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Chapter Text

Everything is red.

It's on the floor, on her jeans, staining her hands and stuck under her nails. Her hair is matted with it, dyed dark and crusted, the metallic stench of it biting in her nose. 

Blood. 

There's blood everywhere. 

Ellie looks around, carnage in every corner. The golf club slips from between her red-slick fingers, clattering to the ground. 

Blood. Death. Faces that aren't faces anymore. Bodies twisted.

She tries to breathe, can't get enough air into her lungs. She doesn't remember killing them, but she must have. That woman with the braid down her back and her team, strewn across the floor in heaps of bloodied clothes. Everything red. 

Her mind flashes to that golf club in a hand that isn't her own, beating down. Joel's voice. "I'm sorry." Ellie's own cry of horror. Then silence. 

Everything else is a blur, bleeding together into this mess of red. 

Her heart stops when her gaze catches on a familiar leather jacket. She staggers forward, feet slipping on the wet ground. She sinks to her knees, fingers trembling as she reaches for him. Hot tears sting in her eyes, drawing trails through the dried crust of red splattered on her face. Blood seeps through his clothes, too fast.

They're all bleeding around her, but she can't let him do it too. He's bleeding out, and it makes no difference, she knows it makes no difference to a dead man, but the thought of his blood mixing with theirs makes her sick, her stomach turning as she presses her hands to a gash in his side, watching the rivulets worm their way through her fingers and drip to the floor. She can't stop it, she can't do anything right. 

"No", she cries, watching helplessly as the stream swells, gushing through her fingers and over her legs to form a puddle in the center of the room. "No, no, no-"

Everything is red. Rivers of it run from the bodies in the room, coming together and climbing higher, sloshing along the walls. She can't move, can't take her hands from his body as it rises to her waist, her chest. She's going to drown.

Everything is red. Her hands, her clothes, the walls. It's only a matter of time until it'll swallow her whole too. She has to run, but she can't leave him. She won't leave him. 

It's up to her throat now. She's never learned to swim. Maybe he could have taught her, if she'd been faster. If she'd been better. If she'd saved him. Maybe she deserves to drown.

"I'm sorry", Ellie echoes as she feels it climb past her chin and slosh into her mouth. "I'm sorry." 

And then everything is red. 

Chapter Text

Ellie wakes in a cold sweat, gasping for air.

The smell of iron still sticks in her nose. When she looks down, her hands are clean. They don't feel clean. They'll never be clean again.

The water scorches her skin when she holds her trembling hands under the faucet, but that's fine, she knows pain, maybe it'll burn some of that red away that still sticks to her every cell. She scrubs until her hands feel raw, picks at her nails until they break and tear in the corners. New blood covering the old. It's all fine when it's her own blood instead of theirs. Instead of his.

She turns the water off, stares into the mirror. Her hair is messy, a few strands escaped from her pony tail. She pulls out the tie, careless of the tangled hair ripping out in the process, retying it with a few well-practised motions. Her hands are sweaty when she rests them on the edge of the sink, the smooth surface cold against her singed palms.

Ellie closes her eyes and breathes. One, two, three heartbeats.

When she opens her eyes, her face is splattered with red, blood dripping from her mouth. She staggers back, looks again. She's clean. As clean as water can get her, anyway. That's worse, somehow. She retches, spitting into the sink. No blood. But the taste in her mouth lingers. Another breath, one, two, three.

"Fuck." Ellie rubs her eyes, drives a hand through her hair. Water is never going to get her clean enough.

But it doesn't matter. She doesn't matter.

Ellie turns, holding onto the sink as she braces herself to look over to the other corner of the room.

There's a bed, and on the bed-

Ellie exhales. He's there. He's still there. Every day, she wakes up from nightmares, terrified he won't be there when she turns to look.

But he's always there. And that's all that matters.

~oOo~

There's brain swelling, the doctors say.

Extreme physical trauma, maybe hairline fractures in the skull.

Hearing impaired even more, possibly lost completely on the right side.

Flesh wound to the right shoulder.

Ribs broken.

Kneecap severely fractured. Surgery success unclear.

Bruising all over. Acute blood loss.

The list goes on.

Ellie has it all ingrained in her mind.

Sometimes, she can't seem to remember what's real, a memory, and what's just a figment of her dreams. It's hard, when reality is a nightmare itself.

The golf club, that was real. All the people she killed. Joel motionlessly on the floor, bleeding through her fingers. She's pretty sure there hadn't been any rivers of red threatening to drown her, though. She can't be sure, but that doesn't seem right.

If there had been- Joel did teach her to swim, she remembers that now. She hadn't remembered, in her dream. But she remembers now.

She remembers dragging Joel away. Into a car. Someone helping her. Tommy, she was pretty sure. Yeah, Tommy had been there. Dina, too, she thinks.

She remembers doctors swirling around her, assessing Joel's various injuries. She remembers people telling her to get out of the way, Maria sending her to get cleaned up, but she had refused to leave him. They still try now, every day, come by to make her eat and sleep and offer to look over him while she takes a break, but she's not having any of it. She can't. She can't let him out of her sight, something terrible is going to happen if she does, she just knows.

Maybe he'll stop breathing. Maybe he'll vanish altogether. Maybe she'll wake up and realize all this has been one terrible nightmare, one beautiful dream, and she'll wake up to a world where she wasn't there in time to stop them from killing him right there.

She remembers staggering towards the bed when the doctors left, blood still drying on her clothes, stuck deep under her nails. She'd had no words, then. Just stood there, staring at the mess her world had become in the span of a single afternoon.

Just like on that first day, Ellie leans her hands on the edge of the mattress, lets her head sink, hanging forward between her shoulders as she struggles to breathe.

"Joel. Joel, please." She opens her eyes, lifts her head. "You can't do this to me", she says, hearing the anger in her own voice, steadying her enough to hide the pain and paralysing fear underneath. "There's too much- so much stuff I haven't told you yet. I got too much to say to you, you fucking asshole, so don't even think of dying on me, you hear? You are not going to die", Ellie says, gripping his arm. "If you die, I swear I'm gonna fucking kill you, I-"

Her breath catches, tears stinging in her eyes as she takes in his bruised chest, bandages wrapped around his broken ribs. His busted knee, the patch on his head where skin and hair are missing. She's seen people beaten and cut down to complete disfiguration, limbs severed, faces bashed in until they lost any human form. Still, this feels like the worst sight she ever laid eyes on.

"Joel." Her hand wanders to find his, clinging tightly as her voice breaks. "Fuck. Joel. Don't-" She can barely breathe, her knuckles white. She sinks down next to his bed, a tear escaping the corner of her eye. "Please", Ellie whispers. "Please. Don't leave me alone."

~oOo~

Ellie falls asleep at his bedside, refuses to leave the room. Days pass. She has her fingers entwined with Joel's, listens to his shallow breathing. She counts the grey hairs he's grown, he's never looked so old, so breakable, but all she can think about is whether he'll get the time for that grey to grow even more.

It's terrifying, seeing him like this. He's not supposed to be like this. He's always strong, always unyielding. Safe.

She's lost track of time. Her hair is in a messy pony tail, tangled and loose. She can't remember the last time she's washed it. She can't remember the last time she could focus on anything that isn't whether Joel is still breathing.

She has trouble sleeping, scared something will happen while she's out, that she'll wake up and his hand won't be warm in her tight grip anymore. But exhaustion claims her anyway, and she wakes up with an ache in her neck and straining fingers.

Her dreams are a mess of red, the phantom feeling of a golf club in her hand. Sometimes it turns into a butcher's knife, the blood-red walls on fire and his hot breath in her neck. Those ones leave her even worse than the others, the only thing that'll stop the trembling is climbing into Joel's bed, fitting herself against his solid frame and breathing in the familiar scent of him. She imagines he'd be here to hold her, tries desperately to recall the sound of his voice telling her that she's safe. "It's okay, babygirl. I got you."

It feels wrong to crave comfort like that. That's not what they are. That's not for her to ask for. Never was. Certainly not now. Maybe David was right.

You have a violent heart.

Violent hearts aren't made to be loved. Murderers don't get happy endings.

Maybe she should've drowned in that sea of red. Maybe that would've been better for everyone. But she didn't. She's here, clinging to Joel's wrinkled flannel, with this desperate clawing thing in her chest that wants nothing more than to have him open his eyes, to be held and comforted, to be lied to and told that it'll all be okay, to be called babygirl in that soft tone that doesn't feel like it was meant for her.

Does she deserve Joel's gentleness? It feels weird to admit that she wants it. But Joel must know how dark it really is inside her, maybe he was scared of it just like she is. He was scared for her, she knows that, but was he scared of her too? Is that fear the only reason why he kept her around?

She'd wanted people to be scared of her, at FEDRA school, to fear her and hide the scared little girl inside. She's never wanted to let that guard down before, before Joel, but what if he doesn't like what he sees? He talks about Sarah like she's an angel, but Ellie is not like that. She's tainted red all over.

Love is red, too. She never told him. She's terrified to tell him, terrified she'll never get the chance.

Dad, she thinks, deep down in the silent secrecy of her mind where it's safe and hidden. Please.

They're not like that. He's all that to her, but they don't do that. Joel can't- shouldn't love her like that. Violent hearts aren't made to be loved.

She always knew she was just going to hurt him, get him killed too, just like Riley, and Tess, Henry and Sam. People die around her, everywhere she goes. He's here, breathing, battered and broken, just a shell kept alive by the shallow up and down of his chest. How long before that rhythm stops?

I'm scared of ending up alone.

She loses everyone she cares about one way or another, everyone she loves, and she has never loved or needed anyone as much as Joel, he's her safe place in a world that only brings danger and violence, but what if she's the thing that brings violence into Joel's world?

Doctors come in and out. There isn't much more they can do. She's yelled and screamed and cursed about it. Didn't change anything. They did what they could. All she can do is wait. Fucking useless.

He's lost so much blood. She wanted to give him some, but they're not the same blood type. Of course they're not. Maybe they would be if she were his daughter, but she's not. She's not.

He's lost so much blood. So much blood running through her fingers. Ellie wipes her hands on her jeans. It doesn't help.

He's stilI. Too still. But his chest lifts and falls, and that has to be enough.

Chapter Text

Dina comes to visit, sometimes just to check in with a look of pity she can't quite hide, sometimes to sit next to her in silence for a while. It's from a place of worry and empathy, Ellie knows that. It's not what she wants to see on people's faces, but it's better than those who only have empty words to offer. 

"Hey", Dina says, pulling off her coat. 

"Hey." 

Dina sits down beside her, doesn't ask her to talk, doesn't ask her to do anything. That's what makes it easy for Ellie to give in, to release some of the tension her body seems to be carrying constantly now, like she's stuck in fight or flight mode every second of every day. But there's nothing to fight when Dina is with her, nowhere to run, and Ellie forces her shoulders to relax, to lean into the offered hug with a sigh. 

They don't talk much. There's nothing to say. Everything she could say would be either meaningless or too soon. Dina knows that, and Ellie loves her even more for it.

So they just sit, Dina's hand drawing soothing circles on Ellie's back as she leans into her side. It's a quiet sort of comfort, maybe the only sort of comfort Ellie can take right now, and it helps, if only for a little while.

Tommy and Maria come every day, reminding her that her own body is not confined to a hospital bed, that she needs to eat, sleep, take a shower.

"You gotta take care of yourself", they say. They don't get it. They mean well, but they don't get it. She is taking care of herself. Taking care of Joel is the best she can do to take care of herself.

"He needs me", she says.

She doesn't care that she can't actually do anything. What she really means is I need him, but she can't say that.

"And you're doing a good job", Maria says, too soft, like Ellie is some kind of wounded animal. "But-"

"No."

She doesn't need them to remind her how useless she is, how her time would be spent better elsewhere.

They mean well. She knows they do. She snaps at them anyway, and they take her unwarranted anger, her petulant words, and they leave her be, because they're good people, not like her. They still come every day, but she barely listens.

Her eyes catch on her backpack next to the table in the corner, lingering on a pin with a spaceship. There are no more rocket starts, no more dinosaurs in hats. Only these four walls in cold white, a bed with a body almost as cold and white as the walls.

"You're no good to him starving and exhausted", Tommy finally says, ripping her back, and that's when she listens, nods. She chokes down a dry piece of toast under their watchful eyes, pulls the blanket over her head to await the nightmares.

~oOo~

She talks to him a lot. The doctors say he probably doesn't hear, but that's okay. The words are for her at least as much as they are for him.

"Look, Joel." She waves a tattered book in front of him. "Will Livingston is back! Told you he would be."

She flips through the pages, scanning for something stupid that would gain her a reluctant smirk if he were here, the way he's supposed to be.

"Why couldn't the pony sing in the choir? He was a little horse!" Ellie grins. "Yeah, you'd hate that one. 'Two out of ten'", she badly mimics his gruff voice.

Fuck, she misses it. Ellie quickly swallows the lump in her throat. He's not gonna see her fucking cry over a pun book.

"Okay, let's see." She clears her throat. "I wasn't originally going to get a brain transplant", she reads. "But then I changed my mind."

Ellie cringes.

"Shit", she says, smiling awkwardly at his motionless face, the dressing around his head. The doctors had removed the catheter there not too long ago, entering through a small hole behind Joel's ear to drain the fluid from the skull cavity and reduce his brain swelling. "Too soon, huh. Sorry 'bout that."

There's a lock of hair that has fallen over the bandage and into his forehead. She reaches out, brushes it away.

"There you go", she mutters. "All pretty again. Gotta look our best for visitors, right?"

There's no answer, no eye-roll, no aggravated grunt or sarcastic reply. Of course there isn't.

She doesn't know how to live in a world without it all.

It's always been so fucking infuriating. She loves it. Loved it. Loved trying to crack the surface and get to one of those rare smiles she likes to pretend Joel saves just for her.

There hadn't been much reason to smile when they'd first met. But they'd made it anyway. And he'd hated her, at first, but then he'd secured a seat-belt around her in the car, he'd ask her to read shitty puns to him, he'd told her about the scar on his right temple.

The guy who shot and missed. She can't possibly imagine her life if he hadn't flinched and missed.

Ellie reaches out, gently brushes the tips of her fingers over that very same scar on his head. He'd flinched for a reason. She knows it. It'd be a fucking cliché to say she's that reason, but it sounds nice in her own head anyway. And she loves that scar. Always used to remind her that he was supposed to be here, with her.

That scar can't lose its meaning now, it can't. What would be the fucking point of all that, then?

There's still so much they haven't said, haven't done.

She has wasted so much time being angry at him. She had every right to be, he'd been the one to drive this unbearable rift between them with his lies. She'd pulled away to protect herself, yes, but it had been to punish him, too. She'd pulled away further and further, into a garage and out of his orbit, so far she suddenly hadn't known how to haul herself closer again.

But she thought she'd have time. She thought there would be time to figure it all out.

There was supposed to be fucking time.

They were supposed to mend things. 

Ellie's hands tremble against his skin.

He's supposed to fucking be here, goddammit.

"What about your sheep?", she hears herself whisper. "You never got to have your sheep. It's not fair, Joel. What if I wanted to live with you on that boring-ass farm with your stupid sheep? Hm?"

Ellie lets her fingers drift higher, carding through his hair as if he could actually feel her there. Joel liked to stroke her hair after she'd woken up from a nightmare, back when she'd scream in her sleep every night after Silver Lake, back when everything was still right between them.

"When you wake up, we're gonna do that, yeah?"

When, she says. Not if.

If is not an option in Ellie's book.

"Were gonna get boring sheep, and spend boring days, doing boring stuff. Yeah? It'll be great, I promise."

I'll follow you anywhere you wanna go.

"Oh, we still haven't watched that shitty movie you like, either", Ellie smiles, her throat tight. "Something with a snake, right? Viper? We're gonna do that, too", she says, like promises still have any value in a broken future. "You'd like that, right? Joel?"

There's no answer.

There never is.

~oOo~

Dina brought the guitar over. Ellie had asked her to, days ago. She hasn't managed to touch it since.

She recalls the day Joel had given it to her. Things hadn't been great between them, then. It only got worse from there.

She recalls the song he sang for her. The first song she ever learned to play. He had smiled when she showed him, she'd been so proud to get all the chords right, and he'd been patting her shoulder like he was proud, too.

Her journal lies open on the little table in the corner. Words scribbled in ink that feel like they'd been written in blood.

Ellie looks over at the guitar.

Harmonies in blood.

Her fingers twitch, knowing just what strings to press to play their song. If she plays it now, is the red on her hands going to taint it, just like the rest of her?

Is her touch going to taint Joel, too?

But Joel is red already, isn't he, always was. She knows that all Joel had wanted to do is protect her from the world's horrors, only to be scared to death that he can't protect her from his own violence. But she has seen the world's violence and turned to Joel, because she's seen Joel's violence too, but Joel's violence is her safe place.

Joel's hands have been destructive, red all over, but they were always gentle when they were wiping the blood from her face.

Would he notice, if he woke up? Would he notice his own red had mixed with hers?

Maybe he doesn't want to wake up.

If he leaves her, at least he'll be with Sarah again, away from this hell, away from pain and loss and the touch of her red-stained hands.

Ellie grabs the guitar.

Guitar strings with iron sound brighter. Harmonies in blood. Her voice is hoarse and cracked as it echoes in the room, frail like the touch of his hand in hers.

She knows the words by heart, knows the look of them written on the first page of her journal.

In the corner, her journal lies, ink bleeding.

Wounds break open as I sing.

~oOo~

She startles awake, groaning as her neck aches. That's what falling asleep in a chair will get you, but pain is an old friend, almost a comfort, and isn't that just all kinds of fucked-up?

Ellie slowly turns her head, presses her fingers into the sore muscle where her neck meets her shoulder.

Her guitar lies next to her chair, warm wood against the cold tiled floor.

There's a twitch against her palm. A fleeting brush, a second and it's gone.

All pain is forgotten as she jumps to her feet, fingers clinging tighter as her eyes snap up to his face.

He still looks pale and grey, frail, but his eyes flutter, opening the tiniest bit.

"J-Joel?" Ellie feels her voice break, tears springing to her eyes as his mouth twitches.

"Hey there, babygirl."

It's only a rough, barely audible breath, but it cracks her open, sobs ripping out of her as she collapses on his chest, careful of his bandaged ribs. She's supposed to hate him, but it doesn't matter, nothing matters as she crawls up until she can fit herself next to him on the mattress and bury her face in his neck, clinging to the ugly hospital gown he's wearing.

A hand slowly drags up her back and into her greasy hair, settling in the nape of her neck. He doesn't say anything, doesn't move anymore, and his hand is a slack weight where it rests on her, weak and exhausted, but it's there, it's grounding.

And it's enough, it's barely anything but it's so much, and Ellie lets the tension of days of fear bleed out of her in hot tears and ragged breaths.

He's alive.

He's alive.

Chapter Text

"I'm alive."

Ellie huffs out a weak breath against his neck. 

"Yeah."

"How?"

Red hands, Ellie thinks. Rivers to drown in. 

"Does it matter?" she says.

Don't ask. She swallows, holds her breath. Don't ask, not now, I'll tell you at some point, when all that red doesn't make me want to claw my own skin off anymore, don't fucking ask-

"No", Joel says, and Ellie relaxes against him.

"No", she repeats.

The clock in the corner of the room ticks quietly, a monotonous sound Ellie is intimately familiar with. She's listened to it for hours, silently waiting at his bedside, scared of what every new tick might bring. She presses her ear more closely to Joel's chest, listening to the soothing rhythm of his heart instead. A heart that's still beating because of the red on her hands.

"Y-You're here." His voice is weak, wavering. The hand in her hair makes a feeble attempt to burrow deeper, his nails scratching lightly over her scalp.

Ellie squeezes her eyes closed. The pain of him not expecting her to be here hits like a bullet, because of course she's here, where fucking else would she possibly be, but she's been doing her damndest to avoid him for so long and now-

"I'm here", Ellie says. And I'm sorry. You should never have to doubt that I'd be here. I'm so sorry.

Silence. The ticking of the clock. The thumping of Joel's heart, the cadence that promises her he's alive. 

Joel releases a shaky breath above her, and her eyes sting with tears she's determined not to show.

There's so much unspoken lingering around them, so many things she'd told herself she'd say if he ever wakes up, but her tongue feels too heavy in her mouth, her hands too clumsy to move. She's too scared to open her eyes.

But his hand is in her hair, holding her, almost like he thinks she'll disappear if he doesn't keep holding her in place. It hurts, in the best and worst of ways.

Ellie breathes, and lets a silent tear trail down her nose.

~oOo~

The doctors are cautiously optimistic.

There's so much healing his body has to do, so much that's probably never gonna recover completely.

His knee is fucked, for one. Ellie sees the way Joel's jaw sets, hardening in that dangerous way when they tell him even physical therapy will leave him with a limp if he's lucky. He opens his mouth, but Ellie grabs his hand, slots her fingers between Joel's the same way she'd done when he'd been dying at Silver Lake, the same way she'd done when he was bleeding out in that lodge. He looks at their hands, looks at her, his face softening as he lets the doctors talk.

The relief on Tommy's face when he steps into the room softens the blow of any gloomy medical news, and Ellie retreats to her little table in the corner, leaves them space while she scribbles into her journal. 

"Look who's awake!" Dina smiles so brightly at Joel it'd put the damn sun to shame. "Gonna be up and running again in no time", she says with a wink.

"Up, yeah", he says, even though Ellie knows damn well he can barely move as of yet. "Don't know about the runnin' part, though." He says it like a joke, smiling for Dina, but Ellie can tell there's something dark underneath. She knows all about the darkness underneath.

Dina hugs Ellie tightly, her lighthearted smiles turning serious as she rests her chin on Ellie's shoulder, telling her without words that she knows this isn't over, that she knows Ellie will need time before there'll be space in her days for anything other than Joel getting better.

"It's okay", Dina whispers in her ear, pulling her closer, "I'll be here when you want. And I'll wait." Ellie doesn't fucking deserve her. She presses her face into Dina's neck and nods in silent thanks, and Dina kisses her cheek before she leaves. 

More people come to visit after that, but it's never for long. They all have their duties here in Jackson, and Joel's never been the most outgoing guy anyway. They're alone more than they're not, and it's hard, even though Ellie had prayed to every God there is for him to get through this, it's still hard to be thrown into his presence like into cold water, after so much time fleeing from it.

She can't figure out if she's glad or not that Joel's healing body needs so much rest and sleep. Whenever he's asleep, her mind replays the images of that first day he'd spent in this hospital bed, and all she can see is open skin, slack jaw, insides out.

But when he's not asleep, there's so much silence to fill. Ellie knows exactly what words fit into those empty spaces, but she can't seem to find them. 

Joel doesn't bring it up, either. 

None of it.

Not Abby. Not the Fireflies. Not the hospital.

Not the lies. Not the months of distance. Not the sudden switch in the way Ellie has gone from moving out into a fucking garage in order to avoid him, to blatantly refusing to leave the same room, never letting Joel out of her sight, no matter how much he, or anyone, might urge her to. 

He doesn't even ask about the red on her hands.

Ellie isn't sure if she wants him to. 

They have to talk. She knows they have to talk about so many thing, should have talked ages ago. She knows that. But she's no good with words, and Joel...Joel is even worse.

Ellie can't keep her hands still.

She has to keep busy, has to keep her mind from wandering. There's dangerous territory left and right.

He's awake, she tells herself over and over again. He's awake, he's awake, he's awake. It's all that matters.

"Ellie."

"Huh?"

She doesn't turn to look at Joel, keeps her back to him as she orders the gloves, gauze and dressings she's been given to change Joel's bandages when needed. Keep it clean, keep it moist, prevent infection.

The medical staff hadn't argued much when she demanded to take over anything in Joel's care that she could handle- not that she'd given them much of a choice. But Jackson had just survived the attack, they'd had their hands full with the wounded flooding the hospital doors, and Ellie's hands were as good to wipe blood from Joel's wounds as any. 

"Sit down for a second, will you?"

Ellie forces her hands to stay steady.

"I gotta finish this up."

"The nurses can do that", he says, and he's right, but it doesn't matter. They could, but she's been doing this for weeks, it's something she knows she can do right, something she won't mess up like all the rest.

She picks up another piece of gauze.

 "Ellie."

"Fine!" She whirls around, lifting her hands in irritated surrender. "Whatever."

"Hey." Joel's voice is soft now, careful. Like she's a ticking bomb that could go off at any time. Which is fair enough, she's got to admit. So she does as he says for once, sitting down.

"There you go", Joel says, but Ellie doesn't look at him, looks at her hands in her lap, hands that no amount of handling disinfectant will ever clean.

"Did you need something?", she says, watching as she picks at her nails. Tasks are good, tasks are something she can handle, one step at a time. Tasks can make her feel useful. 

Joel is quiet, she can feel his eyes on her, knows the frown she'd find on his face if she were to look up.

"Are you okay?" he says then. 

Ellie falters. She's not gonna do this. There's no way.

"Am I okay?" she repeats disbelievingly, her gaze lifting to his bruised and swollen face.

I'm not the one who's confined to a fucking hospital bed after a game of fucking golf with my head as the ball.

"Yeah", she says. "Yeah, sure, I'm good."

"Ellie-"

"Joel."

He sighs.

"I just mean-"

"Can we not do this now?" she snaps, more forceful than she'd meant to. Fuck. Ellie takes a calming breath. "Please. I can't- Just don't, okay?"

Joel doesn't look happy, but he nods. She knows he isn't gonna let it go, and maybe he shouldn't, but none of this is right, none of this is how things were supposed to go when he woke up, she's fucking it all up again already and she just doesn't know how to do any of this and-

"You don't gotta be here, y'know", he mutters. 

"What?" The fuck is that supposed to mean? "Yeah, I do."

"It's fine, Ellie." Joel gives her a soft, strangely pained look. "You don't gotta babysit me, that's not your job. You shouldn't have to-"

Ah. She sees where this is going, and fuck that.

"Shut up, Joel."

"I don't want you to feel like-"

"I said shut the fuck up, Joel!"

Fucking hell, this is a mess. Ellie drives a hand through her hair with a sigh.

"Okay, listen up", she says. "Here's what's gonna happen. You are gonna keep your ass in that bed until the doctors say otherwise. You're gonna do what they say, and you're gonna get better. That's it. Got it? You ain't gonna worry about anything else."

Least of all me. I'm not worth it.

"And I'm gonna be here", she says, cause that was never up for debate, "whether you want me to or not. I'm gonna do this, Joel, and you're gonna fucking let me."

He doesn't say anything for a long time, just looks at her, until she can't fucking take it anymore, because what if he's the one who doesn't actually want her around? What if he's gonna send her away? What if she's making it worse for him by being here? 

Her blood rushes too loudly in her ears. 

"Just let me do this."

Please, she thinks. I need this. Can't you tell that I need this?

"Okay", he finally says. Nothing more. 

Ellie exhales.

"Okay."

She's gotta figure this out. 

~oOo~

"Hey, Joel?"

It's dark outside, Joel's body a black shape against the white walls from where Ellie is curled up on a thin mattress on the floor.

"Mhm?"

"What did the police do about the man who's stealing wheels off the police cars?", she says quietly, waiting with baited breath. 

"What?", Joel's voice says.

"They worked tirelessly to catch him."

There's a chuckle from the bed, deep and genuine. It makes Ellie's lips form a smile and her chest ache.

"Okay", Joel says, "okay, that one's actually decent. Solid seven outta ten."

Ellie grins, clicking on the flashlight under her blanket and scanning the page.

"What did the grape say when it was crushed?"

"Nothing", Joel answers, a smile hiding in his voice. "It just let out a little wine."

"You fucker!" Ellie snaps up straight on her mattress, staring over to where Joel has done his best to turn onto his side to face her. "I swear you've read these!"

"Nope." He shrugs, and it's a clumsy movement, careful not to pull any bandages, but his eyes are smiling. 

Ellie looks at him suspiciously, and the way his mouth twitches doesn't help to convince her he isn't bullshitting her, but she decides to let it go for now.

"Hm." Ellie lifts an eyebrow. "I'll be watching you, old man."

He visibly tries to hide his smile, and Ellie feels warm for the first time in forever. 

"Why shouldn't you trust stairs?", she reads. "Because they're always up to something!"

Joel groans, shaking his head.

"That was terrible."

"Shut up, that's actually a good one."

"Two out of ten at best."

"You tell a better one, then."

His hair has grown longer while he's been in the hospital. It falls into his forehead, streaked with grey. She loves that grey. 

"Okay", Joel says, pulling her focus back. "Okay, I got one. Prepare to be amazed."

He clears his throat. He's such a fucking drama queen, and Ellie missed this so much it hurts. She missed him. Misses him. 

"Did you hear the owner of IKEA was made king of Sweden?", Joel says. "Yeah, he's still assembling his cabinet."

He looks at her with expectantly raised eyebrows, waiting for her reaction, but Ellie just gives him a weird look.

"What?", he says, face falling. "Come on, that's great."

"Sure." Ellie smiles wryly, amused at his offended tone. "Just...what the fuck is an eye-key-ah?"

"Shit." Joel laughs, wincing about his broken ribs and grimacing apologetically. "Course you wouldn't know that. Sorry, kiddo. Some big Swedish furniture store where you had to put together your own stuff, wood boards and screws'n all that", he explains. "So, see? King, assembling his cabinet- I swear if you get it it's hilarious."

"Sure." Ellie can't hide the grin. "Whatever."

She can see him smiling back at her, and it's so light and easy in that moment, it almost feels like it was between them before.

Before.

Fuck. Something must have shown on her face, because suddenly Joel isn't smiling like that anymore, his shoulders stiff. 

The stretching silence turns tense rather than being the mutually shared comfort of seconds ago, spreading in the room, thick and tenacious.

Joel clears his throat.

"We should- uhm." He shifts restlessly. "Probably go to sleep. It's pretty late."

"Yeah", she says, too quickly. "Yeah, you're right. Let's-"

It's quiet for a moment as they both settle down, Ellie lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. 

"Thanks", Joel's voice carries over to her in the dark. "For the laughs. I needed that."

Ellie takes a deep breath.

"You're welcome."

She lies awake for a long time after that, long after Joel's breathing has deepened into the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. 

~oOo~

A groan from the bed makes Ellie look up. She sets down her pen, quickly flips the journal shut.

"Hey, you okay? You need anything?"

"No. No, just-" Joel winces. "The leg acting up."

"You want me to give you a new dose of meds?" Ellie gets up, walking over to his bed. "Last one's been long enough, they might be wearing off."

"Not yet. It's not that bad."

"Joel." She can tell from his face that he's determined and she sighs. Stubborn ass. She knows there's no point in arguing, she knows cause they're the goddamn same that way. "Your cut is bleeding again", she says instead, noticing the scab has chipped off again on his left ear. There's a little piece of his ear missing, too. It makes the rage flare up in Ellie every time she sees it. 

It's all scabbed over now, all the little wounds scattered across his body, healing slowly and steadily. But this one has been giving them trouble, reopening again and again any time Joel seems to fucking move. 

"It's fine-"

"It's not fine, dumbass. Just wait a second-"

She grabs a bowl, fills it with clean water from the faucet, the gauze she always keeps prepared. Setting it on the nightstand next to his bed, she pulls the chair closer. 

"There. Let me look."

He complies without complaint, this time, barely flinching when Ellie dabs at the open cut even though she knows it has to hurt. She cleans away dried blood, applies the salve the hospital staff gave her for disinfection or whatever this one does. It's comforting, to have a routine to follow, a series of practiced motions that keep her hands busy and her focus straight. 

"There", she says, dropping the bloodied cloths in the bowl. "Done." 

Joel's eyes follow her when she pulls back to grab the supplies. He can open both eyes again now, even if one is still surrounded by blacks and blues. The swelling in his face has gone down, a scab from a cut on his eyebrow is healing. It's honestly a miracle Abby had only broken his nose and nothing else. 

"Thanks", he says. He does it every time, and she's tired of trying to make him stop, so she takes it, gives him a shrug and a second of a smile. 

"How's- uhm. How are things with Dina?"

Ellie lifts an eyebrow.

"Seriously? Joel, you don't gotta do that."

"What? I can't ask about important things in your life?"

Ellie tilts her head.

"I mean you can, it's just..." 

For a second she thinks he's going to reach for her, his hand twitching, fingers lifting, but he doesn't. They haven't touched much after that day he woke up and she'd basically crawled into him, now it's mostly just to take care of whatever needs taken care of. She's noticed before, that he doesn't seem to want to touch her. Is it because of all these things between them, forcing a rift too wide to cross over? Or is it because of the red stains all over her?

"Sorry", Joel says. "If you don't want me to ask, I'll stop. You don't gotta tell me."

"No." Ellie shakes her head. She does want him to ask, that's the thing. She wants him to ask, she wants him to care, but she doesn't know how to be like this with him anymore, she doesn't know how to go back. They gotta try though, right?

"It's fine", Ellie says. "Honestly. Just not much to tell. We kissed at the dance, she was high as fuck though, didn't think it meant anything. But maybe it did, I don't know. Didn't really get to find out. All this..." She nods in his direction. "...happened. So."

Joel hums. "You like her, though?"

Ellie wrings her fingers, looking at her feet.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You could do worse. Dina's great."

He's really terrible at this. Ellie is kind of glad, at least they're both obviously fucking clueless what they're doing. It's strangely comforting. 

"Thanks?" She smiles, amused, and Joel gives her a look she would almost call fond. 

"Okay", he says, clearing his throat and releasing her with a wave of his hand. "Off you go. Not gonna torture you any further, I promise." 

Ellie grins, rolling her eyes.

"Hey." Joel smiles softly. "Thank you", he says, too gentle, too genuine. "For telling me."

Goddammit. 

Ellie nods, turning away before any kind of emotion can overwhelm her. It's honestly pathetic how much she craves this, how a single soft look and kind word can set her off now, after she'd spent hours and hours terrified that she'd never get to talk to him again at all. And she wants to give in, she does, but there's still something inside her that hasn't quite forgiven him - for the hospital, for the lies, for still being there no matter how hard she pushed him away. For almost dying.

Fuck, they're such a mess. They're not talking about the stuff they need to talk about, but at least they're talking. Trying, anyway. She just wishes everything didn't hurt this much. Maybe that's just what life is for her.

She picks up her journal, flicks to the newest page. Ellie sighs. If only talking to Joel was as easy as pouring her thoughts and feelings onto those pages, maybe everything would be different, then. But it doesn't work that way. 

These words in her journal, in her heart, those are words Joel will never see. 

Chapter Text

Ellie's steps echo down the hospital hallway.

Lunch with Dina had been nice. She was pretty glad she'd finally given in after Joel's insistent and, frankly, really fucking tiresome nudging that she should go out and be with her friends more, because apparently she 'needs to have a life' or whatever.

"I won't run away while you're gone, promise", he'd said, something teasing in the curl of his lips. So it seemed they had officially entered the joking territory of their trauma processing now. Neat.

"As if you could", Ellie had said, making Joel snort.

"Go on", he'd said then, soft and serious, "have fun. Give Dina my best. At least one of us gotta leave this room, and then you tell me all about it later so I can live vicariously through you. I'm seriously starting to forget what a fucking tree even looks like."

So dramatic.

Ellie smiles to herself as she approaches Joel's door, ready to push it open when agitated voices from inside make her pause, listening.

"-think I don't know that?" she hears Joel's voice through a gap in the door. "She shouldn't've had to do any of this, Tommy. This was all on me, and it's not like I didn't deserve it, too. I didn't even try to get outta there. I was sure I was gonna die there, and I didn't try stopping it."

Ellie had felt lighter than she had in weeks only seconds ago, but all that is gone in an instant, her heart dropping, her body feeling cold all of a sudden.

"Joel-"

"And now- now she had to- this is exactly what I was so afraid of, you know this, even years ago when I first asked you to take her, this was why." Ellie holds her breath, quietly placing her hands against the wall next to the door frame, leaning closer. "Cause this is what happens. I fuck shit up and she's the one who ends up with the bad deal. And now she does this, taking care of me after she did who knows what to save me and my useless life and I- I don't know how to look at her anymore, Tommy."

Ellie feels her heart speed up, her hand slipping from the wall.

Is that what he thinks of her now? Of them?

He hasn't asked about any of it. Not Abby and her friends, not the things she's done to them, not the time she spends obsessively stuck in this room with him now. None of it. It's all in the air, all the time, but he never asked about any of it.

Ellie has been too scared to admit to herself why that is. But she knew, didn't she? The answer has been staring at her from beyond the wall of unspoken truths, and now it reared its ugly head.

Her heartbeat is too loud, so loud she's scared they'll hear it on the other side of the door, and she doesn't quite hear what he says next through the blood rushing in her ears, has to step closer.

"-live with all this guilt", Joel says just then, probably still talking about what she's done to Abby and the others. "How can you ever forgive something like that?"

Her stomach drops. How indeed. She always knew her hands were too red to wash clean. Just like Joel's. They're the same that way. Or maybe she's worse.

"You really think she would've been better off if you died there?" Tommy says. "Cause if so, you really are fucking blind, man."

There's a pause, Tommy sighing.

"You should've seen her, Joel. Didn't eat, didn't sleep, wouldn't budge a damn inch from this chair for days. Same damn stubborn head as you, and lucky for you, man. She'd kill me if she knew I was telling you any of this, by the way."

"Tommy-"

"And before you ask, no, I got no idea how she did it. But she saved you, there's no doubt about that. Whatever she did- however she did it, it's the only reason you're alive."

"I know." There's something in Joel's voice she can't quite place, but it makes her feel hollow inside. It's the same feeling she had when she first found out what he'd done, that he'd been lying to her.

She's been livid with him for breaking her trust, for taking her choice, for forcing her to keep living- to live while others had to die for her-

Has she just done the same to Joel?

Ellie feels sick.

"I never asked what happened between you", Tommy's voice says, "and I ain't gonna. But I've seen the way you two were, when you came to Jackson. And now- you got another chance. Don't waste it."

"It's just complicated."

"It's always fucking complicated."

"Yeah, well, it's more than that, it's-" Something pained takes over Joel's voice. Ellie doesn't want to hear any more of this, but her feet won't move. "I've been selfish with her, Tommy", he says. "She thinks I wronged her, and maybe she's right, but I can't regret it. I can't. I'd do it again, that's the worst part."

Ellie swallows. She knew, of course she knew, but hearing it like this hits her anyway.

"Every time she looks at me like I hurt her I'm reminded that I still wouldn't change a goddamn thing. And now she's being all- y'know. Doing all this, and I- I just don't know what to say to her, Tommy."

"Stop bullshitting me, man, you know exactly what to say to her!"

"No, I don't!" Joel curses under his breath. "Cause I know she don't wanna hear any of the shit I got to say."

"Jesus Christ, you two are the goddamn worst, I swear." Ellie knows the frustrated edge in Tommy's voice well. She's had it directed at her more than once. "Look, Joel. She's your kid. Just fucking talk to her."

He's going to say it, won't he? He'll tell Tommy that he's wrong, that Ellie isn't his daughter, never was. He's going to say-

Silence. Ellie holds her breath.

But it's Tommy's voice that cuts through to her again eventually. 

"You've got to figure this out, Joel, cause I don't know what this thing is between you two, this sorta double package deal you got going on with Ellie, but I know if this doesn't stop, you're both just gonna end up bein' miserable."

More silence, shuffling around, and Ellie has just enough time to quickly duck behind a corner and out of sight as Tommy comes walking through the door and leaves. She watches as he walks down the hallway, waits for another minute with a mind running wild and an empty coldness in her gut, then slowly makes her way to Joel's door.

"Hey", she greets, closing it behind her. 

"Hey, kiddo. How was lunch with Dina?"

"Good." She pulls out the handkerchief she'd folded his surprise into. "Here, snuck out a waffle for you."

"They did waffles for dessert today?" Joel's eyes actually light up, and it has no right to strike Ellie as deeply as it does. "Damn, those are my favourite. Way superior to pancakes, if you ask me."

"I know." Her own voice sounds hollow to her ears, she worries Joel will notice, as he always does when something isn't quite right with her. It's really fucking annoying sometimes how well he knows her, how well they know each other, but then it's also just so nice to have someone like that- and Joel doesn't say anything, happily taking the waffle she hands over. 

"Thanks", he says, and he smiles at her before biting into it. Looking at her like-

I don't know how to look at her anymore.

"Sure." Ellie attempts a smile she knows won't reach her eyes. "How's Tommy?"

Great. Fucking stupid, Ellie. Twist the knife some more, why don't you?

"All good, you just missed him." Joel shifts, repositioning the splint around his knee. "Would've liked to say hi to you, but he's got a wife waiting for him with lunch."

"Oh." Ellie forces a teasing smirk. "We don't wanna risk angry Maria."

Joel huffs out an amused breath, nodding seriously.

"No, we certainly do not."

There's nothing on his face to give it away. Nothing at all. If Ellie hadn't happened to be on time to hear the words come out of his mouth, it would've been as if they'd never been spoken at all. She almost wishes she'd never heard.

It's one thing to know the red on your own hands, it's quite another to have Joel acknowledge it. Maybe if she hadn't pushed him away that hard, he wouldn't feel this way now. Maybe if she'd let him in, he could help her live with this colour all over her now.

But she hadn't. She hadn't.

Joel's red hands are his to carry, and he can't take on Ellie's for her.

How do you forgive something like that?

"Ellie?"

She looks up.

"What? Sorry, lost in thought there for a second."

"I asked if you want some."

"Oh, no, thanks." She waves him off dismissively. "I had one, this one's for you."

That's a lie. They all get the same portion at shared meals in the Jackson community. She had saved hers for him. She knows they're Joel's favourite. She'd wanted Joel to have it because they're Joel's favourite, and maybe if she just keeps doing nice things, good things- then maybe-

Ellie turns her back to him, clenching her hands tightly as she blinks the tears away.

~oOo~

~oOo~

The last notes of Take On Me fade away. Ellie rests her hands against the guitar strings.

"That was nice."

Ellie jumps, almost dropping the guitar in the process. She swears under her breath, setting the instrument down carefully.

"Jesus, Joel!"

He clearly suppresses a grin. That dick.

"Getting pretty good there, kiddo", he says, and Ellie can't help the smile, shrugging.

"It's fine", she says, wishing the compliment didn't make her feel as warm as it does. "Did I wake you up? Sorry about that."

"Nono. No worries." Joel pushes himself further up on the bed to sit with a groan. He'd needed help with that not too long ago, now it's still a visible struggle, but he insists on doing it, and he does. "Would've been sad to miss that, anyway."

She knows he means that, he's always been so fucking genuine about liking to hear her play, and playing for her, but she's not ready to think about that now, those times when they sat on the porch together, learning chords and sharing smiles, like the world wasn't dying around them, like they hadn't failed to stop it - like they didn't have a single fucking worry other than what string to pluck next, a happy fucking family.

All that's gone now. She doesn't know how to get it back. If they deserve to get it back. 

Ellie rolls her eyes at him, pulling her journal across the table and flicking through it just so she can pretend to be busy.

"You...uhm. Working on something in there?"

"That's private, Joel."

He clears his throat.

"Sure. Sorry." There's a moment of silence, long enough for her to feel bad about being like this, it's not like it's his fault he can't look at her the same way anymore, and this isn't making anything better, she knows that, but- "Y'know", Joel says. "I used to write songs sometimes, back in the day."

Ellie looks up, blinking.

"You wrote songs?"

"Well." Joel shifts around, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Not great ones. But yeah."

"You gonna play one for me?"

"No."

"Dude!" Ellie stares at him in disbelief, the heaviness in her chest momentarily forgotten. "You can't just say something like that and then not deliver. Come on."

"Sorry." Joel shrugs. "Don't remember them."

"You fucking liar!" Ellie laughs, getting up from her chair. "You absolutely fucking do!"

Joel looks at her in feigned innocence. She actually can't fucking believe this.

"You're the worst, you know that?"

He grins. Absolute asshole.

"Maybe I'll happen to remember one", he says. "One day."

"Oh, you-"

He's saved only by the doctor walking into the room, but Ellie will be damned if she lets him off the hook about this.

The doctor says they've got a plan to work on Joel's leg.

It's gonna take time. Pain. Patience.

Joel is gonna hate all that, Ellie already knows. Not the pain, he doesn't care about that part. He's gonna hate feeling incapable, feeling useless. He's gonna be such a bitch about this, but it's fine. She's gonna be there to push him through it. However long it takes. There's no other option.

This is gonna work. They're gonna do this. And then Joel will be fine again, he'll get up again, and she'll force him to play a song for her, one of those bad songs he wrote.

It's gonna be fine.

Ellie ignores the cold weight trying to press down on her chest, and allows herself to hope.

~oOo~

Ellie screams, a butcher's knife in her hand. Cutting, chopping, down, down, down. She lets it drive into his face again and again, nose cut in two, face split open, blood splattering on her hands, her arms, her cheeks. 

The room is on fire, heat seeping into her skin, turning it red like the blood soaking into her clothes. His mouth still smiling even in death, until her knife drives down and it's not a mouth anymore, not a face anymore. No human left, only flesh to slice, to eat, to burn. 

Ellie lets the knife sink, feels it slipping through her fingers and clattering on the floor. She can't see a door, smoke in her lungs. No escape. Maybe that's what David's mouth had been smiling about. She looks down, only it's not David's body lying there, wrecked by her massacre.

Ellie staggers back, gasping for air that has no oxygen left. She can't breathe.

"No!" It can't be, it can't- "No, no, no!" 

She crawls to the carnage she left, a blood-stained green flannel, a broken watch around a lifeless wrist. She screams his name, her hands trembling as she kneels over Joel's dead body, disfigured by her knife, demolished by her rage. 

"No, no, please!" Tears burn in Ellie's eyes, blurring her vision to a mess of red blood and yellow flames. "I didn't mean to, please, I didn't want this, please, please, Joel-"

Ellie looks up, and there's a woman standing over the body, looking down at her. Her arms crossed over her chest, a pleased smile on her lips.

"You have a violent heart", Abby says. "Just like me." 

She wakes up gasping, heart beating violently in her chest as she scrambles up to sit. 

"Ellie?" She knows that voice, she knows she does, but everything feels so far away- "Ellie!"

Joel. It's Joel. Ellie sucks in gulps of air, her head sinking onto her knees, hands threaded in her hair. 

"Baby, are you okay? Ellie?"

She follows the sound of his voice, meeting worried eyes. And he's here, he's alive, he cares, and Ellie doesn't have it in her to lie, so she shakes her head, feeling the tears starting to burn in the corners of her eyes already. 

"That's fine", Joel says gently, brow furrowed. "Can you get up, come over here? You think you can do that for me?"

She doesn't even think twice about it, standing on unsteady legs like a fucking baby giraffe, but she makes it over to his bed, over to him. 

"That's good." Joel grabs her hands as soon as she's close enough to reach, and only then does she realize just how badly she's trembling. "There you go. You're okay."

"I'm sorry." She's not sure what she means, maybe she means the state she's in, maybe she means killing him. "I didn't mean to", she says, "I-I didn't-"

"Shhhh." Joel rubs her hands, the same hands that drove a knife into his face. "It's alright. Just breathe for me, baby, that's it." 

She does, three deep breaths, stuttering and uneven, but they serve to drive the burn of smoke from her lungs, the fog from her mind. 

A dream, she tells herself. Just a dream.

She hasn't had one this bad in quite some time.

"C-Can I-" Ellie gestures to the bed before she can think better of it, craving his comfort like oxygen, and to her surprise Joel nods without hesitation. 

"Of course. Always." 

Always. That doesn't seem right, but she's too wrung out to question it right now. 

She climbs on the bed, stiff, clumsy, the memory of grief still paralyzing her. She fits herself against him, buries her face in him like she wanted to do in her dream, fusing into him with her whole person. That broken, bloody face could have been her last memory of him, his body cold against her, a little girl seeking safety with the only protector she's ever known- the death of a home that couldn't shelter her anymore.

But Joel is warm, he's here, and he instantly wraps her in his arms as she shivers. 

It's safety. A safety she's spent the last years resenting until it was almost too late.

"You wanna talk about it?"

She shakes her head.

"That's okay, baby. We can just stay here for a bit, that sound good?"

Ellie doesn't answer, just shuffles even closer and pillows her head on his chest. 

She should be used to nightmares by now. It shouldn't take her apart like this every time. But the ones with David had always been the worst ones.

Ellie wipes her eyes with her sleeve, cursing those fucking tears. It's pretty fucking rude, if you ask her. She's nineteen for fuck's sake and she still can't get over that day. Nothing even fucking happened, she'd killed that motherfucker before it got really bad, but the mere memory still leaves her feeling like a little kid again every time, shivering in the snow, burning in the fire.

"Sorry I'm such a fucking mess", she mumbles.

And Joel doesn't say anything, just holds her tighter, and maybe that actually makes it better, that he doesn't try to tell her she's not, doesn't try to deny it.

He has no delusion about it, doesn't pretend, no, he knows her. He knows the truth of it, all the messy bits, but he holds her anyway, touches her when she's doused in red, still calls her babygirl in that soft tone that makes her eyes water.

He doesn't tell her empty white lies, he just holds her together and keeps the worst from spilling out, and even when it does he'll still be there to smile at her.

And just for a moment it doesn't matter that he doesn't know how to look at her anymore, just for a moment it feels like he still wants her. Like it's okay for her to be a mess around him, like he doesn't mind.

He's broken too. And it feels good to be wanted by someone who knows, someone who gets it.

"Try and go back to sleep, babygirl."

Babygirl. Ellie feels like crying. She feels like crying all the fucking time. But she won't, if she cries, those tears are gonna soak into Joel's shirt, she's not gonna make him carry them for her.

But she's safe here, and exhaustion is creeping up on her faster than she'd realized. Her hand lies on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, her eyes heavy. Just before darkness claims her, she can feel him pressing a light kiss to the top of her head.

She'll tell him soon. She'll tell him everything. 

She swears.

Chapter Text

Ellie pushes the front door open. 

She hasn't set foot in Joel's house since she'd angrily packed up the few belongings in her room she cared about, moving it all into the garage to get away from Joel and his lies. 

The door creaks in its hinges, the air cold and still when she steps inside. 

Dina is coming by later to help her prepare some last things, but she'd wanted to have a moment alone with the house first, the house that had been the first place she'd ever called home. If she looks more closely, she'd have to admit that it's a person she considers home rather than a place, but that means thinking about how close she'd come to losing that home, and she's not going there, ever. 

She hasn't lived in this house in over a year, but her feet carry her around as if time hasn't changed anything at all, past the picture she drew of Joel that's been sitting on the mantlepiece ever since, his guitar in the corner, one of those he'd made himself. There's a coffee mug with the picture of an owl on it still sitting innocently by the sink, signs of an unsuspecting house that hadn't known its owner wouldn't return to it the same way he'd left it that morning.

She picks up an old museum pamphlet lying between the books on the shelf. Deinonychus. Ellie smiles. That had been a good day. 

Up the stairs, she walks past her old room, doesn't even look inside. Dina will help her with that later, move all her stuff back in from the garage.  

Ellie's mind has been made up since the second the doctor said they'd be sending them home soon.

There's nothing more they can do here, they said, nothing but time that will help him heal now.

She plays back in her mind how they'd given them instructions on physical therapy, and of course Joel had grumbled about it.

"He's gonna do it", Ellie had said, no room for debate as she shot Joel a look. "Don't worry, he's gonna do whatever you say."

I'll make damn sure of it.

So, Ellie had decided to move back into the house with him. She told him so, and that conversation went great. She got to hear all the bullshit she expected - how he doesn't want her to feel responsible, obligated, doesn't want her stopping her life for him, whatever stupid argument he could scarpe together. Ellie isn't having any of that crap.

"Joel." Something had to show in her voice, because he actually did shut up. "You need someone", she'd said, plain and simple as that. "You know that. I know that. And that someone's gotta be me."

He hadn't looked happy with that answer, but she literally couldn't give less of a shit. This is happening.

"I'll follow you anywhere you go, remember?" The frown on Joel's face broke open at that, and yeah, she'd had him then. Good. "Even if that's just across the street", she'd tried to joke, but they both knew it was serious. "You're here. I'm here. End of story."

Joel had looked at her for a moment longer, and Ellie lifted her eyebrows, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"God, fine", he'd sighed, giving up. "I guess there's no point in arguing with your stubborn ass."

Like father, like daughter. She'd never say it out loud. It stings to even think it.

"There isn't", Ellie had said. "Well spotted. So let's go."

And here she is now, standing in Joel's room, with a guitar in the corner and a picture of him and Sarah from Before on a chest of drawers. She takes a breath.

A sunbeam falls through the curtains, illuminating the slowly moving dust particles in the air. She works quietly, changing the sheets, fluffing the pillows, dusting the shelves, the nightstand, cleaning the adjacent bathroom. 

They'll have to set up a temporary bed downstairs as well, it's hard to say how long it'll take Joel to cope well with walking stairs, even with Ellie's help, if he'll ever get there again at all. But it feels wrong to leave his room in this state. She wants to get it ready, just in case, just to make sure it would be there for Joel when he needs it, just to pretend that everything will return to normal now. As normal as their lives could ever be, at least. 

It won't. It probably never will, not completely. Ellie knows that, but she'll take what she can get. 

"Ellie?" The door creaks, Dina's voice sounding from downstairs.

"I'm up here!"

She hears Dina's steps on the stairs, smiling when she turns to find her leaning against the door frame. 

"Hey."

Dina smiles. 

"Hey yourself." She pushes her hip away from the door, coming over to Ellie and wrapping an arm around her waist. 

"Looking good in here", Dina says quietly, eyes wandering around before settling on Ellie's profile. "You okay?"

"Mhm." Ellie hums, nodding. Dina's arm gives her a little squeeze, and Ellie forces her eyes away from the bed Joel won't lie in for some time, turning to pull Dina into a proper hug.

"I'm glad you're here", she says, feeling Dina smile against her cheek. 

"I'm glad to be here, too."

~oOo~

Tommy had brought by a spare bed frame to set up downstairs in the living room. It takes up most of the space, they even had to move the couch around, but it will serve its purpose. 

"There you go. That should last you a while." Tommy pushes down on the slatted frame to test the give of the springs, nodding to himself before he gestures Ellie to grab the mattress with him, heaving it onto the frame together. "But y'know, if there's anything you need, you know where to find me."

"Yep. Got it."

"So he's finally coming home, huh?" Tommy throws a glance at her, lifting the corner of the mattress so Ellie has an easier time putting the fitted sheet on.

"Yeah."

"Looks like you got everything under control around here."

She walks around the bed, pulling the sheet to the other corner, doesn't say anything. If she just doesn't say anything, maybe he'll give up on...whatever it is he's trying to do here. 

She feels Tommy's eyes on her as she finishes stuffing the last corner into the sheet, the bed frame creaking as she lets the mattress drop down. He's quiet as he grabs the blanket she brought from upstairs, and maybe she's actually getting out of an impending Talk for once-

"He's lucky he got you, Ellie."

Fucking Hell. 

"Not sure he sees it that way", she mutters before she can stop herself, earning herself one of those sharp looks Tommy does so well. Goddammit, why can't she just keep her mouth shut.

"Ellie-"

"Sorry- no, don't. I know." She lifts her hands appeasingly, not ready to hear whatever speech is forming behind Tommy's reproachful yet weirdly gentle eyes right now. "I don't know why I said that", she says, as if he doesn't see right through that.

Tommy sighs.

"He's trying, Ellie."

She pushes the bottom end of the blanket between the mattress and the metal bars of the bed frame, aware that all her movements come out a little too harsh. 

"I know."

"I know you're trying, too-"

"Just not enough", Ellie says, cause it's not like she isn't thinking about that all the fucking time- "Yeah, I know-"

"That's not what I was gonna say." Tommy puts a hand on her arm, stopping her in her task. "I know you're trying, too", he says again, "and that's good, you're doing good-" Why the fuck do people keep telling her that? "And I know I got no clue what happened between you", Tommy says carefully, "and I ain't gonna try and tell you what to do. But it's hard to see you both hurtin' like this."

Ellie pulls away, and it's not the right thing to do, she knows it's not, but this is what she does. Her hands fiddle with the blanket again, giving her something to focus on that isn't Tommy and his stupid, too-gentle expression. 

"He wants you around, Ellie."

Fuck. She closes her eyes for a second, turning away so he won't see.

"I just don't want you to doubt that", Tommy says. "He's always been fucking terrible with this sort of thing, talking about...the important stuff, y'know. But I know him, and so do you."

There's a long pause, long enough for Ellie to get restless, placing her hands on the mattress and looking up at him. 

"He wants to make things better with you", Tommy says. "I just hope that's enough for you to try and let him."

Her fingers fist in the sheets.

Ellie nods.

"Okay." Tommy straightens his spine, releasing a breath as he draws a hand over his face. "Sorry, I wasn't coming over to give you a damn speech. You can tell me to fuck off now."

The way he's half teasing, half dead-serious is enough to make Ellie relax a little, almost smiling as she smooths out the folds her hands have left on the blanket. 

"No", she says. "I'm good."

Tommy huffs out breath, smiling, clearly pleasantly surprised. He steps around the bed to stand next to her, helping her pull the blanket straight. 

"First time for everything, I guess."

Ellie half-heartedly punches his arm and he grins, then walks off to fetch the pillows. 

Ellie swallows. 

"Look", she says, leaning against the corner bar of the headboard. "I know this is all- beyond fucked. And I'm not trying to be like this, I'm really not. Y'know. Walls and stuff. It just happens."

"I know." Tommy drops the pillows on the bed. "You're gonna figure it out. Just give it time."

"How d'you know?"

He shrugs. 

"You're Joel and Ellie, Ellie an' Joel, right?"

I'm still me, he's still Joel, and nothing is ever gonna change that, she'd said to Jesse.

I don't know how to look at her anymore, Joel had said to his brother. 

"Yeah." Ellie gives him her best impression of a smile. "Right."

~oOo~

Ellie could barely wait until they could leave that hospital with its cold white walls, the beeping of machines and the sharp stench of sickness and disinfectant in the air.

She hadn't foreseen how scary it would be, being alone with Joel like this. Truly alone. 

She probably should have, but she hadn't. And it's not just the time that needs passing, the silence that needs filling.

The doctors have assured her that he's out of danger, that he's healing as well as can be expected, nothing that would warrant constant supervision by their medical staff anymore, but Ellie can't stop the worry gnawing at her, making up scenarios in her mind of everything that could go wrong.

What if they missed something? What if she misses something? What if he falls, starts bleeding again, something with his head injury she wouldn't notice because she's not a fucking doctor and she's gonna end up losing him after all because she didn't know better and they're alone now and no one is there to care for him in time- Shit.

Nothing is going to happen, she tells herself. You're being paranoid. He's fine. You can handle it. You're going to handle it. 

It's their first night back at Joel's place - their place now, Ellie reminds herself - and it's tense. Ellie keeps busy, cooking soup, bringing in more firewood they don't really need, running around Joel in circles and hoping he won't notice that she isn't actually doing anything productive at all. 

Of course, he does notice. She knows he does, feels his eyes following her. But he doesn't try to stop her, only catches her hand once and makes her pause in her urgent step. 

"Ellie", Joel says, smiling softly, soothingly. "You're doing good", he says, nothing more, and Ellie has no words for that, just nods as he lets her go again.

He thanks her when she brings him a bowl of canned soup she heated, thanks her for the blanket she drapes over his legs, for the fire she gets going. He's being all gentle and encouraging, and maybe she should hate that, should be mad that he's treating her like some kind of spooked animal, but the truth is that she appreciates it, even if it doesn't help with the tension in her body and the restlessness in her mind. 

She ends up asking if he wants to watch that shitty movie he likes, she'd promised him they'd do that, and a promise is a promise, even if he hadn't been conscious to remember it.

It's an excuse to stay awake, an excuse to stay close to him and watch over him, to escape that clawing feeling in Ellie's chest that tells her something terrible might happen if she dares to leave the room, to fall asleep and leave him to face the darkness of the night alone.

It's like the first days in the hospital all over again, when she'd barely dared to close her eyes for fear of him disappearing. Ellie isn't sure how she'll ever get it to stop, not when her dreams are always filled with him in red and blue, jaw slack, hands cold. 

The movie ends too soon. Ellie actually likes it a lot, the parts she could concentrate on at least. She'll be damned before she admits that to him, though.

"God." Joel grins happily. "Never gets old."

"It was fine", Ellie says, smiling to herself as she pushes herself up from the couch.

Joel puts a hand on his chest in feigned offence, and Ellie rolls her eyes.

"You take that back!", he demands, but there's no real bite behind it, a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth that he isn't even seriously attempting not to show.

Ellie feels normal for the first time all day. This is easy, familiar. This is how it's supposed to be. 

"Jesus, dude." She raises an eyebrow at him, really leaning into the game of it. "I said it's fine, Joel, s'not like I shot your favourite pet or some shit."

"Fine is what you say when you're just bullshitting about something that sucks", Joel says, and she can't even lie, he might actually have a point there. "Y'know, like getting up at 5 am to go on patrol with my stupid little brother is fine, missing waffle day in the Town Hall is fine."

"It's not that kind of fine!" Ellie can't help but snicker to herself just a little. "It's good", she says then, grinning, because she knows she can be a cheeky piece of work, but she also knows Joel doesn't actually mind. "I like it. I really do. Happy now?"

"Not in the least, you little shit!" Joel's smile is all out now. Mission fucking accomplished.

Ellie laughs, and it feels good. It feels even better when Joel joins in.

She walks over to the player and takes out the disk, carefully placing it back in its case. Their giggles die down as the case clicks shut, like it's closing the moment right along with it.

Ellie sighs. She isn't ready for it to end yet. She'd like to hold onto this feeling, just a second longer.

"I really do", she says, turning to Joel as she slips the DVD case back into place on the shelf.  "Like it, I mean."

Joel huffs, smiling.

"I know."

"It's pretty late", Ellie says, stomach dropping. "Should probably head to bed soon."

She has dreaded this part of the evening all day, but it's not like she can put it off forever. The world doesn't stop turning for anyone, certainly not for her.

"You got your old room ready, right?"

Ellie nods. "Dina helped."

"That's nice of her."

"Mhm." And just like that, it's awkward again. Fucking Hell. "You need anything before I head up?"

She doesn't want to go. She can't ask to stay.

"No, don't think so, thanks."

She's got to go. If she doesn't start walking, she might never get her feet to move. 

"Night, then."

"Yeah, night." Joel gives her a weird, scrutinising look. "You...ah. You did good today", he says then. "Just wanted to say that."

He's trying so fucking hard. Ellie would have to be blind not to see how hard he's trying. She's not sure she deserves it. She manages a half-hearted smile in response, because she's Ellie and her best efforts are still the fucking worst, slowly making her way to the door.

"Ellie."

"Yeah?" Maybe she shouldn't have turned around that fast. Her desperation has to be written all over her. Pathetic, honestly. 

"I was just thinkin'", Joel says, fingers playing with the seam of his blanket. "I mean, I was wondering, actually- if you could stay down here tonight."

He pauses, seems to be trying to figure out her reaction, but Ellie has honestly no idea what things might be showing on her face.

"If that's not too much to ask", Joel goes on, almost casually. "Y'know, I get this pain sometimes, in my chest, at night, and I think it would help if you could be here, to look after that for me. If any of that happens. Y'know."

Joel is asking her to stay with him. 

She knows what this is. She knows why he's doing this, and it's not because of any pain in his chest. It's the pain in her own chest, that's why.

He knows, somehow he knows that she needs this much more than he actually does, but he also knows that she wouldn't have asked, wouldn't have known how to ask, so he's giving her an in, an opportunity to take what she needs without having to admit to it. 

"Sure", Ellie says, voice thick. "I guess I could do that."

"Only if you don't mind", Joel says, and Ellie is so damn grateful for him, she hardly knows what to do with it all.

"It's fine", she says, but what she really means is thank you, and she hopes Joel hears it. 

~oOo~

"Ellie!"

Blood rushes in her ears, drips from her fingers.

Something is grabbing at her, pulling on her clothes. She tries to twist away from it, maybe it's the red current that tries to pull her under, but it just tightens its hold on her, shaking her around.

"Ellie!"

There's a voice. Ellie holds her head above the waves, struggling to hear.

"C'mon, Ellie-"

Her eyes fly open, squirming away from the hands caging her in, gasping for breath.

Worried brown meets her- Joel, it's Joel. 

"Hey, it's me." Joel's hands are on her face, keeping her focused. "Look", he says. "It's me. You're okay. It's just me."

Just Joel. She'd stayed with Joel in the bed she and Tommy set up, yes, that's right, Joel had asked her to. It's okay, if she could just get her breathing under control and her heart to slow the fuck down.

Ellie forces her body to relax, releasing her clinging hold on Joel's wrinkled shirt. She doesn't remember the dream vividly, but she still has that feeling of hollowing grief stuck in her bones that usually comes with those that have her losing Joel. 

"Sorry", she mutters, trying to pull away from him, but he keeps her close.

"You don't gotta be sorry, Ellie."

There are flashes behind her eyes, pictures of the house, empty. A cold, abandoned cup by the sink. A broken guitar. Flowers piling up in the worst way. Ellie forces them away to the back of her mind. 

"This fucking sucks." Ellie rubs angrily at her eyes, as if that could somehow chase the blurry pictures of all those nightmares away. "I'm here to help you and now I woke you up with my bullshit-"

Joel shakes his head, one of his hands stroking soothingly over her arm, and she's still shaken by that dream, she's so fucking frustrated with herself, with her own mind betraying her like this every single fucking night and she hates feeling like this, feeling this helpless and weak and now she can feel the pathetic stinging of tears again- Ellie hates this. She hates it.

She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, can't keep looking at Joel or she'll definitely cry and she's not fucking doing this in the middle of the fucking night, Joel's first fucking night back at their house where she's supposed to take care of Joel and here she is, all cracked open and messy.

"Fuck."

Joel is quiet, just gives her a moment to sit with herself, but his hand never leaves her arm, just resting there, steady and undemanding. 

"I used to have nightmares every damned day for years", he says softly when Ellie finally gathers herself enough to open her eyes to the dark room. "Still do now. Not as much but...when you've seen what we've seen- Never really goes away."

He looks down at the mattress between them, facing each other as they lie on their sides. 

"Used to be Sarah. Then it was-" 

Something flickers over his face, something big and dangerous and entirely too soon for Ellie to look at more closely. Then it's gone, and Joel sighs, eyes wandering around but avoiding Ellie's gaze.

"Sure you can guess", he mutters, and she can, she can, but he's not going to say it, right, surely, they don't do that- "Was always about losing somethin' though." 

Joel pauses, and Ellie can't take her eyes off his face, her throat closing up.

"Losing- someone", he says. 

"Joel-"

Then he does look at her, and she's shocked to find his eyes glistening. 

"I know you can't forgive me", he says, voice thick. "An' that's fine, that's- I can't change that-"

"Joel, we're not doing this now-"

"Yeah, we damn well are." There's something desperate, something fragile in his tone that doesn't allow her to challenge it, even if she's scared to death of what the next words out of Joel's mouth could do to them. 

"You don't gotta say anything", he says, "but I do, so just listen. I don't know what's happening here, if you think you got something to make up to me or- fuck do I know. Cause you don't. And I know this doesn't mean that you've forgiven me, I'm not asking you to. But you've gotta forgive yourself, Ellie." 

He says it so softly, so unbearably gentle, like the weight of those words might break her if he isn't careful with them. Or maybe he's just as scared to break himself along with it, too. 

"Hate me for this if that's what it takes", Joel says, like he's okay with that, like he'll just take it if that's what she needs- "But you can't blame yourself, you hear? It wasn't your job to die for the world. Putting that on your shoulders- they never should've done that. And yeah, maybe I was wrong, making the choices I made, but it's done, and you're not gonna keep tearing yourself up over it just because I couldn't lose-"

He breaks himself off, reeling himself back in, like he's afraid of saying too much. They're always afraid of saying too much and end up saying too little.

"Hate me", he repeats, "but you gotta promise me to live and not feel guilty about it."

Ellie has no fucking clue how she's supposed to do that. 

"I don't hate you", she hears herself say. Maybe that's the only thing she can say to all that, the only thing that's clear in her mind. 

Joel exhales, shaking his head with a sad smile. And that's wrong. It looks like he doesn't quite believe her, and that's fucking wrong-

"I don't- hate you", she repeats. "I don't."

He looks at her with that same sad smile, swallowing hard.

"Okay."

She doesn't know what to say about any of that other stuff. It's so much, and even more has to be said before they can let this go, but it's a start, a fucking scary messed-up start that she doesn't have any words for, but maybe having that box opened is actually gonna make it less scary to touch when she's ready. 

She wishes she had more than silence to offer, but her lungs feel too small and her ribs too big, like things are just going to break open and spill out of her if she dares to do as much as breathe.  

Finally, Joel pulls away. His hands retreating where they'd been placed on the mattress between them, almost reaching out, an almost formed bridge to cross the rift between them. Now they're pulled back, cradled close against Joel's chest. 

"You don't gotta stay here, y'know", he says. 

She's not sure what he means. This bed for the rest of the night? This house for the rest of his recovery? His life for the rest of forever? 

It doesn't matter. The answer is the same.

"Shut up", Ellie mumbles, burrowing deeper into the pillow and drawing the blanket more tightly around them both.

Chapter Text

~oOo~

"You done your ankle pumps?"

Joel sighs.

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Like...maybe four?" 

Ellie knows he can manage more than that by this time of day.

"How long since the last set?" she asks, ignoring Joel's irritated frown. He's not really irritated with her, they both know that. He's mad at the slowly creeping pace of his recovery, because other than what most of Jackson may think, Joel is not actually some kind of super human and his knee doesn't actually care that he wants it to heal faster than the usual six months it takes the average human to get back on their feet. 

"Two hours, maybe", Joel says. Long enough.

"Okay", Ellie says, collecting the dishes to wash up. "Do another set, then. And I'll help you with the knee bends after." The frown deepens, not that Ellie is the least bit surprised. "Don't even fucking look at me like that, Joel."

"Fine, fine." 

"It's your fucking leg, dude."

Joel shoots her a look but moves to pull the blanket away, revealing his injured leg, the vertical scar running across his knee, a makeshift compression sock on his lower leg to counteract the swelling. 

"I'm doing it", he says, keeping his leg straight and pressing his toes down away from him, then up towards him. "Look. Stop pestering me."

"I wouldn't need to if you weren't being such a grumpy old bitch about it", Ellie shoots back, turning away so she can secretly smile to herself.

Being a grumpy old man is all the fun Joel gets right now, and it's the most Joel thing he could possibly do to grumble about this any chance he gets, and she's actually so fucking elated to be here and witness his frowns and his sharp looks and his general crankiness- because this is familiar and so fucking Joel and every time he rolls his eyes at her, Ellie is reminded that he's still here to be his grumpy old self with her that she's come to rely on so damn much.

"Shut up", Joel mutters, shifting his toes for the next repetition, and Ellie shakes her head with a smile. 

"But seriously." Ellie throws a glance at him as she stacks the bowls still sitting on the table from last night's dinner. "Track your damn exercises or I'm gonna start doing it, even if it means watching you every single second and being even more of a pain in your ass."

She gives Joel a sweet smile and he huffs. 

"Yeah, yeah." The corner of his mouth twitches up, betraying his amusement. "I will. Jesus."

"Thirty reps", Ellie calls over her shoulder with a grin, taking the dishes to the kitchen. 

When she gets back, she's pleased to see that he's just doing some quad sets, holding his legs straight with his toes pointing towards the ceiling, then pressing both knees into the ground to straighten his legs even more. It's not as good on the bed as it would have been on the floor, but she appreciates the effort. 

"That's not looking too bad", Ellie says.

Joel grunts.

"Feels like hell though."

"It's gonna get better", Ellie says, to herself as much as to Joel. "It will."

She watches quietly as he finishes the ten repetitions he's supposed to do, nodding to herself as Joel sinks back into the bed with a groan.

"Nice. Ready for knee bends?"

"Yes, Sir", Joel says, smirking at her, the bastard.

"Oh, fuck off." 

Ellie lets the smile slip, coming around the bed so she can reach his injured leg, grabbing Joel's foot to help him pull his leg towards him as far as possible with his knee bent, heel on the bed.

"Okay, slowly..."

Ellie pushes gently, helping out where Joel starts to waver once the pain kicks in.

Joel clenches his teeth but doesn't make a sound other than the occassional grunt, and Ellie kind of wishes he wouldn't try to hide his pain from her- which, yeah, it's fucking hypocritical with the way she's doing the same thing all the damn time, she's aware, thank you very much.

"I fucking hate these", he presses out, legs trembling a little but pushing through the way he always does.

"I know." Ellie counts in her head, four more seconds, three, two... "Aaaand release."

Joel takes a deep breath and rests his leg on the bed for a moment.

"Think we can break our record for most bends within two minutes?"

He gives her an Are you fucking serious? look, but nods anyway.

"Okay. Go again." Ellie pushes his foot back into position, watching the way Joel's face twitches.

"I'm sure I can do it myself, too", Joel says, breathing deeply through the pain. "You don't gotta do this every time-"

"Yeah, no, you don't." Ellie holds his leg steady. "You know what the docs said, most people can't push past the initial pain barrier."

"I'm not most people", Joel breathes out, lowering his leg at her sign.

"Fair enough." Ellie does actually have to give him that, even if it doesn't make a damn difference here. She doesn't think she's ever met anyone quite like Joel, someone as strong and capable and determined, and that's not just because her picture is compromised by the screwed perspective of a fourteen-year-old girl getting to experience what it means to have someone protect her for the first time in her life.

"But this is different", Ellie says. "Stop being such a hardass. You got nothing to prove here, Joel. We both know you're in fucking pain. And this sucks, yeah, but I don't care. It's what I'm here for, okay?"

Joel looks like he wants to argue, but Ellie is quicker.

"I wanna help", she says, and it's nothing but the truth, too. "So let me help."

Please.

Joel looks at her, sighs.

"Okay."

"You manage three more before time's up?"

He ends up doing five.

~oOo~

The room that's been remodelled into something of a wood carving workshop hasn't been touched in some time.

Dust has settled on the unfinished statue of a horse Joel had been working on, forgotten woodchips sprinkled across the surface of the worktop.

Ellie lets her fingers glide over the head of a carved owl, the back of what was going to be a duck. Tools lie clattered around, knives and chisels and mallets, books with reference pictures open on the table, pieces of guitars that are waiting to be put together to create sound. 

That's what this room is. It's creation paused mid-beat, the beautiful mess of something coming to life that's been laid still and overgrown with time's neglect. Grey dust on living wood, works of skill and love half-formed by Joel's hands.

This is what he was meant to do, Ellie thinks, putting tools back into place, cleaning off leftover shavings. The contractor, builder, artist. Joel's hands have been made to create, despite the world forcing them to bring so much destruction instead. Maybe that's the difference between them, the reason the red on Ellie's hands doesn't look the same to her as it does on Joel's.

She's never known herself to build much of anything. Even the music she creates with her guitar is a mere reflection of Joel's work, Joel's creation, Joel's teachings. She doesn't mind that, she's proud to have a way to pass on some of the light he's given to her. But they're taken from the world Joel used to inhabit, a world Ellie never got to know. She's been a child of destruction from the start, and maybe that's why it suits her so well, maybe that's why it's in her nature. A violent heart.

The cure had been her chance. To create. To save. To be something more than what the brutality of the world had moulded her to be. 

They haven't talked about what Joel said that night.

Ellie is quite successfully pretending it never happened, and Joel knows her better than to challenge that denial. Still, she can't hide from it in her own head.

You gotta forgive yourself, she hears him say. It wasn't your job to die for the world.

He's not even wrong about that. It wasn't her job, but that hadn't mattered to her. Perhaps she shouldn't have carried that responsibility, but she had. And she hadn't even hated it. It had given her a reason, a direction. It had made her life worth something.

You gotta forgive yourself.

That one's too heavy. How do you forgive yourself for living while everyone else around you dies? What's the point of living when you're always just scared for everyone you love? What's the point of being special when it doesn't help anyone but yourself?

You gotta live and not feel guilty about it.

Feels fucking impossible. Guilt gnaws at her all the damn time. About not being the cure the world needed. About not being the daughter Joel lost. About not being the person people want her to be. 

About the darkness in her mind and the broken promise in her blood and the red on her hands.

Ellie turns one of the carving knives in her hand, presses her thumb against the blade, notching into her flesh, not quite drawing blood. 

Maybe she's nothing but an untreated piece of wood herself. Maybe that's what knowing Joel has been doing to her, his presence shaping her, his words carving away at her, his care chipping away all the bad bits.  

Ellie hisses, the knife clattering as it falls on the worktop. There's a drop of crimson running down her thumb. Ellie rubs it into her skin, watches the red spread and stain her like in all her dreams. 

You gotta live and not feel guilty about it.

Joel has never asked about Abby, about all the things she's done. She never told him. Maybe it'd be easier if she did. Maybe it wouldn't be so heavy in her chest all the time, so big in her head.

Maybe if she told him, Joel could cut that out of her, like he hadn't let the doctors cut the cure out of her brain. 

Ellie puts her thumb in her mouth, sucks the red away. 

She should ask Joel to teach her something about wood carving. 

~oOo~

"Maybe you wanna invite her over to dinner sometime."

Ellie looks at Joel from across the couch. 

"Here?" she asks. "With us?"

"Yeah." Joel shrugs. "Like a sorta family thing."

Family. He says it casually, almost dismissively, but Ellie's stomach clenches. 

They've talked about Dina often, actually. He keeps asking, and Ellie secretly enjoys it, these normal conversations that feel like there's nothing in the world to worry about other than telling Joel what she and her pretty-much-girlfriend had for lunch. 

Dina's even been over for visits regularly, but this sounds different. This feels almost official in a weird way, like he's suggesting some sort of meet-the-parents get-together. And the weirdest thing is, the swoop in Ellie's stomach clearly means that she doesn't mind that idea. At all. 

"Yeah, sure." She puts her feet on the couch, pulls her knees up against her chest. "That'd be nice."

"Unless the two of you would rather just have a little date night by yourselves", Joel says, looking over the edge of his reading glasses at the book in his hands. "I can get outta your hair if that's-"

"Nah." Ellie shakes her head. "Dina won't mind. She loves you." She realizes too late what she just said, panicking a little. "For some unfathomable reason", she quickly adds, backtracking awkwardly, because that's what she does. Great save right there. God. 

But why that fuck was that so easy to say that it slipped just right out, when even thinking about telling Joel she loves him has Ellie's chest tightening until she can't breathe? Fucking unfair is what that is. Thankfully, Joel doesn't acknowledge her three seconds of panic there, pointedly turning a page in his book. 

"Course she does", Joel smirks. "Told you everyone loves contractors."

Ellie snorts despite herself, the weight on her chest lifting instantly at Joel's gentle teasing.

"Contractoooor", Ellie whispers, making Joel laugh.

"You're gonna have to do most of the prep, but..."

"Don't mind that", Ellie says.

"Ask her, then. And lemme know so I can try and work it into my super busy schedule of sitting around all day."

"Oh yeah." Ellie huffs theatrically. "Sorry that you're gonna have to interrupt that. So inconvenient."

"It's a price I'm willing to pay", Joel counters dryly. "Anything for you."

There's still that amused sparkle in his eyes as he says it, but the sincerity underneath hits Ellie harder than it should. She nods.

"I'll let you know."

Half a week later, it's all set. 

Dinner is...nice. It's really nice, actually. Maybe the nicest thing Ellie has done or felt in months, if not years. It's comfortable. It feels normal. Like they really are just a family and her stupid dad invited her girlfriend because he cares and wants to make her happy. 

Thoughts like this are fucking dangerous, possibly more dangerous than facing a damn clicker, Ellie knows that, but they still creep their way into her head - and worse, into her heart - because there Joel and Dina are, getting along like a damn house on fire, like she knew they would, they always have, really.

"You know why I appreciate my legs?" Dina says, throwing a wicked glance at Joel. "Cause they always stand up for me."

Ellie's mouth drops open, awaiting Joel's retort, but he turns to her instead.

"You two are a match made in hell, y'know that?" he says to her, tilting his head towards Dina.

"What the fuck did I do?" Ellie protests as Dina giggles across the table.

"C'mon, Joel", she says, smiling in a way that tells Ellie she's up to no good. "You should be glad it's not a foot injury, those take forever to heel."

"Jesus Christ", Joel mutters, shaking his head.

"Aww." Dina gives Ellie a feigned sad look. "He felt that one right in his sole."

"Okay, that's enough." Joel rubs his temples, but he can't hide the grin that's tugging at the corner of his mouth. "There's only so many bad leg puns a man can take."

"Excuse me." Dina crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Actually, you should kneel before the power of my superior puns- Oh, wait..." 

Joel throws a napkin at her and Dina just laughs in his face for missing so spectacularly, and Ellie is smiling, she's smiling so much she fears her cheeks might hurt later because they're not used to feeling like this anymore.

Afterwards, she's with Dina on the porch, quietly talking as and they say their goodbyes. Then Dina kisses her. It's the first real kiss since that dance on New Year's Eve, and Ellie would rate it a solid ten if Dina ever asked.

When she comes back in, all light and giddy, Joel has a stupid, knowing grin plastered all over his face.

"Dude." Ellie lifts her eyebrows, but she's anything but genuinely upset that he was clearly watching them. "Seriously? You've just been sitting there?"

"What?" He points innocently to his injured knee. "It's not like I could've walked away."

He has been working on getting up more, they want to start walking exercises soon, and he comes to sit at the table with her for dinner now, moving around the lower floor with Ellie's help. Walking around on his own is not currently in the cards, though. Not that he would've fucking tried even if he could. 

"That's real creepy, Joel", Ellie says, but the smile breaks through, and she doesn't even care.

"So?" He lifts a meaningful eyebrow. "You had a good time?" 

"Eww!" Ellie can't help but laugh. "I'm not talking about that stuff with you, old man."

"Jesus Christ, kiddo, not that!" The horrified offence on his face is actually hilarious. "I meant, did you have a good evening?" Joel says. "With the dinner. Food. Conversation. Oh, you know what I mean."

Ellie rolls her eyes.

"I did", she says then, genuine. "I really did. Thanks."

"No need. You did everything, anyway." His face softens. "And I had a good time, too."

"Good. I'm glad." Ellie smiles, remembering what Dina said on the porch when she left. "Dina says she's gonna shoot a bear so we can have Bear-b-cue next time. Don't ask, it's just like a dumb joke between us." 

"Bear-b-cue?" Joel gives her a disbelieving look.

"Yeah, y'know. Bears' ribs. Bear-b-cue", Ellie says, grinning at Joel's unimpressed frown. "Don't look at me, Dina's the one who made that shit up."

"Wow. Should've known, just like the leg puns", Joel sighs. "I really thought she'd do better than that. Tell her that's a zero out of ten."

"Hey!" Ellie slaps his arm in protest. "It's not, c'mon, it's funny."

"Oh, you really gotta be down bad for that girl to think that's funny."

And he's right. Fuck, he's right, and she is, and damn, this is what it feels like to be happy, isn't it? 

Ellie smiles. 

"So what if I was", she says, and she doesn't want to take it back. It's out there, and it's good.

It's good.

The moment settles, Joel's amused smirk softening to a fond smile.

"Yeah", Ellie says, breathless. "I think maybe I am."

Joel's smile widens, making her feel warm in a way she wants to keep inside her forever. 

"I'm real happy for you", he says, and she knows he means it, too. "You deserve it, y'know. You really do."

She wants to believe she does. She really wants to believe it.

Thanks, Dad, she wants to say.

Instead, Ellie just nods.

"I should probably clear the table and all that, so..." Ellie tilts her head towards the dishes still standing around.

"If you help me get up and back over there, I can-"

"No, no, it's fine", she says, a reflex now, "I can do it, I don't mind."

"El." Joel doesn't call her that a lot. She wishes he'd do it more. It feels warm. Intimate.

"Let me help", Joel says, asks, and she can see it in his eyes, how he wants to feel useful - she knows that feeling all too well.

"Okay", she says, turning back to help him up. "C'mon."

It's a familiar process by now, where to hold, how to best support Joel's weight so he doesn't put too much pressure on his bad knee.

It's only a few steps to the table, Joel's arm resting over her shoulders, and as she feels his weight and warmth close like this, she feels good. Actually good, no darkness lurking underneath. 

It's been a good day.

Chapter Text

The snow crunches quietly as Joel shifts beside her.

"How many?"

Ellie looks through the scope of her rifle. Clicker, one, two. Runners...five.

"Seven", she says.

"Pick one to focus on." Joel scans the area through his own scope. "Keep in mind there's some drop of the bullet with this distance."

"Yep."

Ellie hones in on a clicker, aiming for its head. She steadies her hand, finger on the trigger.

The shot echoes in the snowy trees around them. Though the scope, Ellie sees the bullet hit the clicker's chest, and she huffs in dissatisfaction.

"It's fine", Joel says. "You hit 'em."

"Not where I wanted."

"You will next time." Joel throws a glance at her from the side. "Wanna go again?"

Ellie's already searching for another one, as if that's even a fucking question.

"Remember what I told you about the key to shootin' well", Joel says. "It's..."

"...all in controlling your breath", Ellie mutters.

"Right." She catches Joel smiling to himself before looking back through his scope. "And to control your breath, you gotta control your heart. Your heart must be still. At peace."

Peace is not a word Ellie would apply to the world they live in. But she's here with Joel. Being with Joel is probably the closest she's ever gotten to feeling peaceful.

She focuses on the Infected, taking her time to aim for the head. Deep breath, slow your heartbeat, mind the distance, test the trigger, exhale.

This time, her bullet hits right where she wanted, her target dropping, struck between the eyes. Ellie feels a moment of celebratory pride, but it quickly freezes to cold dread in her blood, her heartbeat hammering as she realizes it's not the clicker she shot. 

It's Joel. Joel, who drops dead into the snow as she stares through the scope in shock.

But that's impossible, he's right next to her, he's right here, not on the wrong end of her rifle.

A small rivulet of blood runs from the shot wound in his forehead and drips into the snow.

Ellie rips her eyes away, looks to the side because surely she'll find him there- but Joel is gone.

A young woman lies next to her, a braid falling down her back.

Abby looks at her, smiling. "He taught you well."

~oOo~

Ellie knows she won't fall asleep again tonight. 

She stares at the poster of an astronaut playing an electric guitar on the side of a chest of drawers, the wooden statue of Shimmer Joel had made that's standing on her desk, pens still sitting in a wooden cup with carved pineapples, their ink probably all dried up now. There's the hat she'd put on the dinosaurs, a piece of paper with drawings of moths on it, held on the wall over the bed with ancient sticky tape. 

An hour passes. Ellie turns restlessly, willing her mind away from the conjured images of her nightmare. Joel looking proudly at her when she remembered his lessons. Joel with a bullet wound bleeding in the snow. Abby smiling at her in satisfaction. 

Ellie sighs, throwing back the covers as she swings her feet over the edge of the bed. The floor is cold against her naked feet, but not as cold as the snow had been, the dread freezing her blood.

She quietly makes her way down the stairs, hoping they won't creak too much, sneaking into the kitchen. She fills a glass with water, drowns it all in one go.

"Ellie?"

Shit.

She puts the glass down, walks to the living room.

"Hey. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No." Joel shakes his head. "I was still awake anyway."

It's almost four in the morning.

"Can't sleep?" she asks, knowing the answer already. 

Joel tilts his head in quiet confirmation.

"Some nights are just like that", he says, and aren't those pretty words for the things that lurk in their sleep to keep them up? 

"I know." Ellie hesitates. Something in her chest tugs towards Joel's presence, the way it always does, even if these nightmares are the only reason she ever allows herself to follow that urge now. "Do you think-"

Joel smiles, lifting his blanket with questioning eyes, and the thing in Ellie's chest curls up in relief.

"C'mon", he says softly, and it's almost on auto-pilot that she walks over then, crawling into the cocoon of Joel's warmth, instantly making her feel safe and calm. It's kind of rude of her body to be this easily affected, honestly, but she's just too drained to resist the comfort right now.

She ends up falling asleep again after all.

Doesn't even dream.

Ellie wakes to find Joel asleep, too. The first rays of the sun fall through the dirty windows - she should clean those soon - catching in his hair, lighting it up in streaks of gold where it still retained its brown colour. He looks peaceful. It's a look she's not used to, one she wishes he could wear more often.

Without thinking, she cards her fingers through his hair, and he cracks an eye open.

Ellie pulls her hand back, her heart speeding up a little at being caught like this, but the smirk that starts forming in the corner of her mouth feels natural, easy.

"That's a whole lotta grey you got in there, old man."

"Most of it's thanks to you", Joel grumbles, closing his eyes again with a smile.

Ellie shoves at his arms and he chuckles.

"You slept okay?" he asks, shifting carefully onto his side.

She nods.

"Gonna start on breakfast. Tommy, Maria and Benji said they wanna come over before Tommy's patrol." She pauses. "Wanna help?" she adds then.

Joel smiles.

"You know it, kiddo."

~oOo~

Ellie remembers how it had been when they first came to Jackson. 

The moment she'd sat on a horse, watching Joel's face light up in a way she'd never seen before in all the months they'd spent together, watching as Joel hugged his brother, his real family, the family he'd been looking for all this time.

She should've been happy for him, but she hadn't. She'd only felt empty.

She hadn't thought about what it must mean to Joel to find his brother alive after so long. She had only thought about herself, what it meant for her, for them.

That Joel had someone else now, someone better.

That he wouldn't need her anymore.

That if she'd been anything to him at all, it wouldn't matter now that he had his real family back.

I'm scared of ending up alone.

She'd only thought about losing Joel. Never about finding something for them both. Objectively, their lives had sucked before, but at least they'd had each other. Now Joel had someone else, and Ellie had selfishly wished they had stayed only the two of them.

As long as it was only the two of them, Joel would need her. Not as much as she needed him, but still. As long as she kept Joel to herself, she'd felt safe.

And she'd felt like the worst person alive. Knowing she should've been happy for him. But she just couldn't.

And then she'd heard Joel talk about ditching her, just like she'd feared, the one person she thought might give a shit about her.

But then Joel stayed. And then Silver Lake happened. And the hospital.

And then Joel had taken them back to Jackson, where she'd lived in his house like he thought she belonged there, sat at family dinners with Joel's brother and his wife. And she'd sworn she'd do her best to make them like her, and to like them, because Tommy didn't deserve her disdain just because Joel loved him more- no, bad thought.

Just because he was Joel's family in a way Ellie would never be. That's still bad, but better. 

And Tommy made it easy for her too, liking him. He was a lot like Joel, just without the perpetually-pissed frown. Maybe that's just what came out of the Miller genes if life didn't fuck you over quite that badly. Not that Tommy wasn't fucked-up in his own way, he totally was, they all were, but he'd been in Jackson for some time. Safety, comfort and community did things even to the most unstable assholes. And Tommy didn't have a Sarah. Not in the same way.

Ellie had come to care about him. Not like Joel, no one was like Joel, but it was nice, having people.

She hadn't felt this much like an imposter in quite some time. 

Like she's bying her way into this family by making herself useful, hide the blood on her hands behind cooked meals, changed sheets and assisted knee bends.

Earning back her place in this house, a place she herself had thrown away and learned to despise, right until the moment it was nearly ripped away from her for good. 

They say you don't know what you've got until it's gone. 

She'd never had a family before. It hadn't felt real. Maybe she'd never quite trusted it. Maybe that's why it had felt so easy to push it all away, like she was stripping off the mask of daughter and niece that had never been hers to own, breaking out of a box she had never quite managed to fit into, no matter how much she had wanted to belong.

But being out hadn't felt better. Not really. She'd been lying to herself about that. It's freedom, she'd told herself, it's the space I need, space from him. In truth, its only comfort was that it had been familiar, her against all the rest, relying on nothing and no one but herself and her anger at the world to push her forward.

Anger is what she does well. Anger is what had put her through FEDRA school. It was a really shitty school, but if it had taught them one thing, it was how to get by on your own, everyone for themselves.

Ellie had learned solitude as early as breathing.

She had never learned forgiveness. 

~oOo~

Ellie rips the door to her room open, angrily flinging the towel into a corner. 

She grunts in frustration, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes until they hurt, then flops down on her bed. 

Fucking stellar.

She hears shuffling from the downstairs bathroom, the sound of something dropping to the tiled floor, Joel's quiet cursing. 

Her immediate first instinct is to jump up and go check if he's alright, and that makes her even angrier. 

He doesn't want your fucking help. 

Ellie rolls onto her stomach, breathing into the darkness of her pillow. Fucking idiot. Stupid fucking proud, caring asshole. 

She turns back, a sound of frustrated agitation leaving her as she gets up, stalking over to the desk with her journal.

She scribbles on a free page, her handwriting too fast and jerky. 

Stupid. Stupid.

It had started so well. They'd been joking around, hadn't they? And then- 

"Ellie?"

Everything had been fine when Joel called for her.

"Coming!" She entered the bathroom, pointedly looking away from Joel in the bathtub. "Here, towel", she said, holding it out for him to take.

"Thanks."

She waited quietly, busing herself with laying out the stack of clothes she'd gotten ready earlier. 

"Done."

Ellie turned around, taking the towel back and putting it on the side to add to the washing later. Kneeling down, she laid out the mat to make sure Joel wouldn't slip on the wet tiles, pulling the corners to lie flat. She worked quietly, methodically, felt his eyes on her- 

She glanced up, and there he was, looking down at her with a strain to his jaw, something far too close to shame in his eyes. 

"Stop looking at me like that, Joel."

"Sorry", he muttered, but that same heavy sense of humiliation had lingered. Ellie hated it. 

"Not like it's the first time I'm playing nurse for you", she said, trying to sound lighthearted, "Remember? Much better now, actually. A proper house. Bed. Hot water. Meds- miles ahead of havin' to stitch you up with some twenty year old yarn from a dusty drawer somewhere in the middle of fucking nowhere."

Joel just grunted, pulling his good knee towards him.

"Bet it ain't gonna be the last time, either." Ellie cleared the soap away. "You're gonna be an ancient invalid soon."

"Yeah." A muscle in Joel's jaw twitched. "Right."

"So you better be nice to me", Ellie said, ignoring that he was pointedly not matching her desperate attempt to lift the mood. "Or you're gonna have Tommy look after your ass in old age. You want that?"

"Gods, no." Finally, there was a spark of amusement in his eyes. Ellie smirked back.

"Thought so."

The air felt heavy. A little joke wasn't enough to lighten the incessant weight of misery surrounding Joel whenever he was dependent on Ellie's help like this, the misplaced shame of a man too used to being the caretaker to accept the same care from the people he had taken responsibility for. Ellie's chest ached with it. 

"Joel", she said, serious. "Y'know I'm joking, right?"

Joel nodded, but something on his face wouldn't let go of that strain Ellie didn't like.

"Joel."

At least he looked at her.

"You're gonna be okay", she said, and he swallowed, didn't respond. 

"You helping me outta here anytime soon or what?" he said eventually, shaking off the weight of the moment. Classic. Ellie was a master of deflection like that herself. 

She shrugged. 

"I could actually just leave you here until you're all swelled up and wrinkly."

"'M wrinkly already anyway."

"True", she said, reaching to put Joel's arm over her shoulders.

"No, Joel", he muttered, voice comically high in a bad imitation of her, "you're not old and wrinkly, you're the picture of life and youth-"

Ellie snorted.

"You want someone to blow smoke up your ass, get Dina", she said, and he rolled his eyes.

Helping Joel out of the tub was a familiar process by now, a few practiced motions to get him onto the chair they'd put in the room, handing him the new underwear to swap out the wet ones he insisted on wearing in the bath. Ellie hadn't argued.

His hair was sticking up in all directions, curls dripping onto the tiles. Ellie grabbed another towel for him, then kneeled down to dry off Joel's feet, the part he couldn't reach himself without bending his knee too far. He was watching her with that familiar pained look, but Ellie pretended not to notice.

 "Clothes are next to the sink", she said, finishing the second foot and getting up. "Call me for help with socks."

"Thanks."

"I'll leave you to it."

She'd helped him dress in the beginning, but Joel's face had never hidden his discomfort well, and no amount of repeating that she didn't care would have changed that, so Ellie hadn't even tried. He'd insisted on doing it himself as soon as possible, and Ellie didn't have it in her to make a fight out of everything, so she'd let him. 

"Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"There's no socks."

There had to be. She always remembered to get them.

"Yeah, there are."

"Can't find any."

"There's gotta be." Ellie looked through the stack of clothes, feeling an unexpected rise of panic in her chest. "I always put them on top of-"

"On top of the shirts", Joel said, "Yeah, I know."

But he was right. He was fucking right, they weren't there, and it was like that realization made something crack inside her, darkness spilling out. She felt fucking awful so suddenly it punched the breath out of her, and she knew it was totally irrational, but she couldn't stop it - it was like missing some stupid socks was a colossal failure and not just a little insignificant thing that was quick to fix.

"I'll get them", she muttered, voice trembling.

"Ellie?" There was worry in Joel's voice. She didn't want worry. "You okay?"

She wasn't. She really fucking wasn't, and she'd felt really fucking stupid for it, and she really didn't need Joel and his stupid caring eyes to probe that wasp's nest right now. 

"I'm fine", she said, too quickly. "I'll get the socks."

"Ellie."

"Get the fuck off my back, Joel", she said sharply, feeling something bend inside her until it snapped. Why did he have to know her so fucking well? "It's just a fucking pair of socks, okay? I'm fine. I can't be on top of everything all the fucking time, this doesn't mean anything. Everything is fine so leave me the fuck alone!"

There was silence, the echo of her outburst hanging in the air. Joel was wide-eyed, a deep frown etched in his brow.

"Okay", he said slowly, carefully, like any sound might set her off again, and honestly- it might have. "You're right. It's just socks. No trouble, yeah? But maybe-" He looked at her warily. "Maybe you should take a break-"

Ellie felt the heat flare up again instantly.

"I don't need a fucking break, Joel."

You need me. I need you to need me. I need to be here and not fuck up. I don't need a break-

"I'm not saying you ain't doin' good, Ellie-"

"If you don't want me around anymore, just say it."

Ellie was surprised by those words falling out of her, but there they were. She set her jaw, stubbornly standing behind her own stupidity like her carefully crafted walls demanded. 

Joel's mouth dropped open, his hands lifting defensively. 

"I never said that", he said pointedly. "Ellie. That's not what I'm saying."

"Then don't fucking tell me to take a break when I'm fine." She breathed in shakily. "Just because I forgot your stupid socks doesn't mean I'm some sort of idiot who can't take care of stuff-"

"Of course it isn't", Joel said placatingly. "But I don't think this is actually about a pair of socks, Ellie."

It wasn't. Of course it fucking wasn't, but she didn't need that spelled out to her. Cause if it wasn't actually about the stupid socks, that meant it was about something much bigger and no- she wasn't doing this. 

"I'm just gonna get the damn socks", Ellie said, turning to the door.

"Ellie!"

"What now?" she snapped, spinning around.

"If there's something-" Joel took a breath, keeping his voice deliberately calm. "If there's ever anything- if you ain't doin' okay, you can tell me about it."

His eyes were soft, almost hopeful, and a part of her wanted to break down, to fall into him, crack open and let it all bleed out of her. She wanted to tell him. That was the worst part. She wanted to tell him that she was scared, so damn scared, all the damn time. 

That she wasn't good enough.

That there was too much broken between them.

That this anger in her chest would never go away, swallow her whole one day.

That letting this darkness go would leave her empty, pointless.

That she wouldn't know who she was anymore without all that black-red inside her. 

She wanted it so badly. But she couldn't, she wouldn't, she wouldn't give in, just needed something to push her past that burning desire to let all those secrets spill, and her anger was reliable as always to break that weakness down.

"Can you just mind your own damn business?"

Joel's face changed, hardening. Finally. This is what Ellie wanted.

She hated being the only one who can't control her fucking emotions, the only one constantly breaking what he's trying to rebuild between them. She wanted him angry too, wanted him screaming and raging at her petulance, to meet her indignation in equal measure. It made her feel like less of a piece of shit. 

She deserved to be yelled at, it was so much easier to take than tenderness and care. 

"No, I can't actually mind my business", Joel said, jaw tight. "Maybe you want me to not give a damn about you, but I do, Ellie, and I ain't stopping, so if you really hate it that much you should've thought of that before deciding to do this."

It hit her hard, harder than it should, maybe harder even than he had intended. Because this was her fear, driving him away because she could never fucking say what she actually meant, that her walls would actually make him stop giving a shit eventually just because she couldn't tell him how much she needed him to care.

"Oh, fuck you!"

"You're the one who decided to come back here", Joel said, voice hard. "You inisted on doing all this- This ain't on me, Ellie-" You're the one who decided I had to live, Ellie heard in those words. "But no one is forcing you, you know you don't gotta be here-"

"Well, maybe I shouldn't be."

Joel was silent, hurt flashing over his face before it hardened into a mask of carefully maintained indifference.

She knew that face. She grabbed the used towel, didn't stay around to hear what Joel might say next.

Her pen scratches across the paper, words smeared, crossed out, rewritten. 

Chapter Text

Ellie spends the night curled up in her bed upstairs, wrapped around a stupidly soft white blanket with pink and blue check pattern that Joel had gotten hold of who knows where to gift to her when they first moved in.

She doesn't even go down for dinner. Her stomach is in tight knots, food the last thing on her mind, and she doesn't want to risk running into Joel.

She had secretly made sure he'd somehow managed to make it back to the bed in the living room, and that there was still leftovers on the little table he could reach- but that doesn't mean anything, okay? Just because she's angry at everything and everyone -mostly herself, but let's not go there- doesn't mean she wants Joel to starve on the fucking bathroom floor. She's not a monster. Not that way, at least.

She doesn't sleep at all that night, but maybe that's for the best. Her dreams are still red. Fields of crimson clover, rooms drenched in blood. Having a purpose in Joel again had helped, but after last night, who knows what her subconscious demons would come up with.

Her waking brain is bad enough, replaying Joel's words in her head, inventing worse and worse versions of the things she could throw back in his face.

"No one is forcing you, you know you don't gotta be here-"

"Well, maybe I shouldn't be."

Maybe she shouldn't be.

Worse- what if he doesn't want her to be.

She has to get up eventually.

Ellie doesn't talk at all that morning, wordlessly handing Joel a breakfast plate that he accepts just as silently. It's the beginning of a peace offering that isn't quite ready to be given openly, and who knows, maybe it isn't ready to be heard yet, either.

She barely talks the rest of the day, and Joel doesn't push her to. She's got to admit that she's learned to appreciate that about Joel during their travels, his ability to just sit in silence, sometimes calm and brooding beyond what a fourteen-year-old could take, but then again he's always had that knack to know when she needs time and space.

He doesn't comment on her sudden case of selective mutism, doesn't ask her for anything, doesn't call for help when she flees back to her room upstairs, taking the machine of washed and dried socks she had made sure to get done first thing this morning before the sun was even up. She spends an hour folding them up, collecting them in a basket like each new pair added might magically cure the cracks inside her chest.

She doesn't go down to check if he needs anything. She thinks about it constantly.

It's almost five by the time Ellie finally finds her way back into the living room, sock basket clasped tightly like a safety shield. She drops it in front of the bathroom door, pretends not to notice that Joel is watching her from the corner of his eye, one of those looks on his face.

It's later still when she actually breaks the silence.

Joel is sprawled along the couch, and she had quietly sought his presence even now, stubbornly ignoring the tension as she'd curled up in the opposite corner.

"Hey, Joel?"

He looks up from the papers Maria brought over, some kind of construction stuff Ellie hadn't asked about. His reading glasses sit low on his nose, his eyes a little unfocused when he looks at her, always so deeply concentrated when he's sinking into that boring ass paperwork. It's a way for Joel to still feel useful right now. But he always listens when she tries to talk to him, even now, visibly surprised to hear her speak at all.

"I was wondering", she says, swallowing, "I've been cleaning a bit in your work shop room up there, with all your wood stuff. And I was thinking maybe you could teach me some of that? Just like the basics, I mean."

It's the outstretched hand she can't show in the way he deserves.

It's I'm sorry.

It's Don't send me away.

Joel sets his pen down, blinking.

"Didn't know you were interested in that sorta thing."

Ellie shrugs.

Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it-

"But we can do that, if you want", he adds slowly. "Yeah. Sure."

Just like that, Ellie can breathe again.

"Cool", she says, swallowing hard.

"You'd have to get some materials down here, set up something like a work bench..."

"Yeah." Ellie nods quickly. "Just lemme know what you need."

Joel gives her a small, careful smile that strikes deeper than the bite wounds hidden across her body. This is him taking her outstretched hand. She doesn't deserve it, but she'll take it.

It's enough.

It's what pushes her to actually say it.

"You were right, by the way."

Joel's eyebrow lifts.

"Well, there's a sentence I don't hear a lot."

"Joel."

Joel's face turns serious and solemn instantly, his full focus on Ellie.

"Sorry", he says. "Go on."

Before they came to live in Jackson, he'd been the only adult Ellie could remember ever apologizing to her, and being this genuine about it, too.

"What you said. About it not...being the socks." Ellie tugs her feet closer. "I shouldn't've said what I said. I'm sorry."

Joel's lips part, something open and fragile on his face for a second that reminds Ellie of the little bleeding thing in her own chest.

"It's okay", he says softly. "If I said anything that was-" Joel clears his throat. "'M sorry, too."

Ellie nods, hugging her knees to herself.

"You...uhm. Wanna talk about- all that?"

Joel shifts, looking away from her to adjust his leg. Maybe he just does it so Ellie won't be crushed under the weight of his gaze, his gentleness, his care.

"I don't-" I don't know how. She barely knows how to order the feelings in her own head. Showing them to Joel feels damn near impossible. "I'm not ready."

Joel nods seriously.

"Okay", he says, like it actually is okay to feel the way she feels, and not the fucked-up mess Ellie knows she is. "If you ever wanna tell me, y'know. I'll be here."

That's a scary thought, but it's also stupidly comforting.

Ellie doesn't reply, but Joel knows.

She has to believe that he knows. 

~oOo~

Her journal lies in her room, quietly waiting. 

Sometimes Ellie is almost scared of everything those pages hold, the secrets poured into them, feelings made flesh in words on paper. 

So many things she can't say that have been trapped in ink, flowing unfiltered from her mind onto the page, so her wild, muddled emotions can have a place to rest. It doesn't silence them, but it helps to have a way to let them out that's safe and hidden- hidden from Joel, and sometimes even from herself when she needs it to be.

Ellie hasn't opened some of those pages in weeks, maybe months. There are those she wrote while she'd been waiting next to a hospital bed, helpless and scared. There are those she wrote in anger, those she wrote in fear. There are also those she wrote before, about days with dinosaurs and space ships, when everything felt brighter. She can't bear thinking about it now.

Ellie flips to the most recent page, the one she wrote between an assortment of socks scattered across her bed, when her anger had dissipated like smoke concealing the truth in her heart, the pain of another failed attempt laid bare. Her best efforts dropped and shattered, soft black socks like broken shards cutting her hands as she folded them into pairs of two. 

There had been a time when she'd felt part of a pair like this. A group of the two of them, when she'd belonged to someone other than herself and the whims of her darkest instincts. 

Maybe she wants Joel to be angry because it makes him feel closer to her when she loses control, makes her feel like they're still the same. Maybe she needs Joel to be angry to punish herself. 

But it's not really anger she wants. Anger is what's familiar, what's safe. What she wants is unknown and scary, shoved far down in a box so it won't come out and jump at her. 

But she can't hide it from the pages of her journal. She can't hide from her own heart. 

~oOo~

"How'd you even get these?"

Ellie turns one of the carving knives in her hand.

"Made some myself", Joel mutters. "Had some made."

Ellie hums, poking her thumb with the pointy end of...whatever this fucking tool is called.

"What do you wanna make?" Joel asks, taking the thing away from her with a pointed look.

"Dunno. What can you teach me?” She picks up another knife just to tease him, grinning when he lifts a warning eyebrow. “Nothing big yet. Gift for Dina, maybe?"

“Bear?” Joel suggests. “For your dumb little Barbecue joke.” And nope, Ellie’s chest doesn’t fill with warmth knowing that he remembers that, shut up.

"Okay. Let's start with some basics”, Joel says, falling easily into his teacher-Joel voice. “Different types of carving: Whittling, that’s good for beginners, basically just carving a piece of wood with a knife. Pocketknife will do. Chip carving, that’s where you carve patterns into a flat piece of wood. Can do that as a beginner too, just needs a bit more precision and practice. Carving in the Round is where you make 3D stuff. But that’s for later, we’ll do whittling first.”

Ellie nods, listening attentively. She kind of loves it when Joel starts taking about stuff like this, when it’s obvious he knows his shit, stuff he’s passionate about.

“Type of wood really makes a difference”, Joel goes on. “Pine, for example? Not great, full of knots. What you want-“ He reaches over to grab a piece of untreated wood. “Lime wood. Linden tree. Nice and soft, easy to cut. And thankfully native to Wyoming.”

He passes the chunk to Ellie, let’s her feel the weight, the texture.

“Now.” He points to the first knife in his toolkit. “Sloyd Knife”, he explains. “Most common carving knife, got a nice strong blade to remove large sections, and a sharp pointed tip for detail. This one’s good for roughing out a carving shape. Next one, Bench Knife, this is great for beginners like you, good for any small, precise cuts and detail.”

He lets his hand glide over the tools, muttering commentary as he goes.

“Chip Carving Knives, don’t need those for now. Chisels and Mallets, every carver got these, most efficient method to get rid of wood pieces, fast and precise. More for bigger projects, though. Same with these over here, only they’re bent at an angle, see? For cutting corners. And here you got sandpaper for smoothing the surface when you’re done carving.”

Ellie follows, nodding along.

“Ah”, Joel says then, “we’re still missin’ the most important thing. Any idea?”

“Dunno.” Ellie grins. “Chainsaw?”

Joel huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Jeez.” He pulls an assortment of stones out of a box he told Ellie to bring down, lining them up on the makeshift worktop they turned an old table from the garage into.

“Sharpening tools”, Joel says. “There’s different kinds, I like to have a couple sharpening stones with different grit options. A sharp knife goes a long way, saves a lotta muscle strength, makes for cleaner cuts.”

“Got it. If you wanna cut wood, don’t cut back on sharpening.”

Joel shakes his head to himself, giving her an exasperated look that Ellie counters with a smirk.

“Jesus", he mutters. "But yeah. Pretty much.”

He reaches to clear the space right in front of Ellie again, putting the tools he pulled out to show her back into the pockets of their soft leather binder.

“You don’t gotta remember all this, by the way. If you got questions, just ask. Ain’t like I got anything better to do anyway.” Joel leans back, clapping his hands on his thighs with a nod at the piece of lime wood. “So, best practice is in just trying what works for you, what knives you like. Just…pick one of these and cut away. But-“

He stops Ellie’s hands, one of those strong-bladed knives he said were good for first shaping already halfway to the wood.

“Safety first”, Joel says, so serious she half expects him to take out a full suit of armour, or a helmet at the very least. “Gloves”, Joel says instead, producing a pair from God knows where.

Ellie takes them with an eye roll, surprised to find they fit her perfectly. Those can’t be a pair of Joel’s usual ones.

“Where the fuck did you get these?”

Joel smirks, shrugs.

“I got my sources.”

“Damn”, Ellie says dryly. “Mysterious.”

It’s definitely Tommy. Or Jesse, maybe. Doesn’t really matter. What matters is that he knew she wanted to do this, he thought about it, thought about what she’d need, and he made sure to get it for her even though he can’t even leave the house. It’s such a stupid little thing, really, but it makes Ellie feel warm all over.

"Y'know what you could do while we sit here?"

Joel looks at her suspiciously and she smiles, feigning innocence.

"What?"

"Seated knee flexion.” Ellie presses her lips together against the smile. “You know how they go. Ten reps, c'mon."

"Fucking Hell.” Joel sighs, but he’s already sitting up straighter, positioning his legs. “Yeah, sure, whatever."

He still pretends to be irritated every time Ellie pushes him to do his exercises, but he's stopped arguing at this point, doesn't even manage to hold back his smile most of the time.

Joel hooks the ankle of his healthy leg over the other, bending his injured knee by sliding his feet under his chair until he really feels the stretch, holds, then straightens his legs again.

"And you", he says, snapping in front of Ellie's face as he starts to repeat the motion. "Focus. Here."

"Yup. Okay. So...." She picks up the knife that Joel said is good for easily cutting away big pieces. Sloyd, right? "I just like...hack away at it?"

"Hack away with purpose and a plan."

Ellie already knows she's going to love this. 

"Awesome."

~oOo~

Ellie hurries down the stairs in the dark. 

The groans and whimpers that had carried up to her room where she'd been lying awake for hours without finding sleep mix with the sound of her steps on creaking wood, the rustling of bedsheets as she rounds the corner to the living room. 

Why wouldn't he call her? It's got to be his leg acting up again, they fucking talked about this, he knows he's supposed to call and get her when it gets bad, who cares that it's the middle of the night-

"Joel, what's wrong? Is your leg-" 

Ellie stops in the doorway, surprised not to find him up trying to bite back the pain from his knee. He's still asleep, hands twitching, his head turning restlessly. 

"Joel?" 

Ellie knows the deep furrow in his brow, the sounds of distress as his eyes move wildly behind closed lids. She's seen Joel have nightmares before, mostly when they were still travelling together trying to find the Fireflies, even if she'd never dared ask him about them back then. 

"Joel." She shakes him, but there's no reaction. "Joel, c'mon." 

His face twitches, then his whole body seems to flinch violently.

"Joel!"

His eyes fly open, his breathing fast, ragged. When he looks at her, there's something haunted in his eyes that makes Ellie's stomach turn - something scared and broken she's never seen on Joel's face before, not terrifyingly unguarded like this.

Joel seems to need a second to focus, she's not even sure if he recognizes her at first, but then Joel's face breaks open, tension snapping as his body seems to fold in relief and collapse into the mattress, his hands reaching frantically for any part of Ellie they can find. 

"Ellie?" His voice trembles, nothing left of the careful guards he usually puts up to disguise the open emotion on his face. "Ellie."

"Yeah." She nods, taking one of his hands that he instantly clings to. 

"You're okay?" He looks at her like he can't believe she's real, still half-caught in whatever dream reality his mind trapped him in. His free hand finds her face, rough fingertips grazing over her cheek.

"I'm okay", Ellie says, trying to make her voice calm and reassuring. "I'm right here, see? We're both okay."

"I'm sorry." Joel's face twists in agony. "I'm so sorry. It should've been me. I'm sorry, baby, I-"

Ellie shakes her head. She doesn't even want to know what he's talking about, it wouldn't matter anyway.

"It's okay", she repeats. "Look. Look. You're home with me, yeah?" 

Joel's fingers cling to her a second longer, then he blinks slowly, sucking in a sharp breath as he releases her hand.

"Fuck." Joel rubs his hands over his face, driving through his messy hair. "Dream", he mutters, talking to himself. "Just a dream." 

"Yeah." Ellie hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder, not sure what to do. It's usually Joel who comforts her after dreams like this, not the other way around. And he's always so good with that, too, knowing just what she needs. She doesn't really know how to be the same for him, even though she wants to.

But he doesn't shrug her hand off, allows it to rest there. Ellie takes that as permission to sit down on the edge of the bed, waiting as Joel keeps his eyes closed, visibly trying to slow his breathing. 

When he opens his eyes again, there's one of those pained looks Ellie has come to hate. His eyes are a little red-rimmed, his face tired. It's a kind of exhaustion Ellie is intimately familiar with, and it feels...strangely comforting. Knowing that Joel struggles with this shit, too. That it's not just her fucked-up mind and her fucked-up emotions. 

She should probably feel terrible for it, but it makes her feel like she's not alone. 

"Okay?" she asks, lightly squeezing Joel's shoulder.

"I'm fine."

That's a fucking lie. Ellie would know all about those. 

"How late is it?" Joel asks, throwing a glance at the clock on the wall showing just after 3:30 am. "Fuck. Did I wake you? Sorry-"

Ellie shakes her head, pulls her hand back.

"Don't worry about it", she says, knowing he's going to anyway. 

Silence settles, only the ticking of the clock, Ellie notices Joel's fingers twitching towards her, but his hand stays where it lies on the blanket. He looks at her, and there's still a little something of that deep emotion in his eyes from when he'd just woken up, that relief, even if it's more controlled now-

It's not hard to put the pieces together, that he'd been dreaming about her in some way, and Ellie is tempted to ask about it after all, despite the whole thought scaring her beyond belief. She doesn't want to be the stuff Joel's nightmares are made of, but then again, he's what makes up all of hers, too. And maybe, maybe his dreams could be like hers, maybe he's scared of losing her the same way she is, maybe that means they're still them after all despite everything and all his lies and all her bullshit and-

"You should go back to bed", Joel says, clearing his throat as he looks away. "It's still early. 'M sorry I got you up."

She doesn't want to go. She doesn't think he wants her to go, either. 

"Do you want me to go?"

It takes a while for him to answer, lips pressed tight, refusing to look at her. 

"You should go to your room", he mutters eventually. "Don't want you dealin' with this."

There it is. Her permission to herself to stay right where she is. Sure, it's a little fucked that it's easier for her to do when it means going against what Joel says he wants, but it's not like Joel has ever known her to do what he think she should be doing, right?

"Well." Ellie shifts where she's sitting on the bed, inching a little further onto the mattress. "Sucks for you, then. Scoot."

"Ellie-"

"Scoot. Over." Ellie stares him down, watches as his jaw hardens. "I swear to God, Joel, if you don't make room right now, I'm just gonna lie down on top of you, bad leg or not." 

For a few more seconds, she's sure he's gonna argue, but then the tension bleeds out of him, his face relaxing with a huff. 

"Pushy", he mutters in that irritated tone that never quite convinces her, rolling over to make room for her.

"You bet."

Ellie crawls under the blanket, settling on her back far enough away that they aren't touching. 

Joel is stiff beside her, shoulders tense, she can feel it, and for a moment she wonders if she's actually miscalculated, if he really didn't want her to be here- but just as she starts spiralling into those thoughts, Joel sighs, relaxing beside her. There's a quiet rustling of the sheets, a slow, barely there movement, and then Ellie feels just the hint of a touch, the outside of his pinky finger finding where her hand is under the covers. 

It's only a featherlight point of contact, but it makes tears well up in Ellie's eyes unbidden. She doesn't look at him, but it takes only a moment to decide to move her hand, wordlessly placing it over Joel's until their fingers slot together.

Joel doesn't speak, his hand doesn't even twitch, nothing at all to acknowledge her touch, but she can hear how he takes in a shaky breath beside her. 

"Just a dream", she hears in a barely audible whisper as she looks at the dark ceiling. "Just a dream." 

Chapter Text

Ellie wakes up with her head pillowed on Joel's arm, scooted closer in her sleep, or maybe he's the one who closed the distance, who knows.

She should pull away, at least she should want to pull away- but he looks so calm, his breathing deep and peaceful in a way she doesn't hear often enough, and the thought of disturbing that rare state of peace makes it impossible for her to actually move from her spot. She can indulge in it here, where the uncontrolled instincts of a sleeping mind are a convenient excuse to blame.

It reminds her of the days they'd spent hiding away in a cabin after Silver Lake, huddling together for warmth against the snow piling up against their four walls, or at least Ellie liked to have that excuse to keep close to Joel's solid frame - back when his presence, the feeling of his shirt bunched between her fingers, was the only thing holding the panic at bay. When the whisper of his soothing words was the only thing that kept away the fear of David's hands coming to hold her down, fighting the monster that hid in the darkness behind her closed eyelids.

If she can do anything to fight Joel's monsters for him now, she will.

Ellie closes her eyes again, lets the gentle rhythm of Joel's steady breathing lure her back to sleep the same way it had done countless times waiting next to a hospital bed.

The next time she wakes, it's with one of Joel's arms lying draped across her ribs, his eyes still closed and breathing deep and steady.

The clock tells her that Jesse will be here soon. She's started taking up patrols again this month, and when she'd told Joel she'd known he would have liked to protest, but he hadn't.

Ellie knew why. He's learned his lesson from last time he tried to take her off patrols, but it's more than that. He knows she needs this, getting out, feeling useful in a way that isn't tied to him. They both need to learn how to be comfortable leaving each other's space, he knows that, and he hadn't argued. It's hard for her too, leaving him on his own, and maybe that's what made it easier for him to let her go.

Ellie carefully winds out from under Joel's arm, mindful not to disturb him too much. She washes up and dresses quietly in the dark, tying up her hair in the familiar half-bun. Her gun is waiting by the door.

She refills the glass of water that always sits next to Joel's bed, throws a glance at the time to make sure she has a few minutes before Jesse is supposed to come around.

Leaning down over the bed, she gently jostles Joel's sleeping form, soothingly patting his arm when his eyes blink open.

"Everything's fine", Ellie whispers quickly, and Joel relaxes. They're so trained to expect the worst every time they're woken up, it's so deeply wired in their every cell. Ellie doesn't think it'll ever go away.

"Sorry for waking you up", she says quietly, "but I'm off on patrol with Jesse. Did you need anything before I go?"

He looks over at the water Ellie has already made sure to refill, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

"Don't think so."

Ellie nods.

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure. Go back to sleep, yeah?"

She turns to leave, but he snatches her hand.

"Hey." Joel lets her hand go, looking almost apologetic, like he isn't sure he's allowed to touch her like that. "Be careful out there?"

Not too long ago, Ellie would have hated him saying that. It would've made her angry, would've made her snap at him to shut up and stop patronising her.

But that was before.

Before she watched him get beaten half to death in front of her. Before she bathed her hands in red for him.

"I will", she says, and she actually means it this time. "See you later, old man. Try and get some more sleep."

Joel nods, lips curving in something that could almost be a smile.

"Later, kiddo."

~oOo~

Ellie hadn't thought about this route probably taking them close to the lodge.

She hadn't even tried to look for it, but there it is. It looks different now, with all the snow gone, freezing white blankets turned to green on the trees surrounding the building that sits so innocently over there in the distance.

Ellie pulls on the reins, signalling Shimmer to pause, standing still with her eyes stuck on that place, so quiet and unassuming from the outside. It feels almost mocking to her, the way no one who hadn't been there to see would ever suspect the horrors that took place behind those walls, hiding away the ghosts that haunt only Ellie now, a sea of red she can still feel lapping at her and rising up to her throat.

Her stomach turns, a sudden surge of vertigo threatening to overcome her as she forces her eyes closed, gripping the saddle to steady herself.

It hasn't been this bad in a while.

Ellie isn't sure what triggers it. Seeing that place, maybe, but some days it's just there without anything at all to explain why it's worse then than it had been the day before. Sometimes she'll just feel it all day, like there's something sticking to her she can't get off, like it's branded into her being.

She feels itchy, like her skin doesn't fit right over her bones. She usually tries showers, turning the water a little too hot, like maybe it'll burn away whatever stains are clinging to her, but of course it doesn't help. Nothing ever helps.

She has trouble with people touching her sometimes when she feels like this, knows that Dina has noticed even if she hasn't asked, and Ellie hasn't wanted to explain. All that would do is make Dina worry, and she doesn't need that added to list of things to feel shitty about herself.

Concentrating on work and Joel helps a bit, but it can't get rid of that incessant itch, the discomfort of something that has seeped into her very skin where she can't even cut it out the way she's done with her bite marks, a guilt and hatred digging into her depths in such a final way that Ellie is terrified they've taken root in her very soul, terrified she'll never get rid of this feeling again.

There's the sound of hooves coming up beside her, and Ellie forces her eyes to open again, can't resist another glance at the lodge.

Jesse must have noticed her stopping, coming back to stand next to her as he follows her gaze.

There's a long moment of silence, Jesse's eyes slowly wandering back to look at her profile while she stubbornly keeps staring into the distance. He already knows what she's looking at, he already knows why.

"You good?"

He does his best not to sound too worried, knows Ellie hates that, but he's always been pretty good at hitting that spot between showing care and keeping a distance Ellie appreciates.

"Fine", Ellie says, ripping her eyes away from that place. "Let's move on."

She knows he doesn't believe her, but he doesn't say anything. He just nods, motioning for her to lead Shimmer down the route.

Ellie is glad for it. Maybe the thing about being fine is a lie. It's most definitely a lie. But who has ever told the truth when they say they're fine, anyway.

Moving on, though, that's not a lie. She has to move the fuck on, she knows that. In more ways than one.

Ellie doesn't look back at that damn place again.

~oOo~

There are voices from the living room when Ellie gets back, the front door closing quietly behind her.

She looks around the corner, pausing when she sees Dina standing in the kitchen adjacent to the living room, both hands supporting her as she leans over the sink with her eyes closed.

"Hey, you alright there, kiddo?"

She can't see Joel's bed from here, but something twists in Ellie's gut at the sound of his voice, the affectionate worry there - hearing Joel use that nickname for Dina. Of course she wants them to be close, they're the two most important people in her life, but she can't help the little twinge of jealousy rising like bile in her throat.

Those nicknames are supposed to be hers.

"I'm fine." Dina waves dismissively, one hand still propping her up on the edge of the sink. "It's nothing. Just had a bit of nausea recently, that's all."

"Should have that checked out", Joel's voice carries over, and Dina nods, smoothing her hair back as she pushes herself away from the kitchen counter, walking out of Ellie's sight, probably to the bed.

Dina didn't tell her she hasn't been feeling well. Now that she thinks about it, maybe she hasn't been seeing her as much the last two weeks or so. Not that she owns Dina or something.

It's probably nothing anyway, right? Some stomach bug?

It's gonna be nothing. It's just that there had been that fight with Joel, and maybe she's been too distracted to notice?

"You got the plans ready?" she hears Dina say.

"All here."

There's the rustling of paper, Joel rambling on about some details he worked out for Maria, something about the pipes he recites in his Joel-the-contractor voice. Ellie only listens with half an ear.

"Anyway. There you go. If Maria got questions she can come over or send you anytime, yeah?"

"Great, thanks", Dina says. "Bye, Joel."

"See you, kiddo." There it is again, along with a smile in Joel's voice. Ellie's gonna have to get rid of that irrational stab in her gut real quick. "Take care."

She quickly sneaks back to the door, not even sure why she feels the need to pretend that she only just got in, it's not like she's been overhearing some secret conversation, but that's what she does.

Dina rounds the corner, finds Ellie in the doorway, just closing the door behind her.

"Oh, hey."

"Hi." Dina smiles, beautiful and carefree as ever, coming over to kiss Ellie's cheek. "Good patrol?"

Ellie shrugs.

"Still alive, so."

Dina waves Joel's papers in front of her.

"Gotta go", she says, "need to drop these off before KP. But I'll see you soon, yeah?"

She sounds normal, looks normal. There's nothing that would justify the heavy feeling in Ellie's gut.

"Yeah", she agrees, smiling.

Dina lets her free hand glide down Ellie's arm in goodbye, turning to leave, but Ellie catches her hand in the last second.

"Hey, uhm." She turns Dina's hand, links their fingers together. "You'd tell me if there was something up with you. Right?"

Dina's brow furrows, a wry smile on her lips. Then it broadens into her usual bright smile, but Ellie didn't miss the second of suspicious hesitation in her eyes there.

"Of course", Dina says, squeezing her hand.

"And..." Ellie lifts her eyebrows.

"And... I'm good", Dina says, mirroring her. Then she grins, stepping in to give Ellie a quick peck on the corner of her mouth. "Seriously, El, I'm fine. And I gotta run."

She frees her hand from Ellie's grip, throwing a look back at her as she walks over to the door.

"Tell Joel a bad pun from me."

Ellie does her best to smile.

"Will do."

She looks after her when Dina walks over to the door, a bit of a skip in her step.

She's fine. They're fine.

Ellie takes a breath.

It's fine. 

Joel is in bed reading when she walks into the room. She drops her jacket over the back of the couch, quickly going to the sink. The cold water runs down her arm, washing away some tiny red scabs that have already formed on her elbow.

Paper rustles, and Ellie rubs over her arm quickly, but Joel has already put his book aside, and she sees him looking at her from the corner of her eye.

"Ellie?"

Ellie turns the water off, takes the disinfectant wipes out of the cupboard.

"Ellie, were you hurt?"

"It's just a scratch, Joel", she says, dabbing at the reddened skin. "Relax."

She doesn't look at him, pointedly turning her back to him as she hears him quietly swearing behind her.

"You said you'd be careful-"

"And I was-" She turns, sees how he's trying to get up, the absolute fucking moron. "Jesus Christ, are you insane?"

Ellie drops the wipe into the sink, crossing the distance with a few quick steps.

"Sit the fuck back down, Joel, what the hell?"

She pushes his shoulder back and he groans, but doesn't fight her, grabbing her arm instead to try and look at the scratch marks there.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I promise." Ellie pulls away, ignores the hurt in Joel's eyes when she winds her arm out of his grip, away from his touch. "Shimmer got spooked, I was concentrated on scouting and distracted, so I fell and scratched my arm. No big deal. No Infected, nothing to worry about", she says pointedly. “Now will you fucking relax and keep your ass on the bed?"

He huffs, but stays, leaning back and closing his eyes for a second, but he's still breathing too fast, too uneven, his knuckles white around the edge of the bed frame.

Hers had looked just like that, clinging to a hospital bed not too long ago.

Ellie presses her lips together, feeling really fucking terrible really fucking fast, because she fucking knows what it's like to feel helpless and useless and sick to your stomach with worry, and she should be glad he cares instead of punishing him for it, even when he's being too damn much sometimes- but she just never fucking learns, does she?

Ellie rests a hand on her hip, taking a deep breath to stifle the frustration bubbling up in her.

Why is all of this so fucking hard?

Ellie sighs.

"Joel." She sits down next to him, feels the mattress dip under her weight. She holds out her arm to him, nudges him to show he's allowed to touch her. "There, look. It really is just a scratch, see? I'm okay."

He takes her arm, thumb gently stroking her skin next to the scrape. He swallows, nods, but doesn't let her go.

"Are you okay?"

That seems to pull him out of it, shoulders slumping as he sighs deeply, dropping her arm to rub at his eyes.

"Fuck", he mutters, shaking his head, but if it's in answer to her question Ellie isn't sure. "I didn't wanna do this anymore", Joel says, almost apologetic. "I know you don't want- you hate it when I do this, I know that. I get it, I overreact. And I know I do that a lot, but I-"

"Was it-" Ellie hesitates. "Because of last night?"

He nods.

"It's fine", she says. "I get it."

"Don't think you do."

He's fiddling with his watch.

Ellie noticed he does that a lot, recently more than before. She'd worn it while he was in the hospital, stared at it for hours. Broken time.

Joel follows her gaze, pulling his hand back from the cracked dial.

"You can ask”, he mumbles. “It's okay."

Ellie tilts her head.

"So, what's with the watch?"

Joel sighs.

"It's a reminder."

"Of Sarah?" she asks carefully. It's not like she's not allowed to ask about Sarah, it hasn't been like that in a long time. Joel had talked about her more often after the hospital. But it still feels like something forbidden to her, a piece of Joel's life that she'll never really have a connection to, because it belongs to a time before her, before her and Joel were her and Joel.

Joel had been part of something different then. He'd probably even been a different Joel than the one she has and knows now. It's strange to think about, a little painful, sometimes.

Because Joel had been happy in a life before Ellie, in a life without her- while the only life even close to something resembling happiness for her has been undeniably tied to Joel, always. 

"Sarah's part of it”, Joel says, turning his arm to look properly at the watch. “She got it fixed for me for my birthday, day the outbreak happened."

"Ah.” The corner of Ellie’s mouth twitches, lightly bumping her shoulder against Joel’s. “So you sucked at getting stuff done for yourself even back then, huh?"

Joel gives her a sharp look, but there’s no genuine irritation behind it.

"You wanna hear the story or not?"

Ellie lifts her hands in surrender, leaning back and making a motion across her lips, mimicking a closing zipper, and he rolls his eyes at her with just the hint of a smile.

"Had this forever”, Joel says then. “This actually used to be my dad's watch. When Tommy and I were younger, I always remember him wearing this. He was a cop, so sometimes bein' on time could be the difference between life and death for someone. I got it when he died-"

"And you wear it to remember him?" Ellie asks, but Joel’s face darkens, shaking his head.

"Not exactly. You see, my dad- he wasn't-" He sighs, turning to look at her. "He wasn't a bad man, but- he wasn't a good man, either." Ellie can see he’s trying not to make that sound too heavy, like it isn’t something still weighing on him. “Different times”, Joel says, “and we'd get into trouble a lot, Tommy more than me, but I'd take the blame as much as I could. Wore long sleeves a lot 'cause of it."

The implication can’t be lost on her. Ellie swallows hard.

"That's why I wear this”, Joel says seriously. “As a reminder to- try and do a little better than he did."

He doesn’t look at her, but Ellie doesn’t need him to in order to feel the weight of those words, the way something in him is reaching out for her to hear the meaning behind it.

"You are", she finds herself saying, voice quiet.

Joel smiles, still not looking at her.

"I'm not so sure about that."

"You are", she insists. "You'd never-" 

"No.” His head turns, his eyes so full Ellie feels a little overwhelmed with it. “No, but I've hurt you”, Joel says. “Just not like that. Don't mean it wasn't just as bad, maybe worse."

Ellie doesn't know what to say to that, can't say he's wrong, because he's not, and silence spreads like fungus, choking her until Joel eventually looks away, wiping quickly over the corners of his eyes.

"Anyway." He clears his throat. "You didn't sign up for a whole soapbox about my life as a kid. That ain't why I'm tellin' you this. Just..." He presses his lips together, "I know I ain't doing perfect, and I know I'm never gonna. But I am trying. I'm trying. And I hope that's worth something, at least."

It is. It’s worth everything to someone like Ellie, who’s never had anyone care enough to try for her. Someone like Ellie, who never does anything but try and fail herself, who feels like the impossible act of trying is the only thing that keeps her from slipping and falling into a darkness she wouldn’t come back from.

"I know you are", is all she says, all she can say.

This is her, trying. And it seems to be enough for now.

Joel nods, giving her knee a little acknowledging squeeze.

They’re both silent when Ellie gets up to finish disinfecting her arm. They’re both silent until she’s finished, until she stands by the sink, breathing through that heaviness left in her chest.

She turns, hands supported on the counter behind her.

"Joel?” He looks at her, and she swallows. “I'm glad you told me."

~oOo~