Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     The day starts out pretty normal, all things considered. Which is odd, because in retrospect, this was the day that changed everything. This was the explosion that caused the avalanche in which his old life was swept away, buried by churning snows. But right now, at this moment… It's just another day. 

     Joel wakes up before the first rays of sunlight have even begun to seep past the horizon. The room is deathly silent, like usual. He doesn’t use an alarm clock any more. Doesn’t need to. These early mornings have become so much of a routine that he thinks they’ll be embedded in his brain for the rest of his life.  Sitting up, he shivers as the sweat-stains on his shirt press against his skin, cold and damp. He glances at the clock on the nightstand, groggy eyes barely able to decipher the blinking red numbers displayed on the screen: 4:07 . Over four hours of sleep, then. That’s better than usual. 

     Breakfast consists of a piece of toast and a bowl of cereal. He used to cook - pancakes, eggs, hash browns - but there’s not really any point any more. Not when the only person he needs to feed is himself. After eating, he pulls on a new t-shirt, not bothering to change out of the jeans he just slept in. Again, no point. It’s not like anyone would even notice. 

     He drives his old pickup to work. The ride is pretty long, because they’re working on a house on the other side of the city today. Back then, he would have enjoyed this. It gives him more time to think, more time to listen to the radio. But now he just sits in a dazed silence, mind void of any thoughts. A dull buzzing sound reverberates in his right ear. That’s been happening more and more lately. One of the many signs that he’s getting older. 

     The rest of the morning passes by quickly, directly contrasting the numbingly slow pace at which Joel’s mind is working. He goes through the motions of the job without even really thinking about them: take inventory of the headers, measure the support beams, mix concrete for the foundation… It's like a familiar rhythm that he’s danced to a thousand times, and he doesn’t miss a beat. His coworkers are all just as browbeaten and sullen as he is, luckily - he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle any long conversations. 

     It’s during his lunch break, though, that everything becomes not-so-normal. They’ve gotten a lot of work done today, which is a relief, because this house is supposed to be ready for the market in less than a week. He’s just sitting down on the front-porch steps that they finally finished installing, getting ready to eat a turkey sandwich, when he hears an odd sort of squawking sound coming from the front of the property, near the road. It sounds like some kind of deranged chicken or something. Joel looks around, but everyone else is inside the house, too far away to hear. The noise continues, growing wilder and more frenzied by the second. Huh. Joel sighs, setting down his sandwich and standing up. Well, only one way to find out what it was.

     He reaches the front of the property, which runs up against the sidewalk - and immediately sees what the source of the sound is. It’s a small black bird; probably a crow, he decides. And it has somehow managed to get one of its feet stuck in the drying concrete of the wall that runs alongside the sidewalk, which Joel had just finished pouring a few hours ago. The poor thing is flapping around like crazy, squawking its head off as it tries to break free. It had probably landed there at the wrong time, just as the concrete was hardening. Joel sighs again, rubbing his temple. So much for a quiet, peaceful lunch. 

     The thought of leaving the bird doesn’t even cross his mind. He starts looking around for a chisel, which he finds pretty quickly in a nearby toolbag. Picking it up, along with a small hammer, he assesses the situation, trying to determine the best way to do this. The bird is panicking, obviously - but it seems to be tiring itself out, which is good. He doesn’t want to get his eyes pecked out for trying to save its damn life. He places the chisel against the concrete, an inch or so from the bird’s foot. The animal freaks out even more when he approaches, and a few people passing by on the sidewalk give him weird looks, but he ignores them all. He uses the hammer to gently tap at the chisel, driving into the concrete and making it fracture. The method is slow, and tiring, but it seems to be working. After only ten minutes or so of chipping away from various angles, the crow manages to yank its foot free, and it gives him one last frightened squawk before flapping its wings and flying the hell away from there. Joel just shakes his head at its receding form. Well, good riddance he thinks. Let’s hope I still have enough time to eat after saving your sorry ass.  

     He stands, brushing off his jeans, as if they weren’t already coated in mud and paint. But just as he turns to head back to the house, he catches a glimpse of someone watching him out of the corner of his eye. He whips his head around, a little startled - only to see a girl standing there. She looks to be in her early teens, with brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, sporting a faded red sweatshirt. And she’s staring at him with big, curious eyes. She starts suddenly when Joel meets her gaze, cheeks flushing slightly. 

     “Uh, hi.” She says, pulling on her fingers nervously. She steps closer, and Joel can now see that her face is adorned with a whole mess of little cuts and scrapes, most of which look relatively fresh. That seems weird to him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he just raises an eyebrow. 

     “Hi.” He says back. His voice sounds almost as empty as he feels. 

     The girl fidgets a bit more, refusing to meet his eyes, and then she says “...that was, uh, you know… pretty cool. How you helped that little guy, I mean.” 

     Joel just looks at her. He doesn’t really see the point in this conversation, and his only thoughts right now are centered around a certain turkey sandwich that is currently still sitting on the porch. 

     The girl clears her throat, obviously sensing his disinterest. “Anyway… are you the guy who’s fixing this house up? The builder, or whatever?” 

     “Contractor?” Joel says, “Yeah, that’s me. Why’re you interested?”

     “Um…” The girl says, “I’m Ellie - that doesn’t really matter, I guess, but… My uncle sent me to find someone to fix a window in our house. Is that something you guys do?”

      That actually gets Joel interested. More work is never a bad thing. “Sure, yeah. What happened to it?”

     The girl hesitates at that, for some reason. “Someo- er, something got thrown through it. Accidentally.” 

     Joel squints at her, but it doesn’t really seem like his place to press her for information she isn’t willing to share. “Alright then.” He fishes around in his pockets, pulling out a pencil and a piece of paper. He puts something down on the paper, then hands it to her. “I don’t got a business card, sorry, but that’s my number. Give it to your uncle, tell him to call me up. We’ll work something out.”

     The girl - Ellie - stares down at the paper in her hands, eyes wide. “I… um, I don’t know if… I…” She seems really anxious all of a sudden.

     “Relax, kid.” Joel says, “It’s just a phone number. What’s got you so riled up?” 

     Ellie blinks at him. “Uh, I gotta go. Thanks for the help, though.” 

     Before he has a chance to react, she bolts off down the sidewalk, shoving the paper into her pocket as she runs. The sudden departure startles Joel a bit, and he almost calls after her, but there's not any reason to. He gave her his number, after all. If her uncle calls with a job, great. If not… Well, no big deal. So he walks back to the porch, wolfs down his sandwich, and gets back to work. But the interaction plays back and forth in his head for the rest of the day. He tells himself that it wasn’t that weird. He was just awkward around little girls, because no matter how much he tried to forget, they always brought unwanted memories flooding back into his mind. Yes, that was probably all that it was. So he pushes any thoughts of Ellie from his mind and goes about his life like usual. 

     Days pass. Then a week.

      No call comes in. Joel assumes that she must’ve forgotten to show the number to her uncle, or maybe they just decided to go with a different contractor. No big deal. That happens all the time. 

And yet he can’t help but feel disappointed that he’s never going to see her again. Oh well. He’ll make his peace with it. He always does. 

     But then, on day 8 (No, it’s not like he was counting, fuck you) he gets a call out of the blue. It happens at 1:00 in the morning, which is annoying, because that’s when he usually gets his few hours of sleep every night. He sits up in his bed, groggy, and reaches for the phone. 

      His first thought is that he’s gonna kill whatever telemarketer decided to wake him up at this late hour, but when he pushes the handset to his ear, a woman’s voice says “Mr. Miller?” 

      Joel massages his temples and adjusts his grip on the phone. “Yeah, s’me. Who is this?”

     The voice pauses for a moment, then: “Mr. Miller, this is Social Services.” 

     Joel blinks. “Social Services? Like for kids? I’m sorry ma’am, but I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. I don’t have any kids.” His voice cracks on the last part. 

     “I know you don’t Mr. Miller, it’s just…” The voice pauses again. “Do you know anyone by the name of Ellie Williams?”

     Joel stops to think. Something about the name sounds vaguely familiar, like he should recognize it, but he just can’t place it. “Sorry, no. I can’t say that I do.” 

     “Huh.” The woman on the other line says, “That’s odd. She put this number down as her emergency contact, when she was admitted to the hospital. I guess it was just a mistake. Sorry to waste your time, Mr. Miller. I hope you have a good-”

     “Wait!” Something clicks in Joel’s brain, and he jams the phone against his mouth, rushing to stop the call from ending. “Wait! Don’t hang up!” He pauses to catch his breath. “Yes ma’am, I do know Ellie. Just tired, that’s all. You said she’s in the hospital?” 

      “Er… Yeah.” The woman seems caught off guard a little, which is understandable. “She was admitted a few hours ago. There was an incident… You know, it’s probably better if you just get down here right away. I’ll explain everything then. It’s the children’s hospital, up on Cambridge street-”

     “I know the one,” Joel confirms. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He ends the call. 

     His mind finally finishes waking up, and he just sits on his bed stunned. Sure, he had met this kid once , but that hardly even counted as a full conversation. And now… what? Something had happened to her? You know what happened , a voice in his head told him , why the fuck do you think it was Social Services calling?  He doesn't want it to be true, but it is. That's why he agreed to go see her, anyway. Part of him knows that if they were calling him of all people, that meant she really has no one else. But still… He groans, conflicting emotions battling in his heart. But over the chaos of their clashing, two distinct thoughts repeat over and over in his mind: 

      What had he just done? 

     And what was going to happen next?

Chapter Text

     The hospital is very, very bright. Too bright for Joel’s tired eyes, which are still protesting against being open at such a late hour. The place also smells weird: like an odd mix of chemicals and cleaning spray. All in all, his senses feel slightly overwhelmed, and being sleep deprived doesn’t help to dull that sensation. He stumbles up to the front desk, looking so pale and weary it’s a wonder they don’t think that he’s an escaped patient. The lady there smiles at him brightly, though he can see she’s taken aback by his appearance. 

     “Hello.” She says, “What can I help you with today?”

     Joel steadies himself on the counter and takes a quick look around. He’s not sure what he was expecting - a group of uniformed Social Service workers greeting him at the doorway, maybe - but the only other people in the room are an elderly couple sleeping together in the waiting chairs. 

     “Is…” Joel tries to gather his thoughts, “Is there an Ellie here? Ellie, uh…” He blanks on her last name for a second, trying to remember the phone call from only a few minutes ago. “Williams?” He tries.

     The receptionist types something into her computer and clicks the mouse a few times. “Yes, it looks like there is. Room A220. Stable condition, but visitation is still being limited. Can I ask what your relation to Miss Williams is?”

     “Oh. Um…” Joel can’t think of a good answer to that. Friend? Guardian? Random stranger that she’s only ever met fucking once?

     “Mr. Miller?” A voice calls from across the room, saving him. He turns to see a young woman walking towards them. Her voice is instantly recognizable - it’s the same one that spoke to him over the phone. She looks almost as tired as he feels, dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. 

     “Yeah,” Joel says, stepping away from the reception counter. The woman extends a hand, which he shakes. Her grip is strong, he notices. 

     “I’m Marlene, Ellie’s social worker.” The woman tells him. “She’s fine, for now, but… the situation is a little tense. C’mon, I’ll brief you while we walk to her room.”

     She doesn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and disappearing behind a swinging door. Joel hurries to catch up. They’re in the actual patient wing of the hospital now, and Joel can see numerous children in the rooms on either side, all wearing bright white hospital gowns and sleeping on gurneys or beds. Bright walls, doctors, children… It brings back unwanted memories. His heart jolts a little, and he can’t help but wonder for the millionth time what he’s gotten himself into. 

     Marlene starts talking when she’s sure he’s caught up. “As you’re probably aware, Ellie’s been staying with her uncle ever since her parents died. That’s when we first opened a file on her, and I got assigned to her case. I never thought we would need to reopen it, but…” Marlen pauses, rubbing at her forehead. “We still don’t know the details of what happened. Just - it was bad. The neighbors called in a noise complaint yesterday afternoon, and when the police showed up to check it out, the house was a damn nightmare. It’s not clear how long the abuse was going on, and…” Marlene is silent for a second, and Joel realizes that she must blame herself for what happened, at least partially. “Anyway, they have the uncle in custody, and we got a restraining order on him in case he posts bail. So that part’s all worked out.”

     “But Ellie, she’s okay?” Joel can’t help but ask. The familiarity with which he says her name already feels weird to his own ears. 

     “Pretty good, all things considered.” Marlene says. “Face is all scratched up, and she’s got a fracture in her left wrist, plus some cracked ribs… but that’s the extent of it.” A ghost of a smile flickers across her face, oddly out of place given the circumstances. “Actually, her uncle’s in worse shape. She stuck him with a pocketknife during their fight, and he almost bled out on the way to the police station.”

     Joel raises an eyebrow.

     “Anyway,” Marlene continues, “She’s been out cold for a while now, but she was lucid when she first got here, which is how she managed to give us your number. Said you were a friend, but not much else than that.”

     “Haven’t known her for very long,” Joel admits, though he doesn’t go into detail about exactly how short of a time that was. “Didn’t even know much about her situation ‘til now. Just… yeah, a friend.”

     “Well, that’s better than anyone else we can find.” Marlen stops by a door in the hallway. “Here, this is it.” She peers through the window. “Good, it looks like she’s awake now. I gotta go deal with some paperwork up front, but you can go in and talk to her. Just call for a doctor if anything happens.” She turns and leaves abruptly - clearly a habit of hers - and Joel is left staring at the wood paneled door. 

     His heart races, though he doesn’t really know why. He almost calls for Marlene to come back, almost tells her that this is all just a big mistake, that he doesn’t know this kid at all. It wouldn’t be too late. A part of his brain is stuck on before , on her , a time not so long ago in a hospital just like this. But a different part of his brain forces him to grab hold of the handle. And before he can even process what his own body is doing, he’s pushing the door open and walking into the small hospital room. 

     The room is rather spacious, is his first thought. About the same size as his bedroom back in the apartment. It’s pretty sparse, mostly occupied with various medical instruments and monitors.  Blinking red lights send occasional lethargic beeps echoing through the enclosed space. A small TV hangs on the wall, but it’s turned off. And then Joel finally forces his gaze to go to the center of the room, where the hospital bed is. Sure enough, the girl from last week is lying there. Ellie. Her red sweatshirt is gone, replaced by a white hospital gown, and the dental-blue bed sheets are pulled up past her waist. 

     She turns her head to look at him when she hears the door open, and her eyes go wide with recognition. Joel expected a happy smile, or a laugh, or at least a hopeful look when she realized who he was. But instead, the first words out of her mouth are:

     “Oh, fuck.”

     Joel tries not to let the surprise of hearing those words come out of a little girl’s mouth show on his face. He takes a step closer. “Hey, uh… kid.”

     She turns away from him, but he can still see her mouth moving, silently mouthing “ fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” to herself, over and over. 

     “You alright?” Joel’s not sure whether he’s referring to her strange behavior or the serious injuries all over her body. Both, he guesses. 

     Ellie scrunches up her face for a second, then rolls back over to face him. Her eyes are still wide, but this time almost with… fear? 

     “I’m sorry.” Ellie manages, “I’m sorry, mister, uh… contractor. Fuck, this is all my fault. I gave them your phone number - the one you gave me - but I didn’t think… fuck. Oh, fuck, I’m so fucking stupid.”

     Joel resists the urge to say “ language.” Instead he says, “Kid, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

     “Yeah, but…” Ellie presses a hand to her face and groans into it. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess. I just… they wanted a number… and yours was the only one I had… and you seemed nice, with the bird and everything… Oh, god, I’m sorry. I didn’t think they'd actually call .”

     Joel’s about to tell her that she has nothing to be sorry for again, but the door opens back up just then, and Marlene walks in. She casts a quick glance between Joel and Ellie. 

     “Hey,” Joel greets her, “I thought you said you were doing paperwork.”

     “I was.” Marlene looks at him again, but her eyes don’t quite meet his. “But then I got a phone call. Can I talk to you in the hall for a second?”

     “Uh, sure.” Joel says. He casts one more glance at Ellie, who still has a hand over her face, then follows Marlene out the door. She turns to face him as soon as it clicks shut.

     “Ellie’s gonna need to be put with a foster family.” She tells him, getting straight to the point. “She has no actual family left - well, no one that’s fit to care for her. We’re searching for a good home, but in the meantime… I need to ask a favor of you.”

     “You need me to sign for her or something? ‘Cause I don’t know if I’m qualified-”

     “Joel.” Marlene finally meets his gaze, and he realizes that she didn’t call him ‘Mr. Miller’ like she usually did. Her eyes have a weird glint in them. “I need you to take her for a little while.”

     “Take her? As in, like, adopt her?” Joel’s heart skips a beat or two.

     “No, no, nothing as permanent as that.” Marlene assures him. “Just… temporary. Until we can find her a better home.”

     “Oh.” Joel doesn’t really know what to feel. His vision is a little blurry around the edges, and it feels more like he’s living through a dream than reality. “I mean, I… Is that even allowed?”

     Marlene purses her lips. “We’ll have to send a guy out to assess your living situation, and I’ll run a background check. But this is tough, if I’m being honest with you. She literally has no one. So no, it’s not completely by-the-book, but if I don’t find her a place to stay soon, they’ll ship her off to a damn orphanage or something. Please. I don’t know you very well, but you’re my only shot. I’m asking you, I need you to-”

     “I-I’ll do it.” The words slip out before he can even think about stopping them. 

     A relieved sigh escapes Marlene’s mouth, which Joel barely registers because he’s still processing what his own mouth apparently just decided to do without his consent. 

     “Thanks.” Marlene is saying, and she does look grateful. “Well, actually, before you agree to anything, I’m obligated to warn you about her… behavioral issues. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed already, but she doesn’t exactly comply with authority. It won’t be easy to control her.”

     Joel casts a glance over his shoulder. “I think I can handle that.” 

     “Great. Just wanted to make sure.” Marlene looks slightly less tired now. “Well, why don’t you break the news to her? I really gotta get on that paperwork now.”

     And so he’s left yet again by himself, staring at the same wooden door. This time it takes less hesitation for him to go in. 

     As soon as he steps into the room, Joel can tell Ellie has a speech prepared. She’s propped up on an elbow, looking at him, and she starts speaking as soon as he steps through the doorway. 

     “Okay,” She says, talking quickly. “I’ve been thinking, and here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna tell them that this is all just a misunderstanding. I’ve never met you, you’ve never met me. I just… misspelled the number I meant to write down. Stupid mistake, that’s all. And then you can go back home, and we can forget that any of this ever-”

     “Kid.” Joel cuts her off. “Quit it. I ain’t leaving you. In fact…” He takes a breath. “You’re gonna be staying with me for a little while.”

     “What?” Ellie doesn’t seem comforted by that news. “Fuck, they made you agree to that? You don’t have to say yes, you know. They can’t force you to do anything. That’s, like, illegal, or some shit. I think.”

     Joel can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes with his next breath. “Nobody’s forcing me to do anything. I agreed to it all on my own. And nobody’s forcing you to do nothin’ either. You only gotta come with me if you want to.”

     Ellie narrows her eyes, processing, and it takes a moment for her to speak again. She looks suspicious, like she thinks he has a hidden motive or something. “Why?” Her meaning is clear.

     Joel sucks in a sharp breath. “‘Cause it’s the right thing to do, I guess.” That’s not the whole truth. Not at all. But it’s the best explanation he can give her at the moment, because he doesn’t know how to put the rest of it into words. Doesn’t even know if there are words for what’s happening right now. It doesn’t make any sense. Everything is moving so quickly, threatening to sweep him off of his feet. “Um, I’m gonna go now. I need to talk to Marlene, figure out the details. You stay here and… rest. Think about my offer, okay?”

     Her eyes widen slightly, surprised, as if she hadn’t actually thought Joel was serious about her having a choice in the matter. 

     He turns to leave, but she stops him before he reaches the door. “Hey, mister-contractor-dude?”

     Joel stops, turning around awkwardly. “Joel.”

     “Joel.” Ellie repeats, mulling the name over. “Thanks. For… you know.” There’s still a suspicious sort of look in her eyes, like she doesn’t really trust him, but Joel doesn’t mind. It only makes sense, for a kid in her position. 

     “Yeah, kid.” Joel replies softly as he opens the door. “No problem.”