of thunder in the black stillness of the room, she turned the handle with fearful caution and forced open the door. Joel stood on the other side, gun in hand once again, Juliet barely had time to step back before he pushed through and closed the door behind him with fierce urgency. 

Joel spared Juliet one unreadable glance before he rushed to the door across the room, prying it open and turning to Juliet once again. He met her eyes and raised his finger to his lips, Juliet answered by reaching into her jacket pocket and slipping her gun out. Joel scanned her face then turned and stepped through the door, certain that Juliet would follow close behind. 

The darkness of the store didn’t seem so frightening when Joel was with her, leading the way. Juliet’s trust towards Joel was an odd thing; she trusted his abilities as a survivor, she trusted that he would keep her alive until they reached their destination.

Juliet wondered when that unwavering faith in him had been forged. They worked together for years in the QZ without engaging in any form of conversation, but they were together, always. Each day they clocked in for their shift, each day they both carted bodies to burn in the firepit, each day they watched with gritted teeth as young children were consumed by the flame. Juliet often found herself examining Joel out of the corner of her eye, watching as he rolled the sleeves of his flannel up his smoke covered arms. She felt his eyes on her, too. His gaze was always clinical, analytical, Joel would examine her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. A puzzle he wasn’t sure how he ended up with.

Throughout those couple years, Juliet memorised the sound of every sigh from his lips, the way his jaw would harden when the body of a young girl was next to be burned, and the look in his eyes when a lethal anger spread throughout him. Juliet remembered too, the almost invisible twitch of Joel’s lips when she would complain about her neighbour Kenny to the other people on shift. She remembered the way his hands would clench around his tools when he heard one of the other workers get a bit too familiar with her, Joel’s knuckles would whiten and he would wave her over before the next truck had even rolled in.

Juliet didn’t know Joel well, but she knew enough to trust him. What surprised her over the past couple weeks, though, was the sudden urge to know more about him.

Joel stopped suddenly and Juliet ran into his back, a gasp left her mouth as the air was knocked out of her. Joel reached behind him, his hand now latched onto Juliet’s arm, steadying her as she remained protected at his back. Juliet was practically pressed against his dark jacket, she could smell the smoke and pine which never left his body. Joel turned around and crouched behind the shelves, pulling Juliet down with him, his hand still clenched around her arm. 

Juliet took this opportunity, protected by the towering shelves behind them, to question Joel about what was going on.

“Who’s following us?” Juliet whispered.

Joel’s head whipped towards her, a warning glare stark in his eyes. Their faces were so close, Juliet swallowed hard, then tried again.

“You need to tell me what’s going on,” Juliet hissed, her words stronger than she felt. 

Joel turned away from her, his eyes scanning the aisle they crouched in. There was no one here, Juliet was certain of it. She was used to following Joel’s rules but the pressure of not understanding what was happening was unbearable, Juliet struggled to feel out of control. 

Juliet reached out and touched Joel’s cheek, her fingers brushing over the permanent stubble that shadowed his face. Joel froze, his body locked up, his knuckles white as he gripped his gun. Then he turned, facing Juliet as a muscle jumped in his jaw. Juliet dropped her hand, thankful that they sat in near complete darkness which meant that Joel didn’t see the redness staining her cheeks. Juliet held his gaze, waiting for him to give in and answer her questions. 

Eventually, after several seconds of tense silence, Joel’s eyes hit the ceiling and he began to talk in a hushed whisper, leaning closer to Juliet. 

“Few hours ago, spotted a truck movin’ slow behind us, thought they were bein’ slick hidin’ in between old cars,” Joel began, irritation weaving a rasp through his words. 

“Couldn’t stop, I didn’t know how many was in the truck,” he continued. “Not goin’ to risk an ambush.”

“So I kept drivin’, tried to cut them loose but they must know the area well cause they were unshakeable,” Joel explained, then shook his head. 

“Then another truck showed up, blocking the road,” he said. “They were fucking herding us.”

Joel wiped a hand over his face, resting it on his jaw, then scanned the aisle again. 

“Once they got to this town, they disappeared. Just gone,” Joel said, slower this time as though every word weighed on him.  

Juliet stayed silent throughout Joel’s whole explanation, digesting every bit of information until he mentioned their disappearance. White hot horror crept through her body, tightening every muscle and raising the hairs on her arms. She knew that trick.

“It’s a game to them,” Juliet whispered back, her voice cracking. 

Joel’s eyes shot to her, surprise rippled across his face, his chin pointed down in agreement. 

Something was still bothering Juliet, another question building a pressure inside her.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked, surprising herself with the animosity that laced her words. 

Joel didn’t answer immediately, just glanced down at his hands, one now resting on his knee, the other still white knuckled around his gun.

“I had it handled,” he reasoned, still not looking at her.

Juliet rolled her eyes, then sighed. Her confusion had bled into anger and now, her anger had transformed into a cold disappointment. Juliet trusted Joel, but it was obvious he didn’t share that sentiment. 

“So how are you going to get us out of this?” Juliet replied, then rested her head back against the shelf. If he was so set on handing everything on his own, he could figure this out too. 

Joel glanced at her then looked away, the lines on his forehead deepened. 

“Because you know that they’re watching our every movement, they know we’re in here,” Juliet whispered, then paused. “They’re just waiting for the right moment to come for us.”

“I know,” Joel grumbled. “I’m thinkin’” he added, with a sharp glance towards Juliet’s unimpressed face. She looked down at her hands, her mind desperately forming a plan to get them back to the truck alive. 

Muffled laughter sliced through the silence, accompanied by the sounds of multiple harsh footsteps booming across the floor. 

Juliet’s head whipped towards Joel but his eyes were already trained on her, alarm darting across his face. Joel raised his finger to his lips again then pointed to his ear, listen.  

Juliet sat frozen against the cold metal of the shelves, Joel’s leg brushing against hers as they remained in complete silence, listening to the movements of the people laughing and joking across the store. The shop was big enough that the sounds were muffled, Juliet thought the voices were male but she couldn’t be sure. She let out a long, slow breath, if they were on the other side of the store that meant they had time to figure this out. She turned to Joel, desperate to signal some sort of plan to escape but her words were cut off when a cry rang out across the room. 

“Stop!” a girl cried. “Please, no.” 

The voices were clearer now, they were getting closer. Juliet heard a sick laugh in response and a slap echoed across the store. The girl’s cries stopped. 

Rage stormed through Juliet’s body. Those men had a hostage, someone who probably already played their little game… and lost. Juliet pulled her gun in front of her and moved to stand up, ready to kill those men and damn the consequences. 

A hand reached across her chest, pushing her back down to the floor. Juliet hissed and she locked eyes with Joel, his expression was frigid. “Don’t fucking move,” Joel mouthed, his arm not releasing his tight hold on her. Juliet’s hands shook, the sound of the slap had awoken something in her, something she had so desperately attempted to quell. She closed her eyes and the tears clouding her vision spilled down her face, her breaths were quick, there wasn’t enough air in her lungs, she couldn't breathe. 

Joel shifted and pulled Juliet onto his lap as his gentle hand hovered over her chest. “Slow down,” he whispered against her hair. “Deep breaths.”

The shaking had moved throughout her whole body, every part of her trembled. She couldn’t do as Joel asked, she couldn’t do anything. All she heard was that slap echoing through her skull, the girl’s cry ringing in her ears. Terror and rage interlaced in her chest, pumping through her veins. 

“Juliet” Joel breathed, his voice soft. “Please.”

Juliet flinched, startled by Joel’s pleading. She never thought she would hear that word leave his lips, the sound of it had shocked her into distraction. Her breaths came slower, deeper, and her dizziness began to recede. A chill covered her skin as the aggressive trembling slowed, and Juliet wriggled on Joel’s lap, desperate to gain a hint of warmth. Her body had shifted into survival mode, embarrassment wasn’t on her radar. 

Joel released a shocked groan right into Juliet’s ear as his free hand adjusted her on his lap, moving Juliet further down. The chill on her skin began to ease when a heat flooded her body, her breaths now slow and steady. 

When her panic shrank, the voices of the men returned. They were still laughing and spitting disgusting words at the girl who appeared to still be alive. Juliet wasn’t sure that was a blessing. Joel’s grip loosened and Juliet turned to catch his eyes, the voices were getting closer again, they had to do something. 

Juliet’s panic might have receded but her rage overpowered her. She plotted the deaths of those men with a cold precision. Joel met her frenzied gaze and nodded. 

Juliet slid off of Joel’s lap as quiet as she could, her gun steady in her hand. Joel stood, his hand outstretched, hovering behind Juliet’s back to steady her. Juliet took a second to bathe in the warmth that brought her. Then she opened her eyes, her gaze locked on Joel and waited for his instruction. Juliet wasn’t thinking rationally, she needed Joel’s detached approach to lead the way. 

Joel’s jaw shifted, then he signalled to move. 

Juliet was Joel’s shadow, she moved when he moved, stopped when he stopped. They rounded the aisles in the opposite direction from the voices, attempting to catch a glimpse of how many there were. Juliet knew there was no getting out of here without alerting them to their presence. In fact, Juliet wouldn’t have been surprised if the men already knew they were there and the choice to ignore them was another part of their sick game. Juliet shuddered, memories threatening to resurface. 

Joel stopped at the start of another aisle and met Juliet’s eyes, she shook her head slowly and Joel nodded in response. They were in agreement: the men had to die. 

They were in a spot now where they were hidden from the men but could still hear every disgusting word uttered from their mouths. Joel held up four fingers, then one.  Juliet closed her eyes to listen better than nodded. There were four men and one hostage. 

Juliet’s mind finally slid into a state entirely detached from her feelings, her eyes narrowed to the weapon in her hand and what she would do with them. Confusion, anger, and disappointment all faded, only an icy focus remained. Joel looked Juliet up and down, something shifting in his eyes as he caught the expression painted on her face, then he moved down the aisle towards the men. Juliet rolled her neck and followed.

………………………………………….

“Bryan, fuck, don’t hit her again. She has to still look pretty when I have my fun with her,” whined the tallest man out of the group as the rest of them laughed at his vile words. Juliet watched through the gaps between children’s toys on one of the shelves. The girl lay on the floor between the men, her face splattered in blood and her clothing ripped. Juliet ran her finger over the sharp blade of her knife now gripped tight in one of her hands, not caring when it pierced her skin. 

Joel was behind a shelf on the other side of the men, they had split up to coordinate their ambush. Juliet could see him across the aisles as she waited on his signal. She attempted to tune out the vulgar men as the minutes ticked by but the odd word still invaded her mind, forcing her blade to dig deeper into her finger. Blood dribbled down her hand, droplets dripping onto the floor by her feet. 

Joel held up his hand, then used his fingers to count down from three. When he reached one, Juliet moved. 

They shot out from the aisles they were stationed in, guns raised. Juliet wasted no time firing two bullets into the chest of one of the men as Joel put another in a headlock.

Juliet found the crack from his broken neck incredibly satisfying. 

There were two men left, Juliet had her eye on the tall one, she didn’t want his death to be quite so quick. 

The girl was on the floor, her body trembling as the tall one grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up into his arms. His gun was against her neck a second later. Juliet froze, her finger hovered over her trigger. Joel had the remaining man in a tight grip before he could retaliate. Joel’s gun was against his head, ready to pull the trigger until the tall one made his move. 

The tall one’s sick laugh filled the space around them, his free hand stroking the girl’s face with a disturbing gentleness. 

“We were wondering where you guys ended up,” the man continued laughing. Juliet shifted her feet, her eyes darted between the man and Joel, her mind buzzed with possibilities. None of them were particularly good.

“We had our eyes on you two for a while, led you all the way here, but then… well, we found this little one,” he said as he squeezed her cheek, the gun still pressed against her neck with his other hand. The girl had started crying again, silent tears streaming down her blood stained cheeks.

The girl looked a couple years younger than Juliet, and when she looked in her eyes, Juliet saw herself reflected back. 

“What do you want?” Juliet demanded. “I mean, it seems you’re all geared up for your big villain speech, so let’s hear it.” Joel’s eyes darted towards her with a slight shake of his head. Juliet was past caring at this point. 

The tall one’s laughter ceased. He raised an eyebrow, and tilted his head to the side as his eyes surveyed Juliet’s body. Joel tightened his hold against the man in his arms. 

A slow smile slid over his face but his soulless stare remained. Then his smile transformed into a grimace and he released his hold on the girl, Juliet flinched as the girl hit the floor with a cry. By the time Juliet opened her eyes again, the tall one had the gun trained on her. 

“Maybe I made the wrong decision,” he mused.

“Maybe I want you,” he said, tilting his gun up and down Juliet's frozen figure. Then he moved, stalking over to her. “I like my girls with some fight in them.”

Juliet swallowed, her mouth incredibly dry. Her hands started to tremble again as the man moved closer. Juliet’s mind projected another man’s smooth stride over the scene in front of her. Her breaths began to speed up again and her eyes darted to Joel. His gaze was trained on the tall one, murder danced in his eyes. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” Joel growled, digging the gun deeper into the neck of the man wriggling in his arms.

Juliet pushed every horror filled thought to the back of her mind, allowing that cool indifference to enter her consciousness again. She gripped her gun tighter in her hands, ignoring the sweat that coated the handle.

“Oh but we were just getting started,” the tall one moaned, turning towards Joel with another grin on his face. “She's a keeper,” he sang, his words slurring slightly as he winked at Joel. 

Juliet had witnessed many of Joel's hostile stares but the fury burning within his eyes in that moment was brutal. 

“Not interested,” Juliet replied, then pulled the trigger, using the man’s distraction against him.

The tall one didn’t even have time to turn towards her before a bullet shot through the side of his head. In the same second, Joel shot through the neck of the other man. Blood spurted from the wound, pooling beneath him when his body dropped to the floor. 

Juliet’s gaze immediately went to the girl on the floor, covered in more blood now from the bodies of the men who had captured her. She trembled so hard, it looked like her entire body was convulsing. Juliet knelt before her, laying her gun on the floor as she reached for the girl’s arm. 

“We won’t hurt you,” Juliet reassured her, her voice a whisper. “Are you okay?” 

The girl turned towards her, tears flowed down her red cheeks, a sob choked her throat as she reached her hands to grip Juliet’s. 

“Please, help me,” she cried. “I’ve lost my brother, I need to get to my brother,” the girl sobbed, her voice breaking. 

Juliet nodded. “We can help you, you’re safe, you’re safe,” she consoled the girl, stroking her hands across the girl’s trembling palms. Juliet felt an intense protectiveness towards her, her chest was tight with rage and terror but her mind was focused on the safety of the girl in front of her.

She had the same brown hair as Juliet, the same dark eyes, the same scream.

Juliet would convince Joel to take her with them, she would help her find her brother, she would - 

“Juliet,” Joel said urgently, cutting through her racing thoughts. Juliet turned to find Joel towering over her from behind, gun in his hand, locked on the girl. 

Juliet froze, her gaze darting from Joel to the girl and then back again. The girl started to sob again, choking on her own tears.

“Joel?” Juliet asked, confusion overwhelming her. “What are you doing?” 

Joel’s expression was eerily vacant, as though he had made a conscious effort to rid himself of any emotion. “Her arm,” he replied, his voice as empty as his features. 

Juliet followed his gaze to the girl’s arm, the one she had held only seconds ago. Her torn sleeve had pulled back revealing a large bite on the inside of her forearm, already red and blistered with dark veins stretching around the wound. 

“No” Juliet breathed, shock paralysing her. Her hands dropped instantly but she couldn’t move her body. The girl sobbed harder as tears, snot, and blood coated her face. Juliet’s mouth dropped open but no words came out. 

“Please help me,” the girl wailed. “I need to find my brother.”

She wiped her nose with her injured arm. “Will you help me?” she asked, her voice so childlike. 

Juliet glanced up at Joel, his gun was still locked on the girl, ready to pull the trigger at any time but his gaze remained on Juliet’s face, searching her eyes, waiting for her signal. 

A silent sob escaped Juliet’s mouth and she reached up to touch her face, her cheeks were wet with tears. She covered her mouth with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. This can’t be happening, she thought. Sorrow filled every inch of her body, Juliet couldn’t make sense of this situation, it was so unfair. 

Juliet opened her eyes slowly, desperately hoping that this was all a bad dream and she was really still asleep in the truck, on her way to a more familiar nightmare. 

But she wasn’t, she was still in this store, and there was still a girl in front of her who was dying and who needed her. Juliet reached out her hand and felt Joel stiffen behind her as her fingers grazed the girl's cheek. “What’s your brother’s name?” Juliet asked, her voice a gentle whisper.

“Luke,” the girl answered, her voice a quiet rasp. “His name was Luke.” 

Juliet choked on another sob, then smiled at the girl through the tears that spilled into her mouth. Juliet wiped her nose. “You’ll see Luke again,” she said. 

The girl’s sniffles stopped for a brief second as she looked into Juliet’s eyes. “You promise?” she whispered back. 

Juliet dug her broken nails into her own palms, welcoming the pain.

“I promise,” Juliet vowed. Then she nodded, her head tilting down in a sharp movement. 

A shot rang out between them. 

The girl slumped to the side, blood pouring out from the bullet in her head. 

Juliet released a shaky breath and turned towards Joel. Once their eyes met, he reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her up to stand beside him. Juliet’s head was spinning but her gaze eventually fell to the devastation around them. Five bodies littered the ground in their own pools of red. Joel’s grip tightened on Juliet’s arm, holding her close to him. She could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest.

Juliet met his eyes, his expression had thawed a little and she saw a glimmer of pity shine through.

Juliet paused and squeezed her eyes shut, praying the darkness would swallow her whole. Then she opened them and shrugged off Joel’s hand, reaching down to grab her gun from the floor before more blood flowed its way. She wiped it off on her trousers then turned in the direction she believed the exit to be. Joel hadn’t moved, he just stared at her retreating form. 

“Come on,” Juliet called behind her in a cold, lifeless voice. She heard Joel’s footsteps stride forward to catch up with her.

Juliet didn’t need his pity. She didn’t want to witness that knowing stare. She just wanted to forget, move forward with their journey. 

Juliet knew, though, deep in the darkest parts of her soul, that she would never forget the ghost of a smile that haunted the girl’s lips as the bullet hit her head.

_________________________________________

@ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 11

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 1.8k

some more pieces of Juliet's backstory...

Chapter 11: 'Tulsa Jesus Freak'

Five years ago, Iowa. 

Juliet sat on her bed with her legs crossed, the mattress squeaking beneath her as she shifted forward to grab the book laid on the threadbare throw. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. Juliet’s fingers grazed over the cover, mystified by the rolling hills and ferocious dark blue sky painted on the front.

A smile overtook over her features as she flipped through the wrinkled pages and caught the name of the fictional man who often consumed her thoughts: Heathcliff. With his bad temper, quick wit, and undying love for Cathy, Juliet was captivated. She had found her copy behind a bookshelf in her town’s community centre, her hands had clutched around the scratched cover before she furiously stuffed it in her bag before anyone could see. Her father had ordered the burning of all books which did not follow his teachings a few years prior.

This would be her secret, she had thought, rebelliously.  

Every evening when her father bolted the lock on her bedroom door and Juliet was confined within the four walls of her bedroom, Juliet dug her copy of Wuthering Heights from beneath her mattress and read those same words over and over again: “He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

The passion which passed between Cathy and Heathcliff only existed as words on yellowed paper. Juliet knew this, but she couldn’t help but feel like a knife had been plunged into her soul when she read about the devastation of their brutal longing. What it would feel like to share that connection with another human being, to wish the earth would swallow you whole so that you could remain forever with the one you love. Their hunger for each other was deadly, lethal.

Juliet knew that the love Cathy and Heathcliff shared could only exist in fiction, she was sure of it. A love like that could destroy someone. It didn’t exist in real life, especially in Juliet’s world.  

Reading Wuthering Heights by candlelight was a typical evening for Juliet. What wasn’t typical, however, was the tapping on her window.

Juliet froze, her hands stilled on the page she was reading and she slowly closed over her book. She waited and listened, sure that the noise she heard was really just the wind, nothing else.  

Another tap attacked her window and Juliet flew from her bed, almost tripping over the rug on her floor as she stumbled to the window and looked out. Her bedroom was on the second floor so her eyes dropped to the ground below for the source of the noise. A gasp left her lips when she saw who was waiting below with a bundle of stones in his hand: Ethan.  

Panic struck Juliet, fierce and hot. She whipped her head around, desperately listening for any sign that her father had heard the tapping or her hurried movements. When she turned around, Ethan was at her window. Juliet jumped back, signalling with her hands for Ethan to climb back down, tears burning in her eyes as her fear took over her whole body.  

Ethan used one hand to stabilise himself on the window ledge as he unlocked her window with the other. It was always locked from the outside, Juliet was not allowed access to fresh air.  

When the window was propped open by Ethan’s steady hands Juliet became paralysed with fear, there was no way her father hadn’t heard that. She glanced down at the radiator below the window and the chain which puddled on the floor, a phantom pain attacked her ankle as she remembered the feeling of the cold metal against her skin. She couldn’t go through that again so soon. Ethan had to leave.  

Her body kicked into action and she sprung forward, grabbing Ethan’s arms as he pulled himself through her window. Before she could beg him to leave, Ethan cradled her face within his warm hands, moving his fingers across her mouth to silence her protests.  

“He’s not here,” Ethan murmured, his mouth so close to her shocked eyes.  

Confusion must have been evident in her stare because Ethan clarified: “Your father, he’s not here. I spotted him at the mess hall only a couple minutes ago, he was giving a sermon.” His voice was slow and steady as he returned Juliet’s panicked glare with his reassuring smile.

Juliet’s eyelids closed, relief shuddering through her body. Ethan let go of her face and ran his hands down her shivering arms, tracing her elbows as he led her back over to her bed. They sat down together, Ethan’s leg pressed against her own.  

Juliet finally opened her eyes, nodding slowly as her heart slowed to a normal pace. She looked up at Ethan, noting the way his gaze roamed across her face.  

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, not fully trusting the idea that her father was not able to hear their conversation.  

“I had to see you,” he responded, his voice low. “I was so worried,” he added with a wince.  

“I’m fine, Ethan,” Juliet reassured him after a long pause.  

Ethan coughed out a cold laugh. “Fine,” he said mockingly, then turned away.  

“Nobody has seen you for days,” he continued. “Not after…” Ethan trailed off as he removed his arm from Juliet and wiped a hand down his face.  

“I know what happened,” Juliet snapped, then shook her head, regret churning in her stomach. She wasn’t angry at Ethan for bringing it up, it was just that she had spent the past several days locked within these four walls, desperately trying to forget the slap that her father had given her in front of a whole hall of people. A whole hall of people who did nothing but stand there in shock as Juliet was punished for taking another piece of bread from the table without asking her father for permission.  

Juliet reached down and rubbed her ankle without thinking, the redness had started to recede from her two day long extended punishment for ‘embarrassing’ her father in front of his followers, but it still stung.  

Ethan followed her movement with his wide eyes before glancing across at the chain beside the radiator. He went entirely still. Juliet closed her eyes, cursing herself for her stupidity.  

“What did he do to you?” Ethan asked and every word carved at another piece of Juliet’s remaining pride. She knew Ethan had already figured out her latest punishment, there was no point in denying it. So she responded with her usual silence. Ethan’s fists balled on his lap.  

Without warning Ethan turned back towards her, his arms latched on her shoulders as he turned her whole body towards his strong chest. Juliet’s chin tilted upwards and Ethan rested his forehead against hers, his hot breath mingling with her own.  

“We could leave right now,” he whispered against her mouth.  

A breath rushed from Juliet’s lips, the urge to agree with him, to grab his hand and run was overwhelming, her heart was thundering in her chest again. But this was not a fairytale, Ethan had promised her the same fantasy again and again but they both knew it was impossible. They both knew it was a pipe dream. Ethan was the son of another prominent man in their community, the only difference was that his father wasn’t a psychopath. Ethan’s father was the town’s doctor who was training Ethan to take over his practice one day. Ethan loved the work, he was born to save people, to heal wounds and soothe trauma.

Sometimes Juliet wondered if that was all Ethan saw when he looked at her: another broken thing to mend.  

Juliet shook her head in the tight space between them, her lips brushing Ethan’s. She didn’t need someone to save her, she didn’t need Ethan’s sorrow to mingle with her own.  

Juliet just needed a distraction.  

She moved forward, her chest pressing against Ethan’s as her lips crashed over his. She left no room for tenderness as her hands wrapped around his body and gripped the back of his t-shirt. Ethan responded immediately, his lips matching her brutal pace. Juliet could feel his heart hammering against her own. She parted her lips, her tongue met his and Ethan let out a shocked gasp, a moan rumbling in his chest.  

Juliet’s mind fell into a blissful numbness, a veil had dropped over the swirling mess that lived in her head. She could still feel the fear and regret but it was like her thoughts were floating around her in a dark muddy water, she could see them but she couldn’t get a good grip. Juliet barely felt Ethan’s lips on her own, she knew that her hands were running through his hair, clutching at the thick strands, but she felt nothing.  

Nothing was exactly what she wanted.  

Juliet felt her hand reach down and tug at Ethan’s belt and a second later he pulled away, his breathing rough as he gripped her hand, stilling her movements.  

“Juliet,” he breathed into her open mouth. “We need to slow down, I - I need you to slow down.”  

Juliet nodded and her gaze dropped to Ethan’s lap before she averted her eyes.  

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.  

Ethan laughed, reaching down to adjust his trousers. “Don’t be sorry,” he replied, his voice practically a growl. His stunned features twitched into warm amusement. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

Juliet rolled her eyes and looked away, her gaze fell on her worn copy of Wuthering Heights. She flinched. Brontë’s deathly romantic prose mocked her: “My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.” 

To Cathy, Heathcliff was the weight that dragged her soul back to earth, he grounded her in a passion so vicious it caused genuine pain.  

Juliet had just kissed Ethan and felt nothing at all.  

She knew she loved Ethan, their friendship was forged over years of stolen meetings and kind favours. But he wasn’t her Heathcliff, as much as he wanted to be. Ethan was the knight in shining armour. He was safe, he was easy to love. Juliet didn’t have to guess how he felt about her, she could feel it in every sad look he sent her way.  

Juliet’s heart was heavy as she lifted her faraway eyes to meet Ethan’s heated gaze. She forced a shy smile to slide across her face as her hand reached up and tugged Ethan’s chin down to meet her awaiting lips.  

Heathcliff was a dream anyways and Ethan was right in front of her, real and tangible. His body was warm and his lips were eager, Juliet’s eyes closed as the sweet numbness surrounded her once more. 

--------------------------------------

@ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @amyispxnk