#tommy told her this part of joel was long dead

[mariatesstruther]

okay but a version of events in which tommy takes ellie to the fireflies, but NEITHER of them come back. and maria joel have to work together to get them back

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up. 

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!’ He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click. 

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel. 

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly. 

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down - 

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her. 

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street. 

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’ 

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical. 

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains. 

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below. 

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done. 

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. 

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder. 

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes. 

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim. 

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck. 

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto. 

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something. 

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table. 

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it. 

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door. 

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual. 

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat. 

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’ 

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him. 

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you. 

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ‘Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

[justagalwhowrites]

I saw this video and I feel like something like this would be fun to read! I have to ask would you ever consider writing a kidnapper!Joel fic?

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Dfp6Na/

Hi Bestie!

So.... Yes :)

Not quite the vibe of the linked video but I hope you enjoy it!

Run Rabbit: Part One

It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS. Written as part of the @romana-after-dark Dead Dove December event (but posted late because it's impossible for me to make a deadline at the moment apparently.) This will be in two parts.

Relationship: Joel Miller x Female Reader X Tommy Miller

Warnings WHOLE FIC: DUBCON (reader is a captive, participation might be enthusiastic but consent is dubious under the circumstances.) Raider!Joel; Raider!Tommy; Captive reader; Canon-typical violence; graphic depictions of violence; graphic depictions of injury; attempted SA (not by Joel or Tommy); Dom/Sub dynamic but not an established relationship; Dom-ish Joel; Brat tamer-ish Joel; Sub-ish reader; DDDNE; M/F/M threesome; unprotected P in V sex; Anal sex; Oral sex; No use of Y/N; Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 8k

PLEASE NOTE: part one does not get smutty ❤️

Part 2

November, 2004

“You can have whatever you want, please!” 

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you tried to keep quiet from your place below the floorboards. Your boyfriend, Zach, had tucked you into the crawl space when he ran in from hunting with three men on his tail. 

“They don’t know about you,” he’d said, breathless. “Stay quiet, I’ll get us out of this.” 

But even a year into the apocalypse, Zach wasn’t a great shot. It wasn’t long before he was out matched and the men were breaking down the door to the cabin you’d been holed up in for a few days. 

“Seemed awful keen to protect whatever it is you got,” one of the men said. “How do we know you’re not gonna just come and try to take it back?” 

“Should just kill ‘em,” another man said. “Don’t gotta worry about it then.” 

“No, no, I swear I won’t,” Zach pleaded. 

“Prove it,” the final man spoke for the first time. “Got no reason to trust you now, why should we leave you alive?”

You kept your hands tight over your mouth, trying not to cry, trying to stay quiet, hoping they’d leave Zach alive. 

“Because I have something better than supplies!” He yelled it, his words flowing together as he stumbled over them. 

“Like?” The third man said. 

“My girlfriend,” Zach panted. Your breath caught. “She was a nurse before, in an ER, she can keep you alive, you can have her, please…” 

“And where is this girlfriend?” The first man said. “You seem awful alone here…” 

You hoped Zach was just buying time, that he wouldn’t actually tell these animals where you were. 

You were wrong. 

“In the closet,” he said. “There’s a crawl space there, I told her to hide there while I took care of things here. Please, she’s worth a lot, she’s good at patching you up, she’s real pretty, you can have her, you can have her…” 

The sound of his begging almost covered the thud of boots as you heard the closet door creak open and the floor over your head disappeared. 

“Well, would you look at that,” a large man with shaggy curls and a patchy beard - the first one who has spoken, you thought - smirked down at you. “He’s not full of shit.”

“No,” you shook your head, eyes wide. “No, please…” 

The man ignored you, grabbing a fistful of fabric at your chest and hefting you up from the crawl space with a grunt. He dropped you on the ground and you tried to scramble away only to have another man grab your shoulder and throw you down. You landed on your backside, a different tall, broad man with dark curls looming over you. 

“Where you think you’re running to, little rabbit?” He smirked, the second man who had spoken. You pulled yourself back from him, looking for a way out. The third man, blond and pale and the youngest of them, stood over Zach, a gun pointed at his head. He started humming Run, Rabbit, Run as he smiled at your boyfriend, glancing your way, prowling toward Zach. A predator enjoying his prey. 

“So,” the first man dropped your pack that had been in the crawl space next to you at your side with a thud, making you jump. “You really a nurse?” 

“She is,” Zach answered for you. “She is and you can have her, please…” 

“Zach!” Tears tightened your throat. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, not looking at you. “I’m sorry, but I can’t…” 

The man who pulled you from the crawl space sighed, pulling a handgun from his side, going up behind Zach and pressing the barrel to his head before pulling the trigger. Your scream hung in the air longer than the crack of the gun, the salty, metallic taste of Zach’s blood on your tongue as his body slumped to the ground. 

“Hey,” the man who shot Zach dropped to one knee in front of you, grabbing your face roughly, gripping your cheeks in his large hand. There was blood on him, too. “You really think that piece of shit is worth screamin’ and cryin’ over? He was sellin’ you, girl, he ain’t worth any grief of yours.” 

He released you and looked over his shoulder to the other dark haired man. 

“Tommy, got something we can hold her with?” The other man - Tommy, apparently - started going through his bag. He looked toward the blond next. “Vince, gather what you can, we’re heading out in 10. Made a lot of noise here, don’t want to wait and find out what that attracts.” 

“Are you going to kill me too?” You asked quietly. 

The man who seemed to be in charge cocked his head at you. 

“Now why would we go and do a thing like that?” He asked. “Your boyfriend might have been scum but he was right, you’re valuable cargo. You’re gonna be a good girl for us, right?” 

You weren’t really sure what to say to that, your heart beating so hard and fast you were sure this man could see your pulse in your throat. 

“Don’t really matter either way, does it?” He said as Tommy handed him some rope. “You either cooperate or you’re more trouble than you’re worth and we just kill you. Don’t make much difference to us. Hands out, wrists together.” 

You just looked at him and he sighed, pulling his sidearm out again and putting it below your chin. The muzzle was warm and wet from where he’d just killed Zach and, for a moment, you thought you were going to vomit. 

“Didn’t I just say I’d kill you if you got to be more trouble than you’re worth?” He said. “You’re already a lot of trouble by bein’ and extra mouth to feed so I recommend cooperating before my temper runs out. So. Hands out, wrists together.” 

You obeyed and the man wrapped your wrists in rope tight enough that you had no hope of wriggling out but not so tight that it was painful, just uncomfortable. He wrapped his large hand around the cluster of rope between your wrists and yanked you to your feet. 

“Got anything on you I should be worried about?” He asked. “Be a lot easier on you if you tell me now than later.” 

“Knife,” you said, voice shaky. “Right pocket.” 

“Good girl.” 

He reached into your pocket and pulled the weapon free, opening and examining the blade. 

“Know how to use this?” He asked, brows raised. 

“I’ve used it,” you replied. He nodded and closed it, putting it in his pocket. 

“Be a good enough girl for a long enough time and maybe you can get it back,” he said before turning to Tommy. “I’m gettin’ a head start with this one, heading north west, back to site. You know the way.” 

“I know it,” he said. “We’ll clear out quick, catch up soon.” 

The man who had you grabbed your pack from the floor and slung it over his shoulder before bringing his rifle around to his front, nudging you forward with the muzzle. 

“Let’s go,” he said. “Try and take off and I’ll shoot ya. And I don’t miss.” 

The man kept close to you, nudging you along in front of him and you tried not to trip on roots and overgrown brush but you’d only been walking about 20 minutes when you failed, falling with a pained grunt. The man sighed and grabbed you by the collar, pulling you to your feet. 

“You OK?” He asked, gun pointed at the ground and not at you. 

“Yes,” you said, even though your hands were scraped up and your knees hurt and you had your boyfriend’s blood on your skin and your throat hurt from screaming.

“Keep movin’,” he ordered. 

You kept looking back over your shoulder at him. He reminded you of a guy you dated once who was in the army. He never looked in one place too long, head constantly turning, looking, searching. There were threats, he knew that. He also knew how to see them coming. The gun was tilted toward the ground but close and ready. You were waiting for him to change his mind about you, to shoot you, too. Part of you wondered if this was part of a game for him, if he was going to walk with you just long enough to lull you into a false sense of security before shooting you. Maybe he liked the fear, the surprise. Maybe he’d given too much away by killing Zach and now he couldn’t get what he wanted from you. 

Maybe that was better than the alternative.

You were only walking about an hour when the other men, Tommy and Vince, caught up to you. The man you were with turned and pointed the gun, noticing their approach before you did. You froze, only realizing that it was probably a good time to run now that his attention was elsewhere once it was too late. 

“Just us, Joel,” Tommy called as they climbed up the hill you’d just made it up yourselves. “No trouble behind us.” 

The man - Joel, apparently - lowered the rifle and the men joined you. They had four packs between the two of them, two you didn’t recognize and two backpacking bags that you recognized as yours and Zach’s. Your stomach turned. 

“Not a terrible haul,” Tommy said. “These two had decent gear and must have just taken somethin’ good. A lot of jerky, good stock of ammo, some medical shit.” 

Joel looked down at you, his eyebrows raised. 

“You know how to use the shit in those bags?” He asked. You just looked back at him. He sighed and grabbed a fist full of your hair, jerking you close to him, making you squeak in shock. “Don’t play dumb, girl, you know how to use that shit?” 

“No,” you said sarcastically, not sure where the guts for that came from. “I enjoy hauling around shit I can’t do anything with.” 

Joel’s jaw tensed and you weren’t sure if he was about to yell or laugh. 

“Not gonna get far with an attitude like that, little rabbit,” Tommy said, but he was smirking a little. “Lot better for you if you just answer the questions when we ask ‘em.” 

You looked between the two men closest to you for a moment. You wondered if they were related. Their eyes were the same, same hair, too. They would have been handsome in another context, one where you weren’t afraid they were about to kill you. 

“It’s mine,” you said after a moment. “We were backpacking when the outbreak happened, we didn’t even know for a day or two, we were in the middle of the mountains and there weren’t other people around. I know how to use it all.” 

Joel released you. 

“Good to know you ain’t completely useless,” he said. 

“You mean outside the fact that I can save your life?” You bit out. Again, you weren’t sure why. 

He snorted. 

“Outside of that. Keep movin’.” 

With the other men there, Tommy took the lead and you followed, Vince and Joel behind you. You could feel Vince’s eyes on you, the cold, lecherous feeling of his gaze making your stomach churn. 

Night was starting to fall by the time you reached a cabin that showed greater signs of people than you’d seen in what felt like forever. There was a stack of wood on the front porch, a line between the house and a tree that looked like it was meant for drying clothes, barrels placed to gather rain water. You stopped, staring at the small structure. 

“Inside,” Joel said after a moment. 

“I have to pee.” 

He sighed. 

“Vince,” he said. “Take her to piss. Don’t fuckin’ touch her unless she tries to run, got it?” 

Vince groaned but nudged you off to the side of the house with the muzzle of his gun. You looked around, trying to get a lay of the land, see what a good route out might be. There was a small path that looked like it would take you deeper into the woods, eventually up into the Smokies. That was fine. If you could get your pack, you could survive out there for at least a week or two on your own, maybe find a settlement or something. You’d never had to survive on your own, you’d never hunted or shot a human being. Zach had handled that. You weren’t sure how long you could really make it on your own but you’d rather give that a shot than leave yourself to whatever these men had in store for you. 

“Here’s good,” Vince said after two minutes of walking. You held out your wrists and he raised his eyebrows. “You think I’m a fucking idiot?” 

“I can’t really pull my pants down like this,” you said. “I’m not a man, I can’t just whip my dick out…” 

He stomped over to you and unbutton and unzipped your jeans before yanking them down to your knees, ignoring your surprised sound before going back to your hips. His fingers trailed over your skin, sinking into the meat of your ass and making your stomach churn, before he pulled your panties down, too. You could feel his eyes on you, lingering on you, before he stood up. 

“There,” he said. “Happy?” 

He walked a few steps away and turned back to look at you. 

“I can’t go with you watching.” 

He shrugged. 

“Not my problem. You have to go bad enough, you’ll go.” 

You glared at him and held his gaze before squatting and peeing, missing toilet paper and privacy more than you had since the damn outbreak started. You straightened up when you were done and stood there, still looking at him. 

“Afraid you’ll have to come pull up my pants, too,” you said. “Since your boss apparently wants you to wait on me hand and foot.” 

A muscle in the man’s neck twitched but he stalked over and yanked your clothes back up, harshly buttoning and zipping your jeans before shoving you back toward the cabin hard enough that you stumbled. 

Inside, Joel and Tommy were sitting at a rustic table, a fire going in the nearby fireplace. There were two Nalgene bottles of water on the table and a bag of jerky between them. The jerky you recognized. You and Zach had made it just a few days earlier. 

You tried not to think about it. 

“He behave himself?” Joel asked, stretched out with his legs far in front of him. 

“You’re really gonna take this little cunt’s word over mine?” Vince asked. 

Joel just kept looking at you, ignoring him entirely. 

“Asked you a question girl,” he said. “He keep his hands to himself?” 

You glanced at Vince who was staring down Joel, his blue eyes hot and angry. You looked back to Joel. 

“He was fine,” you said. 

“Good,” Joel said, getting up, grabbing a bottle of water and going over to you. He put one of his huge hands on your shoulder, guiding you to the nearby couch and nudging you down onto it. 

You obeyed his unspoken command, lowering yourself slowly down but not relaxing into the cushion, staying on the edge of it. 

“Open,” he ordered. 

Your eyes narrowed. He glared back. 

“Open your mouth,” he said when you didn’t obey. 

“You put your dick in my mouth I’ll bite it clean off.”

Joel squared his jaw and held up the bottle of water. 

“Don’t got a smaller bottle right now and you can’t hold this with your hands tied. Don’t want you droppin’ dead from dehydration after we went through all the trouble to get you here so open your goddamn mouth.” 

You ground your teeth for a moment before you obeyed. He unscrewed the top and poured the water on your tongue, crisp and cool and making you aware of just how thirsty you’d become in the few hours you’d been with him. 

“Good girl,” he said. “Was that so hard?” 

Eventually, he stopped and you closed your mouth, wiping your lips on the back of your tied hands as he closed the bottle. 

“Don’t gotta worry about that shit from us,” he said. “Prefer when a woman begs for it, not about to take it from one who ain’t.” 

“Because I can trust what a group of murderers says,” you snapped. 

“Murderers,” Joel shrugged. “Not rapists. Hungry?” 

“Why?” You asked, tongue still sharp. “Going to be kind enough to give me scraps of the food you stole from me?” 

“Something like that,” Joel said. “If you’re gonna try to starve yourself to death, just let me know. Save you the trouble and put you down quick instead.” 

You watched him for a moment. For some reason, you trusted what he was saying to you. That he wasn’t going to hurt you - at least, not like that. That he was intending to keep you alive. 

“Not hungry,” you said eventually. 

Joel shrugged. 

“If you change your mind.” 

You sat on the edge of the couch cushion as the men took inventory of what they stole from you, what they killed Zach to take. You tried not to cry. 

It’s not like you’d been especially close to Zach when the outbreak happened. You hadn’t said “I love you” yet, you’d been dating for a month and a half and fucking for just a few weeks of that. 

The backpacking trip had been a spur of the moment thing for both of you. You had some vacation time to burn before the end of the quarter, his job was flexible and you’d bonded over a shared love of the outdoors. You’d ignored the words of caution from your girlfriends when he wanted to take you hiking for a second date, the two of you ending up exhausted but proud as you came to the end of the seven mile trail he’d selected. He kissed you there for the first time, his lips salty with trail mix and sweat and a view of a valley swelling with shades of green spread out below you. 

You were somewhere in the mountains when the world collapsed. You didn’t even know it had happened until you returned to where you’d parked your car to find the windows smashed and the inside looted, a body missing a chunk of its skull not far away. You’d ran to it on instinct, dropping to your knees beside them to check their pulse even though it was clear that there was no way they would be alive. Their skin was cold and there were fibrous, vine-like tendrils swarming in their brain. 

It had been you and Zach from there. He was more of a survivalist than you. He knew how to hunt and trap, taught you how to skin a rabbit and process a deer. You weren’t sure if you’d truly come to love him or not, if the feeling you had for him was just what happened when you went about surviving the end of the world with another person and became dependent on them for your very life. 

But you were certain that he hadn’t loved you. Not really. If he had, he never would have given you over to these men. 

You’d never have done that to him.

Maybe you did love him. You weren’t sure you’d ever know. 

“Sleep here,” Joel ordered as the day fully shifted to night and Tommy and Vince started readying for bed. “I’m keepin’ watch for now. We were gone long enough, some dumbasses might think they can move in. Don’t try anything.” 

He went onto the porch and you stretched out on the couch, the other men going into what you expected were bedrooms at the back of the cabin. Your hands were still bound. You stared at the dying embers of the fire, the orange glow, and cried. 

***

Joel needed Vince to stop acting like a shit head. 

The man didn’t seem to understand the position he was in. He was the least valuable person here. He was young, he was dumb and he was disposable. 

He just didn’t seem to realize it. If he kept looking at you like you were something he could take, he’d find out just how disposable he was.

Joel came in from his watch about 5 a.m. to find you whimpering quietly on the couch. He sighed. 

“You really still crying over that jackass you were with?” He asked as you sniffled quietly. 

“Shut up,” your voice was thick and wet. 

“He ain’t worth it,” he said gently, sitting in the armchair that was near where your head was. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering. But then, he’d never really taken a captive before. He usually just killed people or turned them loose. You were valuable enough to keep and sending you out into the wilderness alone seemed crueler than holding onto you. He just had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to do with you now. “He didn’t know who the fuck we were or what the fuck we’d do with you - lot worse out there than us, little girl - and he handed you over on a silver fuckin’ platter. More than happy to trade your pain for his sorry life.” 

“He’s the only person left that I knew,” you said softly. It was the first truly genuine thing Joel had heard you say. Except, maybe, when you asked if he was going to kill you. “I’m alone now.” 

“Not alone, little girl,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he was reassuring you. He shouldn’t care. “You’re better off.” 

“Why do you call me that?” You asked, lifting your head ever so slightly from the arm of the couch to look at him. “I’m not a little girl…” 

“Little compared to me,” he said. 

You scoffed and sniffed at the same time. 

“You’re a giant,” you said. “Everyone is little compared to you. Don’t see you calling Vinny there little boy…” 

Joel laughed a bit. 

“Maybe I should. And you’re a girl.” 

“I’m a woman,” you said, a spark of defiance in your tone. “I don’t think I’m much younger than you, if I am at all.” 

Joel frowned a bit at that. 

“How old are you?” He asked after a moment. 

You thought for a second, like you were doing the math. Which was fair. It’s not like he’d celebrated his last birthday, either, his stomach twisting at the thought. He had to think about it, too. 

“I’m 33,” you said. “How old are you?” 

He was surprised. Not that you looked terribly young, now that he thought about it. More that human faces lacked much definition to him anymore. Anyone older than a teenager looked about the same until they started going gray. You just seemed younger. 

“I’m 37,” he said. 

“Yeah, I’m not a girl,” you said, putting your head back down. 

“You could tell me your name,” he said. 

You scoffed. 

“Then I’m not sure what I’m supposed to call you, little girl,” he said. He could feel you glare at him. 

“I had a whole life before,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Joel. “I had a house and a job and friends and I used to go to dinner and to concerts and buy the people I loved presents. I had a life before.” 

He realized then why he’d thought you were younger. You were, possibly, the most human person he’d come across in a year. Some small spark of divine mortality - the juxtaposition of life and a kind of death that was still possible - there in your eyes that didn’t exist in others. It seemed naive, in a way. Made you seem younger than you were. But he wasn’t sure that was it. Maybe you weren’t naive. Maybe part of you was just clinging to your humanity harder than anyone else left. 

“We all did,” he said, voice harsher than he’d really meant it to be. There was part of him that wanted to snap that tie in you. It was unfair that you got to keep it when he didn’t. But it was a kindness, too. You’d survive better without it. “You move on. Go to sleep.” 

He went to the room he shared with Tommy who was unconscious, sprawled out on the bed and snoring. Joel took the sleeping bag on the floor and stared at the ceiling, trying to make himself not listen for the sound of you crying in the next room. 

Things were surprisingly smooth with you for the next two days. Vince was a fucking idiot and got a nasty cut on his arm that you tended to, giving him stitches while he leered at you and Joel ground his teeth. 

He felt better with you tied. Your wrists, at the very least, but during the day when the men were coming and going, Joel bound you to a chair at the table. 

“Comfortable?” He asked the first time he did it. 

“No,” you spat, face scrunched in anger that was so fierce it was almost cute. If Joel even found things cute anymore. “I’m not.” 

“You gonna lose a hand from me cuttin’ off your circulation?” He asked instead. You just glared at him. “Good. Stay put, like a good girl.” 

“I hate you,” you seethed at him. 

Joel shrugged. 

“That’s fine,” he said. “Don’t gotta like me to keep me alive, do ya?” 

He went outside to gather wood. 

By the third night, you were yawning and looked barely conscious before the sun had even set. Joel frowned. 

“I keep telling you to sleep,” he said. “You ignoring me for fun or you think exhausting yourself is good for your health?” 

“I’d love to sleep,” you snapped. “But something about having my wrists bound keeps me up at night. Maybe it’s the discomfort, maybe it’s the looming threat of death, who can say?” 

Joel pulled Tommy and Vince aside after dinner, the men standing in the dirt outside the cabin, snow starting to drift down. 

“She hasn’t tried to hurt anyone yet,” Tommy shrugged. “Don’t think she’s gonna go far if she gets away and doesn’t seem like the kind to kill us in our sleep.” 

“Don’t like it,” Vince said, glaring at the cabin for a moment before looking back at Joel. “Can’t trust her as far as we can throw her…” 

“No one said shit about trust,” Joel cut him off. “But we can’t keep ‘er tied up forever.” 

“Fine,” Vince shrugged. “We can put her to use then kill her. Won’t need to tie her up then.” 

Joel could hear the blood in his ears. 

“Suggest that one more time, little boy, and see how long you last,” he straightened up as he said it, the full six inches he had on the younger man all the more apparent then. “You want to do that kind of shit, find someone else to run with.” 

“Fuck, sorry,” he raised his arms in a moment of surrender before crossing them again. “Just don’t come crying to me when she slits your fucking throat.” 

“Can’t cry if she kills me, can I?” Joel said, stomping back toward the house, pushing past Vince on the way. 

You were still bound to the chair. He wordlessly unwound the rope and you relaxed your elbows, stretching your arms as best you could with your wrists still tied. 

“Hands up,” he said. You frowned, just looking at him. “You heard me, you want me to untie you or not? Hands up.” 

You practically flung your wrists at him and he tried not to laugh at you as he loosened the knot and pulled the rope from your wrists. 

The second you were free, you rolled your shoulders and closed your eyes, groaning at the feeling of it. 

“God that’s good,” you moaned before you started flexing your fingers and rotating your wrists before you glared up at him again. “What? You try being tied up for days, see how you deal with it.” 

“Rather not,” Joel said, winding up the rope. “Better be a good girl, don’t try anything stupid.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said as you spread your arms wide and sighed. Joel found himself smiling a little for the first time in he didn’t know how long. He stopped himself. 

“Actually get some sleep,” he said, voice gruff. “No good to us exhausted.” 

He left you alone, taking the bed in he and Tommy’s room that night and Tommy taking the floor. It took effort to not listen for you moving in the front room as he drifted off. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was asleep when Tommy shook him awake. 

“Joel,” he said urgently. “She’s gone.” 

***

Absolutely none of this was ideal. 

You were exhausted, the only thing keeping you upright the adrenaline that ran through your whole body. You didn’t have supplies, your pack and all its valuable contents in the bedrooms of the men. You were stuck running through snow, leaving a clear path to follow until the woods got dense enough that the snow hadn’t piled up much. 

But you had to go, you had to go now, now, now, right now. You couldn’t spend another night there like that, not when you had the option to get away, not when you had the use of your arms back. 

Your body wouldn’t let you sleep, even for an hour or two, even just for a night to try to make a break for it tomorrow. The second Joel had freed your hands it was like you could feel every part of your body in sharp, acute detail. Every frayed nerve, every thrumming vein, every peaked hair was stark and clear. You couldn’t relax enough to sleep. You had an opening, a chance. You had to take it, you had to. 

You didn’t even have your knife. 

But you had your body and you knew how to push yourself over long distances in the mountains. You’d been good at it before, too. You’d hiked most of your life, knowing how to get yourself to make it to the top of the next ridge even when your calves were burning and your lungs felt on the verge of collapse you knew you could make it. 

All you had to do was do that now, through all the exhaustion and all the panic, and put as much distance between yourself and those men as possible. 

You’d find some way to keep yourself alive eventually. There’d be supplies or a settlement. Something. You were sure of that. 

Mostly. 

Your breath rose in a cloud in front of you and you broke away from the trail into the brush of the woods, thankful that the moon was bright enough that you could have some sense of where you were going. 

You were just starting to relax a little when you heard it behind you. A sharp, shrill whistle. You froze. 

“Come on out, little rabbit,” Tommy called. “Not gonna hurt you…” 

“Shit,” you whispered as you panted for breath. They sounded pretty far away but they’d catch up eventually. 

You scrambled through the forest until you reached a cluster of ferns that was thick and full and you ducked into it. If you stayed quiet and still, they’d walk right past you. You could stay put for a while and then find your way from there. Simple. 

You tried to not shake from cold and fear as you heard the signs of the men getting close. There was the crunch of sticks, the rustle of leaves and the eerie sound of Vince humming Run, Rabbit, Run. The glare of a flashlight trickled between the ferns and you held your breath, the humming getting louder. 

For a second, a glorious second, you thought you were in the clear. Vince had passed your hiding spot, poking through the brush closest to the trail with his rifle but you were just far enough off the trail that he missed you, and you relaxed. 

Then you heard the snap of a twig. 

“Found you.” 

You spun, Vince turning the flashlight on and shining it in your face, all but blinding you. You threw up a hand instinctively to protect your eyes and he grabbed your wrist, yanking you out of your hiding spot and almost pulling your arm out of its socket in the process. 

You yelped in pain, you couldn’t help it, and he all but threw you onto the trail. Your eyes were still adjusting to the light but it took you a moment to realize that he had his gun trained on you. 

“Knew you’d take off on us,” he said, panting a little. You put your hands up and looked for a way out. “Knew you’d be more trouble than you’re worth…” 

You backed away from him, more on instinct than anything else, not able to watch where you were going and you shrieked as you tripped and fell back, landing hard and barely catching yourself before your head smacked into the rock of the path. You rose up on your hands quickly, scrambling back from him as best you could but he was standing, could see where he was going. You didn’t have a hope. 

“Please,” you whispered. “Please just… just let me go, you already have my supplies and…” 

“Can’t let you go with you knowing where we are,” he replied. “And you were already more trouble than you’re worth in my opinion…” 

“I stitched up your arm,” you said, tears stinging at your eyes. “I helped you…” 

“And those two idiots won’t even let me fuck you,” he cut you off. “What good is pussy you can’t fuck, hm?” 

“Please,” you said again. 

“That’s not an answer,” he prowled closer, the muzzle of his rifle so close you could almost touch it. Your heart was in your throat. “Think I’ll just kill you, bet that pretty head of yours would make all kinds of nice colors when I blow it off…” 

“Hey!” Tommy snapped, his gun up and pointed at Vince. “Know you’re not threatenin’ to kill her, not when we all agreed to keep her alive.” 

“You agreed,” Vince snapped. “You and your asshole brother, not me.” 

“That asshole has been keepin’ your sorry ass alive,” Joel growled from behind you. Your head whipped around to see him there, looming large over you. His gun was up, too, pointed at Vince. “You need us a whole hell of a lot more than we need you. You can do what I fuckin’ say or you can move on. But you keep pointing that gun at her and you ain’t gonna have much to move on with.” 

The three of them stood there for a moment, Vince aiming at you, Joel and Tommy aiming at him. Your heart felt like it was going to break your ribs it was beating so hard. 

Vince lowered his gun. Tommy did the same but Joel left his up. 

“Joel,” Vince said but Joel cut him off. 

“Don’t like men who don’t listen,” he said. “Not worth shit to me if you can’t take orders. Said you could join me and my brother if you did what you were told.” 

“I told you she’d run!” Vince snapped. 

“Don’t give a shit,” Joel said. “You think nurses pop up every five fuckin’ feet? She’s valuable. To us and to people we come across. Worth a little trouble. Worth a whole hell of a lot more trouble than you. Know your goddamn place.” 

He lowered his gun and looked down to you. 

“You alright, little girl?” 

You were too shaken to fight the nickname. Instead, you just nodded. 

“Good.” 

He slung his rifle on his back and reached down, yanking you sharply to your feet, the movement so rough it shocked you. Once you were on your feet, he grabbed you by your chin, his callused fingers harsh on your cheeks, and pulled your face close, so close that you’d expect him to kiss you if he were your lover. 

But he wasn’t that. He was your captor. 

“Thought I told you not to try anything stupid,” he asked, his face almost eerily calm but his tone on the edge of anger. “You seem smart enough to know better, give you an inch and you decide to take a mile. Several, in fact. Maybe Vince is right, maybe we should kill you…” 

“Joel,” Tommy said cautiously but Joel threw him a glare and he quieted. 

“You really think you can do better than us out there? Hm?” He demanded. “You think you can survive all on your lonesome?” 

“No,” you said, fighting to not cry. You hated that you reacted this way, that when you were scared or mad your first instinct was to cry. “But I could find…” 

“Find what?” He cut you off. “Find someone else who’s willin’ to stick their necks out for you? Willing to feed you, shelter you without takin’ more from you?” 

He released your chin and you slumped back from him, massaging your face and working your jaw, trying to right it. 

“You’re damn lucky to be with us, little girl,” he snapped. “Real damn lucky. Better start actin’ like it instead of running off like some scared little rabbit. Hands out.” 

“But…” 

“No,” he shook his head firmly. “You lost the privilege of using your fuckin’ hands without my permission. Hands. Out.” 

You obeyed, arms trembling, and he bound your wrists together, the ropes finding the same indentations they’d made on your skin before. He dropped your wrists once they were bound and you looked at him as you still fought to not cry. His eyes met yours, sharp and cold. 

“You’re mine now,” he said harshly. “Sooner you figure that out, the easier this gets for you. Move.” 

The walk back to the cabin felt long and, when you got there, you went to lay on the couch but Joel stopped you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, shrugging out of his coat. 

You frowned. 

“Going to sleep…”

“Not there you’re not,” he said. “You’re sleepin’ with me, you don’t get to be unsupervised anymore.” 

Your eyes went wide and you shook your head. 

“No, no, please, you said you weren’t…” 

“Wasn’t offerin’ to fuck you, girl,” he cut you off. “You’re sleeping where I can fucking see you so get in my bed.” 

Your whole body shook as he nudged you to one of the back rooms. You hadn’t been in one of these before. You had no idea how to try to escape if you needed to. It was stupid of you, you realized now, to trust Joel when he said they might be murderers but they weren’t rapists. Just because they hadn’t forced themselves on you yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t now. 

The room wasn’t huge, a queen sized bed in the middle and a sleeping bag on the floor. There was a door - to a closet, you assumed - and a dresser with some picture frames on top. 

“Shoes off,” Joel said. 

“Please,” you said softly. “Please don’t do this, I…” 

“Didn’t I say I wasn’t offering to fuck you?” He asked, sounding exasperated. “I don’t want you tracking dirt into the goddamn bed. Shoes off, get in on that side, one by the dresser. I’ll keep my hands to myself if you will.”

You obeyed and curled as tightly in on yourself as you could, facing away from him. You felt the bed dip as he climbed in, the heat of his body close to yours. But he didn’t touch you. 

“Actually sleep,” Joel muttered after a moment. 

You glanced over your shoulder at him. He was flat on his back, eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest. The opposite of someone who looked like they were about to grope you the second you passed out. 

Still, you rolled to face him, curled tightly on yourself, and watched him until his body loosened and his breaths evened. Tommy snored lightly from the sleeping bag on the floor. You weren’t sure if their unconscious state made it feel safe enough to rest or your body gave out from exhaustion but, the next thing you knew, it was morning and you were alone. 

You sat up slowly, hands still bound, an unfamiliar blanket draped over you that hadn’t been the night before. 

You made your way slowly, cautiously, to the main part of the small house. The men were talking in low voices around the kitchen table and you hovered for a moment, not sure if you wanted them to notice you or not. 

But Tommy was the first to see you there, a slow smile spreading over his face. 

“Well hey there little rabbit,” he took a sip from a mug. “You look rested.” 

“Probably wore herself out taking off,” Vince muttered. 

“Gonna be just you and me today,” Tommy said, ignoring Vince’s comments. “Those two are headin’ out to do some business.” 

“Business?” You asked, brows raised. “Is that code for murder?” 

“Our business is none of yours, little girl,” Joel said, drinking from a mug of his own. “You stay here, behave yourself, and maybe we’ll bring you something back.” 

“Rather not get anything that comes from killing,” you said. “Thanks though.” 

Joel just rolled his eyes and shoved back from the table. 

“You’ll take what I give you and you’ll like it,” he said, coming to stand in front of you. He put two fingers below your chin and tilted it, forcing you too look him in the eye. “Gonna take off on me again? Or do I need to tie your legs up, too?” 

You gritted your teeth. 

“No.”

“Good girl.” 

Tommy helped you use the bathroom and you sat on the couch with jerky and sore wrists and resentment as you watched Joel and Vince get ready to head out to do… whatever it was they were about to go and do. 

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do to pass the time. You’d had some books in your bags but you weren’t about to risk pissing off the men for a little entertainment. 

But Tommy didn’t let you sit in silence for too long, flopping down next to you on the couch as you tried to find patterns in the peeling paint of he wall. You looked at him, cagey. He smiled. 

“You’re cute when you sleep.” 

You frowned. 

“What?” 

“You’re cute when you sleep,” he said again. “All curled up and shit, just like a little rabbit.” 

You shrank back from him and he put his hands up. 

“Not gonna touch you,” he said. “Unless you wanted me to.” 

“Well… I don’t.”

He shrugged. 

“Didn’t expect you would,” he said. 

He was quiet again for a few minutes before he spoke again, a gleam in his eye when he did. 

“Wouldn’t happen to play poker, would you?”

You didn’t but he seemed happy enough to teach you. But you couldn’t hold the cards well with your wrists bound and, after a few minutes of struggling, Tommy glanced toward the door like he was half expecting Joel to walk through it. 

“Gimme those,” he said, holding his hands out. You thrust your wrists at him faster than you were proud of and he laughed a little, taking hold of you gently. He paused before starting at the rope. “You’re not gonna take off on me, right, little rabbit?” 

“Not at the moment,” you said. 

“Good,” he replied, untying you. “Not a fan of keepin’ you all tied up anyway…” 

You turned your wrists, the bones popping as you luxuriated in the movement. 

“Thank you,” you said, massaging one wrist and then the other. 

He shrugged. 

“The game is Texas Hold ‘Em,” he said, dealing. “We’ll play a few hands open and then see how you do…” 

It was oddly easy to forget that you were being held captive when playing cards with Tommy. He was lighter than the other men, more like people you remembered from before, making easy going conversation about things that hadn’t mattered in more than a year. 

“I’m still mad that I didn’t get to see the second Matrix,” you said, watching as Tommy put the flop on the table. 

“That, darlin’, was a blessing,” he replied. “Wasn’t nearly as good as the first.” 

“I heard that, but still,” you said, looking at the seven of clubs, three of hearts and king of clubs on the table and trying not to smile at the seven of spades and king of hearts in your hand. “I think it might have been better than I heard. And maybe it would have made more sense when the third one came out…” 

“Maybe,” Tommy said, putting the turn on the table. Ace of diamonds, no good for you. “But I dunno, you seem too smart to like something that shitty.” 

“Bold assumption,” you smiled a little and he smiled back. 

“Before I put the river card out,” he said. “How about we make this interesting?” 

“Interesting,” you frowned. “Interesting how?” 

“I win, you tell me something about yourself,” he said. “You win, I’ll give you something you want. Can’t be a weapon but something else.” 

You looked at him, brows raised. 

“C’mon, little rabbit,” he gave you a cocky smirk. “Let’s have some fun.” 

You looked at your hand again. 

“Alright,” you smiled a little. “Let’s do it.” 

The river was the king of spades and you tried not to smile too wide. 

“Alright,” he said, looking like he was holding back a grin himself. “I’ll show you mine then you show me yours.” 

You shrugged and he smiled as he put the king of diamonds and the three of spades on the table. 

“Full house,” he said. “Kings over threes.” 

“Damn,” you sighed. “I just have the kings…” you lowered the card, looking disappointed and enjoyed Tommy’s excited expression for half a second before you put the second card on the table. “Oh, and the sevens. Sevens are higher than threes, right? I mean, I only went to nursing school, I can’t be sure…” 

“You little shit,” Tommy laughed. “You’ve got a damn fine poker face on you! Alright, what is it you want?” 

“My books,” you said immediately. “I had two, I think, in my pack. I’d like them. Please.” 

“I can get you the books,” he smiled. “You sit tight.” 

He brought you the books and you played another hand with the same stakes. And another. And another. And more after that.

You got some hair ties and clean socks out of the deal. Tommy got to know your favorite food and what you liked to watch on TV back when there was TV. 

After a while, he looked at the books that you’d set aside on the table. He picked up the top one, Slaughterhouse Five. 

“Think this was on my reading list in high school,” he said, looking over the back of it. “Never actually read it though.” 

“It’s good,” you said. “You missed out.” 

“Read it to me,” he said, holding it out to you. 

“Read it to you?” You asked, brows raised. “What are you, five?” 

“Never much enjoyed reading,” he shrugged, still holding the book out. “But I like listening. Like listening to you well enough. C’mon, little rabbit. Tell me a story.” 

You considered him for a moment. You felt oddly safe with Tommy. You weren’t sure if it was because he was showing you kindness and one of the only three people left in the world you knew now or if he was actually safe. You weren’t sure you could trust anything you were thinking and feeling. 

But reading to him didn’t sound bad. 

“Can we move to the couch?” You asked. 

He laughed. 

“Think we can manage it.” 

You settled on the couch, you folded into a corner and Tommy stretched out. He watched you closely as you opened the book. 

“All this happened, more or less…” 

You fell asleep on the couch before Joel and Vince made it back but you woke up in he bed, Tommy snoring next to you. 

Part 2

A/N: Hey yeah so... this was supposed to be a one shot but it got away from me. So now it's two parts. Part two up sometime within the next week or so ❤️

[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

Clingy Baby masterlist

[bluebeary-jay]

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

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

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

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

Word count: 7.5K

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

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

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

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

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

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

“And where did they take him?”

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

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

“Okay. I’m going.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now you planned on doing just that.

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

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

“I’m coming with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart stopped in your chest.

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

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

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t consider any other option.

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

And paused.

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

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

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

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

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

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three, two…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel…

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

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

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

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

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

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

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

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

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

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

And again.

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

She immediately stopped moving.

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

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

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

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

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

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

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

Should be.

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

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

“No.”

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

“Why… did you take him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

What the hell happened?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

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

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

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

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

Because of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gracieheartspedro]

I Can See You

fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

Hi friends! It's been awhile (:

I am back to writing! This time, I'm planning on having many parts to this story. It's a DBF Joel Miller story, which I love to read, which means I had to write it, right?

I wrote this with no Y/N, instead each character gives her a nickname/pet name.

So here's Part 1, I really hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: DBF! Joel, age gap-ish (reader is 25, Joel is 39), eventual smut, joel being a little bit of a perv, reader not having a filter, alcohol consumption

“Mornin’,” His Southern accent was even deeper than usual. My head peaks up from behind my computer, noticing his very tired eyes. The bags under his eyes still somehow did him justice. 

“Mornin’ Joel,” I mutter before taking a sip of my coffee. I watch as he finds his way towards my bosses office. He was only my boss at work, but at home he was just Dad. 

I watch his ass move in his jeans, shamelessly. 

Finding your coworker hot is one thing, it’s another when it’s also your dad’s friend and he was about 20 years older than you. 

I’ve thought Joel Miller was quite the looker since I was about 18. I had just started working for my dad. I was mainly just scheduling and doing work orders. Joel took me out to a work site one day, on my father’s request. He wanted me to get know some of the people who would be scheduling work from us. I got to sit around with the property manager of an apartment complex in a tight black dress in the dead of summer, watching guys replace windows. While outside that day, Joel worked alongside some of the laborers, his tanned skin and shaggy dark hair glistening with sweat. Something about him doing manual labor turned me on. Something awoke in me that day, and ever since then, I thirst over him in silence. 

I catch myself looking a bit too long, quickly averting my eyes to my computer screen. I act like I am typing something, glancing over to Joel and my dad walking out of his office together. They are discussing another project that Joel was overseeing that would keep him very busy in the upcoming months. 

“My girl here will be starting back at college in the fall, so she will only be part time for awhile,” My dad says, drawing attention to me. 

“Oh really, where ya going?” 

I blank out completely for a moment.

“UT Austin,” I finally answer.

“Smart girl, you living on campus?”

“Nope, just getting my master’s in Engineering so living from home makes the most sense.”

Joel shakes his head, “Master’s. Didn’t you just graduate high school?”

“I’m 25, Joel.”

His eyes scan me for a moment, realizing I’m much older than he remembers. 

“Ha,” He grumbles, “Time flies huh, Steve?”

“Sure does, you just wait for that Sarah of yours is off to college,” My dad laughs, slapping Joel’s shoulder. I wince, realizing again he has a young daughter. It wasn’t ideal, to say the least. 

“We got about 5 years on that,” Joel says, his eyes returning to mine, “Well it’ll be nice havin’ you around during our busy season.”

“Happy to help,” I reply, not really meaning it. 

“Hey, Joel, you and Sarah making an appearance at our BBQ this weekend? We invited the whole neighborhood and I can’t remember if you told me you’d be there.”

His eyes are still on me, “Yeah, I’ll be there,” his eyes return to my dad’s, “Just me and Tommy though, Sarah is goin’ over to a friend’s house.”

“Can’t wait!” My dad cheers, “Baby girl, can you make sure my schedule is cleared Friday evening so I don’t have to worry about when I can get the meat?”

“Of course, dad,” I grit my teeth, “I’m on it.”

-

“Hey baby girl, can you go grab me some extra plates?” 

My dad was over the top with his BBQs to say the very least. The whole neighborhood was in on it. Steaks, burgers, hot dogs, chicken, the whole thing. I spent all morning getting the huge backyard and cabana ready for all our visitors. We usually had someone come over to do all the setting up, but Dad made sure to remind me that I was living rent free and being paid on his payroll, so setting up was the least I could do. 

People littered the pool and backyard. I weave between people, giving smiles and welcomes where I could.

I walk in to the kitchen, the cold AC air hitting my bare arms. Luckily, I was wearing shorts over my bikini shorts, or else the goose bumps would be up and down my legs, too. I begin searching the cabinets for the large serving plates you always used for big gatherings. Leaning down, my triangle bikini top almost lets my boobs loose. I sit up straight, messing with the knots on my back. I knew tightening it could only help so much.

“Need help?” I almost jump out of my skin. I turn quickly, spotting Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with me.

“Shit, you fucking scared me,” I breathe loudly, patting my chest to make my heart stop racing, “I think I can get it.”

“Mhm,” He sticks a tooth pick between his teeth, “Lemme help, girl.”

God he was so fine. I hated myself for having a crush on him. But the domestic and simple gray t-shirt that hugged his arms so well and the blue jeans? I simply could not resist staring. 

No chance in hell. But I got to look at him every day and imagine it. 

I turn on my heels, holding the ties out to him so he could tie them. 

“I need them tighter,” I mutter, “Don’t want these puppies falling out in front of the Adlers.”

“Don’t want to excite Mr. Adler too much, he may have himself a heart attack.”

I smile to myself, biting my lip. He ties it, his fingers grazing my bare back slightly. 

“All good now, girl,” I turn to face him, looking up at him through my eyelashes, “Now what were you lookin’ for?”

“Serving plates,” I explain, “Dad is finishing up those steaks, needs more space.”

“Well let’s get ‘em and head out to all the fun,” He says, ducking down to the cabinet I was looking in originally. He finds them, handing them up to me. He looks so good looking up at me from this angle. 

“You want to grab us some beers,” I suggest, “I’ll meet you out there?”

“Your dad runnin’ low?”

“Probably, so grab three.”

–

“So, you going to be here all summer?”

I had no interest in talking to Tommy, but he was keeping me from toeing the line with Joel in my drunken state, so here I am. I sit in my lounger chair, wanting so bad to take off my jean shorts. I knew if I did, Tommy would take it as I’m making a pass, so I sweat extra. 

“I’m starting college in August, so yeah I’ll be around the office and staying home.”

He smiles, “Good to hear, love seeing you around.”

I smile back faking a cheery laugh, “Thanks, Tommy… care to grab me another beer?”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

I watch him walk away before searching the crowd for Joel. I spot him across the yard, talking to one of the newer neighbors. A single mom who moved in two months ago. My dad kept joking the other night that he’d be making her my stepmom, which only made me gag. She was beautiful, younger than my dad, but just about Joel’s age. 

A pang of jealousy rises within me. 

Joel finally catches my wandering eyes. He smiles gently, giving me a nod.

“Here, darling,” Tommy says sweetly, “Need anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” Your brother, “Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, ‘s up?”

I sit up, leaning over making my boobs hang right in his eye line. 

If I couldn’t keep one Miller’s attention, maybe I could snag second best. My beer filled brain thinks about how they are cut from the same cloth, so they both are probably good at this. 

“Do you want to help me change a lightbulb?”

He raises his eyebrows, “I guess, where at?”

I smirk, “My bedroom.”

We sneak away, my eyes scanning the area. It didn’t appear as anyone was following us. My room was the last room on the left upstairs, so the anticipation as I guided him down the hallway was killing me.

Ever since Joel grazed my back earlier, I’ve been ready. So fucking ready. 

“Are we actually changing a lightbulb?”

I open my door for him, gesturing to him to follow me in.

In the dim light, Tommy was very cute. He was a sweet guy and I knew he’d be the first to jump on my idea. 

“You tell me,” I say, starting to untie the knot Joel tied. In my moment of trying to be sexy, I realize Joel tied the stupidest and hardest knot ever. Tommy notices my struggle, reaching around me, frantically trying to get the top off.

As it gets loose, I reach up to grab his neck.

“What the fuck is going on ‘ere?” 

His voice freezes me. Tommy looks towards the door in horror.

“Joel-“

“Tommy, you fucking know better,” His voice is so intimidating and scary, I cant even muster the courage to turn around, “Git.”

Tommy gives me eyes saying I’m so sorry, and I just stare blankly at my wall. I hear Tommy’s foot steps run down the stairs. I realize how drunk I am because my wall paper begins to move on it’s own. It doesn’t usually do that. 

“Now you,” His stride towards me is quick, “I’m not your Dad, but don’t think he’d like you fucking his employees.”

Maybe it was the liquid courage, “Who said I was trying to fuck him?”

I snap my head towards his stern and impossible to read face.

“Bullshit,” He spits, “He got through my knot, he assumed somethin’ was about to happen.”

“Well, even if that’s where it went, why are you putting your nose in our business?”

He chuckles darkly, “So now it’s ours, huh? I have you know, girl, Tommy’s business is my business. And you’re just makin’ my job hard.”

I tiptoe closer to him, “And what’s your job, again, Mr. Miller?”

“Make sure people are behavin’ themselves.”

I realize what he’s doing. My tipsy mind took a second to search his face for more, but I can't read him at all. 

“I’m behaving, Mr. Miller. I promise,” I reach up, touching his jaw, “No more funny business.”

It was the closest I had ever got to him. I felt a rush just touching him.

“Good, get your top back on and come down to the party. Your dad is looking for you.”

I look down at myself as he leaves the room. My fucking tits are out, and he didn’t even look down.

The game he was playing was not the same one I was playing.

–

The next morning, I have a pounding headache and no drive to leave my room. I was embarrassed and horrified. I knew I would have to face Joel and Tommy on Monday morning, so I had to make amends beforehand. I really didn’t want them to tell my dad and I was pretty out of line for trying to fuck Tommy when Joel wasn't giving me the attention my drunk ass thought I deserved.

After spending hours in bed, rolling back and forth thinking of a script to say, I figured that honesty is the best policy. 

Well, honesty with a little bend in the truth. 

I get showered and dressed. My usual summer time outfit was a crop top and short shorts, but today I needed to be more… conservative. 

I find a nice summery dress, that went to midthigh. It was yellow, not a lot cleavage, floral. Innocent. 

When I get downstairs, my dad sits in the living room, his feet propped up watching the news. 

“Where ya going, baby girl?” 

“I’m going for a walk,” I lie. 

“Wearing that?”

“Yes,” I nod quickly, “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

He shakes his head, “No, have fun, I guess.”

I could tell he was suspicious, but he wasn’t one to pester me too much. He had high expectations for me, but I always exceeded them. He never questioned me too much, unless it was about school. He didn’t even really care about my love life. He always got excited when I told him I was going on dates in college. I mean, I rather him be excited than bother me about the guys I was seeing.

I start my journey to Joel’s. I didn’t even know if he was home or not, I was going on blind faith.

It was hot as shit and I was not fully prepared to walk to his house in a dress and sandals. 

I could’ve just driven there and back. But no, I decided to roast in the hot summer sun.

–

When I arrive to his house, I just kind of stand in his driveway, catching my breath. He was home, his truck was here. 

I walk to the front door, knocking first then ringing the door bell. 

It takes about minute, but he gets the door. 

And he’s shirtless. 

It was the worst and best moment of my entire life. 

“What are you doing here?”

And it’s not quite the response I was anticipating when I arrived at his door. 

“I uh-,” I hear some stirring inside the house, which causes me to peak my head past Joel’s shoulder. 

I see movement, but my eyes find Joel’s again before I could focus in on it. He pushes me back a bit, coming outside and shutting the door behind him. 

“I came to apologize, but you seem busy.”

He shakes his head, “Not busy, just woke up.”

“With someone?”

What the fuck? Why can’t I shut my mouth?

“Pardon me?”

“Well I walked this whole way to apologize about my inappropriate behavior yesterday,” I explain, “But yeah, that’s it.”

The door creaks open and I am wholeheartedly anticipating a hot MILF or something. But instead, it’s a little girl. 

“Sarah, get inside!”

“Oh hi, I know you!”

I smile at the girl. She was cute, I had to admit. She looked a bit like Joel, mainly the smile. A smile I wasn’t too familiar with, because he wasn’t too keen on my jokes. Ever.

“Yeah, I work with your dad,” I explain, “Nice to see you, Sarah.”

“You too, do you want to have lunch with us?”

“Sarah she can’t st-” 

“I’d love to, only if your dad says it’s okay.”

He got himself in a pickle, but I was aching to have a conversation that didn’t involve me putting my foot in my mouth like I almost did again. Plus, some food and water would help the heatstroke I felt coming on.

He stares at me, almost like he wished I’d disappear, “Of course, come in. Sarah is making sandwiches.”

“I hope you like turkey and cheese!”

—

“Thanks for the sandwich, Sarah,” I say, wiping my face making sure I didn’t have mustard left over.

She smiles with her mouth full, “You’re welcome!”

“Hey Sarah, why don’t you go get ready for swim practice,” He suggests, “Me and your new best friend need to have an adult conversation.”

She looks up at him annoyed, “I guess, but don’t scare her away. She has a cool pool I want to swim in.”

I laugh out loud, “Yeah, don’t scare me away, Joel.”

He doesn’t laugh, he just looks at me with his lazer eyes. I just wish Sarah a farewell and shut my mouth, waiting for the storm. He stirs, eating another bite of his sandwich. 

“So you came to apologize, huh?”

I swallow, “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry for my inappropriate behavior. I had one too many yesterday.”

He nods, “Yeah you were practically falling out of that top of yours before you took Tommy upstairs. Surprised you didn’t have it off before then.”

My eyes widen, “Well that’s humiliating.”

“Don’t think anyone was particularly mad about it,” He says, “Maybe one of those neighborhood watch moms, but who cares about ‘em?”

I can’t help but smirk. Was he insinuating that he wasn’t mad about almost seeing my boobs?

“Yeah, they always give me the most disgusted looks when I’m out jogging.”

“Cause’ they miss bein’ young and beautiful,” He explains, “All their husbands stare, too.”

I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this, I find myself leaning in a bit to try to talk quieter. It seems like this is conversation we should be whispering to each other.

“Do you stare?”

Foot. In. Mouth. 

He smirks, giggling a bit. I finally got to see him smile.

“Of course, I do.”

----

Hehehehe tell me what you think! I'll be back with part 2 soon!

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - deleted scene: "hey, sister"

you know you never stood a chance series

deleted scene: hey, sister

series masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 4.6k

Summary: you and joel try to patch things up with ellie before the baby comes. this takes place before the epilogue but I recommend reading the epilogue first!

Note: posting this now as part of Moth & Birdee's Mother's Day Fic Challenge! This is the final deleted scene for the series. (also if the first bit seems familiar, I posted a snippet during febuwhump).

Warnings: established relationship, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2 but no one goes golfing, terrible communication, makeup sex instead of communicating, p in v, two idiots at the end of the world, fluff, brief Tommy & Maria cameos, baby used as a plot device, vague descriptions of childbirth (nothing graphic in any way), vague depictions of breastfeeding, pregnancy, postpartum depression, family trouble, joel and ellie aren't speaking, estranged family dynamics

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Joel has the nerve to look sheepish when you storm into the house, door smacking against the drywall. You fumble when you try to grab for the edge of it, eventually grasping and slamming it closed.

“You lied to me,” you said, low and dangerous, heart thrumming with all you’ve been told. You clasp at your chest for a moment, sure that your hand will come back red. 

You let the accusation hang, daring him to grab it and throw it aside. 

But he doesn’t. He can’t. He knows he’s been flayed and left open to burn. 

“I lied to everybody,” he says after minutes have crept by. 

“You lied to me,” you snarl. The corner of your lip jerks, an involuntary sneer. You’d trained yourself to do it in the dingy mirror of your first Boston apartment, holding the other side down until you looked as nasty and tough as the rest of them. 

It worked. It was just a twitch now, unstoppable, popping up when you needed it, whether or not you wanted it. 

Oh, but you do right now. You want it. You want him to see the way you’re rethinking this whole fucking situation.

“I had to,” he says. 

“Oh, fuck off. I trusted you.” 

“I never asked ya to,” he snaps. There he goes. There’s the Joel you know and thought you loved. 

The fight slips from your fists, unfurling and folding over your chest instead. “You’re right. You didn’t.” 

He doesn’t stop you when you go upstairs, but oh, does he wish he had when you come back down a few minutes later. His brain almost doesn’t put it together; the sight of your backpack straps so incongruous with your life here in Jackson.

“What—” he starts, but you don’t let him finish.

“Don’t. I’ll come back by in a few days. And you can think about if it was fuckin’ worth it, Joel.” 

“Worth it to save her life?”

“For fucks sake, Joel, I’m not mad you did it! Jesus, is that what you think of me?” 

You had been trying to keep quiet before, but that’s dead and buried. He raises his voice to match.

“How the hell am I supposed to know what you’re thinkin’?”

“You’re supposed to talk to me, Joel! You’re supposed to tell me shit. You tell me when there’s chili at the hall, you tell me when Tommy has a stomachache, but you can’t fuckin’ tell me how close it came? Can’t tell me what you had to do to save that girl? To bring her home?” 

It’s too late. He’s shut down; you can see it. “I ain’t sorry. About any of it,” he says, and it’s clear and crisp, but you feel like it filters in from across town, something too distant to be sure what you heard. 

But you know. 

“Figure out if it was worth it to lose both of us,” you snarl before you can stop. And it does exactly what you meant it to. It whips across his face like a snowball packed with ice. 

His own sneer twitches to meet yours. You think you might burst if you stay there too long, held perfectly still between him and the door. Might spill more words you don’t want to watch him hear, might throw and shatter the vase on the foyer table, might break down into tears. 

Part of you wants to break, to give in, to try to pull the confession from him and pray he didn’t mean it. That he wants you to trust him. That he is sorry.

But you leave, and when you hear the door slam after you’re down the road, you don’t turn back.

You don’t cry until he opens the door, brows knitted together in confusion.

“What’re you doin’ here this late?”

But your lip trembles. “Tommy—” you start, and it breaks into a crackling, shaky breath. “Did you know?”

Tommy pulls you in for a hug. “Shit,” he says quietly. “No. Just this morning, too. C’mon."

You’re reading in bed when you hear them. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. She seemed awfully upset, and I think she’s already asleep.” Tommy’s voice carries easily up the stairs. He’s not a quiet kind of man. 

“Jus’ let me talk to her for a minute,” Joel says. 

You hold your place in the book with a finger shut between the pages, waiting to see who wins this round. It’s a toss-up, really, for who’ll crack. They’re both stubborn as all hell. 

“I mean it, Joel,” Tommy says firmly but kindly. “She was cryin’ all evening and she just finally fell asleep.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel says. “Fine.”

You hear the slow creak of the door and heave a shaky sigh, unable to tell the difference between the relief and disappointment. 

He had come looking for you. You hadn’t expected that, not really. 

But of course, you don’t get to go Miller-free for the night. Tommy knocks shortly after. 

“Hey,” he gives a weak half-smile. “So, how much of that did you hear?”

“All of it,” you admit. 

“He seemed pretty upset,” Tommy says. He sits on the edge of the bed. 

“Good,” you mutter, scowling. 

“I just—look, I don’t want you to think I’m pickin’ teams. But y’all worked hard for what you’ve got. It’d be a shame if ya walked away from it.”

You sigh and lean back against the headboard. “I know. But he really hurt me this time. I trusted him.”

Tommy sighs. “I hear ya. I didn’t know, either. He really didn’t tell anybody. I think he was plannin’ on takin’ it to the grave.”

You know, because you know Joel. You know he didn’t want to put you in a hard place between him and Ellie. Didn’t want to ask you to shoulder his decision. And you know you’re going to forgive him. Maybe not today. But it’s already settling in your bones.

Joel meets you in the foyer. He must have heard you coming up the porch. You slip in and shut the door before just… standing there.  Just as you had three days ago. 

“Sweetheart,” Joel starts, and with it, takes all your resolve. 

You sniffle. 

“Don’t cry,” he pleads, but it just tips the tears over the crest of your eyes anyway. 

You let him fold you into his arms, one hand cupping the back of your head to hold you against his chest. Your fingers twine into the soft green flannel, the lingering cinnamon and wood smoke as soothing as ever. 

But as soon as you’ve pulled it together, you extract yourself. “We’re going to have to talk about it,” you say to the button on his breast pocket. 

He tilts your chin up with two curled fingers. “I know. You gotta promise you’re gonna hear me out this time.”

You nod and before you can speak, he’s kissing you, one hand soft against your cheek.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, ya hear me?” he murmurs against your lips. “Don’t run away.”

“Don’t you do that to me again,” you retort, but there’s little fire behind it as you lean up to kiss him again.

He’s sweet from the honey he puts in your tea. He always tastes it before he gives it to you. 

“Hang on, how’d you know I was coming home?”

He grimaces. “Didn’t.”

“But—“

“Shut up.” It’s not sharp, but embarrassed. His cheeks are a little flushed.

You can’t help the fond smile. “What a sap you are, Miller.”

He kisses you again, unable to stay parted for long. “M’serious,” he murmurs. “Don’t run away. Y’can be mad at me all you want, but do it here.”

“I am mad,” you say quietly.

“I know,” he says, pulling your head against his chest and holding it there under his wide palm. “I deserve it.”

“Yeah,” you nod, but there’s no heat behind it. “You’re an ass.” 

“M’your ass.”

“No, this is my ass,” you wiggle a little. 

“Now see, that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” he gives it a hard smack, squeezing with his wide palm. “This is all mine. Said so yourself.” 

It’s as if you blew out a candle, the way his eyes have gone dark and encompassing. You can’t help but moan a little, and his lips quirk up at the corner. 

“Right?” he prompts, backing you over to the couch. 

“Uh-huh,” you squeak as he lies you down, tugging your sweatpants down as he goes. 

His fingers slide down and cup over your cunt, pushing your body close between his legs. “And this greedy little pussy is mine.” He wastes no time in pressing inside you, giving you no room or breath to adjust to his cock.

His hand slides back up to brush along the side of your breast. “Pretty tits just for me,” he murmurs in your ear, tweaking a nipple to hear you whine. His voice has gone low and rich, his Texas twang a little thicker. 

His thumb rests on your lower lip. “Perfect, eager mouth.” He pulls his thumb away right as you try to suck on it and replaces it with his lips, tongue dipping in to taste you. 

“Hmm? Anyone home?” he taunts. 

The sound you make is more like a strangled balloon than an actual word, and he chuckles. 

“See? I know what you need, sweetheart. All of you is mine,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling out torturously slow and pressing back in until your hips are flush. 

“Fuck, Joel, please,” you whine. You want to be mad that he’s distracted you from being mad, but, well… it’s working. 

The thick emotions of it all don’t leave so easily. Your throat is clogged with it, his breath is heavy with it, and the way he works at your clit is an apology on repeat.

Until it isn’t anymore. Until it’s less “I’m sorry” and more desperation. You’re writhing a little beneath him, the ache at a breaking point, pleading for him to push you over the edge he’s brought you to again and again and again.

“No,” he pants. “Not until you promise. Promise you won’t leave.”

“I’m not,” you nearly sob. “Joel.”

It’s the way you cry his name. He can’t keep pushing you; he pulls all the way out and drops to his knees on the living room floor, burying his face in your cunt with all the fervor he’s been fucking into you.

He goes straight for your clit, three fingers in your cunt, and wrings you dry over and over before he relents and plunges his cock back in you to the hilt, setting a punishing pace, though you aren’t sure which one of you is being punished by it.

Maybe both, but in reality, neither, since he comes deep inside you moments later.

It’s not the first time, but it is rare for him to slip up that way. Still, you think nothing of it, given how low the chances are. 

Lulu is born in the peak of July. It’s hotter than hell and you’re glad that Ellie had gone with the other kids on the trip to the lake. It had been the reason you stayed behind, originally planning to go along with Maria and Alé. 

Joel hadn’t wanted you to go at all. It wasn’t far and even though you weren’t due for another month, he didn’t like it. 

The due date was kind of made up, though. It was really up to you and Joel counting on your fingers to see if you remembered the last time you had a period. 

Not that your period was very consistent to begin with.

His eyebrows had climbed higher and higher as you went back a week at a time to see if either of you could associate an event with it, like if he had fucked you in the ass for a few days or something. 

He had, but really, that wasn’t a great predictor, since he was still coming home from patrol riled up the way he used to in Boston. For the sake of your poor, well-loved cunt, you mixed it up a lot. 

You waited another four weeks before going to see Alice at the clinic. 

After she confirmed what you frankly already knew, you tried to talk to Ellie. 

The first time you visited the shed, you almost chickened out, rocking back and forth on your heels while you waited outside. She cracked the door open, mouth twisted until she saw you. 

“Hey!” She gave you a hug, and you held her as long as she allowed (which wasn’t long; she was a teenager, after all). “Wanna come in?”

“Sure, kiddo, I’d love to see what you’ve done with the place.”

She beams and lets you in, shutting the door behind her to keep out the late autumn breeze. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting. You had feared something bare and cold, where she’d be lonely all winter. But the space is all Ellie. You look over, and she’s clearly bracing herself for your judgment.

“This is so cool,” you tell her, and she lights up. You drink in her toothy, genuine grin, and decide this is not the time. 

“You think so?” she says.

“Kiddo, I would have killed to have a place like this when I was your age. I had a treehouse, but that was nothing compared to this. Where’d you get all this stuff?”

“I traded around town for it; you know I’ve been—” and she stops, smile gone. “Well. I guess you don’t know. I’ve been doing some jobs after school in exchange for cool stuff.”

She’s guarded again, maybe expecting you to tell her off or nag at her for not telling you.

“That’s great, kiddo. That was a clever idea. What kind of stuff have you been doing?” 

You end up on the couch while she sits on her bed across the room. You don’t think the space is intentional, but you don’t want to cross it in case it is. 

She tells you about babysitting and cleaning, helping other residents with their jobs in the gardens and the stables. She shows you some of her prizes as she goes, gushing over a thick astronomy textbook. It’s beyond your knowledge level, but she’s clearly been devouring every word. Its real value, she says, is that it was printed in 2003 for some college. But the textbooks they had in the QZ were from 2001. 

“Did you know that after we discovered all the moons the other planets have—like did you know Jupiter has fifty moons? They told us it was 38—and then people were getting confused about our moon being the moon, so they started calling it Luna in all these research papers. It's all so fucking cool.”

“That’s incredible, Ell. I’m so proud of you.” 

It’s the wrong thing to say. Sometimes, you forget she’s still a teenager. 

“Yeah, it’s whatever,” she says, shifting uncomfortably. “Did you need something?”

“No. Just wanted to see you,” you lie. 

It’s the wrong thing again. 

“Did Joel make you come here?”

“He doesn’t even know I’m here.” That, at least, is the truth. 

“Okay,” she says. 

“I—” you start, not knowing what you’re going to say, but hoping your runaway tongue will do patchwork here. But she doesn’t let you get that far.

“Hey, so, I was actually going out when you got here, so.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry to have kept you.” You believe her about as much as she believed you a minute ago, but you’re not going to push. You get up, and she lets you give her a hug, but it’s not returned very enthusiastically this time. “It was nice to see you, kiddo.”

“Yeah, um, see you later.” 

When she shuts the door behind you, it feels uncomfortably final.

You don’t try again for another month, when you have the excuse of Christmas to give you gumption. 

When you knock, she’s slow to open. Her face is unreadable, and she crosses her arms over her chest. 

“What?” she says. 

You nearly shove the bundle in your arms at her. “Merry Christmas. I know it’s early, but it’s supposed to be real cold this week, and—”

Anything else you were about to word vomit catches in your throat while she opens the gift. You’re terrified she’ll reject it, reject you. You’ve been working on it for a while. Since before the fight, even, worried about her in that damn shed all winter.

This quilt is patchwork blues, different shades and patterns. Over top you’ve cut out and stitched the galaxy together for her. It’s maybe childish, but you don’t think she ever had a chance for many childish things. And it’s not nice, not like the ones they used to sell at Pottery Barn when you were a kid that your parents could never afford. 

“You made this for me?” she says. 

“Yeah, kiddo, of course. Sorry it’s not quite accurate, I—”

Her hug knocks the breath from you for a moment, but you hold her to you and try not to cry. It doesn’t last long, and you can see the way her conflicting feelings are making her uncomfortable. But she surprises you.

“Wanna come in?” she says.

“Oh, um. Maybe later, I’m-um, I’m on my way to dinner at Tommy’s. Do you, um. Do you want to come with us?”

The scowl is back. “You mean with you and Joel.” His name was a dirty word spat from her mouth. 

“Well, yeah. We miss you, kiddo. I miss having everybody together.”

“He put you up to this.” It’s harsh and she knows it, sees the way you blink against the offense. 

“I’m capable of doing things of my own accord. Is it so hard to believe that I want to see you?” 

“Sorry,” she mumbles. 

“S’ok,” you say glumly. “I knew it was a long shot, I just—“ and you’re mortified to find tears burning at your waterlines, “just thought I’d ask anyway. M’sorry.” You had intended to ask, and Joel knew. You just wanted to tell her so badly. 

You hug again before you leave, but you have to hide in the half bath when you get to Tommy and Maria’s to weep. 

Joel slips in after a few minutes. He wraps you up in his arms while you try to smother the sounds of your broken heart. 

“I know, darlin’,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You tell Tommy and Maria after dinner. Tommy picks you up and swings you around in a hug, which makes Alé giggle. 

You go home first, exhausted. Joel tries to insist on going with you, but you know he needs some time with Tommy. As much as he’s trying to share Sarah with you, this is a whole different rodeo. 

The light is on in the shed when you get home. You hover on the porch, wobbling between your split instincts. In the end, you go to bed. 

Winter passes quietly. The layers help keep your secret, but you know it’ll be harder come spring. When Maria tells you that Ellie stopped by to wish Alé an early happy birthday because she wasn’t coming to the party, you cracked again. 

You pound on the door of the shed. She answers, guarded as always, and clearly surprised to find you there.

“Can I come in?” you blurt.

“Sure, yeah,” she says, and though she hesitates, she steps back to let you through. 

It’s not a frigid day, as you head into spring, but you stay layered up in your winter gear. Your bump isn’t big by any means, but it’s unmistakably there. It could be passed off as weight gain, but Ellie isn’t stupid, and you aren’t about to insult her by pretending. 

“Alé’s going to miss you at her party.” 

Ellie shuts the door of the shed, but hovers there, arms crossed. “She’s turning three. She won’t remember.”

“You’re her family; you should be there.”

“You want her to see us fighting?”

“Ellie, please. Just come over, come have dinner. We can talk. All three of us.”

“No,” she snaps. “If all you’re going to do when you come over is try to get me to talk to Joel, stop coming.”

“I just want our family together.”

“I’m not coming over there to get lectured and have you do nothing but side with him like always. You’re too damn scared of him leaving again that you never side with me. Guess what? I can leave, too. Get out.” 

“No, Ellie—”

“Just get out.”

“It’s not about him, just please give us a chance—”

She opens the door and stands there, not looking at you. 

You hesitate when you reach her, but she flinches back, so you just go home.

When Lulu is born, the sun rages at the apex of the horizon. Joel sends one of the neighbors for Alice, and busies himself getting everything ready while you pace the length of the upstairs hall and breathe through the pain. 

He’s filling the tub when he finds you with your elbows against the wall, head down, and teeth gritted. In an instant, he’s at your side, rubbing his hand over your lower back. 

“I’ve got you, darlin’,” he says, as he always does. “What do you need?”

“Just you,” you whimper. “Need you with me.” 

“Okay, sweetheart, I got ya.”

It’s far too soon to push, but he helps you into the tub anyway, hoping the cool water will help since you’re flushed and sweaty. He climbs in behind you, perched on the edge with arms wrapping around the top of your chest above your breasts. His lips press up and down your neck, and he takes a rag to wipe the sweat from your face. 

That’s how Alice finds you, and she nods at Joel approvingly before telling you she’ll be in and out to check on you. 

Between contractions, you slump back against Joel. Alice dropped water bottles off and he coaxes you to sip while you can. 

When the time comes, you’re exhausted. You can tell Alice is worried that you won’t have the strength. 

Joel isn’t, though. “You’re tough,” he murmurs. “You just hold onto me and do what you need to do.” 

It hurts. There’s no way around that. You push back against his chest, arching and screaming while he holds you tight. When each break comes, it’s too short. Your head flops back onto his shoulder, and he wipes you down with the cold rag again.

“You’re doing great. Fuckin’ incredible. Just a little more, baby, I promise.”

After, Joel helps you stand on shaking legs just long enough to get dry. Once you’re safely seated on the bed, feeling absolutely ridiculous in what was more or less a heavily lined cloth diaper, he helped you into one of his flannels, leaving it unbuttoned so you could nurse the baby. 

The day is a blur. You’re not sure what time she was born and you’re not sure how long it is before Tommy shows up. You’ve been mostly asleep, rousing when Alice brings the baby in to eat. She’s an absolute miracle, watching over little Luna while you and Joel sleep. 

“Getting rest today is critical to your success in the coming weeks,” she had said. 

You sleep even better once Tommy’s there. Maria stayed back with Alé, just for today. They were coming over first thing in the morning at your insistence. But Tommy came to help with the baby and stay the night once Alice went home, as you had done for them. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Alice. But knowing Tommy had Luna made you feel safer than anyone, other than you and Joel. 

You might have slept better still if not for the specters haunting the room. 

The next time you wake, the sun has set. You can hear her cries from downstairs, and sure enough, Tommy brings her in moments later. 

“Look, Lulu, your mama is up and ready for you.”

You take her into your arms and get her latched before it registers. “What did you call her?”

“Lulu! Ain’t it sweet?”

No, you think, but he has his biggest, dopiest grin on. You settle on a noncommittal hum, which you would regret later when he takes it as enthusiasm. 

You go to say something, but it dies when it finally clicks that you’re alone in the bed. 

“Where’s Joel?” 

“He, uh—”

“Tommy.”

“He went to try to talk to Ellie. They all just got back.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, I tried to stop him—”

“No, it’s okay,” you say, closing your eyes tight for a moment. When you gently cradle Luna against your shoulder to burp her, you take a deep breath against her tiny, downy head. “He should. It’s good.”

“He didn’t need to leave you alone. I told him to wait until she got back.”

“I’m glad he didn’t. She deserves to know right away. Hell, we both tried to tell her before, but…” 

The silence sits like the river in the winter—a thin, false calm on the surface. After you latch Luna on the other side and get settled, Tommy sits on the bed beside you and lets you rest your head on his shoulder. 

That’s how Joel finds you when he gets back. Luna’s gone back to sleep, cradled in your arms, and Tommy’s thrown his arm around your shoulder while you cry. 

“It’s normal,” he had said. “That’s what Alice told us after Alé was born. Baby blues, she called ‘em. And I think you got a real reason to be sad, anyway.” 

You look up, blinking away stray tears, when Joel comes in the room. The look on his face tells you everything you need to know. 

“She took one look at me and took off with Dina. I tried to call out and tell her it was real important, but she wasn’t hearin’ it,” he says once he’s crossed the room to you. He presses a kiss to you and Luna’s foreheads. 

“What about me?” Tommy grumbles playfully, and Joel gives him a little kiss, too.

They both laugh. You wish you could. You think you would have. It’s right there, sitting at the bottom of your diaphragm. But it doesn’t rise, doesn’t bubble up. Instead, it goes cold and sinks down where you can’t reach. 

Joel and Tommy exchange a look. 

“What?” you say.

Joel just shakes his head and lifts Luna from your arms to place her in the crib. “Let’s get some sleep, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be just across the hall,” Tommy says, tipping his head and shutting the door quietly behind him. 

Joel slips under the covers and wraps you up in his arms. It eases a heavy sigh from your lungs, one that trembles on the air in its own wake. 

He kisses your head and tucks you in close, trailing off into soft snores. But you can’t follow. Your heavy eyes blink slow, that brief darkness the only barrier between your gaze and the crib.

Your chest is tight. It’s like icicles are forming inside your lungs. It’s a testament to how tired Joel is that he doesn’t wake when you slip out of his grasp. 

The soft knit socks from Mrs. Davies muffle your shuffle across the floor. You tug the throw pillow and crocheted blanket from the armchair. The crib sits low to the ground, so you lower yourself beside it, wrapped in the itchy pastel, and watch the rise and fall of her little chest. 

You don’t sleep.

*title from "Hey Brother" by Avicii

[morning-star-joy]

can the killer in me tame the fire in you?

a stranger's heart without a home chapter 10

Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: Joel and Tommy set out on a rescue mission to bring you back home. In your moment of need, Joel comforts you and takes care of your injuries.

Chapter Warnings (Buckle Up): 18+ Explicit Descriptions of Canon-Typical Violence, Classic Miller Interrogation method from the games/show (Explicit Descriptions of Torture, please don’t read if it makes you uncomfortable), Descriptions of Torture against Reader, Heavier mentions of Loss/Grief (mentions of death of Reader's younger sister) and Depression/PTSD/Survivor's Guilt, Injury Treatment (knife wound), Language

Wordcount: 12.8k

chapter 1 || chapter 9 || chapter 10 || masterlist

ao3 link

Joel hadn’t felt like this for months. He hadn’t been so on edge, so ready to head into battle since returning to Jackson. Life in the settlement had been easy so far, peaceful even. He had almost let himself begin to believe that things could be as close to an old sense of normal as they could be in this sickened world.

But nothing good could last. Part of him had known this deep down the whole time, and he couldn’t help but think that he was proven right during the entire ride that he, Tommy and Jesse had made at a breakneck pace to the neighborhood where the teenager’s patrol had gone so wrong.

The dead body of a bandit rolled over as Joel nudged it with his foot. He glanced over the bullet wound in their head that had killed them; long range, expertly placed. One of her shots.

Tommy sighed heavily as he descended the staircase of the house they were sweeping, shaking his head when Joel looked up at him.

“Anybody still alive is long gone,” he informed with no small amount of exasperation, his hands raising and flexing before he lowered them, and Joel knew Tommy was resisting the automatic reflex to run them through his hair in worry. 

His younger brother was desperately trying to hold himself together even now, even with the debilitating fear for his friend’s life that just kept building.

“She took out quite a few,” Joel muttered, glancing over the other bodies that littered just the first floor of the house they were in, the one Jesse had led them to and told them it’s where they were confronted.

“She was covering me,” the boy spoke up from where he loitered by the door, his voice shaky as he clutched to the makeshift bandage Tommy had wrapped around the spot where a bullet had grazed his shoulder. “She told me to run. I…I should have stayed. I should have—”

“You did the right thing, kid,” Tommy interrupted, even as anxiety permeated from his bones with every movement he made throughout the rooms, looking over the bodies as if they would give some hint as to where they had taken her. “If you didn’t get out of here, you’d both be gone. We might have—”

He cut himself off, his hand coming up to cover his face as a deep breath was sucked in through his mouth.

“She’s fine,” Tommy muttered, dropping his hand as he shook his head sharply, but Joel got the distinct feeling that his brother wasn’t talking to anybody but himself now. “She’s fine. She wouldn’t go down like this.”

“We didn’t find her,” Joel spoke up, bringing Tommy’s scattered attention back to him. “That’s a good sign.”

Tommy inhaled sharply again, nodding his head once at the encouragement, even with the words that Joel left unsaid.

We didn’t find her body. The underlying meaning of the sentiment spoke volumes; it meant that it was possible she was still alive, and Joel steeled his nerves as he followed his brother towards the exit.

“What should we do—”

“Get down,” Joel cut off Jesse's question with a hiss as he grabbed the teen, pulling him back to hide against a half-wall as another, unfamiliar voice echoed through an open window from down the street.

“Jesus, how many guys can one bitch take out?” the voice said, and Joel stiffened as he slowly reached towards a broken table leg on the ground near him, the wooden edge sharp from where it had splintered off of the furniture.

Tommy quickly ducked behind a couch on the opposite side of the room, out of sight of the main door as Joel caught his eye, the two men communicating silently as another voice replied to the first, “No idea, man, but I gotta admit I feel less confident about keeping her tied up now.”

“What’s there to worry about?” The first voice scoffed as they got closer, and Joel shifted silently on his feet in anticipation of them following the bodies that she left in her wake into the house. “You said it yourself: she’s tied up. She can't do shit on our watch.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” came the mumbled response as the front door creaked open, and Joel’s breathing slowed as he entered a detached combat mode, listening for their footsteps as they neared his hiding place. “Still, she couldn't have been alone, right? I feel like it’s a bad idea to—”

The pair walked right past where Joel was hunched down, and that was his cue.

He leapt out, sweeping the table leg against the back of one of the hunter’s knees to send them flying to the ground. Joel raised the table leg in a swift movement as they fell, not missing a beat as he brought the makeshift weapon down hard enough that the bone in their leg shattered, causing the wood in his hands to break into two from how hard he hit them.

In the same instant, a gunshot rang out, the other hunter screaming in pain as blood spurted from their knee from Tommy’s well-placed shot, and they collapsed to the ground next to the one Joel had taken down.

Breathing heavily, Joel tossed the leftover piece of the makeshift weapon in his hands to the side. He reached down to grab the hunter by the collar of their jacket, pulling them along the ground behind him to one of the dining chairs.

“Find some tape,” Joel ordered gruffly over his shoulder, the words directed towards a startled Jesse, who jumped at the command before starting to search the house.

Tommy grabbed the other hunter, leaving a trail of blood that soaked the floor as he dragged them along after Joel. The Miller brothers fell into a practiced routine then, even if it was a strategy that they hadn’t done together in years.

Joel had done it recently enough, after all, and there was no small amount of anger fueling the malice that burned hot in his veins as he shoved the hunter at his mercy into a chair.

When Jesse returned shortly, a roll of duct tape in his hands, Tommy grabbed it from him, securing the hunter he had shot to a chair before tossing the tape to Joel so he could do the same. Once it was done, the men roughly rotated the chairs so the hunters were facing away from each other, and Joel began to stare down the one that he had ended up with as Tommy spoke in low, menacing tones to the other one.

The hunter was whimpering, trying to reach down to their broken leg, and Joel’s lip curled back in disgusted anger as he glared down at them. Who they were didn’t matter—not when they had been talking about her like that. Joel knew what they were responsible for, and he had run out of mercy a long time ago.

A loud slam echoed throughout the kitchen as Tommy threw the chair with his hunter in it to the ground. Joel looked up to see his brother crouch down to grab their hand and shove their fingers against their own bullet wound. The hunter screamed before Tommy dropped their hand, but not out of pity.

He gestured towards the hardwood floor, his voice devoid of all his trademark warmth; now it was only cold, with a deadly intent if he didn’t get an answer he was satisfied with.

“Write it,” he snarled, tapping the hardwood once before straightening.

The hunter’s breath quickened before they maneuvered their hand awkwardly with the tape binding their wrist to the armrest, writing something on the ground with the blood from their own wound that Tommy had made sure to drench their hand in.

When it was written, Joel leaned closer, glancing over the words that specified the location they were looking for. He glanced back at Tommy, nodding once before he made his way back to the hunter under his control.

“Now, I don’t have a lot of time,” Joel drawled almost casually, his voice low like he was having an intimate conversation with the hunter. But his smooth accent barely covered up the icy tone he spoke in, his gaze empty as he crouched down in front of the hunter he was interrogating. “And I don’t have a lot of patience. So you’re gonna tell me where you’re keeping the woman, and maybe I'll let you walk again.”

Joel's gaze moved to their other leg with sadistic intent, and he watched as the hunter began to hyperventilate, their eyes that were glazed over from pain flickering around the room as they began to realize the situation they were in.

“What, I’m supposed to believe you’ll actually let me go?” they said, laughing almost hysterically as they struggled against the tape. “You’re just gonna kill me, even if I tell you. And for what? Some stupid fucking bitch—”

Their head snapped back as Joel's fist hit them square in the face so hard that their chair fell over, and they hit the ground with a loud thud. The hunter groaned in pain, blood streaming through their broken nose as Joel stood slowly, his breathing coming in faster from white-hot anger as he grabbed the back of the chair to roughly pull them back up.

"You're right," he murmured, a slow, dangerous smirk growing over his face, before glancing back at Tommy to gesture toward his brother’s knife. "I am gonna kill you for that."

Tommy laid the blade on the ground, sliding it over to Joel, who stopped it with his foot when it got close enough.

“In fact, I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do now,” Joel started, turning the knife over in his hands before jabbing the blade into the hunter’s side.

They gasped before letting out a scream at the pain, trying to inch away from it as Joel leaned in closer to their face.

“You tell me where she is, and I’ll make it quick. If not—”

He pulled the blade out an inch, letting them finish another scream before he added quietly, “I’ll make every breath more painful than the last until you got none left.”

It only took another moment of hesitation, when Joel pulled out the blade just a fraction more to result in more excruciating pain, for them to confess. When they did, Joel glanced down at the location written in blood on the ground, seeing that the facts matched.

“Lucky for you, your buddy caught the memo,” Tommy said in mock cheerfulness as he pulled his handgun from its holster.

At the sound of the safety clicking off, the hunter Joel was interrogating began to panic, “Wait, no no no, you said you’d let me walk. You said—”

“I said I’d make it quick,” Joel said coldly as he yanked the knife out of their side, sinking it into the side their throat in the same breath that Tommy shot the other hunter in the head.

Silence descended upon the room as Joel stood, pulling the knife out and wiping the blade off on his jeans before he walked over to pass it back to Tommy.

“Jesus,” Jesse breathed from where he stood back, glancing between the Millers, and Joel could almost see the teenager’s mind processing just who he was looking at, maybe for the first time. 

Joel knew that Tommy was charming and welcoming around Jackson, stepping into an easy leadership position with his boundless charisma. He doubted any of the residents knew of the cold calculation Tommy’s inviting presence hid well. 

And while Joel was the polar opposite to his younger brother, never particularly warm or a shining beacon of friendly conversation, to see him flanking Tommy, hands stained with the blood of a man he had just tortured, and a formidable intent to kill every last bastard who had gotten their—Tommy’s girl, Joel realized that Jesse was seeing how dangerous they truly were for the first time.

Tommy holstered his weapons before his voice took on the tone he used when delegating orders, “It’s a house out in the forest, not far south from here. Joel and I will check it out, slow and careful. We don’t wanna tip them off that we’re around. And when we find them…”

Tommy glanced back at Joel, a rare hint of malice burning in his eyes that Joel recognized as his own; a part of himself that he couldn’t control passing on to his younger brother through their methods of survival in the first years following the Outbreak.

At the sight of it, Joel nodded seriously, his face set in grim determination as he swung his rifle down into his grasp. Neither of them needed to speak as they communicated the same sentiment silently:

Not a single one of them makes it out alive.

“What about me?”

Joel glanced back at Jesse’s anxiously eager question, which Tommy answered with a shake of his head as he walked towards the teenager.

“I need you to hunker down here. You—”

“What? No,” Jesse interrupted, shaking his head as he looked between the brothers. “I’m not sitting back. I can help.”

“You’re injured,” Tommy said firmly, his hand coming to rest firmly on Jesse’s uninjured shoulder as emphasis to the words.

“Hardly,” Jesse frowned, shrugging the shoulder with his injury as if to draw attention to it, showing that he could still move it. “It was just a graze. I can—”

“Kid,” Joel interrupted in a low tone now, his entire presence radiating a deadly gravity, and Jesse fell quiet as he met the stoic man’s eyes. “You’d only slow us down.”

Jesse looked between the brothers again, before looking down at the bodies they had just left with no hint of remorse, and he deflated as he realized there was truly nothing he could do.

“Okay,” Jesse said quietly with a nod, even as Joel could see how much staying back, how much being helpless hurt him. “Just…”

Jesse sighed, looking down at his feet for a moment before looking back up, his gaze solemn as he finished speaking with conviction, “Just bring her back.”

Joel’s grip tightened on his rifle as Tommy gave a grim nod, his brother clapping the teen on the shoulder once before turning to exit the house. 

Following close behind, the two brothers fell silent as they cut through the backyard, out of the neighborhood and into the trees. They moved slowly even as Joel’s blood pulsed to the fast beat of his heart that urged him to go faster, faster, to find her and leave no motherfucking survivors.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Joel was unsettled by how ready he was to storm into battle for her. Even as his muscles were tensed with the anticipation to kill every last bastard who may have laid a hand on her, he couldn’t help but remember her words clearly:

You’re not supposed to care.

She was right. He wasn’t supposed to care.

So why did he?

It wasn’t a question he could answer now, even if he wanted to try and figure it out, so Joel continued to walk in silence, holding his rifle tight as he tried to control his anxious rage that urged him to go in guns blazing.

Tommy was as disquieted as Joel, if not more so, but the more steps they took towards their destination, the more both brothers began to calm. They fell into a practiced silence; the quiet before the storm, readying themselves mentally and physically for the arduous task ahead.

When the house appeared through the treeline ahead, both men hunched down, approaching carefully to get a clear sightline while staying hidden as deep in the trees as they could. 

At first glance, it almost appeared abandoned, until a shadow passed by one of the windows on the second floor. Tommy shifted around the tree he was hiding behind to get a closer look at the same time Joel leaned forward, both men watching intently for more signs of life.

Then the back door swung open.

An armed man walked out, followed by another as a voice echoed towards them from inside the house.

“Stay in the trees if you’re gonna smoke, I hate the smell of that shit,” the voice barked before the door slammed behind them, and one of the hunters sighed as he pulled a couple of cigarettes from his pocket.

Joel exchanged a look with Tommy, and at the grave nod of confirmation, both men shifted. Staying hidden deeper within the trees, they looped around to where the hunters were heading further away from the house and into the forest, out of sight.

Their mistake, and their downfall.

Approaching stealthily, Joel and Tommy crept closer to the smoking pair, sneaking from tree to tree as the oblivious conversation from the hunters continued.

“How much longer do we have to stick around here for?” one of the men asked as the other sighed a puff of smoke out of his mouth.

“Until the boss is satisfied with the information he gets,” he replied as he tapped his cigarette, a couple ashes falling to the ground as Tommy sent Joel a look as they neared. Joel shook his head, silently telling Tommy to hold off for now, wanting to get more information on what was happening before they went in.

“Is he even getting anything?” the first one groaned, leaning his back against a tree a couple feet ahead of Joel. It was a perfect set up to take the hunter down quietly, but Joel stayed back a moment longer, even as his blood ran cold at the next words that left the man’s mouth, “That bitch hasn’t made a peep since we got her. Besides, that settlement looked fucking huge. We can’t take that, even with inside info.”

Joel’s hands clenched into fists at the mention of her, his vision turning red at the response that made it impossible for him to hold himself back any longer.

“Eh, even if we get nothing out of it, at least we take her down. I heard from another one of the guys that she was involved in taking our men out a couple months ago.” The man turned with a smirk that made Joel so blind with rage that he burst forward from his hiding place even as the man continued, “So getting to hear that bitch scream when the boss broke her wrist was satisfying as—”

The sentence was never finished as Joel was behind him in an instant, one arm going around his throat to pull him back as he grabbed the hunter’s jaw with the other. Somewhere behind him, Tommy cursed before muffling the start of a shout from the other hunter with a hand over his mouth and a knife shoved into his throat.

Joel ignored the struggling of the man powerless in the strength of his grip, reveling in the fear that he could feel exuding from the bastard before Joel found the right position and leverage, his hands twisting quickly to efficiently snap his neck.

The body fell lifelessly to the ground at his feet, and Joel glanced at Tommy as his brother wiped his knife and sheathed it again.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy muttered as he looked down at the body, the distorted angle of the broken neck, and back up at Joel. “A little warning next time.”

Joel didn’t respond, his mind on a one-track mission as he turned, creeping closer to hunch behind a tree with a clear sightline to the back door. Tommy followed, hunkering down near him as they glanced between the windows of the house, trying to gauge how many hunters were left.

It was nearly impossible to tell their numbers, with most of the windows in the back of the house covered by boards or curtains. While it left the Miller brothers at a disadvantage, it also meant that nobody inside could see their approach. Tommy nodded at Joel, and the two men darted towards the house, flanking each side of the back door, pulling out their sidearms to take this closer-range fight.

Even though the hunters had an advantage in numbers, Joel and Tommy didn’t need to overcompensate with more bodies; anybody else fighting alongside them would only get in the way. The brothers held the element of surprise, and they only needed each other to make the last moments of these bastards’ lives hell.

Tommy shifted, pulling his knife back out when they heard footsteps approaching the back door. Joel subconsciously held his breath, flattening himself against the wall as the hunter who had shouted at the smoking pair earlier stuck his head back out, brow furrowed as he called out their names when Tommy’s dagger came right for their throat.

The blade glinted with blood that the raider choked on as Tommy pulled the knife back out with a sickening sound, stepping into the house as he switched the melee weapon for his handgun. Joel followed, sidearm lifted at the ready, ignoring the weak efforts the dying hunter made to grab his feet as he passed. 

Together, the Millers moved swiftly through the house, their bullets finding their surprised targets with ease. Despite the numbers they faced, the hunters didn’t stand a fucking chance against the vengeance that fueled both men. They ended one life with detached, ruthless precision before moving on to the next, no ounce of mercy in their veins as they embarked on a mission with one task only:

Bring her home.

Breathing came with difficulty, your vision swimming as you hunched back against the wall. The sounds of the hunters’ conversation seemed far away, and you curled your body around itself as well as you could to protect yourself without seeming too broken down.

It had been a while since you had been on either side of torture, and you focused on keeping your breaths even as you kept that shred of yourself that remained, your dignity and sanity, locked carefully away in the back of your mind. One of your hands hung limply in the rope that still bound you to the pipe on the wall, pain radiating from your broken wrist as you took this break from the punches to collect yourself as best as you could before the next wave of torture came.

When the hunter who had spoken to you when you had first woken up—the leader of the group, from what you had gathered—walked towards you again, you glared up at them in defiance.

“You’re not gonna last much longer, girl,” they said as they crouched down in front of you, and you laughed, your own blood glinting on your teeth as you bared them in an angry grin up towards them.

“I could say the same to you,” you bit back, your voice hoarse from the effort you had made holding in the screams that threatened to escape your throat during the torture. They raised an eyebrow at your unwavering determination that remained even after the pain they had been inflicting upon you.

You tried to gauge how much time had passed now, but it was impossible to tell other than how the ache in your muscles had gotten progressively worse. But it was a sign that this had been going on long enough for it to be over for them soon.

Right as you realized that their time was about to be up, you heard a gunshot ring out from somewhere below you, as if on cue. A tired laugh left your dry, cracked lips as your smirk grew at the startled look on the leader’s face.

“Fucking idiot,” you spat the words up at them, watching with satisfaction as they winced from the blood that flew from your lips to land on their face. “Should’ve killed me and left while you had the chance.”

More gunshots rang out from below, shouts of men followed by the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground, and your smile was only broken when a sharp burst of pain radiated through your thigh.

You sucked in a harsh breath, your eyes flashing down to where the leader had stabbed you with your own knife. Looking up, you returned their deadly glare vehemently, even as you were unable to hold back a shout as they pulled the blade from your flesh.

“Let’s see how long you last,” they said bitterly, dropping the knife before standing and spinning to walk towards the only door to the room. They pulled their pistol from its holster, lifting the gun as they nodded towards one of the two guards in the room to open the door.

Though it was cruel, and spoke volumes about your humanity, you swear you could have laughed when the hunter leader took only a step forward before their head snapped back with a spurt of blood as a bullet flew through it. 

You watched their body fall back, hitting the ground as the guards flanked either side of the door, voices loud with panic as you looked down the hallway. Whoever had taken the shot had disappeared in an instant, ducking into one of the rooms lining the hall as you tried to ignore the blood rushing from the knife wound left in your thigh.

When there was no sound except for further gunfire downstairs, one of the guards next to the door shifted, sharing hesitant glances with the other guard before moving out into the hallway. They crept down it carefully, hands shaking on their gun before they steadied their grip.

Didn’t do them much good as they whipped around, unable to get a shot off as a large body flew at them from inside the room across from them, shoving them against the wall before delivering a bullet straight into their stomach. Another shot was taken right for their head as they slid to the ground, before the man who had killed them turned towards the last guard that was trying to find aim on your rescuer.

He ducked as a shot rang out, the bullet going wide over his hunched form as he sprinted forward. The guard fell heavily to the ground with the tackle to their torso, the thud of their body hitting the floor echoed by the punches to their face. 

One, two, three times the man pinning the hunter to the ground delivered his fist into their face before you lost count. He rose to his feet after a moment, kicking the gun from the cowering guard’s grasp before moving towards you.

Your vision swam, the face of your savior blurry from the combination of lingering pain from the torture, and the loss of blood from the stab wound in your leg. You subconsciously pulled at the bindings on your hand as he moved closer, even as the pain shooting through your broken wrist made you wince. Blinking a few times as he kneeled, your sight finally started to clear as he picked up your knife to begin cutting through the rope that kept you tied down.

For a moment, you only saw dark eyes, the strong lines of a face, and you thought it was Tommy. But when he leaned closer, pulling the cut rope from your sore wrists, you saw the gray in the hair, the familiar crease of his brow, and you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding.

“Joel,” you whispered hoarsely on the exhale, your body slumping forward as he gently held your bruised wrists in his steady grip.

And for once, you saw his face soften.

It was a small shift in expressions, hardly noticeable, but you still saw the way that Joel’s gaze wavered as it flickered over your face, as if he was assessing the damage inflicted upon you, both physical and mental.

In his presence once more, you began to relax almost subconsciously, no ounce of protest in your body as he tugged you to him, arms wrapping around you to keep you from falling. He carefully pulled you to your feet, gingerly taking your wrist that wasn’t broken to pull your arm across his shoulders. You didn’t protest as you leaned heavily against him, using him for support as he guided you out of the room. 

Joel didn’t even pause next to the hunter he had beaten up that was slowly crawling to their gun, nor did he look down as his gun echoed with a bang, leaving another body on the ground as you passed.

The gunfire had ceased downstairs, and you struggled down the steps, only making it because Joel held onto you tightly, making sure you didn’t trip as he guided you forward. When you saw Tommy approaching, making his way through a floor littered with bodies, you couldn’t help but smile weakly at the pure look of relief that broke out over your friend’s face.

“It’s all good,” you murmured as Tommy’s hands found your face, tilting it so he could get a better look at the damage. One of your eyes hurt more than the other, and you realized that it was swelling—probably part of the reason why your vision was still blurry. “I knew you would come, so I kept them distracted.”

Tommy huffed out a shaky laugh, shaking his head in disbelief as he patted your cheek fondly.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he muttered, turning to lead the way towards where you presumed the exit was. You limped along, leaning more and more on Joel as you stumbled out of the suffocating air of the stuffy house into the fresh summer breeze outside.

And when the clean air washed over you, you sucked in a deep breath as you finally allowed yourself to relax.

It was over. 

They had come for you. 

You were safe.

The last thought echoed in your mind as you sank into Joel’s side, unable to resist the feeling of protection he offered as he kept you standing. His grip on you tightened in response, and that thought kept repeating itself, over and over: safe. He was here. You were safe.

Tommy turned to say something to you as you continued to sink into that feeling of safety, his mouth opening at the same time a loud bang echoed through the air. 

Your blood ran cold, frozen in horror as you were helpless to do anything but watch it happen.

Blood spewed from Tommy’s arm as a bullet shot through it, and a scream finally tore from your throat at the sight. Tommy stumbled forward, grasping at the wound as Joel’s free hand lifted, swiftly delivering a few returning gunshots to the hunter that had been unaccounted for as they emerged from the treeline. 

Tommy exhaled heavily, grabbing his arm as blood rushed from the wound, and you tried to run the short distance to him even as Joel clutched you to his side, his tight grip on you not wavering as he scanned the trees for any more stragglers.

Only when there was no more movement did Joel turn to his brother, his eyes wide with concern that Tommy brushed aside with a shake of his head.

“I’m fine,” Tommy grunted, turning away as he began to walk towards the trees. “Clean shot. Just need to bandage it up quickly and head back to Jackson.”

“Tommy—”

“I’m fine,” Tommy quickly cut you off, his voice showing he was taking no arguments as he quickly marched through the trees back towards the neighborhood where you had been ambushed, even as blood continued to drip through his fingertips. “I’m more concerned about how hurt you are. We gotta get you back.”

You frowned, not liking how he brushed aside his own wound in concern for you, but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to upset him further. You knew that he would be taking your capture hard, probably even going so far as to blame himself for it, but now was not the time to argue.

When you entered the neighborhood, and somebody burst through one of the doors from the line of houses, you nearly shouted from fear that Tommy would get hurt again before you recognized the face, even twisted in concern as it was.

“Are you—”

“Go get the horses,” Tommy waved off whatever question Jesse had, wincing as he quickly clutched his gunshot wound again. It hadn’t stopped bleeding, and panic began to make adrenaline course through your veins again, even as you currently couldn’t stand on your own without Joel’s help, who had not loosened his grip on you from where he had you pulled against his side.

Jesse wasn’t gone for long, returning shortly with a couple of the horses as Tommy began to sway in place. For the first time since getting you out of that house, Joel spoke up, his words an order to Jesse as he moved with you towards one of the horses.

“Bandage Tommy’s wound, and ride with him to make sure he doesn’t fall,” he said shortly, and Tommy managed a glare towards his brother even as he was helpless to resist as Jesse wrapped his wound tightly with gauze the teen pulled out of his backpack, before guiding the injured man towards one of the horses.

“I’m fine—”

“You’re not,” Joel interrupted, his voice taking on a tone of command that only an older sibling could have. 

Tommy paused at the sound of it, heaving a sigh as he finally let Jesse help him onto the horse at the same time that Joel turned to you. His touch was gentle but firm as he helped you onto your own horse, making sure you were in the saddle securely before swiftly mounting behind you. His arms circled around you, grabbing the reins to spur the horse forward, keeping you pressed back against his chest so you didn't fall while you rode.

There was still a way to go before you returned to Jackson, but Joel set a pace so fast that the trees around you were nothing but a blur. You marveled at how he could even keep to the trail, sparing a glance behind you to see Jesse keeping pace with you from where he sat behind Tommy, whose face had gone pale with blood loss from the gunshot.

You turned back around, eyes watering as you tried to not think about the worse because, god fucking dammit, if anything happened to Tommy—especially because of you—you didn’t think you could ever forgive yourself.

In the height of your adrenaline, you forgot all about your own wound, blood seeping through your jeans as the dark fabric obscured the fact that you had been stabbed. Even if you could feel the pain right now, you wouldn’t care. Tommy was more important.

When the gates of Jackson finally appeared in the distance, you let out a heavy sigh of relief, nearly slumping out of the saddle with it if Joel hadn’t grabbed you and pulled you further against his chest. You were helpless to the warm protection he offered, sinking back into him as your eyes began to droop. The gates were opening as the guards saw you passing through the clearing, the men and women shouting towards the inside of the settlement for assistance, and you knew you had made it. You knew Tommy would be safe.

Your eyes only opened again once you passed through the gate, watching as a group of your fellow patrolmen rushed forward to help Tommy down, as the man had an obvious injury that was in need of immediate care. Glad for the lack of attention, you turned towards Joel as he slid off the horse before carefully pulling you off the saddle after him.

He began to reach a hand out towards the group leaving with Tommy, his mouth opening to call attention towards you as well as your friend was taken towards the direction you knew Jackson’s clinic was in, but you shook your head as you watched Tommy’s back get further away.

“Tommy needs the help,” you mutter, eyes drooping as you tried to deny Joel’s assistance even as you began to fall forward.

He quickly caught you, his grip strong as he tried to hold you up, even as you couldn’t remain standing any longer. You slumped into Joel’s side as he grabbed at you, saying something you couldn’t hear, and you watched his mouth move as his concerned gaze flew over you, searching for the cause of your quickly fading consciousness.

Then his hand came away from where it had landed on your leg, his palm slick with your blood, and his eyes widened. Joel glanced back towards the horse behind you, and you turned, finally seeing the trail of blood your wound had left on the saddle where you had slid off of it before you swayed again.

Joel grabbed you tightly, pulling you against him as he shouted. You felt his voice rumble in his chest from where your head was pressed against it more than you heard whatever he was yelling, and your eyes were falling shut as you felt his hand press to your cheek, leaving your own blood as a stain on your skin as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

For a moment, you saw his face.

For just one moment, you saw the look of trepidation in Joel’s eyes as his mouth moved, saying something to you that you couldn’t hear through the blood rushing in your head.

And right before unconsciousness finally swept you away, you could only think one thing:

He wasn’t supposed to care.

When you awoke next, it was with pain. You winced even with your eyes still closed, slowly returning to the land of the living as your entire body seemed to hurt. But that dull, throbbing ache throughout your muscles paled in comparison to the sharp pain that shot through your leg as you tried to shift.

You forced your eyes open, blinking at the artificial light that flooded the room as you stirred. A stiff pillow was beneath your head, and you turned to try and gain some bearings of your surroundings, nearly jolting from the bed you were in when you saw that you weren’t alone.

But that short burst of shock quickly faded as you relaxed back into your bed, a tired smile flickering onto your face as you saw Tommy in the bed beside you, his arm heavily bandaged up as he returned your exhausted smile with one of his own.

“The doc was worried that if one of us woke up alone without seeing the other, we might tear the place apart,” he said softly, a wider smile tilting up his lips at your hoarse laughter.

“Yeah, well,” you started, wincing at how dry your throat was before you sighed, “she always was one of the smartest people in this town.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Tommy said cheekily, and your smile was weak but fond as he drawled, “even smarter than me?”

“Tommy, you mean the world to me, man,” you muttered as you shifted again, trying to push yourself up on only one arm as your other wrist was bound in a cast, “but you’re as dumb as fucking rocks sometimes.”

He laughed brightly at your snark, the sound quickly turning into a cough as you glanced over in concern, which he waved off as he grabbed a glass of water off the table next to him with his good arm. You glanced beside your own bed at the action, letting out a sigh of relief as you grabbed the glass of water that was there with your good hand and began to gulp it down.

When you both finished drinking, you sat in silence for a moment, and it was hard not to notice Tommy’s mood turning somber as he shot glances at you from the corner of his eye. You were about to ask him about whatever it was that he clearly wanted to say when he finally spoke.

“You should have told us you were hurt,” he said quietly, frowning deeply, and you sighed as you rubbed your free hand down over your face.

“To be honest, I forgot about it,” you muttered. Tommy gave a disbelieving scoff at your words, and you sent him a half-hearted glare. “Well, you were bleeding out.”

“So were you,” he nearly snapped back, his tone more biting, and you had to remind yourself not to take it to heart, because you knew it was from a place of love. 

You knew that Tommy was mad because he cared. He had been scared for your life, and you knew that when Tommy got angry, he got mean. Just like you did.

It was because of that fact that you forced yourself to keep quiet, not wanting to turn this into an argument. Not when you were both injured and bedridden like this.

“What, you’re not even going to say anything?” he bit out, and you sighed as you leaned back into the pillows you managed to prop up behind you so that you could sit up.

“I’m not doing this right now, Tommy,” you murmured, your eyes squeezing shut as you heard him shift in the bed beside you. You could almost feel his anger growing, even as you refused to feed it with the fuel of your own anger.

In retrospect, maybe that was why Tommy only got angrier. When faced with the rare circumstance when you two got into an argument, neither of you minced words as you tended to duke it out with your words. Then when the heat of the moment faded, and you were only left with the harsh words hanging in the air, you both would deflate, forced to face down your own needless cruelty and talk it out in an honest heart-to-heart. 

Faced with your rare silence now, he didn’t know how to handle the situation. And that made him meaner.

“When are we going to do this?” he barked back at you, and you finally opened your eyes to stare at him blankly, watching his hackles rise at what he probably perceived as indifference from you.

Little did he know how much you truly cared, and how much that vulnerability tore you apart.

“When are you going to admit that you are ready and willing to die?” Tommy’s voice was hard as he accused you, even with the pain shining in his eyes at his own words, and you froze at the truth as it hung heavy in the air between you.

Because, fuck, you knew that, but you didn’t know Tommy did.

This whole time, you thought he couldn’t see. You thought you covered it well; your emptiness, your dedication to live only for as long as it took to ensure that the people you loved survived. 

In retrospect, you should have known Tommy could see it. He had always known you well, sometimes even better than you knew yourself.

“For you,” you finally managed to clarify in response to the accusation, and Tommy winced as he turned his face away from you.

He shook his head, his hands balling into fists on the sheets as he glared down at his own tight grip. Maybe he was picturing it was you that he was holding onto so tightly—not trying to hurt you, but trying to keep you there. Trying to keep you with him.

“I don’t want that from you,” he finally said quietly, and you frowned as you looked away from him.

“I do,” you whispered, and you winced at Tommy’s sharp exhale, like your two simple words hurt him more than the bullet that had pierced through his arm.

He spoke your name as a curse, and you looked back up at him to see him staring at you with unshed tears behind his dark eyes, and your own eyes began to sting at the sight of his pain even as you couldn’t change your mind. You had set yourself on this path long ago. It was all that you had left in you.

“Jesus, I can’t—” Tommy cut himself off, unable to finish whatever he was going to say as he breathed out heavily. He pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes, inhaling deeply before the next words that left his mouth made your blood run cold, “Is this what she would want?”

You knew Tommy realized it was a mistake the moment he said it, but you couldn’t stop yourself from shutting down as you knew exactly what he meant. 

He didn’t need to say the name, didn’t need to give any details because you knew.

And he knew, his eyes wide as he looked back up at you.

He said your name again, this time as a plea as you threw the sheets off of your body. You stumbled to your feet, ripping the IV from your arm as you stormed away on unsteady feet. Tommy’s words fell on deaf ears as you only stopped to grab your dirty, blood-soaked clothes from the chair in the corner, not looking back as you staggered out of the room.

This time, he let you go.

When Joel visited the clinic to see Tommy, and she wasn’t there, the rare, unwelcome sensation of fear nearly choked him yet again.

For a second his mind turned to the worse, seeing the empty bed beside his brother where she should have been. In a quick flash he saw a freshly dug grave, a headstone with her name on it, before he saw Tommy’s gaze was not one of somebody who had just lost their closest friend. 

Only then did Joel allow himself to relax, the panic swept to the back of his mind as he frowned, sending another glance towards the empty bed when Tommy sighed.

“She’s fine,” Tommy muttered, reaching a hand up to drag his fingers through his hair in a movement that told Joel that his brother was stressed, but trying not to be. “She just—”

He stopped, sighing as he dropped his head into his hand, covering his face with his palm as his shoulders slouched. Joel saw now that there wasn’t only stress in his brother’s movements, but guilt.

“I got mad,” he muttered against his hand, the quiet words almost getting lost between them if the small room wasn’t otherwise empty. Joel moved to sink down onto the empty bed, not saying anything as he let Tommy continue slowly, “I said some shit I shouldn’t have.”

Joel still said nothing. He wasn't surprised; he knew well that Tommy lashed out when he was upset, having gotten the brunt of his anger more than once. Joel leaned forward as he looked at his brother, showing that he was listening, and that he could wait until Tommy was ready to reveal whatever was weighing on his mind.

“She used to have a light in her eyes, y’know,” Tommy murmured after a long moment of trying to find the words. He stared down at his hands in his lap as his shoulders sank, as if the weight from his thoughts were heavy enough to affect him physically as well as emotionally. “A bright light that I haven’t seen in…years.”

Tommy shook his head, rubbing his hand over the facial hair on his chin, not looking at Joel as the older man simply listened in silence, letting his little brother get whatever he needed to off his chest.

“She acts like she’s okay, but I know she’s not. Dina knows it too, but what the hell can we do?” Tommy laughed humorlessly, throwing his hands up in the air as if it was a helpless cause that tormented him more than Joel had ever realized. “She doesn’t want our help. Even though she’d do anything for us, she won’t let us return that favor for her.”

His head continued to shake, downcast in a way so that Joel couldn’t see his face, but the way he choked up on the next words was enough to make Joel stand in concern for his baby brother.

“She’s like—she’s a piece of me, y’know?” Tommy said quietly, placing his face in his hand again, and Joel quietly sank down on the edge of his bed, just so Tommy knew that he wasn’t alone in this. “In the Fireflies, we did some fucking awful shit, and I didn’t have anybody. I…I didn’t have you.”

Tommy looked up then, his eyes watering, and Joel’s heart broke as his older brother instincts kicked in. The pain, the vulnerability on Tommy’s face suddenly reminded Joel of when they were kids; those days when Tommy would come home from school, crying because the older kids had picked on him. 

Joel remembered how he would go back to school the next day with his fists up, giving those kids bloody noses and black eyes until they knew to leave his baby brother alone, even though their mother would yell at him for the needless violence every time. 

He guessed he had always had a hothead and callous heart, even at a young age. But it was always all for those few souls that Joel loved, and that had never changed.

“When I met her and—”

Tommy suddenly broke off, his eyes wavering before they darted back down to his hands. He flexed them, clearing his throat before he corrected himself, even though Joel noticed the slipup. 

There was another name, another person who had been in the Fireflies with them. Someone who Joel presumed was not still here with them, the name too painful to speak aloud even now.

Suddenly, a lot of things that he vaguely knew about the woman began to make sense. The pieces of her that he knew about clicked into place to form a bigger picture of her in his mind, of why she was the woman she was today.

“When I met her, she had her whole life ahead of her. Sure, she was always tough, with a smart mouth, but…” he trailed off, shaking his head as he straightened with a sigh.

“She lost everything,” Joel found himself murmuring, and Tommy looked back at him in surprise, to which Joel shrugged in response. “You can recognize it in another person pretty well, when it’s happened to you.” 

Tommy leaned back into the pillows behind him, nodding slowly even as he didn’t confirm it with any words or explanations. Those weren’t his to give, after all.

“The doc said she’ll need help with her injuries,” Tommy said quietly as he glanced back towards the empty bed where she had been. “But she doesn’t have anybody to do that for her. She’ll struggle alone, and nobody will know.”

For some reason, that caused an ache in Joel’s chest, his brows furrowing as he stared at the empty bed and the IV bag of fluids still hanging next to it.

“You’ll know,” Joel said quietly, trying to find some peace in the situation, but Tommy’s bitter laugh in response was jarring to his ears.

“But I can’t do shit about it.”

The brothers fell silent at that, both of them staring at the spot where she should have been. Joel’s hand balled into a fist against his knee, that ache in his chest deepening the longer he stared at the emptiness across from him.

When the resident doctor came in to change Tommy's bandage, Joel parted with his brother with a brief farewell and a promise to be back soon. 

Outside of the clinic, the streets of Jackson weren’t too busy as night approached. The temperature was cooling down as Joel shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk the path back to his home, that ache continuing to carve its way deeper into his chest with each step he took.

Joel ignored it, as he did with everything that involved any emotion deeper than indifference. There were precious few people who could get him to care these days, and she wasn’t one of them.

But that ache persisted, and Joel’s shoulders hunched forward as he tried to shake it from his head. She shouldn’t be one of them.

On his right, the gravestones of Jackson’s cemetery beckoned his attention as he passed by them on his path home. Joel’s steps slowed to a stop, glancing over the names of the residents’ beloved, as the same thought from his brief panic earlier, when he had seen the empty bed, flashed through his mind again.

Joel sighed heavily as he paused for a moment, fighting with himself before he turned right back around, that ache in his chest only loosening with each step he took closer to his new destination.

Cold tile pressed against your cheek as you laid on your bathroom floor, trying to ground yourself from the barrage of thoughts and memories making your mind spin. You had already been sick once when you had returned to the safety of your house, but even with the time that had passed since then, you had only been able to get back up long enough to clean your face before lying back down.

The phantom weight of your tattoo pressed heavily on your torso again, and you exhaled harshly as you shifted, wincing from the pain that radiated from the bandaged wound on your leg from the awkward position. When the pain didn’t fade even as you readjusted, you sighed, using your one good arm to push yourself up so you could look down at the injury.

“Shit,” you muttered as you pulled the top of your jeans down, the dirty fabric caked with dried blood from when you had been stabbed earlier. You looked down to see that your wound had started bleeding lightly through the fabric from moving too much.

You rubbed a hand over your face, stumbling to your feet and trying to ignore your reflection in the mirror, but it beckoned you to look. Beckoned you to see. 

And when you did, you were nearly sick again. But you held on, your free hand curling around the edge of the countertop in a desperate attempt to keep yourself up.

There was too much of her in your face, even with a black eye and cracked lips. The color of your irises was too similar, the way your hair fell into place too much like her own, and you turned from the mirror with a shaky breath, unable to keep looking any longer, even as you knew that that wasn’t where the similarities stopped.

Your snark; she had had that too, her wit outmatching even yours. Her jokes had always held a kindness, even as your laughter was at the expense of others. Her humor had a joyful spark that contrasted sharply to your needless cruelty.

Her tenacity; she had gotten that from you too. But while your stubbornness had always been focused on survival, hers was always set on doing good. You wouldn’t have joined the Fireflies if it wasn’t what she had wanted, her conviction leaving you powerless to say no.

And even after all you had done, she had always believed. She always saw that light in the dark.

She always had been the best version of you.

She had always been your light in the dark.

And now she was gone; gone, but you loved her still, more than anybody, and what were you supposed to do with that? Where was all that love supposed to go when she wasn’t here anymore?

Your back slid against the cabinets as you fell back onto the ground, head tilted back as the tears streamed silently down your cheeks.

This is why you deflected. This is why you compartmentalized it, shoving it into the back of your mind, refusing to think about it even as it haunted every step you took. 

Because how could you ever get back up when you remembered her face every time you looked at your own?

Hands covering your face, you wept for a world without her in it. Your shoulders shook with the sobs, helpless to do anything except wait for the moment to pass, to wait until you had no more tears left to shed.

Even when it finally passed, you sat there, unable to find the strength to pull yourself up again. Unable to look in the mirror and see the parts of her that were still a part of you.

So when you heard the knock on your front door, you were nearly relieved by the necessary distraction it brought from your wallowing, even as you began to realize you that you didn’t have the strength physically to get up and answer it.

“Go away, Tommy,” you called out of the open door of the bathroom, knowing your voice would carry through the small home to where he was no doubt pounding on your door.

There was a pause, then more knocking, and you sighed in exasperation when it didn’t stop this time.

“For fuck’s sake, Tommy,” you bit out as you shifted to grab the edges of the countertop, pulling yourself up to stagger out of the doorway. “I told you to go away—”

You paused, seeing the culprit behind the knocking had taken the liberty of opening your front door and stepping inside. They froze when they saw you standing down the hallway from them, and you stared right back at them in equal shock.

Joel stood in the entryway with his hand still on the door handle, as if he was ready to turn and leave the moment you told him to get out. In his other hand, he held a package of bandages and cleaning solutions, and you couldn’t help but gawk at the unexpected sight.

“Um,” you hedged, not sure what to say as the two of you stared at each other from opposite sides of the hallway. Joel, surprisingly, looked as dumbfounded as you felt, even as he was the one who had walked into your house without an invitation. “Come in, I guess?”

“Sorry,” Joel muttered, shifting on his feet as he glanced away from you, and you were surprised by how awkward the motion was before he straightened. He lifted the medical supplies in his hand as he added, “I went to see Tommy, and the doc mentioned you needed these. I—uh, Tommy asked me to bring them.”

“Oh,” you said softly, nodding as you rocked back on the balls of your feet. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered you had just been sobbing your eyes out, and you turned your face away from his view as you quickly wiped at your eyes, wincing as you rubbed at the slightly swollen one. “Uh, thanks.”

Joel nodded, even as he made no move to walk forward and give the supplies to you. He stayed glued to the entryway, his hand still on the open door, his entire being screaming more hesitation and uncertainty than you had ever seen from him. Maybe it would have made you laugh, if you hadn’t felt so empty right then.

“The uh—the doctor also mentioned you might need help,” he said quietly, still avoiding your gaze even as you tried to catch his eyes, trying to gain a glimpse through his outer walls to see what he was really thinking, what he was really doing here. “So…”

You paused, blinking for a moment as you tried to process what he was getting at. 

Help? What did he—

A startled cough escaped you, and you quickly cleared your throat as you glanced away from him.

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured, glancing down towards your where your bandaged knife wound was hidden underneath your dirty jeans with a wince because, fuck, you wouldn’t be. It would be hard to clean the injury even with two working hands, given how much your body was aching all over from the physical torture you had only just endured.

“Yeah, right,” Joel said quietly, nodding to himself as he looked down at his feet. After another moment of just standing there, he cleared his throat, finally looking up at you, and although his gaze appeared to be as guarded as always, there was something threatening to bleed through there that made you avoid the eye contact this time.

In the back of your mind, you remembered that morning on his kitchen floor, drinking coffee together. Your voice echoed through all the crevices in your mind, followed by his, and you paused at the memory.

Have you ever lost everything?

…Yes.

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment as you cursed yourself internally. Turning back to face him, your mouth opened to say words you had sworn to yourself never to say to anyone.

“I won’t be.”

Joel paused from where he had been reaching out to place the supplies on the table in your entryway before leaving, blinking as his eyes met yours from down the hallway.

“Fine,” you clarified, your voice shaking as you balled your hands into fists at your sides. “I won’t be…fine.”

Fuck, you hated admitting it; especially out loud, especially to him.

But Joel already knew you in a more intimate way than anybody else did. Not only that, but he knew how broken you were; he had shared that pain somehow in his own way, in his own life. 

So what the fuck did you have to lose from swallowing your own fucking pride for once in your goddamn life?

Joel searched your gaze, probably looking for any part of you that said otherwise, that wanted him to leave through the door that was still open. You assumed he found nothing that told him to go outright by the way he stepped further into your house, the door clicking shut behind him before he walked down the hallway to meet you.

When he stopped in front of you, he still hesitated, and you did too as you glanced towards the bathroom next to you before looking back at him. You gestured towards it, and Joel looked over before shaking his head and waving back towards you in response.

“Ladies first,” he muttered, and you couldn’t help a quiet laugh. Some small, yet-to-be-broken part of yourself was still able to be genuinely amused at the comment as you walked into the small bathroom first at his show of selective manners.

“Maybe you really do have some Southern charm in you after all, cowboy,” you said quietly as you turned, trying to find a place to sit as Joel walked in behind you, his quiet chuckle pulling your attention back to him.

“Don’t go letting people know, now,” he murmured, shooting a glance towards you from the corner of his eye as he laid the medical supplies out on your counter. “I got a reputation to keep up.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” you drawled, the banter you had exchanged that night when you had both been drunk returning to you now with an odd sense of familiarity, and you leaned into that feeling, letting it ground you to the moment as you gave him a small smirk. “I’d have to fight the other ladies off with a stick.”

Joel laughed again, louder this time, the sound somehow more real than it ever was before, and you paused as you watched the amusement pass over his face; the corners of his eyes crinkling, his brown irises brighter as his lips tilted up in his own small smirk to return yours.

He didn’t say anything in response, simply shaking his head as he busied himself with tearing one of the packages open. In the silence that fell, you busied yourself with unbuttoning your jeans, wincing with the pain the effort brought as you tried to push them down enough to reveal your bandaged wound, when Joel turned back around to face you.

Shock made you freeze as Joel knelt down in front of you, his hands coming up to help peel the pants down your legs all the way. You hadn’t been planning to take them off completely, but Joel didn’t say anything as he put them to the side, letting you sit down on the edge of your bathtub as he turned back to grab the bandages and cleaning solution.

You told yourself it was nothing he hadn’t seen before, and while that was true, this felt…different. 

Because it was different; it was removing clothes with no intention of sex, and your fingers twitched from restlessness where you rested them on the edge of the bathtub.

“Doesn’t this break your rules?” you murmured, and Joel didn’t spare a glance up at you as he carefully peeled the slightly bloody bandage away from your wound.

“We’re not fucking, are we?” he replied bluntly, echoing the words he had spoken in his kitchen that one morning, and you huffed out a laugh before glancing away with a shake of your head.

You guessed he was right. Technically, it wasn’t a violation of the rules. 

But deep down, you knew the slope that you were on together had gotten steeper again, and you were both helpless to do anything but slide down it a bit farther than before.

Still, you didn’t want to ponder too much about what that meant as you looked away from him while he cleaned up the wound your own knife had left in your thigh when the hunter had stabbed you with it. You held back any noises that indicated your pain, but you were too tired to hide any winces as he meticulously wiped the clean cotton soaked with solution along the wound before covering it back up with a fresh bandage.

You were prepared to stand back up when Joel picked up a damp washcloth that you hadn’t noticed he had prepared, and began to carefully wipe it down along your leg, cleaning up any dried blood and dirt that still stained your skin from the day. The action made you pause, eyes wide at the intimacy of it as you clutched the edge of the bathtub tighter.

No words left your lips as you watched him, unable to string together anything coherent to say as he finished cleaning one leg and moved to the next. When he wiped the fabric across your uninjured thigh, you suddenly remembered waking up in his living room not even twenty-four hours before this moment, and how your thighs had been clean then. 

You wondered if Joel had cleaned them then like he did now; with a concentrated furrowing of his brow, the hands that you had seen kill mercilessly just earlier today the very same ones that attentively guided the damp washcloth along your skin now. A feeling you couldn't recognize thumped in your chest at the thought, and you quickly glanced away.

Joel’s hands rose, the cloth now wiping away the grime on your arms as he took them in his hands, and you stared at your bathroom wall as you forced yourself not to think, not to feel anything in that moment. Even as you could feel something growing that you tried to bury back into that crypt that every thought of him always seemed to crawl back out of.

When he stood and turned away from you, a silent breath of relief escaped you, thinking you were done with this now, and everything between you and Joel could go back to its weird normalcy. He would leave now, and you wouldn’t see him again until he wanted to fuck. And you could live with that.

But then he turned back with a new washcloth, crouching down in front of you again as he calmly took your chin in his hand. You froze at the touch, eyes wide as that feeling inside you grew when he began to meticulously clean your face. 

Your eyes darted over his face, helpless but to watch for any reaction he was giving during his task, but you couldn’t read him. He was as guarded as ever, taking his task seriously as he carefully dabbed the cool cloth around your swollen eye.

It was only then when you finally found the ability to speak, the words leaving your cracked lips even before you could really think about them.

“What are you doing here, Joel?”

Joel paused in his actions, his gaze finally flashing to meet yours from where his face was now so close to yours, maybe closer than it had ever been. Your heart thumped in your chest as you stared at him in defiance, his expression blank before he shook his head and went back to carefully cleaning the area around your black eye.

“I told you to stay safe,” he said quietly, and your heart squeezed in your chest as you tried to look away, but his grip on your chin tightened, keeping you there as he lightly wiped the damp cloth down your cheek. “Don’t be so eager to throw your life away.”

The words made you bristle, your hand curling into a fist as you mustered a glare at him, even as his grip didn’t waver on your chin while he drew the washcloth along your jaw.

“Did I make the wrong move?” you asked quietly, anger simmering under the surface as Joel finally looked back at you. “Should I have let Jesse get captured too?”

Joel sighed, the washcloth dropping from your face, even as his hand remained firmly holding your chin so you couldn’t look away from him as he met your hard gaze readily.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said quietly, his eyes serious as they looked into yours, the brown of them trying to communicate something that you couldn’t understand.

“Then what?” you snapped, unable to keep yourself from reacting on your knee jerk response to this kind of topic that told you to fight. “Given the same circumstance, I would do it again. Jesse has a life. He has a family—”

“So do you,” Joel said sternly, his eyes blazing as an emotion that you couldn’t name finally bled through his neutral voice, and you paused at the unexpected strength of it.

The two of you watched each other for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say to follow that, before Joel finally dropped his hand from your face. He sighed again, rubbing his eyes before speaking again, quieter this time.

“People need you.” Joel looked up at you, his stoic gaze cracking just slightly even as you couldn’t tell what emotions were trying to break through. Still, it caught you off-guard and captured all of your attention. “Tommy needs you. Dina needs you. Hope needs you—you made a promise to her. You can’t just brush that aside.”

The mention of Hope got to you the most, your gaze darting away as you bit your inner cheek.

“It’s not that simple,” you said quietly, still not looking at Joel until he moved to slump against the bathtub on the ground, next to where you still sat on the edge.

“Yeah, I know,” he murmured, and you didn’t need to know his life story to know that he really did understand—probably better than anyone else in this town did.

Silence fell between you, hanging heavy in the room as you tried to process everything that had happened in just the past twenty-four hours. Something was still nagging at you; a question, an accusation that Joel had not offered the answer to even when you asked, and you turned to look back down at where he sat with his elbows resting on his drawn-up knees.

“Why are you here, Joel?” you repeated quietly, watching as he stiffened at the question, but you wouldn’t back down from it now that you had finally gathered the courage to ask. “Really?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, his fingers tapping against the top of his shin. After a long moment, when you were about to snap at him again for an answer, he slowly replied, “You ever heard of the term ‘friends with benefits’?”

You laughed, even as you felt surprise at your own amusement towards the unexpected, blunt terminology that left the older man’s lips.

“Yeah, that’s kind of what we are,” you muttered as you shifted off the bathtub, moving to sit down next to him on the bathroom floor. The cold of the tile bit into your bare legs, but you found that you didn’t mind much with Joel’s body heat radiating from where he sat close to you. 

His shoulder brushed against yours as he shrugged, but he didn’t make a move to pull away from you at the light touch.

“Well, it also implies something else,” he said quietly, and you watched him in confusion, brows furrowed when he gave no further clarification until he looked up at you. 

There was something honest in his gaze; something unspoken, unseen until now, and your heart skipped a beat as you suddenly heard what he left unsaid.

Friends.

You just stared at him for a moment, watching him as he watched you. You wondered what he saw there, what emotions were showing on your face that you couldn’t hide in your shock, before you quickly looked away.

And despite your better judgment, a small smile broke across your face as you thought the word over again.

Friends.

Joel Miller was your friend.

You didn’t know when it had happened, or even why it happened, but it had. There was no denying it now, not when he had implied it so heavily. Not when it was a term that made whatever it was growing between you finally make…sense.

There was nothing left to say, so you said nothing. You only stared down at his hands, looking at the old scars across his knuckles that had split open again, bruised and bloodied from when he had punched the hunter over and over before saving you.

Your face softened at the thought; this cold, ruthless killer who had somehow found it in his carefully guarded heart to save you, even going so far as to take care of you now.

You reached out to take his hand, pulling it towards you to rest in your lap before grabbing the washcloth. It was difficult, cleaning the old, reopened wound with one hand in a cast, but you managed.

"You're a fighter," you said quietly, brows furrowed in concentration as you avoided his gaze when it focused fully on the side of your face at your repetition of the words he had told you months ago, back when you still despised each other. "You should take care of your hands."

A silence fell over you when you finished cleaning his hand, and you placed it back in his own lap before letting the bloodied rag drop between you.

Neither of you said anything then, because you didn't know what to say. Something heavy was settling in the air, pressing around you, and you resorted to your usual deflection of humor to push back against it, gently nudging his shoulder with your own before glancing back at him from the corner of your eye.

“Don’t worry,” you said cheekily, making his eyebrow raise in question, and you held back a snicker at the sight as you added, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?” he asked, his voice revealing his confusion as he stared at you blankly, his stoicism not fading even at the revelation of friendship that neither of you mentioned directly.

You hummed, letting the question hang in the air for a moment, pretending to think it over as you crossed your arms.

“That you’re a big ol’ softie, Joel Miller,” you smirked, unable to help a laugh as he scoffs beside you.

A moment of quiet fell between you as your words lingered, before he finally responded.

“You better keep that secret,” he chided without any hint of malice, and you laughed again before glancing away from him, closing your eyes and keeping them shut even as you felt him watching you.

“On my life, cowboy,” you murmured, unable to keep the small smile off your face as his shoulder brushed against yours again, and the two of you fell into a silence more comfortable than any between you before as neither of you pulled away from the touch.

And as you sat in silence in the presence of Joel’s company—your friend —you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this.

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l chapter eight sneak peek

A/N: it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted an official sneak peek for this series. I was kind of surprised that most people voted for a snippet of this one, I really thought it would be the PD fic. But I’m glad that this lil series of mine is still one people want to read. There’s a few people out there rooting for these babies and to those few people: thank you for motivating me to see this one through to the end. Few more chapters to go!

*this is from the beginning of the chapter before shit starts to hit the fan so let’s enjoy the good while it lasts! also, I made sure to post a hefty snippet because this chapter is going for 9k 👀

“The water isn’t too hot, is it?” You asked, running the wet washcloth over his chest and neck, careful not to take it near his bandaged shoulder. Leaning over the side of the tub, a lock of hair fell loose out of your ponytail and Joel was quick to lift his hand out of the water, tucking it behind your ear.

“It’s perfect,” he murmured, his hand grazing your cheek, the water dripping off of his arm landing on your blouse, soaking through the material. “Looks like you’re gonna have to take that shirt off, Peach. I got you wet,” Joel couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his own terrible innuendo.

“Unbelievable! I just pulled a bullet out of you, and you’re already thinking of getting me naked?” You teased him with a little giggle. “Oh and by the way I hope you know that there will be none of that for a while, not until you’re all healed up. Got it?”

His face fell. “You serious? But you said it could be four to six weeks until my shoulder heals—how am I supposed to go that long without touchin’ you?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to survive, Miller.”

Joel grumbled incoherently under his breath.

Chuckling, you leaned over and pressed a delicate kiss to his right temple. Your lips lingered over the small jagged scar, causing him to shudder slightly.

“You were right about Ellie,” You murmured softly against his skin. “You were right to warn me about her.”

He frowned. “She confronted you ‘bout us?”

Pulling away from him, you nodded.

“Earlier at the stables, before Tommy showed up.”

Joel grimaced.

“Might regret askin’ this, but what did she say?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip.

“She wants me to leave Luke.”

He raised an eyebrow. “She did? What else did she say?”

“That the three of us could be a family. She said it wasn’t that complicated—all I had to do was pack up my things, take off the ring and leave him. Said I could move in here with you two.” You paused to let out a small, breathless laugh. “I told her I would love that more than anything in the world, but that it’s not possible. I can’t leave him.”

His jaw clenched. “Because he won’t let you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again.

Like father, like daughter.

Joel and Ellie were cut from the same damn cloth.

“Joel, I love you. And I love Ellie, too. You two have made me so, so happy,” You told him, softly. “Ever since I met you both, something in me changed. It was like I had forgotten what it felt like to love, and to be loved. That part of me, I thought it was dead and buried, but you two brought it back to life.”

“You belong with us, Peach. Your place is with us. Your home is with us, not with Luke.”

“I know,” You whispered. “I know that, Joel.”

Joel sat up straight in the tub, wincing slightly. He was really starting to feel the pain in his shoulder.

“Joel, stop. Come on, you need to take it easy.”

Placing your hands on his chest, you tried to push him back, but Joel’s hand reached up and caught one of your wrists, his fingers curling around it.

“Whatever you’re afraid of—”

“Joel, please,” You whispered, thickly. “Don’t.”

“You ain’t gotta be afraid, baby. I can protect you. I can keep you safe.” His thumb lightly caressed the thin, delicate skin on the inside of your wrist as his eyes met yours. “I can keep you safe. I wouldn’t let anythin’ bad happen to you. Neither would the kid. She loves you too damn much.”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat.

Lifting your wrist, Joel planted a gentle kiss on the inside of it, your pulse strong under his lips.

“Me and Ellie, you’ll be alright with us.”

A long, heavy sigh escaped you. “I know that.”

“Then? What’s stoppin’ you?”

You sighed again.

“Just—just give me time so I can figure things out, okay? If I have it my way, I’ll be living here with you and Ellie before winter comes around.”

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 2

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it)18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, light flirting, touching hands, hugs, cold/illness, light angst, a teensy bit of pining, teacher!reader (no specific details given in fic, it’s just your job from Before) a/n: This is Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice. I’ve done my best with the overall TLOU (show) timeline, but I can’t find a timeline that has the specific dates/months that Joel and Ellie passed through Jackson and returned. For the purposes of this fic they pass through in late November, 2023, and come back in April, 2024 (ish). Enjoy. :) word count: 7.4k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | chapter 1 || chapter 3

Chapter 2: Breaking the Ice

Jackson, Spring 2024

You’ve been in Jackson almost four months when Joel and Ellie return. You have a couple of friends, but it hasn’t really been long enough to establish yourself in the community. You’re a bit of a loner. You mostly talk to Tommy, Maria, and some of the others who work the same jobs you do. Tommy vouched for you, which seems to have given you a real in with some of the people here, but you have to put in the work.

You’re still floating, still trying to settle, and not at all ready to return to teaching. You know Tommy told Maria about what you did Before but neither of them have bugged you about it. The idea of walking into a classroom fills you with both longing and dread and for now you’re still avoiding it completely. You and Tommy have both been surprised at how much you like working outdoors – you were truly an indoors-only person Before. The first time he caught you standing in a pile of horse manure three months ago he doubled over laughing and almost fell in it himself. You’re still getting used to being around someone who knows you so well.

Maria is slowly warming up to you, but she’s been a little distant since she realized stories about what Joel (and Tommy, not that she seems to mind that part) has been up to in the last 20 years don’t seem to phase you. You aren’t good enough friends yet to tell her the things you’ve done, the things you regret and the things you don’t. It’s not like you’ve been an angel yourself. You’re not surprised to learn that Joel did whatever it took to protect people, to survive and save his last remaining family member. You can imagine who he became when he thought you were dead along with Sarah. It’s the same thing that happened to you, after all. The same transformation.

After that first meeting at the gates (when you barely said anything at all to each other before Tommy swept all three of you away, ignoring Ellie’s obvious curiosity and her elbow to Joel’s side as you stared at each other in the road, unmoving) you don’t get a chance to really talk with Joel for a couple of days. You get it – you know Joel, the Dad. He’s settling Ellie in and your heart clenches because you can remember what he was like with Sarah. You haven’t thought about Sarah this much in years. 

(That’s a lie – you think about her every single day. But not like this, with two people nearby who knew her, too. It’s different somehow and it’s making you feel things you thought you’d forgotten how to feel. It’s probably best for you to get over that feeling, that hurt, that initial reaction at a distance. You don’t want it to touch Ellie. She doesn’t know you.)

So Joel and Ellie move back into their house, which happens to be next door to yours because Tommy Miller will stop meddling when he’s dead. You don’t talk to Ellie that first day, but you and Joel make eye contact as he stands on his front porch and you stand in the road where Tommy just left you. His eyes are soft and dark and so familiar (and longed for) that it hurts. He takes a hesitant step towards you and speaks his first real words to you in 20 years. The sound of his voice still sends shivers down your spine.

“Can we– I can’t today, I’m sorry, I have to– Ellie–“

“I know, Joel,” you interrupt. “She needs to settle in, and she doesn’t know who I am. Take care of that first.” When you say his name you see it hit him and pin him in place. It was the same for you back at the gate. You drift a little closer to their porch steps.

“I’ve had a little bit longer to sit with the idea that– that you’re still alive. I’ve been here a few months. I’m not going anywhere, ok? We can talk later. Maybe in a couple of days?”

As you talk he’s searching your face and you feel yourself doing the same. Looking for the person you knew Before. At your offer, he looks relieved. 

“Yeah, darlin’. In a couple of days.” 

You can’t hide your reaction to the endearment or the feeling that washes over you, once-familiar and almost frightening as it echoes from Before. You think he might have surprised himself with it, too. When’s the last time he called anyone that? Maybe the last time you heard it. For a moment you just stare at each other.

It takes Ellie poking her head out the door to jumpstart you both back into action.

Joel heads inside and you head home, but you can hear her start to grill him about you as they close the door. (Who the hell is that?) It makes you smile.

…

You spend that night staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, completely unable to sleep. Joel is here, alive, probably 50 feet away from you and just knowing that keeps you awake. The following day you move from your house to work and back again in a daze, avoiding the dining hall, trying not to stare at their house or worry that Joel is avoiding you when you don’t see them. By the next morning, two mostly sleepless nights since Joel and Ellie walked through the gates of Jackson, you’re exhausted. You get dressed and find yourself standing in your front hallway, talking yourself down from going to lean on Tommy for some information. It’s only been two days, like 36 hours, get a fucking grip.

It’s convenient, then, that you’re so close to the door when someone unexpectedly knocks on it. As you open it, your heart leaps into your throat. 

Joel Miller is on your porch. He looks flustered and worried. You can tell he’s been running his hands through his hair – it’s messy and going every which way, just like it used to whenever he was anxious about something. The only difference now is the brown is shot through with gray. 

“Joel? Is everything alright?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth you feel a bit of deja vu, but you have no time to analyze the feeling before he steps towards you and you lose track of the thought at his proximity. You step back to let him in.

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I know we need to talk, but Ellie’s come down with something when we got back. I’ve been taking care of her. I didn’t want you to think I’ve been avoiding you.”

He’s twisting his hands together in front of him as he speaks and you notice one is shaking. You almost reach out to rest your hands on top of his to soothe him, but you stop yourself. You’re not ready to touch him like that and you doubt he’s ready to be touched. You clench your hands into fists and hide them behind your back instead. 

“Oh no, is she alright? Do you need anything?” 

You realize as you offer that you don’t know what help you, an outsider, could provide — everything is different than it was Before, when you would have been in the same house helping with the sick child from the start. You haven’t even really been around kids in years. It’s a weird feeling and you’re not sure what to do with it.

Joel shakes his head. “No, we’re fine, Tommy brought some things by yesterday and this morning, she’s already on the upswing.” He crosses his arms and sighs, looking down at the ground between you unhappily. “But I need to go talk to Maria and some others, and Tommy needs to be there with me, and, well. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind sitting with her for a bit?” 

He looks up at you from under his eyelashes, a hesitant look on his face. “Or, um, sitting in the house, just in case she needs something. She’s in bed, you could stay on the couch. I know you don’t know each other yet but I wouldn’t ask anyone else here to do this.” 

It doesn’t escape you that he said yet, that he implied you will get to know Ellie. It wakes something in you, something painful and raw and long-dormant, something you haven’t felt in 20 years. You have the sudden urge to run and hide and you twist your fingers behind your back, willing your feet to stay right where they are. It’s different somehow from the wave of emotion you felt a few months ago, sitting on the ground, tangled in your sleeping bag, shocked at the news that this man was still alive. It’s a feeling you’ve been running from since you realized Sarah must be dead. 

But you’ve basically never said no to this man, not about anything important. You aren’t going to start now.

“Of course, Joel. I’ll follow you over.” That feeling of deja vu is back, and you wonder if he isn’t feeling it too, as he tilts his head at you with a contemplative look on his face. He nods and thanks you and turns to go.

You suddenly realize you’ve been reading his expressions and mannerisms this whole time and you don’t seem to have lost your fluency with it. You wonder if he can still read you just as well, and if he can, what he’s seeing. You’re not sure, yourself. You can’t imagine what you’re giving away.

You shut the door behind him and take a moment, forehead resetting against the wood, to just breathe.

…

When you arrive at the house next door, Joel calls for you to come in from somewhere upstairs and you take a moment to look around. They haven’t even been there two days and they already have some belongings visible in the living room. The kitchen is in a bit of disarray, the way it normally gets when a kid is sick. That feeling that almost sent you running hits again, like an echo. You close your eyes against the memories of Sarah and you miss Joel reappearing at the top of the stairs until he calls your name softly. 

He’s stopped halfway down the stairs and beckons for you to follow him back up. You do and he leads you down the hall to what is clearly Ellie’s room – he goes straight in and sits beside her on the bed as you linger in the doorway.

“Ellie, this is—“ 

“I know who she is, Joel, you already told me,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes and then coughing a bit. The look of disdain she gives him is so classic teenager it takes your breath away. It’s so easy to recall Sarah doing the same thing. You can picture the same look on her face. 

You breathe slowly through it and hope your reaction doesn’t show. You smile, weakly. Ellie is stone faced in response, and she glances at Joel, looking to him to take the lead. He’s looking at you. You gather yourself. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie, I’m sorry you’re feeling shitty.” She looks a little amused at your description but she doesn’t laugh. She’s clearly wary of you, which is fair. “I’m just going to be downstairs on the couch, call if you need anything, ok?”

With that you turn and head back downstairs, and you can see the relief in her expression as you do. You’re also relieved. She’s not comfortable around strangers, and for you the role of babysitter is sitting uncomfortably on your shoulders like an old coat that you outgrew and haven’t touched in years. You imagine it’s worse for her when she’s not feeling great. 

You hear their low voices for a few minutes and then Joel reappears on the stairs, brow furrowed.

“Are you sure she’s ok with this? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” You have to ask.

He looks at you and his brow relaxes, softening a bit. “It’s fine. She’s done nothing but sleep and grill me about you for the last two days, coughing the whole time. She’s just not so great with strangers. I think her curiosity’ll take over, she always wants to know everything. Besides, she’ll probably fall asleep.” You nod as he moves past you towards the door. To your surprise, he reaches out to touch your arm, so softly and briefly you wonder if he even makes contact or if you’re imagining it. You shiver, resisting the urge to hug your arms across your chest. You know it would look like a rejection. “It should only be a couple of hours.”

“We’ll be fine, Joel.” Through the open front door you see Tommy waiting for him outside, and he nods and winks at you before he and Joel make their way towards the center of town. You roll your eyes in response.

…

You spend the first fifteen minutes after they leave sitting on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing. Something about this feels so much like Before it’s making you anxious, but you’re exhausted and you’ve spent 20 years burying or shying away from those memories. You can’t immediately recall why. When it gets to be too much you stand and head into the kitchen, looking for something to do with your hands. Thankfully there’s a pile of dishes waiting for you.

You’re almost done with the dishes, successfully avoiding thinking too hard about Before – or now, or anything at all – when you hear something and turn off the water to listen more closely. You hear your name called softly from upstairs and immediately dry your hands to go see what Ellie needs. 

When you arrive in her doorway she’s sitting up and fidgeting. 

“Hey, what do you need?” You put what is hopefully a neutral and helpful look on your face. You haven’t dealt with a teenager in decades but you remember well how they see through pretense. Sarah never turned down a chance to call any of you on your bullshit. 

She eyes you for a moment, glancing back at her lap where she’s gripping the blanket tightly, before saying, “Can I– Can I ask you some questions? About Before.”

Your eyes widen a little, you can’t help it, but you don’t want to shut her down. Before she can take your expression, whatever it is, as a rejection you say yes and move a little further into the room. She tenses.

“Sorry, I’ll stay over here. Can I get a chair?” She regards you silently for a moment, and then points to the corner to your right where you haven’t looked yet. There’s a chair with a jacket slung over the back. You nod and take a seat. 

“Ask away.”

She’s quiet for a moment, looking like she’s thinking. “So you were going to get married, Before. Right?”

You nod. “Right. Joel proposed in 2002, in December. He meant to do it on New Year’s Eve but he couldn’t wait and proposed early.” Ellie snorts, and then coughs a little bit. You keep yourself from moving towards her to hand her the glass of water on her nightstand. She doesn’t know you. And she’s a teenager, not a little kid. She’s older than Sarah. Don’t think about it.

“That sounds… romantic?” Her tone says that the idea of Joel doing something romantic is so outlandish as to be impossible.

You smile, a little bit sadly. “I know I’m different now, so I imagine he is, too. But he was always a huge romantic. We knew each other for a while before we actually got together, but once we were dating, it was like he couldn’t help it.” You’re suddenly glad you’ve had three months to think about him being alive. This conversation would have felt impossible when you first arrived in Jackson. Now it’s possible, just difficult.

“What, did he like, give you flowers?” The look on her face says she considers this unbelievable and slightly offensive, which reminds you so strongly of 13-year old Sarah you have to take a deep breath. You look away to make it seem like you need to think.

“No, well, he did a few times. But it was other things.”

“Like what?”

“He… well, he took me dancing. For our first date, and then pretty often afterwards.”

“Dancing?” She’s incredulous. “No way, I refuse to believe that old man can dance.” 

You can’t help but grin. “Yeah, dancing. That old man has moves.”

She scoffs and asks what else, clearly moving on from the dancing. For now, you assume.

“Well, we were both bad at remembering dates, but he never let an important date pass without doing something special anyway. He used to do little things for me before I even noticed they needed to be done, especially around the house. He never held back from telling me how he felt. He made it clear how important I was to him, and how much he liked having me in his life, by making space for me in it. I don’t know how much you want to hear about it, but … yeah, the man’s a romantic. No question.” You pause, and smile a little wryly. “Tommy can back me up, and his version’ll probably be way funnier. At our expense.” You feel something inside you start to thaw as you let yourself remember Joel this way.

Ellie looks like she's trying to hide a smile, which you count as a win. Then her expression shifts, and something makes you a little wary with how she sets her shoulders, readying herself to ask another question. 

“D'you want to get back together?” The look on her face says she isn’t sure that’s what she wants. Not at all.

You suddenly feel like you’re on a tightrope. You’re out of breath even though you haven’t moved an inch. You know you have to give the right answer here. But you aren’t even sure what it is for yourself, let alone for Ellie. Before you saw Joel at the gates you’d decided you wouldn’t let this second chance pass you by, but what does that actually mean, practically? For the people you are now?

“Ok, that’s a tough question, and no, I’m not blowing you off. I’m just going to be honest, ok?” You look down, lacing your hands together in your lap. 

“Joel and I were so in love, like head over heels for each other, 20 years ago. We both thought the other person died, and our kid did die. I’m… in shock right now. I think he is, too. I found out he was alive a few months ago, he found out I’m alive two days ago. Nothing feels straightforward or clear." You squeeze your hands together and clear your throat.

“I think we knew each other well enough to know what our lives might have been like in between, what we might have done. Or had to do. Maybe we imagined it sometimes. Um.” You pause to take a deep breath and glance up. Ellie is looking down at her hands. You can’t tell how this is going over with her but you keep going anyway.

“To answer your question… I never stopped loving him. He’s the love of my life. But I can’t say for sure what we’ll do until we talk, which we will at some point. It’s– it’s been too long to assume anything. To think everything is the same.” Your hands are shaking. You think you might be rambling, so you pause to get back on track.

“But that’s not the most important thing right now. You need to get better and you both need to settle in, you know? That’s his focus. As it should be. And I know he’ll talk to you about it. Whatever happens. I’m sorry I don’t have a– a clear answer.”

Your heart is beating fast as you finish. You can feel it in your throat.

Ellie is frowning as she meets your eyes again. She looks lost, her voice almost a whisper as she says, “I don’t… he has Tommy. And now you.” This admission clearly costs her, and she crosses her arms and looks away from you.

Suddenly you think you understand the conversation you’ve been having. You’re surprised and a little warmed by the fact that she was willing to say that to you at all. 

“Ellie, I might not know everything about what Joel’s life has been like for the last 20 years – not yet, anyway – but I do know what that man looks like when he’s being a parent.” You think you see her suck in a breath at your words. You swallow and continue, “it looks the same now as it did then. And yeah, you don’t know me, but I knew him, and going by my own experience? That part of him is still in there. I can see it. As far as that man is concerned, you’re his kid. No question about it. And that’s not something we take back. It just is, ok? It’s forever and it’s unconditional. I promise you, it never goes away. Not for us.”

…

After your conversation with Ellie, which you’re hoping went well but you’re honestly not sure, you’re completely wrung out and over your own feelings. You spend about 45 minutes puttering around the kitchen and living room to avoid feeling any more of them before you hear footsteps on the porch.

Joel opens the door, looking around and spotting you quickly. He looks worried, but his expression clears a little when he finds you sitting at the kitchen table. “Hey, everything alright?”

“Yes, everything's fine. She didn’t have another coughing fit, we chatted for a little bit and then she fell back asleep.” His eyebrows raise when you say you talked to Ellie. As he takes the seat across from you his boot nudges yours under the table and then moves away. You try to ignore the effect that tiny touch has on you. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It went well, I think? You’ll probably hear about it either way.” You finish with a little bit of a rueful smile, hoping she’s warming up to you and not the opposite.

Joel smiles a bit in response. “Thank you again, darlin’. I couldn’t put them off anymore and I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be here with her.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. 

“To be honest with you, I’m still in shock that you’re here for me to ask. I… well. It feels a little bit too good to be true.” He looks uncertain as he says it. You nod. You feel the same way.

“I know. I… it’s kind of surreal? I want…” you hesitate, but he’s watching you like nothing could be more important than how you finish that sentence. You decide to just let it all out. It’s worked for you so far today. 

“I know it’s been 20 years, Joel, but part of me has felt like everything is the same from the moment I saw you, which is confusing as hell, because the other part of me knows it can’t be and it isn’t. You don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t know what you’ve done. We’re not the same people. Even if it feels like it. Even if looking at you and hearing your voice feels—“ You clear your throat and look away. 

“Even if it feels the same. Even if I want… Even if…” you trail off, not sure if you’re ready to finish that sentence, after all. You realize you’re gripping your hands together so tight it hurts, and you slowly relax them and flatten them on the table in front of you. You take a breath before continuing, gaze trained on your hands. 

“It’s like we hit pause 20 years ago and neither of us knew for sure what happened so there was no closure, no clear explanation. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know how to bridge that time with now. How to remember that version of me, the one you knew, and be this me. How to… Joel, so much happened, and I imagined so many versions of you. What our lives would have been like.” You take a deep breath. “I guess that’s what we need to talk about.”

You look over, gaze low to avoid his eyes, and see Joel is clenching his fists a bit, like he’s holding back. You’d like to think it’s from reaching towards you but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t assume you’re reading him as well as you think you are. Maybe you need to spend more time reminding yourself of the things you don’t know about this man. 

Before your thoughts can spiral too far, though, he does reach out. You watch as his fists relax and you track the movement of his hand as it lifts from the table and slowly extends towards yours. He’s trembling, you notice, and then you realize you are too. You can’t tear your eyes away as his fingertips lightly touch the back of your left hand where it rests on the table. You feel all of the hair on your arms stand up in response. 

“Darlin’, I…” he pauses, and you both hold your breath as your eyes meet. 

Time slows to a crawl. He puts more gentle pressure into your connection, sliding his hand over the back of yours, touching you with intent for the first time in two decades. His thumb moves lightly back and forth over your wrist, a soothing motion. All of your focus narrows to that point of connection, even as his gaze pins you in place. You can’t look away. 

Holy hell. His hand fully covers yours and squeezes. After the two barely-there touches you’ve shared today it feels almost obscene. His hand on yours in the present calls up memories of his hands on you Before and you're dizzy, spinning through your memories. You didn’t know you could still feel this way. Not even for Joel. 

He opens his mouth to say something and your gaze drops to his lips. You’re desperate to hear it, whatever it is, when suddenly the moment pops like a soap bubble as the more annoying Miller sticks his head in the front door.

“Joel! I brought food. Oh! Hey there, sunshine.” He greets you, and then grins at you. “Am I interrupting something?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, which is so absurd it kickstarts you back into motion. You need to get out of here. 

“No!” You say a bit too loudly as you leap to your feet, breaking your connection with Joel. You feel its absence immediately. Your hand is tingling. “I should get going, I don’t want to intrude and I want Ellie to be comfortable so she can get better. Joel, I– do you want–“

He interrupts you and catches your eye to hold you in place, but he doesn’t move his hands from the table. “Yes, I do.” You’re glad he does. You aren’t actually sure what you were going to ask, but at least you’re in agreement about it, whatever it is. “We still need to talk. I’ll find you tomorrow?”

You nod, a bit wildly. “I’ll be at the stables all day but I should be home around four.” He smiles at you, starting to stand, and you make a beeline for the door, elbowing Tommy a bit as you pass him. He makes a big show of staggering away, moaning and overselling it, but he deserves it anyway.

As you turn onto the road, you can’t help but glance back at the house you’ve just left. The sight that greets you stops you in your tracks – Joel is leaning against his own open door frame, arms crossed, looking pensive as he watches you walk home. 

Suddenly it hits you, your tired mind finally recalling the reason for all of the deja vu, and your spine stiffens as you inhale quickly in surprise. You almost call out to ask Joel if he remembers. He has to, right? It’s basically what got you together Before and the similarities are almost too much for you to believe. Your eyes move down and back up, looking around the porch, taking him in. All it took to break the tension the first time around and get you to actually start something together was a sick kid.

As you meet his eyes again you’re sure that you’re both remembering it. He can see your moment of realization, and after that moment in the kitchen, you know he can still read you. The expression on his face is complex but you see affection and regret, weighed down by all the memories you share. He tilts his head and smiles at you, a bit ruefully. You smile in response, hugging your arms around yourself. 

All of your nerves and your worries about your upcoming conversation fall away – you still have enough in common with this man that you can have this conversation, without words, 20 feet apart. 20 years apart.

A moment ago you felt like the last few hours had scraped to the bottom of your emotional reserves and left you empty. But the smile you and Joel share sparks something inside you and you’re filled with a sweet, tentative anticipation that you barely know what to do with. It’s been years since you felt anything like it. 

Tomorrow.

…

Austin, Spring 2001

You were setting your coffee down on your desk, mentally starting your to-do list, when you were surprised by a knock at your front door. 

A peek through your curtains revealed your neighbor, Joel Miller, pacing agitatedly on your front porch. 

Ever since you met on the day you moved in almost six months ago Joel had been nothing but welcoming. And from the moment you met his eyes that day you knew you were in trouble. 

In some ways, you were typical, friendly neighbors. You saw the Millers almost every day, if only to wave at each other from your driveways on busy mornings. You’d been over to babysit Sarah for a short afternoon or evening a few times. They even had you over for a welcome-to-town dinner early on and you’d traded dinner at each other’s homes about once a month after that. 

But what was going to get you in trouble was Joel the Handyman. He did end up fixing some of your bookshelves after the movers broke them – stop apologizing, darlin’, I told you I’m happy to help – which led to him fixing more and more things around your house. Every time he came over to fix something he would spot another creaky cabinet door or leaky faucet or crooked light fixture and promise to come back another day to take care of it. You’d swear he came over to fix something every week. At this point you were surprised there was anything left to fix. 

You always sat nearby while he worked and the two of you talked about anything and everything – whatever funny thing your students had done that week, how Sarah was doing (with school and with soccer and with everything else), Joel’s frustrations at work, Tommy’s latest escapades. Sometimes it felt like Joel knew more about you and your day-to-day life than anyone, since your friendships at work were still new and you’d moved far away from everyone who knew you at home when you took this job. You always ended up talking for much longer than it took Joel to finish whatever task he’d had in mind, usually sitting together on your back porch or at your kitchen table until he absolutely had to go. 

(His visits also gave you the opportunity to watch him work – to watch him flex his shoulders and arms and to admire the muscles in his back and thighs, (mostly) unnoticed. You’d feel bad about it if you hadn’t caught him with his gaze locked on your legs in your house shorts more than once. And then there was the time he’d come over to fix the ceiling fan – he’d climbed a ladder in your living room while you stood nearby to hand him his tools. His chest had been only a foot or so away from your face and when he’d raised his arms his t-shirt had lifted far, far above his jeans. You’d lost track of the conversation, eyes locked on the dark trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his exposed briefs. You’d vaguely thanked whatever deity might be out there that he had forgotten to wear a belt that day. As he stood on his toes and shifted his hips his jeans had slipped a little lower, showing you just a hint of an outline of something you had to stop yourself from picturing. You’d gone quiet, distracted and far away until he coughed lightly and your eyes shot back up to his face. 

“Still with me, darlin?” He’d smirked at you, knowingly, but had gotten right back to work after, continuing the conversation like nothing had happened.)

It felt like you were always catching each other trading looks. The flirtation you’d started that day next to the moving truck hadn’t turned into anything more, but it also hadn’t faded into anything less.

Pacing on your porch that morning, Joel looked as handsome as always, but he was clearly distressed. His normally only somewhat unruly curly hair stood on end as if he’d been tugging at it.

“Morning Joel, something I can do for you?” you asked as you swung the door open and invited him in. Despite how frequently he’d been in your home to fix things it was still a surprise to see him before 8:00 AM on a Tuesday. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, darlin’, but I’m in a bit of a bind. Are you working from home today?” Joel asked as he stepped inside. 

“Yes, is everything alright?” It was clear that Joel was trying to be polite but something was making him more anxious than you’d ever seen him. He was alternately twisting his hands together or running his hands through his hair as he shifted his weight. 

“It’s Sarah. She—“

“Oh no, what happened?”

“She’s just sick, so she can’t go to school but Tommy can’t be here today and I have to go to a job site for a couple of hours. I managed to reschedule some meetings but not everything. Could you possibly come work over at mine for a bit, keep an eye on her? She’ll probably sleep the whole time, you know, but I just don’t want her to be alone, she’s not old enough yet–”

“Joel, of course, I’d be happy to,” you cut him off, trying to reassure him with a smile. “Take your time, I’ve just got a day of grading and reading planned. I can be there for her if she needs me.”

The look of sheer relief that broke across Joel’s face surprised you as he leaned forward, grabbing your shoulders and resting his forehead against yours. Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Oh thank you so much, darlin’. I swear I’ll call as soon as I’m on my way back. Do you need help grabbing anything?” 

As he stepped back Joel raised his left hand and trailed his thumb across your cheek lightly, almost so light you couldn’t feel it, then brushed his fingertips down your neck. You felt your focus narrow to the point where he touched your face before he stepped away, putting more space between you. Your whole body shivered. This is not the time for that. You blinked a few times.

“Oh, um, no I’ve got it. I’ll pack up and be there in a minute.” Get it together. 

…

About 10 minutes later you were raising your hand to knock at the Millers’ front door when Joel flung it open in front of you and invited you in. 

“Sarah’s back asleep upstairs,” he said in a low voice, “but I woke her up when I got back to let her know you’re here. Feel free to set up wherever you’d like. You can check on her in about an hour – I wrote down what meds she’s had and when she can have them again over here on the counter. I’ll call you in a couple of hours. But call me if you need anything at all, ok? And if she gets worse. And you know where everything is, I know–“

“Joel. Don’t worry, we got this.” You smiled and reached out to squeeze his upper arm, trying to reassure him. 

“I know you do, I know, it’s just—“ he looked worriedly up the stairs before he sighed, shoulders dropping a little, and quickly rubbing his hands over his face. He started to turn towards the door. 

“I know, Joel. It’s Sarah. But I got this, ok? I’m here for you.”

Joel paused, midway through his turn towards the door, and looked back at you. He tilted his head as he considered you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“I know, darlin’. You always are.” He said, almost too quietly for you to hear. “I’ll —“

“You’ll call me, I know. Now get out of here, Joel Miller.” You pointed playfully at the door. Joel cracked the first weak smile you’d seen on him all morning, nodded his head, and left. 

…

You’d been working your way through your students’ papers for about 45 minutes when there was some movement upstairs. You quickly set everything down on the couch and moved towards the stairs. “Sarah? Are you awake, sweetheart?” You heard a quiet response but couldn’t quite make it out, so you headed up the stairs to check on her.

You found Sarah sitting on her bed, looking a bit woozy and still mostly asleep. “Hi. I have to pee but I’m kinda dizzy.” Her voice was soft and scratchy and she sounded congested.

“Let me help you. I’ll get you some water after, alright? And you can have more medicine and get back to sleep until lunch.” Sarah nodded sleepily and leaned on you as you moved towards the bathroom together. 

“This is kinda embarrassing,” she said softly, and you laughed. 

“More embarrassing than the Great Tampon Panic of 2000?” You nudged her softly with your elbow and she laughed, and then coughed. 

“Don’t make me laugh! No, nothing can beat the way dad lost it that day.”

You smiled, knowing you were probably both remembering Joel’s panicked sprint to your house over the summer when Sarah got her first period and the ensuing chaos. You had been living next door for about a month and you were all more comfortable around each other after that. 

After a successful, if slow, bathroom trip, you got Sarah another dose of her medicine and tucked her back into bed. “I’ll be right downstairs, ok? I’ll check on you again soon.” You ran your hand lightly over her forehead and hair to soothe her, but also to see if she was warm. She didn’t feel hot under your hand. Sarah nodded and was soon asleep once again. 

…

Joel didn’t manage to call until about two hours later. 

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, I wanted to call an hour ago but I got caught up. How’s my girl?”

“She’s alright. We had a short bathroom break and another round of cold meds and she’s asleep again. I updated your note.”

Joel sighed, sounding more tired than you’d ever heard him. “I'm hoping to leave in the next half hour, so I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“We’ll be here.”

…

Much later, around dusk, you were finishing up a stack of assignments when you heard a key in the front door. You set everything aside and turned to see Joel quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Welcome back.”

“Hey, darlin’, how’s she doing?” he asked, setting his keys on the table by the door and stopping to remove his boots. 

“She’s been asleep since she had some toast around lunch time. I peeked in there about 15 minutes ago but she was still out.”

He sighed, and looked towards the stairs, brow furrowed and clearly worried. “I was hoping she’d sleep it off.”

“She could still be doing that. When I did talk to her earlier she was groggy but still herself – she told me not to make her laugh because it made her cough.” You smiled a little. “And she didn’t have a fever when I checked a little while ago.”

Joel nodded and turned back to look at you. “Even when she feels terrible she’s still a force of nature. I can’t thank you enough, darlin’. I know it was a lot, and it took me longer than I hoped, but–“

“Joel, it was fine.” You cut him off. “It wasn’t a lot, it wasn’t even that long at all, and I did just what I would have done anyway.” You tilted your head towards your stack of graded papers on the couch. Joel turned fully towards you, hands on his hips, and tilted his head while he considered you. The unreadable face was back.

“You look mighty comfortable over there.”

“Oh sorry, let me clean up—“

“No, darlin’, that’s not what I meant. No need to rush out. It’s a good thing. You look good. Over there, I mean. Um.” He smiled at you, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, looking a bit sheepish. You knew what you wanted that to mean but you weren’t sure he meant it that way. Did you look good, or look good here, comfortable on his couch, in his home? You felt your face start to warm as you smiled at each other.

“Can I help with anything before I go?” You ducked your head a little and started shoving your papers into your bag. 

“No, I’ve got it. I’d invite you to stay for dinner as thanks, but I don’t think anyone in this household will be much company today. Next week, ok? Come over for dinner, maybe Sunday? Give her some time to get better first.” He took a couple of steps towards you, watching as you packed up your things. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Joel–“

“Come for dinner,” he interrupted you, catching your eye. “Please.”

You stood and found yourself only a foot or so away from him, which didn’t help you calm your reaction to him. “Ok, ok, you know I’d love to.” You smiled and Joel smiled in response. “I don’t need convincing.”

Looking satisfied, Joel turned and led the way to the door. You grabbed your bag and followed, noticing he was standing a little taller than he had been that morning.

You started to move past him towards the door, but before you could, Joel suddenly reached out and pulled you into a hug. You found yourself with your arms circling his waist as he placed one hand securely at your lower back and used the other to gently cup the back of your head. You pressed your face to his shoulder. So quietly you almost missed it, he whispered, “Thank you again, darlin’. I was still worried, of course, but I felt so much better knowing it was you here with my girl all day.”

You couldn’t help it – you sank into his arms a little, returning the hug tightly. “It’s never a problem, Joel. You know I love that girl.”

You felt more than heard a little hitch in his breath as he paused before slowly stepping out of the embrace. “Yeah, I reckon I do. We’ll see you Sunday, right? Let’s say 6.”

“I’ll be here.” You smiled, touched his forearm briefly, and headed out the door. 

You felt his eyes on you the whole way to your front door, and glanced back as you dug out your keys to find him leaning against his own door frame, watching you. When he saw you turn he smiled a little and raised a hand to wave, finally ducking inside his own house only when you did the same. It felt like something had shifted. Something more was brewing between the two of you.  

Sunday. 

...

a/n: see you next Sunday for chapter 3! I decided not to split this or the next one half, so the next chapter has parts in Jackson and in Austin. Also, fun fact - this Austin section for chapter 2 was the first part of this fic I wrote, back in April.

Tag list:

@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos

chapter 3 is posted!

[missmarveledsblog]

It's never the end only a new beginning ( joel miller x reader)

summary : maria and the doctor show up , our girl is in a bad way but it doesn't stop joel clinging to a new feeling of hope and a chance to do what he should of done long ago

warnings: angst , fluffy fluff

continuation of the last part : is it the end ?

How could the world do this , how could it give him this woman and now he held her in his arms , limp and cold he felt like it was a cruel joke . This strong woman who only just wanted to live a  peaceful life and help them . He had to watch another person he loved slip away before he even got the chance to fully have her. Joel couldn’t hear anything , he couldn’t hear the chaos just outside the doors of the abandoned warehouse , he couldn’t hear tommy sniffled trying not to break down at sight of his friend , he also couldn’t hear the sound of maria calling out to them or tommy’s calls back in reply. Everything was quiet   all his senses were on her . he told her he’d always be there so even if it meant so she wasn’t alone in the end as much as it broke his heart he was there. 

He almost bit tommy head off and the docs when they took him away  till he said there was a light pulse but they need to move her , joel never felt something like the feeling growing within him , not in such a long time it was so foreign  but in this moment in time, it was was welcome it was hope. A chance to not let it go to waste they moved her to the truck doc used if someone got hurt on patrol. The  whole time he held her , listened and followed each instruction that was thrown his way. Anything joel miller could do in his power to strengthen that hope that was building in his soul he did. Tommy and maria both shared worried glances it didn’t look good  , it hadn’t looked good the moment she fell to that damned floor . yet in all the madness she was so proud to face the demon of her past to stand up to him . that tired smile on her face before her eyes closed would be in the star of Joel's dreams no matter what the outcome was to happen . 

The drive maybe was  , no it was definitely the longest 20 minutes of his life. Each second felt like an hour , the battle against time it’s self to get her back to the clinic back where doc could do his time properly being an universal donor too meant fully joel could help give blood if needed , hell he’d give anything to give his life for hers if he could in that moment . when they saw the gates of jackson well he’s never been so happy to see them in his life  they drove straight to the clinic where they had the gurney waiting ready to talk her in the whole town watched her pale lifeless limp body being wheeled in and the door closing with a thud . although at first she never minded to be part of the town more just a shell of a person that was there to live, do the job she was giving well she slowly became one of them , slowly she indoctrinated into the community that now stood hoping they weren’t going to lose one of their own .  she was wheeled into the back room  as joel sat letting the docs apprentice take the blood from his arm before heading into the back room as he sat waiting ,  he even prayed something he had never done in such a long time and yet he sat and prayed like it was part of his daily routine  , that he's been doing it all his Life . He would do anything that would help in any instance that meant she was ok. He felt a pair of Eyes on his frame , he knew exactly who Those eyes were . He couldn't turn if he did  weak or not  he would kill the man that betrayed Them , betrayed her . Joel could understand why mark done it and he could sympathize with the man losing his family but yet same time all that sympathy and understanding was  washed out when joel blinked , cause even in such a short span of time his eyes closed all he could see was y/n in pain , almost dead in his arms.  Happiness was a rarity and that could be gone forever as hypocritical as it would seem joel could not be on the mans side at this very moment but if he could he would be his end . 

It must of been hours by the time he was woken , he didn’t even realize   he had gone asleep til the doc shook him awake and he’d seen the sun beginning to rise  signaling the new day. The doc looked completely exhausted and yet  joel couldn’t care less in his selfish need to know , to know  how she was  , if she was. 

“ she stable it was up and down all night but we were able to stop the bleeding , she is lucky  and by lucky i mean a divine miracle this woman is still a live i have not seen a fighter like her in such a long time”  the tired smile upon the elderly mans face spoke volumes  to his shock he felt himself being pulled into a hug something the man would of put down to his tired mind playing tricks on him to think  joel giving physical Affection and yet here he was . “ you can see her  , she still out cold might be a while before she wakes up” the elderly man nodded heading to the stair of clinic  so he could rest for a little bit . 

When he walked looking at the outdated Equipment and wires sticking out of her the iv hanging up ment it was bad to us such scarce supplies . He stood looking both afraid and yet dying to touch her , hands twitching at his sides when He pulled the chair to her side of the bed . He watched as her chest had steady rise and fall , how serine and peaceful she looked laid out in the bed . she was so pale  yet so lifeless even in all that she looked beautiful almost ethereal like an angel had come straight into his life . this quiet woman who did her own thing then started opening up getting to know them all  , then she finally started getting  out of the protective shell she built around herself .  she was a storm to be reckon with everything in life that should of torn her down didn’t  and she got back , she was born into a shirt storm and somehow she was like a rainbow  making it less dull .  all she had to do was smile and instantly his day felt so much better and it scared the shit out of him but it scared him more never seeing the smile again. She was something he never expected , someone he never thought he deserved but like everything else she made him think different made him believe he could be happy with out doing much but just existing. She was something spectacular more than she really knew and he was going to make sure when she was better he was going to make sure she knew that whether  she share the same feeling as him or not .  

He stayed by her side  the whole days and nights she was there ,  with ellie bringing his meals to him and spare clothe so he could change even staying by y/n side while he went to get changed .    he watched as the doctor check her over and every time the nurse done literally anything .  He talked about everything and anything hoping she could hear him , know she wasn’t alone , letting her know he meant his words she was never going to feel alone again .  it was little at first  felt like his mind was playing tricks on him as he was dosing off til he felt it again that weak squeeze in on his finger making him shoot up , like a cold water waking him completely when he look to see she was beginning to stir with a groan and moan . her eye trying to open but the sting of the light kept them closed for a little before they slow opened more and more . the confusion on her face was almost the most adorable thing he had seen if he wasn’t so happy in that moment finally once his prayer where answer by divine miracle she was a wake  and alive. 

“ joel?” she croaked almost unbelieving she was in the land of the living she was it was it. She was so sure  once her eyes closed in that warehouse that she wasn’t going to make it out and here she was laying in the clinic back in jackson with joel miller sitting at her side . he was smiling  , he looked so happy yet so tired looked like he’d barely slept. “Joel?” she asked again trying to move only to feel the pain shoot at her side for the sudden action.

“ woah easy darling slowly” he rushed to help her sit up , handling her with such gentle and loving touch. “ you scared me little shit don’t do that again” he grumbled putting the blanket on her more  making sure she was comfortable hell he was thinking of taking the ones off mark if she needed them . 

“ i don’t have any other husbands so i think the possibility of me doing this again are low” she smiled weakly ignoring the look joel was giving her . 

“ not what i meant also you aint funny , i almost lost you “ he held her hand tightly in his , she didn't miss  the slight waver in his voice and how raw his words were . the way he was looking at her all the emotion she felt through the simple action she leaned over and kissed his chest hiding the pain she was in from doing such before laying back against the pillow. 

“ can’t kill a good thing… ok last joke” she laughed making his face soften . “ how the hell am i still alive” she asked . 

“ by a miracle or stubbornness either way we’re grateful your still here little missy” doc called walking over checking her over. “  you gave us a scare but like a common pattern lately being full of surprise” he smiled . “ maybe i can have my clinic back … oh not you dear   it him watching me like a damned hawk” he chuckled . 

“ i ain’t watching you like a hawk” joel flushed  crossing his arms pretending that the docs words weren’t the absolute truth. 

“ yeah i think your lying doc his eyes not too good with age” she smirked as joel glared at her playfully. “I’m joking… a little bit ” she giggled loudly again instant turning him into mush .  her laughter , her smile they could instantly melt his frowns and glares away  with the melody and warmth that came along .

“ yeah yeah  seems as she definitely ok with all these so called jokes” joel muttered only for her turn to narrow her eyes at him and cross her arms although she never once let go his hand . she honestly was scared to like if she did it would of been a dream . that same fear  of thinking that joel was going to magically disappear , she had that feeling in the warehouse when she thought it was her end , frankly she would fully admit never seeing joel miller would be her personal hell. She couldn’t believe once in her life luck was on her  side and her she was a second chance to live life without a worry of the monster plaguing her in the back of her mind and she had joel in her life once more. He didn’t know how much she owed him since their first patrol to everything that happened after. He gave her life before he was fully ingrained in her life all she did was simply survive day to day now well before she almost died she was living  opening herself to people again , having a family again whether she could admit to that out loud  or not but ever since joel miller came into her life she’s been living every day since. 

“ y/n ?” the doc looked at her seemly waiting on some sort of response she was too deep in though to even know what she was to respond to . 

“ doc was saying you could go home when your up to it although it on strict bedrest” joel said softly seeing the confusion written all over her face. “ she’ll be staying at ours so we can help her , just let me know when you wanna check her over and i’ll have her here” joel easily answered for her barely even let her think of away to get out of the whole thing maybe he was running before he could walk but fuck it anyway he could have her close was fine by him .

“Well how  am i supposed to get to you house giving i can’t even move in this bed” she mused only  for joel to stand a stick his hand under her legs and the other on her back lifting her up in his arms making her yelp at the suddenly tug in her arm.

“ patience would do you world of good” doc gruffed taking the IV from her arm as the older man apologized although he was behaving like a love struck teenager as he carried her out of the room taking the blanket off the bed wrapping it around her and out of the clinic before her eyes could even see mark still laying in the bed. He was carrying her home , his home but hopefully if he didn’t screw up maybe her home some day .  she smiled tiredly waving to people who both looked stunned and yet so happy to see her alive and somewhat well even if joel wasn’t giving into stopping he was  moving fast to get her out of the cold and into the comfort of home. The minute the door opened her head saw the two girls pull apart at the sudden intrusion . both standing on their feet making it like they weren’t doing anything although the shit eating grin on y/n face told ellie she was definitely caught not that the teenage could even care seeing her friend alive and awake and a little confused when joel continue walking heading up the stair making a b line to his room as they followed. 

“ jesus miller calm your ass” she snorted as joel put the blankets over her and heading out the room as the girl walked in. “ guess i’m staying here til i’m all healed up” she looked up only for ellie to hug her tightly , she could feel the wet tears soak into her shoulder making her wrapped her arms tighter around the girl . “ hey i’m ok” she said only for dina do join now both crying holding her on the bed and y/n to join in .  “ i’m not leaving ok can’t get rid of me” she sniffled lift both girls faces up to look at her . she wiped their tears away. 

“ i thought i was never going to see you again” ellie finally said . “ i can’t lose more family” she added .

“ your not going to i’m like a cat with shit ton of lives like a magic cat” she wiped her own tears as they laughed. “  your kinda stuck with me” she winked as joel walked by into the room handing her a cup of water and some tissues as they each took one . 

“ least now he won’t be so much of a grump too i think he was driving doc crazy over there ,  i’m pretty sure that nurse was going to cry too” ellie teased and joel shoved her a little trying  to shut her up only making the girls laugh more. “ dare they hurt the woman he loved even if she was unconscious” she laughed as y/n stopped her eye widened at the girls words as dina hit ellie arm making her realis what she just said . “ on that note i  think tommy told asked me to do something so good to see you live and kicking” she almost left a shadow outline with how fast she moved out of the room as dina gave them a quick goodbye before following just as fast. 

“ joel?” she looked up  at the man not sure of what else to  truly . the adoration she felt and love she felt there was a chance of it being reciprocated which made her definitely start to question if she was truly alive. She felt the dip in the bed and his hand on her almost afraid to look up incase he would tell her he loved her like a friend or worse his daughter or something giving the gap in their ages. Then she felt his other hand under her chin lifting her head to look at him . 

“ not way i was hoping it would be said, actually i would of rather been the one to say it but darling ellie isn’t lying i think i was that clinics worse nightmare these last few days , i surprised i wasn’t gonna be kicked out but even then i wouldn’t have left” he smiled  those brown eyes filled with something she only seen her mother looking at her father . that pure unfiltered raw love she only dreamed of and yet here it was the reality real time she could see it . “that first patrol hell even before then you had me hook if im truly honest but that first patrol was when i knew it for sure  and every day after it just grew to point i thought it could grow anymore and it did , when i thought you died shit i died too life just didn’t make sense if you weren’t in it , i didn’t think i of all people would get a chance to feel this kind of love and thats what it i am so in love with your darling” it was like a dam broke and every word bursting and flowing free as she let it surround her and drowned in ever syllable .

“ when i was little girl my mama told me of stories , the princess trapped in a tower and knight coming to her rescue  , him being so in love with her that he would risk his own life i thought i felt that before but i don’t think i love you joel” she said softly as his head fell . “ i never had to think that i loved you because i know i love you ,  i’ve always known and weirdly enough i wasn’t afraid to die because it was end of my life i was scared because i was…” she said only for rest of what she had to say cut off by joel’s lips crashing on her instantly with no hesitation she kissed him back . it was like everything she was searching for was all found there and then. Fireworks , sunshine and rainbows feeling that stirred within her , feeling alone to now completely loved it was beyond her wildest dreams .  she could feel the fire burning in her lungs screaming for air and yet she felt herself fighting it because she need him more til he pulled back holding her face in his hand he rested his forehead against her. Their eyes locked in some sort of bubble they didn’t hear the front door open nor the noise of the footsteps on the stairs . 

“ well i was checking to see if the little lady was ok but i guess she is” that smirk filled voice when they looked up to see tommy and maria standing looking at the both of them .  “ hey look she got some color to her cheek but then again so does my big brother” tommy laughed . 

“ good to see you too tommy” she squeaked out only for her to cough to try fix her voice.

“ i am beyond happy to see this but she aint in any condition to be doing this big brother” he snorted only barely dodging the pillow heading towards him . “ jokes aside it’s good to see you kiddo” he smiled genuinely .

“ yeah means he’ll stop crying” maria smirked . “ sorry both of em crying” she added ignoring how both brothers were looking at her or how she pushed joel out of the way to hug her.

“ you know what i’m man enough to admit it , i thought i lost one of my good friend , my best friend i already called it so sorry sweetheart” tommy smiled, hugging her next.  

“ i suppose i could have a worse best friend i’m glad i ain't dead though  , live irony of finally finding family only for it to be taken from me , maybe the universe ain’t such a cruel bitch like i thought it was plus when i’m better i know theres another person in town that needs me” she said finally looking at maria. “ you think maura’s ok to watch charlie til i’m better” she asked. 

“ wait really?” she asked excitedly . 

“ yeah hell i’m more sure now then i was before even if i was going to say yes either way” y/n nodded. 

“ we can squeezed em in here , i’m sure ellie won’t mind sharing her room” joel smiled kissing her head.

“ it’s only til i’m better” she rested her head on his chest not wanting his touch to leave even if it was for a second . 

“ yeah we see about that , bring em by when you get the chance” joel turned to the other two as they shook their heads laughing . 

“ i’ll bring him by tomorrow or next day let you get yourself some rest first and well tell ellie of her new roommate too” maria snorted . 

“ we’ll leave you love birds alone and come back later although kept it pg , she ain’t up to much strenuous activities and neither is his back” tommy called as he lead maria out of the room and dodging another pillow coming for his head.  “ we’ll get you a do not disturb sign too” he called up the stairs before they heard him running out the door. 

“ your brother is an ass” y/n flushed as joel stood heading to the door only to shut it. 

“ hey he’s your best friend” he chuckled walking back to the bed getting in the other side holding her gently to her side  kissing her head as he felt her yawn , he could see she was fighting the sleep rubbing her back til he seen her eyes closing and tired little “i love you” falling from her lips. 

“ i love you too darling and it’s only the beginning of me showing you” he smiled kissing her head before his own eyes fell closed . it was the start , the middle and a new beginning of feeling at peace having the woman he loved most in his arms.

taglist : @vickie5446 @harriedandharassed

[j0elmill3r]

Wish You Were Here (I); Shine On You Crazy Diamond

"Nobody knows where you are, how near, how far"

Pairing - Joel Miller x Daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x Niece!Reader, Ellie Williams x Miller!Reader (Platonic)

Summary - Witnessing your fathers' demise at the hands of the daughter of a man he killed saving your best friend, you realize your crusade for revenge for your fathers brutal death is bound to be a bloody one.

Warnings - Diverges from canon, spoilers for the last of us part 2, canon violence, death, mentions and implications of suicide (Please let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count - 3k

A/N - Here is an introduction to my new series! It's gonna be split into 4 parts, all titled in relation to the Pink Floyd album - Wish You Were Here. I hope everyone enjoys this, as always, feedback is always appreciated with reblogs, likes and comments! This is also such a divergence from canon it's genuinely unbelievable.

Joel Miller Masterlist

Growing up smack bam during a global pandemic was not all it had cracked up to be. You weren't old enough to remember the world before the infection had ruined it, being only 3 years old at the beginning of the pandemic meant you had no recollection of your life before this world - It also mean that you had no memories of your older sister, Sarah. Joel, however, told you stories of your older sister, how much she loved you and how at every birthday, she used her wish to beg for a little sister.

You were incredibly close to your father - Despite how tough he was on you as you started getting older, you knew he was just looking out for you, teaching you essential survival skills that you would need if you wanted to live in this new, dangerous world. But even though he was tough on you, you still saw his softer and father like self. He took care of you when you were sick, told you shitty jokes when you were sad just so he could see you smile - You were the reason he missed his shot. You had walked in on his room as he held his gun to his head, fear displayed on your small face, causing him to move his hand away as his hand acted before his fingers, pulling the trigger and narrowly missing his skull. The hearing in his right ear had completely depleted, but you were crying blue murder, and your dad was the only person who could console you - He was all you had and he wanted to leave you all on your own. Which was why you took it so personally when someone had informed you of the trouble that your dad, uncle, and best friend were in.

The place was silent as you quietly made your way down the long halls of the mansion you found yourself in, following the noise to a specific room, to which the door was left slightly ajar - which should have been your first red flag. It was like someone wanted you to go to that room specifically for whatever reason. Ignoring your gut instinct, you crept towards the door which was partially open, but before you could take in what was in the room, you let out a scream as you were suddenly tackled to the floor, grunting as your head hit off of the solid concrete with a thud that resonated throughout your skull. You weren't quite sure how you had ended up on a rescue mission to attempt to save your dad, uncle, and your best friend Ellie - who's falling out with your father had resulted in you too falling out with the girl who had expected you to side with her instead of your own father. As you were pinned to the floor, your heart stopped at the sight in front of you, it felt like all the air had been sucked out from your body as your jaw lay open in shock.

Your father lay on the ground, covered in blood, a woman standing beside his barely breathing self, holding a golf club dripping with his blood. She turned to you, looking you dead in the eyes as she crouched down in front of your, her cold eyes meeting your tear filled ones. Despite the tears in your eyes, you maintained your tough façade that you thought to be unbreakable, but you feared this would be what broke your tough and hardened exterior, the one that you had adopted from your father as you grew to realise the world you lived in was not one that would be kind to your child-like self.

"I'll fucking kill you, you hear me?!" You yelled at the girl in front of you, it was both a threat and a promise. She scoffed as she shook her head, standing back up and going back towards your father, listening as you grunted as the men restraining you forced you to watch, putting pressure on your neck as they knelt on it; partially cutting off your airways.

Your glassy eyes met Joel's tired ones, they were almost empty, vacant - if not for his increasingly shallow breathing, you would have already mistaken him as dead. "No, dad, please get up," You begged your father, your hardened exterior cracking as you pleaded like a child for your dad to get up and show the woman that held his life in her hands who he was. "Dad fucking get up!" You yelled, demanding now that he get up from this - despite the logical sense in your brain telling you that there was no chance of your father escaping from this, but your traumatized inner child that had her entire childhood ripped away from her needed her daddy to get up and save her. "Please, please don't do this." You begged the girl who stood by your father, her grip on the golf club tightening as she listened to your pleas for your father's life to be spared.

Your pleas, however, fell on deaf ears.

You watched as the girl swung the golf club down onto your fathers head, cracking his skull open with one, sickly crack.

"No!" You sobbed out, clenching your eyes shut as painful and powerful sobs wracked your body. You watched through tear-clouded eyes as Joel let out one last breath before going completely limp, your father's heart completely stopping, ending his life. You didn't care that you were openly bawling in the presence of the very people that had attributed to your fathers death. You weren't paying attention to anything else around you, only able to focus on Joel's dead body, which you were still being forced to stare at - It wasn't for long though, as a swift kick to the face knocked you out.

In the days following Joel's death, the atmosphere was bleak, no one could face anything, but there was one thing you couldn't face - returning back to the house you shared with him, without him with you.

But you had to. As much as it pained you, you had to return to an empty house - a house in which your fathers bed remained unmade, his cup of coffee still on the kitchen countertop where he had left it that morning before the snow had fallen. You barely made it to the kitchen without breaking down, your dad was planning on coming home. He was planning to wash that cup, planning to make his bed - He was going to come home and you were going to have dinner together, this was supposed to be how you'd get to live out the rest of your life, settled with your dad.

But no.

You had that taken from you.

You weren't sure what you had done in any past life to deserve to have had so much taken from you. Your sister, your own damn childhood, and now your dad - you wondered what was next to be ripped from your grasp. You grunted as you fell onto one of the chairs at the dining table, grabbing the nearest bottle of liquor you could grab to drown your misery in, not even bothering to get yourself a glass - You had polished off the bottle in two go's, slamming it down on the table after emptying it. The more you thought about it, the more you realised how unfair this was. You, to the best of your knowledge, had done nothing to that girl. So why did she take your father away from you? and why so brutally? Why did she make you watch as he died?

You had been thinking too much, and you could tell by your reaction. You yelled out in anguish as your threw the glass bottle at the wall, not even flinching as it smashed and the glass pieces fell to the floor. Your chest heaved as you clenched your fists, your nails breaking the skin of your palms - You didn't register the sting as the small marks on your hands started to bleed. Your heavy breathing continued as your eyes filled up with tears, and you barely reacted as Tommy came through the side door of the house. It was been obvious that he had been crying, but he knew he had to check on you, giving that you had shut yourself completely off.

"Y/N?" Tommy watched as you looked up at him, a frown on his face as he noticed sad, yet vacant look in your eyes. "You okay?" He knew it was a painfully stupid question. Of course you weren't okay. You had watched your father be brutally killed in front of your very eyes with little to no explanation of why, how could you be okay after that?

"I hope that was a light-hearted attempt at humour," You murmured, sniffling as you rubbed your nose and met your uncle's eyes. He sighed, side stepping the pile of shattered glass at the door and pulling out the seat in front of you - it was your dad's seat, a seat that he would never sit on again to have breakfast with you.

"Everyone's thinking about you," Tommy informed you, referring to the growing bundle of flowers which was piling up higher and higher, offering a variety of apologies and condolences to you in relation to your fathers death. You scoffed incredulously, shaking your head - You knew that your dad was well valued and loved, but he was your dad. These people didn't know him - they didn't know that he still slept with his door slightly open so if you had a panic attack he could get to you quickly, they didn't know he had wanted to be a singer growing up. They didn't know your father.

"Yeah, of course they would be," You deadpanned. Tommy sighed as he rubbed his hands on his jeans, taking a deep breath before looking at you.

"Y/N, the girl who...who killed your dad," It pained Tommy to say that his brother was dead, but it pained him even more to remind you that your dad was gone. "When we took Ellie to the fireflies all those years ago, your dad killed a bunch of people to save her. That girl is the surgeon's daughter." Tommy explained to you, watching your face as all of the pieces fell into place. So, you did know this girl. Anderson...Anderson....Abby. You remembered,  The Washington Liberation Front.

So, this was revenge.

"Ellie's gone."

"What?" Your head snapped up to look at your uncle.

"She went off with her girlfriend, Dina, I think. She's pregnant," Tommy smiled sadly as you nodded in acceptance, your best friend having abandoned you for her family - something you had lost so much of in the recent days that you weren't sure if you were the problem. You sat in silence for a moment before standing up.

"I'm going to bed." You announced, turning and heading up the stairs before Tommy could say anything. He sighed, watching you run upstairs and into the safety of your room.  He let himself out, locking the door with the spare key Joel had given to him - Just in case, he had said. Unbeknownst to Tommy, you didn't manage to reach your room, as you stopped right outside your fathers, you felt like you couldn't move, paralysed by your grief. In the blink of a moment, you felt like you couldn't breath, your chest constricting as you started sobbing uncontrollably in front of the room that your father would never get to return to. You couldn't build the courage to enter your fathers room, instead crumbling to your knees outside of it, your chest aching as you sobbed, your body shaking as you cried.

You yawned as you opened your eyes, letting out a whine as you stretched out the best you could in your uncomfortable position. You were sandwiched between your dads back and his backpack, it mean his arms weren't tired from carrying you constantly.

"Daddy?" You got Joel's attention, gaining a hum of acknowledgement from your father as he walked alongside your uncle. "Where we goin?" You questioned him. Joel sighed as he tried to come up with a lie to tell you, he knew you didn't understand the severity of what was going on.

"We're gettin somewhere safe, baby girl," Joel assured you, reaching back to hold your small hand to try and comfort you in some way. "Try and go back to sleep, okay?" He told you, tilting his head to the shoulder that you rested your head against, wishing that he too could sleep with you. But any time he had tried, he just saw Sarah dying. Over and over and over again.

You awoke with a groan, rubbing your eyes as you rolled onto your back. Maybe having fallen asleep on the floor wasn't your greatest idea, but your pain was soon forgotten as the smell of eggs wafted up to your nose - Had it all been a bad dream? Was your dad making your breakfast? With hope rising in your chest, you pushed yourself up and off of the floor, making your way down to the kitchen, fully expecting to see your dad standing there - Only to be met with your uncle Tommy. Seeing him standing there instead of your father posed only as a painful reminder of what you had lost, but you couldn't be mad at Tommy, he was grieving too - He had lost his brother just as much as you had lost your dad.

"Morning," He greeted you with a small smile, turning the pan off and turning to face you.

"Yeah, morning," You replied, taking the cup of coffee he offered out to you - You spared a glance to your dad's mug, which still sat in the place he had left it that morning. Tommy knew not too touch anything, this was your house as much as it was your dad's, and if you didn't want anything touched, he would respect that.

"You sleep okay?" Tommy asked you, knowing you were lying when you simply nodded in response. "I...tried, to make you breakfast." He offered a plate of scrambled eggs out to you and gave you a small smile as you took the plate from him and sat down at the dining table wordlessly.

"Thanks," You eventually spoke, looking up at Tommy as he sat across from you. "I'm going to find them. All of them," Your uncle looked at you in confusion, raising his eyebrow to prompt you to continue. "I'm going to Seattle to find her and her group, and I am going to kill, every. Last. One of them." Tommy nodded. If he was being totally honest, he knew this was coming, and if you were anything like your father (which he knew you were), you would make them regret ever laying a hand on your father, and you would make it bloody - anything to get your point across.

"Y/N-"

"No. Don't tell me not to do this. I have to," You told him adamantly, cutting his sentence off before he could get another word in. "I can't let them away with this. They killed my fucking dad, Tommy." You felt yourself filling up again, but not out of sadness, no - this was completely raw, and unfiltered rage.

"Hey. I wasn't telling you not to do this," He finished the sentence you had cut off before, and you looked down at him with a quirked brow. "I was going to tell you that you're not going alone. He wasn't just your dad, and I know that you know that. So we're going together, if I let you go yourself and you get hurt, I know that your dad would never forgive me." You let out a sigh and nodded, accepting your uncle's help in getting revenge for your father.

After breakfast, you packed essentials into your backpack - water, ammo, and a jacket, one you had stolen from your dad - and you made your way to Tommy's. He had managed to get a hold of a car to help in your journey to hunt down Abby Anderson and her crew. Setting off out of Jackson, you couldn't help the part of you that unfairly blamed Ellie for the death of your father.

If Joel hadn't been so hellbent on saving the girl, then he wouldn't have shot Jerry Anderson, and his daughter would still have her father, and you would still have yours.

But no - Ellie Williams was so fucking special to your father that he had sealed his own fate by saving her. You hated how easily she moved on from your dads death, that it was so easy for her to move up and out with her girlfriend and surrogate son, while you and your uncle grieved Joel's loss. Some best friend she turned out to be, huh? You shook your head, and with it your thoughts of Ellie, opting to stare out of the window as your uncle drove out of Jackson and onto the country roads towards Seattle.

Towards your quest for violent and bloody revenge.

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[projectionistwrites]

EQUIFINALITY | SPRING

PART TWO, sequel to GESTALT

Joel Miller x afab!reader (6.2k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: angst, grief, graphic depictions of injury & medical treatment, discussions about murder & death, age gap (not mentioned), allusions to smut DISCLAIMER: although this is a continuation of my series titled GESTALT, it could potentially be read as a standalone. however, i strongly suggest reading the first series to provide context for the reunion and background on the relationships between the characters. this part is genuinely upsetting, i’m sorry in advance. NOTES: this part takes place after the finale episode, when ellie and joel return to jackson.

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He slept for almost 36 hours straight when they finally arrived back in Jackson.

He at least had the mind to shower before he collapsed into the mattress—scrubbing away the accumulation of filth and grime that his body had collected throughout the course of the past few months with Ellie. He spent an unreasonable amount of time picking at the dried blood beneath his fingernails—mostly because he wasn’t sure if it was his own, or someone else’s.

He nearly pissed himself when something smacked him on the backside of the head, startling him awake with a jolt and immediately forcing him into a sitting position.

When he regained his bearings, he saw Ellie standing next to the bed with a cheeky grin on her face, the pillow she’d hit him with clutched tightly in her hands. Joel reached a hand to cradle the back of his head, still reeling from the sudden and abrupt intrusion on his rest.

“Now why the hell would you go and do a thing like that?”

He tried to sound angry, intimidating, but his grogginess created a more bewildered tone than anything. Ellie snickered wickedly, her eyes lit up with mischief.

“I was making sure you weren’t fuckin’ dead. You’ve been asleep for more than a day.”

Joel’s eyes darted from her figure out towards the window, where the afternoon sun was just beginning to fall, the horizon line painted with fiery shades of crimson and gold. His brow furrowed.

“We got in early this mornin’, what are you even talking about?”

He laid back down with a grunt, making a move to roll over and get some more shut-eye, but Ellie grabbed his shoulder and forced him to stay facing her.

“No, genius. We got in early yesterday morning.”

He slowly pulled himself upright in bed, again, face pinched together in confusion.

“No, that’s not—no.”

He insisted, although he forced himself to shimmy from beneath the covers and onto his feet, walking towards the window to gaze outside more closely.

Ellie watched his movements with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Seems like you really needed the sleep, huh, Joel?”

His brain felt foggy, muddied with exhaustion. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d allowed himself to sleep freely—but in the comfort of a home, with four walls and a roof, an inviting mattress with somewhat intact blankets, he finally succumbed to the fatigue that consumed him.

Joel startled when Ellie lightly smacked the pillow against his back in an effort to regain his attention.

“Your brother’s waiting for you outside. I would’ve let you sleep forever, but he told me to come wake you up.”

He ran a tired hand down his face before he settled both hands on his hips, looking down at Ellie just as her lips curled into a teasing grin.

“Besides, your girlfriend is worried about you.”

Joel blinked, his brows lowering into a glare that he aimed towards the girl.

“Knock it off. Go tell Tommy I’ll be there in five minutes.”

When she finally left him in peace, her footsteps fading down the staircase with heavy stomps, Joel sat back down on the edge of the bed, trying to quell the headache that was already forming behind his eyes. Christ, he’d really slept that long?

His mind flickered to you. He hadn’t seen you since he'd returned—of course, you were the first thing on his mind when he’d passed through the gates of Jackson, but he was too ashamed to face you. Your most recent interaction hadn’t been particularly friendly, and he wasn’t quite sure how you’d react to seeing him, even several months later.

But Ellie had already stopped in to see you—he caught sight of the butterfly bandages placed atop the gouge in her forehead, holding the wound closed with precision. He imagined the gentleness in your fingers as you’d treated the wound, the fondness in your eyes that undoubtedly sparked when you spoke with the girl—the same look you’d once held for Sarah.

With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet again, slipping a flannel over his black t-shirt and lacing up his boots. Much to his surprise, he found himself pausing in the entrance of the bathroom to check his appearance. There was a toothbrush, and toothpaste, and he allowed himself to indulge in the amenities the quaint household provided—rinsing his face with cool water, putting on deodorant, combing through his grown-out hair with his fingers. God, when was the last time he’d actually thought about how he looked? You always brought out the strangest parts of him.

Tommy lifted a brow when his brother finally exited the front door, closing it shut behind him.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

He teased, smirking lightly at Joel. The man rolled his shoulders back, feeling his joints pop and his bones creak in protest. He cracked his neck before fixing his eyes on Tommy.

“Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

Tommy chuckled, beginning to trek towards the town square with Joel trailing closely behind.

“I know how you are about keepin’ watch while you’re out there. When’s the last time you got more than a few hours of shut-eye?”

Joel didn’t reply, which was enough of a response for Tommy to know his assumptions had been correct.

“Where’s Ellie?”

He asked finally, immediately noticing the lack of the girl’s presence—especially considering that they hadn’t been apart for practically a year.

“At the stables. She likes helpin’ out there, gets along with the horses.”

Joel hummed in response.

They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the crackling of gravel beneath their uniformed footfalls.

Tommy walked him right to the entrance to the MEDICAL facility.

“She don’t wanna see me.”

Joel grumbled, and although his eyes were cast to the ground, they quickly shot up to stare at his brother at the sound of his incredulous laughter. Tommy shook his head at him.

“Oh, please. She’s been worryin’ herself sick over your sorry ass.”

Joel’s expression softened a bit at Tommy’s admission, and the nerves that were clinging to his insides were briefly replaced with a pang of guilt. His brother sighed, leaning in a bit closer and lowering his voice.

“Look, you didn’t hear this from me, alright? But—about three days after you took off, she tried to follow you.”

Joel felt his jaw go slack at the information, his fingers clenching into fists at his sides.

Tommy took notice of his reaction, but continued nonetheless.

“Tried to sneak out between guard shifts. Luckily Maria and I caught her in time—I had a feelin’ she'd pull somethin’ like that, but—she was a wreck, Joel. Haven’t seen her so upset since her momma’s funeral.”

Joel’s eyes fell to the ground once more, his throat feeling hoarse with emotion. He didn’t deserve that. You shouldn’t have been willing to risk your life for him. Not after everything he’d done.

Tommy clapped a hand onto Joel shoulder.

“Go on, man. She’ll be glad to see you’re still kickin’—and she’ll be able to help you with all your...”

Tommy gestured to Joel’s face with a vague wave of his hand, referencing the various nicks and bruises he’d acquired along his journey.

Joel watched his brother walk away from him, hands sitting heavy in his pockets.

Someone exiting the clinic brought his attention back to the building in front of him—he watched a teenage girl with ginger hair shuffle out of the door, a plastic baggy of feminine products clutched tightly in her hands.

Joel reached to hold the door open for her, and she offered him a brief grateful smile before departing, leaving the man to enter the waiting room with his stomach churning with nerves.

There were people in there, this time. An older gentleman in a rocking chair, a dated magazine held in front of his face, and a young Asian man sitting behind the makeshift reception counter. The boy smiled meekly as Joel cautiously walked further into the place.

“Welcome in. You’re... Joel, right?”

He asked, brows raised knowingly. Joel nodded, a bit surprised that his name was already known to someone outside of his immediate circle.

The boy turned to the other occupant of the room.

“Hey, Ron? Do you mind coming back in tomorrow morning? Doc said that him and the girl get priority treatment.”

The boy jutted his thumb towards Joel in reference, and he stuttered.

“Wha—no, I don’t need—”

“No problem, Ian. Let ‘er know I stopped by, okay? Just wanted her to check on my bum shoulder.”

Ron accepted the news graciously, a bit overzealous for what the situation called for. He stood to take his leave, offering a crooked smile to the two other men.

“Tell Y/N I said to have a good night.”

He winked playfully, and Joel’s nose crinkled slightly, although Ian just laughed it off.

“You got it, sir.”

The bell chimed when the door shut behind Ron, and Ian turned back to Joel.

“She’ll just be another minute.”

He assured, subtly hinting that Joel could take a seat somewhere in the waiting room. The man awkwardly nodded in thanks before slowly making his way over to the nearest piece of furniture. Just as he went to sit himself down on the worn leather sofa, the door to the office pushed open.

“—and just let me know if you’re feeling any more discomfort, okay? Hopefully those meds will help, but if not, we can try something a little stronger.”

Your voice spilled from the open doorway, your figure following closely behind a middle-aged woman whose arm was in a sling.

“Thanks, doc, I appreciate it.”

The woman smiled, and Joel watched your eyes crinkle as you grinned in return.

“Hey, it’s no problem, really. Can’t wait to hear more about the harvest yields for this Spring.”

You sounded sincere, but Joel knew you well enough to recognize the slight sarcastic lilt to your tone, and he felt the corner of his lip twitch upward at your feigned enthusiasm.

The woman nodded gratefully, opening her mouth as if to continue the aforementioned conversation, but then your eyes flitted to Joel’s awaiting figure and you lifted a hand to cut her off.

“Sorry, Opal, but I’ve got another patient to get to. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You were gentle but firm, and the woman nodded in understanding, eyes passing over Joel briefly before she offered a modest farewell and exited the facility.

The air stagnated between the two of you, eyes simply drinking each other in without words being spoken. After a few tense moments of silence, your face turned towards Ian, although your eyes were still trained on Joel’s face.

“Hey, kid, thanks for your help today. Why don’t you head out early and enjoy the nice weather?”

Ian’s head perked up at your suggestion.

“Really? You sure?”

You glanced at him finally, smiling softly.

“Of course. This’ll be my last client for the day, anyhow. And don’t worry, I’ll still mark you off for the full shift.”

You offered, and the boy thanked you once more before grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and following in Opal’s steps as he pushed through the door.

You were alone.

Joel didn’t know what to say, but luckily, you offered him some reprieve by breaking the silence yourself.

“So. I see you’re out of hibernation.”

Your right brow quirked upward slightly, the scar on your face creasing as you smirked teasingly at him. He felt himself grow bashful.

“Yeah, I—I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was ‘til I woke up a day and a half later.”

The angelic sound of your laughter was divine as you regarded him softly, a warm smile lighting up your features.

“Hey, your body obviously needed the sleep. Heard you’ve been through Hell and back since the last time I saw you.”

His face darkened slightly, his features turning stony. He shifted his gaze away from your face, knowing that you were the only person capable of cracking him open with just a single glance.

“What all did she tell you?”

He asked quietly, referring to Ellie. You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back against the doorframe.

“Most of it, I think.”

Joel rolled his eyes, a low groan of annoyance escaping him.

“Can never keep her fuckin’ mouth shut.”

He mumbled to himself, but you obviously heard.

“Hey, don’t be mad at her. Like I told you before, I’m easy to talk to. That’s part of my job, anyway—70 percent doctor, 20 percent therapist.”

Your smile was lopsided as you joked with him.

“What about the other ten?”

He questioned, feeding into your playful banter. You laughed.

“Ten percent is me pretending to know what the fuck I’m doing.”

A small smile invaded his face before he could stop it, and you reciprocated the gesture, your eyes twinkling with triumph at your ability to make the seemingly unbreakable man surrender his defenses, even if just for a second.

You gestured with a slight nod of your head for him to join you in the examination room—you were a bit embarrassed with yourself when you felt your heart rate pick up when Joel started walking towards you, your face flushing when he briefly towered over you while brushing past through the door.

Without any prompting, he found his place on the steel exam table without complaint. You let the door click shut behind you as you walked towards your desk, grabbing a pair of latex gloves.

“Heard someone tried to use you for batting practice.”

You started, making your way towards him on the table. He shook his head slightly at your joke, his hand instinctually reaching up to rest over where the wound was still healing.

“Yeah. It—well, wasn’t great. Got infected, too. Told Ellie she shoulda come back here and left me, but she’s too damn stubborn for her own good.”

“Hmm. Sounds a lot like someone else I know.”

You teased, stopping a few feet in front of him. He rolled his eyes.

“Can you take of your shirt?”

Your question startled him, his body tensing as he lips parted slightly, brows furrowed as he studied your face. Your inquiry was serious, he realized.

“What—I don’t—”

You genuinely hadn’t comprehended the implications of your statement—it was just standard protocol; you needed to examine his injury. But you saw a blush creeping up his cheeks beneath his patchy beard, and your body mimicked the response.

“Sorry. I mean—you don’t have to, but I need to see how everything’s healing up. You can just lift it up if that’d make you more comfortable.”

A wicked retort sprang to his mind and rolled over his tongue—he didn’t even realize he’d said it out loud until he watched your eyes widen at his words.

“If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.”

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Joel’s own eyes widened as his inhale turned sharp, surprised and somewhat appalled with himself. Your expression mirrored his own, heat pooling in your cheeks as you froze, paralyzed.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry, that just—dunno why I said that, just reminded me of that time you—”

“I remember.”

You cut him off curtly, face and neck stinging with embarrassment. It was a call back to one of your prior shameless flirtation attempts when you were young—the same night your mother died, the same night he kissed you for the very first time.

“I’m… surprised, that you do.”

His brows furrowed at that. An ache settled somewhere within his ribcage, squeezing around his heart.

“Darlin’—I remember everythin’. All of it.”

You looked away, trying to keep yourself in the present moment—you could feel yourself slipping back into your memories, the night he’d left you, cold and alone on your living room floor. The things he’d said. The truth he’d spilled.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut, taking a slow deep breath to combat his own humiliation. Before he could wallow in anticipation any longer, he shouldered off his red flannel and lifted the black undershirt over his head, setting it at his side.

Oh, God, you felt faint. Nauseous, even. How many times had you thought about this? Sure, you’d seen Joel shirtless on a couple occasions—at the pool a few times, when he just rolled out of bed in the morning, when the Texas heat was too unbearable. But that was years ago. And now—it felt different, now. More intimate.

You took in a deep breath, walking towards him with purpose. Focus, damnit. This is your job.

But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the newly exposed skin of his torso. His chest was smattered with faint salt-and-pepper curls, his skin peppered with white scars and abrasions that contrasted the tan of his skin. The muscles of his pectorals flexed, and your eyes wandered over the soft expanse of his stomach, before settling in on the wound on his lower right side.

“Can you lie back for me?”

Your words sounded somewhat breathless, and you cleared your throat, tearing your gaze away from his chest to meet his eyes. There was doubt swirling behind them, insecurity, and your heart yearned to comfort him, to press your lips to every inch of skin and assure him that he’s still as beautiful as he was twenty years ago, your feelings hadn’t changed, Joel, I still love—

Joel heeded your request, turning to the side and cautiously lowering himself down onto his back, the cold steel like ice against his skin, causing him to hiss.

You inhaled through your nose when you finally approached him, closing the gap and leaning in to inspect the area more closely.

It was healing up well, all things considered. The skin surrounding the wound was inflamed, but it certainly could be worse. However, the crude blue thread that had been used to stitch his skin closed was mildly concerning to you.

Joel felt your hair tickle against the skin of his abdomen, the light brush of your gloved fingers tracing over the afflicted area.

He stared up at the ceiling, trying not to focus on the way your hot breath felt against his lower stomach. The last time you’d been this close to him, you were on your knees between his legs the night before his birthday.

“You know,”

He started softly, mulling the words over in his mind before speaking.

“you seem to remember more than I thought you did, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your fingers stilling over his skin at his statement. You knew exactly what he was referring to—the confession you’d regrettably included in the farewell letter you’d given him before he left Jackson with Ellie. You probably shouldn’t have remembered, but it was hard not to—the rest of that night was a blur, sure, your memory clouded over from the mixture of liquor and drugs in your bloodstream, but you couldn’t forget the way he’d laid beside you, his lips brushing over your fingers, your hands tracing the outline of his face so you could commit it to memory, keep it close to you. The promise he’d made.

“S’all I’ve ever wanted, Joel. All I think I’ll ever want—to be with you.”

You’d confessed with bleary eyes.

“Will you kiss me, Joel?”

The tenderness in his eyes suffocated you, smothering you with the uncharacteristic softness of his gaze.

“Tell you what,”

he’d said.

“You close your eyes, and keep ‘em closed for five minutes, and I’ll kiss you.”

“I’m gonna have to remove the stitches.”

You stated, tone suddenly cold and matter-of-fact as you pulled yourself out of your recollection.

His head lifted to look at you just as you turned towards the shelf on the wall, retrieving some supplies and setting them on a metal surgical tray.

“Why? S’healin’ fine.”

He insisted, and you pursed your lips, sliding the cart closer to you so you’d have the supplies at the ready.

“We can keep them in, if you really want, but that could lead to some serious complications down the road. This is sewing thread, Joel, it won’t dissolve on it’s own. If your skin heals over it, it could lead to more infection and a nasty looking scar.”

He grunted in acknowledgement, not particularly excited about the prospect of reopening an old wound, picking at the scab. If only he knew that’s exactly what he was forcing you to do...

“Joel? Is that okay? I’ll numb it first.”

You slid your office chair up towards his face, leaning over him slightly to catch his eyes. Your silhouette was framed by the harsh light behind your head, creating a fuzzy halo of glow around you. He nodded dumbly, somewhat hypnotized by your proximity—shit, he’d let you do just about anything to him if you looked at him like that.

He watched you slide back down towards his waist, your hand dipping into the half-empty tub of lidocaine ointment and swiping a generous amount on your index finger. Joel hissed when the cooling sensation hit his skin, your touch smoothing it over his tender flesh carefully.

“Sorry.”

You whispered absentmindedly, reaching for your forceps and a pair of small medical scissors.

“Let me know if it hurts, okay? The internal abrasion seems to be healed, it’s just the entrance wound left. It shouldn’t bleed too much and you shouldn’t be able to feel it, but there might be a slight pinching sensation. Okay?”

“Jesus, you sound like a real doctor.”

He chuckled quietly to himself, folding his hands atop his chest and trying to relax as he felt you move towards the wound. You let out a breath of a laugh.

“Yeah, well, maybe not officially licensed, but by apocalypse standards…”

Your forceps tucked beneath the loop of the first suture, gently coaxing it out from beneath the scar tissue. His abdominal muscles rippled, but you forced yourself to focus.

“I’m about as qualified as they come.”

He let you work in silence for the most part, teeth gritted and jaw clenched tightly as you pulled each stitch out cautiously. He definitely wasn’t gonna admit to you that he could feel each pull of string beneath his skin, tugging against the tender flesh of his insides.

“Ellie didn’t do half bad.”

You chuckled slightly, discarding another removed stitch on your tray.

“Might be givin’ me a run for my money.”

You heard Joel huff.

“Yeah, well, lemme tell you—you’ve certainly got a gentler touch, that’s for sure.”

That earned a giggle from you, although you immediately quieted when Joel grunted in pain as the stitch you were working on got caught on the edge of his torn skin.

“Shit, sorry.”

You whispered, one hand reaching to soothingly rub across the healthy, untarnished skin just above the wound, on his lower stomach. Joel squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the feeling of your fingers brushing across his navel, his brows pinched with pain. Or, at least, you thought it was pain. He knew differently.

When you got down to the final two sutures, your eyes grew soft.

“You’re lucky to be alive, cowboy.”

Your breathy laugh was humorless, more an expression of disbelief than humor. He shook his head in acknowledgement, humming.

“Believe me. Say that to myself that every damn day.”

“No, Joel.”

His head lifted at the sincerity in your tone as you removed the final stitch. You reached for a sterile piece of gauze, soaking it in antiseptic solution before carefully wiping away the blood that had begun to seep from the site of the removed suture.

“This... this should’ve killed you.”

His features softened just slightly as the severity of your remark dawned on him. He knew you were probably right. He’d felt himself slipping several times when he was fighting for his life on that dingy mattress in that musty basement—but he always pulled himself back.

“Couldn’t let that happen.”

He admitted quietly, letting his muscles final relax as you finished cleaning up his injury.

“Ellie... she needed me.”

You were silent as you moved to dispose of the used supplies, putting the rest back in the rightful spots on the shelf.

Joel watched your movements carefully, the contortion of your shoulder blades beneath your deep purple scrubs as you reached up on your tiptoes to put something on a high shelf. When you’d finished, you paused for a moment with your back facing him. He saw your fists clenching and unclenching rhythmically at your sides.

“M’sorry, Joel.”

You finally spoke, voice quiet.

“About everything I said. I shouldn’t have—”

“You were right.”

Joel Miller wasn’t sure he’d ever said those words aloud before—he was never one to admit he was wrong or own up to his mistakes, too prideful and headstrong for his own good. You turned to face him, your eyes cloudy as they scanned his face, scrutinizing his features carefully. He propped himself up on his elbows.

“About Ellie. About—about me. Wouldn’t’ve been able to live with myself if somethin’ had happened to her, if I hadn’t been there. I almost—”

He felt tears spring to his eyes as he thought back on the moment Ellie had rushed into his arms, face speckled with blood.

“—almost lost her, and I couldn’t—”

“—I know.”

You cut him off softly, taking a few steps towards him to sit back down in your chair and roll closer to him. He was grateful that you’d granted him a reprieve from speaking. He rapidly blinked back the tears flooding him.

“She told me. About—about David.”

Joel’s brows lifted, his eyes on yours.

“She did?”

He asked, slightly breathless and entirely surprised.

“She never—I still don’t know everythin’ that happened, she didn’t wanna talk—”

“I think that’s probably for the best.”

You nodded sadly, and Joel watched the movement of your arm as it lifted and reached for his hand, fingers wrapping around his comfortingly. The feeling of your soft skin against the callousness of his palm made his pulse jump.

“I’m—I’m glad she told you.”

He started slowly, eyes still fixated on your intertwined fingers.

“Glad she has someone to talk to.”

Your grin was small, but genuine, and you lifted your other hand to clasp his between both of your own.

“It’s good to get that stuff of your chest.”

You agreed, and Joel nodded quietly, letting his head fall back against the steel table as he stared up at the ceiling. Your next words made him falter.

“Speaking of… you ever gonna tell anyone what really happened in Salt Lake City?”

Joel’s neck almost snapped with how quickly he turned to stare at you. His mouth fell open, and you quickly backtracked at his abrupt reaction, pulling your hands away.

“I mean—it doesn’t have to be me, I’m just sayin’—it’s not good for you, to carry that all by yourself. That shit’s gonna eat you alive.”

His mind was racing, thoughts stumbling over each other at a mile per minute. You must’ve interpreted his silence as disapproval, because you sighed as you rolled your chair across the room towards your desk, busying yourself with the papers that were scattered about.

Joel pushed himself upward into a sitting position, his legs dangling off the side and his back leaning against the wall. He watched you carefully, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as he reeled.

You cautiously breached the silence that permeated the room, although you still pretended to be preoccupied with another task.

“Ellie told me what you’d said—about what happened. They stopped lookin’ for a cure, there were others who were immune. Who knows, maybe that really is the truth, but I feel like I know you better than that, and I—”

“I killed them.”

It was barely above a whisper, his confession, but you heard it loud and clear. The statement rang through your ears like a church bell, vibrating within your skull. You froze, slowly turning to face Joel once again. He seemed to be staring straight through you, his face set in resolution and jaw rippling as he continued.

“All of ‘em. They—they were gonna kill ’er. The fungus, it’s—s’in her brain, they said the only way to get a sample was to... to—”

You nodded knowingly, standing up from your chair to approach him slowly, your eyes soft and sympathetic. He felt gross, disgusting, repulsive, your gaze far too tender for the atrocities he was admitting to. His breath hitched caught in his throat when he tried to speak again, the tears he had been rapidly blinking away gathering back in his waterline.

“I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them do that, I couldn’t. I mean—she’s just a kid, they didn’t understand, and—they wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I had—had to go through them, it was the only way—only way to save ‘er."

A tear fell from his left eye, overflowing until it slipped down the side of his cheek. He reached up to swipe it away as you finally reached him. You were paused in front of him, standing between his widely spread legs. Your eyes never wandered from his.

You knew what he meant—knew deep down why he did what he did, even if he wouldn’t or couldn’t admit it. He’d lost Sarah. He couldn’t lose another daughter. Not on his watch.

He flinched away when your hand reached up to cradle his face, your thumb swiping over his tear-stained cheek as your fingers slipped behind his ear, threading into his hair. No, you shouldn’t be touching him, he didn’t deserve your pity—

“You can’t tell her.”

He suddenly begged, his hand reaching up to grab your wrist desperately, his eyes wide and pleading.

“She can never know, Y/N, she’d never forgive me, I need you to—“

“It’s alright, cowboy. You have my word. Okay?”

The self-hatred he felt was sickening him, festering deeply in the pit of his stomach even as your thumb rubbed soothingly against his cheek, over his graying beard.

Why didn’t you hate him? Why were you still here? He was a monster, he was evil, sick, twisted—

“Stop.”

He finally came to his senses, using his grip on your wrist to pull your hand away from him and gently urge you to step backwards.

“Stop, don’t—don’t go feelin’ sorry for me, don’t go and—and—you don’t know all the things I’ve done, you don’t—”

“I know you, Joel.”

Even though it was gentle, your tone was firm and insistent.

“I know you. I might not know all the things you’ve done, but that doesn’t change who you are, deep down.”

He shook his head. You didn’t understand, couldn’t understand—

“We’re like trees.”

His brows furrowed at that, confusion evident on his face at your sudden and seemingly random shift in conversation.

“Tree trunks, they—they have rings. The innermost ring of the tree is the oldest, and as the trees grow, as time passes, new rings are added, but the core of it always stays the same.”

You pressed yourself closer again, meeting his resistance with ample willpower.

“It doesn’t matter if the outer layers wither, if they decay, if they’re ugly—it’s still the same tree on the inside.”

He shook his head. You and your stupid fucking analogies.

“You don’t get it. ’M not who I was. I’m—everythin’ about me is bad, Y/N, I’m—I’ve rotted straight through to my core.”

To his surprise, you smiled at him, sad but reassuring, shaking your head.

“No. You’re still here. You’re still standing. If the badness had reached all the way to your middle, you’d just be a stump.”

“Can we stop with this damn metaphor? M’not a fuckin’ tree.”

He grumbled, but then you were moving closer against him, standing between his splayed legs with your hips flush against the metal edge of the table as you pushed your chest against his bare torso. His breath hitched.

“No, you’re not. But you’re still Joel. Yeah, things are different. But I still see him in there, the person I knew, the person I—I loved. See it when you look at Ellie, and Tommy. See it when you laugh. See it in your eyes.”

No, no, no—what was he doing? You were so good, so painfully kind, and good, and his poison was going to seep into your fingertips and taint your perfect disposition.

“Don’t think I’ve ever been the person you thought I was.”

His eyes met yours, and he could see your face fall slightly before you recovered, helplessly trying to change his mind.

“Maybe not. But you already said it today—you remember. You remember the way things were, the person you used to be. Those memories, those reminders—they’re proof. Your now can’t erase the then.”

You felt dizzy, lightheaded—every fiber of your being was screaming at you to stop, back off, you’re gonna hurt yourself all over again, slam the door and walk away—but the despondency in his eyes was simply devastating. It was always his damn eyes.

His entire body seized up tight when you slowly lowered your head down towards his stomach, maintaining eye contact as your warm breath passed over his navel. He watched on silently as your lips brushed over the wound you’d just tended to, featherlight and barely-there, but the touch was searingly hot.

“The same Joel who had magic kisses.”

You raised your head again, lifting your arms to wrap loosely around his neck, coaxing him forward towards you. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He let you guide him closer into your embrace.

“The same Joel who can’t wrap a damn Christmas gift."

His lip slightly quirked up at the corner as your fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“The same Joel who’s never been to a college party.”

His eyelids fluttered as your nose brushed against his. You were gazing at him from beneath your lashes, tempting and so damn sweet. He felt your warm exhale across his cheeks.

“The same Joel who still owes me that kiss.”

For a brief moment, he lost himself, his mind emptying until all that was left was you, everywhere, overwhelming and all-consuming. But as you leaned forward to close the gap, he knew he couldn’t do this to you. Not again. Couldn’t let you give yourself away to someone so unworthy.

“Your dad.”

He said suddenly, his words loud and intruding in the small distance between you. You felt the vibrations on your lips when he spoke, and you drew back quickly, the haze of desire in your eyes replaced with a puzzled look.

“What?”

Joel stared you down, arming himself against your targeted attacks on his protective barriers.

“Your—your old man. He was one of the doctors at the Firefly hospital.”

His words rammed into you like a fucking semitruck, the wind momentarily knocked out of you. You stumbled back slightly, your shoulders bracing with tension as a new emotion flickered over your face—fear.

“You’re—you’re lying.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’.”

Joel's brief apathy corroded at the sight of such horror on your face, his eyes flooding with tears yet again as he squeezed them shut. He had the sudden uncontrollable urge to wrap you in his arms and shield you from the world, to protect you—but how could he? How could he possibly protect you from himself?

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—by the time I’d realized, it was already too late, and I—”

“I didn’t even think he was still alive.”

His lids snapped open to look at you once more where the initial shock on your face had worn off, replaced with a frigid sort of acceptance, a jarring finality. Joel felt like he was suffering from whiplash at your abrupt change in demeanor.

“Never got close enough to see him in California. At least now I know.”

You couldn’t be fucking serious. You were just... content with this? Forgiving Joel so easily, so readily? What the fuck was wrong with you?

But then he saw the way your posture shifted, suddenly on the defensive, your stare now pierced with suspicion and criticism. The tenderness in your eyes had shifted to communicate your wariness, your distrust. For the first time, it was like you were looking into the face of a stranger.

Somehow, he felt more comfortable with this than the love you’d so shamelessly displayed for him just moments prior. This, he deserved. This, he could handle.

“Y/N—”

“I think you should go.”

You declared curtly, shutting him out completely as your turned away. You felt your heart begin to split in two all over again—you hated the sudden animosity you felt towards the man you cared so deeply for, but it was threatening to overwhelm you as you listened to him sigh heavily, his feet thumping against the ground as he slid off of the table.

You heard the rustling of his clothes as he slipped his shirt back over his head, his posture sagging lowly as he stared at your back, the distance between you two only widening with each shaky rise and fall of your shoulders.

It was better this way, Joel convinced himself. Better for you to hate him than to love him. Better for him to push you away than to let you back in. Better for both of you to keep moving forward without looking back—better to hurt you a little now before he hurt you a lot later.

He left without another word.

TAGLIST: @spiidergirlsworld @canpillowscry @str84pedro @daddy-din @pedropascal-whore @canpillowscry @pppmitt @thirdoffive @lovekk2plus @elliescumsl0t @kagajgajaguwbeidheubqk @cookielovesbook-akie @kamcrazy123 @ohnosy @dayrdreaming @notsosecretspy @arquiiva (please comment to be added/removed)

[wordywarriorwrites]

Calendar Girl: December

Series Masterlist: Calendar Girl Joel Miller Masterlist Author: @wordywarriorwrites​ Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months. Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of rape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap.

December

Joel was three servings deep on a surprisingly decent single malt when he realized the two of you were seated directly beneath the mistletoe.

You’d made an effort to be festive - donned a dark green sweater and a red knitted cap. Joel hadn’t even tried - just rolled up to the Christmas Eve gathering in his usual flannel and jeans. Every few minutes, his eyes swept over the crowd with a cold indifference most of the townsfolk still hadn’t gotten used to, whereas you waved at nearly everyone who passed by, and they greeted you warmly in return.

He recalled how you’d smiled up at him the very first time all those sunrises and sunsets ago. Your kind, welcoming eyes had been nonjudgmental, open, and endearingly curious. In fact, you’d made his world go topsy-turvy that day, and things hadn’t been quite the same since.

Something about you had revived and coaxed out parts of him he’d thought dead and buried long ago. But he played it very close to the vest - not only because you’re half his age and completely out of his league, but also because you deserved more than his old bones and bloodied hands could ever give you.

You deserved better. You deserved the fucking best.

Everyone in Jackson adored you, and they were right to do so. Even after all you’d been through, all the pain and loss you’d endured, you were still so good. Joel, on the other hand, had always been a blunt instrument - contractor, smuggler, killer, guardian. And sure, he may have been permitted to be a member of the town, but he’d never been widely well-liked or fully embraced - not in the way you and Ellie had been.

For the longest time, the need to protect Ellie and keep her safe had outweighed everything, including any misgivings he’d had about a prolonged stay in Jackson. But after a year in your continued presence, he realized he stayed because you’d made him remember what it felt like to actually want something - to want someone - for himself.

And the longer he remained, the more invested he became.

Rushed meetings, focused on getting assigned a house, learning the town rules, and being added to the job rotations. Then, more prolonged conversations over meals in the mess hall. In the past few months, there’d been walks and rides and movies and books. Ellie liked you, trusted you, and seemed to enjoy your company as well. The more time Joel spent with you, the more he realized he wasn’t just attracted to you; he’d started to feel comfortable - maybe even safe - with you, and that complicated things.

It wasn’t until you polished off your drink, and the tip of your tongue darted out to catch a wayward drop, that Joel started to think about your mouth and all the ways he’d enjoy it if you ever became his. And as his thoughts continued to mosey on down that unlikely, dangerous path for what seemed like the trillionth time, he realized your tongue would taste especially good coated in whisky - all warm, smoky, and sweet. 

“Any plans for tomorrow?” you asked in a conversational tone.

Joel shrugged away his treacherous thoughts and raised his hand for a refill, “Might visit Tommy and his family. Hang out with Ellie. You know, the usual.”

You nodded. Offered up your plate for sharing. Joel accepted your ready-made concoction of bread, cheese, and jam; a surprisingly good combination, but then again, you’d never steered him wrong.

“What about you?” Joel wondered as he wiped crumbs from his shirt. “Spending time with Carl?”

You gestured for your own refill and waited for it to be delivered before you spoke again.

“We decided to go our separate ways,” you announced tersely.

Joel paused with his glass halfway to his mouth, “When did that happen?”

“This morning.”

You tilted your head back, and he watched as the amber liquid disappeared down your throat in one swallow. You maintained an even temperament and possessed an impressively good poker face. Even when Carl sidled up to the opposite end of the bar - bold as brass, with his arm wrapped very familiarly around another woman’s waist - you didn’t react.   

The reason for the split became all too clear, and just like that, your ex went to the top of Joel’s own special kind of Naughty List.

“You can’t kill him,” you insisted.

He rolled his jaw, “Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t his fault.”

“He’s the one who cheated. Not you.”

You let out a self-deprecating laugh, “There are different kinds of cheating.”

Joel wanted to know what you’d meant by that, but you steered the conversation out of those muddied waters, and asked about Ellie and how she was doing in school. That safe topic saw you both through another round, and while you shared another plate of food, you talked shop and swapped stories about past Christmas celebrations.

“I mean, I was eighteen when it happened,” you explained. “But I remember Christmas at my house was always a bit stuffy. Not like this, you know?”

“You mean you weren’t hanging out in a bar, doin’ shots of whisky with an old man?”

“Shut up.”

Joel smirked, “You sure you shouldn’t be at home, dreaming of sugar plums like the rest of the little children?”

You pursed your lips and smacked his shoulder, “Har-fuckin’-har.”    

While everyone in town would attend a big Christmas Day dinner, the Christmas Eve party was an adults-only affair. With the kids safely tucked into their beds, the grownups had gone out to play, and as people started to blow off steam, the party became both raucous and crowded.

Someone attempted a rendition of Elvis’ Blue Christmas and failed spectacularly. Then, the jukebox was turned on, and people danced like fools. The delicateness of pine, mixed with the headiness of firewood. Laughter and mindless chatter and a bit too much Jingle Bells.    

Joel sipped and chewed, and as he pondered your new relationship status, you ordered yourself another. As the night’s bartender hustled over, she jerked her thumb toward the ceiling, and he watched as you caught sight of the mistletoe. Something he’d hoped and feared you’d notice had been blatantly pointed out, and Joel tried not to cringe as the bartender poured and explained that it was tradition to kiss beneath it and not doing so would bring bad luck.

You waited for her to walk away before you looked at him, brow arched, “That true?”

Joel shrugged and scratched his chin, “It’s an old wives’ tale, but yeah.”

You nudged him. He nudged you back. A shared laugh, and then, a moment of hesitation. A flash of unspoken, are we really going to do this? You nodded - said it would be better not to tempt fate. Joel agreed - said he’d had enough bad luck to last a lifetime.  

Like all fires, it started with a spark; the anticipation of first contact as you both leaned toward each other on rickety, unbalanced stools. A rush of flames soon followed; your lips fitted sweetly against his, stoking the need, causing it to flare brighter.

Without any conscious thought whatsoever, Joel gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger and swept his tongue into your mouth. From there, it turned into an inferno. Your nails dragged along the skin at the tape of his neck, and he introduced his teeth to your bottom lip in response. When he cupped your face in his palms and caressed the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs, you wrapped your hands around his wrists and squeezed. Joel felt the vibration of the pleased sound you let out, and as goosebumps erupted along his body, he slanted his mouth more firmly over yours, and let himself get lost in the warmth of your kiss.

A couple of very inebriated, gray-haired women singing Santa Baby at the top of their lungs bumped into you and effectively burst the bubble. They apologized profusely. You graciously waved it off. Then, you looked at him - lashes aflutter, pupils blown, and mouth all shiny and kiss-swollen; you’d never been more beautiful, and Joel would’ve happily picked up where you’d left off had you not suddenly jerked away from him and rushed to your feet.

“I have to go,” you announced abruptly.

Joel cleared his throat and swallowed hard, “Alright. You want me to walk you?”

You shook your head. Pulled on your coat. Mumbled Merry Christmas and hurried out the door.

Just his luck.

Next Chapter: January

[thirstyforcharacters]

Healing

Part 3 of the Mistakes Series

Part 1: Mistakes. Part 2: Reconnection

Summary: The past repeats itself, but Joel refuses to make the same mistake twice.

Warnings: angst!! canon typical violence, brief description of gunshot wound, Joel is finally getting good at emotions :)

WC: 1279

Notes: Hellooooo! I wasn’t sure if I was going to write a part 3, but I was inspired, so I wrote the entire thing this morning! Finally, we get to the fluffy stuff, but of course I still had to sprinkle in some angst! This is definitely the last full installment of the series, but I wouldn’t mind writing some blurbs and whatnot about these two, so if you still want to see this pairing, you can totally send me some requests for that :) or if you just want to send requests in general, feel free to do that as well! thank you all so much for reading this series: I’ve never written this much angst before, so I was afraid it wouldn’t turn out well, but I’m super thankful that you all enjoyed Mistakes!!!

PS: anything in italics is a flashback :)

Things were awkward for a while.

You didn’t feel as though you could fully trust him yet. You were too afraid of him hurting you again. But you adored Ellie, and because Ellie insisted upon you coming over and sharing her stack of comic books, Joel slowly became a more consistent figure in your life again. As spring became summer, you learned to trust him more. You told him about your solo travels, how you had taken out a raiding party single handedly and survived more than one encounter with Infected. He opened up to you as well, telling you the tale of how he and Ellie came to Jackson just a few months ago. You really felt for him: the things they had been through were terrifying, and you could see how much the two had grown to care for each other throughout their journey. And seeing the way Joel loved Ellie gave you hope. That maybe he could love you and not shut you out.

Little did you know that that theory would be tested sooner than you expected.

The two of you were paired up for patrol often (which Tommy said was because “you’re one of the only people he tolerates in this town, and I need a break sometimes.”), and today was no different. You were trudging along the craggy mountain path, stepping over long, broken branches, dodging wildlife, and trying not to make too much noise. During this part of the patrol, you always walked in silence, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. There would be time for talking once you got to the safehouse, a cabin that you were now about halfway to.

The silence was broken by a gunshot. You barely remembered what happened next.

You collapsed to the ground, pressing your hand to your stomach as it became coated with red.

Joel couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe as he saw you fall. He could only think of the first time.

“Sweetheart, please.”

His pleas fell upon deaf ears. Your eyes had fluttered shut as you lost consciousness, unable to reply.

“JOEL!”

Tess’s shout was the only thing that pulled him from his own head. He had never moved so fast, scooping you up without a second thought and sprinting after Tess, carrying you the entire way to Bill and Frank’s without rest.

“Y/n will be okay, Joel,” Tess assured him, “Frank will take care of things.”

Joel nodded, barely hearing as he ran. He needed you. Holy shit, he needed you. More than he needed anyone else in this god-forsaken hellscape. He loved you too much.

He shook it off, seeing the concealed figures through the bushes. He saw red, going after the raiders with a rage he had only felt a few times. When Sarah was shot. When he killed an entire warehouse of Fireflies for Ellie. And now, for you.

The raiders had no chance. They dropped like flies under Joel’s thunderous fury, with knives sunk into their stomachs, gunshots to their hearts, and fists breaking in their faces until they could speak no more. When they were all dead, the threat of any danger to you taken care of, he ran to your side, seeing your eyes were already closed.

“Shit,” he hissed, quickly tearing off strips of his shirt to tie around you and attempt to staunch the bleeding, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Not fuckin dying on my watch.”

He picked you up, not unlike the first time, as he ran to Jackson. The year and a half between the first time he did this and now was affecting him: his legs burned and his breaths were ragged. But he didn’t stop. Not for a goddamn minute. He needed you.

It felt far too long before he saw the towering, wooden gates to the town, which swung open almost immediately as the gatekeepers saw the scene before them. Joel sprinted down the streets, carrying your limp body to the infirmary.

The doors burst open as Dr. Casey and two nurses saw Joel, frantically looking around with you in his arms.

“Raiders,” was all he could get out, but they understood.

“Here,” the doctor said as calmly as she could, gesturing toward a table, “we’ll get the bullet out and stitch Y/n up. Don’t worry.”

Joel grit his teeth. Don’t worry? How in the absolute hell was he supposed to do that? But he didn’t say a thing as Dr. Casey got to work. He trusted the doctor fully: she was one of the few people who actually was a doctor before everything went to shit, so she knew what she was doing. But he was terrified. He just got you back, and he could lose you again.

One of the nurses, Allen, who had been there when you were first brought to Jackson, looked at him and said, “Joel. Y/n will be okay. We promise.”

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as the door swung open again.

It was Ellie, who for once, didn’t speak. She just gently took Joel’s hand and led him to their home. And he broke down, holding one of his girls as he cried for the other.

It was a few hours before a knock sounded as his door.

It was Allen, who had a soft smile on his face.

“Y/n’s fine. Lost a decent bit of blood, so she’s still weak. But she’s okay. Do you want to se-”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence as Joel bolted past him in the direction of the clinic.

Ellie giggled, “Sorry, he’s just excited. So I’ll thank you for the both of us.”

Allen nodded, smiling a little wider, “Whole town thought he’d be a grump forever. But having both of you in his life seems like it’s helping.”

She smiled, “It’s not just helping him.”

The door to the infirmary burst open again, but with a much different purpose. You were in the corner. You were bandaged and pretty beat up, but you were alive. You and Dr. Casey looked up at the sound of the wooden doors banging against the wall. You couldn’t help the fond smile that made its way onto your features as a blur of a black flannel and blue jeans burst onto the scene, wrapping you up into his tight embrace.

“I’ll leave you alone,” the doctor whispered before disappearing into a back room.

“‘M okay, Joel,” you murmured, your voice muffled into the fabric of his shirt, “you saved me. I’m okay.”

Hearing your voice confirm the very words he needed to hear allowed him to catch his breath.

“Thought I lost you again,” he said, gripping your shirt with calloused hands.

You shook your head, “Didn’t lose me.”

He pulled away, gently cupping your face in his hands. You could see the wetness beginning to gather in his eyes.

“I-” he swallowed hard, “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” you assured him, “I won’t leave you.”

There was still a bit of fear in you. There was still a chance of him pushing you away as soon as you were healed. You were terrified of that possibility.

But any fear you had immediately washed away as his lips pressed to yours. It was years in the making, and the way you felt when you connected made you wish it had happened years ago. He cupped your face so delicately, and his lips mirrored the softness of his hands, kissing you so tenderly you could cry.

It ended too soon, Joel pulling away to whisper, “I’m not leaving you, either. Ever again.”

And you knew it was safe to believe him.

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Brotherhood

Joel and Tommy

Told in third person.

Part of The Wrong Way series, a bonus chapter I dedicate to @the-fox-den <3 we were chatting about joel and tommy and i expressed regret i never went into their relationship more, and they said 'you still can!'

Summary: Told in two parts. First is a night on the porch at a none descript time between Joel killing Nick and Tommy leaving, and then at 7 months into Little One's pregnancy, Tommy and Joel think about their relationship as brothers, and how Sarah death and Little One's emergence in their lives have shifted dynamics.

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

Usual warnings apply, but add in alcohol consumption.

********************

Tommy sat on the porch in the dim light of the lamp, barely lit by their shitty generator but getting the job done. A cup of moonshine in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and the pack of cigs and moonshine jar at his side. Tommy was glad he had learned how to make it in high school, alcohol was hard to come by these days. Generally, Tommy preferred to be out here when Joel was with the girl; they were loud… but he didn’t want to be far, in case she called for him.

It wasn’t that he was jealous, no, that’s not it at all. He thinks. But when Tommy hears him moaning his name and screaming when she comes, he can’t help but think back to the time they were together. It was awful, really. The poor girl was terrified, shaking, and Tommy wanted to make it easier, make her feel good at least but she refused him. That was her wish of course, but the ego in him… he knew he could make her scream his name louder than Joel’s. He just knew it. Because Tommy cared about her. Not in the way Joel pretended to, not in Joel’s possessive obsession, but Tommy cared for the girl as a person. Joel had certainly been putting on a good show, maybe even fooling himself in the process with the way he brings her little treats and tells her little pieces here and there, the young, naive little girl was falling for it. Between the sex, the gifts, the way Joel bathed her and cared for her after… his violent outbursts were beginning to be lost on her, Tommy knew. She was to fucking young for all of this. 

Tommy tried his best, he really did, and he liked to think he was a friend to her. He made her laugh, he made her smile, he held her as she cried over her brother or missing her friend… he could tell her that her brother was alive… but she was so compliant, things were going well now… he couldn’t take it if she tried to run. She’d simply get caught, and brought back to be tortured and maybe even killed, because Joel didn’t love her for her. Joel's sick version of love was twisted and obsessive and treated her like a possession. When Nick raped her, Joel brutally killed him, a long and slow death, exactly what the fucker deserved. Tommy could’ve killed him, but they needed to send a message to everyone else that the girl was absolutely off limits, and the punishment was worse than death. But Joel didn’t kill him out of justice, it wasn’t for being a rapist. Tommy abhorred that, but he couldn’t deny that Joel and most of the men he worked with were too, save for a handful, like Jack or Logan. Joel didn’t kill him for that. Joel didn’t eve kill him for raping her, neccesarily. Nick was tortured to death because he touched a possession of Joel’s. That’s what mattered. Not that she was a human, but that she was his.

Tommy felt like Joel looked at him that way, sometimes. When Sarah died, his entire life motivations shifted. He was lost for a while, even trying to kill himself… and Tommy was the one left to bandage his head. Tomy wasn’t as kind as he could’ve been, he was selfish, he knew, but as he patched up his big brother, Tommy really railed into him.

‘How could you do this? How could you try to leave me?’

‘I lost Sarah too Joel, I can’t lose you and her!’

‘You were just going to leave me? Alone? I’d have no one, Joel, no one everything we knew is gone!’

Since then, Joel’s focus shifted to keeping Tommy alive. Tommy wasn’t entirely sure how much of Joel was left in there but save for that baseline, that primal instinct to protect blood. That’s how the raiding began. Joel was ruthless, and Tommy, although certainly wouldn’t be described as ruthless, got the job done. He didn’t kill women unless in self defense, and absolutely no children, that was his own rule. Joel wouldn’t kill kids. He’d orphan them, though. Every now and then, however, Joel might come across a family with a little girl. Maybe she had Sarah’s skin or her eyes, maybe so little as curly brown hair… But Tommy could see Joel hesitate. He wouldn’t leave them orphaned or absolutely helpless. 

Joel was still in there, somewhere…

The porch door opened, Joel tentatively walking outside. Joel always looked more human, more real, more vulnerable when it was just them together. He talked like anormal person, smiled sometimes, even laughed a bit on a good day.

“Hey man, can I join?” He spoke softly, the voice he always had after he was done with her… relaxed. It made Tommy uncomfortable.

“Yeah, grab a cup, i got some moonshine made up, tried making peach flavored, tell me how it is.”

Joel popped back inside to grab a cup and in a few moments, he was drinking the homemade alcohol and puffing on a cigarette Tommy gave him.

“You’re getting better at this. Yuh never even tried mak’n ‘em flavored in high school”

Tommy chuckled softly at that. “Yeah, back then it wasn’t for enjoy’n. It was for getting drunk.”

“‘Drunk’ is putt’n it lightly, but fair point.” There was a long, comfortable pause before Joel spoke again. “This is nice. I feel like I never get to see you anymore.”

Suddenly avoidant, Tommy, looked off to the side. “Yeah uh. I suppose you’ve been busy.”

“So are you, it seems” Joel snapped back.

Tommy turned to glare at Joel. “And whose fault is that? I’m not the one that kidnapped her.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Joel rolled his eyes at Tommy. Another pause. “She seems to be doing better now, yeah?”

The softness in Joel’s voice when he talked about her never ceased to amaze Tommy, considering the things he did to her.

He relaxed a bit. “Yeah, she does.” The reply was honest. “Seems happier.”

“Good. Good.”

They sat together on the porch, drinking and smoking before Tommy got up to go to bed, a slight buzz going on. He drank a little more than usual, enjoying Joel’s company, although quiet. That was a thing about family, sometimes comfortable silence just worked when you’ve known each other your whole lives. Plus… Tommy missed his brother. Before he left Joel alone, Tommy turned back, hand on the door handle. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” Tommy looked at Joel, the man who’d spent his life, before and after the outbreak, taking care of him, protecting him, sitting underneath the cloudy moon light. “I know it’s been… things have been different, lately… but it’ll always be you and me, right?”

Joel looked at the floor, dodging Tommy's gaze but smiled gently, nonetheless. “Yeah, you and me. I love you too, Tommy. Don’t get sappy on me now”

*A Several Months Later*

Joel watched in the darkness, waiting for Tommy to appear. He had it on good authority that Tommy was supposed to be patrolling this path tonight; it seemed fucking that cunt Maria didn’t get him out of freezing midnight patrols. 

Tommy’s voice snuck up behind him. “So what, you’re here to kill me 6 months later?”

Casually, Joel turned around to find Tommy pointing his rifle at him. “Put the gun down, Thomas, relax.”

There was no relaxing. “What do you want? You said you’d leave me alone.”

“I said no such thing, actually. Only reason you ain’t dead is because she begged me not to.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t kill me if you wanted to.”

“I did it for her, and for Sarah.” The dark tone of his voice was a warning, a warning not to push on Sarah’s name like he did the last time they spoke… then he was back to casual. “Besides, if you think I couldn’t kill you, what are you so jumpy about?”

“I don’t wanna shoot you.” Tommy confessed. 

“So don’t. I’m not even armed. With a gun, anyway.”

“Bullshit. You ain’t been unarmed since kindergarten.”

“My gun is with my horse, quarter mile up. But right now, it’s just me, you, and several pocket knives, but those are just in case of infected. See, as much as you don’t think I can kill you, I don’t think you can kill me.”

Tommy considers for a moment. “And what’s stopping me from taking you into town, get a good old fashion pose to hang you, ending your reign of fucking terror and freeing the girl?”

“Reign of terror” Joel mumbles, chuckling to himself. “You could. But you won’t”

“Why? Why wouldn’t I? You got Lorenzo up the ready to shoot to kill?”

Joel was still smug, and way too relaxed for his position, but he knew his brother. “No, and even if I did, I don’t think Lorenzo would be much help to me. They’ve grown rather attached to each other.” Joel saw the spark of concern and… what? Jealousy? Something flitted across Tommy’s face. “Relax, Lorenzo’s…” He held out his hand, palm down, and wobbled it, and old fashioned sign for gay. “If you know what I mean. I think he reminds her of her brother, and he had a bunch of sisters, so they seem to have fun. She’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

The worry was clear and evident on his face now. “What did you do now, Joel? I know she’s pregnant.”

His laughter was one of surprise. “Oh yeah, how’d you hear that? You and Jack still keep up?”

“Word gets around.” Tommy never was a great liar.

“Relax, Tommy, I know Jack swings by. He also knows he’s dead if he uses anything against me. Now, will you put down the gun?”

Hesitantly, Tommy lowered his gun and walked toward Joel. “What do you want? I gotta get on patroll'n.”

“Gimme five minutes.” Joel reaches into his pocket, causing Tommy to raise his gun again and for Joel to mutter Jesus Christ. When Joel pulls out a cigar box, Tommy comes off the defense. “Remember back in the day? Sharing a cigar to celebrate a pregnancy?” The brother had smoked a few after Sarah was born. He hands one to Tommy.

Tentatively, he accepts it, looking worried. “She can’t have given birth already… what is she, 7 months? 8?”

“6. Knocked her up the night you left. And no, she ain’t given birth yet. Had a little scare, but it was braxton-hicks.”

Tommy lit his cigar and took a puff, blowing a ring. “You mean to say you put a baby in her instead of a bullet that night?” Tommy scoffed, shaking his head, a wry smile on his face. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Joel lit his own cigar, enjoying it despite the clearly old taste. “I know you don’t like how I do things, but I love her, and she loves me.”

Despite his annoyance, hsi anger, Tommy didn’t argue. “Yeah. Yeah okay. You’re a happy little family and she’s trapped with you forever. Great job.”

Joel glared at Tommy. “Hey! Just because mine keeps her mouth shut and is obedient and your bitch got you freezing your ass off inthe middle of the goddamn night don’t mean I trapped her.”

“Can she leave?”

“She doesn’t want to. I know she told you Zach tried to come back-”

“Can she leave, Joel?!”

“No!”

Tommy took a long stride forward, stepping up to Joel in a rare challenge. “Then how can you act like she’s your pretty little wife when she’s still just a kidnapped child, Joel! She should be in college! She should be exploring the world and making friends, drinking cranberry vodka because that’s all she knows how to order! She should be smoking weed for the first time and getting cross faded only to ace a test the next morning-”

“That world doesn’t exist anymore, Tommy!”

“She should be learning, figuring herself out, meeting boy, Joel, BOYS, plural, and her age, not 40 year old men! She shouldn’t be kept locked away as your servant, your sex toy, or your baby machine!”

Joel stepped up to Tommy in one long stride, bringing them face to face. “THEN KILL ME TOMMY, OR TAKE ME TO JACKSON AND HAVE SOMEONE DO IT BECAUSE YOU’RE A FUCKING COWARD! You think I’m so horrible, and the girl is so fucking miserable, DO IT!” Joel grabbed Tommy’s gun, pointing it straight at his chest, with Tommy’s finger on the trigger. They were eye to eye, intense brown swallowed by black pupils, the moon light reflecting off them… But Tommy couldn’t do it. He couldn’t shoot.“That’s what I thought.” Joel shoved him back, and began storming off in the direction of his horse.

“Joel wait!” Tommy called after the older man, and Joel stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn around. “Just… finish the cigar, please? I’ll stop. I won’t say anything else about her, just, please, one cigar?”

Joel stood still, acting like he was considering, but he was hiding a smirk. He knew exactly how this would go, exactly how Tommy would react… but he also knew that Tommy, at his heart, would always be little Tommy Miller, his baby brother that so desperately wanted Joel to like him. He dropped the smirk and turned around. “Fine. One cigar.‘

One cigar turned to three, and before long the brothers were laughing, sipping on the flask of blackberry moonshine Tommy brought to keep him warm. Joel swore he could see tears forming in Tommy's eyes when Joel told him if they had a son, they would be naming him Caleb Thomas.

When it was time to part, on far more amicable terms this time, they hugged.

“I love you, Tommy. No matter what, you’re my brother, okay?”

Tommy nodded against him. “I know. And I love you too. And if you ever… if you get some intel at where I’m at on a midnight patrol again… Well… I always got moonshine on me if you ever want a taste, okay?”

This time, when Joel smiled, it wasn’t a smirk, it was genuine.

No matter what, Tommy would always be his little brother.

********************

Well guys, does this shift your view of Tommy at all? Seeing as he had the chance to end things for Little One in the woods, and frankly, could've helped her at any point during all this...

Do you think he's a coward? Or is his stuck under Joel and has been manipulated like little one has? Tell me what you think!

Also, i dont wanna be adding a poll bc then i cant edit this and i only like BARELY proofread so I'm sure ill wanna edit later. Anyway.

Comment what you think... is little one having a boy, or a girl?

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