Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s not your business is a rule he and Tess live by, have for many years, and it’s probably kept them alive more often than not. It’s not your business when they see people hung for minor infractions like theft when they're just trying to feed their families. It’s not your business when a FEDRA officer is kicking the shit out of someone who may or may not be a Firefly.

It’s not your business.

At least, that’s what Joel tells himself when he walks past the alley on the way home from another day at the burn pit and hears what sounds distinctively like a fight. Not his business, people settle things differently now than they used to.

And then he hears a pained noise that sounds entirely too reminiscent of Sarah when she would run into something or get a deep scrape, and his feet halt of their own accord just past the alley entrance.

“Get the fuck away from me,” is snarled from somewhere behind him.

Joel turns and peers cautiously down the alley. In the fading light he can make out three figures, teenage boys if he had to guess, in a semi-circle around a kneeling figure. Their head turns and Joel catches sight of a brown ponytail between the boys’ legs, a flash of a knife gripped in a hand.

One of them steps forward and kicks her in the shoulder, sending her sprawling backwards. She scrambles back to her feet, knife outstretched in front of her, teeth bared. If she wasn’t so goddamn small, Joel would think she was more than capable of handling herself against these guys, but they’ve each got probably half a foot and fifty pounds on her, and he finds himself walking closer.

“Problem down here?” he calls, tucking his hands in his pockets.

The boys turn and behind them he can see the girl sizing him up, obviously trying to figure out if he’s there to help her or make it worse. Smart girl, he thinks, and wishes he didn't have to.

“Mind your business, old man,” one of them says dismissively. “This don’t concern you.”

Joel leans against the wall casually, making it clear he’s not going anywhere. “What did she do to you?”

“None of your fucking business. What are you, deaf?” The tallest one advances on him a little, his buddies turning to watch. The girl takes the opportunity to step backwards a little, put more space between her and them even though there's nothing behind her but brick wall. “This. Don’t. Concern. You.” He emphasizes each word, and then turns back to the girl again.

“Yeah,” Joel drawls, pulling their attention back to him, “you’re right, it doesn’t concern me. Pardon me for being curious as to why it takes three boys to beat up on one girl.”

Tall one steps closer to him, now clearly sizing Joel up for a fight. “Walk away now, asshole. Trust me, this little bitch deserves it.”

“Not my fault you’re dumb as a rock,” the girl shoots back. “Maybe if you put some fucking effort into it instead of swinging your tiny dick around the school, you could get a decent grade too.”

One of the other boys turns and balls up his fist, driving it straight into the girl’s cheek and sending her sprawling. She glowers up at him, spitting out a wad of saliva and blood. “You punch like you also have a tiny dick, Watson.”

Christ, this kid didn’t know when to quit. Joel almost had to admire the balls on her.

“Congrats, you got your hits in on her,” he says, crossing his arms. “Proved you’re all big strong men for picking on someone smaller than you while she’s outnumbered. Let her go now.”

Tall guy - clearly the leader in this outfit - throws a look to his friends before turning back to Joel and cracking his knuckles. It’s all he can do not to roll his eyes at the posturing. “You guys handle her, I’m gonna get rid of this dipshit.”

Joel doesn’t uncross his arms as the kid advances, waiting until he’s close enough and clearly winding up for a punch. At the last second, Joel slides back the slightest bit, and the kid’s fist makes contact with the brick wall instead. He lets out a howl of pain, cradling his hand, as Joel steps around him and grabs hold of his collar, tossing him against the other wall. His head makes contact with a dull thud and he slumps to the ground, unconscious.

Joel steps on his already-busted hand as he walks past, for good measure.

“You two,” Joel says when he’s close enough, sending one of them sprawling with a kick to the back of his knee, “can either get your friend and drag his sorry ass out of here, or you can join him on the ground.”

There’s a split second look between the two of them, glancing between Joel and their unconscious leader.

Clearly they decide he and the girl aren’t worth it, because they skirt around him as far as possible and then each grab one of their friend’s arms and start pulling.

Joel waits till they’re gone around the corner before turning back to the girl. “You good?”

She doesn’t say anything, just watches him warily as she gets to her feet. Reading her unease, Joel steps backwards, tucking his hands back in his pockets.

“What’d you do that for?” She asks, her voice hard. Her grip is still white-knuckle tight. “I had it handled.”

Joel snorts. “Sure you did.” If by handled she meant on the verge of being beaten within an inch of her life. The girl couldn’t weigh more than ninety pounds - maybe - or be taller than five feet, brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Her jaw was already bruising, and Joel forces himself to take another step back when the urge to check it for swelling sneaks up on him.

She doesn’t say anything, just glares at him, gaze darting between him and the alley entrance behind him, clearly weighing her escape odds.

Joel takes another step back, before he turns and walks out of the alley altogether, checking each way to make sure the little punks weren’t there waiting to ambush him or the girl.

“You’re welcome,” he calls over his shoulder and makes a left. It takes a minute, but then he hears rapid footsteps behind him. A glance behind him tells him the girl has darted out of the alley and across the street, looking every which way around her, and then she’s gone.

Tess is at the sink when he walks in, about twenty minutes later than he should have, and he sees her scan him up and down briefly.

“Anything wild and exciting today?” she asks finally as Joel drops onto the couch, head leaning against the wall behind him.

He thinks of the girl in the alley, the knife clutched in her hand, her blood spat onto the ground.

“No.”

–-

“Hey.”

Joel ignores the voice, not even glancing in the direction of where it came from, keeping his focus on the sidewalk in front of him.

“Hey.”

This time the word comes out around a pained grunt but still Joel keeps going. Too close to curfew, and he and Tess have a run to make tonight.

“Asshole, I know you can hear me,” and now there’s a slight moan of pain from somewhere to his left. He doesn’t mean to, but Joel glances in the direction of the voice and sees a shadow against a wall. “I need your help.”

“I’m not the helpin’ type,” Joel says firmly, turning away. He doesn’t know what this is, a set up for a jump or something, but he’s not falling for it.

A snort that could be a laugh, followed by a pained inhale. “Funny, could’ve sworn just last week you helped me not get my ass kicked.”

Goddamnit.

Without his permission, Joel’s feet have turned back towards the little alcove the voice is coming from. When his eyes adjust to the shadows he can see the person talking to him is short, scrawny, sporting a ponytail.

“You followin’ me?” he asks, his voice low, checking around them instinctively for FEDRA.

“No.” Another pained inhale, and the girl shifts further back off the street. “Fuck, can you just help me and then I’ll explain?”

A stream of swear words runs through Joel’s head, but he takes another look around and then ducks after her.

The alcove widens a little into an alleyway, not unlike the first one he'd found her in, and the girl leans against the brick wall, breathing heavily and clutching an arm that Joel can now see is hanging at a completely wrong angle.

“Can you –” she cuts herself off when shifting obviously causes her pain, eyes screwed up. “Can you put it back in?” Joel doesn’t answer and she opens her eyes, looking at him pleadingly. “Look, I can’t do it myself, and if I go to the infirmary with this again they’re gonna put me back in the Hole.”

There’s so many things wrong with what she just said, starting with asking a strange man to fix her dislocated shoulder and ending with the Hole, but Joel just ignores all that in favor of looking around the alley again, jaw clenched.

It’s not your business echoes in his head, sounding strangely like Tess’s voice.

It’s not, and Joel’s an asshole, but he’s also not the type to leave a teenage girl vulnerable like this, not with FEDRA and life in the QZ being what it is.

Goddamnit.

“Can you sit?” Joel asks gruffly. The girl just looks at him warily, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. She asks for his help and then doesn’t want to do what he says. “It’ll be easier, and putting it back in is probably gonna knock your legs out from under you. Here.” He sits down himself, keeping his hands visible to her.

Slowly, still looking distrustful, the girl slides down the wall until she’s sitting as well, teeth clenched and a pained grunt escaping her.

“I’m gonna get closer to you,” Joel warns, waiting for her to nod before he does. He scoots until he’s in front of her but slightly off to the side, her feet next to his hip. “Gonna hold your arm and your shoulder,” he says next, and she nods.

As soon as he touches her though, she lets out a whine of pain, her face going pale.

There’s no way she’s not gonna scream when he pushes it back in, and Joel would really rather not have to explain to FEDRA officers why a teenage girl is screaming in an alley with him. No matter what either of them say in his defense, he’d be hung just for their entertainment.

“Here,” Joel says, sliding his arms out of the flannel shirt he has on, leaving him in just a t-shirt. He holds it out to her and her brown eyes flick between it and him warily. “You need to bite down on it so you don’t scream.”

“Dude that’s fucking gross,” she says, but she takes it from him anyways, balling part of it up in one hand to squeeze and putting the end of the sleeve folded up between her teeth.

Joel holds up his hands again and she nods, eyes on his face but slightly unfocused. They squeeze shut when he grips her arm and collarbone again.

“1…2…” and then he presses, her muffled scream of pain drowning out the sound of the bone slotting back into place. A few tears trickle out of her eyes and when he releases her she slumps over, breathing heavily.

It’s instinctive, almost, the way he guides her forward so her head is resting on his collarbone as she gulps in air. One of her hands now has a death grip on his bicep that lessens a bit with each breath she takes.

“Fuck, that hurt,” she says finally, moving away from him and leaning back against the alley wall, eyes screwed up in pain. They sit in silence for a moment, Joel looking between her and the end of the alley to make sure she’s not about to pass out, and that they’re not about to be busted.

“Here.” She holds out his shirt and he slips it back on after a brief check for blood, saliva, or teeth marks. When he just stares at her, brow arched, she rolls her eyes and grudgingly adds, “Thanks.”

“Can you stand?” Joel asks, hauling himself to his feet. A quick glance up tells him it’s near darkness, meaning they have about thirty minutes before they have to be back indoors.

The girl nods, holding out her other hand in a bid for help. Reluctantly, Joel takes it and pulls gently until she’s on her feet, wincing again as she flexes her other hand experimentally.

Asking how she wound up with a dislocated shoulder is on the tip of his tongue but he swallows the question back down, instead walking ahead of her out of the alley and checking around to make sure they’re alone. Technically it’s before curfew, but FEDRA sometimes doesn’t give a shit, soldiers out on a power trip looking for someone to fuck with.

She follows, performing the same check he did.

“Which way?” Joel asks before he can help himself and the girl looks over at him, suspicious again.

“Not telling you where I live,” she says defensively. “You’re a fucking stranger.”

“A fucking stranger,” he repeats flatly, “who kept you from getting your ass kicked and put your shoulder back in its socket.”

“Still a fucking stranger.”

They glare at each other for another moment before Joel sighs. “Whatever. You gonna be able to get back there before curfew and without any bodily harm?”

She shrugs, hissing a bit at the movement of her shoulder. “Yeah. Getting up the fire escape is gonna suck ass but I’ll manage.”

Manage to pull the arm back out of its socket, Joel thinks but doesn’t say. Not his business, and neither is why she's climbing up a fire escape to get into her home. “Suit yourself then.”

He turns and walks off, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes peeled for FEDRA or Fireflies. Those fuckers were the reason curfew was stricter right now, setting off bombs in random sections of the QZ, sniping FEDRA soldiers. Making life more goddamn difficult for everyone.

Joel’s almost a block away before he turns back to check on the girl again.

She’s gone, the street silent, and Joel turns back towards home.

It’s only when he’s there, swallowing a glass of whiskey and checking his pistol, that he realizes the girl never explained how she found him again.

–-

He honestly isn’t expecting to see the girl again, rather hopes he doesn’t. But his plans to chalk their first encounters up to a coincidence don’t last long, since two days later she’s leaning on the wall of the alley he first encountered her in, clearly looking for him. Joel contemplates ducking out of sight, waiting for her to leave, but then he figures it’s better to figure out how she keeps finding him now so he can avoid run-ins in the future.

Her gaze lands on him and she straightens, waiting for him to walk over to her.

“What is it this time?” Joel asks with a dryness to his tone that’s almost joking, surprising himself. “Another dislocated limb, slice off a finger, or –”

Her head turns and Joel cuts himself off at the shiner she’s sporting now, purple and red and swollen.

Clenching his hands and tucking them in his pockets is all that keeps him from reaching up to prod at it and make sure her cheekbone isn’t fractured. He doesn’t like the instincts this teenage girl brings out in him.

“The other girl looks worse,” the kid mumbles, crossing her arms.

“You make these fights a habit?” Joel can’t stop himself from asking, and the girl throws him a dirty look.

“No, other people make being assholes a habit,” she snaps. “Whatever, I just wanted to say thank you and give you this.” She digs something out of her pocket and smacks it against his chest before striding past him and making sure to shove him with her uninjured shoulder when she does.

Joel looks down at what she’s hit him with, finding himself holding a hastily wrapped chocolate bar, softened by the warm air but not quite melted. Looks like the good stuff too, the stuff that FEDRA usually keeps to themselves.

He turns to see if she’s still there so he can ask where the fuck she got this, but the girl is gone and Tess is standing on the sidewalk a few feet away with her brows nearly in her hair. Her gaze flicks between Joel’s face and the bar of chocolate sitting in his hands.

“You gonna tell me what that was about?” she asks when he gets closer, falling into step with him back towards the apartment.

“Not really sure,” Joel says with another glance over his shoulder. “Ran into her the other night with a dislocated shoulder and I put it back in for her.”

Tess makes a humming sound, looking at him like she doesn’t quite believe him. She doesn’t say anything else until they get to the apartment and Joel has tucked the candy bar into the freezer.

“Since when do you stop and help random teenage girls pop their shoulders back into place?” Tess asks when he’s turned back around. “What happened to it’s not our business?”

“It’s not,” Joel says tiredly, “but I think she was trying to find me specifically, the other week I stopped some guys from beating her up.”

If he thought her eyebrows were high earlier it’s nothing compared to now. “What are you, the neighborhood savior all of a sudden?”

Joel brushes her words off, walking past her to the bedroom to change into a darker shirt. “No. Christ, Tess, it was one kid.”

She doesn’t say anything, so he turns to look at her and finds her watching him, her face unreadable. “What?”

Tess just shrugs. “Whatever you say, Miller.” And then she goes back to the kitchen, leaving Joel feeling like he’s missed something.

–-

There’s a knock at the door four days later and immediately Joel is reaching for his pistol, Tess doing the same across the room. They don’t get visitors. Ever.

Joel cracks the door open, hand gripping his pistol, a grip that tightens at the sight of the face staring back at him from the hallway.

“What the fuck do you want?”

Marlene arches an eyebrow at him. “You gonna let me in or we gonna have this conversation out in the hall?”

Reluctantly he opens the door wide enough for her to slip through, meeting Tess’s suspicious gaze with his own. Neither of them drop their pistols - Joel keeps his safety off and his finger right outside the trigger guard.

“You’ve got some nerve, showing up here,” Tess says, her voice low and hard. “We don’t need the kind of attention you attract.”

“Relax,” Marlene says, even though clearly neither of them are going to. “I wasn’t followed or seen, and I won’t be here long.”

“What do you want?” Joel asks again, wary. Last time they’d had direct contact with Marlene they’d wound up sneaking enough explosives into the QZ to level the whole damn thing, and neither of them had slept well for weeks waiting to hear the explosions.

“I want you to stay away from Ellie.” Her tone edges towards hostile, and Tess sends him a confused look.

“That’ll be easy,” Joel replies, matching her tone, “considerin' I don’t know who the fuck Ellie is.”

“Fourteen-year-old girl, this high,” she holds her hand up near her shoulder, “brown hair. Recently dislocated shoulder. Ring any bells?”

Joel sighs. Flicks his safety back on and tucks his pistol into the waistband of his pants. “Yeah.”

“Okay good. Keep away from her, then.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Seems like you’re better off tellin' her that than me, considering she’s the one that keeps findin' me.”

“Oh please,” Marlene says, hands coming up to rest on her hips. “Telling Ellie to stay away from something is like waving a red blanket in front of a bull. I tell her to stay away from you, that you’re a dangerous smuggler, and she’d be up your ass with questions before the day is out. No, you need to be avoiding her.”

You’re overreacting, Joel wants to say. I’ve seen her a handful of times and didn’t even know her name till you showed up here. This is completely unnecessary. How did you even know I interacted with her? You having me followed, or her?

Why are you so interested in this kid anyways?

He doesn’t say any of that though, because it would just mean prolonging whatever this ridiculous conversation is, and that means more time Marlene is spending in his apartment. For all her certainty that she hadn’t been followed, Joel isn’t willing to push his and Tess’s luck.

“Whatever you say,” he settles on, gesturing for the door. Marlene looks like she’d like to argue with him, but another glance at his set jaw and Tess still gripping her pistol has her nodding and slipping out.

They stay in silence for a few minutes, not moving until they’re sure she’s left, and then Tess flicks the safety back on her gun and sets it on the counter. Her arms cross and she levels Joel with a glare.

“What the fuck is the deal with this kid?”

Joel pulls his own pistol from his waistband and sets it on the counter next to hers. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I would think you would have a better guess,” Tess presses, “considering you’ve interacted with this kid, what, three times? Two of which you failed to mention when they happened, by the way. And suddenly we have the President of the Boston Terror Club on our doorstep? No, there’s gotta be more to this.”

“If there is,” Joel says each word firmly, staring Tess down. She’s got a good bullshit meter, so she should be able to see he’s not lying. “I don’t know what it is. I didn’t even know the kid’s name until Marlene said it.”

Tess’s eyes skate over each part of his face, looking for the lie. Clearly she doesn’t find it, since her shoulders lose their tension.

“Well, here’s hoping we don’t see her again and we don’t have to worry about whatever it is Marlene was on about.”

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, “here’s hopin'.”

–-

It’s an absurd thought, striking him later that night when Tess is asleep and he can’t close his eyes without seeing Sarah in the grass in Texas.

She seems like an Ellie. The name suits her. He can’t quite explain why, but it does.

Whoever named her - Marlene? Parents? - picked the right one.

It’s a stupid train of thought, and Joel gets out of bed, padding across the floor to where they keep the heavy-duty shit that’ll knock him out.

One of those, a swig of whiskey, and all thoughts of a brown ponytail and scuffed up sneakers disappear.

–-

One week passes. Two weeks.

Joel starts to think Marlene was overreacting.

If it weren’t for the frozen chocolate bar in his apartment, he would think he had imagined her, imagined all of it.

–-

Most of the time, he and Tess sell to FEDRA officers, get pills to the ones struggling with their place in a fascist regime, equipment to the ones who got the short end of the stick. They get stuff to people in various parts of the QZ too, baby formula, better food, higher quality blankets. At the beginning they had a couple people test the waters with them, see if they could rip them off or short them.

That stopped once Tess sliced a man’s fingers off for getting a little too grabby, and Joel broke another’s femur and left him to bleed out behind his house. Word like that spreads.

It hasn’t happened in some time, months if not years, someone trying to get one over on him. His reputation has gotten him this far, perhaps too far since he’s forgotten there are people who don’t know him well enough, or just don’t care.

That’s how he ends up on his ass in the deserted courtyard between condemned buildings in the northeast corner of the QZ. Their floors are rotting through enough that people don’t even really try to squat there anymore unless they actually have a death wish.

This motherfucker obviously has one, since he started this exchange by giving Joel only half the ration cards he was owed and then straight up trying to steal the pills and cards back. It had only been his surprise that had gotten Joel on the ground, not strength or fighting skills.

Problem was, now the dude couldn’t stop gloating about it, looming over Joel and all but beating his chest.

“Man, my brother said you were like the toughest asshole out here,” he’s crowing, skinny arms doing a shitty Rocky impersonation. “But you’re just some old man, fuck, it didn’t take me anything to knock you down.”

Joel doesn’t say anything, just shifts a little on the ground until his hand is close to the knife he keeps attached to the back of his pants, readying himself to stand and thrust it into the man's stomach. Fuckin' idiot hadn't even thought to check him for weapons before he started crowing about his success.

“Man, you probably should have retired years ago.” The guy spits on the ground near Joel’s feet. “Too late for you now though, once I tell people about this you’ll be gettin’ ripped off left and right. Hell, I bet –”

Whatever he was about to bet would remain a mystery, since before Joel could blink the guy was on the ground in front of him, moaning.

Behind him stood Ellie, a pipe gripped in her small hands.

She raises it again, and Joel launches himself up, faster than his knees are used to, seizing it out of her hands.

The guy definitely deserved what was coming to him, but he wasn’t gonna let a teenage girl be the one to hand out the justice.

“Back,” he mutters, once the pipe was out of her hands and into his. She glowers at him but backs up a little bit, staying silent while he turns to the man on the ground. He’s holding his knee where Ellie hit him, spewing cuss words.

Joel tosses the pipe to the ground and slides out the hunting knife he keeps on his belt. He’d really rather not do this in front of a witness - a teenage witness, at that - but, he thinks as he crouches down, putting one knee on the man’s wrist and another on his gut, she didn’t really give him much choice.

“Now,” Joel says quietly, making sure the man gets a good look at the blade in his hand, “what was that about me needing to retire?”

“Look, man, I’m sorry.” His eyes are following the knife, watching as Joel taps the tip of it on his own fingers. He knows exactly where it’s going for this man, but he’s learned over the years that sometimes the build-up of fear is just as effective as the pain itself.

Joel just shrugs, staring down at him.

There’s a long, taut moment where nobody speaks. Joel can feel Ellie’s gaze burning into his back.

It’s not until the man starts to squirm under him, clearly about to try to shove Joel off and make a break for it, that he leans forward and plunges the knife into his bicep, slicing through muscle and sinew. Blood starts pouring forth as soon as he yanks the knife out, the man yelling in pain until Joel reaches forward and clamps his jaw shut with a hand. Just because the area’s generally deserted doesn’t mean they won’t be overheard.

“Now,” Joel says casually, wiping the knife on the man’s shirt, “do me a favor and tell your brother that I ain’t doin’ business with him anymore either. And if I see you around, I won’t stop at the arm next time.”

He stands and rolls the man to his side, digging in his pockets for the ration cards and the pills. “Be takin' these back too.”

For good measure, he bends down and slices through the back of the man’s ankle, severing his Achilles and forcing another shriek of pain out of the man’s lips.

That handled, Joel steps over the man’s body and strides off, making his way around the corner of the first condemned building and down the sidewalk until he finds one he can enter without worrying about falling through the floor.

Predictably, Ellie is right behind him.

You’d think, after seeing him stab a guy and slice through his leg, that she would keep her distance, but no. Joel turns around when they’re inside and practically trips over Ellie, she’s so fucking close behind him.

Not a bit of fear in her eyes either, and Joel can’t decide whether she’s brave or just damn stupid. Watching him maim a guy and then following him into a building alone, not even seeming to consider the fact that he might want to kill her to eliminate witnesses. No, she’s bouncing on her toes, looking up at him interestedly.

“That was so cool,” is what comes out of her mouth, and Joel takes a step backwards. “How did you know where to stab him?”

“Practice,” Joel growls. It doesn’t have the slightest effect on Ellie, who pulls out her own knife and flicks it open, looking at it wonderingly. “How did you find me? How do you keep finding me?”

Ellie closes her knife and slips it back into her pocket. “I have my ways,” she says evasively, until Joel takes a step towards her. “Okay fine, I doubled back and followed you a bit after you stopped those guys beating me up. The second time was just luck, but then I realized it was probably your usual route.”

“And this time?” Joel presses. He’s nowhere near his ‘usual route’ right now, and now he’s realizing he needs to start taking different ways home. If a goddamn child can track him, so could others.

Ellie scuffs the toe of her dirty Converse on the ground. “This time I just happened to see you in the market and started following you from there. Good thing I did too,” she adds defensively, “seeing as how that guy was about to kick your ass.”

“I had him handled,” Joel interjects. Christ, he doesn't need saving from a teenager.

“Okay,” Ellie scoffs. “Or you could just say you’re welcome.”

Yeah, that’s not happening, and Joel just stares at her until she realizes it.

“Stop followin’ me,” he orders, and she gives him a mocking salute. “Ellie,” he says warningly, and her brow furrows.

“How do you know my name?”

“I have my ways,” he echoes back to her. He doesn’t know how this kid is tied to Marlene, if she even knows she’s tied to Marlene, but he’d rather not bring the Firefly leader into this if he can help it.

“Okay, well, what’s your name?”

Joel can’t help it - he chuckles, just the smallest amount. “I’m not tellin’ you.”

“Fuck you, man, that’s not fair.” Ellie’s arms cross in front of her and she glowers at him. Maybe she means to be intimidating, but considering she barely reaches Joel’s armpit and he could probably fling her into a wall with one arm, it doesn’t exactly work.

“Little girl, you should have learned by now that life’s not fair.”

Something about his words push a button for her, Joel can tell, because her posture tenses immediately, her gaze drifting to somewhere over his shoulder. “Yeah, don’t I fuckin’ know it.”

They both go silent.

“I’m leavin’, and you better not fuckin’ follow me again,” Joel says finally. Ellie gives him an angelic smile he doesn’t trust for a goddamn second and he sighs. “I catch sight of you again, I’ll pull that arm right back out of its socket.”

It’s an empty threat - Joel would never hurt a kid, especially not a teenage girl - but he’s hoping the memory of him slicing through a man’s skin without flinching is fresh enough for her to believe it.

Ellie doesn’t answer, and Joel strides past her and back out into the sunlight.

He takes a longer route home than usual, doubling back a couple times, going through the market twice and several abandoned buildings. He keeps an eye out for Ellie the whole way but doesn’t spot her at any point.

Fuckin’ ridiculous, having to take such measures to avoid a kid.

“How’d it go?” Tess asks when he comes in thirty minutes later. Joel goes to the window and looks down and around before answering, just in case.

“Fuckin’ mess,” he replies when he turns back to face her, her brow arched at his behavior. He recounts the whole thing for her, from the dipshit that tried to pull one over on him to Ellie showing up with a pipe and everything that came after. Tess’s expression goes from annoyed to unreadable to…amused?

“Kid’s got balls,” she says when he stops talking, and Joel glares at her.

“Kid’s fuckin’ stupid,” he corrects. “Followin’ me around like that, she’s lucky I’m not one of the fuckin’ lunatics in the QZ who would hurt a girl like her.”

Tess hums. “Yeah, and clearly she can tell. You’ve met her like what, three times before today? And you apparently made quite the impression on her. Plus, if what Marlene said was true, you telling her to stop following you just means you’re gonna be tripping over her before long.” She laughs at the look on his face. “Man, I really wanna meet this kid now.”

–-

Tess is, unfortunately, right on the money.

Two days later he’s leaving the building after curfew to make a solo run to the edge of the QZ, and he hasn’t gone more than a block when he hears light footsteps behind him.

Joel sighs but keeps walking, until he rounds a corner and steps into the shadow of a shop overhang. Sure enough, about a minute later a brown ponytail is poking around the corner, scanning up and down the street. Frustration is written on every line of her face and Joel fights back the urge to smile, just the smallest amount.

He waits till she’s walking past his spot and then reaches forward and snags the collar of her shirt, pulling her backwards.

Joel has to give it to her, Ellie immediately goes into fight mode, using the momentum of his pull to swing herself around, fist raised. Doesn’t do any good when he easily catches her fist in his hand though.

“I told you to stop followin’ me.” He shoves her back, not hard, just enough to send her back a couple steps into the wall opposite him. “You especially shouldn’t be out after curfew.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Ellie shoots back, straightening her shirt.

“No, but I’d be willing to bet your parents would say the same thing I am.”

Ellie snorts. “Yeah, if they were alive maybe. Orphan.” She does an imitation of what Joel thinks people used to call ‘jazz hands’ when she says it, and he ignores the pang the word sends through his gut.

“Whatever,” he says dismissively, even if it feels cruel. “Stop followin’ me. I got some shit to do and I don’t need a kid underfoot.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “You can’t stop me.”

Joel advances on her. “Wanna bet?”

There it is - the first bit of fear he’s seen from her. It doesn’t feel good to have caused it, but she needs a reminder of the risks she’s taking, following a strange man around the QZ after hours.

“Stay here.” His tone is harsh and Ellie seems to shrink into herself.

Not his problem, he reminds himself as he walks off and leaves her standing there. Not his fucking problem.

–-

Joel can’t help it - he takes the same route back home after the deal is done. Just to make sure she actually left, he tells himself. And that she’s not still standing under that overhang.

Except that she is.

Ellie’s still standing there, leaning against the wall where he left her. She doesn’t react when he walks up to her, just glaring at him.

“Why are you still here?” Joel asks bluntly.

“You told me to stay,” Ellie points out, “like I’m some kind of dog.”

Christ. “I meant stay as in ‘don’t follow me’ not stay as in ‘wait for me to come back’.” Ellie just shrugs. “What if I had taken a different route home?”

“Why didn’t you?”

Joel doesn’t have an answer for that, so instead he just gestures for her to go ahead of him. “I’m walkin’ you home and then I better not see you again. Ever.”

Ellie just lifts her chin, not moving from her spot. “And if I don’t tell you where I live?”

“Then I leave your ass here and you can get back on your own, around FEDRA and whoever else is out roaming the streets right now.” Joel crosses his arms and waits. He doesn’t know where she lives in the city - though her orphan comment had him making an educated guess - but they’re far enough from everywhere else he’s encountered her that it’ll be a long trek back. In the dark.

The Boston QZ is a lot of things, but well-lit at night ain't one of them.

Ellie visibly doesn’t like that idea, and Joel gestures for her to start walking.

Reluctantly - dragging her feet a lot - Ellie trudges ahead of him, periodically looking over her shoulder as if to make sure he’s still following along.

“You really don't have to escort me like this,” she says at one point when they’ve ducked into the shadows of a shop to avoid a FEDRA soldier.

“Kinda seems like I do,” Joel points out, peering around the corner again and signaling when it’s clear. “Seein’ as how you’re bound and determined to get in some kind of trouble, out wanderin’ around after dark, trailing strange men around the QZ.”

“I wanna say you’re not a stranger at this point but you won’t even tell me your name,” Ellie grumbles from behind him. He glances over his shoulder at her, slowing so she can catch up. “Where are you from? You can tell me that at least.”

“What makes you think I’m not from here?” Joel stops walking, waiting for her to indicate which way they go from here. She makes a right and he follows, scanning around them for threats. Nobody else out, thankfully, and Joel follows her up another block and to the left.

“Nobody from this area talks like you, dude,” Ellie scoffs.

Joel sighs, looking around them again. “I’m from Texas.”

“That’s really far.” Ellie’s steps slow as they approach a group of buildings. “How’d you get up here? Were you here when the outbreak happened or did you come after?”

Joel’s feet plant themselves near a concrete barrier, swaying as he fights off images of a blood-soaked grass in Texas.

Ellie seems to realize he’s not following her anymore and she steps back towards him. “Dude, you alright?”

He doesn’t get a chance to answer because then there’s another voice coming from behind a stack of crates, hissing “Ellie.”

Ellie whips around and Joel takes the chance to squeeze his eyes shut and regroup. Already, without thought, his hand has gone to the pistol tucked in his waistband, until another teenage girl steps out.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hisses at Ellie, glaring at her. “You were supposed to be back hours ago, you –” The girl notices Joel and immediately moves as if to step in front of Ellie, who just rolls her eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

Joel doesn’t bother to answer her, instead aiming his words at Ellie. “If you’re good I’ll be leavin’ now.”

“Yeah,” Ellie turns to walk away, “see you later, man.”

“I better not see you later,” Joel says sharply. “I mean it, Ellie.”

She doesn’t respond except to wave at him briefly over her shoulder, wrapping her other hand around the wrist of the other girl. Dark brown eyes glare at him as she lets herself be pulled away by Ellie, and she does the two finger I’m watching you gesture at him before turning around.

Joel just rolls his eyes and turns back for home.

–-

He doesn’t see her later. But that doesn’t mean he’s not fully aware she’s following him on a regular basis. Considering he dropped her off at what he’s pretty sure was a FEDRA military school, he doesn’t know how she’s getting away with sneaking out so frequently when she probably should be in a class of some sort, getting brainwashed.

Not his business.

Joel has to say it to himself every time he catches sight of a brown ponytail ducking out of view, hears the scuffling that means he turned around too fast and she’s diving for cover. He does it sometimes just to fuck with her, takes longer routes than necessary, climbs five flights of stairs in a building just to climb back down again for no reason but to exhaust her. The satisfaction of it helps dull the pain in his knees later.

He’s pretty sure that he loses her or she gives up each day before he goes back home, so she doesn’t know where he lives.

Not that it ends up mattering anyways.

–-

Apparently people don’t like it when you stab their brother in the arm and hobble them by slicing through their Achilles, and Joel winds up ambushed in an alley eight blocks from home one night. It’s only the one guy, fortunately, and after his initial surprise Joel is able to get an arm around the asshole's neck and snap it.

Not before Junkie McShitForBrains gets in a good long swipe across Joel’s stomach with a knife though.

It’s not deep enough to need stitches, he doesn't think, but it hurts something awful and is bleeding a pretty fair amount. Fuckin’ hell, if he goes out like this Tess’ll do a séance every day just to give him shit for it.

“Holy shit.”

Joel squeezes his eyes shut, praying to a God he doesn’t believe in - or any deity that’ll listen, honestly - that it was an auditory hallucination caused by rapid blood loss, and he’s not about to open his eyes to find Ellie standing in the alley while he’s sliced open with a corpse at his feet.

No such goddamn luck, of course.

“Are you okay, dude?” She steps forward cautiously, gaze raking over the man on the ground with his neck at an odd angle. Her expression shutters for a second and then she’s looking up at him again.

“Yes,” Joel can’t help but snark, annoyed at the entire predicament, “I’m okay. Doin’ fuckin’ great actually, so why don’t you just mosey on away.”

Ellie scoffs. “You say the weirdest things. People from Texas must've had really weird expressions. I met a lady from Georgia once and she said –” Her eyes widen when he pulls his hand away from his stomach to check the bleeding. “Oh, fuck, man, you’re not about to like, die, are you?”

“Really fuckin’ hope not.” He winces as he walks towards her, stumbling a little. He’s losing blood, though not enough to be concerned about quite yet. Main thing he needs to worry about is getting home without passing out and then getting the wound clean. God only knows what was on that man’s knife.

Joel stumbles again, and Ellie immediately steps up next to him, wedging herself under his shoulder and supporting his weight. It shouldn’t help, considering she weighs less than half what he does, but it makes moving far less painful.

Now he just has to get home without attracting attention. Suddenly, wearing a black shirt seems like the most genius decision he’s ever made. He has to hold it awkwardly to manage the tear in the front, but at least he doesn’t appear bloody unless someone’s looking real close, and this time of night there shouldn’t be anyone else about.

This is such a bad idea, Joel thinks as he and Ellie step out of the alley and he grunts left. Relying on a mouthy teenage girl he hasn’t been able to shake and showing her where he and Tess live. He’s really never gonna be able to get rid of her now.

A faint thread of luck runs through their slow walk back to his place, because they don’t run into another person, Firefly, FEDRA, or otherwise.

Joel tries to shake Ellie at the front of his building, but she plants herself in front of the door, refusing to move and taking advantage of the fact that he can’t move her himself in his current state.

Angrily, and with more force than necessary, Joel tosses her his keys, getting a petty satisfaction at the way she fumbles and then drops them.

“Asshole,” he’s pretty sure he hears her mutter when she bends down to pick them up. It doesn’t make him smile, not the slightest bit.

The stairs are an absolute fucking delight to navigate when you’re in pain and relying on a scrawny teenager, but they’re finally upstairs with the door shut behind them, and Joel is peeling the torn shirt away from his stomach to get a better look at what he’s up against. Tess doesn’t seem to be home yet, which is a small blessing. Maybe he can get Ellie out of here before she gets back.

“Bathroom down the hall,” Joel says with a hiss as the shirt sticks to his skin. “Under the sink there’s a first aid kit.”

Ellie retrieves it, setting it on the counter and then following Joel’s careful instructions, handing him clean cloths and soap, cutting the bottom of his shirt out of the way. With it cleaned, the blood wiped off, Joel can see that he was right - he doesn’t need stitches. Thank fuckin’ Christ for that, because he would rather bleed out than make Ellie stitch him up.

They’re just taping the bandages in place when Joel hears the key in the door, and he curses under his breath.

“Hey, how did the –”

Tess stops short, eyes raking over the sight of him leaning against the counter helping Ellie tape a bandage to his stomach, bloodied cloth on the counter, first aid kit strewn about. She looks at Ellie, who has her back turned holding the gauze in place, and then up at Joel, a smile already tugging at the corner of her mouth and a knowing expression in her eyes. “If this was an episode of Days Of Our Lives, this would be the point where you say it’s not what it looks like.”

Ellie looks up at him, confused. “Days Of Our Lives?”

“An old soap opera,” Joel replies absently, ignoring the way her confusion only seems to double. “Really, Tess, Days Of Our Lives?”

“Don’t judge me, Miller.” She tosses her coat on the arm of the couch, walking over to inspect their handiwork. “You’re not the one having to live with the fact that you’ll never find out who the Salem Stalker was.”

Ellie secures the last piece of tape and steps back like she's admiring her handiwork.

“Anyone gonna fill me in?” Tess asks, arching a brow. Joel just rolls his eyes and pushes off the counter, wincing at the way his skin tugs with the movement.

“I’m gonna change.”

When he comes back Ellie is looking at him, delighted. “You know, Tess here has much better manners than you. She told me her name right away, like you’re supposed to do when you meet someone, Joel.”

He shoots a glare at Tess over Ellie’s head, but she doesn’t look the slightest bit ashamed. If anything, she looks downright pleased with herself. He can deal with that later though, seeing as how it’s well after curfew at this point and Ellie still has to get a mile and a half through the city.

“Time to go, kid,” Joel says gruffly, reaching for his jacket and biting back a pained noise.

Tess stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, you are not going anywhere. I’ll get your little gremlin back wherever she needs to go, but you’re staying put. Tonight and tomorrow, at a minimum.” Joel opens his mouth to argue but she pins him with a look. “Stay. Here.”

She escorts Ellie out, the girl throwing a wave that’s entirely too cheerful in Joel’s direction as she leaves, and he slumps on the couch. The adrenaline has left him and he’s headed for a crash, he can already tell.

Maybe Tess’ll be able to do what he hasn’t, Joel thinks drowsily, shifting so he’s laying down. Maybe she’ll knock some sense into Ellie, get her to stop following him around. She might actually listen if it’s coming from an intelligent woman instead of a grumpy old man she seems to live to aggravate.

–-

Or maybe.

Joel slams the door behind him, but Ellie just stares at him from her perch on the kitchen counter a week later, unperturbed.

Maybe Tess won’t have any effect whatsoever and now he’s got a goddamn housebreaker.

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Ellie asks, closing her comic - great, she's even bringing books with her - and readjusting so her legs are hanging from the counter.

“You don’t even know what Cheerios are,” Joel grumbles, tossing his overshirt onto the couch and scrubbing a hand over his face. “The fuck are you doin’ here?”

“I do too know what they are!” Ellie says indignantly, hopping down from the counter and leaning against it with her arms crossed. Joel just arches an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes. “I’ve never had them, but I know what Cheerios are. Why anyone would wanna eat little round grain things for breakfast is beyond me.”

“You haven’t answered the question,” Joel points out, mimicking her pose.

Suddenly she can’t quite meet his gaze, instead looking down at the ground and scuffing the toe of her shoe on the floor. "Is…how’s your stab wound doing?”

Her voice is uncertain, and Joel is a little thrown. “Uhh…it’s fine. Still hurts a little but healin’ up good. Didn’t get infected or anything, took the bandages off two days ago.”

All at once Ellie’s expression clears, her posture loosening. “Okay, good. That’s good.”

Joel doesn’t like this, the fact that she seemingly came out here to check on him, her relief that he’s okay. It means at some point, Ellie’s gone and gotten attached to him, which she can’t do. He doesn’t want or need her feeling any kind of affection for him, not when he’s too messed up to reciprocate it even if he wanted to.

Which he doesn’t.

How he’s healing up shouldn’t be her concern. She doesn’t need to be doing this, making herself comfortable in his home, following him around, acting like they’re a regular part of each other’s lives. He’s not reliable, not someone to be depended on, which she’s so clearly looking for.

Especially since he and Tess are probably gonna be leaving soon. Tommy’s been out of communication too long, not answering his radios, not checking in. They gotta go find him, make sure his dumbass is still alive, even if his last words to Joel were I don’t wanna see your fuckin’ face again until you’ve got your head on straight.

Joel’s head is most definitely not on straight, but he’s not gonna let that stop him from finding his little brother, even if all he has to go on is Wyoming.

Ellie doesn’t know any of that though, and he hadn’t been planning on telling her. That was before she decided to help herself to his home, and now Joel’s wondering if he oughta tell her just so she doesn’t go busting in on whoever moves in here after them.

Something tells him she won’t take it well, and for now he keeps his mouth shut.

Nothing’s set in stone yet anyways.

–-

Ellie breaking and entering happens three more times and each time Joel’s insistence that she stop is less vehement. He finds himself setting aside snacks for her, checking the sturdiness of their fire escape since that seems to be her preferred manner of entry.

Calling himself a goddamn idiot for doing it.

Especially since he knows he’s definitely going to have to tell her now that he and Tess are leaving the QZ, likely permanently, as soon as they get a truck battery from an associate of theirs. He’s an asshole, but Ellie has apparently latched onto Tess just like she has him, and after what’s now been three or so months of her tailing him, she deserves more than an abandoned apartment and no explanation.

Fuck, what has this kid done to him.

–-

She’s got several bruises up and down her arms the next time she comes by, and Joel grinds his teeth so hard he thinks he might have flattened a couple of them. Ellie’s avoided severe injuries since the dislocated shoulder, but Joel still sees enough scrapes on her to know when she’s been in a fight. He never asks, and she never explains.

Doesn’t mean he likes seeing it though.

“It’s whatever,” Ellie says with a shrug when she sees him glancing at them. Tess is out scoping their route out of the QZ for one more run for supplies before they get the battery from Robert, so it’s just him there when she lets herself in the fire escape. If Joel happened to have unlocked the window and left it cracked earlier in the day, well... that was just a coincidence. It got stuffy in there sometimes was all, and some air circulation was needed.

Ellie opens her mouth like she wants to say more but just as quickly closes it, and Joel takes a deep breath.

Probably should get this over with, tell her they’re leaving now. She can get mad or upset or however she’s gonna react, he can’t really say, and then she’ll leave and that will be the end of it.

That’s how it should be, and that’s fine.

Tess opens the door before Joel can find the words, and he doesn’t like the relief that washes through him at the delay he's been handed.

“All good?” Joel asks, and Tess shoots a look at Ellie before she nods.

Ellie, however, misses nothing, and there’s a forced casualness to her next words. “You guys going on a run?”

She’s too perceptive, and even if she wasn’t, she’s spent enough time following Joel around that she’s more or less guessed what they do. They never confirm it, refuse to answer her questions, but Ellie’s observant and smart. It’s a pain in the ass sometimes, just like she is.

“Joel.” Tess’s voice is patient but there’s a warning note in it. They’d agreed that Ellie would be told today and that Joel would do it, the thought being she would take it better from him. She liked Tess, was comfortable around her and clearly somewhat attached to her.

But Joel was her favorite. It was obvious, and Tess had tried to tease him about it on more than one occasion. He didn’t like the way the words - Ellie’s favorite - settled under his skin and itched, and he had snapped at Tess to leave it alone. He didn’t want to be anyone’s favorite, ever again, least of all hers.

“Let’s get you home,” Joel says to Ellie instead of answering Tess. Ellie makes a noise of protest, arguing that she’s only been there thirty minutes and it’s not even curfew, but Joel just stares at her until she puts her shoes back on.

Take care of it is what the look Tess sends him says, eyebrow arched and lips pursed.

I will, Joel mouths back with a wave of his hand.

Tess very clearly does not believe him.

–-

Joel stops walking as they’re passing the alleyway where he first stopped those guys from beating her up and later popped her shoulder back into its socket. Ellie doesn’t realize it until he calls her name, waiting till she’s turned around before he steps off the sidewalk and into the alley.

Seems like a fitting place to do this, really, full circle or some shit like that.

When did he get to be so fucking sentimental?

Ellie’s barely stepped into the alley before Joel is blurting out “Tess and I are leaving the QZ.”

Ellie freezes in place, eyeing him warily. “Like…on a supply run? You’ll be back in a couple days?”

“No.” He doesn’t miss how the line of her shoulders goes rigid, one hand balling into a fist and the other tucking into the pocket he knows she keeps her knife in. “My brother’s stopped responding to our radio calls and we gotta go find him.”

Ellie shakes her head like she’s trying to dislodge her thoughts. “Hang on. You have a fucking brother?” When Joel nods, she makes an angry noise. “Didn’t think to mention him in the last few months? Got any other family members you’ve never mentioned?”

A glimpse, in his mind’s eye, of curly hair and a bright smile, and then he’s saying curtly, “No.” She’s glaring at him, and he doesn’t understand why. Ellie’s not entitled to know everything about him, for all that she acts like she is. She’s certainly not entitled to his past. “Anyways, I wanted to tell you so that you didn’t wonder why we weren’t there if you showed up at the apartment.”

“Fuck you, man,” Ellie spits at him, taking a step backward. She’s practically vibrating with anger, a reaction Joel hadn’t quite expected. He knew she would be pissed, but he hadn’t thought she would be this pissed. This was…almost an outsize reaction. “You guys are leaving? And not coming back?”

They might, Joel wants to say, once they find Tommy and get him out of whatever mess he’s in. It would be awhile from now, but they might come back.

It wouldn’t be fair to say that to Ellie though, because any number of things could go wrong. They could die, or worse - get infected. They could find somewhere else to live out there. It could take them ages to find Tommy, or they might never find him.

He’s not gonna give her false hope.

“We’re making a run out to an associate of ours that’ll take a day or two. And then after that, yeah, we’re leavin’ and not plannin’ to come back.”

Ellie just stares at him, abandonment written all over her face and goddamnit this sort of thing is exactly why he didn’t want her hanging around him. He should’ve done better at pushing her away, should’ve made sure she stayed away after the whole shoulder thing. He let this get too far and now it’s…

Now it’s all fucked up.

“Fuck you,” Ellie says again, but the anger is gone from her voice. She just sounds sad, and all the instincts Joel has been smothering for months come rushing to the surface again, the ones that scream at him to comfort her, to make it better, to teach her how to fight off her bullies. To be someone she can rely on.

Joel stuffs them back down again, ignoring the way it burns him from the inside out to do so. “Ellie –”

“Save it,” she says, no longer looking at him. “I should’ve known better, nobody fucking sticks around for me. Have a pleasant trip, I hope the two of you fall into a ravine somewhere.”

Ellie spins on her heel and stomps off in the direction of her school and Joel trails her to the entrance of the alleyway, watching her recede into the darkness.

–-

Tess doesn’t mention the way Joel is more short-tempered over the next few days, but he sees the sidelong glances she’s shooting him when she thinks he’s not looking. He snaps at her more than she deserves, apologizes only half the time, and he doesn’t blame her in the slightest for keeping her distance on their hike back to the QZ. Their run took three days longer than it should’ve thanks to a rainstorm that caused a flash flood, but the new guns, ammo, and FEDRA-issued map they’ve picked up are undamaged and that’s what matters.

The map was a bonus, something lifted from a patrol when it camped near where their associates - they never gave names and neither did Joel and Tess - usually do business. It has the known settlements, fallen and active QZs, and Infected colonies all marked on it across the country, dated four months ago. Probably more important than anything else they’ll bring along.

Tess goes up the stairs ahead of him and Joel lingers behind, willing to give her her space while it’s still an option. He’ll probably be on the couch tonight, and he deserves it, honestly.

“Joel!” Tess’s voice is alarmed and it breaks him from his thoughts, sending him up the stairs two at a time.

He bursts into their living room, gun drawn and raised, only to lower it when he sees Tess staring at…Ellie?

Ellie, whose face is red and puffy, hair a mess and a bruise under one eye. Ellie, who is smeared with blood and Joel can’t tell if it’s hers or not.

Ellie, who has a bite mark on her forearm.

There’s no air in the room as he stares at the wound on her arm, at the indicator that he’s gone and failed a little girl again. Already the what ifs are spinning in his brain, what if he hadn’t decided to leave to find Tommy, what if they hadn’t had a fight, what if he and Tess hadn’t been stuck for those extra days, what if –

Joel flicks the safety on his gun and sets it on the table, walks into the other room and puts his fist through the wall.

–-

When he’s calmed down enough, Joel walks back into the living room and picks up the gun. He sees Ellie flinch and then relax as he tucks it into the back of his pants. Tess has set herself up against the kitchen counter, as far from Ellie as she can possibly get, hand wrapped around the gun held at her side. It’s aimed at the floor, but Joel still places himself between her and Ellie, just in case.

“How –” the word comes out choked, so Joel clears his throat and tries again. “How long ago?”

Ellie watches him, chewing on her bottom lip until she takes a deep breath and says, “The day after you said you guys were leaving.”

Joel frowns, shoots a glance over his shoulder at Tess who looks just as perplexed as he does. He thinks back, carefully, counting twice to be sure.

That would have been…five days ago.

That’s not possible. People make it a day and a half - maybe - if they were bit on the leg. Arm bites usually mean it’s over in less than a day, twelve hours at the most.

Five days is unheard of. It’s…impossible.

“Are you sure?” Joel asks, watching her closely. Ellie nods, taking a shaky breath. “Start from the beginning.”

Ellie looks down at her arm again, covering the bite with her hand. “My friend Riley left and joined the Fireflies a couple weeks ago. Hadn’t seen or heard from her since, and then she showed up in my room – well, it used to be our room until she fucking left. But she showed up the night after I was last here with you guys, said she had a surprise for me, and we snuck out to the mall.”

Tess makes a noise of surprise from behind him. “The mall that’s sealed off because there’s Infected inside?”

“Riley said there wasn’t,” Ellie replies uncertainly, and Joel refrains from pointing out that Riley, whoever she was, clearly had some bad information on that front. “She had been stationed there and she was gonna get moved out to Atlanta. She wanted to show me the wonders of the mall as a farewell present.” Her gaze drops, and Joel sees a tear as it trails down her cheek before she wipes it away. “Anyways,” she says to her shoes, “there was one Infected there apparently, sleeping or whatever it is they do. We made too much noise and it found us, got us both. Riley…” Ellie stops talking.

Joel doesn’t need her to continue though, he can put the pieces together himself.

The urge to hug her is nearly overwhelming, but even before he and Tess planned to leave they weren’t quite…there. It had been a good thing, up until this point.

“And you’re sure that was the day after we last saw you?” Joel asks gently, and Ellie nods. “Can I…” he hesitates, looks at Tess again. Her face is unreadable and she’s watching Ellie with all the focus of a hawk looking at a mouse. “Can I see your arm?”

Ellie looks up at him, brown eyes mistrustful in a way he hasn’t seen from her in months. “Leave your gun over there.” She indicates the table with her chin, and Joel immediately places his pistol there, walking towards her with his hands in the air.

She extends her arm when he gets close enough, movements jerky like she’s thinking about yanking it away as his hand comes up to loosely encircle her wrist. Joel rotates it carefully, studying the bite.

It’s raised, clearly inflamed, small tendrils extending out of it in various directions.

But it’s also scabbed over in spots, clearly healing, and the tendrils don’t go farther than a couple inches from the bite itself.

“Tess…” Joel looks back at her, not letting go of Ellie’s wrist, “come look at this.” When she starts to step forward he adds, “Leave the gun over there.”

She doesn’t look happy about it, but she sets hers next to his and then comes over to join them. She doesn’t touch Ellie, just peers over Joel’s shoulder at her arm and then backs away again, rubbing a hand down her face.

“How the fuck is this possible?” She mutters, but neither Joel nor Ellie respond.

“I kept waiting for it to happen,” Ellie says softly, and Joel looks back at her. He’s still holding her wrist, but he doesn’t let go and she doesn’t pull away. “After Riley…I kept waiting and waiting. I think I sat in the mall for like a day, but it didn’t spread. And I didn’t feel any different.” A tear slips down her cheek again and without thought Joel reaches up and brushes it away for her.

He can’t tell who’s more surprised, him or Ellie.

“I didn’t want to leave the mall,” Ellie says after a moment, “in case it was like a delayed reaction or something, I thought that would be the best place to stay so I couldn’t hurt anyone. But then I started hearing people, and I panicked and ran.”

“And came here?”

Ellie nods. “I was kind of afraid you guys would shoot me on sight, but you weren’t here and I thought maybe you’d already left to find your brother.”

“We got held up by some weather.”

Ellie just stares at him, looking for all the world like a scared child. It’s unsettling, considering how fearless she usually tries to act, how she puts up a tough front all the time.

It’s terrifying, how it seems to crack something open in his chest.

“Am I gonna turn into one of those things?” The question comes out wobbly, fearful, and Joel releases her wrist so that he can run his hand over the top of her head instead. There’s a moment of surprise from her - and Joel has to wonder if him suddenly deciding physical reassurance is a thing he does is too much for her to handle right now - and then she leans into it.

“I don’t know, kid,” he replies honestly. He’d love to just be able to say no, of course you’re not but he doesn’t want to lie to her or give her false hope. He has no idea what they’re up against here. “I think it’s promising that nothing has happened to you yet, but I’ve never seen this happen before.”

“What do I do?”

Joel looks over at Tess, chewing her lip and pacing in their small kitchen space, and then back down at Ellie. She’s pale, dark circles under her eyes.

“Right now, I think you need to sleep,” Joel says gently. Ellie shakes her head, ponytail sticking to her cheek briefly.

“No, because what if I fall asleep and that’s it? Next time I wake up I’m infected?”

“I’ll watch you,” Joel promises. “I’ll wake you up if necessary. But you look like you haven’t slept in awhile, and it will help you feel better. C’mon.” He nudges her towards the couch until she sits down on it, squatting in front of her to take off her shoes and set them by the wall. Reluctantly, Ellie lays down and lets Joel drape a blanket over her, and within a minute she’s out.

When he turns back to Tess she’s watching him warily. He doesn’t know what she’s going to say but he speaks first, his words coming out in a rush.

“She can’t stay in the QZ.”

Tess lets her head fall back, staring at the ceiling. “What do you wanna do, take her with us?” Joel stays silent and she looks back at him, sighing. “You wanna take her with us.”

“She can’t stay in the QZ,” Joel repeats, careful to keep his tone low.

“Joel.” Tess’s tone is frustrated and she runs a hand through her hair. “Out there is not any safer than in here. It’s worse actually. Plus, people out there that see her bite will shoot her just as fast as people in here, and we don't even know that she won't turn.”

It’s entirely too easy to pull up an image of Ellie, bleeding from a bullet wound in her stomach just like Sarah.

He can’t let it happen again.

“We can’t leave her here.”

Tess lets out a frustrated noise, both of them going still when Ellie shifts in her sleep. Joel doesn’t like the way it makes Tess’s hand twitch like she wants to reach for the gun on the table, even if it’s an impulse he understands.

Her attention moves back to him, resignation in her eyes. “Fuck.” She steps forward and picks up her pistol.

Instinctively, Joel steps between her and Ellie, and he doesn’t miss the way Tess’s expression shutters as she pointedly tucks the gun into the back of her waistband.

“I’m gonna go see about the battery, and hope Robert didn’t decide to screw us over for being late.”

Joel can tell just how bad she’d love to slam the door behind her, but she doesn’t.

–-

Ellie stays asleep for the entire time Tess is gone, so still at times Joel reaches forward to make sure she’s still breathing. He keeps his gun in reach but doesn’t hold it.

He doesn’t want to scare her the way waking up to see him sitting there, pistol in hand, is sure to do.

–-

Tess returns after six hours - he’d been worried four hours ago but knew he couldn’t leave Ellie alone, for her safety and the safety of the others in their building - without the battery.

With a black eye.

Joel is on his feet immediately, reaching for her chin. “What –”

Tess brushes his hand away gently, turning to the freezer and pulling out a handful of ice that she wraps in a towel. “Robert sold the battery out from under us, and one of his men didn’t take kindly to my telling them what I thought of that.” She sighs, leaning forward to brace her elbows on the counter, one hand pressing the bundle of ice to her face. “Then the building we were in got fucking bombed by Fireflies and I almost got grabbed by FEDRA.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Tess glances up, eyes raking over Ellie. “Any change?”

Joel shakes his head. “Nothing.”

There’s a sigh that seems to come from deep within Tess, and she pulls the ice pack away from her face. “Alright, how are we doing this?”

–-

Ellie sleeps through the entirety of his and Tess’s planning session, even as the sun goes down, and it makes Joel wonder just how long she kept herself awake out of the fear of waking up a monster.

He steps over to check on her a couple times, make sure the tendrils on her forearm haven’t grown.

They never have, and he can breathe a little easier each time he steps back over to the map they have spread across the table.

–-

Tess lays down to get some sleep for a couple hours, the two of them deciding they’ll head out after midnight. Bill and Frank’s will be their first stop, hopefully for a vehicle, but for supplies if nothing else. Walking across the whole country doesn’t sound particularly appealing, but if it’s their only option then it’s their only option.

–-

Joel wakes Tess first, letting her double check their packs while he wakes Ellie. She’s groggy - anyone would be after sleeping nearly eight hours that deeply, Joel reminds himself - but her eyes are still brown and her bite is unchanged.

“We’re leaving,” Joel says gently, regretting his word choice as soon as her eyes go wide with panic and she scrambles to sit upright. “We, meaning you and me and Tess,” he adds hastily.

“I – you guys are taking me with you?” Ellie asks uncertainly, eyes darting between him and Tess.

“It’s not safe for you here,” Joel replies, a sliver of doubt creeping in. He had just kind of decided that she would come with him and Tess, hadn’t really thought to ask her, and if she wanted to stay in the QZ –

“Let’s go then.” Ellie’s already shoving her feet back in her shoes, walking past him to pick up a backpack he hadn’t even noticed in the corner. She pulls down the sleeve of her hoodie to cover her arm and then stands there and stares at him. “What, you made it sound like we were going now.”

“We are,” Tess calls from behind him, shouldering her own backpack. “Let’s get a move on, shift change by the wall is in twenty minutes.” She hands Joel his bag, and steps to the door. Her hand reaches for the knob.

There’s a knock, and immediately Joel and Tess draw their guns. He looks back at Ellie, sees her pull out the switchblade she always carries and flick it open.

Smart girl.

“Stay behind us.” Joel orders quietly, stepping to the left a little so she’s shielded from view. She nods at him, jaw set, and he turns to nod at Tess. He’s got a sneaking suspicion of who’s on the other side of the door, one that’s confirmed when Tess swings it open, gun raising.

Marlene and the woman with her immediately point theirs back at her, and Joel raises his as well, disengaging the safety.

Marlene’s eyes bounce around the apartment, taking in their packs. “Where is she?”

Joel doesn’t answer, keeps his gun pointed straight at her face even as the women step into the apartment.

Ellie must move behind him or something, because Marlene’s eyes zero in on a space next to him, and she lowers her gun.

“Ellie, I need you to come with me.” A nod at the other woman, and she lowers her gun as well.

Ellie doesn’t move. “I don’t think so.”

Marlene holds out a hand towards her, takes a step forward that’s halted by Joel’s gun leveling with her heart. “Ellie, I need to take you somewhere safe.”

“She’s plenty safe here,” Joel snarls at the same time Ellie snaps “Lady, I don’t fuckin’ know you so I don’t exactly feel safe.”

“She will be safe with me,” Marlene addresses Joel. Behind her, Tess closes the door with a snap, and Joel steps in front of Ellie again. “You can’t even begin to understand how important she is.”

Joel’s eyes narrow, considering the near-desperation on her face, and a new possibility dawns on him. Whatever’s going on with Ellie, being bitten and not turning…Marlene knows about it. Knows why.

“What do you want with her?”

Marlene drops the hand she’d been holding out. “That’s not your concern.”

“I’m making it my concern,” he snaps in response. “Explain, or eat a bullet.”

Marlene doesn’t take her eyes from Joel as she asks, “Ellie, were you there when Riley got bit?”

Joel feels Ellie shift behind him, but she doesn’t let Marlene see her. “How do you know about Riley?”

“I recruited her,” Marlene says gently, and Ellie goes tense behind him. “I put her in the mall. I thought it was clear, I don’t know how we missed the Infected, and I’m sorry about that.” Ellie doesn’t respond, and Marlene asks again, “Were you there with her?”

Joel doesn’t even have to tell Ellie not to answer, she just stays quiet behind him.

“You were bit too, weren’t you?” Marlene guesses, and Ellie steps so close behind him he can feel her breath on his back. “And you didn’t turn.”

The air in the room goes still like everyone’s stopped breathing. Joel certainly feels like he has, like he knows whatever Marlene says next is going to upend his life more than it already has been.

Marlene sucks in a breath, releases it.

“We think, because of you, we can make a cure.”

Chapter Text

“You sure about this?”

Joel glances over to where Ellie is standing near Marlene, watching them warily, and then looks back at Tess.

“No,” he says heavily, his voice low. “But I know I’m not about to let the Fireflies just take her. I wouldn’t trust them with a houseplant, let alone a teenager, even if they think she’s gonna save the world.”

Tess’s hands are resting on her hips, her expression hard. “They need her alive, and they have more manpower and more firepower than us.”

“I said they’re not takin’ her, Tess.” He doesn’t know how the two of them ended up on opposite ends of this, but he’s not budging. Ellie’s not leaving his sight, not after she’s been bitten, and especially not with any fucking Fireflies. “We take her, or if you don’t wanna come then I’ll do it myself.”

Tess snorts. “Yeah, like I’m gonna bail on your ass now. Fine, we take her.”

“Not just to the State House,” Joel clarifies, reaching out a hand to stop her when she starts to walk past him. “We take her there, we get them to tell us where they’re takin’ her next. She stays with us, as long as possible.”

There’s a long, searching look from his partner, leaving him feeling flayed open in a way he doesn’t quite care for, before she simply nods and walks back over to Ellie and Marlene.

–-

It’s an unspoken agreement that at least one of them will be awake at all times, both for general safety, and to keep an eye on Ellie. Joel keeps waiting for the trick, the moment Ellie turns to them with tendrils coming out of her mouth, eyes yellowed. But it’s been seven days now since she was supposedly bitten, and her bite is more scar than anything, fresh pink skin taking over the scabs.

Every hour that passes with Ellie remaining the same smartass he met months ago is an hour he feels like he can breathe easier.

An hour he doesn’t have to worry about shooting a teenage girl.

“Would you be able to do it?” Tess had asked him when they were barely out of Boston, Ellie distracted by the view from the dilapidated bridge they were crossing.

Joel doesn’t have to ask what she means, and he doesn’t want to answer. But he can’t immediately say yes, which is answer enough for Tess, who just looks back over at Ellie. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Her eyes trace over Ellie, now peering over the edge of the bridge in a way that makes Joel want to yell at her to step back. “Don’t worry, Miller. If it came down to it, I would do it. I like Ellie, a hell of a lot actually. But I wouldn’t make you kill your own kid.”

Her words slice through him like knives, shredding the air in his lungs and leaving him incapable of following her when she starts to step away.

She’s – Ellie’s not –

The words get caught in his throat, but even if he could force them out, Tess is too close to Ellie now, tugging her back from the concrete barrier with a hand on her backpack.

Ellie’s not his kid. He cares about her, of course he does, but she’s not his kid. He only had the one, and he can’t do it again, can’t go through something like Sarah again. His gaze slips down to his watch, anchors there.

Ellie’s not his kid.

–-

Tess’s words won’t leave him though, even after she has. Save who you can save, she had said, right before Joel dragged Ellie out of that building and far enough away that the blast barely knocked them over.

I wouldn’t make you kill your own kid.

Ellie’s still not his kid - she can’t be - but if somehow this bite is the one that turns her, Tess is gone. Joel will have to be the one to do it.

He doesn’t think he can.

–-

He watches her like a hawk for the next day, waiting for any indication that this bite will be different. And he’s making her nervous, he can tell, but he can’t help it. If something happens, he needs to know as soon as possible.

Nothing happens though - her new bite heals and scabs and scars same as the first one, and by the time they make it to Bill and Frank’s he’s mostly past worrying that she’ll have some kind of delayed reaction.

Mostly.

Ellie doesn’t say anything to him after she reads Bill’s letter aloud, scooting away from him like she needs to give him space to grieve.

Joel doesn’t really have a lot of grief left in him at this point though. Sure, Bill and Frank were the closest thing he’d had to friends in the last twenty years, but there had always been walls between them he hadn’t been willing to dismantle. Bill had been the same way, standoffish and remote, the two of them willing to wait silently off to the side while Tess and Frank got on like a house on fire.

So he’s sad, a bit. Disappointed as well. But he also knows that what the two of them had for over a decade was difficult to find even before the world went to utter shit. So if this is the way they chose to go out, together and on their own terms, then he’s not gonna begrudge them that. He can be happy for them even, if happiness is something you can feel when people you’ve known for years are dead.

Plus, Joel thinks wryly, glancing over at Ellie where she’s poking around, touching things and generally being a curious kid, he’s not sure the world could have handled a Bill and Ellie meeting.

–-

Ellie seems to sense that he’s not gonna lose it or fall apart, because by the time they get to the garage she’s teasing him about his smell, like she’s any better.

Joel reaches out to gently tug at her ponytail in retaliation, an instinct that he can’t quite smother.

The joking words about her b.o. die in his throat when he sees the flinch she tries to bury as his hand comes towards her. They don’t touch much, him and Ellie, aside from those moments the night she’d told him and Tess about being bitten, and Joel hopes she would know by now that he’s not gonna hurt her.

(He deeply regrets the time he threatened to dislocate her shoulder again to try to scare her off. Joel had known it was an empty threat, but Ellie probably hadn’t.)

Ellie covers the flinch, elbows him playfully in the side as she passes on her way out the door, and Joel starts to get the feeling that it wasn’t about her being afraid of him.

Just her being afraid of hands coming near her in general.

He’d seen enough bruises on her, cuts and scrapes and black eyes, to know she got into more than her fair share of fights at FEDRA school. She was small, which probably made her an easy target, Joel surmises, still staring out the doorway she’d left through.

But now he wonders for the first time how many of those bruises had been put there by grown-ass adults instead of snotty kids.

–-

The sun is already lower in the sky when they pull out of Bill’s compound, and Joel thinks for a second about turning back, staying there for the night in one of the abandoned houses. He and Tess had done it a couple times, when weather or raiders intervened, so he knows that there’s structurally sound houses and decently comfortable mattresses. They probably should take the opportunity to sleep on one while they can, since it’s gonna be something close to camping for however long it takes them to get to Wyoming.

But the itch to get away from here, from this place full of memories of people he no longer has, is a little too strong, so he keeps the truck pointed west-southwest and spares a final glance for the compound fading in the rearview mirror.

–-

“Nobody’s gonna find us, right?”

Ellie’s voice is small, unsure, from where she lays in her sleeping bag, and Joel looks over at her.

“Nobody’s gonna find us,” Joel says with a poor attempt at sounding reassuring. Ellie just looks at him skeptically and then nods and rolls back onto her side so she’s facing away from him. He keeps his eyes on her for a bit, waiting until her breathing evens out enough for him to be sure she’s asleep.

Quietly as possible, Joel wriggles from his sleeping bag and picks up the rifle.

He really doesn’t think anyone will find them out here, far from the road and in the woods. But the worry in Ellie’s voice had crept under his skin, poked at his own anxieties about keeping her safe. Sleeping with his good ear up wasn’t gonna be sufficient in case someone came creeping up on them - he needed to keep watch.

Nothing was gonna happen to Ellie if he could stop it.

–-

A cracking branch wakes Joel from the slight doze he’d been in against the tire of the truck, and he’s on his feet immediately.

Another branch cracks and Joel whips around, pulling the rifle up and bracing it against his shoulder, making sure he’s positioned between whatever it is and Ellie.

It’s not a person though, but a deer. Big fucker too, the kind that he and Tommy would have taken home and fed themselves with for weeks. Set of antlers that some people he knew Before would’ve died to have on their wall.

“Ellie,” Joel says softly, glancing over his shoulder at her as he lowers the rifle. “Ellie.”

He doesn’t wanna alarm her, but considering she’s never been out of the QZ before, Joel would be willing to bet she’s never seen a deer before, let alone this close.

“Ellie.”

She stirs a little in her sleeping bag but doesn’t wake.

The buck eyes him for another moment before it turns and steps away.

Joel sighs, a little disappointed he didn’t get to show Ellie, didn’t get to see her excitement. But it’s okay, Joel tells himself as he rests the rifle on the tailgate and starts to pull out supplies for breakfast. There’ll be other chances.

–-

He slurps the coffee just to annoy her, the same way she talks loudly and tells him bad jokes and awful puns to annoy him. It’s how they work, how they’ve more or less worked since he scared off some bullies and put her shoulder back in its socket.

It should be abrasive, the names they throw at each other, the barbs, but it’s nothing but companionable really.

The word you’re looking for is ‘affectionate’, a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Tess says.

Joel shoves it away, glancing over at the map Ellie holds, double checking her navigation. They’d had to go south around Pittsburgh and then skirt around the edges of Louisville. The FEDRA map he’d swiped had marked the entire area between Omaha and Indianapolis as overrun, and they’d been pushed further south than Joel had planned on. Now he was just hoping to get them around Kansas City - marked as a still-standing QZ - and then start curving back north again.

–-

Henry’s body hits the ground with a sickening thud and the sound that tears from Ellie’s throat is one Joel knows will haunt him for the rest of his life.

He feels frozen in shock, still not sure how everything went so horribly wrong so incredibly fast. Ellie screaming, Sam on top of her clawing at her. Sam infected. Henry with the gun pointed at him so he can’t help Ellie, Henry shooting his brother to save her, and then himself.

And the whole time, Joel had just stood there, powerless. Useless. Absolutely eaten alive from the inside at the fear that he was about to watch Ellie ripped apart in front of him.

There had been a split second of heart-wrenching agony thinking that Henry had missed, had hit Ellie, that it was her blood spilling across the floor.

Ellie turns to look at him, pupils blown wide with terror, and instantly he’s moving, stepping past Henry’s prone form and keeping his eyes away from Sam’s. Ellie reaches for him at the same moment he reaches for her and it’s a frantic scramble to get her onto her feet.

Joel lifts her, carrying her against him until they’re in the other room and he can kick the door shut behind him. Ellie’s trembling, and Joel sets her down gently, hands coming up to cup her face.

“Hey, hey, baby girl, look at me.” Her eyes lift, tears clinging to her lashes. “Are you hurt?” She shakes her head and leans forward, dropping her forehead against his chest, and her shaking worsens until Joel feels like they’re both vibrating with an awful electric current.

There’s nothing for him to do but wrap his arms around her, one hand coming up to cup the back of her head. Hell, he’s shaking too, hand unsteady as it runs over her ponytail.

He doesn’t know what terrifies him more, how close he just came to losing her, or the fact that she’s sobbing against him right now, clinging to him almost desperately. Ellie doesn’t do this. She didn’t even have this reaction after she shot a kid to save his ass, didn’t have it after she narrowly escaped an Infected horde the night before, saw people ripped apart and mauled to death right in front of her.

She didn’t even do this after Tess died, not that he’d seen anyways.

Ellie is resilient in a way no kid should have to be, and the fact that she’s crumbling right now makes him want to come apart at the seams in turn.

He’s not quite sure how long they stand there, Ellie’s face pressed against his chest while he rubs her back and sways them back and forth. He just feels useless. Couldn’t protect her in the museum, almost got them killed in Kansas City, watched from a distance unable to help as that clicker crawled into the car with her.

And now this.

“Are you okay?” Ellie finally asks him, pulling back and running a hand under her nose. “H-Henry shot at you.”

Joel runs a hand over the top of her head again, brushing back a few strands that have escaped. “He was aimin’ at the ground, he didn’t hit me.”

“Okay.” Her eyes come to rest on the damp patch on the front of his shirt, and she flushes. “Sorry about that,” she mutters, stepping back and wiping her cheeks.

“It’s alright, it’ll dry,” he reassures her.

Ellie sniffs, clears her throat. Neither of them seems to know what to say - what can you even say after something like that?

Joel’s hands are still shaking, and he tucks them into his pockets so Ellie doesn’t see. He doesn’t know how to get the image of her, fighting with Sam and screaming for him, out of his head. The way it made his heart seize, his vision narrow.

You’re about to relive the worst day of your life, the voice in his head had whispered.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought it either. The FEDRA guard pointing a gun at her when they were so close to escaping the QZ had been –

Well, it had knocked him out of the present enough that when he had come back, the guard had been a bloody pulp and his hand had been fractured. Ellie had been staring at him with this odd look in her eyes. Not fear - he knew for a fact she wasn’t afraid of him - but maybe…appreciation? Understanding?

Either way, it had wedged that crack in his chest wider, made it big enough for her to slip all the way in, and now - after Henry and Sam - he knew there was no way to pull her out.

–-

“We should bury them,” Ellie says, her voice flat, not meeting his gaze while she fidgets with her backpack. “They were our friends, and they deserve to be buried.”

It’ll take too much time and energy, Joel wants to say. We need to get moving, get more distance between us and the city. They’ve already spent too much time in this motel, the acrid smell of blood hanging in the air. It’s unlikely that anyone from Kansas City would be after them, but there might be desperate people trying to escape.

Not to mention the massive horde of Infected that had come bursting out of the ground and created plenty of new monsters last night.

But Ellie looks hollowed out, utterly unlike herself, and the only thing Joel can end up saying is “Wait here” while he pulls the sheets from the beds and goes to look for a shovel.

Ellie insists on digging alongside him, saying they need to make one large grave for Henry and Sam together. They can’t be separated, she insists, so he lets her mark out the size of it while he works on the depth.

Joel refuses to let her help him retrieve the bodies though, makes her wait outside while he wraps them and carries them out, setting them in the hole as gently as possible. She only argues a little bit and then she falls silent.

He doesn’t have words for how much he hates that.

She leaves the board with I’m sorry on top of Sam’s resting spot and then walks away. Now she’s the one hurrying him along, while Joel trails behind her and tries to figure out how to keep these wounds from scarring on her.

–-

Ten minutes after they’ve walked away from the motel, Ellie is still silent, but she walks close enough to bump into him frequently.

She wraps her hand around the strap of his backpack near the bottom and doesn’t let go for hours.

–-

Joel never thought he could miss bad puns so much. She’d told him and Tess a couple, perched on their couch or kitchen counter, but it wasn’t until after Bill and Frank’s that she’d really started bombarding him with them, pulling them out of a book she kept in her backpack.

He refused to let her know how much he enjoyed some of them, even threatening to shred the book after a bad one about stationery. At least his delirious giggling at the diarrhea one could be blamed on exhaustion and stress; otherwise he was careful not to let her see him smiling at them.

But now she’s silent, Will Livingston tucked away in her backpack. Joel thinks about telling her one he’d remembered - one about eating clocks he thinks she would enjoy - but he swallows it down, keeps it inside right next to his I’m sorrys.

Without her chatter and only the monotony of putting one foot in front of the other and keeping an eye out for trouble, it’s too easy for Joel to ruminate on everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours. All the ways he’s failed.

They’d lost the truck and nearly all the supplies in it. They had nearly died multiple times, in what should be a terrifying variety of ways. Ellie had been attacked by someone who had been her friend only the night before, and they had both had to watch that friend and his brother die.

He’d called her baby girl.

It wasn’t like he meant to do it. It had just kind of slipped out, emerged from those old buried habits, back when comforting an upset teenager had been second nature. Not that he’d ever had to comfort Sarah after anything like this - her worst problems had been a bad grade, being told no on going to her friend’s on a school night. Not murder and death and trauma and losing your friends the worst possible way.

Ellie hadn’t seemed to register it when he said it, Joel thinks with a bit of relief. Now he just had to keep himself from letting it out again. He’d already admitted to himself that Ellie mattered to him, that she had made herself a space in his chest. But caring deeply about someone these days was practically a guarantee for hurt down the road.

Besides, baby girl was what he had called his daughter.

And Ellie wasn’t his kid.

–-

They make camp that evening in an abandoned cabin set back from the road they’d been following. The map that Joel had been so glad to have was less than helpful right now, considering it was nationwide and covered only major interstates. Joel knew vaguely the direction they were going, but what they really needed was a state level map if they could find one, to avoid getting even more off track.

Ellie’s quiet as they eat their cans of food that night, doors barricaded and a small fire going in the fireplace.

(After Joel had inspected it carefully and given Ellie a lecture about the various ways that an improperly cleaned chimney could start a house fire that he knew she wasn’t listening to. One of them had needed to fill the silence.)

When they’re done eating Ellie tugs down the cushions from the couch and lines them up on the floor, just like they had in that skyscraper in Kansas City. Doesn’t really make sense to him, Joel thinks as he smothers the fire, since leaving them on the couch would probably be more comfortable.

But then he turns and sees she’s scooted them over next to where he had left the rifle, where he was planning to sit and keep watch from.

Joel doesn’t acknowledge it, other than to give her the closest thing he can offer to a smile when he settles back down next to her. The room’s nearly dark now, illuminated only by the moonlight creeping through the one window Joel had left uncovered. His eyes start to adjust and after a few minutes he can make out the shape of Ellie, a few feet away on the cushions.

Her eyes had closed almost immediately, but he can tell she’s not falling asleep.

“Joel?” Ellie whispers into the darkness.

“Yeah?”

She shifts, rustling the cushions a bit. “Do you think they’ll be able to make a cure?”

No is the immediate answer, ready on the tip of his tongue. There’s been talk, rumors, hope of a cure for years, since before Ellie would’ve been born. Over and over Joel’s heard that cordyceps can’t be vaccinated against because it’s not a virus or a disease. It can’t be cured for the very same reason.

But there’s also never been an immune person before that Joel’s heard of, and he can hear it in Ellie’s voice how badly she needs him to say yes.
“I don’t know,” he settles on saying, and he knows it’s not what she wants to hear. “If you had asked me six months ago, I would’ve said absolutely not. But now…I don’t know. Maybe they’ll be able to do it. Marlene’s no fool, so if she thinks they can do it, there’s probably a good chance.”

“I tried to save Sam,” she whispers, so quietly it takes Joel a second to register what he’s heard.

He shifts a little, scooting closer to her. “What do you mean?”

“I cut my hand.” Joel hears her moving and then sees the shadow of her hand reaching towards him. He reaches out and takes it blindly, rotating it carefully and gently probing.

A scab, running vertically across her palm, and her words finally sink in. Joel inhales sharply. “You knew he was infected?”

Ellie’s hand twitches in his but she doesn’t pull it away. “He showed me his bite. I thought I could f-fix it, that you and Henry wouldn’t have to know. So I cut my hand and rubbed some of the blood on his bite and I th-thought it would stop it.”

Joel presses his lips shut against the lecture that wants to burst forth, about bloodborne illnesses and cuts getting infected and telling him when someone around them is fucking infected.

But, at the bottom of it, Ellie’s a scared kid who was trying to save her friend, and Joel can’t find it in him to yell at her the way he might’ve three months ago.

“Why didn’t it work?” Ellie sniffles and Joel doesn’t acknowledge it other than to squeeze her hand gently, mindful of the cut. In the time he’s known Ellie she’s made it pretty clear that she values her tough exterior, doesn’t care to display her emotions. He’d be willing to bet the only reason she cried on his shirt earlier that day had been simple overwhelm, the events of the previous two days catching up to her until she couldn’t fight it off anymore.

“I don’t really know shit about science,” Joel admits, “but my guess is it’s gonna take more than just your blood. When we get to the Fireflies I’m guessin’ they’ll take your blood and mix it with other stuff, figure out how it works. And hopefully that means a cure or a vaccine or somethin’.”

“It will,” Ellie replies determinedly, like she can will it into fact. Her hand tightens around his. “It’s gonna work. I’m gonna save the fucking world.”

Listening to her, Joel can almost believe it.

–-

They settle into something like a routine, which is an absurd thought considering how they never quite know what each day is going to hold for them.

But they get up - Ellie from several hours of sleep, Joel from whatever doze he manages - check their supplies, and start walking. If there’s a stream or moving body of water nearby they stop, fill their canteens through filters (and Joel is never not grateful that he’d put one in each of their backpacks instead of in one of the other bags in the truck). They stay shaded as much as possible, but sometimes the only way to accomplish that is to drape their jackets over their heads.

Joel would rather risk the sunburn than have his vision restricted.

He tries to keep track of what day it is, approximately, so he knows how long they’ve been walking and can get an estimate of how long it’ll take them to reach Wyoming.

Right now they might as well be trying to walk all the way to the southernmost tip of South America, Wyoming feels so impossibly far away.

He loses track of the days almost immediately, and Ellie is little help. She comes back to herself a little more each day with the space they put between them and Kansas City, starts telling her shitty puns again, talking his ear off again.

It’s refreshing, and reassuring as hell.

At first, Ellie spends most of the day walking right next to him, hand looped through his backpack strap on the right. He gets used to it, learns to compensate for her weight and positioning there, like tugging a pet along. He knows why she picked that side too, after her comment back in the high-rise about noticing his shitty hearing.

But as she starts to recover, starts to revert to the chatty girl he’s come to know, she does it less and less. She wanders on her own, frequently ahead of him (though not too far) and just as frequently behind him when she gets distracted by something cool, a rock or an old sign or squirrels chasing each other around.

It feels a lot like when Sarah stopped holding his hand in public because I’m a big girl now, Daddy, and Joel has to stuff his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for Ellie when she lets go.

Ellie is not Sarah. And she is not his kid.

–-

They skirt around Topeka, only getting close enough to search through a few neighborhoods on the outskirts. They get lucky - a sleeping bag in decent condition, several undented cans of food, a thicker jacket for Ellie. It’s still plenty warm out now, but Joel knows that even at a good pace they’re unlikely to make it into Wyoming before winter and he’d rather they have to carry the jacket for extra time than not be able to find a new one when they need it.

I-70 is long and unchanging. They don’t walk directly on it to avoid making themselves obvious targets, but there’s not a lot of cover in the middle of Kansas and most of the time they’re just trekking through waist-high grass.

Joel tries to avoid hunting to save ammunition in case they come across people or Infected, but eventually their meager canned food supplies run low and they aren’t finding enough to supplement it.

It becomes hunt, or starve.

They come across some deer here and there - including a buck near as big as the one he’d wanted to show Ellie, and her excitement is everything he’d thought it would be - but Joel doesn’t even bother to try for those. They have no way to preserve the meat, and even as hungry as he and Ellie are most days they’re not about to eat an entire deer between them in the course of a couple days.

He deeply regrets not learning how to make jerky.

Instead they make do with rabbits and the occasional stray chicken. It’s never enough, but it’s better than nothing, and Joel just keeps telling himself he’s doing the best he can, even if it’s starting to feel like his best isn’t good enough.

Ellie doesn’t complain - about the lack of food anyways, she complains about plenty of other shit - but the leaner days make them both a little crankier with each other, more likely to snap over small things. Ellie steps on the back of his boot one too many times one day, and Joel snaps at her in a way he immediately regrets when she pointedly keeps ten feet between them for the next three days when walking.

He buys her forgiveness with a ratty copy of the comics she likes that he finds in a falling-down bookstore. It’s water-stained and rats have clearly been chewing on the edges of some of the pages, but it’s an issue she hadn’t read yet and she’s ecstatic.

Joel spends the next four hours listening to her enthusiastically rant about all of the finer points of Savage Starlight, to the point he probably could recite the plotlines from memory without ever having read them himself.

But she does it while hanging on to the strap of his backpack again, so he can live with it.

–-

Joel loses track of the days further, only guessing they must be shifting from fall to winter sometime on Highway 183 because the wind becomes crisper, the temperatures chillier at night. Ellie takes to sleeping in the sleeping bag with her jacket on at night instead of on top of it, and when she still shivers Joel drapes his own jacket over the top of her.

Once they make it to I-80 they get lucky with a long stretch of towns that are abandoned, heavily picked over, and full of structures for them to sleep in. Some of them are sturdier than others, as they find out when one of them leaks during a rainstorm and Ellie rolls her ankle in another when part of the floor gives way.

“What did I tell you,” Joel asks as he helps her stretch it experimentally, “about goin' through places before I’ve had a chance to check them out?”

Ellie winces but still manages to roll her eyes at the same time. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve learned my lesson, rub it in.”

There’s no stopping the smile that tugs at his lips as he watches her put her shoe back on and then tugs her carefully to her feet. “Oh don’t worry, I plan to. Can you put weight on it?”

Ellie leans against him, testing it. “Yeah,” she replies through clenched teeth, “but it fucking hurts to do it.”

This is…not ideal.

Joel helps her hobble over to the couch so she can lean on the arm of it while he tries to think. He’s not about to make Ellie limp along for the remaining daylight they have, even though he was hoping to make it out of the town limits before sundown. And if she can’t put much weight on it now then it’s probably gonna need at least a day’s rest, if not two, before they can really get to walking again.

Joel sighs. “Okay, I need you to wait here while I go check out the house next door, and then we’ll hole up there for a day or two. Tomorrow I’ll do some more lookin’ around the area, see what I can find in terms of food and supplies, maybe try to hunt a little.”

Ellie nods, readjusting herself so she’s balanced on the arm of the couch and can pull her gun from her backpack. “Sounds like a plan.”

Joel hesitates just for a second before he makes himself step away. Ellie’s never out of his sight for more than a couple minutes at a time, and even though he’s only gonna be gone for ten minutes, tops, he’ll be leaving her alone when she’s more vulnerable, not really able to run.

And the last time he’d walked away from her to check something out, she’d ended up nearly run down by a truck and then attacked by humans and Infected alike.

“Hey,” Ellie says, her voice serious, tugging him from his paranoid thoughts. “When you’re checking the house next door, be careful of the stairs.”

Joel frowns at her, a little confused. Since when does Ellie put the slightest bit of thought into the structural integrity of a building?

“I don’t trust stairs,” she continues, and he sees the glint in her eye that tells him he’s walked into a pun. “They’re always…up to something.”

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters as Ellie bursts into laughter. “Two out of ten.”

“Aw, fuck you! That was a good one!” She calls after him.

“Two out of ten,” Joel repeats as he starts to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “Stay where you are, I’ll be right back.”

The house next door is fine, floor solid, ceiling seemingly intact. No stairs, Joel thinks with a wry smile. There’s furniture they can use to barricade the doors, and there’s a couple trees in the backyard to provide a little cover if he decided to make a small fire so they could eat something besides cold beans for once.

“Alright,” Joel calls as he reenters the other house, glad to see Ellie lowering her gun. “Next door looks good so let’s get you over there and get set up for the evening.”

Carrying Ellie would be easiest but she refuses, entirely too proud and stubborn, so instead he walks a step behind her while she half-hops, half-limps under her own steam. Once they’re inside he shoves the remains of a curio cabinet in front of the front door, angling it so it blocks visibility from the window next to it. At some point in the last twenty years someone had come through and taken all the curtains, so the living room is more visible from the outside than he would like.

Joel surveys the room, hands on his hips, and then nudges Ellie off to the side.

“I can help, you know,” she says as he starts pushing the couch toward the hallway. Fuck, his back is gonna hate him for this later.

“You need to stay off your ankle,” Joel grunts in reply, pushing until the couch is partially blocking the hallway, its back facing the room. Now, with it there, Ellie can sleep on it and he can stay in the hall and they’ll be more hidden from sight.

She hops over to drop down on it while he drags the dining table to block the back door.

That done, Joel makes his way back to the hallway, scooting past the couch and catching Ellie’s good ankle when she kicks it at him playfully. He shakes it and then uses the momentum of it to toss her leg sideways, knocking her off balance and making her flop backwards onto the couch with a giggle.

“Hey Joel?”

“Hmm?” He turns from checking through his pack and sees her laying on her back on the couch, injured ankle propped on the arm, head turned towards him.

She fidgets with her hands for a moment. “I’m sorry for getting injured and slowing us down.”

Joel stands, his knees cracking, and walks over to her to sit on the other end of the couch. She shifts, scooting down until her head is propped on his thigh and he smoothes a hand over the top of her head. “Shit happens, kid. We’ll figure it out, make do. One of us was bound to get injured at some point, and it’s honestly kind of a miracle it ain’t happened before now. Plus, we’ve been walkin’ for weeks, we probably need the break before our bodies give out on us.”

The furrow in her brow smooths out, and she offers him a tentative smile. “So you’re not mad?”

“Not mad,” he reassures her. “Just hopin’ maybe you’ve learned your lesson about listenin’ to me when I say to let me check a place before you go scamperin’ about.”

Ellie gives him a mocking salute, and Joel flicks her on the nose, making her giggle again.

It’s new, this level of touchiness between them. Joel didn’t know exactly when it had started, since after her flinch at Bill and Frank’s he’d been careful to avoid physical contact with her unless she initiated it. Little things - a grabbed hand here, a reassuring pat on the shoulder there. A couple times Ellie had foregone holding onto his backpack strap in favor of looping her arm through his instead, though it usually didn’t last very long because she would spot something she had to check out and dart off.

In the days right after Kansas City she would sleep right next to wherever he was sitting to keep watch, and a lot of those nights she would reach her hand out for his. He always took it, always held onto it as long as possible, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles in a poor attempt at soothing her through nightmares she never wanted to talk about. The rare times they found a place secure enough for both of them to sleep usually wound up with her scooting over throughout the night until Joel woke up to find Ellie wrapped around one of his arms like it was her teddy bear.

He wondered, whenever it happened, whether she’d ever had something as simple as a teddy bear, or if FEDRA had beat that kind of softness out of kids as soon as possible.

“Get some rest,” Joel says softly, letting his hand make one more pass over the top of her head before he shifts off the couch. “I’ll check your ankle in the morning, and we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ellie says with another mocking salute before she rolls onto her side facing the back of the couch.

–-

Her ankle isn’t swelling, which Joel takes as a good sign, but she still fights back a pained grunt after she goes more than a few steps on it.

“Looks like we’re hangin’ out for another day,” Joel says when he’s got her sitting back down. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Ellie just looks at him morosely. “You’re mad, aren’t you?” Joel can’t do more than shake his head before she’s pressing, “You’re trying to find your brother and you got coerced into dragging me along and now I’m slowing you down because I’m a dumbass who can’t watch where she’s going, and –”

“Whoa, whoa, hey slow down,” Joel interjects, reaching forward to grab one of her flailing hands. “I ain’t mad, Ellie, I promise you. I’m not,” he insists when she opens her mouth to argue. “And furthermore, I did not get coerced into draggin’ you along with me to find Tommy.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “I was there when Marlene got you to do it, Joel, you don’t have to lie about it.”

“You were there when I agreed to take you to the State House,” Joel corrects. “You were asleep when Tess and I decided to take you out of the QZ with us. Or have you forgotten that when I woke you up I told you the three of us were leavin’ together?”

By the look on her face, she has. “Okay, but you guys were only supposed to take me to the State House and give me to the Fireflies.”

“Again,” Joel says patiently, “that is what you heard us tell Marlene. But do you remember when we stepped aside and talked before we agreed to take you?” He waits for her to nod before continuing, “That was us decidin’ that we were going to take you wherever the Fireflies planned to.”

Ellie’s just looking at him suspiciously, eyes narrowed like she’s trying to find the lie. “You guys had decided to do that?”

“We had.”

She still looks disbelieving. “Swear it.”

Joel reaches forward and takes her other hand, making sure she’s looking him in the eye. “Baby girl, I swear. Tess and I had no intention of leavin’ you with the Fireflies at any point.”

Ellie relaxes momentarily - her face twitching a little in a way he can’t read at the name that yet again had slipped past his lips without his control - and then frowns again. “But aren’t you planning to leave me with them now?”

Honestly, Joel hadn’t really thought that far ahead. His primary focus had been finding Tommy, getting him out of whatever situation he’d gotten himself into. The Fireflies had been an afterthought, whatever slim chance they had of locating them on this side of the country.

But the answer to Ellie’s question comes easily.

“No.”

“You’re not?” Ellie asks skeptically. “What if making a cure takes awhile?”

Joel shrugs. “Then it takes awhile. Look, if you want me to take you to the Fireflies and then leave you there, I can. But I’d rather not, because I don’t trust ‘em. Plus, what are you gonna do after?”

Clearly he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been thinking very far ahead here, as Ellie’s mouth just opens and closes like a goldfish and she sits there, stumped.

“When you know what you wanna do,” Joel says dryly, “you let me know. In the meantime, I’m gonna go look around the area a little bit, see what I can find in terms of food and supplies.” He stands, one of his knees stiff from crouching for so long. “You okay here for an hour or so by yourself?”

Ellie reaches forward and pulls her gun closer to her, nodding determinedly.

“Okay then.” Joel runs a hand over the top of her head, tugging on her ponytail gently. “I’ll be back soon. Stay over here, out of sight of the windows.”

She nods and scoots down so she’s sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, gun on the ground next to her. “Be careful out there, you don’t have me with you to save your ass.”

It’s meant as a joke, Joel can tell, but there’s a note of seriousness in her voice that keeps him from smiling in response. “Yes, ma’am.”

–-

North Platte is pretty well picked over, though Joel is thorough in his checks of the houses near them anyways, just in case.

He ventures over near the railroad station and gets lucky when he finds an office and kitchen inside that clearly had been missed when people were scavenging over the years. There’s seven or eight undented cans of food, plus duct tape and someone’s pocket knife.

He takes those back to the house along with the unopened bottles of Tylenol and ibuprofen he finds lodged under a shelving unit in the remains of a pharmacy.

The real find, though, is an Ace bandage still in its packaging that had been stuck between a broken cart and a wall. Now, at least, if they leave in the next day or two he’ll be able to wrap Ellie’s ankle, limit the chances she makes it worse.

Ellie is where he left her, gun sitting within reach and her nose buried in the comic he’d found her, never mind that she’s read it probably six times at this point and could recite it back to front.

“Anything good?” She asks when he walks back around the couch to join her in the hallway, sliding down the wall so he’s sitting near her. He shows her his spoils and she makes an approving noise, selecting the largest can of corn for their dinner that evening.

Joel shakes the can of diced potatoes he found. “We’ll save these for when we can make a fire, they’re much better warmed up.” He sets them aside with the others and then reaches forward to pull one of the cushions off the couch. “I’m gonna try to get a couple hours sleep and then I’ll take the overnight watch. Wake me up when the sun goes down.”

“Will do,” she chirps, resituating herself with her comic.

Joel’s more worn out than he’d initially thought, because he closes his eyes and is asleep before he knows it.

–-

“Joel. Joel.”

He jerks awake, meeting Ellie’s wide-eyed, panicked gaze, and she puts a finger to her lips. She points to the wall and then to her ear, and Joel cocks his head so his left ear is facing the main part of the house.

Nothing at first, and then…

Footsteps. Not inside the house, from what he can hear, but near one of the windows that looks into the living room. The sun is down, the hallway completely shadowed now, but Joel waves Ellie behind him anyways, pointing her down to the darkest end.

She crawls over quietly, pistol in hand, and crouches in the corner.

Joel turns his head back toward the living room, back pressed against the wall, and listens with his hand wrapped tightly around his revolver.

The steps are too even to be Infected, trying too hard to be soft. Definitely a person, only one that he can hear so far. Could be a lookout for a group, or someone on their own raiding through the area for supplies.

A twig snaps near the window hidden by the curio cabinet, and Joel’s breath freezes inside his chest. The footsteps stop, lingering in the still air.

Was he spotted? Followed? Did he leave tracks out there somewhere, something that led people back to him and Ellie? He was careful, vigilant, and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of any other person in his brief venture out. But if someone saw him, followed him, if he led them straight to Ellie…

He looks back at her, down at her dark end of the hallway. She hasn’t moved, kneeling and more still than he knew her to be capable of, barely visible in the darkness and watching him carefully.

Joel points at her and taps his ear. How many do you hear?

Ellie turns her head, listens for a second as the footsteps start to move again.

One finger goes up, and relief nearly swamps him. If she’s only hearing one then there’s a good chance there isn’t anyone else out there. No voices either, nobody trying to communicate with each other that they can tell.

It feels like an eternity passes as they sit in the dark holding their breath, listening to someone outside pick a careful path around the house. The footsteps grow faint as they move from the front door, and then become audible again near the kitchen before fading away entirely.

They don’t move. Even in the darkness Joel can see the way Ellie is trembling. They’ve been lucky so far since Kansas City, not coming across people or Infected, and Joel is desperately hoping their luck hasn’t run out.

There’s a scraping sound from behind one of the doors, startling Ellie into almost falling over. She catches herself, scooting closer to Joel with her pistol still in hand, and he tucks her behind him best he can.

He had checked the rooms, done his best to block the windows before bringing Ellie over here. Now he just has to hope his shoddy work holds up, that whoever it is out there decides that the various impairments to entry to this particular house are from people who have long since left, instead of a sign that there are people in there now.

The scraping stops, and the footsteps pace around to the front door again.

A shaky inhale from his left has Joel glancing over at Ellie, but she just shakes her head minutely when she sees him looking. I’m good.

The footsteps start moving again, fading away completely this time, and Joel quietly stands up, stepping closer to the couch.

“What are you doing?” Ellie hisses from behind him.

Joel looks back at her briefly, and then takes another step closer to the couch, listening carefully. Silence.

“I have to follow them if I can,” Joel whispers back, and she shakes her head frantically. “I have to make sure it’s not a group, have to see where they’re headed so that we avoid going that direction tomorrow.”

Ellie stands unsteadily, grip tight around the gun he regrets ever letting her keep. It’s necessary, but God does he hate the sight of it gripped in her small hands. “I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are!” It comes out louder than he had intended, and they both freeze, listening carefully.

No sounds besides their quiet breaths, and Joel exhales slowly, trying to calm down. “You can’t come with me, Ellie. You can’t run,” he whispers over her protests, “and we need to be able to leave here tomorrow. So you stay here, in that corner with your gun, and you wait for me to come back.”

She glares at him but retreats to the corner without another word.

He doesn’t like leaving her there alone, in case whoever is lurking around outside is still near the house, but he doesn’t have a choice if he wants to make sure they’re safe. You can’t run, he’d told her, and just the words leaving his mouth had been enough to conjure up the weight of another girl with a busted ankle in his arms.

That wasn’t gonna happen again if Joel could do anything to prevent it.

Getting out of the front door without moving the cabinet is awkward, and Joel has to wait a second for his eyes to adjust from the darkness of the interior to the brightness of the moonlight outside.

In the distance he can see something moving, down towards the edge of the street that Joel hadn’t checked earlier, opting instead to head the other way into town. From here, he can’t tell if it’s a branch blowing in the wind or someone walking.

A quick check around him reveals nothing else moving, but Joel is painfully aware that if he steps out onto the street and there’s someone in one of the nearby houses, he’s a sitting duck.

He glances back up to the end of the street where he’d seen the movement, and catches another glimpse of it. This time it’s unmistakably the outline of a person, and Joel spares one more glance around him before he treads carefully into the next yard.

It’s slow going, trying to watch the figure in the distance while making sure he remains as hidden as possible and doesn’t step on or bump into anything that could give him away.

He’s painfully aware of Ellie, alone back in the house and probably wondering if he’s gonna come back or if he’s gotten himself killed and left her unguarded out here in the middle of the country.

It feels like an eternity has passed before Joel gets close enough to get a proper look at the other person, crouching carefully behind a backyard propane tank.

It’s a man, thinner and shorter than Joel himself. There’s too many shadows from overgrown trees to get a good look at him, but by this point Joel’s pretty confident the guy is alone. If he was with another person or a group, surely he would have met up with them by now, instead of just wandering through the neighborhood, poking around the houses without actually going into them.

Just a couple more minutes, Joel tells himself, taking a slow breath. He’ll watch the guy for a couple more minutes, make sure he keeps heading away from the house he and Ellie are in. And then he’ll go back and stay up all goddamn night to make sure she’s safe. They’ll be out of here at first light, and –

The man’s head snaps up, his attention focused so near Joel’s direction that he thinks he’s been spotted until he follows the line of sight, and his heart just about fucking stops.

Ellie, trying and failing to stay out of sight on a porch halfway down the street.

Joel’s head whips back to the man, trying to discern if he’s actually seen Ellie or if he just heard a noise she made and is trying to tell where it came from.

You didn’t see her, Joel thinks desperately. You didn’t see her, you didn’t hear her, you imagined it, you’re gonna keep walking away. You didn’t fucking see her.

The man stays so still for a second that Joel thinks that he didn’t see Ellie, that he’ll turn away and continue on and Joel can go back and shake the ever-loving shit out of her for leaving the house.

But then he takes a step in her direction. And then another. And a third that sends a shaft of moonlight directly over his face, and it chills Joel to his core to see how hungry he looks.

He’s walking rapidly towards her now, long strides eating up the distance between him and the porch Ellie’s on, and Joel has one single, crystal clear thought.

Absolutely fucking not.

He’s in motion, running up behind the man with a speed he didn’t know he was capable of until Ellie was in immediate danger, and he practically launches himself at the man from behind, just two houses down from Ellie.

There’s a struggle, brief but tiring, and then Joel gets in a punch that dazes the man long enough to get an arm around his neck and snap it.

Joel gets back to his feet and bends over, hands on his knees as he sucks in air. That was close, entirely too close. If he had been just a little slower, a little weaker, then that man could have gotten his hands on Ellie, would have hurt her.

“Joel?”

Ellie’s voice is soft, worried, and his head snaps up to look at her. She’s limped a little closer to him, hand still gripping her gun, gaze flicking between him and the dead man on the ground.

Fuck, he’s getting real tired of Ellie being there when he’s violent. It’s a wonder she comes near him at all, after having seen him snap two necks and stab a man in the arm and punch another to death.

“Joel?” Ellie asks again, and he straightens, walking briskly past her.

“House. Now.”

Ellie trails along silently behind him, her steps uneven, until they’re back inside, cabinet wedged back in place.

“What the fuck,” Joel growls, “were you thinkin’? I told you to stay here, goddamnit.” Fuck, his heart still feels like it’s about to beat right out of his chest.

“You were taking too long,” she shoots back, crossing her arms defiantly. Her tough act is undermined by the fact that she ends up having to balance on the arm of the couch to compensate for her ankle, and Joel knows it has to be hurting something fierce now. “I thought something had happened to you.”

“It doesn’t fuckin’ matter if somethin’ had happened to me,” he snaps, and Ellie’s jaw hangs open. “It matters if somethin’ happens to you. You’re already injured, what if I hadn’t gotten to him before he got to you?”

“It doesn’t matter if something happens to you?” Ellie asks disbelievingly. “It doesn’t matter?”

“No, it doesn’t! Ellie, do you –” Do you even know what that man would have done to you is what he wants to ask, but he clamps his jaw shut, swallows the words down. “Next time, you do what I say. You stay the fuck here.”

Ellie’s jaw is working furiously, to the point Joel worries for the state of her teeth. “I’m not gonna sit by if you need help, Joel. That’s not how this fucking works.”

“Yes, it is!” The last word comes out on a shout and Ellie flinches. Joel regrets it immediately but he also can’t seem to keep that fear at bay and he’s losing control of himself. “It is how this works, Ellie. I’m the pa– I’m the adult, you’re the kid. You do what I say, when I say it, remember?”

If Ellie heard his near-slip, she ignores it in favor of limping a step closer to him. “Yeah, as long as what you say doesn’t involve you going out in the middle of the night and potentially getting yourself killed!” Joel shakes his head, but Ellie takes another step closer, her voice rising to match his. “I was scared, okay? You fucking left and you were gone for a long time and I was just sitting here waiting to die and wondering if I was ever gonna see you again! Fuck!” She whirls around and stomps away from him, one of her hands coming up to scrub at the tears she doesn’t want him to see.

He gives her a minute to collect herself before he speaks again. “I was gonna come back,” Joel says, making a deliberate effort to lower and soften his voice. “I just needed to make sure he wasn’t a threat.” He clearly was, Joel thinks but doesn’t add.

“Yeah well I didn’t fucking know that,” Ellie mutters. She turns back around to him, chin lifted, face defiant. Joel feels a rather poorly-timed rush of affection for her, this stubborn girl willing to risk her life just to make sure he’s okay. “Everyone around me dies, Joel.” The words come out so quietly that he’s not entirely sure he was meant to hear them. “You’re the last thing I’ve got.”

Her words nearly take his knees out from under him and he steps closer to her without thought. “Oh, baby girl.”

Ellie looks up at him, her face partly shadowed, but Joel sees the defiance fading away, leaving behind just plain old fear.

“C’mere.”

He’s barely opened his arms when Ellie’s stepped into them, wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing. Her face presses into his shoulder, and Joel brings a hand up to cup the back of her head.

“I need you to stay alive,” Ellie says quietly, the words muffled into his shirt. “You have to stay alive.”

That’s not something that’s really in his control, not in this world they’re surviving in, but Joel just kisses the top of her head and murmurs okay into her hair. It’s not in his control, but he’ll do his absolute damnedest.

Joel’s starting to realize there’s not much he wouldn’t do for Ellie if she asked it of him.

–-

They get their first heavy snowfall before even getting into Wyoming, and Joel is grateful for having hung on to the thicker jacket for Ellie they’d found in Kansas, because they’ve had shit for luck on finding any since then. They’ve picked up a couple sweatshirts each along the way, and layering them up seems to help.

But getting into Wyoming starts to make the whole endeavour feel fruitless to Joel. Cheyenne is deserted, Laramie is overrun with Infected. They have to dodge hunting parties and stray Infected, and they see no sign of Fireflies or Tommy.

At this point, Joel wouldn’t even know what to look for from him.

Tommy’s last communication all those months ago had come through the Cody tower, so they start trekking further north.

There’s no other option but to build a fire at night now if they don’t want to freeze, but even then it’s always small to avoid drawing attention and Ellie sleeps pressed against his side in a futile attempt to share body heat.

Every day that passes with them walking aimlessly through Wyoming just makes Joel more certain that all of this was a fool’s errand, that he’s dragged Ellie across the country in search of his brother or Fireflies, and that all that’s gonna happen is them freezing or starving to death. He’s gonna get this kid killed, and he won’t be able to live with himself as a result.

–-

Cody is a wash, overrun by Infected just like Laramie. Joel stomps away from the ridge overlooking the city, hopelessness settling in his chest like a boulder, dragging him down and Ellie along with it.

It’s all he does, is drag her down.

“It’s alright,” Ellie says when she comes upon him sitting with his head in his hands. “We’ll figure it out.”

Except it’s not alright, Joel wants to snap at her. They’ve walked across the entire damn country, nearly died multiple times, and have nothing to show for it yet. Except the ever-increasing likelihood that they freeze or starve to death out here and he never finds his brother.

He’s going to be the reason Ellie dies, just like he was with Sarah.

Joel swallows all that down though, just offers Ellie a nod instead, because at the end of the day she’s just a kid and he’s her adult, and he has to keep it together.

He’s apparently not doing a very good job of it, because Ellie dusts some snow off the rock he’s sitting on and plops down next to him. She leans against him and lays her head on his shoulder, and the vise around his chest loosens a bit like it always does. He leans a little too, until his cheek is resting on the top of her head, and he moves his arm from in between them so it’s wrapped around her shoulders.

“We’ll figure it out,” Ellie repeats, “and it’s gonna be fine because I’ve got you and you’ve got me. And we’re a pretty damn good team, I think.”

Joel huffs out a laugh, breath crystalizing in the air in front of them. “Yeah, I reckon we are.”

They sit there in silence for another moment before Ellie shifts away and stands, turning to offer him a hand up. “C’mon, you lazy ass.”

Joel snorts as he takes her hand, tugging on it a bit as he stands up just to throw her off balance. “Lazy ass. I’m fifty-six years old, you little shit.” The words have no heat, just like they hadn’t in Kansas City, and Ellie just giggles, hip checking him.

He drapes his arm back over her shoulders as they start walking, squeezing before he lets go so he can better hold the rifle. They hadn’t really run into Infected outside of the cities proper, but he didn’t want to let his guard down until they had a few miles between them and Cody, just in case.

“We’re gonna find Tommy,” Ellie says, keeping pace next to him. A thread of surety runs through her voice, a certainty Joel envies. “We’re gonna find Tommy and he’ll take us to the Fireflies and they’ll make a cure. And then we get to do whatever we want.”

Joel just smiles down at her briefly before turning his attention back to their trail, wishing he could believe that as much as she does.

Ellie’s an unfailing optimist, and while Joel can’t quite see things in the rosy way she does, he’s not about to let his pessimism bring her down with him.

His girl is too precious for that.

–-

The panic attacks start after Cody, though if Joel’s being honest with himself, the nightmares started way earlier. Flashes of Ellie, ripped apart by Sam or shot by a stray bullet from Henry. Ellie disappearing into the dirt the same way Sarah had, no matter how much Joel dug and dug trying to bring them both back up.

It’s not until that couple talks about the River of Death that he comes close to really, fully losing it, clutching his chest outside their house while Ellie steals a rabbit.

“Just a reminder that if you’re dead, I’m fucked,” are the words that pull him back from the brink, not that he needs the reminder. You’re probably fucked with me too, he wants to shoot back. That’s not fair to Ellie though, having to worry about him keeping it together along with everything else.

“Let’s keep going,” he says instead, sucking in a cold breath and pushing forward.

He has no other choice but to push forward.

–-

“Can I ask you something?” Ellie says around a bite of rabbit that night, sitting next to him by the fire.

Joel snorts. “Since when do you ask if you can ask me something?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she replies with an elbow to his ribs. “Anyways. I wanted to ask…” her head tilts to the side and Joel instinctively reaches over to tug one side of her beanie down to better cover her ear. He’s rewarded with a smile and an eye roll before she continues. “Say we get to the Fireflies, they take my blood and put it through their fancy machines and make a cure.”

Joel just stares at her, waiting for the question part of whatever she’s trying to get at.

Ellie stares back. “Then what?”

“What do you mean, then what?”

Another eye roll. Were teenagers always like this, Joel wonders, or is it the apocalypse that makes the sass so much more prominent? “The world is fixed, you can go anywhere, do anything? What do we do next?”

“Oh, so it’s we?” Joel snarks, not really meaning it. Like he’d told her back in Nebraska, he had no intention of just dropping her off with the Fireflies, and Ellie seems to know it because she shoves him with a small smile.

Hell, even if it had been his intention then, he wasn’t sure he could let her go now. Like an extra limb at this point, Ellie was.

“Fine you,” she says exaggeratedly, playing along with this unlikely hypothetical where the two of them have gone their separate ways. “What would you go do?”

Joel lets his gaze drift off to the side, out into the dark snow-covered world around them. It’s been so long since he’s been able to even conceive of a world without cordyceps that he has to just sit there, try to wrap his mind around it.

It’s not like the world is just gonna come back together overnight, Joel knows. There’s gonna be people who refuse to take the vaccine, people who prefer this lawless world they’ve descended into. It’ll be a fight, tooth and nail, to get any semblance of order back.

Joel doesn’t say any of that though, knowing Ellie is looking for some idealistic answer.

“A ranch,” he says, liking the idea as soon as it leaves his mouth.

She nods, watching him with interest. “What kind of ranch?”

“Sheep. They’re quiet –” Ellie tosses a pebble at him “– they do what they’re told.” Another pebble, this one bouncing off his chest. He tosses it back lightly. “What about you?”

Ellie doesn’t answer, just turns her head to the sky, eyes tracing over the stars she loves so much. Joel should’ve guessed, considering how much he’s listened to her talk about space in their months on the road.

“It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ,” Ellie says when she turns back to look at him. “Behind you there’s an ocean, ahead of you there’s a wall. No place to look but up.” She smiles, her delight making her look younger than he’s ever seen her. “I read everything I could in the school library. Buzz Aldrin, Neil Armstrong, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite astronaut is?”

The answer comes from his lips before Joel can even really think about it. “Sally Ride.”

“Sally fuckin’ Ride,” Ellie repeats, smile stretching nearly ear to ear. “Best astronaut name ever.”

Joel doesn’t have the heart to tell her that even if a vaccine gets made, it’ll be something close to decades before the world can even turn its attention back up to the stars again.

Let the kid have her dreams.

“Well,” Joel shifts a little, his ass numb from sitting so long on the cold hard ground, “you have fun up in space, I’ll just be hangin’ out with my sheep down here.”

“Make sure my room at your ranch is big,” Ellie says, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the sky. “Gonna need a good place to get my Earth legs back when I come back from the moon.”

What makes you think you get a room? Joel wants to ask teasingly, but there’s a line of tension in her shoulders that wasn’t there before, and her gaze stays deliberately on the stars even as he doesn’t answer right away.

It’s a test, Joel realizes. Not for him, exactly, but to see just how much he meant it when he said he’d stick by her, or if his new sheep ranch plan now meant she was no longer welcome to follow him around.

“Any other demands?” Joel asks instead, trying to look like he’s not watching her carefully.

A hint of a smile from her, and then, “Make sure it’s on the other side of the house from wherever the sheep are. And no pink or purple.” Her gaze finally falls to him again, and the hope written across it is a naked, tangible thing that yanks at Joel’s heart.

“Put the sheep right outside your window, neon pink walls and purple floors, got it,” Joel says seriously, and Ellie throws a handful of snow at him.

“Dick.”

They’re silent again for a few minutes, watching the fire dance, and then Ellie looks up at him excitedly. “Oh, could I have one of those ceiling window things?” At Joel’s perplexed look, she waves her hands around a little. “You know, one of those things that’s like a window but in the roof so you can lay down and look up and see the sky?”

“A skylight,” Joel supplies, and Ellie smacks her hands together excitedly.

“A skylight! That’s the bitch, I want one of those!”

Joel just chuckles a little at her enthusiasm. “I’ll see what I can do about the skylight.”

“Awesome.” Ellie looks back up at the stars again, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

“Bedtime,” Joel says reflexively, swallowing down the unexpected rush of emotions that come with that simple word. Bedtime, something he used to say almost daily to Sarah when she was clearly tired but wanted to stay up because Joel had only gotten home an hour ago. Always followed by a stubborn

“Not tired,” Ellie says around another yawn, and Joel’s world blurs around the edges for a minute, scenes overlapping in his mind of carrying Sarah half-asleep up the stairs, her breath fanning against his neck, the weight of his daughter in his arms his favorite sensation. God, he had dreaded the day she eventually got too big for him to lift.

It hadn’t come before she died. That last night, he’d gotten to carry her up the stairs and tuck her in again. If he had known it was gonna be the last time –

“Joel?”

The fire and their little rock enclosure come back into focus, and he sees Ellie peering at him worriedly, firelight dancing across her face.

“Sorry,” Joel mutters, glancing away from her and out into the darkness. “Just thinkin’ about tomorrow, got lost in my thoughts.”

Ellie doesn’t look like she believes him, but she still lobs back a “Don’t know how you can get lost in your thoughts when your head is so clearly empty, dude.”

“Brat,” Joel says reflexively, and Ellie wrinkles her nose at him. The image tugs him more firmly back into the present, and he tilts his head towards her sleeping bag, left open near the fire in the hopes it would absorb some of the heat before she crawls in. “Go to sleep, Ellie.”

She rolls her eyes but pulls the bag away from the flames and crawls in it, tugging the zipper up. “Night, Joel.”

“Night, baby girl.”

Chapter Text

Joel’s not sure what it is Tommy is more surprised about - that Joel’s made it all the way to Wyoming, or that he’s picked up a kid somewhere along the way.

There’s not time to explain though, since he and Ellie are being herded into what seems to be a dining hall and having plates loaded with food set down in front of them. Food Joel hasn't seen in decades - potatoes, asparagus, juicy chicken, tomatoes.

Ellie dives in immediately and Joel barely refrains from copying the way she seems to be devouring her meal, to the point that he spares a thought to worry about her choking. But goddamn is it great to be eating something that isn’t cold canned food or chewy rabbit.

Tommy watches them with open curiosity, gaze flicking between he and Ellie questioningly, but Joel just keeps his mouth full so he doesn’t have to say explain anything to his brother yet. Tommy’ll need an explanation - and hopefully he’ll be willing to help - but he’s not about to lay it out there in front of a stranger, especially not one who’d been in the party of people pointing a gun at Ellie.

In the end it’s the woman - Maria, she’d said her name was - who speaks first. “There’s more, if you need it.”

Something about the focused way she’s watching him doesn’t sit right with Joel. He swallows, nods. “Thank you ma’am. It’s been awhile since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal.” Ellie barely swallows her food before speaking, shoveling the next bite in immediately. “This is fuckin’ amazing.”

Maria’s expression doesn’t change, but Tommy looks like he’s trying - and failing - not to smile.

“Sorry,” Joel says, almost reflexively. He’s gotten so used to Ellie’s behavior and speech that he’d forgotten how abrasive she could seem around others. “Ellie…let’s mind our manners.”

The look Ellie throws him says she could clearly not give less of a shit about manners but she just rolls her eyes and resumes eating at a marginally slower pace. She chews with her mouth closed at least, thank God for small favors.

When he looks up again, he sees Tommy smiling faintly under his mustache. His gaze is perceptive in a way Joel isn’t sure he likes as his brother looks between him and Ellie repeatedly.

“What?!”

Joel whips his head around to find Ellie staring down a girl on the other side of the hall. The girl darts off under Ellie’s glare, and Joel fights the urge to bury his face in his hands. She’s gonna need some hardcore tutoring in dealing with other people once this cure shit is over and done with. FEDRA probably only taught her how to be combative, and then all these months with no company but Joel won't have done her any favors.

“Ellie.”

She just glares at him defiantly. “What about her manners?”

“She was just curious,” Maria chimes in. “Kids around here don’t really look or talk like you.”

“Maybe I’ll teach them,” Ellie all but snarls at her. “And I want my gun back.”

“They also aren’t armed.”

Ellie opens her mouth to keep arguing, but Joel shoots her a look and she settles for angrily stabbing her fork into a potato instead. He counts it as a win that she doesn’t fling it across the table at Maria.

“Y’know,” Tommy says, in that same calm voice Joel remembers his little brother using to mediate arguments between him and their mom, “I think maybe y’all just got off on the wrong foot a little.”

Ellie swallows and points her fork at Maria. “She was gonna have her guys kill us! All fuckin’ hostility at every turn, Joel and I didn’t do shit.”

“We just gotta…” Tommy glances over at Maria, like he’s trying to figure out how to phrase what he wants to say. “We gotta be careful about who we let in here. Gotta make sure people don’t try us. Little fear helps with that.” Ellie scoffs. “A bad reputation doesn’t necessarily mean you’re bad.”

“Not always, at least,” Maria interjects, her voice quiet but firm. Her gaze has locked on Joel, and he knows immediately that Tommy’s gone and told her about some of the shit they’d done in the early years of the outbreak. Maybe Tommy made it sound like all of it was Joel's idea - even if that's not the full truth - because this woman has clearly decided she does not like Joel.

Ellie glances between the two of them for a second before pointedly scooting her chair a centimeter closer to Joel’s. They’re already having a hard time eating with as close as they’re sitting, bumping arms every time one of them moves, but Joel appreciates the show of support for what it is.

“Ma’am, we appreciate your hospitality –” Ellie makes a derisive noise next to him that Joel opts to ignore “– but it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.” Next to him Ellie stills for a split second before biting down on a piece of asparagus. He presses his own arm against hers briefly, a silent reassurance that he didn't expect her to leave, just Maria.

Tommy’s watching him - both of them - closely as he reaches over and takes Maria’s hand, clasping it so the gold bands Joel had somehow missed seeing previously are clear as day. “Well, uh, Maria is family, actually.”

The whole table is silent, three pairs of eyes on him clearly waiting for some kind of reaction. What’s he supposed to say though? Good job, little brother, you’ve found yourself a woman who seems tough and smart and also clearly hates my guts and has had some part to play in you cutting off contact with me?

Now Ellie’s the one pressing her arm against his for a second before she resumes eating. Joel opts not to say anything, just makes some kind of noncommittal noise before returning to his own plate.

They finish their meals in silence, and Joel ignores the way disappointment is written all over Tommy’s face.

–-

They get a tour of Jackson after that, conversation stilted whenever Tommy or Maria aren’t pointing out various aspects of the town. Functioning electricity and water, food, kids playing in the snow. It’s all an idyllic sort of setting that Joel hasn’t seen since he last watched a Hallmark movie, and he keeps waiting for the trick.

Ellie takes it all in with wide eyes, practically pressed against Joel’s side. She nudges him when they get to the sheep, baa-ing playfully, and he plants his hand on her face and shoves her back a step. Tommy just watches them, face unreadable, and Maria points out Jackson’s newest foal.

Ellie practically sprints ahead to pet her, Joel and the sheep forgotten. “What’s her name?”

“Shimmer.”

“Shimmer,” Ellie says worshipfully, drawing a smile from each adult. “You’re so beautiful.”

Maria looks at Joel briefly, eyes narrowed, before turning her attention to Tommy. “Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.”

Tommy nods, looks over at Joel and reads the hesitation on his face. “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03 so it's a bit dusty, but it’s got heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.”

“Oh trust me,” Ellie says with a laugh, tearing her attention from Shimmer for a moment. “We have been.”

She doesn’t mean it as a reprimand, Joel knows, but it stings nonetheless. “We’ve been doin’ fine.” Sure, they’ve had run-ins with Infected, narrowly dodged being killed more than a couple times. But he’s always done his best to make sure Ellie’s warm and fed and as comfortable as he can make her. All things considered, he thinks he's taken pretty good care of her.

Ellie’s hand stills on the horse's nose briefly, and she offers him an apologetic smile that he returns. It feels forced, but he also knows Ellie didn’t really mean it as a censure. A warm house and a hot shower would sound like heaven to anyone who’s been sleeping outdoors or in rundown buildings for the better part of four months.

“Well, I’ll take Ellie over there if you two wanna catch up?” Maria’s got her hands tucked in her pockets, eyes raking over Ellie briefly.

Immediately, Ellie tenses, her gaze locking with Joel’s. It’s written all over her face: don’t leave me.

But he does need to talk to Tommy, get the lay of the land, and Ellie needs a shower and clean clothes more than they need to be glued to each other’s sides. Even if he doesn’t like the idea of separating from her for however long anymore than she does.

Maria’s still waiting on an answer, brows raised, and Joel finally nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“Joel.”

He steps closer to Ellie, reaching up to tug the side of her beanie down a little further and letting his hand rest on her cheek briefly. “You’ll be fine. Enjoy the shower, I’ll be by there soon. Just need to talk to Tommy first, alright?” Ellie still looks unsure, hands flexing at her sides, and Joel lets his hand fall to her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “Go with Maria, baby, it’ll be fine." He pauses, grinning just slightly. "Also you’re starting to smell.”

“Oh fuck you man,” Ellie retorts, smacking him on the arm. The tension drops from her face, and Joel fights to keep his grin from getting wider - he knew that would get her to chill out for just a second. “If anyone smells it’s you.”

Joel steps back, walking over to a wide-eyed Tommy. “Pretty sure it’s you,” he calls back over his shoulder.

Maria clears her throat, gesturing towards Ellie. “Shall we?”

She rolls her eyes - flips Joel off for good measure - but she goes.

Joel starts walking, even though he doesn’t know where he’s going. He just needs Tommy to start moving and stop looking at him like he’s grown an extra head.

Tommy jogs to catch up, pointing Joel towards what looks like a saloon they’d passed on the way in. He points out a couple other things along the way - woodshop, blacksmith - but otherwise stays silent until they’re in the Tipsy Bison and he’s poured Joel a shot of surprisingly decent whiskey.

Tommy slams his own back and sets the glass back down on the bar. “Alright Joel, what the fuck.”

Joel takes a measured sip of his own whiskey, setting the glass down and rotating it between his hands. “It’s a very long story.”

“Yeah, I would fuckin’ hope so.” Tommy stares at him incredulously. “You show up here with no warning or explanation, with a fuckin’ kid –”

“Maybe,” Joel cuts him off, tone sharp, “you’d’ve had some heads up if you bothered to answer any of my radio calls. I might not even be here if you had.”

Tommy looks only the faintest bit apologetic. “After I ditched the Fireflies, Maria and her crew found me. They’re good people - they didn’t have to take me in, but they did. And all they ask is that I follow their rules.”

It burns, the way Tommy had so clearly accepted those rules even though they meant cutting Joel off. “I’m your brother.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” It comes out terse, and Joel slams back the rest of his whiskey for something to do so he doesn’t have to look at Tommy. “They’re very protective of this place, and for good fuckin’ reason. I mean, folks find out we’re up here…wrong people might show up.”

Joel laughs without humor, hand tightening on the glass. How bad would it piss off Tommy - and his sanctimonious wife - if he threw it against the wall? “And that’s what I am now. Wrong people.” It’s not a question, because he already knows the answer.

“Joel…”

He slides the glass back across the bar, reaches for his jacket. “Do you know where to find the Fireflies?”

Tommy looks thrown, hand coming up to rub his chin. “Last I heard they got a base down at the University of Eastern Colorado in Boulder. Bout a week’s ride south, but it’s severely fucked up between here and there. Infected, raiders…it’s not exactly an easy trip.”

Joel shrugs. “Made it across the entire damn country, I’m sure we can handle a couple days like that.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Tommy steps out from behind the bar, astonishment written all over his face. “Why are you goin’ after Fireflies? And takin’ Ellie on a trip like that, have you lost your mind?”

The whole story - finding Ellie in the QZ, discovering she’s immune, the plan for the cure - is all sitting in his mouth, ready to burst forth. Used to be, Tommy was the person he’d trust most with something like this. Hell, he’d’ve been trying to get Tommy to come with them in case the route is as dangerous as he says.

But this version of his brother, who bends to others’ rules and is willing to cut off his own family? No, he doesn’t think he can trust Tommy with Ellie when Tommy so clearly doesn’t trust Joel anymore. Nothing would get them killed out on the road faster than that, and he’s not about to do anything that would endanger her.

Joel shrugs into his jacket. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll grab some supplies and be outta your hair in the mornin’.”

“Joel –”

The rest of Tommy’s words are lost behind the slamming door.

–-

It takes some asking around - and some weird looks, since Jackson is small enough that everyone knows everyone and he’s a stranger - but finally someone takes Joel to a place for him to try to fix his falling-apart boot. He'd had a brief flash of hope of getting a horse for the trip, but it looks like they might be walking again, and his boot ain’t gonna last more than another day or two without some serious help.

He oughta go over to the house and check on Ellie, take advantage of a shower for himself, but he’s still too wound up. First the argument with Tommy, then…

The woman had looked so much like Sarah it had nearly stopped his heart. He still sees his daughter as fourteen - he’ll only ever see her that way - but it had been too easy, for a split second, to look at the back of that woman’s head and imagine Sarah fully grown with a kid of her own. A life that never got to happen, for either of them.

He wonders, briefly, how Tommy can walk around this town and see that woman on a daily basis without it shredding his insides the same way a single glance had done to Joel.

The sun is dropping below the horizon when Tommy walks in, new pair of boots held in his hands.

“Hope I remembered your size right,” he says tentatively, setting them on the workbench and stepping back with his hands tucked in his pockets.

Joel sets his old pair aside and tugs the new ones on, standing and walking a couple paces in them like he’s in a shoe store and might need to ask for a different size. They fit though, a little stiff but not snug.

“Yeah, they’re good.” Joel bends down to lace them up, not meeting Tommy’s gaze. “Thanks.”

Tommy drops into the seat across from him, hands clasped. “Here in Jackson we barter and trade for things, so if you want those shoes you’re gonna have to tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ with Ellie and why you’re after Fireflies.”

Joel tugs on the laces, makes sure they’re secure. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” Tommy’s gaze is piercing, his face set. Joel knows he could just walk away to avoid this conversation, say he's tired and needs to get some rest before they set out in the morning, but they’re apparently right across the street from Tommy and Maria. He wouldn’t put it past his little brother to simply follow him there and harangue him all night long until he gets the answer he wants.

“Ellie’s immune.”

Tommy goes rigid in his seat, leaning forward. “What?”

“Ellie’s immune to cordyceps. I’m takin’ her to the Fireflies because they think they can use her to make a cure.”

He can tell his brother doesn’t believe him. “She’s been bit twice, Tommy. Months ago. I saw the first bite when it was days old and healing and I was there for the second bite. She’s immune.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tommy scrubs his hands over his face, staring at the ground. “That’s…fuck, I don’t even know what that is.” He looks back up at Joel. “Doesn’t explain how you got involved though.”

It doesn’t, but that part Joel’s not quite willing to get into yet. It’s not as simple as saying Ellie’s immune - it means finding out a way to explain to his brother that he helped a kid out of some scrapes back in Boston and somehow became the adult responsible for her. And even then it wouldn’t satisfy Tommy, not after he’s seen how close Joel and Ellie are. Joel's perfectly aware - even as he pretends not to be - that everything about his behavior today is a complete one-eighty from the last time he'd been around his brother.

“You said it’s a week to the Fireflies in Colorado?” Joel asks, and ignores the way Tommy glares at him for dodging the explanation. “Any chance I could get you to come with us? You know the area, you’re pretty damn handy with a rifle.”

Tommy’s already shaking his head. “Can’t do that, Joel.”

“Why, cause your wife won’t let you?” It’s a cheap shot, but after Maria had clearly been judging Joel up, down, and sideways, it felt good to let it out.

“No.” Tommy hesitates, clearly unsure and a little bit afraid. “Because she’s pregnant.”

The air between them seems to still, Joel’s gaze frozen on Tommy’s face.

He should congratulate him, Joel thinks distantly. This is the kind of thing you congratulate someone for, having a baby. Lord knew he’d gotten a shit-ton of them when Sarah’s momma was pregnant.

But it’s so hard to wrap his mind around the idea of Tommy having a child. He’d been great with Sarah, but barely a teenager when she’d been born, and all of Joel’s memories of Tommy with a baby - with Joel’s baby - have him frozen at fifteen. Before the Army, before deployments, before the Outbreak.

And then there’s just the…the baby of it all. It’s impossible for Joel to think of having a new niece or nephew without thinking of his own baby, when she was little and fit in the crook of his arm. Without thinking about how Tommy will be gaining what Joel has lost. He wants to be happy for his brother - and deep down he thinks he is - but it's so hard for him to dig those feelings out from where they're buried.

Joel realizes that he’s been silent too long, Tommy’s face looking more and more drawn and hurt with every passing second.

“How, uh,” Joel clears his throat, looks down at his boots. “How far along is she?”

“Couple months.”

“Everything good so far?”

Tommy offers him a small smile, gratitude in his eyes. “Yeah. Bit of mornin’ sickness here and there, Maria gets tired a little more easily than she used too, but it’s good so far. I’m pretty damn terrified, to be honest.” He laughs a little and rubs his thumbs together in what Joel recognizes as his anxious tell. “Like to think I’ll be a good dad, but you never really know.”

Joel blinks back the wetness that’s gathered in his eyes. “Nah, you don’t gotta worry bout that. You were great with Sarah.”

There’s a surprised inhale from Tommy, one that Joel expected just as much as he expected to be interrogated about Ellie. Joel had made it a point over the years not to mention Sarah, not to let Tommy mention her. The few times his brother had tried, Joel had retreated into a bottle of alcohol or pills, and eventually Tommy had given up.

“Thanks, Joel,” Tommy replies quietly. “Means a lot from you.” Joel can’t quite find the air to respond, so he just nods, eyes on his new boots until Tommy speaks again. “Here I was thinkin’ about you as an uncle, and it seems you’ve gone and made me one again too.”

Joel’s head whips up and he meets Tommy’s knowing gaze. “Tommy…”

“No, Joel.” Tommy shakes his head, lips tugging up in a sad smile. “You sit there and try to tell me that the girl trailin’ after you lookin’ at you like the sun shines out your ass isn’t your fuckin’ kid, I’ll call you a damn liar.”

“She’s not my kid.” The words don’t carry the same weight they had when he’d said them to Tess months ago and they’re bitter on his tongue.

“And you’re a damn liar,” Tommy replies succinctly. “Maybe you don’t wanna see it, and I wouldn’t blame you, after what you went through with Sarah.” He pauses, watching Joel carefully. He flinches but doesn’t interrupt, and Tommy continues, “But you forget that I saw you as a dad, I know what you look like when you’re with your kid. And it was written all over your face when you were tellin’ Ellie to go with Maria. So you can sit there and say that Ellie’s not your kid till you’re blue in the face and it won’t make it any less true. Only person you’re foolin’ here is yourself.”

Joel looks off to the side, away from Tommy’s perceptive gaze. His brother’s wrong, Joel tells himself, reading into things because Tommy himself is about to be a father. He’s mixing up his feelings about having a baby and seeing Joel again, is all. Joel was only ever meant to be Sarah’s father. Nobody else’s.

“She can’t be my kid, Tommy.” The words are quiet, falling between them with barely a whisper. “I had a daughter, and I failed her. And I’ve failed Ellie too many times too. She deserves better than me. I can’t…she can’t be my kid.” It’s almost a plea this time, the way he utters the words, begging Tommy to understand why Joel can’t let this happen, why Ellie can only ever be a kid, not Joel’s kid.

Tommy just looks back at him with a pity that burns at Joel’s insides.

“Thanks for the boots,” Joel says gruffly, standing and shoving his arms back in his jacket.

It’s not till he’s outside, Tommy left behind in the workshop, that he realizes he doesn’t know where to go. So he just starts walking, hands stuffed in his pockets to ward off the chill. He’ll find the house eventually.

–-

Ellie’s door is closed when Joel finally gets to the house, and he takes the opportunity to shower and get himself a little more together before going in to check on her. He’d left her alone and with Maria longer than he’d meant to, which she was sure to be pissed about. Hopefully being clean and having a warm place to sleep would take the edge off her anger.

Joel tried not to let it grate on him, that he couldn’t be the one to provide those things for her, that they were reliant on his brother and a sister-in-law who probably would’ve run him off from Jackson if Ellie hadn’t been with him. What mattered was that she had those things, not where they came from.

The hot water beats some of the tension from his shoulders and Joel stands under the spray of it longer than he probably should, just enjoying the sensation of feeling warm and clean, watching the water flow down the drain until it runs clear.

It’s a nice house, Joel thinks absently, lathering up the shampoo bar and scrubbing at his head. Maybe it’ll still be available for whenever he and Ellie get back from the Fireflies. If his guesses about the structure are right, he won’t be able to get Ellie her skylight unless she wants to just stare into the attic. But he could probably find some other way to bring the stars to her.

He shuts the water off finally and steps out, wrapping himself in the fluffiest towel he’s held in literal decades and using another one to rub at his head. Clothes have been left on the shelf for him, some toiletries on the counter. Looks like Jackson can make deodorant and toothpaste as well as shampoo and soap, and Joel brushes his teeth twice just to be thorough.

Tommy’s words come back to him, unbidden, as he spits out the toothpaste and runs his tongue along his teeth.

You can sit there and say Ellie’s not your kid till you’re blue in the face and it won’t make it any less true.

Joel shakes his head like he can chase the thought away. A pet name and caring about someone doesn’t make them your kid. It doesn’t work like that. It takes more than that. And he’s not equipped for that, not anymore. He doesn’t know what exactly Ellie is to him, but she’s not his daughter. And he’s not her dad.

Plus, even if Joel felt that way, Ellie probably doesn’t. Yes, she’d clearly gotten attached to him back in the QZ - why else would she have been practically stalking him - but that didn’t mean she thought of him as anything like a father-figure. It just meant she had been neglected for so long that as soon as someone showed her a bit of attention, took a bit of care of her, she’d latched on. If it hadn’t been him, it probably would have been someone else.

He tries not to let that thought bother him.

Joel dresses in the sweats and t-shirt that had been left out for him, wondering briefly if they oughta try sticking around for another day or two to see about doing some laundry before getting back on the road. Squeeze out a couple more solid meals from this place, a couple more nights indoors on mattresses. It'll make the resulting nights back on the road seem shittier by comparison, but they've earned some softness at this point.

He’ll run it by Ellie, Joel decides, tossing his damp towels over the shower curtain bar. She’ll probably be fine with the idea even with her rush to save the world - the food alone might be enough to convince her - but as she had said somewhere back around Cody, they were a team. So they make decisions together.

And if she wanted to stay, he’d swallow his pride and run it by Tommy, since he’d told his brother they’d be out by morning.

“Ellie?” Joel knocks softly on the door. There’s no answer, but there’s a light visible from under the door, so he turns the knob slowly. “Ellie?”

She’s sitting on a window seat, book propped in her hands. She doesn’t look up when he steps over the threshold, just turns a page.

“Was this really all they had to worry about?” Ellie’s tone is brittle, her laugh derisive. “Boys. Prom. Which shirt went with which skirt. It’s bizarre.”

Something about her is off, in a way Joel can’t fully put his finger on. There’s tension in her shoulders, stiffness in her face, and Joel takes a step forward cautiously. He can’t help but wonder if Maria said something to her to upset her. She looks like she’s about to fly apart.

“Everything alright?”

Her head turns towards him but she doesn’t really look at him, one of her fingers flicking the edge of the diary she holds. “Everything’s fucking great, Joel, why wouldn’t it be.”

“You seem upset,” Joel replies lamely, unsure of what else to say.

Ellie snorts. “Why would I be upset? It’s not like I found out the person I’ve been traveling with for fuckin’ months, the person I thought I knew pretty goddamn well, has been keeping shit from me.” Joel doesn’t answer and Ellie finally looks at him properly, betrayal and hurt written in her eyes. “I asked you, point blank in the QZ, if you had any other family members. And you looked me in the eyes and you lied.”

“I didn’t know about Maria –” Joel starts. Ellie snaps the diary shut.

“Not Maria,” she says quietly, still staring him down. “I went to their house, Tommy and Maria’s, and she cut my hair for me. And you know, they have a little memorial up on the fireplace. Two names.”

An anchor sinks into Joel’s gut, even as he wonders who the other name is.

“So I said to Maria,” Ellie continues, her voice still quiet but bitter, “I said I’m sorry about your kids. And she said, thank you but Sarah was Joel’s daughter. And I just sat there, feeling like a fucking idiot. Stood up for you anyways, when she tried to tell me not to trust you.” She reaches up and scrubs angrily at her cheek where a tear has slid down. “So were you ever going to tell me that you’d had a daughter?”

Joel doesn’t respond, and Ellie looks down at the diary still in her hands like she’d love nothing more than to toss it at his head.

“You weren’t, were you?” She lets out a bark of laughter, the sound abrasive. “You were just never gonna tell me about Sarah.”

“Ellie –”

“Were you going to tell me?” She demands. “At any point, ever, were you going to tell me about her?”

He wants to say yes, I was, but the words get stuck in his throat, and it’s written all over his face for Ellie to see.

The diary goes sailing into the wall. Nowhere near him, but Joel flinches anyways.

“Fuck you, Joel.” Ellie picks up a notebook sitting nearby and throws that too. “Fuck you. I asked you, back in Boston, if you had any other family members and you said no. You fucking lied to me, and then you just fucking used me.”

“Ellie –”

“This whole time, walking across the country together, you were just using me to fill some kid-shaped hole in your life. You don’t care about me, you just want a replacement, and you let me go this whole fucking time, all these fucking months, thinking that I mattered to you.”

“That’s not –”

Ellie won’t let him get a word in edgewise though, picking up another book and throwing it across the room. It connects with the wall and falls to the ground with a thud, spine cracked and pages splayed open.

“Every time you acted like you cared about me, between here and the QZ, every time you called me some stupid fucking pet name I told myself I hated, none of it was for me, none of it was about me. Well, fuck you,” she spits, striding forward until her hands meet his chest and she’s shoving against him. “I don’t want any of it, I’m not gonna be some fucking replacement for your dead daughter.” She shoves him again and he lets her, each of her words shattering off a piece of his heart. “I’m sorry you lost her, but I am not her.” Another push, and he’s stumbling back into the doorframe. “Get out, Joel. Get the fuck out.”

Joel lets her push him over the threshold, holding his hand out to stop the door from slamming in his face. “In the mornin’,” he tries, but Ellie just reaches forward to shove at him again.

“In the morning,” she repeats acidly, “you’re taking me to the Fireflies. And you’re gonna fucking leave me there with them and then you can come back here to live with your fucking brother and his bitch wife. And then I don’t ever have to see you again.”

Joel’s hand falls from the door and he doesn’t react when it shuts barely inches from his face.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, listening to the thumps that are clearly Ellie throwing more things around the room.

I’m not gonna be some fucking replacement for your dead daughter.

It should hurt more, Ellie bringing up Sarah like that, but all Joel could focus on was that she felt like a replacement. Like Joel was just using her so he could feel like he had a kid again, like Ellie was just a Sarah fill-in. She wasn’t, though, that was the thing. She wasn’t replacing Sarah because nobody could do that. Ellie was just…

Fuck, she’s his kid.

His other kid. His second, his youngest. But still his.

The realization sucks the air from his lungs and he has to lean forward and brace himself on the doorframe for a second, trying to keep the world from spinning when it feels like the ground has gone uneven beneath his feet.

Ellie’s his child.

Fuck, Tommy and Tess were both right. His brother would never let him hear the end of this, and he’s sure Tess is off gloating somewhere in the afterlife.

He doesn’t know how he didn’t realize it before. Now it feels like it’s come too late - Ellie's not gonna believe anything he says right now, let alone if he tells her anything like him feeling like she's his child.

Joel lifts his hand to knock, letting it hover in front of the door. He wants to go back in, ask Ellie to talk to him and hear him out, but he knows she won't. Not tonight, anyways. They’re both too wound up, too stressed out right now.

His hand drops back to his side.

In the morning, Joel decides. He’ll try to talk to her in the morning before they leave, after they’ve both gotten some sleep and calmed down, and if she’s still not ready, then they have the five to seven days between Jackson and Boulder. It’s not a lot of time, but it’s enough for him to be able to give her a little space to begin with.

He gives her door one last look before walking over to his own room. It scrapes at him, the sensation of being separated from Ellie by walls and doors after so many nights with her at arms’ length or closer. He can’t settle, even when he’s checked all the locks on the doors and windows, even when he’s sitting on top of a comfortable mattress in a warm house.

There’s a limb missing from him, an empty space where his girl should be.

It’s almost without conscious thought that Joel walks back out of his room, pads over to Ellie’s. Her light is off, no noise coming from behind the door. It only occurs to him, when his hand is on the knob, that her door might have a lock on it.

The knob turns though, and Joel nudges the door open gently, not stepping over the threshold, just poking his head around it. He just needs to lay eyes on her for another second, reassure himself that she’s still safe.

Ellie’s turned off the lamps, and in the moonlight he can make out the shape of her, curled in a ball on top of the bed. It’s too dim for him to really see the way her shoulders are moving, to be able to tell if she’s asleep yet or just laying there in the darkness like he had been. It can't be any easier for her than it is for him, sleeping in these comfortable surroundings after months on the road and years of a FEDRA military school.

Joel doesn’t step into the room, just gives himself a minute to watch her until his heart rate settles and some of the acid sitting in his gut dissipates.

Then he closes the door softly and goes back to his own room, hand flexing uselessly at his side.

–-

Joel doesn’t sleep a whole lot that night, waking up before the sun and walking quietly downstairs to dig around in the kitchen. Blessedly there’s a can labeled Coffee in the pantry, and Joel sets to making some while the sun creeps over the horizon.

It’s not regular coffee, he can tell with the first sip, clearly part coffee bean, part something else, probably to make the coffee supply last longer. It’s not awful, Joel thinks as he steps out on the porch, it’s just…different.

Jackson in the morning is interesting, a slice of life that feels long dead in a lot of ways. The street slowly comes to life once the sun is nearly up, people walking towards town carrying bags or tools. Some are more heavily bundled up than others - working on patrol or one of the outside rotations Tommy and Maria had mentioned, Joel surmises - and others are wearing just a couple layers like they plan to be indoors.

He can’t shake the feeling that he’s in some sort of alternate reality, where a normal town like this is possible in the middle of the apocalypse.

Joel’s just finished his coffee when the door across the street opens and Tommy and Maria step out. They both wave, but Maria heads down the street towards town after a quick goodbye kiss to her husband, and Tommy walks across to him alone.

“Mornin’,” Joel greets him, opting to step back inside where it’s warmer. There’s still no sound from upstairs, and a quick glance at the second floor shows Ellie’s door is still shut.

“How’d y’all sleep last night?”

“Slept alright,” Joel lies. “Not used to a mattress and a comfortable temperature though, so that took some gettin’ used to.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” Tommy chuckles a little. “But you’ll adjust. What’s the plan?”

Joel opens his mouth to answer, even though he’s even really sure what that answer is, but they both pause at the sound of footsteps from upstairs.

Ellie comes down, fully dressed and carrying an extra bag, backpack slung over her shoulder. Her gaze flicks between the two of them, hardens when it settles on Joel.

“We going or what?” She asks, stepping in between them on the way to the living room, shoulders tense.

Tommy looks over at Joel curiously, clearly confused by the change in Ellie’s demeanor from the night before. Joel just shakes his head a little, looking back at Ellie.

He knows it’s a long shot, but he still wants to try. “Well I was thinkin’, it might be a good idea if we stayed here another day or two. Eat some more good meals, get a few more nights decent sleep…”

Ellie’s already shaking her head, walking closer to the front door. “No.” She looks like she’d very much like to say something else to Joel, but her eyes dart to Tommy and her mouth snaps shut. “Let’s go.”

“Alright,” Joel says defeatedly. “Let me just grab my stuff, I’ll be back down in a couple of minutes.”

Tommy gives him a what the hell look and then glances at Ellie again. “Well, if y’all are leavin’ I’ll go see about some food and gear for you. Be back in a few and then I'll walk you to the stables.” He claps Joel on the shoulder and nods at Ellie before leaving. Ellie doesn’t acknowledge him one way or the other, just glares at Joel the second the door is shut before turning her back on him pointedly.

Joel sighs and heads upstairs to gather his few things, tucking yesterday’s dirty clothes back in his pack and shrugging his jacket on.

Ellie hasn’t moved when he comes back downstairs and sets his pack on the floor near hers, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“Ellie.”

Her head turns to the side briefly as she says, “I’m not fucking talking to you right now, Joel.”

“Can we just –”

“No.”

“Alright.” She just needs a little more time, Joel tells himself. Ellie’s a chatty girl, excitable - she’ll see something on the road and get so excited she’ll forget for a second that she’s mad. And that’ll be his opportunity to talk to her.

Pushing her now will only make her angrier, more determined to stay silent, so Joel sits down on the couch and they wait for Tommy in silence.

–-

Tommy leads the way to the stables, detouring by the armory to retrieve Joel’s rifle and Ellie’s pistol, loading them up with a decent amount of ammo for both of them.

“Here’s your ride,” Tommy says, leading a horse out of its stall and over to where the tack is resting. “He’s a good, solid horse, shouldn’t give you any trouble on the way there. He’s used to carryin’ two people, Maria and I take him out for rides together sometimes, so the two of you won’t be a strain on him.”

“He got a name?” Joel asks as he passes Tommy the blanket and saddle, holding them in place while Tommy cinches them.

“Nah, never bothered to come up with one for him.” Tommy pulls the bridle over its head, gently nudging the bit into its mouth. “Y’all think of one, feel free to let me know.”

“Yeah, maybe Ellie’ll take care of that for you.” Joel looks over at where she sits on the fence outside the stables, face set in a glower. "She'll probably come up with somethin' ridiculous though, or name it after some famous astronaut."

Tommy lowers his voice, stepping to the side of the horse to adjust the saddlebags. “Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on with y’all this morning? Everything seemed fine yesterday when she went with Maria.”

Joel doesn’t look away from Ellie, trying to ignore the way his words make his stomach shrivel up inside even as he swallows anger at his sister-in-law. “Guessin' Maria didn't mention their conversation to you. Ellie saw y'all's memorial and Maria told her about Sarah, so she’s mad at me for lyin’ to her back in Boston when she asked about my family and I told her it was just you. And she thinks I've been usin' her as a replacement, like she doesn't matter to me on her own but only as a substitute for Sarah.”

“Jesus,” Tommy breathes, but he can’t say more before Ellie’s impatiently hopping off the fence and walking over.

“Can we get a fucking move on already?”

Wordlessly, Tommy leads the horse out to the mounting block, offering Ellie a hand up that she practically shoves away. Tommy doesn’t seem to take it personally, but he offers Joel a sympathetic look when Joel climbs on the horse in front of her.

All three of them are silent on the walk up to the gates, waiting as Tommy waves them open.

They’re almost through when Tommy stops them with a hand on the bridle.

“There’s a place for you here when you’re done,” he says, offering Joel a small smile before pointedly adding, “Both of you.”

Joel opens his mouth to respond - to thank Tommy - but Ellie beats him to it, her words piercing.

“You can give my spot away. I’m sure there’s another fourteen-year-old here that Joel can use to fill it.”

Tommy inhales sharply, gaze shooting to Joel, who can’t do more than close his eyes briefly, trying his damnedest not to let Ellie’s words cut at him. She’s hurt by what she feels is a lie on his part, Joel reminds himself, not to mention everything she’d said about used. She’s lashing out.

“Joel –”

“Thanks, Tommy.” Joel cuts him off with a pained smile and nudges the horse with his heels until they start moving forward and are out past the wall, nothing but wilderness as far as they can see.

“Close it up,” he hears Tommy say behind him, followed by the grinding of the gates sealing.

And then it’s just him, Ellie, and the snowy path ahead of them.

–-

Joel offers to teach Ellie to shoot the rifle their first day on the road, something she’d been pestering him about pretty much non-stop since Kansas City.

(If he’s caving on it because he’s trying to earn her forgiveness a little, that’s his business. If it’s because she’d asked Tommy to teach her during their tour of Jackson, that’s also his business.)

“No,” is her stilted reply, and when he tries to ask if she’s sure, he gets a “I fucking said no, Joel.”

He drops it, stuffing down his disappointment.

–-

Joel tries, every morning and throughout their long days riding, to talk to Ellie. To get her to talk to him. Nothing works, not offering to teach her to shoot or hunt, not pointing out shit he sees that a week ago would’ve had her grabbing him excitedly and shouting Joel, look!

He even lets her split the watch with him so he can get a couple hours of sleep each night. He can practically hear Tommy’s voice in his head calling him a pushover, and he wouldn’t be wrong - he’d been the same whenever Sarah was mad at him too. It hadn’t happened frequently, but he’d missed recitals and shows enough that it would hurt her feelings and she’d stop speaking to him for a bit until he could wear her down.

He glances over his shoulder under the pretext of checking the area around them, catching a slight glimpse of Ellie’s face as he does. You have no idea how much the two of you have in common, Joel thinks wryly. Stubborn as shit and using the silent treatment against me.

But Sarah would’ve broken after only a day or two. Joel’s starting to think Ellie won’t ever cave.

–-

They reach the university on the fifth day, just about when Tommy said they would. And they don’t run into any trouble either, human or otherwise. It oughta be a relief to Joel, but instead he just feels on edge, like there’s something coming up around the corner, and the anxiety sits at the base of his skull.

The campus is deserted, quiet except for the scampering and shrieking of monkeys, and he waits for the questions from Ellie about them and what college used to be that never come.

Joel pulls the horse up, just inside an arched pathway on campus. He can see the Firefly logo sprayed on a sign up ahead, pointing them to a science building.

They’re almost there.

You’re gonna fucking leave me there with them…and then I never have to see you ever again.

He can’t let it end like this. If this is really the end of the road for him and Ellie, if this is where he leaves her and likely never sees her again…he can’t let it be like this. Not after all the shit they’ve been through.

Ellie shifts behind him, impatient and clearly confused as to why they’re not moving, and Joel sighs.

“Before we do this,” he says slowly, “I need to say somethin’. And I don’t want you to say anything back, I just need you to listen, even though I know you're mad at me right now. And then we’ll go over there and find the Fireflies and you…you never have to see me again, just like you want.” Fuck, that hurts to think about, feels like he’s being sliced apart on a cellular level.

Insane to think about how less than a year ago he hadn’t even known Ellie existed, and now the thought of removing himself from her life hurts worse than any physical pain he’d experienced in the last twenty years.

Ellie stays quiet, and Joel tries to decide where to start.

“I didn’t tell you about Sarah –” Ellie inhales sharply at the name, and Joel forces himself to keep talking. “– not because I was tryin’ to hide it from you or anything like that. It’s…”

The horse prances under them, skittish at fresh shrieks emanating from the monkeys. Joel tugs on the reins gently until they’re backed up under the arch again, and he clears his throat.

“She died the night of the outbreak. Not from Infection or anything. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin, me and her and Tommy, and there was…it was a whole mess. And she…fuck.” It’s been more than twenty years and he still can’t force out the words she got shot in my arms and I held her while she bled out because it feels like it happened yesterday. He can close his eyes and see her writhing in pain, feel her going quiet and cold in his arms, just as clearly as he can visualize the very first time he held her.

“It fuckin’ hurts to talk about still,” is what Joel ends up saying, gaze unfocused on one of the buildings. “I wasn’t tryin’ to hide it or lie to you, I just don’t know how to bring her up without feelin’ like someone’s takin’ a chainsaw to my insides. Shit, I knew Tess for probably three or four years before I told her.” Tess had understood though, since she’d lost a child too. And other than that one drunken conversation, they’d never mentioned their kids again.

He nudges the horse forward again, pointing them in the direction of the science building. “And I wasn’t tryin’ to use you to replace her.” He has to speak up a little to be heard over the sound of hooves hitting concrete, turning to talk over his shoulder a bit. “I can see how it would seem that way, but that’s not what it is. You’re very different kids, and you’re…” You’re both mine, Joel wants to say, but he feels like Ellie might not be so willing to hear that right now, probably wouldn't believe him if he did. Saying all this without looking at her makes it easier, but it also means he can’t read her face and see if she believes him or not. “I wouldn’t trade these months with you for anything, baby girl. That’s all.”

Not his most eloquent work, not the most coherent. But Joel would like to think that he and Ellie know each other well enough by now that she can sort through what he’s left unsaid.

Hopefully.

Ellie shifts behind him, and he doesn’t know if she was going to respond to anything he said or not, but what comes out is “Guard stations.”

Joel looks ahead to where she’s pointing and takes in the piles of sandbags stationed outside the doors. “But no guards,” he replies slowly, a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Gun?”

“Yeah.”

It’s the most words they’ve exchanged - civilly - in five days.

He guides the horse over to a tree, dismounting and helping Ellie down. “Stay right behind me.”

She nods, her jaw clenched and her hands gripping her pistol tightly, just like he showed her.

The building is clearly abandoned, detritus of a hasty escape spilled everywhere. There’s a packing list, indicating that maybe they’d been planning to leave, but there’s also supplies left behind, cabinets knocked over. Hard to tell what was done by the Fireflies and what was done by whoever was here before them.

Joel chances a glance over at Ellie, taking in the defeated slump of her shoulders. Is it because they can’t get started on the cure yet, or because you’re stuck with me awhile longer?

“They just left?” Ellie’s question breaks into his thoughts. He opens his mouth to answer, but there’s a loud clanging from somewhere above them, and instinctively he braces the rifle against his shoulder, pointing it up at the walkways that look down at them.

“Maybe not all of them.”

They’re both silent going up the stairs, Ellie a step behind Joel as he clears each room and hallway.

It’s not Fireflies they find, but another goddamn monkey. “At least it ain’t clickers,” Joel mutters, slinging the rifle strap over his shoulder after the monkey has scampered out the window.

“Yeah, but no Fireflies either,” Ellie responds, wandering over to a map dotted with pins. “Maybe in all that research they turned themselves into fuckin’ monkeys.” Her fingertip traces along a line of pins, more or less mimicking the path the two of them had taken from Boston. “Salt Lake City.” She taps the map, looking back over her shoulder at him as he walks closer. “All the pins lead here.”

Joel rubs a hand over his face, thinking. Salt Lake City is a couple weeks’ ride west, at a minimum. They’re not really supplied for that long of a trip, but then again they had just made it significantly farther with significantly less.

Selfishly, Joel thinks of the extra time it’ll give him to repair things with Ellie. She’s stubborn, but even she can’t keep quiet for that long.

Hopefully.

She’s looking at him expectantly, waiting for his decision.

The overwhelming urge is to go back to Jackson, regroup, try again when it’s warmer. Spend some time in that house across from Tommy and Maria, fixing things between them, giving Ellie a taste of what life could be like, what it should be like. Letting her just be a kid and him relearn how to be a father.

Ellie won’t go for that, Joel knows, and reluctantly he discards it without even suggesting it to her. Even if she wasn’t chomping at the bit to get away from him, she’s had a single-minded focus on making a cure since they left Boston, and it’s only increased with every person they’ve lost.

Their only option, it seems, is to press on to Salt Lake City.

Joel opens his mouth to tell Ellie that, and then stills at sounds from outside.

He presses a finger to his lips and steps over to the window, hoping it’s just more monkeys scrambling around out there and not anything worse.

But he peers carefully out the window just in time to see four men disappearing around the corner, headed towards the entrance of the building.

Ellie’s watching him, wide-eyed, and he mutters, “Hunters. Out the back.”

A quick nod, and then she trails him silently out of the lab and down the hall to a stairwell. Below them, Joel can hear the footsteps and muttered words of the men, and he blindly reaches back to grab Ellie’s hand and pull her along a little faster, keeping his revolver gripped tightly in his other hand. Ellie hangs on, squeezing his hand tightly until they’re down the stairs and out the door.

Joel doesn’t see the men - hopefully they’re still inside - and he releases Ellie’s hand as he turns to look at her. She looks afraid but determined, and Joel tries to convey with a look that he's not gonna let anything happen to her. He doesn't think he's successful, if the way she's chewing her lip is any indication.

“Ready?”

She nods, shifting.

“Okay, go, go, go.” He nudges her forward, careful to keep his voice low and his head on a swivel in case the men come out.

They get from one barrier to the next, and then it’s a sprint to the horse. There’s nothing they can do about the crunching leaves underfoot, sounding horrifically loud in the still air around them.

Joel yanks the reins off the branch and hands them to Ellie, turning to tuck the rifle into the sleeve attached to the saddle. Almost out of here, just gotta get them on the horse and –

“Joel!”

He turns at Ellie’s shout, just in time to avoid being whacked in the head with a baseball bat. He ducks out of the way and dodges a punch, managing to get his arms around the man’s throat. He must’ve gotten a hit in at some point because there’s a flash of pain in his side, radiating out through his core. He ignores it and exerts more pressure, jerking to the side and dropping the man to the ground when he goes limp.

The number of necks Ellie’s seen him snap is now up to three.

Her face is pale, eyes wide and terrified when he turns back to her. She’s got her gun held out in front of her and her eyes drop to his abdomen with dawning horror. Joel looks down.

Oh, he thinks faintly, looking at the handle of a baseball bat protruding from his stomach. That’s not good. He can’t feel it at the moment, adrenaline coursing too fast through his body. Which is probably why he thinks it’s a good idea to wrap his hand around the handle and pull it out.

The pain nearly sends him to his knees and distantly he wonders if he should’ve kept it in, just to keep the wound sort of plugged for the time being. Hot blood is already spilling out, drenching his fingers, and he presses his hand weakly to it.

“Joel! Get on the horse!”

Ellie’s got the gun pointed behind him now, hand shaking. She steps closer to him, keeping the gun away but nudging him towards the horse urgently.

The other men, Joel thinks, head starting to spin. They’re coming. And he can’t fight them like this - they’ll kill him and then they’ll kill Ellie.

They’ll kill Ellie.

The thought sends him staggering forward towards the horse, fumbling for the reins. Ellie has to push him up to get him all the way on but then he’s up and she’s mounted behind him.

Gotta get her away from here, Joel tells himself even as things go a little gray around the edges. Gotta keep them away from Ellie. Gotta keep Ellie safe.

The horse is in motion, though he’s not quite sure how. It’s skittish, every step it takes sending another wave of pain rolling through his body. One hand is pressed to his side, for all the good it’s doing, the other barely managing to keep a grip on the saddle horn.

Gunshots.

Joel can’t tell if they’re being shot at or Ellie’s doing the shooting, but the horse is galloping now and he feels Ellie’s arms wrap around his midsection. The pressure of her arm makes him moan in pain, but she doesn’t hear it and he can’t find the energy to tell her to move.

He’s done for. He’s gonna die and Ellie’s gonna be left alone out here. He’s fucked it all up, failed another kid, led her straight into doom.

“I don’t think they’re following us.”

Ellie’s words sound like they’re coming from underwater, and dimly Joel registers that he’s lost his grip on the saddle. There’s spots dancing in his vision, the rocking of the horse combined with the pain making him want to hurl.

“Joel! No, no, no, no, Joel get up!”

The snow. Cold. Feels nice.

Ellie’s face appears above him, pale and wide-eyed. “Joel get up, you gotta get up, please.”

Don’t cry, he wants to say. He hates when she cries, especially when he’s the cause of it. Please don’t cry, baby, I’m sorry. I’ll get up. I’ll fix it, just stop crying.

The words won’t make it past his lips before the sky and her face and everything fades away.

Chapter Text

Joel’s faintly aware at some point of Ellie practically dragging him into a house and just barely keeping him from falling down some stairs. Then he’s laying on something moderately soft and Ellie’s leaning over him again, face blurring in and out of his vision.

She looks so goddamned scared, and it’s all his fault.

Things go fuzzy for a minute, and then Ellie is fumbling with his shirt near his wound, pressing on it and fuck that hurts.

“...what to do.” Her words are coming from a long way off even though she’s right next to him and Joel tries to focus on something that's not the pain rolling through him. “What do I do?”

“Leave,” he croaks out, wincing again when she presses on his stomach. “Leave.”

“Shut the fuck up, Joel.” Her hands are scrambling, panic etched across her face, and he reaches for her. “Shut the fuck up.”

His hand latches around the front of her jacket, pulling her towards him. “Leave,” he repeats. “Go north, go to Tommy.” Ellie’s shaking her head, jaw set. “Go.”

He doesn’t mean to push her away so hard and send her sprawling to the ground, he really doesn’t. But he’s afraid that if he doesn’t get Ellie away now she’ll never leave, and then she’ll have to watch him die before freezing or starving herself. He needs her to go so that she has the best possible chance of surviving.

Ellie’s frozen on the ground, staring at him wide-eyed. Fuck, she looks like a terrified kid and for the first time since they’ve met, Joel doesn’t know how to fix it, how to help her. For all the dangers they'd faced, in Boston and on the way here, Joel had forgotten for a brief period that he wasn't invincible, that he could still die. He feels fully unprepared for how to get her through this other than to make her leave him behind.

She stands up slowly, staring at him hard like she’s trying to make up her mind, and then she’s covering him with his jacket, tucking it up to his chin. He wants to tell her not to bother, the minimal warmth it provides won’t make a difference in the long run. Even if he survives the blood loss long enough, the jacket won't make a difference against freezing to death instead.

But he’s too busy trying to memorize her face, get one last good image of her in his mind. If he was gonna die in front of her he’d like to at least see her laughing again, like to be able to hear one more shitty pun.

Joel doesn’t think there’s words for how much he hates that the last way Ellie will see him is gonna be like this, weak and dying on a mattress in a dim, cold basement. The last visual he has of Sarah is her writhing in pain, nails digging into his bicep and pleading for him to make the pain stop.

He doesn’t want something like that for Ellie, but it seems he has no choice.

Then again, Joel thinks as he watches her walk up the stairs, she’d been so goddamn mad at him lately, so ready to be dropped off with the Fireflies to get away from him…maybe this won’t be as awful for her as it could’ve been.

He hears her footsteps fade away upstairs and lets his eyes fall shut. If he’s lucky, he’ll go in his sleep, won’t even be aware of it.

He must drift off for a minute or two, because when he opens his eyes again Ellie is there, kneeling next to him.

Tell her to leave. You gotta tell her to leave, she needs to get out of here and get safe.

But then Ellie reaches forward and laces her fingers with his and squeezes gently until he squeezes back, and he knows what she’s trying to say.

I’m not going anywhere. We’re a team, and we’re gonna do this together.

Then she pulls out a needle and thread that she found who knows where and it’s all Joel can do to not yell in pain so he doesn’t panic her worse than she visibly already is. It’s a relief when, three or four stitches in, he passes out completely.

–-

He’s not aware of much for awhile. His body’s on fire, pain radiating out from his abdomen, the world a blur around him. Sometimes he feels cold, fingertips on the verge of going numb. There’s times where he’s warmer on one side than the other, and the only time he manages to get his eyes open enough to find out why, he sees Ellie laying on that side, head over his chest. She’s asleep, curled up against him, a shiver rolling through her periodically.

She needs to leave, he thinks. But I’m so glad she hasn’t.

–-

Sometimes he thinks he hears Ellie talking to him but he can never quite make out the words. He’d like to be able to open his mouth and tell her you need to leave and thank you for staying but his throat burns and his head hurts and then he’s gone again.

–-

He’s going to die, Joel realizes in some foggy recess of his mind after who knows how many days of laying in the basement. He’s going to die and leave Ellie alone and unprotected out here in the middle of nowhere. She’s gonna have to get herself back to Jackson and to Tommy, without starving or freezing or getting accosted by anyone else. Ellie’s smart, resourceful, and he wants to believe she can do it.

But she’s also just a goddamn kid, a small and underfed one at that, and Jackson is at least four or five days' ride away if she still has the horse. If she doesn’t get lost, if she doesn’t run into those hunters again. There’s so many things that can go wrong, and he’s not gonna be there to protect her.

He’s going to die in this shitty abandoned basement and be left to rot here.

He’s going to die with her probably still hating him, for all that she’d stayed to take care of him, and there’s nothing he can do to fix it now.

But he’ll get to see Sarah again.

He really wants to see Sarah again.

–-

Not yet.

Joel doesn’t quite know where the voice is coming from. He doesn’t hear Ellie, doesn’t feel her nearby, but he hears someone.

Not yet. You can’t leave her. She needs you just as much as you need her.

There’s a rustling nearby, a pressure in his abdomen, and the voice fades away.

–-

“Joel, wake up. Wake the fuck up.”

His eyes crack open the slightest bit, take in Ellie’s pale face, her wide eyes.

“There’s men coming. I’m gonna lead them away but if anyone comes down here you fucking kill them. Joel, do not fall asleep.”

She presses something into his hands and squeezes and then she’s gone. There’s a scraping sound from overhead, and then her footsteps fade away.

Her words bounce around in his head, disconnected from each other, meaningless. The fog threatens to overwhelm him again, pull him back under. He doesn’t burn anymore, doesn’t feel as close to the precipice of death, but his body still aches something fierce, pain still flowing like a river through the wound in his side.

His eyes are slipping closed when he hears footsteps above him again, too heavy to be Ellie’s.

Finally, her words register, settling in his mind laced with dread. There’s men coming.

His grip tightens on the knife she left - her switchblade - and he listens, breathing slowly.

The footsteps track around above his head, near and then fading away. Joel thinks for a second maybe he’s escaped detection, and then they’re back and there’s the same scraping sound he heard when Ellie left.

She blocked the door, Joel realizes as he forces himself to roll off the mattress. To hide him, to protect him in case he can't protect himself.

She’s so fucking smart, and he’s gotta live through this so he can tell her that.

He’s not gonna die - not gonna let her die - without setting shit right between them.

–-

It’s frighteningly easy to dig out the part of him that used to ambush and torture people when he’s looking at these men.

They’re not even men, really. They’re a threat to Ellie, obstacles between him and his kid. And there’s not a single thing he wouldn’t do to them in order to find her and keep her safe.

Broken necks, slit throats, dislocated kneecaps, bashed in heads. He’ll do it all and sleep just fine at night if it gets him back to Ellie and keeps these men and their associates from ever laying a finger on her again.

–-

He gets the location of the resort out of the last men, but nothing more than that, and when he finally gets there he realizes just how big it is. How many buildings, how many places Ellie could be stashed away. Too many. He’d never be able to search them all in time, not if there’s people here, and not in his state. He’s upright somehow, not dead, but Joel has no way of knowing how long it’ll last, and he doesn’t want to die out here in the snow when Ellie’s in danger.

He really doesn’t want to be eaten by these twisted fuckers, and it takes all his willpower to keep thoughts of Ellie being killed and eaten from overrunning his mind. If he lets those in, he might as well just lay down in the snow and die right now.

The largest building is up ahead, and Joel feels this unexplainable certainty tugging him there when his eyes land on it. Ellie’s in there. There’s no rational reason for him to think it, no signal or indication, but Joel stomps through the snow towards it with a bone-deep surety that his kid is in there.

He doesn’t get there before the first flames erupt from the windows, and a chill that has nothing to do with the blizzard he’s standing in rips through him.

No, no, no.

He tries to move faster, he really does, but his strength is nearly gone, and the distance between him and the building feels like miles.

Joel’s almost there, warmth radiating from the building as the flames grow taller, when he hears the sound of a slamming door around the other side of the building. His fingers are too numb to handle a gun right now, so he peers around the wall cautiously, hoping he can stay hidden from whoever it is. At least now he has a way into the building, flames be damned, a way to get in there and find –

Ellie.

She’s stumbling, moving slowly, missing her jacket and her hair’s half out of her ponytail, but it’s her coming out of that burning building. Fucking Christ, she’s alive. He could fall to his knees and weep right now at the sight of her, stumbling haphazardly through the snow.

She’s walking away from him, and Joel forces his legs to move, to follow her. He doesn’t want to call out her name in case there’s people around, doubts that she would even properly hear him with the wind being as bad as it is, so he waits till he’s close enough to grab her shoulder, even as knows it’s gonna startle her.

He’s not expecting the way she starts flailing, screaming for him to get off me as her hands bounce off his chest. Not expecting her face and chest to be soaked in blood that can’t all be hers, for her knuckles to be scraped raw and even more blood crusted under her nails.

Joel gets a hand on either side of her face, holding it still so she can see him, see that she’s safe and not being attacked.

(Again, his mind supplies unhelpfully. Not being attacked again.)

"It’s me. It’s me.”

Her eyes are almost unfocused, raking over his face desperately until she mumbles something and leans forward to loop her arms around his neck.

“It’s okay, baby girl. I got you,” Joel breathes, inhaling the smell of smoke and the tang of blood, feeling his heart rate drop a bit at the feel of his kid in his arms. “I got you.”

He pulls away before she does and tries not to react at the terrifying blankness that’s come over her face, the way she’s staring at him as though she’s not really seeing him. She’s just in shock, he tells himself as he wraps his jacket around her. She’s been through a lot in…Joel doesn’t even know how many days have elapsed since the university. She’s in shock, but once they get away from here she’ll shake it off a little bit.

He just has to get her away from here.

–-

They walk for what feels like miles, away from the resort, away from the house they’d been in. The wind has let up a bit but it’s still snowing, the temperatures still arctic. He’s pretty sure the bottoms of his pants are soaked from the snow, and Ellie’s look wet almost up to her knees. She's wearing his jacket so he's in thinner layers that feel as though they're doing next to nothing to keep him warm.

Freezing to death seems a lot more likely than it has at any point before.

She still hasn’t said a word the entire time they’ve been walking, just clinging to his hand and stumbling along beside him.

The first time he lets go so he can maneuver himself carefully over a fallen tree, Ellie whimpers behind him and stops moving. It’s all the warning he has before she lets out a wail that sends goosebumps skittering across his skin, and Joel clambers back over to her hastily, ignoring the twinges in his side.

“Hey, hey, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m right here.” Joel gets a hand on either side of her face again, cupping her cheeks so she can look at him. “I’m right here, you’re okay.”

“Joel?” Her voice is hoarse and cracked, but he’s so fucking glad to hear it after so much quiet that he leans forward and kisses her forehead, not even caring when his lips touch dried blood.

“Yeah, I’m right here.”

She whimpers again, tears filling her eyes. “Don’t let go, please.”

“I won’t, baby girl, I won’t.” He reaches down and laces his fingers with hers, squeezing tightly. “I won’t.”

–-

He can't hold onto her hand the entire time, has to let go to get them both over logs and rocks or through thicker brush. But he always makes sure to keep another hand on her where she can feel it so she knows he’s still there, the top of her head, the back of her neck, even when it comes away tacky with blood and other matters that he tries very hard not to think about yet. He has her hold on to the hem of his jacket when the path gets too narrow for them to walk side by side, and then he reaches back and keeps his own hand around her wrist.

His side is burning with pain - to say nothing of the exhaustion that seems to have settled in his bones - but Joel keeps walking, keeps trudging forward with Ellie at his side until it feels like they’ve put miles between them and that hellhole they left behind.

They stumble into the remains of what looks like a line of cabins, and Joel’s knees go weak with relief. Shelter, finally. He's running out of the ability to keep moving and he doesn't know how much longer Ellie can go either. Hell, he doesn't even know how severe her injuries might be.

“We’re gonna find one of these to stay in tonight,” Joel says, looking down at Ellie. She doesn’t respond, just obediently trudges along behind him as they start down the road, pausing briefly in front of each to ascertain its usefulness.

Most of them are missing windows and doors, but there’s a couple towards the end of the row that look more intact than others and Joel leads Ellie towards them. One of them has gotta be intact enough for them to use.

The one he settles on has most of its windows, a front and back door, and crumbling pieces of furniture inside. It’s two stories, but he knows there’s no way Ellie’s making it up any stairs tonight. There’s also trees in the backyard, dead twigs and branches everywhere, some half-buried in the snow. Fuel for a fire, Joel thinks with relief, the thought of any warmth pushing him forward.

Joel leads Ellie around to the back porch, testing its stability before they step up on it. The wood creaks but doesn't give, and gently he tugs Ellie along after him.

He crouches down in front of her, the movement making his entire body ache. “I gotta go in here and make sure it’s safe. I need you to stay here.” Ellie stares at him blankly for a moment, and Joel adds on, a little desperately, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Ellie just nods, watching him carefully as he stands with a wince. “I’ll be right back,” Joel repeats, squeezing her hand gently before letting go. Ellie whimpers, just slightly, but she doesn’t start to panic again. Her hands clench into fists before she wraps her arms around herself, burying her nose in the collar of his jacket. It's practically drowning her but hopefully it's at least keeping her warmer.

He clears the house as quickly as possible, forcing himself to climb the stairs even though it pulls at his side.

No Infected, no tendrils of fungus, no people. Joel takes a second to lean against the wall and breathe before he heads back down the stairs. Finally, some fucking luck.

Ellie’s where he left her when he gets back downstairs, swaying slightly where she stands. Joel doesn’t know if it’s the minutes away or what, but she looks worse than when he walked away from her. The blood on her looks darker, the bruises bigger against her pale skin. She blinks when he walks back out but otherwise doesn’t react until he reaches out a hand and guides her inside.

First order of business should be barricading the entrances, but Ellie’s shivers are getting violent, her lips the faintest tinge of blue even as she pulls Joel’s jacket tighter around herself, hands buried in the pockets.

“Wait here,” Joel says, nudging her to sit down. “I’m gonna get us a fire going and get you warmed up.”

Ellie flinches a little at the mention of fire and Joel remembers too late that she’d just barely escaped a burning building a few hours ago. Christ, he hopes making a fire doesn’t freak her out, but he’s got no other choice. The temperature has to be somewhere below freezing, and neither of them are strong enough to make it through this without the warmth a fire would give them.

Joel says thanks to a God he doesn’t believe in when he finds the upturned bucket in the kitchen, almost as big as a fire pit and thick enough to build a fire in without having to worry about burning the house down. The chimney is crumbling, so without it their only other option would have been to venture back outside, and that was really no option at all.

Joel lugs the bucket back into the living room, positioning it near a window and wedging the glass open a bit to provide some ventilation. Ellie watches him, wide-eyed, without moving from her post near the dilapidated couch.

“I’m gonna go back outside real quick,” Joel murmurs. “Gonna get some of the branches and twigs I saw out there to start a fire so we can get warmed up. I’ll be right back.”

Mutely, Ellie shrugs off his jacket and holds it out to him with a trembling hand.

“No, you keep that on.” Joel takes it from her and drapes it around her again, tugging the zipper up as best he can with numb fingers. “I won’t be out that long, and your lips are turning blue, baby.”

Ellie just nods, ducking her chin so it’s inside the jacket as well, and Joel leaves her there, still trying not to let her silence scare him. Shock, he repeats to himself. She’s in shock.

The wind is kicking up again, blowing snow flurries into his face and slicing through his thinner jacket like knives, snatching the air from his lungs. Quick as he can with numb hands, he gathers up a bundle of twigs and branches, hoping they're not too snowed on and damp to light.

When he gets back inside, Ellie is methodically tearing apart strips of fabric that she’s ripped from the couch, tossing some of them on top of chunks of wood she's added to the bucket that Joel assumes are from the fireplace mantel.

It’s not the best recipe for a fire, but hopefully it works.

It has to work.

Joel adds in some of the wood he’s picked up, making a small pile and digging out their last pack of matches from his pack. They’ve got about fifteen of them left and Joel is desperately hoping it doesn’t take more than three or four to get something lit. He’s normally pretty good at making a fire - Ellie is too, at this point - but he can’t feel his hands and the wood is damp and –

Ellie reaches forward quietly and takes the matches from him, striking one against the side of the box and holding it to one of the wood shavings she’d grabbed. It smolders, smokes, but doesn’t catch until Ellie lights another match and tries again. She holds the small flame to another chunk of wood, smaller than her fist, and waits until it catches too before carefully placing them back in the bucket.

The wood Joel brought in doesn’t catch immediately, but the fabric does, and within a few minutes they have a small crackling fire.

“Thank you,” Joel says softly, looking over at Ellie. She’s staring into the flames as if hypnotized, but at his words she turns and gives him a small nod before carefully adding another chunk of wood to the fire.

Once he can feel his hands again he makes two more trips out into the yard to gather more branches, checking each time that the smoke trickling from the cracked window isn’t thick enough to be visible. He sets the new pieces out to dry and then grabs a small pot lying on the dining room floor to gather some snow. He gets Ellie to tear more cloth from the couch, and sets the snow by the fire to melt.

It’s a far cry from the warmest they’ve ever been - Joel thinks longingly of the house back in Jackson, the days spent sweating their way through Kansas - but it’s no longer the coldest either. The blue has faded from Ellie’s lips, her shivers are less violent. Their breath still fogs the air around them but it's faintly warmer near their small fire, and Joel is no longer as afraid they'll get hypothermic.

Now comes the part he’s been dreading since he laid eyes on her outside that building at the resort. Nothing that left Ellie in this state can be good, but he has to know how badly she's hurt, especially after they just walked for miles.

“Can I help you get cleaned up?” Joel keeps his voice low, aims for a soothing tone. He’s not sure how close he gets to one, but he tries anyways. "I need to see where you're hurt."

Ellie stares ahead with her face to the flames for another moment before she makes a noise of assent and turns to face him.

Carefully, Joel dips one of the pieces of fabric in the half-melted snow and presses it to her face, as much for the cold to help with swelling as for cleanliness. She winces, but nods for him to keep going when he pulls back.

He goes through three swatches of fabric before her face and ears are clean, another four wiping down her hands.

“We’ll do your hair in a little bit, okay?” Joel sets the pot down, surveying her now that her skin is no longer coated in blood.

Bruises across the ridge of her nose and the side of her face. Scratches and welts over her hands.

Fucking handprint shaped marks around her wrists.

“I’m gonna go get more snow, alright? Keep adding some wood to the fire.” He just needs a second to pull himself together so he doesn't lose it in front of her. Doesn't think about all the ways she could have gotten those injuries, because he wasn't there to protect her. Him losing it or getting upset isn't going to help Ellie, would only make her upset or scare her, and that's the last thing she needs right now.

Ellie nods, and this time when she holds his jacket out for him he takes it, dropping a kiss on her forehead before walking back out into the snow.

–-

Joel tries, the first night, to get Ellie to tell him what happened while he was out, but she just shakes her head. She tells him where she hurts, lets him check her ribs for breaks - the bruising on her stomach makes him want to immediately turn around and march back to set fire to the whole resort - but clams up when he asks how she got the injuries, her eyes begging him not to push her right now. Joel hates it, but he relents and hopes that she'll tell him when she's ready.

He has to help her change, the sweatshirt a struggle to get off with her injured ribs, and he notices then that she’s moving her shoulder carefully too.

“Is that the one that was dislocated?” Joel keeps his focus on buttoning up the extra flannel he’s layering over her tank top and long-sleeve, hoping that she might answer if he’s not looking directly at her.

“Yeah,” Ellie whispers, nudging his hands out of the way so she can do up the last buttons herself. “It was already aching a lot with the cold weather but now it’s worse.”

Joel nudges her to sit by the fire again, draping his jacket back over her shoulders. “Probably some nerve damage got done when it got pulled out. We’re lucky I got it back in the right way on the first try.” He dips a piece of fabric in the newly melted pot of snow and starts rubbing it over the ends of her hair, trying to work out some of the blood and grime.

“Never thought I’d be grateful for a dislocated arm,” Ellie murmurs, her shoulders going a little lax at his ministrations, head listing forward.

“What do you mean?” The cloth in his hand comes away from her hair with something that looks distinctly like brain matter, and Joel carefully tears that end off and tosses it in the fire before starting again.

Ellie shrugs, her voice distant like she’s not even fully aware of what she’s saying. “Sometimes I think about what might have happened if you’d never come by that alley the first time. Or the time my shoulder got pulled out. Could’ve gone the whole rest of my life living in Boston and not knowing you existed.”

She sounds pained, the tone of her voice echoing the ache that settles against Joel's sternum at the thought. There was no telling how many times they’d nearly missed each other in the QZ, how utterly different their lives would be if Joel had just kept walking that first night. He and Tess probably would've left for Wyoming on their own, and who knows how that trip would have gone, if they would have run into the same issues and people he and Ellie had. If they would have survived.

If Ellie would still have gotten bitten alongside her friend, or if not being told she was being abandoned would have kept her safe in her dorm.

“Things work out like they’re supposed to,” Joel finally says, his voice gruff. He starts on another section of her hair, hands working methodically.

“Do you think this…” Ellie’s breathing becomes unsteady, the tension back in her shoulders. “This was how things were supposed to work out?”

Joel realizes the error of his words when her shoulders start to tremble. He had just been referring to their meetings in the QZ, but clearly Ellie had taken it as everything that had happened up until now including whatever she had been through these last days - weeks? - while Joel had been lying useless on a mattress. He wants to tell her no, no this isn’t how things were supposed to work out, that the world wouldn’t be cruel enough to do this to her on top of everything else she’s been through.

But Joel’s been around long enough to know that sometimes the world is nothing but cruel, especially to young girls like Ellie.

He discards the fabric in his hand, scooting around her so she can see him. She’s clenching her jaw, evidently trying very hard not to break down, and Joel reaches forward to wrap one of his hands around hers.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I’d like to believe this isn’t how any of this was supposed to happen, but I never know what to believe anymore in this world.” He brushes back a piece of hair from her face, ignoring when his fingertips come back tinged with red from blood he hasn’t cleaned out yet. “But it all did happen, and we’re here, and…” Goddamn there’s never been a worse time for Joel to be emotionally stunted like he is. “I’m here for you,” he finishes lamely. “Whatever you need.”

“What if...what if I don’t know what that is?”

“Then I’ll be here for you until you do,” he replies simply. “And after.”

Ellie looks up at him, looking more tired and world-weary than any fourteen-year-old ever should, and just says softly, “Okay.”

She turns away, adds another chunk of wood to their fire bucket, and Joel resumes cleaning her hair as best he can, until gently combing his fingers through it no longer has them coming out stained with red. She’s got a sizable bump on one side - and probably a concussion, if it and her general dazedness are anything to go by - and she flinches ever so slightly when he accidentally touches it.

Gently as he can, he braids her hair so it’s away from her face. She’d prefer a ponytail, he knows, but with a bump that size she’s bound to have a headache, and the ponytail would only make it worse. He has to start over a couple times - he hasn’t attempted anything like a braid in over twenty years - but Ellie just sits there patiently until he’s done. Silent. Still. Utterly unlike herself.

Then she just kind of keels over, laying on her side near the bucket, and closes her eyes. A sigh come from deep within her chest, and even though he knows he should probably keep her awake awhile longer, Joel decides to let her sleep for now if that's what she wants to do.

He drapes his sleeping bag over her for an extra layer, even though the air around them is no longer freezing, and then goes outside to find more wood.

She’s sitting up again when he comes back in, watching him carefully with the sleeping bag over her lap, and her gaze floats over to his pack when he winces a bit at a flash of pain in his side.

“Probably time for more medicine,” she says almost absently, the words seemingly more to herself than to him.

Joel’s brow furrows. “Medicine?”

Ellie nods, staggering to her feet and brushing his hands away when he tries to help. “Mmhmm.” She doesn’t elaborate, just digs through the side pocket of his pack and produces a half-empty vial and a capped syringe.

“Can I see those?”

Obediently she hands them over, and Joel angles the bottle so he can read the fading label by the dim firelight.

Penicillin.

Suddenly his still being alive makes a whole lot more sense.

“Where did you get this?”

Ellie won’t meet his eyes as she answers “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Ellie –”

“No.”

The snapped word is entirely too reminiscent of their days on the road right after Jackson, so Joel lets the matter drop. For now, at least.

Ellie holds out her hand and he passes them back to her, watching as she uncaps the syringe and inserts it into the vial, pulling out a measure of the penicillin and then pressing the plunger a little to make sure there’s no air in it. She’s a little too efficient at it, and he has to wonder how many injections she gave him while he was unconscious.

“Do I want to know how you know how to do this?” Joel settles for asking, more than a little nervous as she approaches him with the syringe in hand.

With a blank methodicalness to her that Joel really doesn’t care for, Ellie lifts his shirt and waits until he grabs it and holds it out of the way. She doesn’t give any warning before plunging the syringe in and pressing down until it’s empty, and he fights back a grimace at the sensation. It explains the random pressures in his abdomen he remembered feeling though. “Sometimes, if we went a couple days without major issues, they’d let us watch episodes of old TV shows at school, as like a treat or something.” Her voice is flat, her gaze verging on hollow as she removes the syringe and puts the cap back on it. “There were a bunch we saw - one in New York, one about people in Las Vegas solving crimes - but there was one with a bunch of doctors. Don’t know how accurate it was.” She gestures toward his side, where he’s let his shirt drop. “Don’t know if I’ve been giving you the right amount of that stuff either.”

“Well, I haven’t keeled over yet, so…”

Ellie shoots him a look that says his weak attempt at comedy is not landing right now, and he shuts his mouth. “FEDRA taught us how to do stitches, in case we got wounded by Fireflies and had to take care of it ourselves. But they didn’t teach us shit about wounds getting infected or anything after.” Anger edges onto her face for a moment before the blankness takes over again.

“Thank you,” Joel says sincerely, lifting his hand to cup her cheek gently. “You kept me alive when I was pretty damn sure I was done for, so thank you.”

She makes a faint noise as she leans into his hand, and then she’s walking past him again to sit down close to the fire.

Joel joins her, lowering himself to the ground gingerly. “You should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” Ellie agrees easily - entirely too easily for Joel’s liking - before laying down on the sleeping bag and resting her head on his thigh with her eyes closed.

It only takes a couple of strokes of his hand over her hair before her breathing evens out and she’s asleep.

–-

Ellie sleeps soundly for the first hour or so, not even registering when Joel lifts her head from his thigh and rests it on a balled-up shirt so that he can walk outside for a second and make sure there’s no signs of anyone following them. The snow has been falling consistently enough that any footprints they might have left have been eradicated, but Joel knows that with their stumbling around they probably left more than enough broken branches and blood smears to leave something of a trail for anyone half-decent at tracking.

There’s nothing, thankfully, and Joel goes back inside, resituating himself on the floor and carefully adding another log to the bucket.

It’s not until he’s readjusting, preparing to shift her so her head is resting on his thigh again, that Ellie moves. Just small shifts at first, but then her face scrunches up, her shoulders tensing and her hands balling into fists.

She starts talking, mumbling words that Joel can’t make out, but the plaintive cries she utters between them wrench at his heart.

Then she screams, startling the ever-loving shit out of him. She starts flailing too, one of her arms making contact with his side near his stab wound, forcing a pained grunt out of him. His immediate concern is moving her away from the bucket so she doesn’t burn herself or knock it over, but the second he touches her arm her screams get louder and more frantic.

“GET OFF ME! GET OFF – DON’T TOUCH ME!”

The words - the desperation with which she says them - send chills down Joel’s spine, and he wraps his hands around the sleeping bag to pull it - and her - away from the fire. He scoots away from her and her arms and rests a hand carefully on the top of her foot.

“Ellie,” he tries to keep his touch as light as possible as he shakes her ankle, “baby, wake up. It’s okay, you’re safe. I’m right here, you need to wake up, baby girl.”

Ellie quiets a little at his words, but then Joel makes the mistake of shaking her ankle a little too hard, his hand too firm. She whips upright, her fist flinging out blindly. Joel’s too slow to dodge it, and her knuckles connect with his cheekbone. Fuck, Ellie can hit hard, even when she’s not conscious.

“Joel?”

He shakes off the sting of the impact, turning back to face a now-awake Ellie who is staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Hey,” Joel says softly, extending a hand towards her. "Are you okay?"

Ellie goes scrambling backwards, her face horrified as her gaze drops to the fist she clocked him with. “Oh my god, I fucking hit you. Oh my god.”

“It’s alright,” Joel tries, keeping his hand outstretched. “It’s okay.”

Ellie just shakes her head frantically. “No, no, I hit you.” She keeps moving backwards until she’s pressed against the wall behind her, trembling. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Ellie –”

“Please don’t say my name,” she whispers. “Please, I - I hate the way it sounds right now, I don’t wanna hear it, please don’t say it.”

“Okay,” Joel hastens to reassure her, scooting a little closer when she looks down at her shaking hands. “Okay, I won’t.” She looks back up at him, wild-eyed, lower lip trembling. “Can I come a little closer?”

“I hit you,” she says plaintively. “I fucking hit you.”

Carefully, Joel moves a little closer, keeping his hands out in front of him so she can see them. “It’s alright, you didn’t mean to. You were having a bad dream, is all.”

The first tear slips down her cheek, followed by three more in rapid succession. “I’m sorry.”

“No, baby, don’t apologize.” Another inch closer. “It’s not your fault, alright? It’s not your fault.” Ellie looks like she doesn’t believe him, and he scoots marginally closer. “Say it,” he adds gently. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” she repeats, her tone uneven.

“One more time,” Joel coaches. He’s close enough now to hold her hand, but he waits for her to reach out to him first.

“It wasn’t my fault.” She still doesn’t sound as though she believes it, but she takes his hand, so he counts it as a win.

Slowly - ready to stop if Ellie flinches or looks uncomfortable - Joel closes the remaining distance between them until he’s leaning against the wall as well, wrapping his arm around her shoulder gently. She goes almost boneless, slumping over next to him and pressing her forehead to his neck.

“You’re alright, baby girl. You’re alright.”

It feels like he's lying to her, uttering those words, because he's never seen her so far from alright.

–-

They stay in that house for another three days even though being in one place for so long makes Joel feel like he’s crawling out of his skin. There’s no indication they’ve been followed, and while the wind has let up, the snow hasn’t.

They manage to keep their bucket fire going the entire time, taking turns going out to find new pieces of wood. Joel had told Ellie not to worry about it during the few times he slept, but every time he woke there was another small pile sitting there, drying out.

He tried not to let on how much it terrified him, her leaving the house alone while he slept. They’d barely survived the last time that had happened.

The penicillin runs out after three more doses, and Ellie starts watching him with this haunted look, like she expects him to collapse and die at any second. The first time she asks to see his stab wound Joel tries to refuse, not wanting to give her another visual reminder of having had to put needle and thread through his skin.

She starts to panic, and he relents.

She checks it every day, multiple times a day.

They don’t have any food, so Joel has to leave on the second day in the hopes of tracking down a rabbit or a squirrel. He doesn’t tell Ellie he’s afraid that he’ll get lost out there, in the blank whiteness of their surroundings, and not be able to find his way back, leaving her alone and defenseless yet again. He refuses to let her go with him.

She watches like a hawk as he dresses and cooks the rabbit he manages to kill, waits for him to take a bite first before she does. It fucks with his head, knowing that it means she likely knows that the people at Silver Lake were cannibals.

She throws it up later, out in the snow, not even waking him. He stirs when he registers her footsteps, then hears the retching and gets to her as quickly as possible, pulling the loose strands of her hair away from her face. He’s still braiding it, redoing it each time she wakes up as an excuse to check on how her head is healing. She cries, on the verge of hyperventilating, as she says I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry over and over again until he gets her back inside and rocks her gently back to sleep.

It feels like caring for a toddler rather than a teenager, and that thought alone is enough to send Joel spiraling into wondering who - if anyone - held her after nightmares and soothed her back to sleep when she was little. He knows, FEDRA being what it is, that there was probably no comfort offered, nobody who cared. Probably just a reprimand if she was lucky and a slap and a slap if she wasn’t.

It just makes him more determined to care for her now, as if doing so can make up for all the years he didn’t know she existed.

–-

He tries, when they’re leaving the house, to convince her they should head back to Jackson to recover, to try again when it’s warmer and they’re healed.

Ellie just stares at him for a moment and then shakes her head.

Joel hates it, but they keep heading towards Salt Lake City.

–-

Even as her nightmares continue, almost nightly, Ellie refuses to talk about what caused them, what she went through in the days while he was dying on the basement floor. It’s eating her up inside, Joel can tell, but no amount of pleading or cajoling will get her to say a word about them. All he knows are what he pieces together from the things she murmurs - screams - in her sleep, an awful refrain of leave me alone and get off me and tiny little pieces.

The ones that ache the most are when she says his name - sometimes a whimper, sometimes a cry, once or twice a scream - but clearly always calling out for him to help her, just like she had when Sam had been clawing at her. It hurts, worse than any stab wound, to think about how she may have done the same while he was unconscious, pleading for help from someone who couldn't save her.

The further they get from Silver Lake the more Ellie seems to come back to herself, though she still goes through entire days without uttering a word, days where she can’t stand the sound of her own name. Joel talks enough for the both of them those days. It weirds her out at first, he can tell, but eventually she starts prompting him, wanting to hear about Texas and things from Before.

Wanting to hear about Sarah.

The first time she asks about his daughter, it sends a sharp pain through his chest and punches a noise from his throat that he's not entirely in control of. Ellie immediately tries to take the question back but Joel just shakes his head.

“What…” he takes a deep breath, scrubs a hand over his jaw. He can do this. “What do you want to know about her?”

Ellie looks at him warily from where she’s laying on her side in her sleeping bag on the other side of the fire. “I don’t…you don’t have to.”

No he doesn’t, Joel knows that. But he feels a little like he owes this piece of himself to Ellie, to this girl he sees as his own even if she doesn’t. And while the thought of talking about Sarah hurts, it hurts less to think about sharing her with Ellie.

“What do you want to know?” He asks again, making an effort to keep his voice soft and controlled.

Ellie still looks uncertain, like she’s waiting for him to snap at her at any second. “Whatever you want to tell me, I guess. But you really don't have to.”

Joel blows out a breath, thinking back twenty or so years.

“She…” He clears his throat. “She loved hiking. We used to go together on the weekends when I wasn’t working. I’d take her out of Austin to do it, sometimes to the state park in Bastrop, sometimes to Purgatory Creek in San Marcos.”

“Delightful name for a creek,” Ellie puts in, seeming to relax more with each word Joel utters.

He forces a smile, exhaling through the ache in his gut. “Yeah, but it was a great area. Tons of trails up there, including one ten mile loop. We did that one one time, still had about a mile or so back to the car, and she damn near stepped on a copperhead. Took off runnin’ - which you’re not supposed to do if you see a snake,” he adds pointedly, “cause those are some fast fuckers and they’ll give chase. She refused to go back there again, never mind that the same snakes were all over Central Texas includin’ the other places we hiked.” I'm not about to get bit and die in the middle of nowhere San Marcos, Dad. Her voice rings through him as clearly as if she had just spoken, and closing his eyes for a split second conjures an image of her with her hands on her hips, curly hair twisted into buns on top of her head.

Ellie’s eyes had been slipping closed as he spoke, but she opens them again when he stops, watching him carefully.

“Can I say something?”

When have I ever stopped you before, Joel wants to ask, but Ellie sounds uncharacteristically serious, firelight reflected in her eyes. He nods.

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted when Maria told me about her.” She rolls onto her back so she's staring at the sky instead of him. Joel waits for her to continue. “I guess I just…it hurt, to think you could keep something as big as that from me after all the shit we’d been through.” Ellie chews on her lip, hands fidgeting on her stomach. “And now I understand why you did it, I know it wasn't really about me, but…for a bit there I just thought that I was being used as a fill-in for her, that you didn’t really want me. Especially since I did the math and I know I’m the same age she was when she...well.” She takes a deep breath. “Anyways, I'm sorry.”

“You do know that you’re not a replacement for Sarah though, right?” Joel braces his arms on his knees, watching Ellie carefully.

“Yeah.” She smiles at him, a little sadly, before turning her eyes back up to the stars again. “Yeah, I know that.” She doesn't sound like she means it.

Joel needs to be sure, needs her to be sure, because he doesn’t want Ellie walking around thinking that he’s there for any reason other than that she’s her. Puns and sass and all.

“Because you’re not,” Joel says again, wishing he were better at communicating what he was trying to say. “I miss Sarah every day, but that has nothing to do with…this.” He gestures between them, rubs a hand over his chin. Hell, might as well go for broke at this point. “A person can have more than one kid. Doesn’t mean the second is less important or a replacement for the first.”

It’s really goddamn tempting to look away after he says that, not sure he really wants to see Ellie’s reaction as her head turns back to him. But he also couldn’t tear his eyes away from her if he tried.

She goes very still, staring at him wide-eyed in silence, mouth slightly open. He doesn’t say anything either, just rubs the tips of his fingers together absently and waits for her indicate one way or the other how she feels about what he just said.

There’s a long moment - absolutely fucking excruciating for him - where Ellie seems afraid to breathe or say anything, like she thinks if she moves too suddenly Joel’s gonna take the words back.

But then she shifts, crawling out of the sleeping bag and pulling it behind her as she walks over to his side of the fire, dropping it next to him. She doesn’t wiggle back in yet, instead sitting on top of it cross-legged, her knee pressed to his thigh.

“I never thought I would have a…” Ellie cuts herself off, looking at him nervously out of the corner of her eye like it's her turn to judge his reaction to something. “A Joel. But I’m really fucking glad I do.”

It’s not what she was going to use to end the sentence, and they both know it. Honestly, he’s not sure exactly how he would have reacted if she had said a dad instead, even if he’s accepted that’s how he sees himself in relation to her.

But maybe they’re not there just yet, and that’s okay.

“I never thought I would have an Ellie,” Joel responds softly, wanting to put his arm around her but not sure how she’s feeling about touch right now. “But here we are.”

She sits quietly next to him, gradually slumping a little until she’s leaning on him with her head resting on his shoulder. He thinks she’s falling asleep, until she speaks.

“I tried to go hunting.”

Joel frowns. “When?”

“When you were in the basement.” Her voice is quiet, and Joel’s glad she’s sitting on his good side so he can hear her without having to repeat herself. “We were out of food, and I…I thought that since I’d seen you use the rifle enough I could copy you.” She laughs without humor. “Guess I should’ve taken you up on the offer to teach me.”

Joel doesn’t respond, afraid that if he interrupts she’ll stop talking altogether.

“Found a deer,” Ellie continues tonelessly. “Tried to shoot it but I must’ve done something wrong because the rifle jammed or wouldn’t fire or something. I followed it anyways, and then that’s when I ran into them.” A tremor runs through her and Joel loops his arm over her shoulder, tucks her close, as much for him as for her. “These two men.”

Joel’s stomach feels like it’s filled with lead.

“They offered to split the deer with me, offered to take me back to their settlement or bring me whatever I needed. Told them they could keep the whole deer if they brought medicine. Kept the rifle pointed at them the whole time. One guy went to get the medicine and the other stayed behind.” Ellie shakes her head. “I was so fucking stupid.” Her voice breaks on the last word. “He had to have known I couldn’t use the gun or something, but he tried to be all friendly. Let me have the medicine for you, let me go.” She looks up at him, eyes glassy. “So I could lead them to you, because those guys at the university were with them and they wanted to make you pay for the guy you killed.”

She stops talking, and Joel doesn’t push, simply reaches across with his other arm and tucks her head against his shoulder, rubbing her back gently.

Enough time passes that he thinks Ellie’s done talking about it for the night, but then she speaks up again, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I tried to lead them away, but they shot the horse from under me and I got knocked out.” An explanation for the bump she’d had on the side of her head, and Joel presses a kiss there gently. “And then I woke up in a cage.”

Joel can’t help it - his entire body tenses at her words, and Ellie feels it, leaning away from him.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, looking down at her hands, “I’ll stop talking about it.”

Joel hastens to reassure her. “No, I’m sorry, I just…” he sighs. “It’s not easy to hear what you went through, but I know it was worse goin’ through it. So if you wanna talk about it, I wanna listen.”

“No, I…I think I’m done for the night,” Ellie says, gaze fixed on the fire. “I don’t…I can’t…” she trails off, looking down at her hands, and Joel reaches over to hold them in one of his.

“Okay. But any time you wanna talk, you tell me, alright?”

Ellie looks relieved that he’s not pushing her, and she nods, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “Alright.”

–-

The story comes out in bits and pieces after that, sometimes by Ellie sitting next to him and choking the words out, straightforward. Other times by little throwaway comments she makes, ones that have him waiting till she’s not nearby to slam a fist into a tree or bend over to cough up bile.

Doesn't hurt as bad as being kicked in the ribs.

Neck wounds gush a lot.

She asks once if he thinks it's possible for someone to be inherently violent and looks wrecked when he says that yes, some people probably are. He does his best to explain that there's a difference in being violent for violence's sake - something Joel himself is very well-versed in - and being violent as a means to protect yourself or defend against someone who would do violence to you. That's when she tells him, in a frightening monotone, about the cleaver, about hacking a man's face apart until there was less than nothing left, because he had been on top of her and she had panicked.

Joel tells her, in the calmest possible voice he can manage, that a man who does that to a teenage girl deserves far worse, and that she did his settlement a favor by getting rid of him. That he was a predator who probably had several victims among his own people, and that defending herself against that type of man does not mean she has a violent heart.

(He keeps to himself the thoughts of all the ways he would have made that perverted shitbag suffer, for even having thought to put his hands on Joel's daughter or any other young girl.)

He tries his best to be what she needs, even if he’s pretty sure she needs something more than an internally fractured half-deaf old man. He wants to think he’s helping her, listening when she wants to talk, talking when she’s silent and lost in her head. She curls up next to him after nightmares and he lets her arrange him however she needs to be comfortable.

She still wakes up screaming though.

–-

The days all blur into each other, like they had when walking from Kansas City to Jackson. Wake up, walk a ways, rest, walk some more, stop for the night, sleep (hopefully), repeat. They stay more than one night in some places, depending on how tired Joel feels.

(How out of it he thinks Ellie is.)

Some of the urgency has gone out of the trip, at least for Joel. The only reason he feels inclined to rush or push on further some days is because the sooner they get to the Fireflies and get this cure nonsense over with, the sooner he can take his kid home and let her really start to heal.

She still can’t really keep down meat, though she tries her damnedest because some days it’s all they can get. They get lucky once or twice, find some canned food or get close enough to a river to catch fish, which doesn't seem to set her off the same way red meat does. It’s only when their only options are rabbit and squirrel that she struggles.

The fact that she apologizes to him every time she throws it up breaks his fucking heart, because it’s not her fault, just like the times she’s accidentally hit him because he got too close when she was coming out of a nightmare. None of it is her fault, he reminds her over and over while holding back her hair or wiping her tears.

It’s his.

–-

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

Ellie shifts a little where she’s curled up next to him after waking from a nightmare, watching their fire. It no longer gets below freezing at night, snow melting as soon as it hits the ground now, but he’s taking no chances with keeping either of them warm.

“Are you…” She trails off, and Joel just rubs a hand over her back slowly, waiting patiently. Ellie’s no longer the talkative, nosy girl she once was, and he’s had to learn to wait until she brings something up so that he knows she’s present and comfortable.

Ellie stays silent another minute, and then turns her head so her face is pressed into his chest. Her question comes out muffled.

“Are you still gonna take me to the Fireflies and leave me there with them while you go back to Jackson?”

You’re gonna fucking leave me there with them…and then I never have to see you ever again.

The memory of her words in Jackson - words he hasn’t really thought about since Silver Lake - have his shoulders tensing, something Ellie can clearly feel because she goes stiff as well, fingertips digging into his chest.

“Is that still what you want me to do?” He asks instead of answering her directly, cowardice getting the better of him. His answer is fuck no, of course not, but he no longer knows where Ellie’s head is at regarding this. He’d like to think, with everything they’ve talked about over these last weeks - months? - of walking, that they’re past that fight.

He feels her take a deep breath, the exhale a little shaky, before she says quietly, “No.”

“Then no, I’m not.”

“Are you sure?” She sounds unsure, the hand tucked beneath her chin shifting so it’s wrapped around part of his jacket.

“Yeah, baby, I’m sure.” Joel runs a hand over the top of her head before returning to her back. “I never wanted to do that anyways. So we’ll get to the Fireflies, they’ll take your blood or whatever for their cure, and then we’ll go back to Jackson. Hopefully Tommy won’t have given away our house.”

“It was a nice house,” Ellie agrees, her voice thick. “Although my room would need a paint job or something, I hated those colors.”

“Yeah, they weren’t the greatest,” Joel agrees. “But I’m sure we can figure somethin’ out, Tommy probably would know where to get some paint.”

“Sweet.” The hand gripping his jacket tightens briefly. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

Ellie sits up and carefully places another log on the fire, keeping her back kind of turned to him. “For not like, ditching me or whatever.”

Joel’s spine goes stiff. “What do you mean?”

A quick glance over her shoulder, and then she’s resolutely staring at the fire again. “Well, I was…kind of awful to you when we left Jackson. And the days we were on the road to the university. And then after…” she trails off, reaches a hand up to scrub at her face. “I couldn’t exactly pull my weight so I wouldn’t really have blamed you if you’d just gone back to Jackson and let me go to Salt Lake City by myself.”

It shreds at him that the idea of being abandoned in the wilderness to fend for herself is something that Ellie wouldn't blame him for. How many times, he wonders, was she threatened with something similar in FEDRA? How many times did it happen?

How long is it going to take him to undo all the hurts the world has heaped on the thin shoulders of this one little girl?

“Ellie, look at me.” Joel waits until she turns, watching at him cautiously over her shoulder. “There’s not a damn thing that would ever make me leave you to do this by yourself. Understood?”

She hesitates and then nods, blinking rapidly and turning back to look at the flames again. “Understood.”

–-

Ellie finally lets him teach her how to shoot the rifle. Pesters him into it, more like. And Joel caves, because he’d already been planning to do it and because when she’s saying c’mon man! she sounds more like herself than she has in ages.

She tenses a little when he puts it in her hands, and Joel remembers too late that the last time she’d held it she’d been facing down the fuckers who later abducted her and put her through hell. He moves as if to take it back, but she seems to shake herself out of it and looks up at him inquisitively.

“Now what?”

–-

“Okay so if you mess up your…fourth down? Then you give the ball to the other team?”

Joel nods, glancing over his shoulder at her to watch as she hops from boulder to boulder. “Right, it’s called a turnover.”

“Turnover,” Ellie repeats, arms outstretched to the side for balance. “But if you make it ten yards then you’re back to first down.”

“Yep.”

“So…basically just moving in one direction.” She looks thoroughly unimpressed by the idea, hopping down from the last rock and walking up to him.

“Well yeah, but…violent.”

“Ah,” Ellie says sagely, “well there’s that.”

He arches an eyebrow at her and she smiles, letting loose the first laugh he’s heard from her since Jackson.

The most beautiful goddamn sound in the world.

–-

If he’s honest, Joel was starting to think they’d never actually reach Salt Lake City. It had taken them so long to get there that he’d kind of forgotten this wasn’t their actual life, just walking every day with no end in sight. He was rather used to it at this point honestly, he just wishes they were doing this endless walk back to Jackson and not towards a hospital. He didn’t know what the Fireflies’ plan was for this miracle cure, but he had a sinking feeling - that he did not share with Ellie - that it wouldn’t be as simple as a blood draw.

No, something like this was bound to come with lots of tests and experiments, time where Ellie would probably have to stay in the hospital like some kind of lab rat.

Joel’s just hoping that if that’s the case, they don’t raise a goddamn fuss about him staying there with her. Because he leaves her over his dead body, and he'll mow down as many Fireflies as it takes to get the point across.

He digs out Chef Boyardee and Boggle from an old camper, gets a small smile from her. Her real smiles are rare these days, especially when she’s kind of lost in her head like she has been since they woke up. Joel doesn’t know if it’s because they’re nearly to the hospital or if she’s just having a bad day.

So he offers to teach her to play guitar and to swim when they get back to Jackson, which seems to pull Ellie out of herself a little. She walks close enough to him to hang on to his backpack strap, like she had on their way through Kansas, and he offers her a soft smile in return.

“Tommy’s still gonna let me back into Jackson, right?” Ellie asks as their path takes them through an alley. “I mean, I kind of snapped at him before we left, about giving my spot away.”

Joel places a hand on the top of her backpack to guide her around some rubble. “Course he will. Hell, he’d probably rather have you than me. And if he doesn’t, I’ll just punch him in the face.”

Ellie snorts. “That I’d like to see.”

They duck under a beam, Ellie waiting till Joel’s out on the other side and indicated it’s clear before following. “Well, you might. I mean, he and I got into our share of fights growin’ up, even one or two after he came back from the Army.” He points to the left. “Let’s go in here, see about gettin’ a higher vantage point so we can get a good look around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.” Ellie brushes past him. “So you’re sure Tommy won’t be like, mad at me or anything?”

Now it’s his turn to snort, craning his neck to look at the levels above them. “You kiddin’ me? He’ll probably be tryin’ to bribe you into likin’ him. He loved bein’ an uncle, I’m sure he’s chompin’ at the bit to do it again, gang up on me with you and shit.”

Ellie doesn’t respond, and Joel turns from his inspection to look at her. Her hand is frozen where she’d been reaching for an old book, an odd look on her face.

“Is that what Tommy is? My uncle?”

Joel can’t tell from her tone quite how she wants him to answer, so he hesitates, watching her closely. “I mean, if you want him to be.” Ellie doesn’t react, and Joel continues, “He’s my brother, and you’re my kid –” her cheeks twitch a little but she doesn’t interrupt “– so technically it would make him your uncle. But you don’t have to call him that or anything, and if you don’t want him to say it just tell me and I’ll tell him. He wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“An uncle,” Ellie says slowly, like she’s testing out how the word feels. “Never had one of those before either.”

Joel takes a step back, trying to peer over the ledge. “Well, Tommy’s a pretty good one to have, in my opinion. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ellie responds with a devilish smile that tells him she’ll be running straight to Tommy with it when they get back to Jackson.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Joel says dryly. “C’mere, I’m gonna boost you up, and you lower that ladder down to me.”

–-

There are goddamn giraffes in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. Joel can only assume the zoo used to be somewhere around here, and he guesses he should just be glad it’s giraffes and not a lion or tiger out roaming around.

Ellie’s laugh, when the giraffe’s tongue reaches out and wraps around the branch in her hand, is the sweetest thing he’s heard in awhile. She doesn’t do it as freely as she used to, something that lodges an ache behind his ribs if he thinks about it too long.

He doesn’t get the chance now though, because the giraffe is ambling away, and Ellie is sprinting up the nearest stairs to try to find it again. About gives him a goddamn heart attack for the few brief seconds she’s out of his sight - something he knows he’s gonna have to work on - until he finds her on a balcony of some sort, watching the giraffes from a distance.

Joel gives himself a second to enjoy the sight, his kid watching wild or semi-wild animals as if they were actually at the zoo, a soft smile on her face.

“Is it everything you hoped for?”

Ellie nudges him with her elbow when he gets close enough, turning his own gaze out to the animals. “It’s got its ups and downs. But man, you can’t deny that view.”

It’s wild, Joel thinks as he drops an arm over her shoulders and squeezes, how far they’ve come from the first time they said those words back in Boston. He hadn’t yet put a name to what Ellie was to him then, hadn’t yet learned to live with the way she dug up all his old buried parental instincts. He’s not even sure he would recognize that Joel, the one still doing his best to care for Ellie while keeping her at an arm’s length. He’d like to shake that version of himself, knock some sense into his thick head. Tell him this is your second chance, this remarkable girl right here is yours and the sooner you accept that the happier the two of you will be.

But as he’d told Ellie back when he was washing blood and brains out of her hair, things happen the way they’re supposed to.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Joel finds himself saying, glancing down at her. “I know we’re just about there, and maybe there’s nothing bad out there. But it seems like there always is, and we don’t know what the Fireflies have in mind. So we don’t have to do this. I just…I want you to know that.”

Ellie just looks up at him, confused. “What do you mean? What else are we supposed to do?”

Joel shrugs. “We go back to Jackson. Forget about the whole damn thing, just go live normal, safe lives.”

The smile she offers is sad, apologetic. “After everything we’ve been through…everything I’ve done…it can’t have been for nothing.” She says it almost like a question, like she’s reassuring herself. “I know you mean well, and that you want to protect me. And you have. Nobody’s ever protected me like you have.” She takes a breath, and Joel reaches out to brush back a piece of her hair carefully. “And when we’re done, we’ll go back to Jackson or anywhere else you want. I’ll follow you anywhere you go.”

Her words latch into his chest, settling something there he hadn’t known was unmoored. He’s so busy trying to absorb them he nearly misses the next thing she says.

“But there’s no halfway with this. We finish what we started.”

–-

It’s been twenty - almost twenty-one - years since he’s been in an Army medical camp like this, but the time elapsed doesn’t make it feel any less like a gut punch. Joel has to stop walking for a second, buying himself time under the guise of looking through one of the tents.

Ellie pulls him back though, with questions about what they’re standing in the middle of.

“Was this FEDRA?”

Joel steps back out of the tent, not quite meeting Ellie’s eyes. “No, Army. They put a lot of these up in the early days of the outbreak, when we still didn’t really know what was goin’ on. Emergency medical camps.”

Ellie looks around them again, walking over to the remnants of a concrete barrier and hoisting herself up on top of it. “Seems like they didn’t last.”

“They didn’t.” The next words slip out before he can really think about it. “They had me in one just like this.”

Ellie’s head whips around to look at him, eyes wide. “With Sarah?”

“No.” Joel shifts, hand tightening around the strap of his rifle. “She was gone already.” When Ellie tilts her head in question, he gestures to his scar. “For this.”

“Right,” Ellie replies slowly, jumping down from the barrier and kicking a random rock. “The guy who shot at you and missed. I thought that would’ve come later, like when you were smuggling or whatever.”

“Second day, actually.” He’s dancing around the truth now, so close to the bitter words he can taste them. He’s just afraid Ellie will look at him differently if he says them.

“What happened, someone think you were Infected or something?” Another rock goes skittering away, and the noise it makes against an overturned table seems to break off something inside of him.

Joel walks over to the barrier she’d been standing on, sitting down and taking the rifle off his shoulder. “It was me, actually. I was the guy who shot and missed.” The words come out so quietly he can barely hear himself. He doesn’t look up at Ellie, not really wanting to see her expression. If he does, he might not get it all out. “There’s no story. Sarah died, and I didn’t see the point in goin’ on. Simple as that.” Ellie steps over to him slowly, sitting next to him and waiting silently. Her hand twitches like she wants to reach for his. “I wasn’t scared either, I was ready. I couldn’t have been more ready. But I went to pull the trigger, and I…I flinched. Still don’t know why.”

Finally Joel looks over at her, and he doesn’t think he has a word in his vocabulary for how hollowed out Ellie looks next to him. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just wraps both of her hands around his arm and presses her face into his bicep.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says quietly, pressing his forehead to the crown of her head. “Maybe I shouldn’t’ve told you all that, I –”

“No,” Ellie interjects, pulling back so she can look him in the eye. “No, I’m glad you did. And...I’m really glad…that didn’t work out.” She blinks a couple times, and Joel pulls his arm from her grasp so he can hug her properly, left hand coming up to rest on the nape of her neck.

“Me too, baby girl. Me too.”

They sit there like that for probably too long, out in the open as they are, but Joel can’t bring himself to move. He knows now, why he flinched so many years ago. He was needed in Boston, needed to be walking down a shitty street and passing an alleyway when a teenage girl was getting beat up by three boys.

It doesn’t erase the pain of Sarah’s death, doesn’t make him miss her any less. Sometimes it actually makes him miss her more.

But it helps a little, to think that the universe guided his hand away from his head at the right moment back in September 2003 for a specific reason. For Ellie, a girl who didn’t even exist yet.

Ellie pulls away first, running her sleeve under her nose. “Time heals all wounds, I guess.” She looks up at him, brown eyes glassy and filled with understanding, and Joel shakes his head.

“It wasn’t time that did it.”

She tries to smile, the corners of her mouth twitching. Joel thinks for a second that maybe what he said was too much, too heavy for her thin shoulders, but then she looks down at her hands and says

“I thought about it too.”

Joel’s brow furrows. “Thought about what?” Please don’t let her fucking mean what he thinks she means.

Ellie sighs, a sound that seems to come from deep within her, and her gaze lifts to the wrecked tent in front of them. “When Riley and I got bit, and then she turned and I didn’t. And I was just sitting there in the mall with her body and a gun, and…well I thought there was nobody left that would give a shit if I lived or died. Plus,” a laugh that’s not really a laugh escapes her, “there was the whole waiting to turn into a fucking monster part. Thought it would be better if I eliminated the possibility.”

Nobody left that would give a shit.

Because barely a day earlier, Joel himself had told her that he and Tess were leaving the QZ for good. That despite letting Ellie into their lives, reluctantly though it may have been, they were still going to ditch her with barely a warning, barely a farewell.

God fucking damnit.

“I never picked up the gun though,” Ellie says, her hand curling around his wrist. “I had dropped it after shooting Riley, and I couldn’t make myself pick it up again. And then I heard other people coming into the mall and I panicked. Went to your place.”

“I’m really, really glad you did.” Joel tilts a little, leaning until their shoulders are braced together and his cheek is resting on top of her head.

“Me too.”

They stay like that for a moment until Ellie straightens. “Now,” she clears her throat, rolls her shoulders back, “let’s go find these Fireflies and get this shit over with. I really wanna get back home and take a really hot fucking shower.”

Home.

Strange, really, to think about having something as simple as a home again. Something he had taken for granted a lifetime ago, something that was now within his grasp again. A home, with belongings and hot water and no threat of imminent death or torture every time they walked out the front door.

A home, with Ellie.

So close Joel can practically feel it.

And then the Fireflies decide the only way to get their cure is to kill his child, and it all slips away before he can get his hands around it.

Chapter Text

Ellie’s quiet in the backseat, laying down and facing away from him.

The lies had burned on his tongue but they were necessary, a stopgap until he could get her back to Jackson and tell her the truth. And he was going to tell her the truth, he just…

It scared him, more than he wanted to admit, what Marlene had said about Ellie wanting to do the "right thing". Because he knew it could be true, knew there was a chance Ellie would have been willing to die for the chance at a cure even if it wasn’t a certainty. She’d been holding onto the thought of saving people with increased intensity since Riley, since Tess, since Sam.

Since Silver Lake.

After everything I’ve done…it can’t have been for nothing.

And fuck, that was what scared Joel more than anything, the fact that Ellie might have been willing to die just for the last six months to have a reason, a purpose.

That she’d be willing to leave him, for something that might not even work.

And that was selfish of him, Joel knew it, to want her to stick around for him, for him to damn the world for her. It had been selfish of him to tell her what he had back in the Army camp, to put the weight of his life on her shoulders.

He hadn’t meant for it to be that way - he had just wanted her to know that her life had mattered to him because it was hers, not because she might have the cure for the end of the world running through her veins.

But now he was here, with his kid laying in the backseat grappling with the fact that the thing that made her special - after a lifetime of being unimportant - didn’t matter anyways.

And when he told her the truth, he didn’t even know if they’d have anything left between them or if he’d laid waste to it back at the hospital.

It’s not like there had been time to think it through really - they were already taking her in for surgery when he came to, and if he had been out just a little longer, she might have already been gone.

He never could have lived with that.

–-

The car gives out a few hours from Jackson, and Ellie just sort of nods when he tells her the rest of the way will be on foot. She’s quiet the entire walk back, and Joel doesn’t try to make her talk, doesn’t try to carry on a conversation. He just lets her be, mulling over in his mind when the best time to sit down with her in Jackson and tell her what he’s done is. Does he give her an adjustment period, let them both recover and settle in, or does he just rip the bandaid off tonight?

(He knows himself, and knows the longer he sits on it the less likely he is to tell her at all. The less likely she is to forgive him if she ever finds out.)

In the end, Joel doesn’t get to decide. Ellie brings it up again as they’re on the ridge overlooking Jackson, hands clenching and unclenching.

“Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies was true.”

I swear sits right on the tip of Joel’s tongue, presses against his lips, begging to be let out. He could say it, could try to convince Ellie that what he said is the truth. Maybe she’d believe him - the look in her eyes says she wants to. Maybe she’d make herself believe him, for the sake of preserving things between them.

But Ellie is smart, and she is persistent. If she doubts him even the slightest bit, she’ll hunt down the truth until she finds it, whether it be next month or years from now. And if he lies and she finds out, it’ll make it all so much worse.

He could lose her.

So Joel swallows the words, forces himself to look her in the eyes and say “It’s not.”

Ellie takes a deep breath, looks away from him over at Jackson. “What happened?”

“They were gonna kill you.” Just saying the words has the anger rising in him again. “I woke up in the hospital and Marlene said they were preppin’ you for surgery to remove the cordyceps from your brain.”

Ellie doesn’t react, still not looking at him. “What did you do?”

“I stopped them.”

“You mean you killed them,” Ellie replies acidly, turning fully away from him. “And ruined any chance of a cure.”

He’s on thin ice with her, Joel knows, and it’s the only thing that keeps him from scoffing derisively. Instead he sucks in a breath through his teeth, forces his voice to remain even. “Marlene said the doctor thought it could be a cure. They didn’t seem to know for sure that it would work. They would have killed you and it could have been for nothin’.”

“Or it could have been for everything!” Ellie yells, whirling back around to face him. “It could have been a cure or a vaccine, and you took that away! You knew how much this meant to me and you took that away from me! This was supposed to be my decision, and you fucking made it for me!”

“So did they,” Joel replies flatly. “Marlene said they didn’t tell you so that you wouldn’t be scared. They were gonna cut your brain out of your head without givin’ you the chance to say no.”

“I don’t give a shit about them.” Ellie steps forward and shoves him, catching him off guard and sending him back a couple steps. “I trusted you.” Her use of the past tense doesn’t escape him. “You were the person who was supposed to have my back, you were the one who knew how badly I needed this to work. You were my fucking person, Joel.” She shoves him again, and he lets her. “And you’re not even fucking sorry about it, are you?” The look in her eyes dares him to try lying to her again.

“I’ll never be sorry for keepin’ you alive,” Joel says firmly. “Do I wish it had gone down differently? Absolutely. But they didn’t give you a choice, and in doin’ so they didn’t fuckin’ give me one either. Your life will always matter to me, more than anything else, baby girl.”

“No,” Ellie replies immediately. “You’ve fucking lost the right to call me that.”

His jaw clenches, but Joel doesn’t argue with it.

“It was all supposed to mean something.” A plaintive, pleading note threads through her voice, wrapping around Joel’s throat and sealing it shut. “Riley and Tess and Sam and fucking Silver Lake. It was all supposed to be worth it in the end, all the shit that happened to us. And it’s not, and it’s your goddamn fault.”

She glares at him hatefully for another moment before turning around and starting down the trail towards Jackson. He has no choice but to follow, remaining a few steps behind her until the patrol comes up to them, and then he puts himself between her and their guns. Whether she wants it or not, he will always put himself between her and danger.

They get sniffed down again while someone goes to fetch Tommy to verify their identities. He’s less concerned about the dog sensing something with Ellie than he was the first time around, but that terror still sits at the base of his stomach until the dog is called back to its handler.

Tommy arrives after about a half hour, and practically launches himself off his moving horse when he gets to them. He pulls Joel in for a tight hug, not unlike the one they'd shared months ago, clapping him on the back.

“Was startin’ to get pretty damn worried about y’all,” he says, relief written all over his face. He turns towards Ellie but she just takes a step away from him, glaring at him the same way she had at Joel, as if she blames him for the lack of a cure too. Tommy shoots Joel a questioning look, and he just shakes his head and mouths later.

“It was a long trip,” is all Joel says aloud, conscious of the patrol group watching them, not even pretending to not be listening in. “Showers and beds sound pretty good right now.”

Tommy gestures to his horse, a sturdy painted mare standing by calmly. “Let’s get y’all home then. You can take my ride, I’ll double up with someone.”

Joel claps a hand on his brother’s shoulder before he mounts up. Ellie eyes the arm that he extends to her like it’s poisonous, but after only a moments’ hesitation she grabs onto it, letting Joel pull her up behind him. She keeps herself stiff, separate from him, the same way they’d ridden away from Jackson so many months ago.

The ride back is largely silent, the only conversation coming from the patrol members around them. Tommy sends more than a few curious glances their way, but he doesn’t ask and Joel doesn’t volunteer any information.

The gates loom ahead of them, and gradually the other patrol members peel off and return to their route while Tommy follows Joel and Ellie on foot.

They’re barely stopped outside the stables, Joel putting out a steadying hand that Ellie shoves away when she stumbles dismounting, before she’s stomping off in the direction he remembers their house being, leaving him to help Tommy untack the horse and unload their few belongings.

Tommy wants to ask, Joel can tell his brother is bursting with questions, but he doesn’t say anything, mindful of the other people working in the stables. Last thing he wants or needs is for him and Ellie to be the subject of even more gossip than they’re already sure to be.

–-

Ellie’s nowhere to be seen when Joel and Tommy get to the house, but they can hear her stomping around upstairs so at least he knows she hasn’t tried to run away. Yet.

“I see you two didn’t work things out,” Tommy says as they walk into the kitchen, and Joel shakes his head.

“No, actually, we had. We’d worked it all out until earlier today.” He starts opening cabinets and drawers under the guise of reminding himself where things are located, grabbing a coffee mug and pulling it down for tomorrow. Really, he’s avoiding having to look at his brother so that he can postpone explaining all the ways he’s made his kid hate him. All the ways he’s failed, yet again.

Tommy looks at him curiously. “What the hell happened today? You guys get to make the cure?”

“No, we didn’t,” Ellie snaps from behind him, and Joel startles, turning around to look at her. He hadn’t heard her come down, and neither had Tommy apparently, since he jumps damn near a foot in the air, elbow smacking into the doorframe. “Your brother here fucking ruined it.”

Tommy’s gaze flicks briefly to Joel and then settles back on Ellie, unsure. “Yeah he has a tendency to be a fuck up like that.”

Ellie just levels him with a look nearly as hostile as the ones she’s been giving Joel, and he sees his brother fight the instinct to take a step back. For a fourteen-year-old, Ellie can be pretty damn terrifying when she wants to be. “It’s not a fucking joke. They could have made a cure, and now the world is gonna stay ruined because of your brother. And let me be clear to you,” her head turns to Joel, and he braces himself. “The only reason I’m staying here is because I don’t wanna go live with strangers. Otherwise I’d be fine with never seeing your fucking face again.”

A chasm opens in Joel’s chest, sucking the air from his lungs. He can’t quite get any words out, so he just clenches his jaw and nods, watching her as she spins on her heel and stomps back up the stairs.

This time, the water starts running in the bathroom.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean that,” Tommy says quietly from next to him, but Joel doesn’t look over, unwilling to see Tommy’s reaction to how wrecked he feels right now.

“In all the time I’ve known her,” Joel says slowly, each word feeling like it weighs a ton, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her mean anything more.”

–-

Tommy wants to pry, but Joel sends him away with the promise of an explanation at another time and heads upstairs to take his own shower.

He’d like to believe that in time they’ll work past this, same as they had her issues over Sarah. They’ll just have to do it without the life-threatening situations that had driven them back together, reemphasized and reinforced their reliance on each other.

But Ellie is stubborn to a fault, and he doesn’t think any amount of time or stab wounds will push her past this. Hell, if he got stabbed now he wouldn’t be surprised if she just let him bleed out instead of stitching him up.

Joel shuts off the water, stepping out of the tub and wrapping the towel around his waist. The mirror over the sink in his bathroom is big enough that he can see the lower part of his abdomen, the scar from Colorado. He runs his fingers over the bumps of the skin, uneven and discolored, scarred not just where he’d been stabbed, but also where Ellie had threaded a needle in and out of his skin in a desperate attempt to keep him alive. He should be dead now, there’s no doubt. Dead and rotting in Colorado, except for the determination of one teenage girl.

All she’d gotten from the universe in return for saving Joel was trauma and pain. All she’d gotten in return from him for saving his life was a blatant disregard of her wishes, the ruination of - in her eyes - the entire reason for her existence.

Joel turns away from the mirror and gets dressed. He doesn’t look at himself again.

–-

Ellie doesn’t speak to him unless she has to. Not a good morning, not a I drank the last of the juice, not even a go fuck yourself. She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t sit with them in the dining hall, doesn’t touch the food he brings back when she’s not there.

It’s a little scary, honestly, how easily she’s shut off everything between them. It hurts something awful too, but Joel knows he only has himself to blame, and he doesn’t push her. Maybe, he hopes a little desperately, with some time and space and him respecting her boundaries, she’ll at least want to talk to him at some point. She’ll thaw.

But it passes through May and into June, and Ellie’s still as remote and silent as ever, her face blank and her voice unfailingly polite on the exceedingly rare occasion she does speak to him.

(What he wouldn’t give to hear a cuss word or a godawful pun right now.)

She goes to the stables, the dining hall, wherever she’s been assigned on her work rotation when their settling-in period has passed, and when she’s home she stays in her room. He doesn’t try to enter, other than to set her laundry on her bed when she’s not there. Doesn’t touch any of her stuff, tries not to even let himself look around and see if she’s making the room her own.

Someone finds a couple sketchbooks in decent condition on patrol, and Joel trades a fence repair for them. He leaves them on Ellie’s desk next time he takes her laundry in, along with some pencils and charcoal from Caroline down the road. He doesn’t get a thank you, doesn’t expect one, but takes it as a good sign (though he wouldn’t exactly call it promising) that he doesn’t immediately find them in the trash.

Joel finds four issues of Savage Starlight on a patrol one day, along with a book about space, and he leaves those for her too. Caroline gives him more pencils for her - doesn’t even ask for a trade and waves off his offer of one - and he puts those on her desk as well.

Ellie gets to go out on her first foraging trip beyond the wall - without him, which aches and scares him for a variety of reasons - and he uses the day she’s gone to install the shelves he’d made her, with Tommy’s help, on the wall just inside her room by the door. Some of his best craftsmanship, if he does say so himself, stepping back to admire them once they’re hung. He doesn’t dare put any of her stuff on it, knowing already he’s treading on thin ice with this, but hopefully she’ll like them.

–-

His patrol one day takes him near an old museum, and he leaves his partner, a quiet young guy with shoulders broader than most doorways, outside while he goes in to take a look around. There’s a giant t-rex statue outside that he can picture Ellie climbing entirely too easily, which makes his chest ache. He goes inside anyways, gun at the ready, eyes and one good ear peeled for sounds.

No Infected, no humans.

Just a shit-ton of dinosaur skeletons and fossils, the remnants of an exhibit that had clearly just gotten underway before the Outbreak.

Ellie would love it, Joel knows. She’d chatter his ear off with dinosaur facts while bouncing between displays like a damn ping pong ball.

He really wishes he could bring her here.

Impulsively, Joel ducks into the gift shop, keeping his good ear turned toward the door while scanning the shelves. Lots of little knickknacks lay strewn about. Keychains, replica dinosaur eggs, little informational booklets. He snags one of those and a larger book on dinosaurs, tucking them into his backpack before heading back out through the exhibit. There’s more to the museum that he didn’t get to clear, but he’s left his partner waiting long enough. He can report back to Maria and she can send another team to check it out more thoroughly.

Hell, once it’s deemed safe, maybe he can find a way to bring –

Joel stops the thought there, offering a tight nod to Eric as he emerges and mounts up, the two of them pointing their horses back in the direction of Jackson.

Ellie deserves to see the museum. It’s just not gonna be him that gets to take her there.

–-

“Joel.”

He’d heard her coming down the stairs, but he hadn’t expected her to speak to him, and it’s hard not to drop the dish he’s washing in surprise. “Hmm?”

“Stop trying to buy my forgiveness.”

Carefully, Joel finishes wiping the plate down and sets it on the rack to dry, still not turning to look at her like it’ll scare her off. “I’m not.” He picks up another plate, runs the soapy sponge over it.

“You are. With the sketchbooks and pencils and comics and shelves and now this fucking dinosaur book.”

It’s refreshing, to hear something like anger in her voice, after so much indifference. He finishes wiping the other plate and sets it on the rack as well. He shuts off the water and finally turns to face her.

Ellie’s face is blank but for the little flicker of anger in her eyes. She looks thinner, now that Joel can see her properly, her cheekbones sharper, her shoulder blades standing out. There’s shadows under her eyes that he fully expected to see, since he knows she’s still having nightmares. But after the first time he’d gone into her room to try to help her through it, she’d taken to locking the door at night. Joel was forced to just sit in the hallway and listen until her cries stopped and it sounded like she had gone back to sleep.

It was pretty fucking awful, and it just heaped more guilt onto Joel’s shoulders, knowing how easily she used to curl up against him for comfort when she was scared or upset. Now she was having to do it alone nearly every night because she no longer felt she could trust him.

Joel realizes he’s been staring silently too long, and he looks down at his hands, wiping them dry with the towel before hanging it over the handle on the oven door. “Not tryin’ to buy your forgiveness, ba- Ellie. Just saw those things and thought you’d like ‘em, so I wanted you to have ‘em.”

“Well stop,” she replies icily, hands clenched into fists. “I don’t want or need a fucking thing from you, Joel.”

It sounds like it hurts her as much to say it as it hurts him to hear it, and Joel clenches his jaw. “Alright.”

Ellie eyes him warily for a moment, like she’d expected him to fight her on it, before she spins on her heel and goes back upstairs.

Joel watches her till she’s out of sight and then turns back to the sink. He can’t pick up the next dish yet, doesn’t quite trust himself not to throw it against the wall, so instead he curls his hands over the lip of the sink, his knuckles whitening.

They can’t keep going like this.

–-

Tommy is the one that brings him the solution near the end of June, in the form of an old farmhouse a half-mile outside Jackson’s walls. It’s in need of repairs, new fencing, general maintenance to get it ready for the sheep to be moved there. The flock has gotten larger than the barn inside the walls can manage, and with some reinforcing, the farmhouse is the perfect location for them. Eventually the Jackson walls themselves will be expanded to include it, but the council wants repairs on the farmhouse and barn started first to make sure it’s a viable project, Tommy says.

“I’ll do it,” Joel says almost immediately, even though he knows Tommy wasn’t planning to ask him. “I’ll go out there and fix it up. I’ll…” he hesitates, looking over his shoulder towards the stairs. “I’ll stay out there while I do it too.”

Tommy’s gaze also darts to the stairs. “That’s…you don’t have to stay out there to do the repairs. It’s only a half-mile, it’s an easy ride there and back. Plus it’s outside the walls, you’d be alone if there’s raiders or Infected.”

“No, I know.” Joel slowly rotates his mug between his hands, staring into the depths of the tea like it’ll have all the answers. “But I think it would be for the best. Ellie needs some space from me, and this way she doesn’t have to uproot herself to do it. She can stay here, with y’all next door to keep an eye on her, and I’ll make sure to be back before winter.” It’s all coming together a little too easily as he says it out loud, and that just makes Joel more certain that it’s the right path. Painful as hell though it is.

“Joel, I really don’t think…” Tommy trails off, gaze drifting back to the staircase behind him. “Why would you do that?”

A choked noise escapes his throat. “My daughter hates me, Tommy.” It’s the first time he’s uttered the word aloud, and it should feel clumsy, heavy, hurtful even. But it just feels right, and Joel scrubs a hand over his face. “She hates me for saving her life. And I don’t fuckin’ blame her.” Tommy’s silent, and Joel looks up, absorbs the surprise written across his brother’s face. “Yeah, I – you were right. Tess was right.”

“Tess?” Tommy’s brow furrows.

“I never actually told you how Ellie and I met, did I?” Joel realizes, leaning back in his chair. In all the adjusting to living in Jackson, settling in and dealing with whatever was happening between him and Ellie, he and his brother had never really gotten to sit down and catch up.

Tommy shakes his head, and Joel finds himself spilling the whole story to him, saving Ellie from a beating, putting her shoulder back in his socket. Tommy gets a laugh out of her following him around the QZ for months, at her whacking a man with a pipe to help him. It’s cathartic for him, sharing this with his brother, getting to relive those early days when things between him and Ellie were relatively simple. Him, a hardened asshole of a man who wanted to be left alone. Her, a smartass kid who just wanted someone to care about her. It had taken him less time than he was willing to admit for him to start, but once he had started he hadn't been able to stop.

“We were worried about her turnin’ still.” Joel runs his thumb over his lower lip, thinking about him and Tess back on that bridge in Boston. “Still couldn’t quite believe someone could be immune. And Tess said…” his inhale is unsteady. “Tess said that if Ellie did end up being infected, that she would be the one to kill her. She said she wouldn’t make me shoot my own kid.”

Tommy smiles, just a little. “Perceptive.”

“Yeah. It freaked me out, you know, to realize that Tess thought that. Kept havin' to tell her - and myself - that it wasn’t the case. Sarah was my kid, not Ellie. I couldn’t have another, because…”

“Because it meant it was someone else you could lose,” Tommy guesses, and Joel nods, his throat closing up. “When did you stop fightin’ that?”

Joel swallows the rest of his tea, buys himself a minute to think on it even though he knows the answer. “Here. After you and I talked and you told me I was foolin’ myself if I thought any different. Made it back to the house and Ellie and I got into a fight and that’s when I realized. And then after that it was easy as breathin’, thinkin' of her that way.”

“She’s been good for you.” Tommy’s eyes rake over Joel’s face. “Fuck, when you two first showed up here I thought I was seein’ a ghost. Not just because I’d assumed I’d never see you again when I left Boston, but because you looked and sounded more like you had Before. And Ellie did that.” He gestures towards the stairs.

“She did,” Joel acknowledges, standing with a sigh. His chair scrapes backwards loudly, and he pushes it against the table before walking over to the sink to rinse out his mug. “She saved my life in more ways than I can count. It’s what made me so goddamn selfish in that hospital, killin’ all those people just to save her. And it’s what’s made her hate me.” He turns back around to face Tommy. “It’s why I need to go do this. Please. Talk to Maria or whoever you have to talk to, and let me go do this. Me bein’ around Ellie is hurtin’ her, and this can make it stop for a little while.”

Tommy rubs a hand over his face, looking distinctly unhappy as he says, “Okay.”

–-

There’s another two weeks of planning before Joel can actually leave. He makes a couple trips out there to get an idea of the place and what he’ll need to bring with him, and he has to wait until they can get the electricity and water running there since he’s planning to stay.

Ellie doesn’t take the news of his planned trip, if it can be called that, well. She doesn’t take it badly either, she just…doesn’t react. Stares at him for a moment after he explains it to her and then turns and walks away. Joel hears her door slam, and he hangs his head.

Tommy watches the whole thing from the kitchen, his expression pitying in a way that has Joel fighting down the urge to punch his own brother in the face. He doesn’t want his pity - he just needs his brother to watch out for Ellie while he’s gone.

When the day comes for him to leave, Ellie is nowhere to be found, and Joel doesn’t bother trying to hunt her down for a goodbye. He leaves her a note on the kitchen table, asking her to listen to Maria and Tommy and telling her he’ll be back in a couple months.

At the bottom, he writes I’m sorry for everything and then scratches it out.

–-

He tells Tommy that in his closet there’s a box of things he’d found for Ellie, things he thought she would like. She’d told him to stop giving her stuff, so he had. But he’d still found things for her, traded for some of them, and kept them in his closet in case he ever got the chance to give them to her. A snowglobe with a silly elf inside, an agate rock pulled from the riverbed. Another sketchbook and set of charcoal.

“If somethin’ happens to me, make sure she gets them,” Joel says gruffly, ignoring the look Tommy’s giving him. “And this too.” He hands his brother a sealed envelope.

“Joel –”

“Please, Tommy, just take it.” Joel knows he’s probably being paranoid, but he’ll be outside the walls, alone. Patrol will come through regularly, he’ll have weapons. But if Infected or raiders show up, he’s on his own. Hell, if he cuts himself bad enough or falls and hurts himself doing the repairs, he’s pretty much fucked until someone comes through.

Reluctantly, Tommy takes the envelope, tucks it in his back pocket. “What is it?”

An apology. An explanation. Something tangible for her to hold on to in case I’m gone. A reminder that I only ever wanted the best for her, that what I did was done out of love, even if she hates me and thinks I’ve ruined her life.

“Just make sure she gets it if somethin’ happens to me.” He pulls his brother in for a quick hug, then hauls himself up on the saddle before Tommy can say anything else.

–-

The house comes with a calendar, hanging in the kitchen. It was the type that was completely blank and you filled in each month’s name and days yourself. Someone with neat handwriting had filled out the entirety of it, and on his first visit Tommy took his own pencil and marked out the days that had passed.

After Tommy leaves and Joel's alone, suffocating in the silence of one man in a large house, without his daughter, he rips the calendar from the wall and tosses it in the bin.

It’s wasteful, he knows. But he also really doesn’t want to know when September is. He’s not sure he can handle that, out here by himself.

–-

Joel gets the hang of living in the farmhouse, alone for the first time in decades. There’s plenty to do to keep him occupied, even if some of it has to wait for the days Tommy or another Jackson resident comes out and lends a pair of hands. Since there’s no animals yet but his horse, he sets up something like a workshop in the barn, keeping one stall clear for the horse at night and turning him out to the pasture during the day.

He fixes the front porch first, replacing the rotted boards and damaged railing with newer planks of wood. Does the steps too while he’s at it.

The staircase railing inside gets worked on when the weather makes working outdoors unpleasant or impossible. It had looked at first like maybe just a couple of the balusters would need replacing, but a gentle tug on one of them had practically taken the handrail off too, so the whole thing needed to go.

Then it’s the interior flooring, some light plumbing work in the kitchen. Couple of walls, some windows that need replacing, fresh coat of paint.

Every day there’s something to do that wears him out enough to fall into a near-dreamless sleep each night until he wakes with the sun the next morning. Tommy comes out once or twice a week when he can get away from his regular duties in Jackson, bringing supplies or food, and news.

It always starts with local gossip that Joel doesn’t really care for until he prods his brother for an update on Ellie. She still spends most of her free time in the stables, even though Tommy’s there - she just avoids him at all costs, communicating with him only through other people. She’s on greenhouse rotation right now and seems to be enjoying it, and Joel can picture her all too easily with her hands buried in dirt, streaks of it across her face. She refuses to go to school, but as a compromise with Maria she meets once or twice a week with Mrs Brady down the street, a nice older lady who was a professor Before and seems to be making sure Ellie gets some semblance of an education. Ellie’s even made a couple friends, it would seem, girls named Cat and Dina, a guy named Jesse.

It aches to know that Joel was right, that she’s doing better without him around, but at least she seems to be happier.

(Sometimes there’s a weird look in Tommy’s eyes when he talks about Ellie, like there’s something he’s not telling Joel. But he doesn’t press, knowing - hoping - that if it was anything really significant, his brother wouldn’t keep it from him.)

“Had a couple people ask me why you left Ellie behind,” Tommy says conversationally while they’re rebuilding the stalls in the barn. “Didn’t make sense to ‘em, a guy leavin’ his daughter behind to go stay half a mile outside the walls.”

Joel’s hand tightens around the hammer, more to keep him from tossing it across the barn than anything else. “What did you tell them?”

“That you wanted the work to get done as quick as possible and stayin’ here was the best way to do that. But you didn’t want Ellie outside the walls.”

“Makes sense,” Joel replies, setting the hammer down and taking a swig of water. It does make sense, to anyone who doesn’t really know Joel and Ellie. Maybe other parents in Jackson would be okay leaving their kids behind with family members for a couple months while they took care of things, but he wasn’t. If he thought Ellie could stand the sight of his face, Joel would be riding to and from the farmhouse every day so that he could be there for dinner with her.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Tommy tugs off his gloves, toying with them in his hands and not quite meeting Joel’s eye. “One lady asked if you were comin’ back anytime soon or if Ellie needed a new home to stay in. Said her and her husband would be more than happy to take her in.”

Joel’s hand freezes in the act of reaching for the hammer again, and he very carefully doesn’t look at his brother. “And you told her to go fuck herself, I assume.”

“Not in those exact words, no.” Tommy tosses the gloves onto the sawhorse, tucking his hands in his pockets. “But I told her Ellie would stay where she was, near her family. Even if I’m startin’ to wonder if that’s the best thing for her.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Joel demands, turning to Tommy.

“It means that while I want nothin’ more for you and Ellie to figure things out, if you can’t then you need to find a way to let her go.” Tommy sighs, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace at the murderous look Joel is giving him. “I don’t want that any more than you do. I know you love Ellie, I know she’s your kid. She’s my niece, I don’t want her goin’ to live with anyone else either. But you also have to do what’s best for her, even if it’s not what’s best for you.”

Joel doesn’t say anything, just pulls off his own gloves. He’s done working today, he can’t deal with this shit right now. More likely to hit his own hand with a hammer or otherwise hurt himself than be productive.

Tommy sighs again. “Fuck, Joel, I didn’t wanna say any of this. I hate puttin’ this shit in your head when you’re out here by yourself. Keeps me up at night, wonderin’...” he trails off.

“Wonderin’ if i’m gonna try to kill myself again,” Joel finishes flatly, gaze resting somewhere near Tommy’s boots.

“Yeah,” Tommy says heavily.

“I’m not.”

Tommy takes a step closer. “And if it turns out the best thing for Ellie is to let her go, and she’s not your kid anymore? What about then?”

“She’s always gonna be my kid, Tommy. Don’t matter if she’s livin’ with me or someone else, don’t matter if she never speaks a word to me again. She’s mine. Long as she’s still breathin’, I will be too.”

He strides away and leaves Tommy in the barn.

–-

There’s a room, right across the hall from the one he sleeps in, that would be perfect for Ellie. Opposite side of the house from the barn, just like she’d asked. Walls are a neutral color right now, but that could be changed. And that part of the house protrudes a bit from the rest like it was an add-on, so there’s a narrow space on one side where he could put in the skylight she’d wanted.

He doesn’t suggest any of these things to Tommy or anyone else who comes by to help, because this isn’t his home. It isn’t Ellie’s home. He doesn’t even know if they’ll ever even have a home together, and it wouldn’t do for him to fix it up for her when she’s probably never gonna see it.

It’s not a bad life, these months out working on the house and the property. Better than anything he could have possibly conceived of back in Boston. Joel tries to make the best of each day, productive and - for the first time in a long time - relatively glad to be alive. He even starts woodcarving again, something he’d barely started to pick up as a hobby before the outbreak, and soon he’s made a handful of rough figurines, sheep and horses and trees. Not the greatest, but he’s got plenty of time to practice. Plenty of time to work out how to make a giraffe, even if it’s just gonna collect dust in the box in his closet.

He’s doing okay out here alone, Joel tells himself. And it’s true, for the most part. There’s just one glaring problem, one giant hole in the middle of all of it.

Ellie’s not here with him.

And every day, while he’s toiling away, he misses his kid so bad he aches with it.

–-

He talks to Sarah sometimes, about anything and everything really. Probably would look and sound like a crazy person to anyone who stopped by and caught him unawares, but Joel can’t quite help the urge, especially when he sees a butterfly about.

Tells her about Tess, about life in Boston, about silly little things he sees around him throughout the day. Squirrels fighting, deer bounding through the field off behind the house that’ll eventually hold the sheep.

Mostly, he talks to her about Ellie.

“She asked me once if I thought you would like her,” Joel finds himself saying one day as he’s ripping some shingles off the roof, tossing them to the ground below. “Told her of course you would. And you would, sweetheart, I don't doubt it for a second. You two would gang up on me all the time, you’d be eggin’ her on when she starts in on me about bein’ old and my knees makin’ noise when I move.”

It’s a delusion he feeds himself on sometimes, the image of the three of them in the house back in Austin or here in Jackson. He knows that if Sarah was alive, she’d be twenty or so years older than Ellie, but he can’t picture her as an adult. In his head she’s still fourteen, just like her sister, and so they’re both teenagers, sitting at the dining table chewing with their mouths open while Tommy encourages them and Joel just rolls his eyes. God, and the cuss words Ellie would have taught Sarah, till both of them were swearing like sailors? Wouldn’t have been enough soap in the world to wash their mouths out.

Sarah had always wanted a little brother or sister, but after her mother left Joel hadn’t wanted to even try dating again, instead opting to put his energy into caring for his girl and working hard so that she could have a good life. He’d tried to make sure she hadn’t wanted for anything, but in the end Sarah had really just wanted more time from him, more attention. It's one of his biggest regrets, not spending more time with her when she asked for it. There would be another chance, Joel had always thought, another time to take her to the movies or the waterpark. And then there wasn't.

A sibling for her hadn’t even seemed like the remotest possibility to Joel until it had happened, twenty years too late for it to matter.

“You wouldn’t have had to worry about her stealing your clothes, that’s for damn sure.” He tosses the shingle in his hand down to the grass below, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. “She’s too goddamn small, for one thing. For another, she dresses more like me than you ever did. Hell, if anything I probably would’ve had to worry about her stealing my clothes once she got big enough.”

The ache of missing Sarah is different than the ache of missing Ellie. His oldest he’ll never see again, unless there’s some kind of afterlife and she’s waiting for him there. He likes to believe there is, and he hopes that Sarah won’t be too disgusted with the man he became after she was gone.

His youngest he’ll have to look in the face on a regular basis and know that he’s made her hate him.

Even with that, Joel can’t be sorry for saving her from the hospital. Ellie could go the entire rest of his life not speaking another word to him, and he still wouldn’t regret it in the slightest.

–-

There’s a knock on the door one day that Joel fully expects to be another person from Jackson - not Tommy, because he just lets himself in - here to help out with whatever it is Joel is working on that day. But it’s not.

It’s Maria.

He hasn’t seen her since his one trip back into Jackson after the baby had been born, an adorable squish of a boy they were calling TJ, though they seemed to disagree on what exactly those letter stood for. He hadn’t seen Ellie, but he’d held his new little nephew and battered down the jealousy and pain that came with remembering holding his own little baby.

TJ’s birth had brokered something like peace between he and Maria, and she had stopped looking at him with inherent mistrust every time he was around. They weren’t close - they might never be - but Tommy had made a joke about no longer needing to supervise their interactions, so it seemed like progress.

Warily, Joel gestures her in, following a couple steps behind as she wanders through the front of the house, looking over the repairs and changes he’s made. She doesn’t comment beyond the occasional hmm before moving into the dining room and seating herself at the table, waiting for him to join her.

Joel pours them each a glass of water before sitting across from her, watching and waiting for her to speak first.

Maria sips her water and sets it back down, glass held between her hands as she looks at him levelly.

“What’s the plan here, Joel?”

Nonplussed, he asks, “What do you mean?”

There’s no reaction from Maria beyond a tilt of her head. “How long are you going to hide out here and leave Ellie alone back in Jackson?”

Joel rubs his hand over his chin to buy himself a second to think. “How much did Tommy tell you?”

“Enough.”

“That’s not an answer,” Joel points out, and Maria nods.

“He told me about Ellie’s immunity, about how you two left to find the Fireflies to make a cure. How it turned out making that cure would have killed her, and you killed the Fireflies instead to prevent that.”

There’s no inflection to her voice when she speaks, no indication one way or the other whether Maria thinks he made the right choice. He tries to tell himself it doesn’t matter because he and his sister-in-law don’t exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things.

But she’s also an intelligent person, a logical person, and furthermore she’s in a pretty similar situation to Joel. Lost their firstborn, fortunate enough to have another kid when they’d probably never thought they would. He likes to think she would have made the same choice he did, but he also wouldn’t be surprised if she thinks it’s the wrong one just because it’s what Joel chose to do.

“I’ll be back before winter,” he says, glancing up at her. “Winter is…it’s gonna be hard for Ellie, we went through a lot last year after we left and even if she don’t want me there…I can’t leave her alone for it.”

“Okay.” Maria watches him, her gaze piercing. “And once you get through winter, then what?”

“I really hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Joel admits, leaning back in his chair. It’s a bit of a lie, considering he’d thought of it pretty regularly since his and Tommy’s conversation in the barn. “I’m hopin’ that the time without me around will have given her some space to think, and that maybe when I go back she’ll be willin’ to talk to me at least. But if she doesn’t…” he trails off, not really wanting to contemplate that all-too-likely possibility.

“If she doesn’t,” Maria replies, her tone gentle in a way Joel doesn’t like because it means she knows he won’t like whatever she’s about to say next, “then I think it’s time we consider somewhere else for her to live rather than with you. I’m not saying this to hurt you, Joel,” she adds when he flinches. “And I know Tommy mentioned it to you awhile back. But Ellie is suffering, both with and without you there –”

“Tommy said she’s been doin’ alright since I’ve left,” Joel interjects, frowning.

Maria hesitates. “She has days that are better than others, for sure. But she’s still very isolated, still clearly depressed and dealing with the trauma of what happened to y’all out there. And it is honestly hard for me to say if she’s dealing with it better with you there or not.”

Joel scrubs his hands over his face. “Jesus.” He’s not fully surprised Tommy has been misleading him, though he’s not quite sure why.

“I know you want what’s best for her,” Maria continues, “and I know you consider her your own. Tommy and I do too, for what it’s worth. We’ve been trying to encourage her to talk to the counselor at the school, the closest thing to a psychologist we have in Jackson. She’s gone once or twice I think, but not enough for it to have made a difference yet. But if you come back and nothing changes, we really have to think about the next steps for her.”

“Yeah, I know.” Joel sighs, staring down at his hands. For all the time he’s spent laying awake worrying about it, he still can’t fathom Ellie living somewhere else, with someone else. After all that time together on the road, the times they’d talked about coming back to Jackson and making a home here…it was hard to wrap his mind around it ending like this. Him and his kid separate.

But he also doesn’t see how things can keep on the way they have been, Ellie miserable as she is and bound to collapse in on herself one day. If her living elsewhere would keep that from happening, Joel’s not gonna stop it.

There’s another idea he has, one that’s been poking at him since before he left for the farmhouse. He’d discarded it for the time being, hoping things between him and Ellie would heal enough that it wouldn’t be needed, but the way things are going…

“There’s a garage on the property of my house.” It feels weird, calling it that when he hasn’t lived there in a few months. “What if I fixed it up to be livable for her? Proper insulation, plumbing, all that. Do you think that would be a good solution?” He raises his eyes to Maria’s, knowing he must look almost desperate at this point. “She’d be near enough to me and y’all for us to keep an eye on her, but she’d be on her own. I think she’d prefer that over livin’ with strangers.”

Maria looks at him contemplatively. “It’s not a bad idea, actually. Why don’t we see how things go between the two of you when you come back, and then we’ll suggest it to her?”

Joel just nods, not really able to speak at the moment.

“We’ll figure it out,” Maria says, her hand coming forward to press on his wrist gently. “One way or another.”

He nods again, choking out a thanks before downing the rest of his water.

Maria shrugs it off, offering him the closest thing to a smile he’s ever been on the receiving end of from her. “It’s what family’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Joel offers back his own pathetic attempt at a smile. “Yeah, it is.”

They sit together in silence for a long moment, before Joel decides that since she came all this way the least he can do is attempt a conversation with her that’s not about him.

“How’s my nephew doin’?”

–-

Tommy brings him a guitar a few months - he thinks - into his tenure in the farmhouse. Hard to keep track of time when you’ve thrown out the calendar, but the air had turned crisper, the leaves were browning. Fall was pretty much upon them, Joel guessed, and then promptly put it out of his mind. Fall meant September, and he’d be perfectly fine with waking up one day and finding out it was the middle of October.

Someone had found the guitar on patrol, Tommy says, and it’s in pretty decent shape overall. A few nicks and dings here and there, probably gonna need some new strings before long. But for having existed in an apocalyptic world, it’s really not too bad.

Joel wraps one hand around the neck of it, strums experimentally with the other. Doesn’t sound half bad either, just needs a bit of tuning. Silently he messes with it, turning the pegs and plucking at some of the chords. It has to be done by ear since there’s no way to check anymore, but after a few minutes he’s able to pluck out the opening chords of “Sweet Home Alabama”, which makes Tommy chuckle. It sounds rough, barely recognizable, and the movements feel clumsy under his fingertips, but it seems like with a bit of practice he’ll be playing again like he used to.

He thinks about how he’d offered to teach Ellie to play, how she’d agreed and had even seemed a little excited about it, definitely more excited than she had been about learning to swim.

Suddenly the guitar weighs a ton in his hands, an anchor dragging him down with the weight of his choices, the consequences of his actions.

“Thanks,” Joel tells Tommy gruffly, resting the guitar against the side of the couch. If he holds it any longer he’s gonna break it, smash it to pieces against the wall.

“How are you doin’?” Tommy asks, his eyes tracking Joel carefully.

He stares at his brother for a moment, trying to decide if now is the time to bring up what Maria had told him, the ways Ellie was still struggling that Tommy had left out of their conversations.

“I’m fine.”

–-

Joel wakes up to snow one morning and panics.

The first snowfall since they’d made it back to Jackson, and Ellie is there alone.

Fuck.

He scrambles out of bed, yanking on the first shirt he sees and practically sprinting down the stairs to get his boots on. He’d thought he had more time, a couple more weeks at least before the first snow. There had been an overnight freeze recently but that was it and then the weather had stayed chilly but not cold. Tommy had assured him that Ellie had made it through the freeze just fine, and Joel had already been gathering some of his things in preparation for returning to Jackson in the coming days.

He was supposed to have more time.

Joel’s barely stepped out onto the porch, squinting in the light reflecting off the snow, when he makes out the figure in the distance walking towards him.

Ellie, bundled up, beanie on her head, backpack over her shoulder.

What the fuck?

Joel’s glued to the porch as he watches her walk closer and closer, her eyes focused on the ground ahead of her. She doesn’t even seem to realize he’s standing there until she’s up the steps and her blank gaze lands on him. There’s a flicker in her eyes, there and gone before Joel can put a name to it.

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t indicate one way or the other if she’s happy to see him or what she’s doing there. She just takes another step forward and, hand shaking slightly, reaches for the hem of his shirt.

Joel’s confused until she tugs it up enough to see his scar from last winter, and he jumps a little when she presses cold fingertips to it.

Her hand falls back to her side, his shirt dropping and Ellie just sort of nods, her jaw clenching and unclenching. Then she walks past him into the house, still silent as the grave.

It takes a second before Joel can gather himself enough to follow her in, completely thrown by her arrival and more than a little concerned.

She’s dropped her backpack on the couch, shoes by the door, beanie on the side table in the hallway. Her jacket is draped over the banister, and Joel picks it up and folds it over his arm before walking slowly up the stairs.

All the doors are open, even for the rooms he doesn’t use, as though Ellie’s gone through and poked around, before finding his room. By the time Joel makes it there himself, Ellie’s curled up on his bed, wrapped in the flannel he’d left draped over his chair last night. Asleep.

He tries to stay quiet as he walks into the room, leaving her folded up jacket on the chair. It’s cooler up here and Ellie hadn’t gotten under the covers, so he grabs the other edge of it and tucks it around her carefully, making her into a little burrito almost.

The thought makes him smile for the first time in months.

The circles under her eyes would indicate she hasn’t been sleeping well for some time, so Joel leaves her there and heads downstairs again. Makes his coffee, puts his jacket on, and heads out to the front porch to wait in the cold.

He’s just swallowed the last bit of it when Tommy comes galloping up, his face taut. He’s barely pulled the horse to a stop before he’s dismounting.

“Ellie –”

Joel cuts him off. “She’s here. Asleep upstairs.” Tommy slumps in relief, and Joel runs a hand over his face, scratching at his beard. “You said she was doing okay, Tommy.”

“I thought she was.”

“Then why is she walking a half-mile through the snow looking like she hasn’t slept in weeks?” His voice raises at the end of the question, and Tommy holds his hands up.

“Look, I could tell she wasn’t sleepin’ but she wouldn’t let me do anything about it. Me and Maria both tried stayin’ at your house with her, more than once. Tried havin’ her stay with us but she refused.” Tommy paces away and then back again. “We did the best we could to look after her, but she didn’t want our help and it was all we could do to make sure she was eating each day. She didn’t miss her rotations, didn’t get into fights, didn’t do anything. She’s been like a ghost since you left.”

Joel’s hand balls into a fist, the urge to slam it into the porch post nearly overwhelming. “Why didn’t you fuckin’ tell me that?”

“Would it have changed a thing for you?” Tommy shoots back. “Made you come back to Jackson? Or would you still be on your ‘space away from me is what’s best for her’ bullshit?”

“It doesn’t matter. You should’ve told me.”

“Yeah, maybe I should’ve. But I didn’t, and she’s here now, which is probably for the best even if she had to walk through the snow to get here.” Tommy glances at the door and then back at Joel. “Maybe you two can sort your shit out now, unless your plan is to just bundle her back to Jackson at the first opportunity.”

“No, I…I don’t know what we’ll do.” Joel looks back over his shoulder. “Could be she wakes up and remembers she hates me and goes back on her own.”

“Joel…” Tommy runs a hand over the top of his head and grabs the back of his neck. “Ellie’s hurtin’, a lot, over a lot of things, most of which I don’t know about. But I don’t think she’s ever really hated you.”

“Tommy –”

“No, hear me out. I think she’s been so angry at you she doesn’t know what to do with it. And I think she’s been angry at the world for the way things worked out, the positions you both have been put in. She definitely feels like you betrayed her, but do you really think she would have been this goddamn upset about it if she didn’t love you?”

Joel wants to believe his brother, he really does. God it would be so nice to hope that there’s a chance for him and Ellie to reconcile, but at the same time he’s afraid to hang onto that. Afraid to let himself think there’s a possibility for them to be anything like they once were, because if he gets hopeful about it only for Ellie to remain irrevocably set against him…

He’s really not sure he could take that.

–-

Ellie doesn’t speak much the first week or two she’s with him, other than yes or no answers.

Do you want us to go back to Jackson? No.

Are you warm enough? Yeah.

Ready for bed? No.

She follows him around silently more often than not, helping him with random tasks around the farm - clearing snow from the porch, hauling wood for the fireplace - but when she doesn’t feel up to it she sits inside and sketches in the sketchbook Tommy had brought her on one visit, one Joel is pretty sure had been in the Ellie box in his closet.

It’s entirely too like the days and weeks right after Silver Lake, and it’s everything Joel was afraid would happen when the temperature dropped.

Joel wakes up before her almost every day even when he goes to sleep long after her. He tucks her in securely from where she’s slept next to him - ostensibly the room across from his is hers, but she has yet to use it - and goes downstairs to make coffee for him and breakfast for her.

Every morning when she wakes up, she trudges downstairs, tugs the hem of his shirt until he pulls it up for her to inspect his scar, and then sits quietly at the dining table until he joins her. The shadows under her eyes are less prominent, her cheekbones less hollow. But she’s still quiet, such an opposite of the girl he met in the QZ over a year ago that it makes an ache lodge in his ribs, stronger and more pressing every day that she doesn’t utter more than a handful of words.

Unlike the times she’d been quiet back in Jackson, there’s no hostility radiating off Ellie when she’s near him, no anger shining out of her face when she looks at him. There’s contemplation, there’s something like calm, there’s a blankness more than Joel would like. She’s quiet, but the painful edge to it seems to be gone. The silence is…companionable, almost, even though Joel hates it.

The first time she touches him voluntarily, other than to check his scar, Joel flinches, more startled than anything. They’d already been touchy before Silver Lake, practically glued together after, but his actions had damaged things enough between them that she’d stopped touching him altogether when they had returned to Jackson.

Ellie backs away from where she had leaned on him, a wounded expression flashing over her face before it’s blank again, and instinctively, Joel reaches out to her.

“Come here, baby girl.”

Ellie hesitates, and then leans into him again, letting him wrap an arm around her shoulders for a moment before he has to let go to finish cooking her eggs.

This time, when she sits at the table, she takes the seat next to him instead of across, hooking a socked foot over the rung at the bottom of the chair as if to keep him from moving away.

–-

The touches return, the physical affection they’d grown so accustomed to. Ellie curls up next to him on the couch, holds on to his wrist walking around the farm, leans into him when she’s sitting behind him on the horse. He holds an arm around her shoulders, drops kisses to the top of her head, tugs gently on her ponytail. After the first baby girl seemed acceptable, Joel returns to frequent use of it and other soft names, Ellie almost always responding with a small smile.

Her words don’t return though, and every day that passes with a silent Ellie, Joel tries harder and harder not to panic.

–-

“Why did you do it?”

The sound of Ellie’s voice - hoarse after over a month of minimal use - startles Joel so much he sloshes coffee on himself, cursing at the burn.

Ellie waits while he blots the stain on his shirt, wipes up the floor, just watching him steadily the entire time. When he’s done, she repeats, “Why did you do it?”

Joel puts a hand on the back of the chair he normally sits in, waits for Ellie to nod before he pulls it out and drops into it. There’s a lot of answers he could give her, all of them true. They didn’t know for sure it would have worked or they didn’t even try anything else or they didn’t even give you a say in it or even if they’d done it, it wouldn’t have been enough to save the world.

But none of them are the right answer, the one he knows she needs to hear.

“Because I’m selfish.”

Ellie’s expression doesn’t change, and she just waits.

Joel’s thought a million times about what he would say if she ever gave him the chance to explain, but now he can’t remember a single word of it, even though it feels like his entire relationship with his kid hinges on this conversation.

“I, uh…” Joel clears his throat. “Marlene told me that they could make a cure but that it would mean your death, and all I could think was that I couldn’t lose you. You’re my kid, and they were gonna take you away from me, so I…I stopped them. I knew what it would mean, for the world and for you, but all I could think of was what it would mean for me. And what it meant for me was buryin’ a second child, and I just…I couldn’t do it.” He takes a shaky breath, blinking rapidly. “And they didn’t ask me, although I guess why would they. They didn’t even ask you. They were just gonna kill you without givin’ you a choice, without…without lettin’ me say good-bye.”

Ellie still has a carefully blank expression on her face, and Joel hates how she’s gotten so good at hiding her emotions from him when she used to be an open book.

“If they had let you,” she begins slowly, watching him carefully while her thumb digs at a groove on the kitchen table he hasn’t sanded away yet, “if they had said ‘hey Joel, we’re gonna cut out Ellie’s brain to make a cure that we know will work, here’s your chance to say good-bye to her before we do.’ Would it have changed anything for you?”

“No.” The answer is soft but immediate. “No, it wouldn’t have.”

“What about if they had told me, given me the choice, and I agreed to do it?”

It’s so tempting to stare at his hands, to look away from her, but if Ellie can make it through this conversation looking him in the eye, the least he can do is the same.

“I don’t know,” Joel says honestly. “I wish I could say, yeah I would’ve respected your wishes, I would’ve let it happen. I like to think I would’ve. But it’s like I said - I’m selfish.” Joel lifts a shoulder. “Your life means more to me than anything else, entire world included, and that’s not gonna change. I’d rather you be alive and hatin’ me, than…well, you know.”

“I don’t hate you,” Ellie says softly, and Joel feels the press of a weight lift from his chest.

She curls up on the chair, arms wrapped around her shins and chin on her knees. “Tommy asked me one time, what I would have done. If our roles had been reversed, if it had been you that could have made the cure, if I would have let them kill you to do it.” She tilts her head, her eyes slightly glassy. “And I don’t think I could have lived with myself if I hadn’t tried to save you too.”

Joel thinks he might owe his brother a beer, or whatever passes for one in Jackson.

Cautiously, he puts his hand out on the table, palm up, an invitation for her if she chooses.

Ellie looks at him for a moment, clearly mulling something over, before she reaches forward and takes it.

“I am sorry,” Joel says softly, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles, “that I wasn’t able to give you a choice. And I am sorry that I tried to lie to you about what happened. But I will never be sorry for doin’ whatever it took to keep you alive. Given the chance, I’d do it all over again.”

There’s a long moment where Ellie just looks at him quietly. He doesn’t know what she’s trying to do - find a lie, find the truth, make up her mind - so he just sits and waits while she thinks.

“Okay.”

There’s something blooming in his chest that feels cautiously like hope, but Joel doesn’t feed it yet, waiting for Ellie to say something else. She stays quiet, so Joel prompts her, “Okay?”

“Okay,” she repeats. “I still hate what you did, and I don’t know if I can forgive you for it. I had this...this one thing that was supposed to make my life matter, and you got in the way of that, you took it from me.” Joel flinches even though her voice is quiet, her tone calm. “But nobody has ever cared about me like you have. Nobody has ever made me feel important to them like you have, nobody has ever made me part of their family. And I don’t…I don’t think I’m willing to give that up.” A tear slips down her cheek and she swipes at it with the back of her free hand. “So…okay.”

Joel takes what feels like his first real breath since picking Ellie up off that hospital bed.

“Okay.”

–-

Tommy comes by a couple days later, ostensibly to bring some food and extra lumber for the fence, but Joel knows what he’s really doing. Checking up on the two of them, just like he has every week since Ellie first walked herself over. He’s been worried about Ellie just like Joel has, both from noticing how silent she’s been during the winter, and from having seen her in Jackson in the weeks after Joel left.

Unlike previous times though, Ellie’s not curled up quietly in the chair by herself or trailing along silently after Joel.

They’re on the couch together, Ellie’s toes tucked under Joel’s thigh, and she’s reading to him from a pun book borrowed from Jackson’s small library.

“I want to be cremated, as it is my last chance for a smokin’ hot body.” Ellie giggles delightedly.

“Negative one thousand out of ten,” Joel says, so focused on trying to pull the book away from her and save himself further torture that he misses Tommy coming in until his brother speaks.

“I don’t know, I thought it was at least an eight.”

Ellie crows triumphantly, and Joel levels a glare at Tommy. “Don’t fuckin’ encourage her, you’re not the one havin’ to hear these atrocities on a daily basis.”

“Not our fault you’ve got a shit sense of humor, man.” Tommy winks at Ellie and she gives him finger guns in return.

“See Joel, Tommy and I can’t both be wrong.”

He makes another grab for the book but she swats his hand away. “You can and you are.”

Ellie tucks the book behind her back, out of Joel’s reach, but he gives her a look that says he’s not above physically hauling her out of the way if necessary.

“Whatcha doin' here?” She asks in a poor imitation of their accents, attempting to redirect Joel’s attention. He rolls his eyes but allows it, sitting back and wrapping a hand loosely around one of her ankles.

“Brought y’all some veggies from the greenhouse,” he holds up the container in his hands, “and wanted to let y’all know that you’ll start seein’ some people out here more frequently over the next couple weeks. They’ll be checkin’ around to figure out the best places for the wall expansion, start gettin’ an idea of measurements and whatnot.”

Joel frowns slightly. “Bit early, isn’t it? Ground’s too hard right now to do much.”

“Yeah, but if they can get all their dimensions squared away by the time it all thaws, then building the walls themselves can get started almost immediately when the snow melts.” Tommy glances at Ellie and then back at Joel. “Don’t be surprised if they come to ask about usin’ your bathroom or want your input on things. Plus, lotta the guys who haven’t been here to help with the construction are curious about what you’ve done with the place.”

Joel lets his gaze wander around past Tommy, trying to see the living room through fresh eyes after living here for several months.

The floors are solid, mostly clean since someone doesn’t always take her shoes off by the door like she oughta. He’d put up some shelves as well, and those had slowly filled in his time here, especially since Ellie had shown up. She’d found some old, slightly bent horseshoes out in the barn that were of no use to the horse, so she’d nailed them up on the wall by the front door. Ellie had finally shown him some of her sketches and let him make frames for them. One of Shimmer on the shelves, another of the mountains on the fireplace mantel.

The two of them sitting on a porch swing, framed and sitting on the table near the couch. She’d drawn it after he left, apparently, and after seeing it he’d been seized with the desire to build a swing like that. Make the picture come to life for them.

“Yeah, I reckon I’ve done a pretty decent job with it,” Joel says slowly, gaze moving to the part of the kitchen he can see through the doorway. His mug, waiting next to the can of coffee for tomorrow morning. Ellie’s dinosaur mug brought from their house in Jackson, waiting for the tea she’s taken to drinking since she still thinks coffee is the nastiest fucking thing, Joel, how do you drink that.

Tommy nods. “Whoever ends up stuck out here with the sheep will be lucky to call this place home.”

Ellie stiffens next to him, but when Joel looks over at her she’s pulled the pun book out again and is looking through it, jaw clenched. When she realizes she’s being stared at, she looks up at him and offers him a tight smile that does nothing to ease the worry rooting itself in his chest.

Tommy stays with them through lunch and then heads back to Jackson with a promise to return in a couple days. Joel walks him out to the porch and is surprised - pleasantly so - when Tommy pulls him into a tight hug.

“What was that for?” Joel asks when they’ve separated, and Tommy just shrugs.

“Felt like the thing to do.”

–-

Ellie’s on the quieter side the rest of the day, which still isn’t unusual for her, but when she doesn’t offer up any commentary during what’s probably their fourth rewatch of A New Hope - brought to them by Tommy a few weeks back - is when he really starts to get worried.

“You alright?” He murmurs, daring to interrupt the Millennium Falcon’s escape from Tatooine.

Ellie lifts her head from where it had been resting on his shoulder so she can better look at him. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” The smile she gives him isn’t really reassuring, but he decides to let it go for now. They’re better at talking about things now, and if she decides she needs to tell him what’s bothering her, she will. He just has to wait it out.

–-

Joel ends up not having to wait very long - just until they’re getting ready to go to sleep the next night. Ellie’s tried sleeping in her own room a couple times now, but every time she’s still wound up curling up next to him some hours later. Tonight she hadn’t even bothered, just trudged silently into her room to grab her pillow and extra blanket and then headed into his room.

“Hey Joel?”

“Yeah?”

Ellie fidgets next to him. “What’s going to happen with this house?”

His brow furrows and he looks over at her, barely making out her outline in the dim moonlight filtering in. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Ellie rolls onto her side, hands tucked beneath her cheek, “Tommy made it sound like you and I were gonna go back to the house in Jackson at some point, and like someone else was gonna come live here. Is that…are we going back?”

“I don’t know,” Joel replies slowly. “I mean, me comin’ to fix the house was only supposed to be temporary, and it’s almost done. So it makes sense that we would go back. And then I guess whoever gets put in charge of the sheep, however they decide to handle that, they’ll stay here.”

“Oh.” Ellie’s voice is small.

“Why?”

“I guess…” He feels her move and immediately reaches across to snag her hand from where it had been on her way to her mouth. It’s a miracle she has any nails ever, the way she chews on them. “I don’t know, I guess I just thought we would stay here. It’s nice and it feels like home, and you said you wanted a sheep ranch.” She tugs her hand away and rolls onto her back. “It’s dumb though, forget about it.”

Joel sits up and reaches over to flip on the lamp, blinking a little in the brightness. “It’s not dumb, Ellie.” Her eyes are focused on the ceiling. “Do you want us to stay here?”

She chews her lip. “Would you rather go back to the other house?”

“I asked you first,” he points out, hoping it doesn’t sound as immature as it feels. Ellie doesn’t answer. “This is the kind of decision that requires your input.”

“Oh sure, this one is,” Ellie mutters, and then immediately clamps her mouth shut. She looks over at him nervously and whispers, “Sorry.”

Joel just lays back down so he’s staring at the ceiling alongside her. “‘S alright.”

It’s not, actually, it kind of fucking hurts. It’s not the first time Ellie’s made a comment like that and he knows it won’t be the last. And she always apologizes after, but her words still sometimes lurk in the back of his head.

I still hate what you did, and I don’t know if I can forgive you for it.

She’s trying, Joel knows that. And he deserves her resentment. But he tries not to dwell on those words too often, because they make all of this feel like a fragile bubble, ready and able to burst at any moment.

So he doesn’t get mad, when she says things like that. He tries to let it slide off his back, tries not to let the words burrow too far under his skin.

“Do you wanna stay here, in this house? Have us be the ones takin’ care of the sheep?” Joel asks quietly, still looking at the ceiling. He’s very familiar with it, counted every crack and bump there is on his more sleepless nights.

“I could give or take the sheep, really, but I know that’s your dream.” Ellie nudges him playfully with her sharp little elbow. “But yeah, I would wanna stay here. This is a good house and it’s…it’s home. That other house wasn’t. There’s just…shitty memories there.”

Joel thinks back, remembers their one night in Jackson before heading to Boulder where they’d had that fight. And then after they’d come back they hadn’t even been on speaking terms and the house had been more like a tomb, smothering them in resentment and unfixable choices.

“I’ll talk to Tommy about it,” Joel says decisively. “I don’t know what’s been discussed back in Jackson, so I don’t know if they’ve already decided that someone else is gonna live here and handle the sheep.” He turns his head on his pillow so he’s looking at Ellie. “There’s a chance they still ask us to move back into town. But if they do, we can try to find a new house, or I can gut the other one and we can fix it up. Make some better memories.”

Ellie turns her head so she’s looking at him too. “Yeah, okay. That sounds good.”

“Good.” He leans over first to kiss her forehead, and then the other way to turn the lamp back off. “Now go to sleep, and this time keep your cold toes on your side of the bed.”

Naturally, Ellie presses them right against his calf in retaliation.

–-

Tommy comes back four days later, right after Joel’s finished giving Ellie her first guitar lesson. She’d seemed more interested in watching him play and forcing him to sing for her, but after some time she’d held the instrument herself, messed around with strumming on it. He’ll have to see about getting - or making - a second guitar at some point. It’ll be easier to teach her if they’re each holding one instead of passing it back and forth.

He leaves Ellie to strum experimentally on it and leads Tommy into the kitchen.

“What’s up?” Tommy asks, looking more than a little concerned.

“Well,” Joel tucks his hands in his pockets and glances over his shoulder towards where Ellie sits in the living room, still messing with the guitar. “We wanted to know if anything has been decided about who’s gonna live here and handle the sheep. Because we’d like to stay here, if that’s possible.”

Tommy just grins at him for a long, long moment. “Maria’ll be so glad I saved her a trip out here, she was actually gonna come in a couple days and ask y’all if you wanted to stay here.”

“Wait really?” Ellie pipes up from behind them, standing and leaving the guitar on the couch. “We get to stay here?”

“Well considerin’ how much work Joel’s put into the place,” Tommy cranes his head back, taking in the new framing around the entrance to the kitchen, “it seemed only right that y’all get first dibs on it. Didn’t know if you wanted to have to take care of the sheep, but seems like you won’t mind.”

“Are you kidding?” Ellie snorts, kicking a leg out at Joel’s ankle. “Joel’s always wanted to be a sheep rancher.”

Tommy arches a brow. “That so?”

“Christ.” Joel rolls his eyes. “Y’all two, always with the damn gangin’ up on me. I said one time back when Ellie and I were on the road that I wouldn’t mind a sheep ranch, and now she’s actin’ like it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do with my life.”

“Course we gang up on you, big brother.” Tommy claps a hand on Joel’s shoulder, shaking it lightly. “I’m always gonna take my niece’s side, you know that. Someone’s gotta keep you in line, and I think me and Ellie can handle it.”

“Gonna drive me to an early grave, is what you’re gonna do,” Joel mutters, but he can’t help smiling, just a bit.

–-

The rest of their stuff migrates over in fits and starts. Tommy brings some, Maria brings some. Joel and Ellie make a couple trips over themselves, but it doesn’t take long. They hadn’t really accumulated much in their few months in the house, and they’d already brought plenty over with them.

He’s not sure who brought over the box from his closet, the one with the little things he’d accumulated to give to Ellie. He thinks it might’ve been Tommy, but he never bothers to ask and find out. But because it had her name on the top, it wound up in her room instead of his, something he’s only made aware of when she comes stomping down the stairs and thrusts a piece of paper in his face.

“What the fuck is this?” Ellie waves it and yanks it back before he can really see it. “What the fuck is this, Joel?”

“I –”

She stomps away, paper held in her hand. “I'll always be with you? You deserve the best possible life? What the fuck, is this some kind of goodbye letter? Are you fucking dying or something?”

“No –” Joel tries, but Ellie’s still pacing.

“Are you gonna keel over on me one day soon, and this is how I find out?”

“Ellie!” He hates raising his voice at her, but it startles her into stopping, and he approaches carefully, until he can get close enough to pull the paper from her hands. “It’s not a goodbye letter, exactly.”

Ellie crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “What the fuck is it then?”

“Look,” Joel sighs, guiding her over to the couch, “I wrote it when I was comin’ out here and you were stayin’ in Jackson. I gave it to Tommy, and he was supposed to give it to you if somethin’ happened to me while I was out here. Stayin’ outside the walls alone is risky.”

She uncrosses her arms. “So you’re not gonna like…die tomorrow or something, right? You’re healthy?”

“Far as I know.”

“Good.” Ellie snatches the paper back out of his hands and goes back upstairs, leaving him to sit there alone, flabbergasted.

–-

True to Tommy’s words, they start seeing more people from Jackson out in their area. Most of the time they mark off sections themselves, get whatever measurements they’re gonna get, and then head back. Couple of them come over to see the house and barn, check out the renovations Joel’s done.

Ellie hides out in his room when it gets to be too many people, too many men that she doesn’t know, and her retreating up there is usually his indication to start kicking people out.

It'll be nice to have the walls up though, and hopefully they'll start construction on them as soon as the ground thaws. It'll be a couple months yet, but, Joel thinks as he takes in the increased armed presence out in the field, the wait will be worth the safety they'll have. They've been pretty damn lucky so far, no stray Infected, no raiders or hunters. It's likely the cold, Tommy told him one morning when they were walking around the area. Over the years, they've noticed less issues as the temperature drops, higher rate of Infected as it warms.

Either way, it'll be nice to be locked away from the outside again, as soon as possible.

–-

They go back into Jackson to celebrate Thanksgiving with Tommy and Maria and TJ, eating till they’re all stuffed beyond reason and him and Tommy entertaining the others with dumbass stories from their holidays growing up. It devolves rapidly into a contest of who can embarrass the other more.

(It's not even close, since Joel has never once tried climbing to the roof of a two story house from the ground, wearing only a Metallica shirt that was two sizes too large.)

They go back in December as well for Christmas. Ellie falls asleep against him on the couch on Christmas Eve, and he accepts his sister-in-law’s offer for the two of them to stay over rather than try to wake Ellie up enough to ride the horse back home. Fortunately, in a Miller family tradition, they’d brought their pajamas over anyways to wear for dinner and games afterward.

(Ellie did, in fact, kick his ass at Boggle.)

Ellie’s got her PJs on when she falls asleep, so he just has to lift her up and carry her upstairs to the extra room Maria and Tommy have while they get TJ settled in his crib.

He has to take a breath, after he’s laid her down and tucked the blanket around her, kneeling next to the bed with his forehead on the mattress. All of it was too familiar, the weight of his daughter in his arms, carrying her up to bed, wrapping her blanket around her and watching her sleep.

Fuck, he misses Sarah so much right now. She’d loved Christmas, not just for the presents but because it was one of two guaranteed days a year she had her dad and uncle’s undivided attention. In the weeks leading up she’d be making him bake cookies for them to decorate and leave for “Santa”, and she took her tree trimming incredibly seriously. Joel never really bothered to decorate the outside of the house, but Sarah had handled the inside, strung lights in her window and sworn up and down that when she had her own house she was gonna have a ton of inflatables in the yard, lights all over the house, a huge tree in the living room window.

If it was possible, he’d do all those things now in her memory.

He leaves Ellie there, curled up under the blanket, with a kiss on her forehead. Tommy and Maria are still with TJ, so Joel heads back downstairs and shoves his feet into his boots, pulls his jacket on, and goes out onto the front porch.

There’s only one light on this end of the street, so Joel turns his back to it and cranes his neck back to the sky, eyes tracing the stars and breath crystallizing in front of him.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispers, blinking back tears. “I really miss you.”

A star above him seems to flicker, and Joel tells himself - in a fit of sentimentality he hadn't experienced in years but had been happening with increasing frequency - that it's Sarah, wishing him a Merry Christmas in turn.

Tommy steps out onto the porch, closing the door softly behind him and handing Joel a glass of whiskey. They clink them and sip, and Tommy angles his head back the same way Joel had.

“You alright?” He asks quietly, even though they both know the answer.

Joel shakes his head. “It was a good night, it’s just…” his throat dries up, his voice cracking. “Y’know.”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighs. “Yeah I do.” He’d been almost like another father to Sarah after all, watching her when Joel had to work, picking her up from school, kissing her boo-boos better. They’d gone through the panic of her first period together, Tommy reassuring Joel when he felt like a failure because Sarah hadn’t had a woman in her life to turn to with these kinds of things.

“She’d be happy for you,” Tommy says unexpectedly, voice gentle and eyes still on the stars. “You and Ellie. She’d be happy that y’all have each other.”

Joel nods, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. “Yeah, I…I know.” He laughs a little, the sound choked. “She always wanted a sibling.” It’s an echo of his own thoughts from months ago, but the first time he’s said them out loud.

“She did,” Tommy agrees. “But mostly I think she’d be happy that you’re happy, that you’re doin’ okay.”

“She’d be happy for you too.” Joel gestures toward the front door. “With your wife and baby. She’d get a kick out of it but she’d be happy as hell for you.”

Tommy nods, takes a swallow of the whiskey.

They stand in silence, both of them watching the sky.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

“Merry Christmas, Tommy.”

–-

Joel gets woken up a couple hours later by a small body squirming onto the couch next to him.

“Scoot over,” Ellie mutters blearily, yanking the blanket away from him.

Joel grumbles but moves, thankful that his brother’s couch is deep enough to accommodate the two of them if they squish a little. Ellie tucks herself under his arm, head resting on his shoulder, and she drops back off to sleep almost immediately.

Joel wraps his arm around her shoulders and lets his cheek rest on top of her head. It’s not long before he’s out again too.

–-

Tommy gives him a knowing look the next morning when he hands him his coffee, coffee Joel can’t really drink at the moment owing to the teenager drooling on his chest. The arm she’s laying on has gone numb too.

The smell of coffee wakes her up though, her nose wrinkling before her eyes even open.

“Joel, get your nasty bean shit away from me.”

“Get off my couch then,” he replies blandly.

“Fuck off,” she mumbles in turn, right before rolling herself off the couch and onto the floor with a thud. “Ow.”

“You alright?” Joel peers down at her where she’s rubbing her shoulder, legs still tangled in the blanket she stole from him. The blood flow is returning to his arm, leaving it feeling marginally less like limp spaghetti.

“Fine.” Ellie lifts her head and shoots a glare at Tommy, who is supporting himself against the doorway while laughing so hard he’s not making a noise. “Y’all are assholes.”

“Oh,” Tommy wipes tears from his eyes, ignoring the perplexed look on his wife’s face as she walks in carrying the baby, “that was the best possible way to start today, thank you so much darlin’.”

“Assholes,” Ellie mutters again, disentangling herself and walking over to take TJ from Maria. “I’m just gonna hang out with you, dude. Your dad sucks and your uncle isn’t much better.” She totes him down the hall, still muttering invectives against Joel and Tommy.

Neither of them can help laughing again.

–-

Ellie gives him a sketch she’s done of him playing the guitar and - after some clear apprehension - one she’s done of Sarah that she based off a picture Tommy had. He’d promptly started crying, which had understandably freaked Ellie out, but he’d loved it and as soon as he’d been able to get himself together it had been framed and sitting on the mantel. He moves the drawing of him and Ellie on the swing he hasn’t built yet to sit next to it.

His own gift for her feels inadequate in comparison, a wood carving of a giraffe as long as her forearm. He has a stegosaurus in progress as well but hadn’t been able to finish it before Christmas.

Ellie runs her fingers over it reverently, turning it this way and that to see all the details Joel had managed, from its horns and ears all the way down to the individual spots and little hooves.

Then she’d flung her arms around his neck - nearly wedging the giraffe into his ear in the process - and muttered a quiet thank you.

The next time he was in her room, dropping off clean laundry that may or may not have included two of his flannels he pretends not to notice she’s swiped, Joel sees it in pride of place on her shelves, dead center and keeping company with her favorite Savage Starlight issue.

–-

Ellie drags him out onto the roof New Years’ Eve to watch the stars until midnight. It’s cold as fuck, and he manages to keep her from going up there until twenty minutes to midnight. They’re both bundled up and he’d hauled blankets and pillows up there earlier in the day. They’ve got hot water bottles ready to go, and finally he follows her out there, watching her carefully with his arms outstretched as she climbs out of the spare room window and onto the flattest part of the roof.

“Put a skylight in my room, she says,” Joel grumbles as he follows her, cold air stinging his face. “That way I can see the stars from inside, she says. And yet here we are, outside in the damn freezin’ cold despite the perfectly good skylight in your room.”

(It had been the second part of his Christmas present to her, installed with the help of Tommy and Rafe, who used to be a custom home builder for rich people Before. Maria had kept Ellie occupied for the two days it took, and Joel had made sure to keep her out of her room until it was done, which hadn’t been hard at all considering she still slept next to Joel at night and her belongings were scattered all over the house.

She’d gone speechless when he and Tommy guided her into the room with a hand over her eyes, uncovering them and telling her to look up. The extended period of silence had lasted long enough for him and his brother to exchange a concerned look, before she’d finally torn her eyes away long enough to launch herself at him with a hug that nearly strangled him. Tommy had gotten a hug too, if shorter and less exuberant, but before he’d left she’d called him “Uncle Tommy” for the first time.

Tommy had denied tearing up when Joel teased him, but there had definitely been moisture leaking from his eyes as he’d left.)

“Shut up, man,” Ellie said, tugging their thickest blanket over her lap and laying back on the slight incline. “After this, I’ll use my skylight. But it’s New Years! Wasn’t that like a big holiday Before or something?”

Joel situates himself next to her, knowing his back is gonna hate him for this before long. “Kinda. People used it as a chance to reset their lives, set goals for the year. Usually was like losin’ weight or eatin’ better or quittin’ their bad habits.”

Ellie furrows her brow. “Why not just do that whenever they felt like it?”

“Don’t ask me.”

He passes her a hot water bottle and she tucks it under the blanket against her stomach, eyes focused on the sky.

It’s a pretty damn good view, Joel has to admit, trying to get as comfortable as one possibly can on a freezing rooftop. There’s no light pollution out here, so there’s more stars in the sky than Joel has ever seen before.

Ellie lifts her arm and starts tracing lines in the sky, pointing out constellations that he has no hope of seeing. Her list of them seems to be endless, and Joel is content to just lay there and listen to her. His kid is pretty damn smart, Joel thinks with no small amount of pride.

She trails off eventually, a couple minutes before midnight, leaning over so her head rests on his shoulder.

“How much time?”

Joel tugs out the watch Tommy had loaned him from where it had been in his pocket. “Bout five minutes, looks like.”

Ellie nods, sucks in a deep breath. “Before this year ends, can I tell you something? So that we can start the New Year with a clean slate or reset or whatever you were talking about before.”

Joel frowns, not sure what she means. “Of course.”

Another deep breath. “When you first came out here and I stayed back in Jackson…it really hurt. Like, because you left me there.”

It’s his turn to suck in a breath, the cold air burning his throat and lungs. “Ellie –”

“I get why you did it,” she hurries on. “Because shit was really bad and I was mad at you and we weren’t talking and…it was bad. And I talked to Tommy about it once. Well,” she amends with a small smile, “he talked at me about it. He said that you came here because you thought being around was bad for me, like hurting me or whatever the fuck he said. So I know you did it with good intentions and to take care of me or what the hell ever you were thinking. But the thing is…the thing is.” She stops for a second, and Joel reaches under the blanket to find her hand and squeeze.

“The thing is,” Ellie tries again, sniffling a little. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about has died, or left me. Everyone except you, up until that point.”

Fuck, if that isn’t just a knife right into his heart, and he can’t find the words to say anything before she’s continuing.

“So when you did leave me, even if you only meant it to be temporary, it just…it hurt a lot.”

Joel checks the watch again - two minutes.

“I’m really sorry,” he murmurs, squeezing her hand again. “I thought it was what was best for you, given the circumstances. I didn’t - I guess I didn’t think of it as leavin’ you, because I always planned to come back. But I did leave, and I…I’m sorry.”

Ellie nods, looking up at the sky for a second before back at him. “Just don’t ever do it again. Or I’ll kick your old ass straight back into the prehistoric age you came from.”

Joel snorts a little. “Deal.”

“How much time?”

“Less than a minute.” He props the watch up on his knees so they can both watch the second hand tick around.

“Anything you wanna get off your chest?” Ellie asks, a shiver rolling through her. Seriously, as soon as it’s midnight he’s taking her back inside. Nothing like starting the New Year with the flu or hypothermia.

“Nope.” It ticks down to twenty seconds. “People used to do a big countdown for the last ten seconds.”

“Why?”

Joel shrugs, watching the second pass by. “Tradition.”

Ellie hums, and once it gets to ten seconds she starts counting under her breath. Joel smiles faintly and then counts along with her.

“Four…three…two…one.”

Ellie looks up at the sky like she expects something to have changed. “Huh. For some reason I thought it would feel different, starting a New Year here instead of in Boston or wherever the hell we were last year. But it just kinda feels the same.”

“Yeah.” He tucks the watch back in his pocket. “That’s how it was for me every year really. But Happy New Year, Ellie.”

Ellie smiles up at him, bumping her shoulder into his. “Happy New Year, Joel.”

Joel lifts his arm and drapes it over her shoulder, tugging her against him. His hot water bottle has lost almost all warmth, and he assumes hers has too. They really need to go back inside, but there’s just one more thing he needs to do to start the New Year off right.

A kiss to the crown of her head, covered by her beanie, and a murmured “Love you, baby girl.”

Ellie goes stiff against him for a second before she turns her head into his chest. Her words are muffled, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear them.

“Love you too, old man.”

It’s the first time, Joel thinks as they bundle up their blankets and crawl back in through the window, that he’s felt like he understands the New Year reset mentality. It feels a lot like he and Ellie have left a lot of shit back in the previous year, and they’re starting this year in a much better place than last year, with something resembling a fresh slate.

Then Ellie digs her icicle toes into his ankle and it feels - in the best way possible - like nothing has changed at all.

Chapter Text

The first time Ellie calls him dad, she’s just shy of sixteen and being a smartass about her vegetables. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still suck the air from his lungs and close his throat in shock.

She’s rolling her eyes, trying - failing - to keep sneaking her cauliflower onto his plate.

“Ellie.”

She makes a frustrated noise as she scoops it back onto her plate. “Alright alright, I’ll eat the fucking cauliflower, keep your pants on dad.”

Ellie seems to realize what she’s said a split second too late, her jaw dropping open. Across from her Tommy has gone still, and Maria is pointedly focused on feeding TJ his own vegetables.

Joel - thankfully - recovers first, sucking in a quick breath. Thank God they’d decided to do family dinner at the farmhouse tonight and not the dining hall. “You don’t have to eat the fucking cauliflower, baby girl, but don’t come cryin’ to me in a couple years when you’re still shorter than a Smurf.”

Just for that, Ellie pointedly lifts her plate up and scrapes all her cauliflower onto his, stabbing her fork into his roasted potatoes when she’s done.

She doesn’t say another word for the entire rest of the meal though.

–-

It’s not like Joel doesn’t see himself that way - it’s not like the entire town doesn’t see him that way in relation to Ellie. Tommy’s always been pretty free with the my niece title to just about anyone who will listen, and Joel’s almost entirely sure he’s the only damn one in Jackson that knows Ellie’s last name is actually Williams and not Miller.

(He never corrects anyone on that bit.)

But still…he’d never expected her to say it.

And maybe he’s reading too much into it, Joel thinks absently, scrubbing at the dishes while the others hang out in the living room. She was just making a joke because he was doing a dad-type thing by harassing her about her food. It doesn’t mean that –

“Here.” Ellie’s at his elbow, handing him the last of the plates from dessert.

“Thanks,” Joel says distractedly, taking them from her and adding them to the stack in the sink. Ellie doesn’t leave to rejoin the others though, and after a second Joel turns to find her watching him anxiously, chewing her lip.

“Look, about what I said earlier,” she begins, her voice determined but her eyes worried.

Joel forestalls whatever she was gonna say - it honestly might break his heart if she tried to take it back - by draping one arm over her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She leans against him easily as she always does, and he kisses the crown of her head too while he’s at it.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says gently.

Ellie pulls back and stares at him intensely, frown lines etched in her forehead. She looks very much like she wants to worry about it, like she has more to say, but they’re spared that conversation for the moment by TJ toddling in on his little legs and holding up his arms for Ellie to pick him up. His cousin is his favorite person, after all.

Ellie bends down and scoops him up, bouncing him a little on their way back into the living room.

Neither of them brings it up again.

–-

Joel notices Ellie being a little more free with the title after that though. Not always to him - never to him, actually - but in the months that follow he catches enough snippets of things like I have to ask my dad and yeah my dad’s the one that fixed up our farmhouse so we could move the sheep out here to know that the slip at dinner wasn’t a one-time thing. That maybe she's been thinking it for awhile.

Tommy catches on to it too, and he starts using it more readily as well, like he’s testing the waters. Ellie’s dad this and Ellie’s dad that. He starts to hear it more from Tommy than his actual name.

(It doesn’t ever make Joel’s eyes well up. Not even once.)

There’s one time she says it and knows he hears it - thanks but I’m gonna sit with my dad and aunt and uncle at dinner - and Ellie just stares at him when she realizes, defiance and anxiety warring across her face.

Joel had just dropped an arm across her shoulders in a way that used to embarrass Sarah in front of her friends and said easily, “You know you don’t always have to sit with us. You can join your friends if you like.” Ellie’s face had eased with each word he’d said, and Joel had added, “They’re probably better company than some old men and a baby anyways.”

(He doesn’t include Maria in the unfun group because he values his life.)

She had elbowed him and then gone to sit with her friends, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she went.

–-

There’s still plenty of days - though they get fewer and farther between - where all their old shit comes back to haunt them. Where Ellie can’t look him in the face, let alone refer to him as her dad, because someone got bit on patrol and he knows the only thing she can think is that their death - their families’ grief - could have been prevented by hers.

He doesn’t approach her when those things happen - he’d tried it before and it had ended with her shouting that she hated him loud enough to make him glad they didn’t live in town anymore, sure it would have been audible to the entire street. Joel had known - hoped - at the time that she hadn’t meant it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t awfully painful to hear. Didn’t mean it didn’t terrify him down to his core that all their progress since the hospital was about to be undone and he was once again gonna have a kid who couldn’t stand the sight of him, wouldn’t speak to him.

(She had apologized three days later, and they’d never spoken of it again.)

The more they settle in, the less those days happen, fortunately. Joel would never say it to her, but every time she sassed him across the dinner table, every time she toted her cousin around on her back, every time she laughed herself into tears at one of her fucking awful puns…

It all reinforced the fact that Joel had made the exact right decision in saving her at the expense of a cure.

(He never doubts it, not even when Ellie says she hates him. But it’s nice to see for himself that she is getting the exact type of life he’d wanted her to have when he lifted her from that table.)

–-

Joel had missed her fifteenth birthday, owing to the fact that they hadn’t exactly been speaking when it had passed, but he hadn’t forgotten about the museum he’d found on patrol one day. He’d told Maria about it, she’d said they’d put together a slightly larger group to go clear it completely, and he hadn’t had the heart to follow up.

But it lingered there, in the back of his mind.

When there’s not a trace of snow to be found and flowers are starting to bloom along the path they take in and out of Jackson, Joel asks Maria about it again.

“The museum?” Maria’s brow furrows a little as she thinks, patting TJ on the back where he rests against her shoulder. “Yes, it was fully cleared about a week or two after you told me about it. I don’t know that anyone’s been there since though.”

“I’d like to take Ellie out there for her sixteenth birthday in a couple weeks,” Joel says, and Maria smiles.

“Let’s send another group through there to be sure nothing has come up since the last time,” she replies, “but I think she’ll love it.”

Joel chuckles, relief washing through him. “Yeah it’ll be a bitch to keep her from climbin’ on the statues and breakin’ her neck, but I knew she’d love it when I first saw it.”

Maria wipes up the drool dribbling down TJ’s chin, dodging his chubby little fist. “Yeah and how lucky can you get, a museum with Ellie’s two favorite things in it?” At his furrowed brow, she continues, “Dinosaurs and space?”

“There’s a space exhibit?” He asks. Holy shit, if there is then he’s really about to be the coolest fucking parent on the planet.

Maria smiles knowingly, passing TJ to him when the baby leans out of her arms and reaches for his uncle. Joel takes him willingly, knowing in a minute he’ll be reaching for Maria again. Being passed back and forth between various adults and Ellie is currently his favorite game, replacing last month’s endless rounds of peekaboo. “There is, on the floor up from the dinosaurs. Lots of stuff on planets and space travel, if I was told correctly.”

TJ reaches for his mom again, and Joel passes him back. “Let me know when you’re sending people to clear it again, I’d like to go with ‘em. Wanna get a better idea of how big the place is and how best to get there.”

Maria indicates with her head for him to follow her to the dining room table, where she has a map of the area laid out like usual. TJ reaches for him again and gets handed back, one tiny fist landing in Joel’s beard as he makes a delighted noise at the success of his little game. Maria traces along the edge of the map until her fingertips land on the museum, marked off with black marker.

“Looks like the fastest way is to go up here, cross the river here,” she taps a finger, “and then hike a little further. Not a bad walk.”

“No,” Joel agrees, looking over the path she’s marked out. “But I’ll need to check and see how deep the river is there. Haven’t had a chance to teach Ellie to swim yet, and even if I manage it before takin’ her, I don’t know how comfortable she’ll be in the water by then.”

“Well,” Maria takes TJ back when he leans precariously in Joel’s arms, little arms outstretched, “there’s also this route.” She traces a slightly longer path that circumvents the river. “A decent hike, but no swimming required. Could probably take a horse if you prefer.”

“I’ll check both and we’ll see. Thanks, Maria.” He bumps his knuckle against TJ’s tiny fist when his nephew aims his arms in his direction again and gets a displeased whine in response, clearly not understanding why his uncle won't hold him again.

Maria offers him a smile in reply and waves her son’s little arm for him as a goodbye.

–-

The river was a bit too deep for him to feel comfortable getting Ellie in when he’ll probably only be able to give her one or two swimming lessons before they go. Not to mention the parts where they’d have to hold their breath and be fully submerged to get under or around things.

The longer route it’ll have to be. He’s not too disappointed by it though, because he was already thinking of turning it into an overnight camping trip and now he has even better reason to do so.

Ellie doesn’t grumble - too much - when he wakes her up early the morning after her birthday. They’d had a celebratory dinner at the house the night before that had gone later than it probably should have, until the birthday girl herself had dozed off on the couch with her head on Joel’s thigh. He’d warned her a few days before that they’d be getting up early, so he can tell she's trying to keep the crankiness to a minimum with the promise of a good surprise.

There’s still some disgruntled muttering as they make the walk from the house into town and then to the stables, where Tommy’s waiting with a horse saddled and ready for them. Joel’s own horse had thrown a shoe two days before so they were having to borrow one in the meantime.

“You coming too?” Ellie asks around a yawn as she mounts Kennedy behind Joel.

Tommy shakes his head. “Nah, this is a father-daughter birthday excursion for the two of y’all. I’m not needed.”

Joel reaches back and pats Ellie’s knee when she leans against him, arms squeezing his torso lightly at Tommy’s words. “We’ll see you when we get back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Ellie asks, confusion audible in her voice. She strains forward a little so her chin is resting on Joel’s shoulder, eyes wide and curious.

“Tomorrow,” Joel confirms, nudging Kennedy with his heels.

“Have fun and be safe,” Tommy calls from behind them, heading back into the stables to finish his morning tasks.

“So do I get to know what we’re doing?” Ellie asks when the gates have closed behind them. “Or do I just have to wait?”

“Just gotta wait, baby girl.”

“Just gotta wait, baby girl,” Ellie mimics, deepening her voice in a poor imitation of his.

Joel snorts. “It’ll be worth it, don’t worry. And it’s somethin’ that you’ll wanna be fully surprised about, trust me.”

Ellie wiggles a little, adjusting her seat. “If you say so, old man.”

–-

They leave the horse where they’re gonna be camping for the night, about a mile’s hike from the museum, and the entire walk from there Joel fends off Ellie’s increasingly ridiculous guesses as to what it could be. She gets pretty damn close with some of them - he’s glad to have his back turned when she guesses a dinosaur - but some of them are just utterly ridiculous, and he knows Ellie knows that. A sneaker collection, honestly?

It’s absolutely fucking worth it though when he gets to see Ellie’s wide eyes and she shouts “Oh my god, it is a dinosaur!”

He gets practically tackled with the force of her hug before she’s off, running around the T-rex in knee-deep water she barely seems to notice. She of course repays his amazing birthday surprise by launching herself into the air from its head and about giving him a damn heart attack where he stands. The air doesn’t return to his lungs until she resurfaces, laughing.

“Girl, you have not had enough swimming lessons to be pullin’ that kind of shit,” Joel grumbles good-naturedly, extending an arm as she paddles towards him. “Bring you out here for your birthday and you’re tryin’ to kill yourself jumpin’ off a damn statue before you can even see the good stuff inside.”

Ellie reaches out and grabs his hand, letting him pull her up onto the rocks, brushing water droplets from her arms. “Yeah, but you’re here and you wouldn’t let anything happen to me.” She smiles at him beatifically. “You’d jump in and save me.”

He softens, just a little, brushing a hand over the top of her head and wiping it on his pants when it comes away wet. “Yeah, I would.” When Ellie just bats her eyelashes at him, Joel rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t give you free license to just go nuts doin’ shit like that though.”

Ellie rolls her eyes too, but it’s playful. “Yeah, yeah, safety first. Are we gonna go in or not?”

Joel gestures for her to lead the way. “Go on then.”

He follows her around the museum, letting her talk his ear off with dinosaur facts and even wearing the dumbass hat she finds him. “Better not be bugs in it,” he mutters to himself, taking it off for a quick inspection when she isn’t looking.

The peak of it all though, is the space capsule in the middle of the second floor. Joel is so damn glad Maria mentioned it and that he made a second trip out here to check for himself, because while that alone would have been an amazing surprise in and of itself…

There’s nothing that could have topped the look on Ellie’s face when she realized what was on the cassette he’d handed her. He watches her listen to the Apollo countdown, absorbs the absolute delight on her face, and sends up a silent thanks to Maria and another to Cassie at the library in Jackson. Joel owes her more than he can ever repay for finding the recording, for helping him duplicate it, for making this moment possible for his kid.

“I do okay?” Joel asks quietly when she looks back over at him, pretty sure of the answer but wanting to hear it regardless. He needs a little reassurance with his parenting sometimes, sue him.

Ellie’s face is indescribable, overwritten with a deep-rooted type of joy he hasn’t seen from her in…he doesn’t even know how long. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

They climb out of the capsule and Joel hands her the pin he’d found on his last trip out here. “Welcome back to Earth.”

Ellie takes it from his hand like she thinks it might break, staring at it in awe. For the first time since he’s known her, Joel thinks Ellie might actually be speechless in the best possible way.

Carefully, Ellie attaches the pin to her backpack, rotating it slightly until it’s just right, and then she gently sets her bag down and leans forward to wrap her arms around his torso, squeezing for all she’s worth. Over a year of steady meals and helping out at the ranch has made her strong, in a wiry way, and Joel’s actually impressed at the way she manages to force the air from his lungs.

“This has been,” Ellie says slowly, her words mumbled into his shoulder, “the best fucking day of my life.” She squeezes him carefully but doesn’t let go yet, and Joel rests his cheek on top of her head.

“I’m very glad to hear it, baby girl.” One of his hands comes up to cup the back of her neck. “Can’t promise I’ll be able to match this next year for your birthday, but I’ll try.”

Ellie just shakes her head against him, still not pulling away. “I don’t care. I don’t care if we never celebrate my birthday ever again, this one was perfect.”

A final squeeze and then she lets go, bending to pick up her bag and sling it over her shoulder again. She walks off without another word and Joel trails after her, utterly fine with following her around to her heart’s content.

–-

Everything had been going a little too well lately, so of course a month after the museum trip, Joel comes home to find Ellie passed out in the bathroom with her arm covered in drain cleaner.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he says, heart in his throat. He practically drags Ellie out of her bathroom while holding his breath, picking her up and carrying her to his room. He has to leave her propped against his tub with water cascading over her arm while he dashes around to open windows and run the water in the other tub, the fumes already making him lightheaded. How goddamn long has she been unconscious, breathing that in?

A cry of pain has him running back to Ellie immediately, and he finds her cradling her arm, tears streaking down her face.

“Shh, baby, you’re alright.” Joel guides her arm back under the water, tightening his grip when she tries to pull away. “I know, sweetheart, I know. But we gotta flush all the cleaner off. Just a couple more minutes, alright? Just a couple more minutes.”

Ellie’s chest is heaving as she tries to catch her breath, and Joel rocks her back and forth gently, keeping her arm under the flow of water. “Are you mad?” She hiccups.

Joel reaches up and wipes away a stray tear from her cheek, kissing her temple. “Not yet.” He will be, he can tell. Once he knows she’s gonna be alright and he figures out why she’s maiming herself, he’s gonna be madder than he’s ever been in his goddamn life.

Ellie hiccups again, squirming slightly, but she doesn’t say anything else.

Joel counts to thirty and then shuts off the water, helping Ellie up and guiding her to sit on the toilet lid. Their first aid kit is in the downstairs bathroom, so he has to leave her alone for a moment while he goes to get it.

The fumes have already dissipated, so Joel closes some of the windows while he’s at it and picks up the bottle on the floor of Ellie’s bathroom. It’s empty, and Joel tries desperately not to think of how it had been half full before.

Ellie hasn’t moved by the time he’s come back up the stairs with the first aid kit - and fuck, he’s so glad he made a stop at the clinic last week to refill it - her gaze unfocused on the ground in front of her. Her arm, cradled against her chest, is a mess of blisters and raw skin.

She looks up at him when he walks in and sets the kit on the counter, but she still doesn’t say anything.

Carefully, knees cracking, Joel crouches in front of her, ignoring her arm for a second in favor of letting his gaze trace over her face. She’s splotchy and red, clearly from crying, but otherwise looks alright.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, brushing a tear from her chin.

She nods, lower lip trembling slightly, and then adds, “Hurts.”

“I bet it does. Let me see it.” Joel holds out his hand and waits till Ellie extends her arm toward him, a pained hiss escaping her lips when he touches her wrist and gently rotates it to get a better look at the damage.

“I’m gonna put some ointment on it,” Joel says gently, standing and reaching for the kit, “and then wrap it. And then we’re going to the clinic.”

“Do we have to?” Her voice comes out as a bit of a whine, and it pricks at Joel’s anger just a bit.

“Yes, Ellie, we have to.” He rests her arm on the sink and washes his hands before he opens the tin of burn salve, a mixture of aloe vera and other things Billie at the apothecary had listed off that he hadn’t bothered to remember. “Not only did you burn the absolute shit out of your arm with drain cleaner, you were also passed the fuck out when I found you.” His voice raises at the end, and Joel has to take a deep breath before he can scoop some of the salve onto his fingertips.

He’s as gentle as he can possibly be, but Ellie still makes a pained noise as he rubs it on. “You’re mad now,” she says in a small voice, and Joel takes another deep breath. He doesn’t want to be mad, he really doesn’t, but what the fuck else did she expect after something like this?

Joel wraps the gauze loosely around her arm, opting to tuck it in on one end rather than waste tape when it’s gonna get peeled off soon. “I am so mad I can barely see straight, and you scared me out of my goddamn mind. We’re going to the clinic.”

Ellie doesn’t argue with him about it again, following him quietly out of the house and to the barn, mounting carefully behind him. She doesn’t say a word on the ride into town, keeping her arm carefully off to the side and resting her cheek against his shoulder.

“You alright?” Joel asks her quietly when they drop the horse off at the stables. Ellie doesn’t meet his gaze, but she nods, and she loops her good arm through his when he offers it.

Tommy comes jogging over as they’re crossing the road, his brow furrowed. “Didn’t know y’all were comin’ into town today, everything alright?”

Ellie ducks her head and doesn’t answer, but Tommy’s eyes have already landed on her bandaged arm and gone wide. "What the hell -”

“Ellie got a burn,” Joel says quietly, mindful of the other people walking by. “So we’re just gonna take her to the clinic to get it looked at and then head back home.”

Tommy’s gaze flicks between Ellie’s arm and Joel’s face a couple times before he nods tightly, clearly sensing there’s more to the story but knowing he’s not gonna hear it now. “Just let me know if y’all need anything.” He reaches up and tugs on Ellie’s ponytail gently. “Take care of yourself, darlin’.”

Ellie nods and murmurs, “Thanks, Uncle Tommy.”

Joel wishes he could give his brother a moment to enjoy that more - Ellie uses the title infrequently, the same way she only sparingly calls him Dad - but he wants her checked out already so they can get back home and he can yell at her till his lungs burst.

The nurse at the clinic is a nice lady named Mackenzie, not at all put off by Ellie’s silence or Joel’s hovering. She tells both of them everything she’s gonna do before she does it, and her hands are gentle and steady as she unwinds the bandage.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Mackenzie asks, her tone soft and her question directed at Ellie.

She glances at Joel before answering, “I was trying to unclog the drain at home, and the cleaner made me lightheaded. And then I passed out and when I woke up…” She trails off.

Joel knows she’s lying, but he doesn’t call her out on it and neither does the nurse. “I got home and found her unconscious,” he adds, squeezing Ellie’s other hand when her chin droops slightly. “I put some of the burn ointment on it and wrapped it, but I wanted to bring her here because I don’t know how long she was passed out for, and the bathroom doesn’t have good ventilation.” His throat closes a bit and he has to clear it.

Add Ellie slumped unconscious over the bathtub to images that will haunt his nightmares.

“Well,” Mackenzie says, turning Ellie’s arm carefully to better examine it, “it looks to me like a pretty nasty chemical burn, but once it heals there shouldn’t be any lasting damage from it aside from possibly some nerves. Nothing that’ll cause chronic pain, just some occasional discomfort, weird tingles here and there. I’ll send you home with more bandaging and ointment, and the main thing will be to keep it clean and loosely wrapped. It’ll start to peel, which might itch, but do your best not to scratch it or mess with it other than to wash it. If it starts to hurt severely, or you feel anything weird, come back here so we can take another look at it, alright?”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief, then steps aside so she can do a quick check of Ellie’s pupils and reactions. Once Ellie is pronounced healthy - minus the arm - Mackenzie rewraps her arm and then lets them leave.

They pick up their horse from the stables with a quick wave to Tommy - who Joel fully expects to show up at the ranch later demanding a full explanation - and once they’re out of town and on the narrow path that leads back to their house, Ellie asks nervously, “So how mad are you?”

Joel sighs. “Less mad than worried, baby. And just glad that you’re okay.”

She squeezes his torso with her good arm. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t think it would be so bad, or that I would pass out.”

“Yeah, I knew that drain clog story was a load of shit,” Joel sighs, guiding their horse into the barn and waiting for Ellie to dismount.

Ellie’s silent as he untacks Ike and brushes him down, waiting on a bale of hay near the door. Whenever he glances over to see if she’s still there, Joel finds her studying her arm, finger tracing the edge of the bandages.

They go back up to the house, and Joel sets their new first aid supplies on the dining table before pouring them each a glass of water. What he wouldn’t give for some of Tommy’s whiskey right now.

“Talk to me, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up at him from her spot on the couch and waits till he’s lowered himself to sit across from her on the coffee table.

“I was in town the other day,” she says hesitantly, rotating her glass between her palms, “and my arm itched. I went to pull up my sleeve to scratch it, and there was a moment where someone could have seen my bites.” The air seems to freeze in Joel’s lungs. “There was nobody around me,” she adds, her tone weary, “but I’ve just gotten so used to being out here with just you and not having to worry about it much, and…” Her teeth grind together and she sets the glass down hard enough for water to slop over the rim. “Fuck, I’m just tired of looking at them, okay?”

“Ellie –”

“They’re just always there!” Ellie talks over him, standing up and pacing away towards the kitchen. “I have to see them all the fucking time, this reminder that I’m fucking immune but there’s not gonna be a cure. This reminder of the people I couldn’t help, this reminder of what you did.”

Joel’s gaze drops to his hands. Is there ever gonna be a day where it doesn’t sit between them, the choices he made to keep her alive? How much, he wonders, does she still resent him for it, for all that she seems to have moved past it?

“Plus,” Ellie goes on, her voice a little unsteady, “we both know what would happen if somebody saw my arm.”

Yeah, they do. And it’s all too easy for Joel to imagine Ellie just like Sarah was, bleeding from a bullet wound and dying in his arms.

It goes without saying aloud that he wouldn’t survive it.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about this?” He asks finally, looking back up at her.

“What would you have done?” Her tone is challenging.

“I don’t…” Joel feels helpless, useless. What would he have done? “I don’t know. But it wouldn’t have involved the risk you took today.”

“Maybe I should’ve thought about the ventilation,” Ellie hedges. “But the end result was what I wanted. The scars are gone.”

“You’ve got new scars,” Joel points out, and the look she sends his way tells him just how fucking dumb she thinks he is right now.

“They’re not bites,” she replies with the tone of an adult speaking to a toddler. “So they’re not gonna get me shot on sight.”

Joel can’t help the way his hands clench at her casual words, at the image they shove to the front of his mind.

He can’t deny the relief he feels when he thinks about the now slim-to-gone chance that it’ll actually become reality. He’s certainly not gonna say anything about it to her , not gonna give her further reason to validate the dangerous-ass stunt she’s pulled.

But, fuck, it is nice to not have to worry quite so much about that.

“I still wish you would have talked to me,” Joel finally says, and Ellie walks back over to sit on the couch across from him. “I don’t know what I would’ve done, but I want you to always be able to talk to me.”

“I know I can, but I…I just didn’t think you’d understand with this. And now it’s done, so…” she shrugs.

He could very easily wring her neck right now for being so goddamn cavalier about all this, for taking such a risk with her own health and safety.

Joel indicates her wrapped arm with a tilt of his head. “Soon as that comes off and we don’t have to worry about infection, you’ve got three months of the early chores. Feeding, cleaning the barn, putting the sheep out. All of it.”

“Three months?” Ellie looks at him like he just told her the moon was made of cheese. “Fucking seriously?”

“Fucking seriously,” he repeats firmly, glaring at her. “You endangered your fuckin’ life, Ellie. You fucked around with chemicals and burned yourself, and you took five years off my life. I came home and found you unconscious.” Ellie ducks her head slightly, and Joel reaches forward to nudge her chin up. “Look at me. Three months of early chores after your arm has healed is you gettin’ off light. So I suggest you not bitch about it before I make it worse.”

He can see it in her eyes, the way she wants so badly to argue with him about her punishment, but whatever’s on his face must dissuade her because instead she just clenches her jaw and nods.

Good thing too, because he was fully prepared to make it six months instead.

–-

Joel spends more time managing the sheep than anything else. He’d done a fair amount of patrolling in the first two years, but a bad throw from Ike had left him with some damaged nerves and pain in his low back that flared up if he was in the saddle for more than an hour or two at a time. He’d been willing to keep patrolling, but Maria had pulled rank after pushing himself too hard had left him bed-ridden for two days, and now he only does the shortest runs for foraging and hunting.

Despite the fact that they now live on the outskirts of Jackson, he still picks up plenty of work repairing others’ homes and building furniture. His woodcarving has improved a shit-ton, to the point that he starts getting requests here and there for custom pieces. He’s happy to do them, especially in the weeks he spends recovering from being thrown from his horse. Ellie’d practically had to sit on him to keep him from getting up and moving around more than he’s supposed to, but he hadn’t wanted to leave her to manage the sheep and everything by herself. Tommy had come to help, along with others from Jackson who were happy to pitch in a bit, and Ellie had graciously allowed him to sit on the front porch while they worked.

It became a routine for two or so months, Ellie waking him up and bringing him his coffee - all the while protesting the smell of it - and supervising the stretches the nurse at the clinic had told him to do.

(“Don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter,” Joel had grumbled on the third day of this, supporting himself with the end of the bed while bending carefully at the hips.

Ellie had just sat there cross-legged and sipped her tea, watching him calmly. “Let’s not pretend like you would be doing your exercises if I wasn’t here to make sure you did them, you grouchy old fuck.”

He’d flipped her off as he straightened.)

Then she’d leave him to change, which he could fortunately still manage on his own, and then help him down the stairs - meaning she walked ahead of him with her arms outstretched, like she’d actually be able to catch him if he fell instead of just being squished. Once he was seated on the porch she’d go back in and lug out the little workstation her and Tommy had fashioned for him. Table, blocks of wood, his whittling knives, whatever he was currently working on.

He’d pass most of the day there, carving away and keeping an eye on Ellie and whoever was helping her out that day from a distance. Periodically he’d stand and pace the length of the porch to keep the blood flowing in his legs and work out any stiffness.

It was the first time Joel had ever really felt his age, felt like the almost 60 year old man he actually was.

It was pretty damn awful.

He might have snapped at Ellie accidentally one time, when she kept poking at him for having a back injury like an old person would, and had immediately regretted it. Ellie, being the grudge-holder and master at the silent treatment that she was, hadn’t said a word to him for a week and a half after.

Still brought him his coffee and made sure he did his physical therapy though.

–-

Joel’s first clue that Ellie is up to something is when the stallion carving he’d finished disappears from his table three days after he declared it done. She’d asked while he was working on it if it was a custom piece or just a random one he’d decided to make, and when he’d said random she had nodded and that had been the end of it.

But now Joel’s looking at his work table and noticing that not only is the stallion missing, but the octopus is too.

“Ellie?” He calls, and in a minute she’s up the stairs and poking her head in the room.

“Yeah?”

“Did you take some of the carvings?”

She steps over the threshold, leaning back against the doorframe. “Yeah, I traded them for a couple things.”

“What things?”

“Can’t tell,” Ellie replies primly, crossing her arms when he arches a brow at her. “Working on something and you don’t get to know what it is till it’s done.”

“Why couldn’t you trade some of your art or somethin’, why’d you have to go thievin’ my shit?”

Ellie snorts. “Thievin’,” she mutters in her typically bad imitation of his accent. “Christ, man, why can’t you just say stealing like a normal person.”

“Because I enjoy bein’ made fun of by my daughter,” Joel replies dryly, and Ellie ducks her head, a pleased smile on her face. It still hasn’t quite gotten old for either of them, the use of dad and daughter when referring to each other, and Joel doesn’t think it really ever will. Not for him, at least.

“I thieved your shit,” she says after clearing her throat, “because the person I was trading with happens to really like your work for some reason, and they didn’t have a Joel Miller original yet. So I gave them those two.”

“Hmm.” Joel studies her speculatively for a moment, but Ellie just looks back at him blandly, an angelic smile on her face he doesn’t buy for a second. “Ask next time, alright?”

“Okeydokey!” And then she’s out the door, and he can hear her thundering down the stairs.

–-

His next indication is that Ellie tells him he has to go stay with Tommy and Maria for a week or so, while she stays at the farmhouse by herself.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Joel says immediately.

“Come on,” Ellie pleads, following him from the living room into the kitchen. “Just for a week or so. Maybe less!”

He deposits their water glasses in the sink and turns back to look at her. “Not unless you tell me why.”

Ellie hesitates, chewing her lower lip. “I can’t.”

“Then I can’t leave you here unsupervised for a week,” he says with a shrug.

“Please.” She draws out the middle of the word for a solid five seconds. “Pretty please?”

“Don’t matter how pretty the please is, it ain’t happenin’.”

“Daaaad.” Now she’s just whining, but goddamnit if she doesn’t know how to get him to cave at this point.

Joel points a finger at her. “That’s emotional manipulation, you little shit.”

She just smiles angelically at him, aiming for a seventeen-year-old picture of innocence that he absolutely does not buy. “Is it working?”

“No.” He’s lying, and Ellie knows it, if the way her grin widens is any indication. “Ellie, I’m not leavin’ you to run this place by yourself for a week. It’s not safe.”

“You did it for months,” Ellie points out, her tone slightly annoyed now. “And I’m seventeen. I go on patrol now, I can handle the damn sheep for a couple days.”

“I didn’t have the sheep yet, just the repairs,” he retorts. “And –”

“Look,” Ellie interrupts, crossing her arms, “we can go back and forth on this till we’re both blue in the face. But at the end of the day we both know you’re gonna let me do it, so you might as well just save your breath.”

Joel crosses his own arms. “That so?”

“That’s so.”

There’s a stare off between them that drags on for more than a few minutes. Joel can see Ellie itching to break it, grinding her teeth as she eyes him, but he has many, many more years of being stubborn than she does, not to mention the practice at raising a teenage girl before.

Ellie caves.

“C’mon, man, please.” She steps forward, latching a hand onto his arm and shaking it. “I thought of this surprise and I already planned it all out and I really wanna do this for you, and it’ll be fucking impossible if you’re actually here. Please.”

Joel looks her over, taking in the pleading set of her face, the tense line of her shoulders. Whatever this is, doing it evidently matters a lot to her.

“Fine,” he says, and Ellie shrieks, throwing her arms around his neck. “ But,” he continues emphatically, waiting until she’s pulled back and looking him in the eyes to continue, “either Tommy or Maria will come out here every day to make sure you’re doin’ okay and that the place ain’t fallin’ down around you. And,” she rolls her eyes but doesn’t interject, “you will come into town at least twice for dinner with me so that I can see for myself you’re not injured or starvin’ or otherwise bein’ a fool.”

“Okay, okay.” She stands on her tiptoes to hug him again, and this time Joel returns it, reaching up to tug on her ponytail. “Verbal contracts are binding in the state of Wyoming, so no take backs!”

“No more time with Maria for you!” Joel calls as she darts back up to her room, shaking his head.

The hell has he agreed to?

–-

True to her word, Ellie comes into Jackson for dinner with him twice, and she generally seems whole and unharmed other than hints of a sunburn, though she keeps her lips sealed about whatever this surprise is. Tommy and Maria do too, but they both assure him that Ellie’s got everything under control and that he will like the end result. They also mention that a couple of Ellie’s friends had gone out there one day to help her with it, and Joel isn’t sure if that’s supposed to be reassuring or not.

His house and sheep better still be standing when he gets back.

Tommy teases him for the way he says Joel is moping around their house, apparently adrift without his kid trailing along behind him at all hours of the day.

“You do know that not every seventeen year old is attached at the hip to their father, right?” He says, and Joel reaches forward to steal his last potatoes in retaliation. “Plus, what are you gonna do when she moves out?”

The potato turns to ash in Joel’s mouth, and swallowing becomes a struggle. “I don’t know,” he mutters, and Tommy, perceptive for once in his life, drops it.

Ellie’s almost eighteen, which is when the majority of kids in Jackson start seeing about finding their own place, figuring out where they wanna put their time and energy in Jackson. She hasn’t said anything about moving out, and Joel certainly hasn’t wanted to be the one to bring it up.

But there is a very strong possibility that one day soon Ellie’s not gonna be at the farmhouse with him anymore, that she’s gonna opt to move back into the town and live with her friends or a partner.

(Joel’s seen how flustered she gets around Dina, but he’s not about to wade into that budding love triangle if Ellie doesn’t come to him about it.)

“That’s not what she’s doin’, right?” Joel asks, looking back up at Tommy with a hint of alarm. “She’s not like, packin’ her shit or somethin’? I’m not about to go back to an empty house, am I?”

“Whoa, whoa, big brother, slow down.” Tommy reaches forward and squeezes Joel’s shoulder. “I promise you, Ellie ain’t packin’ up to leave. She’ll be there when you go back.” Another squeeze and then he lets go, leaning back in his chair, face contemplative. “Honestly I’d be surprised if she ever plans to move out. Other than that, uh…” he clears his throat, “rough spell when y’all first got here, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you separate for an extended period till this. Shit, no wonder you’re havin’ such a rough time right now.”

Joel shrugs, uncomfortable. The food on his plate has never looked so fascinating. “Yeah, well, it’s bound to happen eventually. Nobody wants to live with their dad their whole life.” Although if Ellie did, he certainly wouldn’t be complaining.

“True.” Tommy inclines his head. “But I think you’ll have plenty of time yet. Maybe most kids don’t wanna live with their dad their whole life, but Ellie is not ‘most kids’. And she’s only had a dad for a few years, so I wouldn’t surprised if you have to kick her out rather than her optin’ to move out on her own.”

Joel mulls that over, rather liking the thought of it. “Yeah you might be right. Either way, I’ll just have to deal with it whenever it happens.”

He really hopes it doesn’t happen for quite awhile.

-–

It’s a week and two days before Ellie shows up at Tommy’s and says Joel can come back home.

Well, she doesn’t say it so much as she orders him back. Immediately.

Tommy’s snickering behind him, but Joel just flips him off and then goes to gather his things.

“Do I get to know what this surprise is yet?” he asks once they’re out of the town and on the path back to their house.

“Nope!” Ellie pops the ‘p’ on the word for emphasis. She turns a little to look over her shoulder at him, grinning mischievously. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

“The museum was worth being a surprise though,” Joel replies, arching a brow at her. “Wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Ellie says, turning back to the front. “And yours will be too.”

She makes him dismount on one side of the barn and wait there while she takes their horses in. Nothing appears out of place, no scorched earth, no disgruntled looking sheep missing patches of fur. House and barn are still standing, so Joel is really at a loss as Ellie walks back over to him and instructs him to close his eyes.

“Better not be about to lead me into a hole or somethin’,” he says warningly as he obliges, placing his hands on Ellie’s shoulders and following her carefully.

“Nah,” she responds easily, “wouldn’t have needed to kick you out of the house if I was gonna put you in your grave already.”

Just for that, Joel accidentally steps on the back of her shoe.

“Okay, stop…here. Turn. Keep your eyes closed. Okay, right…there.”

Joel lets her turn and adjust him how she wants, dutifully keeping his eyes closed.

“Alright, open.” He can hear the nervousness in her voice in those two words, the worry about whether or not he’ll like this surprise she’s cooked up for him. Pretty surprised she hasn’t figured out by now that he’s pretty damn inclined to love anything and everything she does.

(Unless she’s burning the skin off her arm and then getting a tattoo without telling him, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Joel opens his eyes.

“Well?”

He can see in his periphery that Ellie’s fidgeting with her hands, tugging on her thumb, but he’s pretty damn speechless at the moment.

She’s painted the entire side of the barn facing the house - facing his bedroom window actually, no wonder she said this would be impossible to do with him here - top to bottom, with a mural of the moon, dotted here and there with sheep. There’s mountains in the midground - he turns to his right and looks at the mountains in the distance there, sees how they match up almost exactly, and turns back - and then the night sky as the background. It’s massive, and silly, and beautifully done.

“Holy shit.” Joel turns to look at her briefly before returning his gaze to the wall, stepping closer to get a better look. “Did you do all this yourself?”

“I did.”

He doesn’t know what to take in first. The mountains are incredible, he’d be willing to bet the night sky is fairly accurate to what theirs looks like this time of year. Not that he’d know, he still can’t see constellations that aren’t the Big Dipper for shit.

The moon, though…

It looks so textured, so bumpy and shadowed and real that Joel expects to be able to brush his fingertips over it and have them come away coated in moon dust.

The sheep are easily the best part, fluffy and just un-realistic enough to fit in on the moon. There’s six of them, three spaced out on the left, two on the right, and one wearing an astronaut helmet bouncing in the sky above them.

“That’s us,” Ellie says, a little unnecessarily. Joel had kind of assumed, based on the way she somehow managed to work personalities into goddamn painted sheep. The one he guesses to be him somehow looks fucking grumpy, its wool a bit grayer than the others. The sheep munching on moon-grass next to him has dark curly wool, and Joel looks over his shoulder at Ellie.

“Sarah,” she confirms.

Joel looks back again, blinking rapidly for a moment and trying to pull himself together a bit. How far they’ve come, Joel thinks, from Ellie yelling at him about using her to replace Sarah. And now their home bears touches of Sarah everywhere, largely because of Ellie, because of sketches she’s done and little tributes she’s made like the butterfly wind chime on the back porch.

“So then that’s you, I assume,” he says with a gesture towards the sheep-stronaut.

“Course it is,” Ellie scoffs. “Sure as shit ain’t you or Uncle Tommy.”

Joel turns to look at her fully, unable to stop the grin on his face. “Goddamn girl, you’re starting to sound just like us. You’d fit right in to Texas now, with your y’alls and your ain’ts.”

She shoves his shoulder, but she’s smiling too. “That’s Tommy and Maria and TJ,” she says, indicating the three sheep on the other side, TJ a small sheep standing on top of the Tommy sheep. “Do you like it?” Ellie asks, the nervousness creeping back into her tone.

“Like it?” Joel asks incredulously, stepping back to take the whole thing in again. “Baby girl, it’s incredible. You did this, all by yourself, in under a week and a half?”

She shrugs, cheeks pinking. “I had Tommy and Maria and Dina and Jesse help me out a bit with some of the bigger stretches of painting. And then I went behind them and did the blending and details.”

“Where did you come up with all this paint?”

Ellie looks at him smugly. “Rafe and Lucas found an old paint machine awhile back on a long patrol, from an abandoned store. Took a bit, but they got it working again, and I traded them those carvings I took from you for a lot of it, some sketches for more. Had to help them find the supplies too, but it was worth it.”

“You,” Joel steps closer to her and drapes an arm over her shoulders, “never cease to amaze me.” He punctuates it with a kiss on the crown of her head. “This is so fuckin’ amazing, kiddo.”

Ellie leans against him. “Thank God, because I did get like halfway through the fucking thing and then have a very vivid dream of you hating it and throwing black paint on it to cover it up.”

“Ain’t gotta worry about that. I mean, shit…” Joel makes a wide, encompassing motion with his arm. “Look at this damn thing.” It feels like he’s seeing something new every time his eyes skate over it. The little astronaut boots on sheep-Ellie. The butterfly on the grass by sheep-Sarah. The tracks across the surface from sheep hooves.

“Worth me kicking you out of your own house for a bit?” Ellie asks lightly, hip-checking him.

Joel’s eyes land on the signature down at the bottom, a set of initials almost hidden by the grass against the wall.

E.W.M.

“Completely worth it.”

–-

The calm periods of their lives can never quite last, Joel thinks wryly when Maria sends someone out to the ranch early in March of their fifth year in Jackson with a message that they’re needed immediately in town.

Sometimes he can’t quite believe they’ve lived there so long, making what’s by all accounts a normal life in the middle of the apocalypse. Sure, there’s the occasional attempt by raiders to breach their town, they frequently have to fight fungus monsters. But Joel wakes up, goes about his day caring for his sheep and his daughter, does some woodworking and repairs in the town, has a drink at the bar every so often…it’s all so regular.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

They leave Ike at the stables and start the stroll down the road towards his brother’s house, Joel with an arm slung over Ellie’s shoulders. She had a bit of a growth spurt somewhere around seventeen and her head is finally past his shoulder, but not by much.

“What do you think it is?” Ellie asks, peering up at the gradually darkening sky.

Joel just shrugs, guiding them around a slushy puddle. “Best guess would be somethin’ about the blizzard that Dario was sayin’ was headed our way.”

It’s far more serious than that, Joel can tell immediately by the set of Maria’s face when she opens the door for them, a furrow deeper than any he's ever seen on her forehead. Ellie tenses next to him, clearly also perceiving just how bad things have to be for Maria to look like that.

His first thought is something happened to his brother or nephew, but stepping into the entryway reveals Tommy in the kitchen, TJ tugging on his hand, and immediately something in Joel’s chest loosens. If Tommy and his family are all fine, Ellie's fine...then what?

Nobody says anything until Tommy brings TJ around to say hello and then takes him upstairs to put him to bed, the toddler protesting the whole way because he wants to stay downstairs with everyone.

“We have a problem,” Maria says tersely when Tommy’s rejoined them, gesturing for Joel and Ellie to sit at the dining table. They do, warily, while she remains standing and Tommy paces behind her.

“How bad?” Joel thinks he knows, based on the way her jaw has not stopped clenching since they arrived, but he wants confirmation.

“Hard to say yet,” Maria replies with a glance over at Tommy, “but potentially very bad.”

“Spit it out then,” Ellie snaps. Joel wants to chastise her for her manners, but he’d also prefer it if Maria quit dancing around whatever was wrong.

Maria doesn’t seem the slightest bit fazed by her niece’s abruptness though, just nodding in response. “Yesterday we had a patrol group go out to investigate that Infected colony that’s been spotted roaming around, this time a bit north. They found the horde, killed a fair amount of them and rescued a young woman who was in danger of being killed.”

Joel glances over at Ellie and sees she looks just as perplexed as him. “Alright, did they bring her back here?”

“No.” Now Maria starts pacing, leaving Tommy to move out of her way or get bulldozed. “She had a group holed up in the old Baldwin mansion, and with the blizzard we’re expecting, EJ made the decision to take her back there for the time being.” She sighs, bracing her hands on the table. “He is the only one out of his group of four that has made it back.”

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, wiping a hand down his face. “What the hell happened?”

“One of our guys got nosy about the group,” Maria says heavily. “Started asking too many questions, poked through some of their stuff. Found out they’re Fireflies.”

Next to him, Ellie goes stiff as a board, fingers curling around the edge of the table until her knuckles are white. She doesn't look at him.

“Of the other three in his group, one of them is confirmed to be dead. EJ saw it happen himself. The other two are being held hostage.”

“Alright, what do they want? To be let in here? Food, supplies, what?”

Maria’s gaze levels with him, and immediately Ellie is on her feet, a sound close to a growl slipping from her throat. “They want you, Joel,” Maria says simply. “They didn’t say why but they implied you would know. They say if you turn yourself over to them, the other two will be let go. They released EJ so he could deliver the message, but he’s in rough shape.”

Joel’s out of his seat before Maria’s even finished speaking. “The Baldwin place, you said?”

“No!” Ellie grabs his arm as he walks towards the door, yanking him backwards hard enough to throw him off balance. “You’re not fucking going there, Joel.”

“Ellie,” Joel says patiently, trying - failing - to pull his arm from her grasp. Christ, when did she get so strong? “They want me, they’ll let the others go. I’m goin’.”

“You fucking are not,” Ellie spits, yanking his arm again and stepping around him so she’s blocking the door. “Over my dead fucking body.”

“Ellie,” he replies warningly. “Move.”

“Get fucked.”

“Let’s all just take a breather,” Tommy says gently, approaching the two of them with his hands up. Of all the times for his brother to play mediator, this has got to be the fucking worst.

“No time for that,” Joel shoots back at him, turning to face Ellie again. “Move, Ellie.”

“No.” Her voice wavers this time, but Joel knows it’s not because she’s gonna let him pass. “They’re Fireflies, Joel.”

He sighs. “I know they are, baby.”

“They will kill you.” Ellie’s looking at him pleadingly now.

“Ellie, I can’t –”

She cuts him off. “You’re right, you can’t. Because we handle things like this as a fucking family, Joel. Or have you forgotten what happened last time you made a unilateral decision?” Her glare is fierce, determined, and Joel feels her words land like physical blows.

“She’s right, Joel,” Maria says from behind him. “You can’t just go hand yourself over to them. For one, there’s no guarantee they’ll let the others go if you do. For two, the council has already decided that we are not about to cave to their demands. If we do, what’s to stop them from demanding more? We also have no proof that the others are even still alive. EJ made it back an hour ago, and he says as best he can judge he left the Baldwin place two to three hours before that. Anything could have happened to them in that time.”

It’s times like these Joel resents Maria’s past as an attorney, because she’s always so goddamn prepared for every argument, every eventuality.

“So you’re willing to let two other members of our community die,” Joel snaps, turning to glare at her, “instead of just letting me go there myself?”

“Everyone who goes on patrol knows the risks,” Maria replies calmly, not the least bit daunted by him. “We have had raiders try something like this before.” She sighs, her gaze understanding. “I know that you want to go try to save them, but we have no guarantee that your handing yourself over would accomplish that. And forgive me if I am not willing to sacrifice a member of my own family on a fool’s errand.”

Joel looks over at Tommy, but his brother just shakes his head. “Oh no, you’ll get no support from me on this.” When Joel glares, Tommy gives him a wry smile. “Did you really think any of us would let you do this? Willingly lose a brother, brother-in-law, uncle —”

“A father,” Ellie interjects, crossing her arms. Joel doesn’t respond, and she sighs, looking past him to Tommy and Maria. “Can y’all give us a second please?”

A shared look of wordless communication passes between husband and wife, and then Maria says “We’ll go check on TJ.”

Ellie waits until their steps have receded up the stairs and there’s the distinct sound of a door shutting before she speaks. “You’re not going.”

“Would you hear me out at least?”

“No,” Ellie replies simply. “There’s nothing you could say that would convince me that you should do this.”

Joel wants to appreciate her stubbornness, her protectiveness, but he also wants her to be realistic. “We don’t know who they have up there. What if it’s Jesse, or Dina?” The girls had finally stopped (metaphorically) dancing around each other, which Joel was relieved to see even if he’d had to punch a bigot afterwards.

She tries not to, but Ellie flinches and looks away from him. Maybe it’s a low blow, bringing up the two people who matter most to her outside their family, but it’s also entirely possible they were in the group. If it gets her to see the reason in letting him go, then he’ll use it.

“I hope it’s not,” she finally says, her jaw working furiously, “but if it is, it doesn’t change my mind. Losing either of them, or both of them, would hurt. But not like losing you would.” She turns back to face him, eyes glistening. “I would not survive that.”

“Oh, baby girl.” Joel steps closer to her, resting a hand on her cheek. “You would. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

She knocks his hand away, glaring at him. “Not that strong.” When Joel opens his mouth to interject she just shakes her head. “Would you survive losing me? You don’t have to say anything, I know the fucking answer to that.”

Yeah, she does. She’s known the answer since she was fourteen and he looked her in the eye and told her it wasn’t time that did it. She’s known the answer since he gunned down dozens of people just to keep her alive.

But now the consequences of that choice were finally coming home to roost, and he couldn’t just ignore them.

“Ellie,” Joel tries gently, “you can’t expect me to be okay with sittin’ here on my ass when I could be helpin’ save these people’s lives.”

“They will kill you, Dad.” A few tears slip down her cheeks and she swipes at them angrily. Joel tries - fuck, he tries - to make this the one instance where Ellie calling him Dad doesn’t immediately make him want to cave. “And they will probably make you suffer while they’re at it, because of what you did at the hospital. If you go hand yourself over to them, you’re not coming back here. How can you be okay with that, how can you be okay with leaving me?”

Joel steps back, stung. “I’m not okay with leaving you, baby. But this is the right thing to do, and moreso, this is my goddamn mess. They’re here because of me, because I killed those other Fireflies to save you. It’s only right that I clean it up.” He paces away from her and then back again, hands on his hips. “How can I have spent these last years preachin’ at you about personal responsibility and then not take responsibility for this?”

Fuck, Ellie looks gutted at his words, and it tears at his heart that he’s the cause of it. But he has to make her understand why he needs to do this.

“So let me get this straight,” Ellie says, anger creeping into her voice. “I wanted to die to make a cure for cordyceps, and you got to be selfish and kill a bunch of people to keep me alive even though it would have saved the world –”

“Ellie,” Joel interjects, his own anger rising, but she just talks over him.

“But it’s not okay for me to be selfish and refuse to let you die to save two people who might already be dead, it’s not okay for me to be selfish and not want the most important goddamn person in my life to be tortured and murdered for no fucking reason.” She strides forward and shoves at his chest, and Joel has a clear, painful recollection of her doing the same thing all those years ago when she was mad at him for not telling her about Sarah. “Well fuck you, Joel, I do not accept that. I didn’t get to die all those years ago at the hospital, and you don’t get to fucking die now.”

“Baby –”

“You want to say I’m strong enough to survive you dying?” She’s shouting now, and Joel can hear the echo of footsteps upstairs, knows Tommy or Maria is probably about to tell them to keep it down so they don't wake TJ. “Do you know what would happen if I let you walk out that door and go on a fucking suicide mission? I would burn my entire fucking life to the ground,” she hisses, jamming a finger into his chest, “to hunt down and kill the people who took you from me. I would leave Jackson to go after them, I would leave Tommy and Maria and TJ and Dina, and I would do anything to get revenge on them for you. I would probably fucking die doing it, and it would be worth it to me.” Ellie sucks in a deep breath. “Is that what you want for me?”

She knows damn well it’s not what he would want for her, Joel thinks as he paces away again, scrubbing his hands over his face. Just like he knows damn well that she would do it, that she wouldn’t let anything on Earth stop her. She's so goddamn stubborn, and while he tends to find it endearing, he absolutely hates that about her now.

He can see so clearly how it would go. Ellie, leaving Jackson to hunt down these Fireflies. Getting hurt along the way, hurting and killing other people, possibly innocent ones just like he had. Hell, Tommy would probably follow her, both out of his own desire for revenge and to try to keep Ellie safe. Maria probably wouldn’t forgive that, so his brother’s family would be wrecked, his nephew forced to grow up without his father at home.

And that’s even assuming Tommy and Ellie both survived, weren't hurt or injured beyond saving.

Fuck.

“I don’t like this,” Joel says carefully, turning back to face Ellie. The words taste like acid, like abandoned responsibilities, like the lives of his fellow townspeople. “Not in the slightest. I still think I should go.” He sighs. “But I won’t.”

Ellie stares at him disbelievingly, biting her lower lip. “You won’t?”

“I won’t,” he repeats.

She takes a half-step forward, stops. Her expression turns suspicious. “Swear it.” When Joel just stares at her, her gaze grows determined. “Swear to me you won’t sneak out and go up there and hand yourself over. That you’ll stay here and we’ll figure out another way.” Ellie’s eyes leave him and drift over to the mantel, where various family photos rest amongst drawings done by Ellie, including one of Tommy and Sarah.

“Swear it on Sarah.”

Joel hears the stifled gasp from behind him that means that at some point Tommy came back down without them noticing, probably to make sure they hadn’t killed each other, but he doesn’t turn around.

Instead he steps closer to Ellie, bringing his hands up to cup her face and make sure she’s looking him dead in the eye.

“I swear,” he says gently, “on Sarah, and on you, that I won’t go turn myself in to the Fireflies. I will stay here with you, and we will figure out another way.”

“That’s fucking right you won’t,” is all Ellie says before she leans forward and wraps her arms around his torso, squeezing tightly.

Joel brings one hand up to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her short ponytail while the other hand rubs slowly at her back.

He still thought, down in the core of him where his practically destroyed moral compass sat, that the right thing for him to do would be to go trade himself for the others. But not at the cost of Ellie’s future, not when his doing so would set her on a path to wrecking her life and possibly losing it. He loves her entirely too much to let that happen.

They’re silent together for a second as Tommy approaches, his eyes connecting with Joel’s over the top of Ellie’s head. “You talk some sense into him, darlin’?”

“Course I did,” Ellie replies, her voice not nearly as breezy as she seems to be aiming for. “He’s agreed to stay here and let it be handled some other way.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Joel doesn’t let Ellie go and she makes no move to step away, both of them aware that she’s the only thing keeping him from walking out the door. “So what’s the plan then?”

Tommy rests his hands on his hips, glancing over his shoulder to where Maria is walking down the stairs.

“Another group is gonna go up there and see what can be done,” Maria answers, her tone careful. “Hopefully they can either negotiate with or overpower the other group, and get our people home safe. But either way we’re going to figure out a resolution that doesn’t include you being a sacrificial lamb.”

Joel doesn’t like it a single goddamn bit, but he also knows his family isn’t above tying him down or knocking him out to keep him from going.

He considers making one final plea for them to let him hand himself over, swear or no swear, but then TJ comes down the stairs rubbing his eyes and peering up at them curiously.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Maria asks gently, crouching in front of her son. He shakes his head.

“Can I get another story?”

Tommy moves, but Ellie speaks first. “How about Uncle Joel reads you one? He does the best voices.”

Joel levels a glare at her but she just stares defiantly back, tilting her head in a challenge when TJ comes over and latches himself onto his uncle, tugging his hand. She’s not subtle, his kid, not in the slightest. Getting him to go read bedtime stories to his nephew as a way to trap him in the house.

Joel lets himself be led upstairs and spends the next hour reading from his nephew’s rather impressive collection of storybooks. Tommy and Maria and Ellie all come up at various points, as if to make sure he’s still there reading and hasn’t climbed out through the window. TJ has the same barnacle tendencies as his cousin though, and there’s no way for him to be detached until he’s fully conked out.

When he comes downstairs, it’s to an alarmingly empty house and a note on the table.

Maria’s gone to finish organizing the group heading up to the Baldwin place, I’m gonna get their weapons prepped.
-Tommy

More alarmingly, underneath that is a second note, a three word sentence that just about stops Joel’s fucking heart.

Don’t be mad.
-E

Joel crumples the note in his fist, tossing it against the wall where it bounces uselessly down to the ground.

Goddamn his reckless, insane, irresponsible child. That one sentence said everything Joel needs to know: she’s gone after the Fireflies. Whether she actually joined the group that Maria put together or she went on her own remains to be seen, and Joel’s got his jacket half on and heading for the door before he remembers the sleeping boy upstairs.

That’s why she did it, Joel knows without a doubt. Ellie went because she knew he wouldn’t leave TJ alone to come after her, and there’s no telling when any of the rest of them will be back. She went when she knew he was more or less trapped in this house, went off to go put herself in danger after she just fucking barred him from doing the same.

The jacket makes a slightly more satisfying thump when it hits the wall and then the floor, and Joel settles himself in to wait.

–-

It’s nearly three hours later before Maria comes back, her steps hesitant despite the fact that they’re in her house. Joel stands from the couch, already moving to the door, but Maria just steps in front of him with her hands up.

“You can’t go after them,” she says, and Joel stumbles.

“Them?” Jesus Christ. “Tommy went too?”

Maria nods, still not moving. “He was always planning to go, because he doesn’t trust anyone else to eliminate this threat. They left, and then about thirty minutes later one of the group came back with a message from him. Said that Ellie joined up with them when they were out of the gates, and he thought it safer to keep her with them where he could protect her then try to send her back and risk her going alone.”

Fuck. 

It’s smart, Joel has to admit, keeping Ellie with Tommy where he can watch out for her and hopefully curb her innate recklessness. There’s nobody else he would trust with Ellie’s life but his brother.

But at the same time, he’d love nothing more than to punch Tommy in the face when they get back for not returning with Ellie himself. And if she comes back hurt, in any way…

Joel will track down every last Firefly he can and give them the same treatment he did the ones in the hospital.

–-

The messenger knocks on the door somewhere around two in the morning, waking Joel and Maria from where they’d been dozing in the living room, him in the recliner and her on the couch.

She answers the door and Joel hears faint, indistinct murmurs before she returns. He’s already standing when she comes back, a furrow in her brow.

“Where’s Ellie?”

“The group got to the mansion and got inside,” Maria begins slowly, and Joel’s temper flares to life. He doesn’t give a single solitary fuck about what the group did or did not do - he wants to know where his kid is. “They confirmed that the two hostages, Roman and Talia,” Maria’s face flickers slightly, and Joel spares a second to remember that Talia was a close friend of hers, “were already dead. They –”

“Cut the shit, Maria, where’s my daughter?” Joel demands.

“At the bank, with Tommy,” she replies, “but they’re –”

The slamming door cuts off the remainder of her words, and Joel stomps out into the snow.

–-

“Ellie!”

Joel barrels into the bank, looking around wildly.

“Back here,” comes the response, and he practically sprints around the corner and into the back where it looks like the offices and - he assumes - the vault are. 

“Ellie?”

She’s standing with Tommy in front of a metal gate, and he can just barely make out the shape of someone behind it, but he doesn’t give a fuck who or what is in there. He just wants to lay eyes on his kid, his stupid, foolish, risk-taking kid who seems to bask in any opportunity to take years off his fucking life.

Ellie turns, already apparently bracing herself, and any relief at seeing her alive is quickly eradicated by the state she’s in, and Joel is damn near tripping over his feet to get to her.

“I’m fine,” she tries to say as his hands come up to cup her cheeks, turning her head so he can better see the bruises on her chin. “Dad, I’m fine, I swear.”

“You don’t fuckin’ look fine,” he growls, gaze landing on the scrape along her hairline. She’s not wearing her jacket or flannel for some reason, and he can see a bandage around her bicep, a bruise blooming on her shoulder. Judging by the way she’s moving, she’s possibly also got some injuries to her ribs. “What the fuck were you thinkin’, Ellie? Christ.” He lets go of her cheeks and pulls her against him, resisting the urge to squeeze her tightly out of the fear of hurting her worse.

Ellie’s arms wrap around his torso and she squeezes, her chin pressed to his collarbone. “You know exactly what I was thinking,” she murmurs, too quietly for anyone but him to hear.

Joel kisses her temple, unwilling to let go just yet. “Do not ever fuckin’ pull somethin’ like that again, young lady. You are grounded till you’re fuckin’ seventy.”

Ellie snorts, but whatever retort she was gonna make is cut off by a sarcastic voice from behind the metal gates, the words bouncing off the high ceiling of the vault.

“Isn’t this fucking touching.”

Reluctantly, Joel releases Ellie, though he keeps a hand around her wrist, and turns to face the woman staring out at them. She’s tall, muscular - probably outweighs Ellie by a solid sixty to eighty pounds - and glaring at him with a fierce hatred. He'd really hate to see how it would end for him if they weren't separated by bars.

“So let me see if I have this straight,” she says, venom in her voice. “You’re told to bring the little immune girl to the Fireflies so they can make a cure.” She flicks a derisive glance in Ellie’s direction before her gaze settles on him again. “And you decide somewhere along the way that her life matters more than the millions that could be saved, that the entire world can go to hell. So instead, you murder all the people in that hospital, and come back here to play happy little family. Do I have that right?”

“More or less,” Joel replies through gritted teeth.

Hands wrap around the bars and shake them for a brief, angry second. “You don’t deserve it. Any of it, you murderous goddamn asshole . You’re gonna fucking rot in hell, and I’m gonna put you there myself.” Her eyes shift to Ellie, who glares back at her with the same fierceness. “And you . Selfish fucking bitch . The Fireflies could have fixed the whole world, but no . You decided having a ‘dad’ was more important.” She rattles the bars again.

“That’s not what happened,” Ellie replies sharply, her glare just as fierce as the other woman’s. “The Fireflies didn’t give me a goddamn choice, they were just gonna slice my head open without telling me. Y’all fucking lied to me at every turn about what it would take to make the cure and you never thought to ask me if I was willing to die.”

“You should have been –”

“I was fourteen!” Ellie yells. “I’d had a miserable fucking life up until a few months prior, and the Fireflies took advantage of that!” She steps forward, but Joel tugs on her wrist lightly to keep her from getting any closer. He wouldn’t put it past the woman to reach out and grab her, and she could easily do some damage to Ellie through the bars. “Fuck you guys for trying to manipulate a traumatized kid into sacrificing herself.”

Words Joel thought he’d never hear her say. Sure, over the years and their many fraught conversations on the topic, he had said the same things to her repeatedly. But he’d never known how much she absorbed it, how much she believed it, or if she was just humoring him and trying to bury her resentment.

The woman doesn’t respond, simply glares through the bars, eyes darting between the two of them and down to where Joel holds her wrist.

Joel glances over at Tommy, and his brother inclines his head towards the door. Joel tugs Ellie after him, Tommy coming out last and closing the door behind them.

“That woman –”

Tommy’s words are cut off by Joel’s fist meeting his chin and sending him stumbling back into a desk, Ellie’s alarmed yell behind him barely registering.

“That,” Joel growls, advancing on his brother and shoving him back again, dodging the arm that Tommy swings in his direction, “is for letting my daughter go into a fucking dangerous situation like that and her getting hurt, you irresponsible jackass.”

Tommy rights himself and steps forward like he’s gonna shove Joel right back until Ellie wedges herself in between them.

“Fucking stop it, guys!”

“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy snaps. “It was either keep her with me or send her off alone, and I picked the safest damn option.”

“You could have come back with her!” Joel makes to step around Ellie but she just darts back in front of him again, glaring at him when he tries to move her. “Neither of you needed to be the ones to go out there. Especially after you fuckin’ refused to let me!”

“Fucking stop.” Ellie’s finger jabs him in the chest, and Joel looks down at her. “You don’t get to be mad at me or at Uncle Tommy for going to make sure these Fireflies were taken care of.”

“The hell I –”

“You don’t,” Ellie emphasizes, poking him again, “because there’s no fucking way you wouldn’t have done the same thing if it were a threat against either of us, or Maria, or TJ. And don’t,” she adds when he opens his mouth, “even fucking try that whole you’re my kid and he’s my little brother nonsense I know you wanna say. We’re both adults, we make our own damn choices.”

His back teeth grind together so hard Joel thinks he can hear them crack, and he raises his eyes back to Tommy. “What happened up there?”

Tommy glares back at him for a moment before he answers. “We got there,” and there’s still a note of hostility in his voice that tells Joel he’s not gonna be forgetting about the punch any time soon, “and we managed to get all seven of us inside without being detected. Took out as many of the Fireflies as we could find, which was about ten of them I think. That one,” he gestures with his chin towards the room they’ve left, “got the jump on Ellie when she was taking down one of the guys, and it was a minute before we could get them separated. Knocked her out and brought her here to question her, see if we need to be expecting any other Fireflies. We know at least one or two got away, Rafe saw a horse riding off but couldn’t tell how many riders.”

“You alright?” Joel asks begrudgingly, and Tommy snorts.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Only injury I’ll have is a bruise on my jaw.”

While Ellie will have a ton more, Joel wants to shoot back. He sucks in a breath, willing himself not to punch his brother again. “Who’s gonna handle talkin’ to the one who made it back?”

“Figured you would want to, since they’re after you. And then I think Max wanted to chat with her as well. Council is discussin’ what to do with her now.”

Ellie turns to look at Tommy, perplexed. “What do you mean, what to do with her? She killed three of our people, tried to kill me, wants to kill Joel. The fuck are we supposed to do with her but kill her?”

Tommy sighs, rubbing his fingertips over his mustache. He looks exhausted, older than he has in some time, and the tiniest sliver of Joel’s anger dissipates. “We don’t know that she’s the one that pulled the trigger on the others. Could’ve been one of her friends that we already killed, could’ve been the ones that rode off. Can’t kill her based on an assumption.”

Ellie practically growls, “That’s such fucking bullshit.”

Joel’s inclined to agree, but he also has no sway in what the council decides, and there’s only so many battles he feels like fighting right now.

“Alright, well I’m gonna go talk with her. Y’all oughta head home and get some rest.”

“The hell I will!”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Tommy and Ellie speak up at the same time, both of them glaring at him now.

“You’re not goin’ in there alone,” Tommy says, “not when she specifically wants to kill you, big brother. Either myself or Ellie, or both of us, are stickin’ with you till she’s dealt with.”

Ellie nods her agreement, and Joel just sighs. “Why is everyone in this family so damn hardheaded?”

Tommy snorts. “Well considerin’ you practically raised me, and you raised that feral thing,” he points to his niece and she sticks her tongue out at him in turn, “I’d say you’ve only got yourself to blame there.”

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel mumbles with a shake of his head. “Alright, let’s go get this over with then.”

Tommy leads the way back into the vault room, where the girl is laying back on the cot behind the bars, staring at the ceiling. Her head rotates slowly until she’s looking - glaring - at them, her eyes filled with a venomous hatred that promises as much violence as she could possibly inflict if the opportunity ever arose.

They will probably make you suffer, Ellie had said when trying to convince him not to go, and looking at this angry woman only emphasized the truth of her words.

Joel tugs a chair over so it’s in front of the bars but out of reach, each of his movements tracked by furious brown eyes. Ellie and Tommy each lean against the wall behind him, weapons visible, and wait silently.

“I’d introduce myself,” Joel says, sinking down in the chair, “but I get the feelin’ you know who I am already.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Care to share who you are?”

She snorts. “What is this, the pleasant phase of the interrogation before you start torturing me?”

“I got no plans to torture you,” Joel says simply.

“Do you even fucking remember them?” Her eyes are burning holes in him, hands clenched into fists on top of her stomach. “All those people you murdered in the hospital, do you even remember them?”

“I do.”

It’s not a lie, or an attempt at placating this woman that Joel knows can’t be placated. He does, in fact, remember pretty much all of the people he killed back in Salt Lake City. Many of them, he didn’t get close enough to see their faces, but the ones he did…

He’s relived that rampage so many times in his dreams, more times than he would ever tell Ellie or Tommy. So many nights spent waking up from nightmares where he doesn’t get to Ellie in time, where he’s stuck in a loop of floor after floor, bullet after bullet. Seeing their faces, feeling their blood spatter on him again. He’d been so out of it at the time, so focused on one aim - find Ellie and get her out of here - that until the first dream he hadn’t realized just how much it had all etched itself into his brain.

The woman makes an angry, disbelieving noise, shifting until she’s sitting up with her hands curled over the edge of the cot.

“And the surgeon?” There’s an extra note to her voice there, anger or sorrow or longing or some combination that Joel can’t parse through. “Do you remember him?”

A blink is all it takes to conjure up the man who had stood in front of Ellie’s prone form and wielded a scalpel, as if that would have been enough to stop Joel from saving his kid. His mouth and nose had been covered by a mask, his hair by a scrub cap, but his eyes, filled with fear and desperation, were crystal clear in Joel’s mind.

As was the bullet hole in his forehead.

There’s been a lot of nights where Joel’s laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering if there had been another way to save Ellie. Wondering if every death in that hospital had been necessary, wondering how many families he’d just ripped to shreds. Wondering if he could have gotten her out of there without doing what he did.

Every time he came to the same conclusion that it didn’t really matter, that he’d do it all again if it meant keeping Ellie alive. There wasn’t a single damn thing he wouldn’t do to protect her, and if nightmares and an occasionally unsteady relationship with his kid were the price, he’d gladly pay it.

“I remember him,” Joel says quietly, watching the way his words make her shoulders tense, a tremor running through her. He’s never been the greatest at guessing ages, but he can tell she’s likely too young to have been his wife, or even his sister. “He was your father,” Joel guesses.

She doesn’t confirm it, but the twitch of her hands says everything.

Joel glances over his shoulder at Ellie, trying to gauge how she’s handling all of this. She looks exhausted, physically and emotionally, but she’s not glaring at him with the resentment that still surfaces occasionally when the specter of the hospital comes between them. Instead she’s watching the other woman carefully, the first hint of understanding in her gaze.

“Are you the slightest bit sorry?” she spits, pulling Joel’s attention back to her. “Got any remorse for murdering dozens of people in cold blood?”

“Yes,” he replies honestly. “But not enough to make me wish I hadn’t done it. I’d sacrifice any number of lives to save my daughter’s, including my own.”

The woman snorts derisively, indicating Ellie with her chin. “She is not your daughter. She is a fucking orphan who should have died.”

Joel doesn’t have to be looking at Ellie to feel her bristling at the words. They prick at him too, make him want to stand up and snap at this woman that Ellie is his child, in every way that matters, biology be damned.

But it won’t matter to her, not in the slightest. As far as Joel and Ellie are concerned, her mind is made up, and they’re the bad guys. No matter that they decided - he decided - that a fourteen-year-old wasn’t going to sacrifice herself for a cure. No matter that they decided to try to salvage what they could and make some kind of family in this shitty situation they’d been handed.

They were the reasons her father was dead, and they would never be anything else to her.

Joel doesn’t say anything else, just nods briefly and stands. Nothing more for him to do here, so he leaves.

–-

The council decides that, barring any evidence that the woman - Abby, she told Max her name was - is the one who shot Talia, Roman, and Doug, she’ll be released back outside the walls. There’ll be a shoot on sight order for her after that, if she’s seen anywhere around Jackson or discovered on patrol.

Tommy and Ellie both protest this when Maria comes to tell them, but her hands are tied. She was asked to abstain from the vote due to the fact that the person being voted on had threatened a member of her family, and the final vote had been 5-1 in favor of letting Abby live.

Joel didn’t like it either, less out of concern for himself since he didn’t really patrol very much any more, and more out of worry about his kid and his brother and the other people in Jackson who did . But there was no overriding the council on this. Abby was to be released, and all Joel and his family could do was watch her be escorted out by the group that had helped catch her, weapons at the ready.

It was dark, and windy, and snowy, and that’s what Joel later blamed for the way things happened. Well that, and the sheer incompetence of the people walking Abby out.

Which one of them had the knife, Joel doesn’t know or bother to find out. All that matters is that they had it, and the second her hands were free Abby wrested it from them, turning to fling it back in his direction at the same time a shot rang out.

Joel lands on his side in the snow, hip radiating pain from how he falls, and he hears the air knocked from Ellie’s lungs as she lands squarely on his elbow.

“You okay?” she wheezes in his ear, rolling off him after a second.

“Gonna have a helluva bruise tomorrow,” he grunts, leveraging himself up on his elbow and feeling the dampness of the snow soak into his sleeve, “but fine. You?” People have crowded around where Abby was just a moment ago, blocking him from seeing anything.

“Just peachy,” Ellie replies in a deadpan voice that has him sitting up and turning to her immediately, hip pain be damned.

“God fucking damnit.”

Joel scrambles over to her, yanking off his jacket and the flannel underneath to press the latter to Ellie’s arm where blood is streaming down. The knife rests in the snow behind her, its blade kissed with red.

“Clinic,” he says shortly, trying to keep the panic from his voice. Trying to keep the anger from his voice, because he knows, without even having to ask, that that knife was aimed at him. And that Ellie shoved him down and put herself in the way of it on purpose. Christ, one of these days the shit she pulls is gonna send him straight to his grave.

Thankfully, she doesn’t argue with him this time, instead letting herself be hoisted up and led over to Tommy.

“I shot her,” Tommy says flatly without looking over at them. “Saw that knife in her hand, and I reacted on instinct.” He looks over at them, rifle still braced against his shoulder. “Pretty sure I got her in the ch- Jesus Christ, Ellie!” His eyes widen as they take in the blood-soaked cloth pressed to her arm, the way she’s gritting her teeth against the pain.

“Gonna take her to get patched up,” Joel says wearily, exhausted to his core and desperately wishing for an end to this god-awful night. “And then we’re goin’ home. Come by tomorrow if you feel up to it, let me know what else happens.”

“Yeah,” Tommy gives a tight nod, gaze roving back to the group of people gathered around what Joel can now tell is a body on the ground. Whether she’s moving - breathing - is unclear to him, but if Tommy thinks he got her in the chest he probably did, which means there’s no saving her.

It doesn’t make him feel any better.

–-

Joel keeps hold of Ellie’s hand as the nurse stitches her arm up, watching every move carefully. He doesn’t say anything until she’s left, and it’s just the two of them.

He really needs her to stop taking so many goddamn risks.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asks her, looking over her once again.

“I’m alright,” Ellie reassures him, only wincing a little as she readjusts her arm, shrugging her flannel back on. The fabric is sliced through on the arm, and the white of her newest bandage over what will be her newest scar peeks through.

Fuck, she’s got entirely too many scars for someone her age.

“Good.” Joel stands directly in front of her and waits until she’s looking him in the eye. “Then I want you to listen to me when I say you are not ever, ever to put yourself between me and a weapon again. Do you understand me?” When she just scoffs and looks away from him, he ducks so he’s looking her in the eye again. “ Ellie . Do you understand me?”

“Whatever, Joel.”

“No, Ellie, it’s not whatever,” he replies, stung. “It’s your goddamn life. That knife could have gone in your chest!”

“And it could have gone in yours!” She retorts, glaring up at him. “You’re fucking welcome, by the way.”

“I would rather it have hit me than you.”

“Funny, I feel the same.” Ellie watches him angrily. “I’m not gonna stand by and just watch you get hurt, I know you think I’m fucking useless or something, but I’m not. I’m not a goddamn kid, Joel, I’m nineteen.”

“I don’t – I don’t think you’re useless, baby.”

Ellie just grunts in disagreement, gaze dropping from his, and Joel sighs. He wheels a chair over so it’s in front of her, sitting on it so he’s slightly below her eye level. Slowly, in case she pulls away, he reaches forward and holds one of her hands between the two of his. The bruises on her knuckles are just screaming at him to be kissed better, so he presses his lips to each one and then looks back up at her.

“I don’t think you’re useless, Ellie,” he repeats softly. “And I know you’re not a kid. But you are my kid, and it kills me when you put yourself in harm's way.” Ellie opens her mouth to interject, but he just shakes his head. “Let me finish, please.”

“Okay.” Her hand tightens around his.

“I know you’re an adult now. I know exactly what kind of badass young woman you are. Perfectly aware that you can outshoot and outride me, and you could probably kick my ass if you put your mind to it.” A small chuckle escapes him, an answering one coming from Ellie. “But when I look at you, I still see that fourteen-year-old in the alley, fightin' off three boys at once. And that has more to do with me than with you,” he adds, to forestall the argument he can feel building inside her. “It has to do with the fact that it’s hard, as a parent, to make yourself realize that your kid has grown up and doesn’t need you anymore.”

“I’m always gonna need you,” Ellie replies, visibly confused.

Joel offers her a small smile. “It’s different though, than it used to be. It’s like…” He blows out a breath, looking down at where he’s still holding her hand. “I used to take Sarah to the playground when she was little. She loved the monkey bars, swingin’ upside down from ‘em and shit. Don’t know what the hell I did to be cursed with two children who love climbin’ and givin’ me heart attacks,” he says wryly, and Ellie laughs a little. “Anyways, she always needed my help reachin’ the first bar, she wanted me to stay next to her in case she fell. Then,” he shrugs, “one day she didn’t. Jumped up there herself, told me I was too close when I went to stand where I normally did. She didn’t mean anythin’ by it but I felt like I’d been kicked in the chest.”

Ellie makes a noise, and Joel looks up to see her blinking rapidly, watching him carefully.

“I know that you can handle yourself, that you can take care of yourself.” Joel tries to circle back to his original point. “But you’re my daughter, and you’re always gonna be that fourteen-year-old to me. Just be glad I wasn’t there when you were a baby, or that’s how I’d see you instead.” He offers up a weak smile that Ellie doesn’t return.

“I wish you had been,” she says, her voice a little choked. It’s not the first time she’s said something along those lines, not the first time he’s wished it either. “I really wish you had been.”

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.” Joel sighs. “But I just…what I’m tryin’ to say is that, no matter how old and capable you get, you are always gonna be my little girl, no matter what age I found you at. My first instinct is always gonna be to protect you, to prioritize your life and happiness over my own. I don’t do it because I think you can’t handle yourself. I do it because I love you and I need you safe.”

Ellie stands, moving a little stiffly, and she tugs on his hand until he stands too and she can wrap her arms around his torso, forehead pressing into the side of his neck. She gives pretty damn good hugs when she sets her mind to it.

“Do you remember what I said to you, back in Nebraska?”

Joel rubs a hand up and down her back. “I mean, you said a lot of things. Talked my damn ear off across half the country.”

Ellie pinches him on the side and he flicks her on the forehead in retaliation. “I told you that I needed you alive, that you were the last thing I had.” She pulls back just enough to look up at him. “I know technically now I have all these people, Tommy and Maria and everyone. But I still need you alive more than I need anyone else. So even though I know it stresses you out and I know you hate it, I will always do whatever it takes to protect you, just like you do for me.”

Joel takes a small step back, cupping his hands over her cheeks. “Why in the hell are you so stubborn?”

“Miller family trait, I’m told,” Ellie replies lightly. “Proof that nurture is stronger than nature.”

Joel hands her her jacket and shrugs his own on, guiding her out of the exam room and towards the front of the clinic with a hand between her shoulders. “You say that like you weren’t already more stubborn than the average mule when I found your scrawny ass.”

“I was not,” Ellie says with mock outrage, shivering slightly as they step out into the cold. They’ve been up so goddamn late that the sky is already lightening a bit in the distance, the entire night passing in a flurry of anxiety and terror and near-death experiences. “I was completely tractable and sweet.”

Joel snorts. “The hell you were. Pretty sure I told you to leave me alone more than once, and yet here we are.”

Ellie just smiles up at him, only a hint of teasing on her face. “Yeah, here we are.”

He’s not able to help from smiling back down at her, nudging her into the warmth of the stables. “Guess it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

“That it did,” Ellie agrees, leading their horse out of its stall while Joel grabs the tack. “And it’s all thanks to me.”

“To you?”

Ellie shrugs, moving about bridling Ike with an easy efficiency. “You said it yourself a minute ago. You told me to leave you alone repeatedly, and I refused, so it’s thanks to my stubbornness that we are where we are now.”

“So you get all the credit?” Joel swings up onto the horse, reaching an arm down to help Ellie up behind him, same as he’s done a hundred times before.

“I do.”

“And I get none?”

“Nope.”

“That don’t seem right.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

The debate continues all the way back to the farmhouse, even as both of them begin to yawn and Ellie slumps more heavily against him.

“C’mon, baby girl,” Joel says gently when they’re outside the barn. Ellie stirs a little behind him and he reaches back to pat her knee. “Get down and go on up to bed, I’ll get Ike taken care of.”

“Nah,” Ellie says around a yawn as she slides down the ground, wandering away with a stumbling step not unlike that of a toddler. “I’ll wait for you.”

She dozes off on top of a hay bale, but she waits, looping her arm around Joel’s waist when he wakes her up and they head inside.

“Why do you think she did it?”

Joel looks over and sees Ellie frowning at her feet as they step up onto the porch. “Did what?”

“Threw the knife.” Her arm twitches a little. “She had to know she’d be killed for it right away.”

Their coats get hung on the hooks by the door, shoes shucked off, and Joel sighs, the weight of the night sitting heavy on his shoulders. “I reckon she knew, and didn’t care. She was desperate, and in pain. Y’know how earlier you said you’d burn your life to the ground to get revenge if somethin’ happened to me?” Ellie nods, and Joel reaches up to tug on her ponytail. “Seems to me like she was bent on doin’ the same thing. Revenge for her dad, and any friends she might have lost that day at my hands, no matter the cost.”

“Yeah.” Ellie’s gaze wanders over to their mantel, to the drawings and photos of the two of them and Sarah that have accumulated over the years. “Yeah, I can understand that.”

Joel doesn’t push, doesn’t say anything else, just follows her as she turns and makes her way up the stairs.

“Can I stay with you?” she asks when they’re at the landing, and Joel looks down at her in surprise. She hasn’t asked - or even seemingly needed - to sleep next to him in over a year now, possibly two. Nightmares are less frequent, less severe, and more often than not she doesn't show up in his room until it's almost sunrise, just wanting to talk or lay there quietly for a bit.

“Course,” he replies gently, nudging her in the direction of her bathroom. “But brush your teeth and change your clothes first.”

“Mmkay.” She yawns again, shuffling away and bouncing off the doorframe a bit before actually getting into the bathroom.

The fatigue is hitting him too, the adrenaline crash from this long, hellish evening finally being over. It feels like a week ago that Maria sat him down and told him there were Fireflies out for his blood instead of less than twelve hours ago, and he does a bit of bumping into his own doorframes and furniture before his pajamas are on and his teeth are brushed. He fully expects Ellie to have conked out in her room already, so he’s pleasantly surprised when she wanders in with a pillow under her arm and a blanket trailing on the ground like Linus.

She flaps a hand at him in a move over gesture, and Joel scoots with a roll of his eyes. Normally she’d sleep on the side of the bed closest to the wall, but then there’s a decent chance he’d end up bumping her stitches in the middle of the night, which neither of them wants.

The lamp gets clicked off, and Joel reaches over to tug the curtain more firmly closed against the rising sun.

Ellie’s breathing is deep and steady, but she cracks an eye open and looks over at him blearily. “Know why I did it?”

It, Joel assumes, meaning putting herself in front of a knife for him. “Because you’re a damn fool?” he suggests, leaning over to kiss her head when she rests her cheek on his bicep.

“‘Cause,” she fights another yawn, “I’ve only had you for five years. And ‘s not enough.”

His throat closes up for a second, warmth unfurling in his chest. “Tommy said somethin’ similar to me awhile back, when I mentioned bein’ worried about you wantin’ to move out –”

“Why would I move out?” Ellie’s words sound a little slurred, and if he hadn’t been with her all night he’d think she’d been drinking. “Got all m’stuff here, gotta take care of the sheep and the you . Not movin’ out.”

“Just gonna live with me forever, is that it?” His eyelids slip closed, feeling like they weigh a ton.

Ellie fidgets next to him. “Mmhmm. Can build me a house next door. Can stay with you and the sheep. Not goin’ nowhere, ‘kay?”

He’d like that, Joel thinks fuzzily. Ellie in a little house next to his so she’s nearby, independent enough if her and Dina get that serious and Dina’s willing to live out on a sheep ranch.

“Plus,” Ellie mumbles, her words barely coherent, “you’re old. Gotta make sure you don’t break a hip.”

Joel snorts, letting sleep pull him all the way under.

This fucking kid.