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Sierra Nevada - Chapter II - Ellie/Abby

Chapter II: Hemorrhage (Work length ~2.2k) This work is rated M for canon-typical violence and gore. Please look here for a full list of warnings for the series, specific warnings will be provided at the start of each chapter. This chapter contains: violent injury (stabbing), a critically injured minor, swearing, canon-typical violence including guns and threats, blood loss, off-page sutures, and technically underage drinking. Previous Chapter - Full Series

Abby

By the time the raider has hit the ground of the gas station they’re trying to loot, three bullets lodged in his chest, it’s too late. Lev is on the ground trying not to scream, biting his hand and trembling as he curls into himself. He only manages to stay quiet for a second before he sobs, free hand squeezing just above the knife wound.

Abby only has a second to panic before she falls to her knees beside him, assessing the situation as quickly as she can. It wasn’t a clean cut— the bastard tried to rip the knife out sideways once it was in, only managing to leave an open, jagged cut. It’s too late to leave the knife in until they get to safety, already torn out by the weight of a dead hand.

There’s a lot of blood. Lev is struggling to stay quiet, hands trembling as he tries to sit himself up. From the little medical knowledge she picked up from her father, she knows this is just as bad as it looks. She picks up the knife, still dripping with blood and water from the puddle it landed in, and saws off the remaining denim of his jeans. The metal clangs to the ground as she tosses it aside, wrapping the fabric over the wound and tying a snug knot.

“No, Abby, it’s not tight enough-”

“It doesn’t need to be— come on, just keep pressure on it, I got you.” She’s not as strong as she was, not yet, but she can still pick him up without too much of an issue. He buries his face into her shirt and wraps an arm around her neck, pressing the knotted denim into the wound.

“Abby-” He’s trying so hard not to cry, she can hear it in his voice. She doesn’t make him keep the act up.

“Just hold on. We’ll find somewhere to get help.”

Lev nods after a moment, taking in a shaky breath.

“Please hurry.”

Ellie

“Help, please—”

There’s a voice outside. Ellie hasn’t heard another person’s voice since Sacramento— a bitter memory she’d rather forget. It’s probably no good if someone’s out here at all, let alone trying to draw attention.

The house is pretty well barricaded. Ellie’s had nothing to do for the better part of a year, nothing but fixing things to keep her busy. Whoever’s out there isn’t getting in.

“I can see the lights, damnit, I— I have a kid, he’s hurt, please!”

Ellie grits her teeth. Of course it’s a kid. It’s a likely story, but not one Ellie’s going to fall for. Whoever it is sounds desperate- hopefully she finds some other sucker to give her what she needs.

Still, she loads the shotgun she keeps by the front door, just in case. She’s more than confident in the security she’s set up, but it’s worth being prepared.

“We can trade with you, I can help with anything you need, please—”

There’s a crack in the wood she’s used to board up the windows, just barely big enough for her to peek through onto the porch. It’s a little blurry, but when she gets a good angle…

Ellie unlocks the door and throws it open, aiming the shotgun right between her eyes.

She’d be lying if she said Abby hasn’t been on her mind a lot in the last year. Even now, so long after everything—

Jesus. It’s been almost three years, hasn’t it?

“What do you want?”

Her eyes widen when she sees Ellie, tensing as she holds the kid tighter. “You…”

“What do you fucking want?” She can’t help but shout as Abby takes a step back, and for a moment Ellie thinks she’ll just turn tail and run.

Somehow, she doesn’t.

“He’s— he’s hurt. Please.” Abby’s changed, since the last time they spoke. She almost looks like Santa Barbara never happened. She’s eaten, grown her hair back out, almost back to the woman Ellie hunted down twice. There’s color in her face again, even if it’s from the biting cold. The kid looks different too. She didn’t memorize his face like she memorized Abby’s, but the scars on his cheeks made him easy to remember. Even recovered from the Rattlers, he’s not looking so good, pallid and shuddering.

It wasn’t a scam, from what she can see. The kid’s hurt.

“Fine. I’ll let you walk away.”

Again, she thinks Abby’s about to run. Ellie fights the urge to finish her off.

“…we’ve been wandering for hours, please, I—”

Ellie steps forward, pressing the shotgun into Abby’s throat. She wouldn’t drop the kid to grab the barrel- that much, she knows. Abby glances down and inhales, taking a hesitant step back.

“…we don’t have anywhere else to go. I…I don’t think there’s anyone else in town.”

They stand silently, eyes locked for a moment that goes on too long. Ellie knows what she’s saying. There’s no help to be found. She’s right, too. After eight months here, Ellie is yet to find someone else. Abby could wander for hours, scream her heart out, knock on every door, and the most she could hope to find would be the infected remains of someone who would have been able to help.

And god, she wants to let it happen.

“You don’t fucking deserve my help.”

“He does. Please.”

Ellie looks down.

The kid’s fading fast. He hasn’t even looked at Ellie yet- probably doesn’t even know his life is in the hands of someone who already threatened to end it. Poor kid doesn’t even look like he can hear what they’re saying.

She doesn’t know much about him. Abby cares for him, which might just be reason enough to let him die, but he’s still a kid. The scars on his face are familiar, one of the many things she can’t forget from Seattle. He’s wearing a thin hoodie, it can’t be enough to keep him warm. He doesn’t look older than fourteen.

“Fucking—” She lowers the shotgun, gritting her teeth and looking up to Abby. There’s no time to have a dilemma about this. The last thing Ellie needs right now is to be responsible for the death of a child. Another child. “Get inside. There’s a couple spare bedrooms upstairs on the left. I’ll see what I can find for medical supplies, but don’t hold your breath.”

The relief in Abby’s face is immediate, and Ellie hates it. Seeing Abby at all raises something violent and cruel in her chest, something she thought she’d never have to confront again. As though she could be so lucky.

When she steps aside, Abby’s careful not to hit the kid’s head or feet against the doorway, hesitantly looking back at Ellie before she goes up the stairs. She won’t ask out loud if Ellie’s sure about this, but Ellie nods anyway.

Abby takes off up the stairs, muttering something to the kid as she goes. Ellie doesn’t catch it as she heads for the garage, lips pressed together.

Abby

“Abby.”

It’s the only thing Lev has said to Abby for the last three hours. He’s prayed quietly to himself, held back sobs and profanities, but none of that was for her. Once he’s on the bed, he shudders and tries to curl into the blankets, finally warm after hours in the cold. It’s not snowing quite yet, but it’s close- the chill has gotten to both of them by now. Even as she shivers, Abby can’t bring herself to try and warm up, busying herself with Lev’s wound. She rolls up his cut off pant leg to get it out of the way, tentatively untying the denim from around his leg. It’s not bleeding quite as much, but it’s still bleeding, and she’s not sure how to fix that. If it hasn’t clotted by now, he may have nicked an artery. The thought has her white-knuckling the sheets.

“We’re okay for now. Just breathe for me, okay?”

He tries, which has to be enough. Even if his breathing is shaky as she tries to move him into a better position, even if his fists turn white as he grips the comforter, he’s still taking deep breaths. It’s all she can think of to keep him distracted right now.

“Fuck…”

She’ll never deny him the chance to swear his little heart out. He’s found some freedom in it, she thinks, some sense of identity. But she’s especially not going to say anything right now, as he bleeds out in this poor excuse for a hospital bed.

He’s not bleeding out. She shakes her head as the thought crosses her mind.

There’s a soft knock on the open door, the girl hesitantly stepping in with full arms. She sets things on the bed beside Lev, a few jars and a first aid kit. At the least, it looks well-supplied. The last thing she sets down is a heavy book, covered in dust aside from the few fingerprints Abby can see.

“This place belonged to a prepper, I think. It’s better than nothing.” She says with a resigned tone- they don’t have all they’ll need, and they both know it. But this should be enough for now.

“Can you dig out a needle and thread?”

The girl shakes her head, holding out a brown bottle. “Not yet. Disinfect with this.” She shakes it, liquid sloshing around inside. “It’s alcohol. Don’t just trap bacteria inside.”

Abby takes the bottle and opens it, wincing when she catches a whiff. It’s just alcohol- not the half-assed whiskey she expected. Even if that might come in handy for pain management.

She grabs Lev’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “This is probably gonna hurt. Bite down.”

He gives no sign that he hears her, just gathers more sheets into his hand and stuffs them in his mouth. It’ll have to do. Abby reaches down to take his free hand, squeezing tight as she pours the alcohol over the laceration. Lev stifles a shriek as she moves the bottle over his leg, only pouring for a second before she sets it down and takes a clean towel from the girl’s hand. She cleans around the wound, gentle as she can be wiping away blood and any remaining alcohol.

As Lev starts to breathe again, Abby looks up, eyebrows furrowed at the girl across from her. She’s pulled the kit into her lap as she digs through it, looking for a needle and thread of some kind.

“…thank you.”

“Fucking shut up.” She doesn’t look up, just keeps digging through the kit, tossing some fishing line on the bed.

“Thank you.”

The girl pauses and glances back at Lev, straining to crack his eyes open. Abby squeezes his hand again, nervous for her response- but she doesn’t say anything. Just looks back to the kit in her hand and pulls out a bottle.

“It’s Yarrow. Coagulant.”

Abby takes it when it’s offered, opening the jar and grimacing at the powder inside. “Do I just…?”

“Get it in there. Keep pressure on with one of the towels until it stops bleeding. We’ll wash it out before we sew it up.”

Abby nods, looking down at the wound, then back to Lev’s pale face.

“You’re gonna be alright.” The girl says to him, already exhausted as she pulls a packaged needle out of the kit. “I promise.”

Ellie

It’s a struggle, getting the kid sewn up. He’s in pain the whole time, as much as they try to negate it, but there’s no way to avoid it without real painkillers. Tylenol and Moonshine can only help so much.

Once he’s sewn up, bandaged, and as disinfected as he can get, Abby covers him with the few blankets they can spare. He’s so pale, it’s hard for Ellie look at, to see just how much blood he’s lost. He practically passes out once Abby tells him they’re done, shuddering under the blankets.

Ellie stands by the doorway, watching as Abby fusses over the kid. They’re not related, it seems- but she’s in no position to judge people trying to make their own family. It doesn’t really matter, nor does she care- they won’t be here for long.

Once Abby stands and looks Ellie in the eye, she jerks her head out towards the hallway. Once they’re outside, the door closed to give the kid some rest, Ellie crosses her arms.

“…I know I’m the last person—” Abby starts, but Ellie stops her with a hand up. She’s quiet for a moment, eyes closed.

“You can stay until he’s on his feet again. You pull your weight and stay out of my way. I’ll help with whatever he needs, but you don’t bother me.” She takes a step closer to Abby, jaw set. “Give me any excuse to put you down and I’m taking it.”

Abby presses her lips together and nods. Ellie expected some kind of pushback, but it makes sense that Abby wouldn’t risk it right now.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“For now, just…stay by him. I’ll get you when I need help.”

“Fine.”

Abby watches her, meets Ellie’s steely gaze, and nods. Her hand rests on the doorknob, waiting for a dismissal of some kind.

“Don’t make me regret letting you stay.” Even though she already regrets it, it’s a sentiment worth putting out there. Abby nods, turning back into the kid’s room and shutting the door behind her.

I hope you all enjoy the direction I plan to take this in- thank you so much for reading! (The Sierra Nevada mountains are so beautiful btw, I don't think I've seen more impressive mountains and I just spent a week driving the Al-Can.)

Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

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punkassfrance · 9 days

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Sierra Nevada - Chapter I - Ellie/Abby

Chapter I: Donner (Work Length ~1.4k) This work is rated M for canon-typical violence and gore. Please look here for a full list of warnings for the series, specific warnings will be provided at the start of each chapter. This work contains passing mention of cannibalism and discussion of a massacre. (Aftermath- corpses, smell, etc.) Full Series - Next Chapter

“Even though I told people to call me Linda, that was another girl’s name. I had to change my name several times because of what I had done, or rather, what had been done to me.” - Aimee Parkison, “The Innocent Party”

Abby

It was hard to say exactly what happened to the Fireflies. They didn’t have much to go on, once Abby and Lev finally made it to Catalina island. There were no notes, no maps, no audio logs explaining everything they needed to know. From what did remain, Abby could only say one thing for sure- it was a fucking bloodbath.

The bodies weren’t fresh. They weren’t old, either. Sometime between 2425 Constance and the moment they made it to the island, the Fireflies were wiped out. It had been a few weeks, maybe a month since the bodies hit the ground where they laid. There was no getting away from the smell; nowhere on the island was safe from the harsh reminder of whatever had happened.

Some of them looked like they went down fighting, gunpowder residue still on their fingers. Some were executed. There were missing boats along the docks- some must have made it out alive, she thought with the last bit of hope she had left. It didn’t last long.

Lev looked up from the shambles of the Fireflies, looking to Abby for hope, a plan, anything she could offer. They’d spent almost two years looking for the Fireflies, they’d been so close. It was all Abby had wanted.

But they still had fresh rope burn. They both still hungered from the pillars, and she had injuries to take care of from the cure. She still tasted blood, and tried not to focus too hard on what was stuck in her teeth.

“…come on, Lev.”

That was almost a year ago, now. Maybe if they weren’t both exhausted, starving and beaten like dogs, they would have kept looking. They wouldn’t have given up on the Fireflies.

But Santa Barbara changed things. After all they’d seen, all that had happened, some part of Abby decided it was just over. All Lev wanted was to be with Abby, and all Abby wanted to do was get the fuck out of this city.

The sailboat made it as far as San Francisco before it couldn’t keep going. Abby had tried to fix it for about a week before Lev confessed he wanted to explore inland- see what the world was like outside the coast.

“Abby?” She looks up from her journal as Lev calls her from a few yards away, pointing to a road sign he’s spent the last ten minutes uncovering. “How do you say this? Trucke?”

Abby stands and walks over to him, squinting at the sign. “It’s Truck-ee. Just how it looks. Means we’re getting close to Nevada.”

There’s been…some interruptions on their trip, to say the least. Some things Abby can’t bring herself to remember, let alone talk about- but they’re past that. Abby’s hair is slowly growing out, past her shoulders now, just enough to braid. Her hair hasn’t been this short since she was a teenager. Lev’s kept his hair short, but not fully shaved- he gets nightmares when it gets too long. But then, he gets nightmares most nights.

“What’s Nevada like?”

“What is it, October? Should be nice. We should leave before spring, though. It’s a lot of desert. We’ll go around Reno if we can help it.”

“Have you been there?” Lev lets the foliage fall back over the road sign, hands resting on the straps of his backpack.

“Nope. We’re both gonna see something new.”

They’re just outside of Donner, Abby pausing their lesson on the history of the area to take a short rest. He’s fascinated by what he’s heard, even the morbid details she barely remembers. “Book on Donner Party/murder?” is written down in her shopping list, one of the dozens of things she needs to find at some point. He’d like that, she’s certain.

“We should get moving. Should just be another day or so to Nevada.”

Lev nods and starts off down the road as Abby puts her journal away, half-jogging to keep up with him. “Hang on, Lev-”

“Gotta get a move on!”

She huffs quietly and runs until she catches up to him, glancing around the woods. He knows she’s been trying to get back in shape. It’s been tricky, after everything that happened in Santa Barbara, but not as hard as she feared it would be. Muscle comes back easier once it’s been gained the first time around, even if the limited calories complicate things. Whatever anyone had to say about the Washington Liberation Front, they kept their people fed. One of the few things she misses from Seattle.

“I’m coming.”

Ellie

“No. I’m not gonna do this again. If you walk out, I’m not going to be here if you come back.”

“That’s up to you.”

There was no real point in going back. There was nothing left for Ellie, after all. The possessions she’d turned into a life meant nothing anymore- Tommy probably took most of them when Dina left. If she ever decides she wants any of it back, if she ever returns to Jackson to beg for Dina’s forgiveness, she hopes Tommy at least has the decency to feel ashamed.

Not that he matters, anymore. Not that anyone in Wyoming matters. Not that anyone matters.

When she journals about it, she wants to say she hasn’t been this disconnected since she was…younger, but she can’t settle on an age. First it was Riley. Then Marlene. Then Joel. Then Dina. As much as loneliness has haunted her entire life, the more she thinks about it, it was never so tangible. There was always something there, someone keeping her tethered to humanity.

But Santa Barbara changed things. After Abby disappeared into the fog, after she stood from the water on the last shreds of energy she had and watched the horizon, it was too late. When the stars started to appear on the water, it hit her that there was nothing for her anywhere. Jackson might welcome her, but it would never be home again.

So, east. There was no real plan to it, nothing beyond get out of Santa Barbara, so that’s what she did. Wandered until she found somewhere suitable to settle down. She’s not sure what the name of the town is, just that it’s quiet. Joel would have liked it, she thinks- he loved the mountains. They never managed to get this far west together.

It looked like an old vacation town, somewhere rich people would visit when the season was right. It’s been nearly a year since she settled here, and if there’s anything she’s learned, it’s that nobody in their right mind would be here in the winter just to visit. The snow should be coming in any day now- she’ll have to prepare for it soon.

At least there’s a nice view from the back porch of the cabin she settled on. Her cabin, now. The previous owner was quickly dispatched, his spores fully aired out within a week. Now it’s just her place. She drinks the tea in her hand, thumb rubbing over the design on the mug. It’s not the same owl mug Joel had, but it’s close enough to remind her. Remind her she cared about someone for a little while.

Her place is so quiet. There’s no voices, no humming from the kitchen, no kids giggling and playing outside. It’s nothing like Jackson. If she doesn’t speak, nothing needs to be said. It’s nice. A bird sings nearby— it’s one of Ellie’s favorite sounds. Joel told her it was called a Mourning Dove.

Pushing herself back from the balcony railing, she gives the woods one last look before she turns back to the house. There’s a laundry list of things to do- prepare firewood, move the few plants that can be moved indoors, clear out the gutters— small things to handle before the snow really sets in. The greenhouse still needs fixing up, just another thing for her to get to once summer returns.

As endless as it feels, the list she’s built up is only a few years long. Ellie’s not sure what she’s going to do once she hits the end of it.

But for now, as she sets her mug next to the sink and reaches for her jacket. She’s fresh out of distractions for the morning.

I'm so excited to start this series- hopefully you enjoyed chapter one, more on the way soon! Again, heed the warnings for each chapter, please be safe! Huge thanks to @jennaispunk for looking this over for me, the help is very much appreciated!!

Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

#the last of us #fanfiction #ellabs #ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie williams/abby anderson #ellie williams #ellie tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #ellie williams x abby anderson #series #sierra nevada #my writing

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