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earthtooz · 4 months

Note

how would you write wriothesley needing reassurance?

x : TO LOVE A GOOD THING :*+ﾟ

in which: wriothesley thinks he loves you more than you love him.

warnings: 1.4k words, reverse hurt/comfort with angst, wrio being insecure sorry, gn!hot-headed!reader, reader gets into a fight, wrio patches you up.

a/n: thank u @sixosix for helping me out during my my hard times. this fic was already half written before I got this ask but then it was like the stars aligned and anon came to save a fic that might have never made it out of the drafts. anyways, idk if the writing is good, but i came, i saw, i conquered. enjoy!

Wriothesley thinks he loves you more than you love him.

If he voiced these thoughts to you, you’d shut him down without another breath. He can almost picture it now, the way your nose would scrunch as a precursor to all the statements you will make rejecting his. He can hear all the things you’d say, insisting ‘that’s just not true!’, and then he’ll laugh to cover up the way his chest will swell with pure adoration.

But it is true.

Loving you is easier than breathing. The heart that sits in his chest beats harder for you than the circulation of oxygen in his lungs, but he breathes because it keeps him alive. If he’s alive, then he gets to see you, the best thing that’s happened to him his entire, unfortunate life.

He thinks he loves you more than you love him because you once told him your favourite flowers were glaze lilies. However, when you complained that they only bloomed during the night, Wriothesley knew that he would wrestle the sun just so the moon could shine a little longer.

He thinks he loves you more than you love him because you linger in the crevices of his mind. Down in the Fortress of Meropide, the days may pass excruciatingly slow sometimes and the only cure for him is yearning for the one he loves most. Perhaps if he wishes hard enough, you’ll burst through those doors with a declaration of a new discovery and sit on his desk, avoiding the paperwork.

Most times, his wishful thinking doesn’t work out. On the rare occasion it does, Wriothesley will be fortunate enough to end the work day with your palms on his cheeks, gently motivating him to finish what’s left.

You’ll peel stickers off his body, ignorant of the fact that he saves them up just for an excuse to feel your hands on him, then he’ll kiss you in thanks, eyes fluttering closed. Near you, he can finally let his guard down, let the gauntlets and coat fall as he sinks into you.

Wriothesley already feels bad whenever you come down to a place so unforgiving and confronting. He tries to brighten up the place sometimes, but metal can only shine so much before it rusts again.

Is it pathetic to want to better yourself for another person? Or is it love?

Wriothesley thinks he loves you more than you love him, and he’s perfectly fine to continue living with that fact. As long as he’s the one you return to every night, he’ll be fine to live with whatever burdens you press onto him.

He just didn’t expect that one of said ‘burdens’ would result with you, Sigewinne’s infirmary, and your face littered with cuts and bruises.

“You should have seen the other guy,” is your poor attempt at humour as your lover frets everywhere, pacing back and forth as the small nurse tends to you. His heavy boots resounding against metal floors.

“Seriously, Y/n, what were you thinking?” The warden clearly isn’t amused by your joke, the only thing keeping him back from completely lecturing you is Sigewinne and that stun gun of hers.

A small yelp slips past your lips when she applies some balm on your sore knuckles and Wriothesley winces, as if feeling your pain. “They were talking bad about you, Wriothesley, what did you want me to do?”

“Nothing!”

Sigewinne gives him a look. He immediately shuts his mouth. “I can’t do that,” you insist.

“You can, and you should’ve. I can defend my own honour. Besides, you didn’t need to lower yourself to the level of crooks just to prove a point.”

“But-”

“-The guys you beat up were just admitted here. Normally after receiving a life’s sentence, the first name that’s slandered is mine as an outlet for anger. This is normal, Y/n, they’ll continue on to realise that the Fortress of Meropide is not their standard prison and reform. You, however, might have just set back their progress.”

Your head drops, a little in shame, but mostly because you don’t have anything to say in retaliation. Silence envelops the dim space, none of you brave enough to break the tension that came from Wriothesley’s scolding. With a few final words from Sigewinne about what medicine to apply, when, and what not to do, she leaves the room quite hurriedly, as if eager to let you and Wriothesley talk about it alone.

Immediately, he crosses the room to where you sit, closing in on your personal space.

“The things they were saying about you were unforgivable. Meropide’s great duke may forgive, but I won’t.”

“Nothing is as unforgivable as you getting hurt.” Care laces his voice this time when he talks to you.

“You won’t throw me in prison for this, right?” You ask with a bashful smile, one that sends him reeling.

“Not prison, no,” he coughs. “However, I can’t not reprimand you.”

“Fine. I guess this just means that I love you more.”

He knows you’re kidding, that you’re only trying to make him feel better because the grin on your face is nothing short of mischievous. Part of him falters, cracks like an earthquake splitting the land apart and pulling him under. To stabilise himself, his rough palms find purchase on both sides of your jaw and his forehead is pressed flushed to yours.

(You don’t love him more, how can you love someone as ragged as him?)

“Impossible,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Really, let these bruises be a reminder,” you chuckle. His thumb ghosts over a bruise on your cheek and his heart aches at the way you wince, even if just slightly. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be here, sat on a hospital bed with wounds he inadvertently caused.

You wouldn’t be here, in a dingy, dreary Fortress that you’re only obligated to visit because of him.

(Oh, but he hopes you never leave. The day you go and never come back is the day Wriothesley will turn all of Teyvat upside down just to search for you. Where is his place if not by your side?)

There’s a warm poke to his cheek that’s quickly followed by a damp residual. Wriothesley quickly realises that you wiped a tear away, and he curses the following few that spill. You shouldn’t waste your efforts on him: a man half-coherent, and wholly undeserving of you.

“Love, oh, love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the bruised area. “Why did you do this?”

“I already told you,” you hum. “Because I love you.”

“I’m not worth it.”

Your hand stills. “What do you mean by that?”

“This happened because of me,” there’s pain in Wriothesley’s voice when it cracks. “You didn’t need to harm yourself for me, I’m more of a burden than you think, Y/n, nothing good will come out of loving me too much.”

For a second, everything stills. The beating of his heart, your breathing, the dull humming of the fortress’ mechanics, it all becomes silenced. The world only kicks up again when you speak.

“How could you say that about yourself?” You reprimand, shaking his face lightly. “A ‘burden’? Are you hearing yourself right now, Wriothesley? You’re not making any sense right now!”

There’s a passionate look in your eyes. One he doesn’t think a man like him deserves.

“I do not love you for ‘good things’ to come out of them, I love you because you are the good thing, and I will do anything for you to remain the way you are.”

Oh, he might cry again. Are there tears in the corners of his eyes? How can he help it when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him?

“Don’t write me off as some poor soul whose subjected to your love,” you whisper, but he hangs on to every word you say. “Your love is not a burden I bear, but rather, the most fortunate thing I’ve ever had the luxury of cherishing.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Wriothesley presses his lips to yours in an all-consuming kiss. He drinks up all of your praise and lets it settle in his gut to bloom, untethering himself from the chains that rubbed his wrists raw. You love him, you love him more than he thought possible.

How lucky he is that you pull him closer, selfishly taking all of him.

#earthtooz: genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley fic #wriothesley x you

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the-californicationist · 5 months

Text

he lets you watch

When you overhear Captain Price watching porn in his office, you decide to turn his fantasies into a reality.

Link to AO3

MDNI/18+

TW: femdom, gagging, one slap

You were working late. Again. It was the most frustrating part of any operation: recon review. All the footage collected from all the soldiers’ body cams had to be reviewed and documented. Any dialogue? Syntactically tagged. Any shots fired? Counted. Any kills? Confirmed. You were glad to help the team, but this stage of discovery was dreadfully boring.

Even worse, your new-found crush on your captain was driving you insane. To be honest, you’d had your eye on him for a while. There was something about a man in charge, but it was when this last set of footage came through that you really went off the deep end.

Price had gone with Gaz into a warehouse that was suspected of housing enemy munitions, and the captain had uncovered crates and crates of target-marking spray paint. Huge canisters that attached to the bottoms of planes were all stuck in little rows, lined up and ready to use.

Unfortunately for the captain, one of the canisters was propped open on the top of its box, and when he lifted the lid, he got covered in red dye. You watched it explode, covering the camera, and then when it reconnected, there he was. Shirtless. Down to his boxer briefs. Wiping red dye off of himself with his clothes. Gaz had brought a full kit, so Price was changing out, hoping to stay covert and camouflaged in the clean gear. Couldn’t well be a glowing red dot while trying to escape enemy territory.

His chest was broad and full of dense, dark hair, laying flat like soft fur, untrimmed and natural. His beard was streaked red, and half his face was painted, making him look like an ancient Celt, ready for brutal highland battles and bedding willing lassies. He was frustrated by his accident, so all of his movements were sharp and aggressive, his muscles raging and wrestling against his skin. Then, he moved closer to the camera, and the bulge in his underwear became glaringly apparent.

Hung. Thick. Not so long that it was out of place, but heavy. His cock was imposing, and when he readjusted himself, you could see how dense the muscle really was. You couldn’t help but pause the film, staring, in glorious 4k. You nearly had to wipe the drool from your mouth.

Price looked so confident here. He was always self-assured, but sometimes, when you spoke with him, there was something that he was holding back. Some shyness perhaps, maybe just a reserved nature, but not here. Not in his livid rage, he was like a wounded beast - angry and virile. Full of righteous energy. It made you imagine making him come undone in other ways, in the ways a woman was meant to make a beast like that come apart at the seams. Ripping the constricting threads and freeing the hulking creature looming within.

Now, he was sitting in his office, right next to yours, and he’d started watching footage of his own. Or, at least, you thought that he was watching the cams…until you heard a woman’s salacious moan penetrate the thin wall between you.

Your eyes grew wide, and your breath caught in your chest. You sat in the silence of your office, hearing your heart pound in your ears. You waited to hear it again, just to be sure.

Then, a very quiet,

“You wanna come?”

You let out the breath you’d been holding. It wooshed from you like a wave crashing against miles and miles of sand.

Something snapped, some darkness possessed you. You found yourself standing, walking toward the door to his office. It was so late, everyone else had turned in. Just you and him in the west hall of the base awake. He never slept, it seemed. A night owl like you.

You opened his door without knocking. You’d never done that before, and objectively, it was a truly insane choice.

In your mind, his hand had lingered when he took his cup of coffee from your hands. In your imagination, he’d cocked a sly smile when you made a joke, just between you and him. You thought you’d seen him checking out your ass in the gym. But, you didn’t have any real proof.

Popping open his door was the equivalent of pulling the trigger on a bazooka.

He stood, caught like a fox in a snare, his chair clattering as you came into the room and shut the door behind you quickly.

“Sergeant, uh,” he recovered, “What happened?”

“Captain.”

It was a full sentence. And, it was all you had. You were finished.

The video was still playing. The lurid slapping of skin on skin. Her over-acted moans, his ritual panting. Every few seconds, you counted three, there was another soft,

“You like that, daddy?”

You smiled. He turned red, just like he’d been painted again.

“Sergeant, I was just…”

He paused the movie. Then, with his body, with the hand roughly rubbing down his face, with the palm tightly covering his mouth, he said a million other words. He was still pink with shame, and then he laughed,

“Yeah, no. I was ‘bout to have a wank. Not sure why I was trying to make you believe otherwise, love. Sorry. It’s too loud?”

You smiled wider. His genuine honesty was so smooth and effortless. A thief caught with his hands in the cookie jar, begging you to punish him for it.

“No,” you shook your head, “Just wanted to see what you were watching.”

He didn’t register what you said at first, still staring down at his boots. Then, realization washed over him and he looked up at you, eyes shining, brows arched.

“Oh? That so?”

You nodded,

“Let me see what’s got you up so late.”

The captain rubbed a big, calloused hand across his mouth, smoothing his beard, a bit nervous. Then, he pulled a chair around and motioned for you to sit beside him. You sat. He sat. He hit play.

A woman was straddling a man, both of them hairless and slick like brand new Barbie dolls, spray-tan orange and bleach-blond hair. Americans. She was riding his larger than average dick slowly, deliberately slow, edging him with her pussy. She had a hand around his throat, grasping his jaw tightly, pushing his head back. He was tied to the chair, straining against it, clearly desperate as he writhed beneath her, fighting his restraints.

“Please, baby. Please, let me come?” He begged.

“You wanna come, daddy?” She teased.

“Yeah, can I come?” He begged.

“Ah-ah! I don’t think so…” She teased.

Begging. Teasing. Begging. Teasing. A vicious, uncontrollable cycle of cruelty on her part, always pulling the proverbial carrot farther and farther from his snapping jaws.

You turned to Price who was watching, rapt. He noticed you staring at him. Before he turned to face you, he smiled, sighing,

“Sometimes, when you’re the one barking orders all day, it’d be nice to turn your head off and follow someone else’s for a change.”

“You could follow my orders,” some psychotic part of you spoke.

He gripped the side of the chair, his once-relaxed hands now making the cheap aluminum frame creak and pop.

“What’d you say, Sergeant?”

“You heard me, Captain,” you didn’t know if you should call an exorcist or what. Who was this version of yourself and how quickly was she going to get you court martialed?

“You think you can order me around?”

You leaned in, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath, Cuban cigars leaving earthy notes of vanilla and licorice behind. You whispered,

“I know I can.”

He breathed out, his exhale caressing your lips, threatening to kiss you.

You didn’t move. Not a muscle. You locked eyes with him,

“Sit on your hands, Captain.”

“Sergeant,” he tried to kiss you, but you pulled away quickly.

Part of your body screamed at you, wondering why you’d avoid his advances, but your mind knew what he wanted. He needed to lose control. For a man like Price to lose it, it must be taken from him. Forcibly.

“I said sit... on... them,” you sneered, making yourself larger by standing over him, placing your hands on his thighs to press into his skin.

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed, patronizing and light-hearted. It made you want to break him of that habit. Of thinking you were just his sergeant. Just the girl who brought him coffee. Just his gym buddy.

He still hadn’t complied, chuckling to himself. Out of no where, you straight up fucking slapped him. Hard. Right across the jaw. Grabbing him by the collar,

“Sit on your fucking hands, soldier. That’s an order,” you barked.

He sat on his hands, staring at you like you had doused yourself in gasoline and caught yourself on fire, in awe.

You pushed his chair back until you had room to move in front of him, and you began peeling off your clothes, one by one. Your shirt, your cargos, your bra, your panties; they all ended up on the floor, leaving you naked and touching yourself lazily, letting your hands wander.

He moved to lift his hands off his seat, wanting to touch, so you backed away from him. It was a warning: move and this ends. Follow my orders, and I’ll stay. He settled back down.

“You know, I should punish you for slapping me, Sergeant. That’s insubordination,” he chided, trying to regain control of the situation.

You took your panties off the ground and found the wet stain he’d caused, showing it to him coyly, like you’d picked up a pretty shell from the beach. It gleamed in the light of his desk lamp. Then, you walked over to him, swaying your hips, and bent down as if to kiss him.

As he opened his mouth to kiss you back, you pushed your panties into it, past his teeth, clutching at his jaw with the other hand as roughly as you could, knowing you couldn’t hurt him. You shushed his surprised noises, putting a finger to his lip,

“Shh, Captain. That’s enough. You’re not in charge anymore, are you?”

He furrowed his brow as if he would fight back, as if he would remove his hands and teach you a lesson. Then, as he tasted you on his tongue, he realized that you were offering prizes for obedience. He would reap the rewards, if he was willing to play along. His face softened, and he shook his head no.

“Good boy,” you whispered.

You kissed his mouth, awkwardly, since it was full of your wet panties, there was little he could do except experience your kisses. He reacted as if he wanted to kiss you back, and as you moved to kiss his jawline, he moaned.

Price’s moans were rumbling and deep, long and low like a bull elephant’s roar. You wanted to drag that noise out of him again. Your hand found his belt buckle, and you rugged at it, willing it to loosen. As you kissed his neck, you drug down his zipper and freed his cock from the fabric.

The captain was not soft. If anything, he was harder than he should’ve been for a little teasing and some neck kisses. You decided to use that to his disadvantage,

“My, my, my. Someone’s eager…”

You tugged up and down with length in a long, languid massage, feeling how his foreskin slipped over the head and down the shaft, smooth and supple. He was hairy around the root of his cock, just as you’d hoped, and after seeing the video of him covered in paint, you wished you could strip him down and run your fingernails through his chest hair, delicately scratching his skin and peaked nipples.

For now, you spit on his cockhead, using it as lube as you rubbed him. He threw his head back in ecstasy. You removed your hand. He snapped back to attention, staring at you a bit desperate for relief.

You giggled,

“Is this for me, or for her?”

Pointing over your shoulder, you motioned to the paused video. You took your hand away, feigning hurt feelings.

His body arched toward you, missing your touch, and he shook his head, trying to say something.

“For her? How disappointing,” you pouted, playing with the head of his cock with one finger, drawing circles around the edge.

Price was saying something muffled through the fabric of your panties, shaking his head, scooting his chair closer with a quick thrust of his hips, making his cock flag from the jolting movement.

“You know,” you whispered, drawing him in with your quiet tone, “if this was for me, I’d really be looking forward to feeling it inside of me.”

“Mmm. Mm, mm!” He tried to correct you, his shoulders straining as he pulled them forward, struggling against his self-imposed restraint.

“Oh?” You caressed his face, rubbing your hand through his soft beard, feeling the stubble on his chin, “It is for me after all?”

“Mm hm,” he nodded, leaning his cheek into your palm, eyes hooded with relief.

You could tell he was enjoying the game. You were enjoying it, too. You could feel how wet you were, watching him gaze at your shining folds hungry. Impatient.

“In that case…” you straddled him, planting your knees on either side of his hips, trapping his cock between you both. His body felt warm, and his breathing was labored.

You rubbed your wetness up and down his shaft, spreading yourself along his length, making wet little sounds as you smeared him until he was slippery.

Carefully, you moved his head into your eager pussy, your walls pounding for him like a heartbeat. Then, you held his throat with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

“You don’t get to come until I tell you to. Do you understand, soldier?”

“Mm, hm,” he nodded, rolling in the ecstasy of your tight cunt.

“Good, boy.”

#captain john price #captain price #john price #call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod

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shares-a-vest · 5 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 17: Accidental Kink Discovery (Smutty Sunday)

Rated: T for suggestive language/flirtatious banter (y'know me, more silly than spice!)

“I hate it!” Eddie spits through gritted teeth.

He shakes his fists to the heavens, which jingle-jangles the bells on the green hat, collar and shirt hem of his costume.

Steve chuckles from his vantage point on the edge of the bed, impossibly charmed by what is a faint tinkling to his own ears as Eddie grumbles at his reflection in the full-length mirror.

He rakes his eyes down the back of his boyfriend’s seething and tense frame. He stops at Eddie’s legs, looking positively gangly in a pair of green tights. Long, too, as they disappear up under a tiny pair of green shorts with a red felt trim and –

Oh, no.

Steve gulps.

“What?” Eddie snaps, whipping around.

He scrunches his nose like he could hiss.

“Nothing!” Steve splutters, folding his arms tight and shrugging as he tries not to think about Eddie in a complementary pair of festive underpants –

Oh, no.

He puffs out a breath, looking anywhere but at Eddie and his scowl.

“I should have never let Joyce talk me into applying for a job at Melvad’s,” Eddie rambles, half-muttering his words, “Why couldn’t you have charmed Keith into giving me some shifts at Family Video? At least I wouldn’t have to dress as a goddamn elf.”

Jingle-jangle.

Steve looks up just as Eddie stomps his foot.

His shoes jingle-jangle too.

“Gah! Fuck!” Eddie curses and freezes on the spot, arms tight by his sides.

“I can’t help it if my work vest is already green,” Steve teases, shrugging innocently, “Besides, Keith currently has you banned for ‘distracting staff’.”

His air quotations only make Eddie bristle. He lifts his right hand, likely to worry with a lock of his hair. But his fingers snag his jester-like collar.

Jingle-jangle.

Eddie splutters away with what Steve can only assume is a series of incoherent expletives as he begins to hop on the spot to wrestle one shoe off and hurl it across the room.

At least that’s what Steve assumes Eddie’s full-body throw is intended to do. But the lightweight shoe only makes it about a foot before it softly falls to the ground.

Eddie shrieks and then dips his head to dry sob into his hands.

“I look so stupid,” he laments, “I don’t want to be an elf.”

He looks up all doe-eyed and Steve can’t help but think how nice his hair looks under the elf hat, his locks sitting in place to perfectly frame his face. Even if Eddie doesn’t want to be an elf, he looks cute as hell as one.

Fuck it. What happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom, right?

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, lowering from the bed to the floor, “It’s only for a few days, right?”

“What the hell are you doing!” Eddie recoils, glistening eyes going wide as saucers as Steve begins to crawl on his knees towards him.

Jingle-jangle.

He stops in front of his boyfriend and takes his hand, planting it on his shoulder before he dips down for the remaining shoe.

“Helping you take this off...” he explains, voice light as he wraps his hand delicately around Eddie’s ankle.

“Okay…” Eddie hums, raising a sceptical brow even if he shifts his weight onto Steve’s shoulder to steady himself.

Steve bites his bottom lip, trying not to so much as chuckle as every movement Eddie makes sounds off a series of tinny bell sounds. He removes the green felt shoe and tosses it over his shoulder, still holding Eddie’s ankle before carefully lowering it back to the ground.

He looks up, a smile turning to a smirk as Eddie gulps, his eyes flitting down to where Steve still has his hand wrapped around his ankle, soothing it now from the embarrassment and green.

“Stevie…” Eddie frowns.

Steve runs his hand up his green stockinged leg slowly, pausing only when his fingertips skirt the bottom hem of his tantalising green shorts.

“Oh my god!” Eddie exclaims, clawing at his shoulder, “You like this costume, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles, running his free hand through his hair.

“Not possible,” Eddie insists, shaking his head and chopping a hand through the air before placing it right back on his shoulder.

Jingle-jangle.

“I do,” Steve insists, flicking a bell on the hem of his shirt now.

“Don’t jingle it,” Eddie spits, jaw clenched.

“What if I jingle you…” he begins, tilting his head to the side as he looks him over, “All the way…”

“Gross!” Eddie shrieks, “That is the worst line you have ever…”

He trails off, a visible blush creeping up his neck as Steve allows his hand to breach the hem of those shorts.

“But,” Steve bites, pressing his fingers into Eddie’s skin, “You have to be a good elf, okay?”

He watches as a myriad of emotions run through Eddie’s eyes before he lands on a similar ‘fuck it’ attitude and goes along with it.

“Sure thing, Santa,” Eddie soon coos, dimples dotting his cheeks as he offers a cherubic smile and a two-finger salute.

Jingle-jangle.

“You have been the naughtiest elf in my workshop,” Steve teases, popping the ‘p’ as he reaches around to grab at Eddie’s ass.

Eddie lurches forward, Steve’s face now flush with his scratchy polyester shirt front.

Jingle-jangle.

#they are just silly idiots in love who will speed-run the most random kink discovery lmao #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddiemas #steve x eddie #steddiemasnaughtylist #👕🧥

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️

——————

Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.

One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.

Ellie and Y/n.

Stay awake.

Men coming.

Leading them away.

Kill them.

The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.

Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.

They crept through the room.

He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.

Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he’d watched it happen.

After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.

Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.

—————————

Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.

She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.

David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.

“How is she?”

Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.

David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”

Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”

“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”

“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.

The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”

Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.

He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”

“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”

David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.

Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.

“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.

Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”

“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”

“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.

“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”

Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.

He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.

“But I stopped them.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.

“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.

Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”

“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”

As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.

“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.

“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.

David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”

Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.

“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”

David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.

“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”

Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.

Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.

“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.

“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“

Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.

Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.

Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.

It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.

Mom.

Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.

And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”

David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.

Joel wasn’t coming to save them.

They were on their own.

And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.

————————————

Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.

But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.

Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.

“Stop…stop, please…”

Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.

“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.

“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.

“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”

Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.

“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.

“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.

The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”

When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.

“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”

“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.

“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.

Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.

“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”

Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”

Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.

Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.

“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”

There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.

Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.

Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.

“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.

Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.

“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”

In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t the villain.

He was a father and a husband.

And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.

—————————

Ellie was relentless.

“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.

“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”

“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.

Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”

“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.

Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”

She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…

An ear.

An actual fucking ear.

In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.

David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”

Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.

“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.

“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”

Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.

“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.

“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.

“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”

“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.

“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.

“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.

“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”

Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.

“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”

Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.

“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.

“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”

Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.

“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”

“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.

But this wasn’t her opportunity.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.

“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.

“What about our friend?”

“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”

“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”

It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.

“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”

David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.

“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.

“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”

David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…

“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.

Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.

Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.

“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.

“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.

David turned, “What?”

“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”

“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”

He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”

“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“

“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.

“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.

She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”

———————————

The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.

He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.

Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.

Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.

All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.

Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.

Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…

His stomach turned.

He had to fucking hurry.

—————————

David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.

“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.

David and James wrenched the two of them apart.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”

“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”

If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.

“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.

“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.

Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.

“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.

“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.

“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.

David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”

“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.

In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.

This was how it ended.

“I’M INFECTED!”

Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.

“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”

David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.

“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”

Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.

“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.

James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”

“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.

Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.

This was their opportunity.

Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.

Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.

Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.

The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.

“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”

“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”

As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.

“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”

While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.

“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”

Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.

She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.

It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.

————————

Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.

In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.

Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose them.

—————————

“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.

“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”

Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.

“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”

Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.

“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”

In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.

Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.

David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.

Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.

With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.

Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.

The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.

Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.

With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.

David’s back was blissfully turned.

Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.

The flames were consuming the restaurant.

Y/n inched her way closer.

David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.

Ellie screamed louder.

Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.

Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.

The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.

When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.

Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.

The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.

They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.

“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.

“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.

Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.

“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.

Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.

“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”

Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.

Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.

“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.

Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.

“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”

Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.

After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.

“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.

Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.

Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.

But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.

—————————

That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.

Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.

All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.

Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.

As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.

Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.

Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.

——————

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