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alloftheimagines · 1 year

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joel miller | left behind

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.9k

warnings: angst, angst, angst. so much angst. ep two spoilers. tess's death. grief. loss. infected stuff. reader is tess's younger sister. age gap. more angst. so much angst. slightly violent reader.

synopsis: in which joel honours a promise he made to tess that means he must force reader to leave your infected sister behind in boston. resentment and a bit of hurt/comfort ensues as you head to frank and bill's.

sibling!tess x reader, reader x joel, little bit of reader x ellie

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld

“Holy shit. She’s infected.”

You didn’t think the world could fall apart twice, but you look at Tess as Ellie's words settle in and realise you were wrong. Here you are again, losing everything. This time, you don’t know if you can survive.

“Tess…” you whisper, shaking your head slowly. “No. No. No.”

Beside you, Joel is deadly still. He looks at your sister with such detachment that you want to scream. This is Tess. Fucking Tess.

But you know him. You know he’s good at switching off when things get tough. Not like you. You wear your heart on your damn sleeve, and you can’t fucking do this. You look at her again, heart breaking. You feel every tear, every shard slipping through your ribcage. Tess is motionless — resigned. She wears sadness, but no fear. None anybody but you can see, anyway. You grew up with her. You can see the fading light in her eyes in a way the others won’t.

And you don’t know what to do.

“Let me see it,” Joel orders quietly.

“Joel…” Tess pleads.

“Show me,” he growls.

Bitterly, she tears down the collar of her shirt, revealing the infection blossoming across bruised veins. Your knees threaten to buckle, nausea rising in your throat.

“No.” Tears slip down your cheeks, and you’re already searching the room again for some hint the Fireflies might have left, some sign that it won’t end like this. “No. The girl is a cure. If we can just—”

Tess is saying your name. You’re not listening. If you listen, it will be real. If you listen, you will have to say goodbye to the only family you have left.

“Joel,” she’s saying now. “This kid… this kid is real, okay? You gotta get her, get them both, to Tommy’s. He’ll know where to go, what to do.”

“No. No, I’m not doing that,” he replies.

You’re still rattling around, searching old papers and nooks for something, anything; as though you’ll find a miracle in the shadows.

“If not for the kid then for her.” Tess’s voice rises. You squeeze your eyes shut, your back turned to her. “She needs you, Joel. This is the end of the road for me, but you need to keep going. Promise me."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you shout, throwing the first thing you find against the wall. It smashes to dust. “We’ll find a way out of this, Tess. We always fucking do. Let’s just stop and figure it out!”

“There is no figuring it out.” Tess marches over to you, gripping your face in her hands. You try so hard to fight it, so hard to stay in denial, but you look at her drawn face and know she’s already half-gone. You know the worry furrowing her brows isn’t for herself, but for you. For what will happen to you now. She practically raised you, toughening you up or else cradling you through the bad nights, never any in between. It made you both strong and so unbearably weak. Not like Joel, who has never let anything touch him.

You choke on a sob and close your eyes. “Please, Tess. Please. This can’t be it. I need you.”

“I need you. I need you to be safe. I need you to keep going. Please, sweetheart.” She softens, brushing the tears from your eyes. “Please. For me.”

“No—”

The sound of moans and the shuffling of uneven footsteps interrupt your protest. Joel goes to the window and curses, readying his gun. “Infected. Shit tonne of ‘em. We gotta go.”

You grab Tess’s wrist without thinking. “Come on.”

But she slips out of your grasp, stepping away from all of you. Ellie has tears in her eyes, but she says nothing, looking for the first time not to Tess or Joel, but to you.

“I can buy you some time, but you have to run. You have to go,” Tess whispers.

You shake your head again, ferociously this time. “No. No, I’m not leaving. If you stay, I stay.”

She snaps her head away. “Joel. Get her out of here.”

You fight back a bitter scoff, fists curling at your sides — but then hands lock around your arms, nudging you away. “Come on," Joel grunts. "We have to go. Now.”

The betrayal stings. This is fucking Tess. Of all people, he should want to help her. He shouldn’t be giving up on her.

You snarl, “Fuck you if you think I’m going anywhere!”

He doesn’t let up, face carved from stone. “We can’t stay,” he hisses, ducking his head to meet your eye. “You want us all to die?”

“You go! I’m not—”

“Now, Joel!” Tess is yelling. “Get her the fuck out of here now!”

He swears under his breath again and then his arms are like a vice around your waist, your feet lifting from the floor as he drags you away, kicking and screaming.

“No!” You’re shrieking now, vocal cords ripping apart as you try to reach for your sister. "Tess!"

But she doesn’t reach back. She turns away, and you know with certainty it’s the last time you’ll see her face.

“Tess, please!” Sobs erupt from you, and you fight harder now, but Joel is too strong, too broad, too heavy-handed to let you go. “Please! Please! Let me go! Let me stay with her! She's my fucking sister, Joel!”

The fresh air hits you all at once. One moment you’re there, watching your sister get smaller and smaller as infected scratch and rattle the doors, and then you’re back in the rubble of the drab city, the gold dome of Massachusetts State House dwindling.

And then exploding.

As your feet finally hit the floor and you try to nudge Joel away, the earth cracks with black smoke and you’re thrown to the ground. Joel’s warmth shields you, and you feel Ellie trembling at your side.

Silence blankets you like ash. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend it. Any of it.

You shove Joel to look back at the State House. The building that is no longer a building, just debris and fire.

The building where your sister was standing not a moment ago.

“No.” You say the word differently now. Softer. Devastation pierces through it, through you. She’s gone. Tess is gone.

“Darlin’...” Joel puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes, and fury sparks through you.

“You did this!” you scream, hitting his chest again, and again and again. “You took away my choice!” Because the truth is, you would sooner have died in there with Tess than carry on without her. “You took away my fucking sister!” Because he’d gotten her into the jobs, the smuggling. He’d done all of this.

Joel doesn’t react, barely even budging as you slam into him. His jaw is set, trembling, throat bobbing, and finally he catches your hands and locks his fingers around your wrists. “Look at me.”

You can’t. You can’t look at him, or anywhere else. You want to vomit. You want to disappear.

Instead, your chin wobbles and your ribcage opens up and everything pours out of you as you wail.

He catches you as you sink to the ground, pulling you to his chest, and you’re too weak to push him away now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, rocking you gently. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. There was nothing else we could do. Nothing else I could do. But look at me. Please look at me.” He grips your jaw just as Tess had, and you flinch. You hate him. You fist his shirt between your fingers and you want to destroy it, destroy everything around him.

Except you don’t. He’s all you have left, and the realisation makes you numb. Joel fucking Miller is the only goddamn person you have.

You do as he asks. You look at him.

“She bought us time," he says. "We can’t waste it now. Do you understand? We can grieve her later, but right now, we gotta go. We have to get up and keep going. For Tess.”

You hate that he’s right most of all. As you begin to shut down, shock taking over, you look back at the smoking State House and stand. And then you clutch Joel’s collar and bare your teeth.

Ellie stumbles towards you, eyes round with fear, but you’ve lost the will to care about her presence. You’ve lost everything today.

“Don’t you fucking say her name again,” you snap. “You lost that right. I blame you. I blame you for who she became, who we’ve all become.”

Anguish curls across Joel’s features, but you refuse to feel guilty. You let him go roughly and grab your backpack off the floor, the same one you’d clutched during the outbreak just after you’d watched your parents get savaged by your infected neighbours, Tess dragging you to safety. You’d been thirteen years old, and your sister had gotten you through hell and back, that night and every other one that came after.

“It shouldn’t have ended like this,” you whisper into the wind, swallowing your own tears.

It’s the last moment you allow yourself to have, and then you wipe your damp cheeks and glare down at Joel again.

“Get up. Let’s go.”

He does, looking winded as he rises from his knees to his feet. You allow him to lead the way only because he knows the city, knows his way around, far better than you did. Tess rarely let you do jobs out of the QZ, protective until the bitter fucking end.

You wish more than anything you could have protected her.

***

You don’t get the chance to catch your breath again until you get to Bill and Frank’s — which is empty. You never met them yourself, but you know Tess warmed to them, so to find them dead too… it feels like the last piece of good in the world is truly gone. You slump onto their couch still wrapped in numbness as Joel and Ellie gather supplies, reluctant to so much as look at you. Later, you hear them talking about showering, and Ellie thumps up the stairs, leaving the place quiet. You should wash, too. You should eat, drink, prepare for whatever comes next, but you can’t move. Can’t do anything.

After minutes, or perhaps hours, of silence, Joel kneels in front of you with a plate of food. “You need to eat, darlin'. I know it’s hard, but you have to.”

You hate him calling you that. He never used to call you that. He barely addressed you at all, stubborn, grumpy old man he is. But he’s been family for a long time, and the three of you…

You got by together. Until now.

You glance down at the food and your stomach turns.

“Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. It surprises you, that vulnerability bleeding into his words — and it seems to surprise him too, by the look on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Not once.

You take a bite for that alone. It’s dry in your mouth, and you find it hard to swallow, so you push the rest away. He sighs and puts it down on the coffee table, swapping the plate for his flask. You take a swig, whiskey burning like vinegar in your throat.

“If I talk,” he asks, “will you listen?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “No, I don’t feel much like listenin’, Joel.”

Still, he takes your hand. You glare at your intertwined fingers but make no move to pull away. Perhaps part of you still needs to be coddled, taken care of the way Tess might have.

And maybe you need to know you’re not alone. That he isn’t going to give up on you the way he so easily did with Tess. Which is sick, you know, but you’ve never much been able to help the way you feel about him. The way you have always wanted to peel away his layers and understand him. Tear away his self-hatred, guilt, grief, for whatever horrors he faced before.

“I didn’t want this. Not for Tess and sure as hell not for you.”

“I told you,” you bit. “I told you not to say her name.”

“I made a promise to her a long time ago.” He continued as though you hadn’t spoken, his brown eyes pleading. “I promised that if something happened to her, I would always protect you. That’s what I did today. I was honouring that promise, and honouring your sister. If you need someone to blame, someone to hate, if that makes it easier, go ahead. But don’t think for a second that this was a choice I wanted to make. I cared about her. I care about you. And even if I have to drag you kickin’ and screamin’, I’m getting you to Wyoming, to Tommy. You and I still have a job to do.” Slowly, as though unsure how you’ll react, he tucks your hair behind your ear. “That kid needs us, but we need her a hell of a lot more if the cure is real. And I… I need you. I need you here with me, safe. I ain’t losing another…”

He bows his head, words thickening. “I ain’t going back on my promise to Tess, so you can make it difficult as you like. You can never lay your damn eyes on me again. But I’m getting you through this.”

A tear drips down your cheek, your entire body trembling as the sorrow, the grief, finally takes over.

“Oh, baby,” Joel whispers, voice full of the same loss, the same pain.

A whimper escapes you as you put your head in your hands. You can’t even hate him now, because you can imagine your martyr of a sister asking Joel to do just that. To protect you above all else. Still, you despise it — despise that your choices were taken away, your voice ignored.

“I should have been with her,” you say. “She shouldn’t have died alone.”

“She died knowing you were being taken care of.” He squeezes your knee with rough hands. “She died knowing she saved us. It’s the best anyone could’a done. I wish it could have been different.”

“I don’t know how to do this without her,” you admit, because how can you keep it all in? All the love you had for her, all that grief… where will you put it when it’s spilling out of you without warning?

“That’s something we’ll figure out,” Joel responds. He’s drawing circles into your lower thigh now, the pad of his thumb wearing down your denim jeans slowly. Wearing you down slowly. “You should take a shower then see about finishing your food. That hot water… it’ll help. And I won’t be mad if you use it all before I get my turn.” He offers you a small smile.

But you can’t imagine anything ever helping. You close your eyes, sinking back into the couch. “In a minute. I just need…” You don’t know what you need. If you’re being honest, you need Tess.

As though knowing it, Joel rises, the couch cushions dipping with his weight beside you. He lets out a soft sigh, fidgeting with his fingers. You feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face.

A moment later, he’s draping a blanket over you, and your lids flutter open again in confusion.

“S’okay,” Joel says. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

You don’t need to be told twice. But when you try to nod off, you only see Tess burned on the inside of your eyelids. Her face the last time you saw it. The bite. Her pleas for you to go.

You give up quickly, aware Joel is still beside you, unmoving. It isn’t like him to not be moving.

Rubbing your face, you sit up, pushing the blanket off. “Joel…”

“Hmm?”

“Blaming you... it doesn't make it fucking easier. I understand why you did what you did, even if I don’t like it. But if you ever take away my choice again… I won’t go on with you. I can’t. I know you and Tess still see me… saw me,” you correct with a wince, “as a kid, but I’m not. Not anymore. And I sure as hell ain’t your responsibility.”

“I don’t see you as a kid,” he says quietly. “And I don’t see you as my responsibility, either. Honestly?” He purses his lips, tapping on the arm of the couch before he continues, “I see you as the only damn thing worth going out of my way to protect. Make of that what you will. Just… don’t expect me to let you die if that’s your choice. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I won’t apologise for it, either.”

You’re not sure what to say to that; what it means. Why Joel, of all people, is the one to say it. You always thought he and Tess…

“Why? That promise mean so fucking much?”

“Yeah." He looks at you as though for the first time. "Yeah, it does."

You don’t have the energy to wonder what it means anymore. Instead, you pull yourself up on unsteady feet. Your mind is racing, and that shower is sounding better as reality sets in. Just in time, Ellie returns with damp hair and fresh clothes. She offers a small, reassuring smile, and you ruffle her hair, feeling guilty that a fourteen-year-old was subjected to everything you went through in Boston. Whoever she is, whatever purpose people want her to serve… she’s just a kid, and you couldn’t hold it together for her today. That makes you a shitty chaperone.

“My turn,” you mumble, glancing at Joel a final, wary time before heading upstairs. His expression doesn’t change, but you see something new in it now. Something strange.

Something that looks an awful lot like care.

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cordycepspog · 1 year

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I love that Ellie likes the smell of Frank’s sleeping bag. I love that she got Frank’s gun. I love how much of an influence he has on her without even meeting her. I love that his spirit continues on in her. I love that invisible connection.

#tlou #tlou hbo #tlou spoilers #the last of us #ellie williams #frank tlou

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

after - part twenty-five

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you just have to keep going.

a/n: the big one. the biggest yet? I think? either way. this is pretty much the entirety of episode three in one part. I considered doing the rest of the story this way (one part per episode) but there's going to be a lot more added to the plot, so much more to come!

word count: 14.2k

warnings: if you've been reading this far, you know the drill, but explicit smut ahead!

✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨

You head west. Toward Lincoln. You walk for miles; maybe ten, if Joel had to guess. And the entire way, you don’t say a goddamn word. Not a single thing.

Ellie is uncharacteristically quiet the whole way, not a question or comment as you walk past the edge of the city, past what remains of the chain link fence you once told Joel was FEDRA’s original plan before the QZ was built. Ellie has your bat in her hands still, and she carries it silently, tapping her fingers against the metal softly, not hard enough to make any noise. You have Tess’s gun in hand, your grip on it so tight Joel is sure your knuckles are aching.

You walk through the forest until you’re all so tired you think you might drop. The night is cool, no rain to bother you, and you find a small clearing near the river to set up camp. Not that there’s much to set up. Ellie nearly collapses into the dirt, sprawling at the base of a tree, using her bag as a pillow. You go to shrug out of your jacket, stepping over and draping it over the kid. Joel follows suit, shrugging out of his own and putting it around your shoulders.

“Can’t risk a fire,” Joel murmurs to you, the two of you standing in the clearing. You ditched your bags once you found the spot, leaned them against a tree along with the bat, which Ellie had handed back to you, and the rifle. “Not this close to Boston.”

You just nodded in agreement, wrapping your arms around yourself. Joel rubs his hand up and down your back, and you turn to look at Ellie, completely passed out beneath Joel’s jacket. “What are we gonna do, Joel?” you whisper, your voice hoarse, and he can hear the panic in you. “What the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Exactly what we said we would. We go to Lincoln first. It’s a good hike, but we’ve done it before, we can do it again. We resupply, figure things out with Bill and Frank, and then…well, Tommy used to be a Firefly, maybe he can point us in the right direction.”

“We need to get to Lincoln as soon as we can,” you say, a slight waver in your voice, but you swallow it back. “We need to rest, to reset.”

To mourn.

It goes without saying, and Joel nods. He moves his hand to your shoulder, makes to pull you into his arms, but you move out of his grip instead of into it, turning to where your weapons are leaned against the tree. You pick up the rifle, and then head toward the edge of the trees surrounding you, toward where the river runs, the sound audible from where you’re standing.

“I’ll take the first watch,” you murmur over your shoulder, swinging the rifle up. “Get some rest.”

You never wake him. Sleep finds Joel easily, his body exhausted from the travel, but it’s the kind of sleep where he feels like he’s merely shut his eyes and opened them again, even though hours have passed. He closes his eyes on an inky black sky, and wakes to one filled with clouds, an almost lavender colour poking between the streaks of white.

The rifle is still missing from its previous spot beside your bat, and Joel knows gunfire would have woken him. But where are you? He gets to his feet slowly, every bone in his body aching with protest, leaning his good hand against a tree for a moment as he stretches out his back.

He walks over to where Ellie’s still passed out, and nudges her with his boot, just a light tap. She whines, hiding her face under his coat, and he taps her again. “Wake up, kid,” he grunts, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “Now.”

Following the sound of the river, Joel steps through the trees, bowing his head to watch his step until the water comes into view. Sure enough, there you are, sat right at the shoreline, your arms wrapped around your knees, which are pulled up to your chest. The rifle sits in the dirt beside you, and there’s a stack of rocks piled neatly, almost impossibly high.

“You didn’t wake me,” he calls, his voice hoarse with the morning. You jump, turn to look at him over your shoulder, and Joel’s heart squeezes at the tears on your face. “Liv, baby—”

“I didn’t see the point,” you reply, sniffling, wiping your cheeks with your sleeve. “I knew I wouldn’t sleep, figured one of us should get some good shuteye.”

Joel grimaces, squatting down beside you, looking out at the river. “Y’know, I always heard sleeping on the forest floor was good for your back. Load of shit.”

“Ellie awake?”

“I nudged her.”

You just nod.

“Liv,” he starts, and reaches his hand out.

“Don’t, Joel,” you grit out, nearly flinching away from him. “Just…if you touch me right now, I’ll start crying, and if I start crying now, I’m not gonna fucking stop.”

“Liv—”

“Don’t,” you repeat, your eyes brimming with tears as you stare back at him. “Please? Just…let’s just get to Lincoln, and figure out what we’re doing next.” You scramble to your feet, grabbing the rifle up off the ground. Joel follows suit, straightening his legs, and for a moment, he almost says fuck it and grabs you. But he doesn’t. He watches your eyes move up his body, landing on his face, and one lone tear slips down your cheek before you swipe at it. You hand him the rifle as you brush past, heading back up the bank to your camping spot.

He feels the loss differently than you do. He knows that. What he and Tess’s relationship had evolved into was vastly different than the closeness that had formed between you, but it didn’t mean he cared any less. She was Tess, steadfast and reliable, determined and headstrong. Just like you. How many times had he thought about that, before he made it back to Boston? How well he thought you and Tess would get along, the way the ferocity in each of you reminded him of the other.

And now, she’s gone. Just like that.

Joel waits a moment, looks out across the river, at the slowly rising sun, at the tower of rocks you’ve left on the shoreline. He bends down again, leaning some of his weight on the rifle, his knees creaking as he goes. He reaches into the water, hissing as the cold covers his hand. He closes his fingers around a smooth, flat stone and pulls it from the riverbed. It’s nearly a perfect circle, dark stone with a vein of white running through it.

Carefully, ignoring the way his hand trembles as he sets it down, he lays the stone atop your tower. He pauses, makes sure it stays upright, and then rises to his feet again, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and walking back to the clearing.

You’re still on your way back, and his boots find the footprints you’ve left in the mud, matching your steps as you walk ahead of him. You’re both silent as you walk back up the slight hill to the camp, finding Ellie fully awake, sitting against one of the tree trunks. Her bag sits beside her, and your jacket is now draped across her knees.

Wordlessly, you walk across to where your bags are set at the base of another tree. You pull Joel’s jacket off and hand it to him before stooping to your bag, yanking open the zipper, digging through the contents. “You want your jacket back?” Ellie calls to you, but you don’t answer, pulling out the little parcel of dried beef from your bag. You unfold the paper, take a small piece before handing it to Joel. He snaps off a bit, refolds the paper, and then tosses it to Ellie. It lands at her feet, and she shoots him a glare as she reaches for it, the paper rustling. “I’ve never been in the woods,” she continues as you re-zip the bag. “More bugs than I thought.”

You don’t say a word, but Joel’s close enough to hear your slow exhale.

“Look, I’ve been thinking about—” the kid starts.

“Don’t, kid,” Joel calls, lifting a hand.

“Listen to me for a second,” she shoots back, and Joel sees the way your back straightens, your shoulders pushed back. Defensive. “I was gonna say that I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made any of you take me. Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery, or whatever, and you made a choice.” Her eyes flick from Joel’s to yours. “So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.”

For a moment, the only noise around you is the river, bubbling in the distance. You brace your hands on your knees, slowly straightening, and Joel puts his hand on your back as you do, testing, seeing what your reaction might be. You surprise him by leaning into the touch, though he doesn’t miss the silvery line of tears along your lashes.

“She’s got a point,” you say, your voice still a bit hoarse as you turn to look at him. “We made a choice.”

It’s a loaded statement if Joel’s ever heard one. You made a choice. You both made a choice, all those years ago. Keep your secret safe, don’t let anyone — FEDRA, Fireflies, nobody — get their hands on you. Don’t let anyone take you from him. It’s the most selfish choice Joel’s ever made. He knows that. You both do.

But if you hadn’t, maybe Tess would still be alive.

Stubborn as he is, even he knows that’s not Ellie’s fault.

You made a choice, all of you.

“I’m sorry, kid,” you call, turning towards her. “It’s not your fault. It’s just…not what any of us bargained for.”

Joel snorts. “Ain’t that the truth.”

You both pick up your bags, you slide the bat between the straps, and Ellie gets to her feet, walking over to you with your coat outstretched towards you. You nod as you take it, pulling it on. “How much longer?” Ellie asks.

“Five-hour hike,” Joel answers when you glance at him.

“We can manage that.”

The weather holds up for your hike toward Lincoln. Joel leads, Ellie trails behind him, and you bring up the rear. You don’t miss the way Joel glances over his shoulder at you every once in a while, his gaze hard, and you just give him a slight nod each time.

Your head is a mess.

Tess knew. She knew almost the entire time, since Tommy fucked off to be a Firefly. That whole time, and she never said a goddamned thing.

Her final words echo through your mind, clear as a fucking bell.

It didn’t matter, Liv; it doesn’t matter. I knew Joel would never let them take you, no matter what it would fix, not if it wasn’t guaranteed, if it meant taking you from him. But now…this could be real. She’s real, Liv. The kid. She can fix it. Make up for all the bad shit we did.

These Fireflies out west, the ones looking for the cure, if they had more of you, would they have a better chance? Would the odds be better if they had two instead of one?

You shake the thought from your head as Joel looks back again, meeting your gaze. There’s a cut on his cheek, from your tussle in the museum yesterday, and you wish you had something to clean it with. You need to look at his hand again, too.

Take care of him, Liv.

You chew the inside of your cheek. You can let Ellie take your place, let her save the world, let her be the hero.

You can’t leave Joel.

The sun hides behind the clouds for the first leg of your journey, and once you’re out of the forest and on the open road, your trio falls into step with each other, Ellie in the middle of the two of you.

And fuck, does this kid ask a lot of questions.

“You’ve gone this way a lot?” she asks, the first thing anyone has said since you left the clearing. “No Infected?”

“We used it pretty regularly before,” Joel answers, but he doesn’t look at her as he says it, his head on a swivel, good hand tight around the rifle. “But recently, not so much.”

“What are you looking out for?”

“People.”

“Oh.”

She looks at you. “Are Bill and Frank nice?”

Before you can, Joel answers again. “Frank is.”

“Joel,” you chastise, shooting him a look. “They’re both nice. Frank is great, Bill is just more…practical.”

“Practical?” Ellie repeats, lifting a brow.

“Crazy, she means,” Joel quips, and you reach around Ellie, punching him in the arm. “Hey!”

The next question: “So are you two, like, married or something?”

“We are,” you nod.

“For how long?”

You pause, realizing you’re not totally sure, and Joel answers yet again. “Thirteen years.”

Jesus, has it been that long?

Ellie looks at him, then back at you. “So you met after the outbreak?”

That sends something like a shock down your spine, and you and Joel look at each other over Ellie’s head. “No,” you answer, and for a moment, it’s 2001, you’re standing in the middle of the hardware store, and Joel Miller is standing in front of you for the very first time, asking for a quarter-inch drill bit in that lovely drawl of his. It’s a good memory, a happy one, one that time cannot ruin. Despite it all, the corner of your mouth lifts. “No, we knew each other before.”

Her head snaps back to Joel. “You said you were from Austin.”

“I am,” he tells her, but his eyes are still on yours. “That’s where we met.”

“Wait, so how long have you known each other for?”

“That’s a long story, kid,” you say, shoving your hand through your hair.

“Yeah, and this is a long fuckin’ hike.”

“Some other time.”

“Please?”

“Ellie.”

“Please?”

“Enough,” Joel barks, but it’s halfhearted.

Ellie sulks for all of thirty seconds before something else piques her interest. “How’d you get that scar on your head?” she asks Joel, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at it.

It’s like fucking whiplash, going from a happy memory to a god-awful one. Your side prickles with it.

Joel sighs, but it just spurs Ellie’s questioning. “What? Is it something lame? Like you fell down the stairs or something?”

“I didn’t fall down any stairs.”

“Okay, so what then?”

You’re staring at your boots, watching each step you take, trying to swallow down the guilt that has crept up your throat. You can feel Joel look at you before he speaks. “Someone shot at me and missed.”

“See, that’s cool,” Ellie replies, waving her hand in the air. For a moment, you think you may vomit. “You shoot back?”

“Yeah.”

“You get him?”

You swallow hard, kicking a rock out of your path. “No,” Joel says after a beat, “I missed, too. It happens more often than you think. Clipped him in the ribs, I think.”

“Shoulder,” you correct, and suddenly Ellie’s attention is on you.

“You were there?” she asks, incredulous, and you just nod. “Why’d they both miss? They suck at shooting, or just like, in general?”

Joel shakes his head. “In general.”

Ellie goes quiet for a long moment, looking at Joel and then back at you, back and forth again. “Y’know, I still have that spare hand.”

You’re about to say it’s not a bad idea, Tess’s pistol in the pocket of your coat, but Joel beats you to the punch. “No.”

“Okay,” she nearly whines. “Jeez.”

After about an hour more of walking, Ellie only pouting slightly, and a familiar gas station comes into view. The place is untouched, the only thing that’s changed over the years is the slow creep of nature taking back the space, the trees encroaching closer in on either side.

“Cumberland Farms?” Ellie reads out, her head cocked to the side as Joel heads for the door. “What are we doing here?”

“Got some stuff stashed inside,” Joel answers, rifle swinging from his shoulder.

“Stashed?” Ellie repeats. “Why do you have stuff stashed here?”

“Just in case,” you tell her, stepping over a crack in the pavement as Joel pushes the door open. “Like Joel said, we used to take this path a lot.”

“To get to Bill and Frank’s?” she asks.

“You ask a lot of goddamned questions,” Joel grumbles, and Ellie just grins.

“Yes, I do.”

As you step inside, Joel glances your way. “Shoulda grabbed her bag,” he says, his brow knitting together, and you don’t need him to specify. “We split the food between you and her, didn’t we?”

You just nod, opening your mouth as Ellie shouts, “No way!” She’s grinning the widest you’ve yet to see, beelining across the gas station to a large arcade game tucked in the corner. The glass is shattered in one corner, the whole thing covered in a thick layer of dust. She’s immediately hitting the buttons, rattling the joysticks. “You ever play this one?”

You and Joel just look at each other.

“I had a friend who knew everything about this game,” Ellie continues, and you find yourself staring at her back while Joel kicks a piece of wood out of the way, searching for the stash box. “There’s this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones! Oh, man.”

Behind you, Joel pushes a long-empty shelf across the floor, the metal squeaking. Ellie turns to look at you both, and you instantly look away, feeling caught.

Joel kicks at an empty can on the ground and Ellie rolls her eyes. “You forgot where you put your stuff.”

“No,” he quips, lifting his head. “I’m just…zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple years since we came in here.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna take a look around, see if there’s anything good,” she replies, turning on her heel and heading towards the back of the gas station.

“Trust me,” you call out, “it’s all been picked over already. We cleared this place out back in the day.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she replies, waving her hand in the air. Joel returns to his search, and Ellie turns back to you. “Is there anything bad in here?”

“Just you,” Joel calls back, and you smack his shoulder.

“Ah, getting funnier,” Ellie deadpans, and disappears through the doorway. A few moments pass, and you hear the scrape of metal.

“You okay in there?” Joel calls out, his brow crinkling.

“Yeah!” Ellie calls back, and he just shakes his head, pushing at the empty freezer in front of him.

“She’s a weird fuckin’ kid,” he grits, grunting as he shoves at the appliance. “So many goddamn questions.”

“If I was growing up in a time like this, I’d have a lot of goddamn questions too,” you reply, putting your hands on your hips, and Joel straightens with a sigh. “Where the fuck did we put that box?”

“I don’t know,” he replies, rubbing his fingers across his forehead. His hand drops, but a beat after it hits his thigh, he lifts it again, reaching for you. “Liv—”

You let him grab your hand, enough that his fingers thread through yours, knuckles locked together, but you shake your head. “Don’t, Joel. Please.”

“I just wanna—” I just wanna make sure you’re okay.

You’re not. It’s that fucking simple. But you can’t break down in the middle of the fucking gas station.

“I know you do,” you reply, squeezing his hand lightly. “Just…not here. Please.”

“Okay,” he grits out, and with a heavy breath, he lets go of his hand and reaches for his knife, kneeling down. “Let’s just find the box, then.”

You watch for a moment as he sweeps trash out of the way, a nearly white-knuckle grip on his knife. You want nothing more than to pull him up by the shoulder of his coat, haul him against you, bury your face in his chest. You want that warm, steady comfort he’s trying so hard to give to you, the thump of his heart against your ear and his arms tight around you.

It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay.

But is it?

You crouch down to help with the search, rapping your knuckles against the cracked tiles, sweeping the debris out of the way first so you don’t cut yourself. You can feel Joel watching for a moment, but when you go to glance back at him, his eyes dart away.

Finally, you find a tile that sounds different than the others. “Joel,” you call holding your hand out for the knife, closing your fingers around the hilt. The blade hits the metal box with a satisfying clink when you jam it through the tile, and you use the blade to pry it up. “Jackpot.”

There’s a little bag filled with medical supplies in the box, and you reach for that first. Then you hand Joel the box of ammunition. He starts picking through it, fishing out the bullets that’ll fit his pistol, when he realizes there hasn’t been a sound from the direction Ellie disappeared in.

He hands you back the box, and curls his hand around the rifle, taking a step towards the door she went through. “Ellie?” he calls, lifting his hand in your direction, making you pause your movements. He can’t ignore the way his stomach drops. You call his name slightly, and he walks towards the door, calling louder now. “Ellie!”

“Picked over my ass,” she declares, appearing from the darkened doorway. She’s got a box of tampons in her hand, a smug smile on her face, and when Joel turns back, he sees you pop up from the floor, your jaw dropping when you see what she’s found.

“No fucking way.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll share,” Ellie says, unzipping her bag and stuffing the box inside. “Least I can do.”

Joel returns to where you’re standing over the box. Sufficiently resupplied, Joel closes the box, fitting it back into the space it had been hidden, and, his dig through the box of ammunition proving fruitless for the larger gun, sliding the rifle in beside it. He can feel the kid watching him, and when he glances up, there’s something close to concern in her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s not much ammo out there for this thing,” he tells her, reaching for the tile you’d yanked up and fitting it back into place. “Makes it mostly useless.”

“Well, if you’re just gonna leave it there,” Ellie says, waving her hand at where the gun is now hidden.

Joel shoots to his feet, hearing you huff out your breath as he tells her firmly again, “No.”

He grabs his bag from where it’s laying on the ground, slings it over his shoulder. “C’mon,” you say to Ellie, reaching for your own bag. “Still a ways to go.”

It’s warmer, when you step back out of the gas station, leaving Cumberland Farms behind as you head back towards the road. Warm enough that Joel shrugs out of his jacket, stuffing it through the strap of his bag. It’s not long before you and Ellie follow suit, Ellie tying hers around her waist. After a bit of walking, Joel feels you move up toward his right, sensing your presence more than hearing your steps.

You put your hand in his, your fingers tightly wound together. He chances a glance in your direction, just a quick one, seeing the firm set to your jaw, your eyes trained on the path before you. He’s surprised enough at your touch. You’d allowed him the same back at the gas station, but only long enough to tell him not to push it further, not to give you the comfort that was trying to claw its way out of him like some kind of rabid animal.

He just wanted to make you feel okay. He knows good is a stretch, knows it’s a hard sell when he doesn’t have his bare body pressed to yours, every ache and pain soothed away by the way you writhe beneath him, feeling the same.

Joel catches himself, reaching down with his free hand to adjust the waist of his jeans. Not the fuckin’ time. Or place. He’s starting to wish he’d made more of it, when he’d woke you early a few days ago, before the sun was up, before either of you had to even think about getting out of bed. He’d moved over you slowly, woke you with soft kisses along your jaw, gentle until your eyes fluttered and you made a little noise, roused by his touches.

He should have kissed you longer, should have let his mouth trail lower than just your chest. He’d lifted the hem of your t-shirt, teeth scraping at the sensitive flesh of your breast, but he should have roved lower. He should have tasted you at the source, lapped at you until your legs were shaking around his ears, until he could slide into you with little resistance, the only place that’s truly felt like home to him.

Coughing, tugging at his jeans again, he squeezes your fingers, lifts your joined hands until he can press his lips to your knuckles. Behind you, Ellie makes a gagging noise. “You guys are kinda gross,” she says, and when you both turn your heads back to look at her, she’s got a funny grin on her lips. “But like, in a cute way.”

“Gee, thanks,” Joel deadpans, and beside him, you actually giggle.

“So will you tell me now how you guys—” Ellie starts to ask, but cuts herself off, coming to a stop as you reach a break in the trees lining the road. “Holy shit.”

Off in the distance, sprawled atop a large hill, is a plane. Or, what remains of one. The pieces are long decayed, the rusted-out metal visible even from where you’re standing.

Ellie whistles out her awe. “You fly in one of those?”

“A few times, sure,” Joel answers. your fingers flexing in his grip.

“So lucky.”

“Didn’t feel like it at the time,” he tells her. “Get shoved into a middle seat, pay twelve bucks for a sandwich.”

“Dude, you got to go up in the sky,” the kid emphasizes, and you stifle your laugh.

He’s begrudgingly grateful, for this weird kid, that she distracts you enough from what’s happened to make you laugh.

“So did they,” you mumble, looking away from the scene before you.

“Oof,” Ellie fake-winces, squinting at you. “Grim.”

The three of you continue down the path for a little while longer, and just when he’s starting to think he’ll have peace and quiet the rest of the way to Lincoln, the kid pipes up with more questions. She seems to notice his reluctance to answer, however, because she moves around to your side, interrogating you instead of Joel.

“So, everything came crashing down in one day?”

“Basically.”

“But how? No one was infected with cordyceps, everybody’s fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then all at once, it was over? How did it even start? If you have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”

You chuckle again, shaking your head. “They don’t teach you this in FEDRA school?”

She blows a raspberry. “Yeah, they don’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.”

You’re quiet for a moment before you start giving her the spiel. “No one really knows where it started, or really how, but the best guess is that cordyceps mutated. It got into the food supply, some kind of basic ingredient like flour, something that was in basically everything. And certain brands of food were sold all across the country, all over the world even. Bread, cereal, pancake mix, that sort of thing.”

At the words pancake mix, Joel grips your hand tighter. You don’t flinch, squeezing back.

“They figure, if you eat enough of it, then it’ll get you infected. So all this tainted food hits the store shelves around the same time Thursday, people bought it, ate it that night, or the next morning, and the day went on. People started getting sick, started turning, and by the evening, it was worse. They started biting, started attacking people.”

“Were you attacked?”

You go quiet, but from the corner of his eye, Joel sees you nod. “My boyfriend at the time, Dean. I was out celebrating my birthday, and I came home and found him, just standing there. Then he started twitching, then he lunged at me. Gave me this.” Joel turns just in time to see you pulling back the strap of your bag and the collar of your flannel, letting Ellie see the scars on your shoulder, the jagged lines Dean had left in your skin.

“Shit,” the kid curses. “That’s intense. You killed him?”

Another nod. “With my bat.”

Ellie’s jaw drops. “That’s…pretty badass, actually.”

You bark a laugh. “Thanks, kid.”

“Wait,” she says, lifting a hand. “It was your birthday?”

“Yep,” you answer, nodding again. “Joel’s too.”

“No shit.”

“Shit. Friday, September 26th, 2003. My twenty-fifth birthday. By Monday, everything was gone, and they started dropping bombs not long after that.”

Ellie finally settles into silence for a moment before she says, “It makes more sense than monkeys. Thanks, Liv.”

“You’re welcome, kid.”

He’s been distracted as you’ve walked, listening to the sound of your voice, trying to catch any dip or crack that might give him space to swoop in, take over, make you feel safe again. Even if he doesn’t really want to answer the kid’s incessant questions, he can do it for you, if he has to. But you haven’t wavered, and Joel feels that begrudging gratitude take up a more permanent residence in his chest. At least, while the kid is still around.

And then he realizes where you are.

“Wait,” he calls out, and both of you stop in your tracks, you holding your arm out to stop Ellie from taking another step. “We’ll cut across the woods here.”

“Isn’t the road easier?” Ellie asks, glancing between the both of you. Joel sees the realization on your face, and you sigh.

“Yeah, it is, it’s just…” You trail off, clearly not quite sure what to tell the kid.

Joel finds the words before you do. “There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see.”

She grins. “Well, now I have to see it.” And with that, she ducks under your raised arm, continuing on down the path.

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to,” Joel grits out, and pulls you to step after him, following her. “I’m serious, Ellie.”

She tilts her head back, calling back to the both of you. “Can it hurt me?”

“No,” Joel calls back, hearing you sigh after.

“Not in the way you’re thinking of,” you say, rubbing at your brow. “Ellie, wait, just—”

“You guys worry too much,” she calls, picking up her pace a bit. “Besides, if you really wanted to stop me, you should have said axe murderer.”

You heave a sigh as she continues on, almost at the spot you didn’t want her to be. Joel’s spine tingles as you come up to the bend in the road. He still remembers the first time you found this spot, the first time you had gone to Bill and Frank’s.

“Uh, whatever it is,” Ellie yells back to you, “I think it’s gone.” But then her steps slow, her attention dragged off the side of the road, and Joel’s fingers squeeze around yours.

As you come up behind her, stopping when she turns to look at you, Joel answers the question before she even asks. You were the one to tell him the story, and after just rehashing your own experience on the day of the outbreak — and saving him from telling his own, he realizes — he can tell the kid this.

“About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers…”

He trails off for a moment. It’s hard not to imagine Cowan’s face as his eyes are pulled towards the ground. You had been adamant that Nick hadn’t been a part of it, but Joel had never felt like the soldier was telling you the entire truth. That, and a bullet to the head, and Joel is more than a little biased, but…

He sighs, continuing. “They went through the countryside and evacuated the small towns. Told you you were goin’ to a QZ, and you were, if there was room. If there wasn’t…”

The words trail off again, and his eyes can’t pull away from the bones in the dirt, the few scraps of clothing still tethered in the earth.

“These people weren’t sick?” Ellie asks, her voice snapping on the words.

“Most likely no,” you answer, and Joel feels your body turn against his, both of your hands now wrapped around his.

“Then why kill them? Why not just leave ‘em be?”

“Better dead than infected,” you reply. “At least, that’s the way FEDRA saw it.” You turn your face away from the body pit. You reach out and tug on the handle of Ellie’s backpack. “C’mon. We should get going. Almost there.”

You’re more and more nervous, with every step you take.

Joel notices, gripping your hand a little tighter. You haven’t let go for hours at this point, and your palm is sweaty against his, but he doesn’t seem to care, and neither do you. Depending on what you find beyond the gate, you know he’ll be the only thing to keep you upright.

What if they’re dead? What if they’re dying?

You can’t decide what option is better. Which is worse.

As you round that final corner, the gate Bill built around the small town coming into view, your breath catches in your throat. Nature hasn’t let up anywhere, but when you were still visiting, Bill and Frank had always kept everything trimmed back — Bill more than Frank, but you knew the latter had a penchant for instructing the former what needed attention.

But now, plants crawl across the top of the fence, wrapping through the wires. Long-dead, thanks to the electrical current, but left in place, unbothered by the inhabitants of Lincoln. Your mind spins. It could be that Bill just couldn’t be bothered with it anymore, that his old knees couldn’t take the hike up the ladder. Maybe he’s got a laundry list of things for Joel to do now that you’ve come back.

The hum of the fence is familiar as you approach, the DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE sign split in half, whether by the decay of time or by something else, you can’t be sure.

Joel squeezes your fingers before letting go, murmuring to you and Ellie to stay in place as he walks up to the gate, reaching out a cautious hand to enter the code. Bill told you long ago what it was — 37265, F-R-A-N-K — in case you ever needed to come in when they couldn’t let you in. The man really had thought of everything.

Your shoulders sag with relief when the fence beeps open, Joel pushing the gate inward to let you all inside. Something inside you snaps, and the moment you’re through the gate, you’re off like a shot, striding with purpose toward the old house. All around you, Lincoln shows signs of abandonment, overgrown grass, leaves littering the sidewalks and streets. One of the fence gates at another house bangs against its latch in the wind.

Behind you, you hear Joel call your name, his boots picking up the pace to match yours, but he doesn’t catch up until you’re standing in front of Bill and Frank’s home. It looks less unkempt than the rest, but the flowers on either side of the low front gate are wilted, the steps nearly brown, petals covering the ground beneath. It’s not promising.

Joel catches your arm. “Let me go in first,” he tells you, his voice low, but you shake your head, shake off his grip, and stride up the walkway to the porch.

The door’s unlocked. It creaks open when you push it inward, the sunlight streaming through the doorway. Joel steps up behind you, Ellie behind him, and you step inside slowly, through the small foyer, stopping at the base of the stairs.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

Joel turns toward the dining room and you toward the living room. The air feels thick with dust, the complete opposite of the homeliness you’re used to feeling the moment you walk through that door.

“What the fuck?” Ellie murmurs.

It’s only a beat after that Joel calls, “Bill?”

You step into the living room, seeing Frank’s half-done painting on the easel, the beginnings of Bill’s likeness looking back at you. “Frank?”

Nothing but quiet.

Your stomach twists, and you can feel Ellie looking at you. There’s a streak of concern in her eyes, and you lift your hand in her direction. You pull out your gun, and Joel follows suit. “Stay there, okay? If you hear anything, if you see anything, yell for one of us.” She doesn’t say anything at first, and you prompt her. “Clear?”

“Clear,” she repeats, nodding. But then her voice drops. “What if they’re gone?”

Then it’s just one more nail in my coffin, kid. That’s what you want to say. Instead, you say nothing, turning on your heel and striding towards the back of the living room. There’s a thin layer of dust on everything, every surface you look at. Distantly, you hear Ellie tap at the piano keys, and it sends a chill down your spine.

The living room leads you back and around to the kitchen, and you find Joel there, looking through the back door, the small greenhouse and the garden beyond it. It’s not as overgrown as the rest, but most of the garden is dead, threads of ivy climbing up the glass of the greenhouse.

“Anything?” you ask, willing your voice not to crack on the question.

He shakes his head.

Joel follows you out of the kitchen, into the hallway that runs the length of the stairs. There’s a bedroom on the lower level; when the stairs got too much for Frank, they moved downstairs. You lift your hand and knock on the door, the sound echoing on the other side.

Nothing.

Joel’s hand lands on your shoulder and your hand drops to the handle. Unlike the front door, it doesn’t give when you twist the knob. “Liv,” Joel says quietly, his fingers digging into your shoulder slightly. “Baby.”

The front door slams shut all of a sudden, moved by the wind, and you both flinch.

It goes without saying, now.

They’re gone.

You both look back to the front door, Ellie nowhere in sight, and despite the heartbreak that’s sweeping through you like a tidal wave, your instincts kick into gear, and you step out of Joel’s grip, calling the kid’s name as you make your way to the door. “Ellie!”

“In here,” she calls as you step into the foyer, and your head turns in the direction of her voice, finding her sitting in one of the dining room chairs. You hadn’t noticed before, but there are two plates set at the end of the table, the remnants of food on them long moulded over, flies buzzing around. Twin wine glasses stand between the plates, and there’s a small empty baggie on the table.

They’re gone.

Your attention turns back to Ellie, you force it there, seeing the folded piece of paper in her hands. Joel’s steps creak as he comes up beside you, reaching for your hand as Ellie says, “It’s from Bill.” You both put your guns away. There’s no need. Ellie reaches for the torn envelope on the table. “To whomever, but probably Joel. I figured I fell under ‘whomever’. There’s this, too.”

She picks up another envelope, this one unopened, and extends it toward you. Along with it, a car key.

“It only has your name on it. And the key was in this one.”

You both drop your bags, you lean the bat against the wall. Joel takes the key, and you take the second envelope. Your hands are shaking as you do.

“So they’re…?” you trail off, unable to say the words as Ellie looks back at Bill’s note. Dead. She gives a tiny affirmative noise. You inhale sharply, your fingers crinkling the envelope, and Joel reaches for your free hand. She extends the paper towards Joel, but he shakes his head.

“You read it.”

You don’t know if you can handle this. But you have to.

Ellie clears her throat, and starts to read.

August 29th, 2023.

If you find this, please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight.

I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehehehehehehehe.

Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse.

Anyway, I never liked you. But still, it’s like we’re friends almost. And I respect you. I respect the love you have for that girl. You’ve done right by her, and I know you’ll keep doing it. So I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand.

I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way.

I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. The truck is in the garage, and there are guns in the bunker. Use them to keep Olivia and Tess safe, until such time you decide you’ve had enough. At that point, I recommend pairing 40 Vicodins with a nice Brunello.

Good luck, Joel. You’re gonna need it.

Bill

There are tears on your face, sliding down your cheeks unbidden, and Joel feels his own emotions crawl up the back of his throat.

Wordlessly, you tear into the envelope in your hand, pulling out the folded paper within. The note is shorter than Bill’s, the handwriting scratchier, letters falling off the pages in some places. Joel can only watch as your eyes scan over the words, again and again and again. The tears come harder. He wants to reach for you — he needs to reach for you — but before he can get a grip, you slap the paper again his chest and turn on your heel, bolting out the front door.

My sweet Liv,

This letter will not be as long as I would like. My hands are not cooperating lately, and I’m sure I’ll have to come back and finish this more than once. It’s okay. I’m old. This is just the way things are.

I hope you find this, someday. I could be writing to no one now. It’s been a while since we heard from you, since we were able to speak, and god, I miss you, Liv. I wish you and Joel and Tess had come when you had the chance. I wish we could have stayed closer, lived together.

But I can’t waste my time on what could have been. I know what you find here will hurt, and for that, I’m sorry. But you have to know, I had a good life. Were there bad days? Of course. The world ended, after all, and yet I still managed to make the most of it.

Take care of Joel. Promise me that you won’t ever stop paying attention, that you’ll keep showing him you love him. He’d move heaven and earth for you, and I know you’d do the same for him.

It might not feel like it now, but things will be okay, Liv. I promise.

All my love,

Frank x

“Stay here,” Joel tells Ellie. He doesn’t wait to see if she nods, he’s already out the door, Frank’s note crumpled in his hand. He steps out onto the porch, onto the walkway, and that’s when he sees you, on your knees in the grass, nearly crumpled forward.

He calls your name, but you don’t seem to notice. Even as he runs for you, moving in front of you, dropping to his knees, taking your face in his hands, you barely flinch. Your face is soaked with tears, your eyes squeezed shut, hands clawing at your shirt, pulling at the material. “I-I can’t—” you choke out, and you slump forward when he grabs your wrists, tugging your arms around his shoulders.

Your face pressed into his chest, he feels his shirt cling to his skin in an instant, wet with your tears. He fits his arms under yours, keeping you upright, keeping you against him.

“Liv, baby,” he murmurs, his cheek pressed to your temple. “Baby, you gotta talk to me. Let me help you.”

“Tess knew,” you blubber out, lifting your head so fast you nearly knock Joel in the chin. Your eyes are bloodshot, your lashes clumped together. “Tommy told her before he left with the Fireflies. She knew the whole goddamn time what I am, Joel, and she never said a damn thing. And if I hadn’t been so fucking selfish all these years, she could still be alive!”

Joel shakes his head, lifting his hand until he can cup your cheek in his palm. “No, baby, that’s not what—”

“Yes, it is! If I’d given myself over when it first happened, everything could be different now! This all could be over. It—”

“Or you could be dead!” Joel snaps, and he has both hands on your face now, forcing you to look at him. “They could have killed you for it, or what if it didn’t work? What if nothing changed? We made a choice, Liv. Tess made a choice. Bill and Frank, they—” He cuts himself off, dropping his chin to his chest. The sob you let out rattles his ribs. “We made choices, baby. Choices to stay alive, to stay together.”

Your eyes slip shut again and you nod between his hands, but another sob falls from your lips, your hands moving down to fist in the front of his jacket. “It hurts, Joel. It hurts so fucking bad and I can’t breathe and it just hurts and I—”

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, and pulls you close again, his mouth at the crown of your head. He puts his arms back around you, one around your middle, one across your shoulders. Slowly, he rocks you side to side, humming against your hair. “I know it hurts. It’ll pass, I promise you. You gotta give it time, you hear me? You’ll be okay.” He pauses, inhales sharply when you whimper. “We’ll be okay.”

He’s not sure how much time passes, the two of you kneeling there in the grass, but his joints start to protest after a while. Your sobs subside, your breathing levelling out to an almost normal pace. You don’t let go of him, your hands still locked in his jacket. But your head tilts back against his chest, until his mouth is resting on your forehead.

“What are we gonna do, Joel?”

He rubs his hand across your shoulders. He’ll hold you as long as he has to, to make you feel safe, make you feel okay. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. “We stock up, take what we can. We go find Tommy. That was always the plan, anyway.”

“What about the kid?”

“Tommy might know someone, somewhere we can take her. If not, we find a way to radio Marlene, find a new place to meet, something. We’ll figure it out. Always do.”

Your eyes slip shut again, your arms lowering slightly so you can sling them around his waist. Your face fits into the curve of his neck, and he squeezes you softly.

“I promise you, baby,” he murmurs to you, lips grazing whatever part of your face he can reach. “We’ll be okay. I’ll keep you safe.”

“And I’ll keep you safe.”

Slowly but surely, you both get to your feet, and while you start in the direction of the front door, the double-door garage to the side of the house catches Joel’s attention. When you lift a brow, he pulls the car key from his pocket, and you follow his lead, walking towards the garage. You pull one of the doors open, and Joel steps inside, looking for a light switch. Fluorescents buzz in their sockets above the covered truck, and you both tug on a corner of the tarp, revealing the blue-and-white painted Chevy.

Joel pops the hood first, to see what he’s working with, and everything in him deflates when he sees what’s missing. He lets the hood slam shut, braces his hands on top of it. “What is it?” you ask, busying yourself with shoving the tarp into a corner of the garage.

“No fuckin’ battery,” he grits out, and your face pinches.

“There’s gotta be something around here,” you say, walking around the truck. “This thing’s in decent shape, and there’s no way Bill would have left it to us without it—”

His attention is caught over your shoulder, an old fridge pushed against the wall, stacked with bottles of different cleaning solutions. He steps around the truck, around you, and yanks the fridge open. Sure enough, everything he needs to make a battery is inside.

Joel can’t stop himself from smiling. Fuckin’ Bill. Really did think of everything.

You step up behind him, peering over his shoulder and into the fridge. “You know what you’re doing there, baby?”

“I do, actually,” he says, starting to pull the ingredients out of the fridge, a jar of sulphur, the plastic pieces of the battery itself. “Had a friend back in Austin that showed me how to do this.”

It doesn’t take him long. You hover at his shoulder the entire time, watching him work, asking the odd question, your brow furrowing as he connects the battery to the charger. You’re committing the steps to memory, Joel realizes as he finishes up, as you recite everything he just did back to him. He can see it for what it is — a distraction — but he nods along anyway, corrects you when you mix up the second and third steps.

You start over, counting the steps off on your fingers as you try again, and Joel turns to you, takes a step towards you, which has you stepping back once, then again, until your back is pressed to the truck.

“Liv, let me kiss you,” he murmurs, reaching up and bracing his hands on either side of you, fingers curling against the roof of the truck. He has to; he needs to. The desperation bubbles to his surface, lurking just beneath his skin. You’re the only one he can be like this with, the only one who can see through that hard mask he’s been wearing since you left the QZ. His emotions are getting the better of him — grief, pain, desperation, fear. He feels them all.

But he just really wants to feel you.

“Please,” he begs, and a beat later, your fingers hook into his belt loops, tugging him against you, one of your legs sliding between his. He bends his elbows, hearing the truck creak slightly as he pushes his weight against it, against you.

Slowly, your chin lifts, drops. A nod. Yes.

Your lips taste like salt. It makes him groan. Tilting his head to the side so he can kiss you deeper, one hand coming off the truck to bury in your hair, fingers twining in the strands. He feels you melt, slightly, a chip in the shell that has formed around you in your grief.

He feels the same, feels like everything that’s wrong, everything that makes him hurt, is gone, the moment his lips find yours. It feels heightened, the weight of the last few days nearly making his knees buckle, the loss of Tess, the revelation of Bill and Frank. It feels like too much, but for just a moment, he can forget.

You moan when he flicks his tongue against the seam of your lips, asking. Your hands move up, unhooked from his belt to slide beneath his shirt, the flannel bunching over your wrists as you slide your palms over his stomach, glancing across the scar on his hip. Your fingers flatten against his ribs, and he tugs on your hair lightly, tilting your head back, groaning when you sink your teeth into his lower lip.

Joel pushes forward again, until his hips are nearly flush with yours. Your thigh tightens between his legs, rubbing against the seam of his jeans, and the feeling makes him choke, mouth tilted away from yours as his breath hitches, suddenly feeling like a touch-starved teenager. “Joel,” you whisper, one hand skirting around to rest against his spine, the other moving down to his belt buckle. Your fingers curl behind the metal, knuckles scraping his lower stomach. “We should—”

He cuts you off with another kiss, wanting to taste you more, lick the salt from your lips. You let him, tugging on his belt, moaning when he drops his hand from your hair and lets it rest at the base of your throat. Joel drags his mouth along your jaw, nipping at the space below your ear, where your skin is thin, and he can feel the thump of your heartbeat against his lips.

“Joel,” you grit out, leaning your head back until it’s resting against the truck. It gives him better access to your neck, lets him lick a strip up your throat. “The kid—”

“—can’t hear us,” he finishes for you, the words mumbled into your skin. “I wanna—”

“We’ve been out here a while,” you cut him off, and Joel sighs, moving his hand from your collar, replacing it with his forehead. He braces his hands on the truck again, but you give yourself away, pushing your thigh slightly against the bulge in his jeans once more. “She’s gonna think we ditched her.”

“She can wait one more minute.”

“Joel.”

He sighs, but relents, leaving one last kiss on your lips before he tugs on your hand and pulls you out of the garage and back towards the house.

You find Ellie in the same place you’d left her, sitting in the chair at the dining room table. When you and Joel step through the doorway, her head shoots up, dark eyes moving between you both.

You’d nearly frozen on the porch, the weight resettling. Joel had done his best to chase it away — in fact, your lips still tingled with his efforts, a shot of heat between your legs you’re doing your best to ignore for the time being — but the moment you stepped through the front door, it had spiked again. The plates at the end of the table, the empty wine glasses, they didn’t help matters.

“Is everything okay?” Ellie asks, her voice low as she gets to her feet. “Do you have a plan?”

“Joel just made a battery for the truck Bill left,” you answer. “It’s charging right now.”

“Okay.”

“I have a brother out in Wyoming,” Joel says, and you glance at him, squeeze your fingers around his. “He’s in some kind of trouble and we’re heading out there to find him. He used to be a Firefly, and my guess is, he knows where some of ‘em are out there. Maybe they can get you to wherever this lab is.”

“All right,” Ellie nods, her eyes still darting between you and Joel. Then they drop to her hands. “Listen, you guys, about Tess, and Bill and Fr—”

You lift your hand, cutting her off. “I need you to listen to me, Ellie. If we’re taking you with us, there are ground rules.”

“Okay.”

“Number one, you don’t talk about what happened to Tess. We don’t talk about what happened to Tess. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Two, you don’t tell anyone about what happened to you. If anyone sees that bite mark, they’re not gonna think twice. They’ll just shoot you, and there won’t be a damn thing either of us can do to stop it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And three, if Joel or I tell you do to something, you do it. No questions asked. You do what we say, when we say it. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

“Repeat it.”

“What you say goes.”

Joel’s fingers twitch against yours, and you share a look, something in you deflating as you sigh. “Okay,” he murmurs, nodding to you.

“So, what now?” Ellie asks.

“We stock up,” you say, repeating what Joel had said to you earlier. You glance at him. “How long will the battery take?”

“Couple hours,” he replies, and lifts his hand, moving it to the back of your neck. “Enough time to rest for a bit. Find some food maybe. I wanna know what’s in that bunker.”

“You and me both.”

It was the one place Bill never let you see. It was his boundary, and you respected it. But you couldn’t lie; the curiosity was getting the better of you. The three of you make your way down to the basement, Joel pulling up the set of drawers that makes up most of the ladder. There’s a grate over the opening, a keypad embedded into the floor, and Joel crouches down, enters the code. It slides open a second later, and he heads down first, you following, Ellie after you.

“Ho-ly shit,” the kid mutters, as Joel flicks on the lights, illuminating the wall of guns, the shelves of first aid and cans of food. She bee-lines for the weapons, and you move towards the stack of security screens, the computer that played your coded songs over the radio. “This guy was a genius.”

“That he was, kid,” you agree, tapping at the keyboard. Joel moves behind you, puts a soft hand on your back. “That he was.”

“Why was the music on?”

“If Bill didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks, then this playlist would run over the radio and we’d hear it back in Boston.”

Ellie leans over the desk, peering at the screen. “Eighties.”

You tilt your head to the side. How does she know what the code was? You turn to Joel, who just grits his teeth, pointing toward the shelves lined with food at the back of the bunker. “Grab some cans from over there,” he tells her. “Nothin’ dented or swollen.”

She nods, going to do as he asks, but pauses at the wall of guns again. “Can I—?”

“No,” Joel says instantly. Ellie’s eyes slide to you for a second, but you say nothing.

“There’s a wall of them.”

Joel glares at her, and puts her hands up in surrender. As soon as she’s across the room, you turn to him. “How did she know about the code?”

“Back in Boston,” he tells you, a slight flare in his cheeks. “She found the songbook, asked me what the code was, what eighties meant. I didn’t wanna tell her, but she figured it out on her own. Said she heard a fuckin’ Wham! song while I was asleep. I panicked.”

You can’t help your grin. “Smart kid.”

The rest of the afternoon finds you searching the house. You steer clear of the closed bedroom at the end of the hall, and Ellie follows you around like a puppy, letting you take the lead as you look through cupboards and closets.

Rolls of toilet paper, cans of soup and veggies and the like, paper towels, first aid supplies, camping gear. You stack everything near the front door, piling it into bags Joel finds in the garage.

Bill must have emptied out the boutique since you were last here, because Joel unearths boxes of clothes in one of the upstairs closets, finding a few boxes filled with ammunition in the process. You and Ellie pick through them while Joel goes hunting for more bullets, pulling out t-shirts and sweaters. You both reach for the same red t-shirt and Ellie freezes, her brows shooting into her hair. You concede, pushing the shirt towards her. “You take it, kid.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles, staring down at the fabric. “Liv, can I ask you something? It’s not about Tess, I promise.”

You reach for another shirt, inspecting it for a second before tossing it aside. Not your size, or your style. “Shoot.”

“How did you find Bill and Frank?”

The question settles over you like a blanket. It’s a harmless question, warranted even, and you can’t fault Ellie for her curiosity, especially after your reaction to their letters. She’s owed some answers.

But your moment of hesitation must show on your face, because she’s instantly backtracking. “I-I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me. I’m just—”

“No, it’s okay, kid,” you say, picking up a patterned fleece sweater. “Really.” She actually smiles, and you return it. “You ever heard of Fleetwood Mac?”

You tell her the whole story, how you found Frank on the radio, your first meeting, the trading you kept up over the years.

The friendship you held so close to your heart.

“Were you always a smuggler?” she asks, having taken a seat at the edge of the bed. You moved on to another box, men’s clothes, trying to find something for Joel.

“Pretty much,” you answer, pulling out a green plaid shirt that looks oddly familiar. “Well, I wasn’t before the outbreak, but after everything went to shit, it was kind of my only option.”

“What about before the outbreak?”

“I worked in an office. Sat at a desk all day, it was kinda boring, to be honest.”

“Is that where you met Joel?” You shoot her a look, your brow raising slowly. She’s full-on grinning now. “You said it was a long story, and you said I could ask you something.”

“You already asked me something. Many somethings.”

“C’mon,” she groans, flopping back on the bed. “Please?”

You blow out a breath. “Fine. Joel and I met…” You trail off, squinting. “Twenty-two years ago, in a hardware store in Austin.”

“A hardware store?”

You nod, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the memory. “My grandparents owned one in Texas, and when they died, my parents took over. I had just finished college, and I was home for the summer, so I helped my dad out around the store. Joel came in one day and that was how we met.”

“And you’ve been together ever since.”

Your head drops, eyes downcast. “Not exactly.”

Ellie rolls onto her stomach, ducking her head so she can catch your eye. “Would you just tell me already?”

“The office job was in Boston,” you tell her, and her face pinches with confusion. “I left at the end of the summer, and we tried to make it work, but the distance sucked.”

She’s got her fingers locked together, bouncing her knuckles off her lip. “So you broke up.”

“We did,” you say with a nod, finding another shirt for Joel, a blue button-up not unlike the one he’s currently wearing, just a few shades darker. “I’d been in Boston just over two years when the outbreak happened. Dean attacked me, like I told you, and he was the first Infected I killed. Then the bombings. Then FEDRA started rounding up any survivors they could find, and we were holed up in the mall for a while, but then people started turning, so they moved us.” You sigh, flipping the box closed. “Next thing we knew, the QZ walls were up, and FEDRA took over.”

“But, Joel…?” She trails off, her confusion deeper.

The corner of your mouth quirks. “Five years after the walls went up, Joel’s brother showed up. They’d been travelling the entire time, stayed in the QZ in Baltimore for a few years before they got kicked out.”

“They got kicked out?”

“Tess got—” You cut yourself off, drop your eyes again. “They got caught smuggling in Baltimore, and FEDRA wasn’t having it. I snuck them in, and the rest is history.”

“Wait, okay, so,” Ellie starts, counting off the years on your fingers. “You’ve known each other for twenty-two years, the outbreak happened twenty years ago, but you didn’t see him again until five years after that, and you’ve been married for thirteen and—” She groans, putting her face in her hands. “That’s too much math.”

You giggle, tossing the red t-shirt she’d left between you at her. “We’ve been together a long fucking time, we can just leave it there.”

Ellie catches the shirt, sitting up, rubbing her fingers over the logo imprinted on the fabric. “So you got married in the QZ?”

“Yeah,” you nod, reaching for the fleece sweater you’d pulled out for yourself. The memory sparks. “But then Bill and Frank threw us a wedding here, actually.” Tears crawl up the back of your throat. “Surprised me with it, Joel planned the whole thing.”

“Joel did?” she repeats, surprised, her brows raising again. “No offence, he’s just kind of a grump.”

You bark a laugh, the tears receding slightly. “Time will do that to you, kid.”

She’s quiet for a moment before she reaches between you and grabs your hand. Her palm is clammy. “I’m sorry, Liv. About Bill and Frank. They sound like they were really great friends.”

You swallow hard, squeezing her hand, nodding. “Thank you, Ellie. They were.”

“Needs another hour,” Joel informs you, checking the dial on the charger.

You’ve all moved to the garage, combing through Bill’s impressive collection of camping supplies. The bed of the truck is already half-full, and Joel’s helping you load a camping stove into the backseat when Ellie excitedly declares, having turned the work sink on, “They have hot water!”

You shut the truck door, your hand grazing Joel’s back as you step around him. “We’ve got time for showers.”

“Can I go first?” Ellie asks, her question directed at you, nearly bouncing on her heels. “Please?”

“Go on,” you tell her, jutting your chin toward the door. “Just don’t be too long.”

The kid grins broadly before disappearing out the side door of the garage. After packing a few more necessities into the truck, Joel checks the battery once more before following you back into the house. You lead him upstairs, into the guest room you’d stayed in when you’d come to Lincoln in the past. There are shirts laid out on the bed, a pair of jeans that look about his size, and toiletries. A bottle of soap, toothbrushes, a tube of toothpaste, even floss. Joel can’t remember the last time he saw dental floss.

Ellie had gone in the shower in the master bedroom, and distantly, the pipes rumble as the water shuts off. “Go get in,” you tell him, jutting your chin towards the bathroom off the guest room. “I’ll go make sure she’s okay.”

Before he can get a word out, you’re gone, disappearing across the hall, and Joel turns on his heel, heading for the bathroom. Much like the rest of the house, every surface is covered in a thin layer of dust, and he cranks the shower on, but lets the water run for a while, cleaning the film from the bathtub, letting steam fill the room as he wipes down the counter with the sleeve of his shirt. It’s already dirty, anyway. The mirror fogs at the edges, and Joel finds himself face-to-face with his reflection as he strips down.

His belt goes first, the leather curling off the edge of the countertop, the buckle thunking to the surface with a metallic clang. He lets his jeans hang open, sliding slightly off his hips as he undoes the buttons on his shirt. As he reaches the last one, you reappear in the doorway, your face neutral until his shirt hangs loose, and Joel sees your bottom lip slip between your teeth.

“I thought you’d be in already,” you say, your eyes raking over him before they meet his in the mirror. “Hot water and all.”

The apartment had running water, back in the QZ. Most of the time, anyway. But hot water? Not unless you were wasting generator power heating it on the stove and dumping it into the tub. This is a luxury no matter how you look at it. “Waitin’ for you.”

For a moment, Joel wonders if you’ll protest, if the kiss you shared in the garage, heated as it was, was all you would allow. He’d drop it if you did, would respect the boundary and step back from your line in the sand. He’s about to say as much when you step through the door, pushing it closed behind you and flicking the lock shut. Your eyes find his in the mirror again, and he watches you step closer to him, his back still to you.

Your hands reach up, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, and you pull it back. Joel relaxes his arms, letting you peel it down, keeping it bunched at his wrists, a makeshift restraint.

“Baby,” he murmurs, turning his head to look at you when you lean up and press your lips to his spine. It makes a shudder run through him, and you move even closer, until he can curl his hands around your hips. Your own slide against his ribs, one moving up to rest right over his heart, which thumps wildly beneath your touch as the other hand roves lower, nails dragging as you slide beneath the elastic of his boxers.

You graze the base of his cock, and he can’t hold back the moan that slips out of him. You bite at the muscle of his shoulder, hard enough to make him jump, and your hand closes around him. “We have to be quiet, Joel,” you murmur. There’s a glint in your eye as he stares back at you, your eyes just visible over the slope of his shoulder.

He moves quickly, taking you by surprise. Joel pulls his hands free, his shirt falling to the ground, and he spins, turning so your hand stays where it is in his pants, catching the other with his own. He walks you backward, until your back hits the wall, and pins your hand over your head, his other fingers on your jaw. The kiss you share is rough, rougher than the one in the garage, a mess of teeth and tongue. His jeans slip down his hips, and you release him long enough to shove his boxers down, cock springing fee, curving up towards his stomach.

You pull your mouth from his just long enough to lick a stripe up your palm, and your hand closes around him again a moment later, slick with your spit, the way you twist your wrist making his eyes roll back in his skull. He releases your pinned hand, feeling it curl into his hair as he busies himself with the buttons on your shirt, the button on your jeans.

He’s panting into your mouth by the time he’s got your pants around your ankles. “Gonna fuck you in the shower,” he grits out, his forehead pressed to yours. He’s not gonna last. “Gotta do somethin’ first.”

“What—?” you start, but the question dies in your throat as he pulls your hand from his cock, dropping to his knees on the tile before you. He lifts your legs one at a time, tugging the jeans from where they’re caught around your feet, your underwear going with it.

Joel curls his hand around your knee, lifts it up and over, effectively spreading your legs as you’re pressed to the wall. He keeps your thigh in place, and presses his face against it, sucking a bruise into the sensitive flesh. You hiss above him, one hand locked in his hair, your face tilted to the ceiling.

As long as he lives, Joel will never get over the taste of you. He has you committed to memory, by now, knows exactly where to lick, where to suck, when to give you just that slight edge of teeth. He knows how to make you cum, and make you cum hard. But the moment his tongue touches you, it’s like the first time, every time, his tastebuds exploding with your unique flavour.

“Shh, baby,” he whispers into the crease of your thigh when you let out a little whimper, your hips canting towards his mouth. “Gotta be quiet.”

He drinks his fill of you. He chases away every rogue thought in his head — in both your heads — with his tongue, flicks at that little bundle of nerves until your thighs are quaking in his grip.

“Joel,” you gasp out, tugging on his hair slightly. “The water.”

“Right,” he grunts against you, knowing full well that the vibration of his voice sends a zap through you. “Tell me what you want, baby. You wanna cum on my tongue right now, or on my cock in the shower?”

“Shower,” you reply, your chest heaving with breaths. Joel grins, giving you one last lick before he’s moving back up your body, setting your shaky leg back down on the ground. He lets his mouth roam on the way up, nipping at your stomach, your chest, all the way back up to your lips.

The rest of your clothes go quickly, and he holds back the curtain for you to step under the spray. The moan you let out when the hot water hits your skin is nothing short of euphoric, and Joel’s cock twitches at the sound. He’s quick to follow, tugging the curtain back across the rain once you’re both inside. You’re standing directly under the spray, letting the water cascade over you, soaking your hair to your scalp, running in rivulets down your body.

Joel reaches for you, the warmth coating his hands first, moving up his arms as you curl your fingers above his elbows, pulling him forward to share the spray with him. He groans too, when the water hits him, and it’s coupled with a roll of your hips against his, your wet mouth seeking his beneath the water.

Your kisses are sloppy now, both of you growing languid with the heat beating down on you, hitting sore muscles and aching joints in just the right way. You slide your hand down his front, curling your fingers around his cock again, and Joel’s spine prickles. He lets you stroke him once, twice, before he’s grabbing your shoulders and turning you. Slowly, he bends you forward slightly, until your hands are pressed to the tile in front of you, your back arched and your ass pressed against his crotch.

“There she is,” he murmurs, skimming his palm up your spine, until he can lock his hand in your soaked hair. He rolls his hips now, his other hand curled around your hip, and he slides your feet apart with his, his eyes drawn down to the curve of your ass. He releases your hip to take himself in hand, and draws his hips back, angling just right, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance before he’s slamming forward, filling you to the hilt in one fell swoop.

Your hand smacks against the tile loudly, your voice punched from your lungs, and you go so tight around him for a moment, Joel thinks your cumming already. But then your head turns in his grip, your eyes nailing him in place.

“More.”

He’s never been one to deny you, and now is no exception. The ache in his bones is forgotten, the only thing he can think about right now is the feel of you around him, the way you arch up, your back pressed to his front, one hand reaching back to tangle in his hair. His hands are everywhere, mapping you out, squeezing every bit of flesh he can get his hands on. And all the while, he drives himself into you, deeper and deeper, turning your head with his grip on your hair and claiming your mouth for his own.

You curl your fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand down between your legs. He finds your clit easily, groaning when he feels how hot and wet you are, not just from the water. You whine as he pinches the bud between his fingers, drawing a tight circle that makes you clench around him.

“C’mon, baby,” he groans into your kiss, nipping at your bottom lip. “I wanna feel it.”

You shudder as you cum, and Joel feels every second of it, his own orgasm not far behind. The water pours over you both, and he just stays where it is, the aftershocks rippling through him, leaving behind that different kind of ache, the good kind.

Sighing, you fit yourself into his arms, angling your bodies so the water doesn’t hit you both in the face. Joel stays buried in you, hips flush with your ass, and you lean your head back on his shoulder, letting him dot kisses along your wet throat.

“Mmm, I needed that,” you murmur, leaning your head against his, rubbing your palms along his arms.

“Me too.” He lets his nose ride the curve of your jaw. “We could stay the night. Sleep in real beds, let me wake you up proper in the morning.” At the mere thought of your spread out on a bed for him, Joel twitches inside you.

But he feels your hesitation, feels it bristle across your skin like goosebumps. “We can’t, Joel. I-I can’t stay here, not knowing that they’re…” You trail off, but Joel nods. You don’t have to say anything more.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, tightening his arms around you.

“I know.”

You spend what remains of the hot water actually getting clean. Joel groans when you lather his hair with shampoo, dragging your nails along his scalp, and he returns the favour. Lavender-scented soap swirls down the drain, and he wants to eat you alive.

Wrapped in towels, standing on the bathmat, Joel knocks his fingers beneath your chin and kisses you soundly. You, the one thing that always manages to keep him grounded, the one constant in this hell you’re traversing.

He can keep going, so long as he has you.

You leave Joel to dress in the bedroom, leaving him with one last kiss, raking your hands through his hair. It’s damp enough that it stays in place, slicked back over his skull, and you grin against his mouth. “Handsome.”

You can hear Ellie moving as you reach the bottom of the stairs, and turn towards the dining room to see her standing at the hutch in the corner of the room. One of the drawers is pulled open, and she has Frank’s gun in her hand. Her eyes are wide, literally like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Liv, I wasn’t—”

“I didn’t see anything, kid,” you say, and turn your back. Once you hear the zipper of her bag, you turn around again, handing her a stick of deodorant. “Here.”

“Nice,” she answers, but you see her eyes go wary. “Liv, the gun—”

“What gun?” you repeat, lifting your brow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ellie.”

She catches on, her face softening, and she stashes the deodorant as well. The stairs creak a moment later, and you turn your head to see Joel walk down, dressed in the green plaid you’d picked out.

“Well, don’t you look pretty,” Ellie comments, offering him a grin.

Joel looks at you, and you don’t miss the way his cheeks pinch with pink. “Shut up.”

You reach for Joel’s hand. “Let’s go.”

The three of you head into the garage, locking the front door from the inside before you head out. You know you don’t need to, but something about it makes you feel better. Ellie follows behind you as you walk around to the passenger’s side of the truck, and you don’t miss the way her eyes light up with curiosity.

Joel slides into the driver’s seat, and you nudge her with your elbow. “You wanna sit in the front?”

Her grin is infectious. “Really?”

You nod. “Go for it.”

You take her coat as she opens the door, leaving you to clamber into the backseat, fitting your bags and jackets between your seat and the stack of cans on the other side of the bench seat. Joel glances over his shoulder at you, a question in his eyes, and you just wave him off, reaching for your seatbelt.

In the front seat, Ellie flips the sun visor down and then back up, leaning forward to inspect it closer. You watch as she reaches out the open window, pushing on the side view mirror until it moves.

“First time in a car?” Joel asks, his voice low.

“It’s like a spaceship,” Ellie replies, and you laugh.

“No, it’s like a piece of shit Chevy S10,” your husband grits, and you lean back in your seat, settling against the headrest, “but it’ll get us there. I think. Seatbelt.”

“Hmm?”

Joel stares at the kid for a moment, his eyes cutting to you before he reaches across, grabbing the belt and pulling it across her. “Seatbelt,” he repeats.

Ellie listens, clicking the belt into place. “So cool.”

It just makes you laugh again.

Joel turns the key in the ignition, and you hold your breath before the engine rumbles to life. You watch him lift his hand, adjusting the rearview mirror, and he meets your eyes through it, something unspoken in them, comforting.

We’re gonna be okay.

He shifts the truck into drive, and slowly, it rolls forward, out of the garage and onto the road ahead. Ellie busies herself with the glove box, rummaging through the collection of tapes inside. “Would ya leave it?” Joel grumbles, glancing at her. She opens one of the cases, shaking the tape between her fingers. “Put it back, Ellie.”

“Joel,” you call softly, reaching out to put your hand on his shoulder. He’s tense, but relaxes a little when you dig your fingers in slightly. Ellie pushes the tape into the slot, and a moment later, a familiar song plays over the radio.

And I think it’s gonna hurt me, for a long, long time.

Ellie reaches for the radio, clearly not a fan, but you reach out, grabbing her arm. “Wait. Leave it.”

“Really?”

“Really,” you repeat. “It’s Linda Ronstadt.”

“You know who Linda Ronstadt is?” Joel asks, and Ellie gives him a withering look.

“You know I don’t know who Linda Ronstadt is.”

Joel turns the truck towards the gate, and as he rolls to a stop, he meets your eyes again in the rearview.

One of the last times you were able to get to Lincoln, after Frank got sick, the pair revealed to you an unofficial anniversary of sorts. “I’ve lost track of the years,” Frank told you, sat on the couch with you, leaned against your shoulder, “but what feels like a lifetime ago, on this day Bill helped me out of that hole, and I never left.”

“Just like that, huh?”

He’d chuckled, weakly pushing at your arm. “Not just like that. He cooked me dinner first, played a song on the piano.”

“What song?”

Frank had called for Bill then, and he’d appeared in the living room a moment later, concern on his face. “What? What is it?”

“Play our song?”

And he had. You had tears in your eyes by the end of it.

And I think I’m gonna miss you, for a long, long time.

Joel reaches for the remote on the dash, keying in the gate code once more. Tears crawl up the back of your throat as the fence slides across, opening for you to drive through. Joel glances over his shoulder at you, and you squeeze his shoulder again. “Eh,” Ellie mumbles, tipping her back against the headrest. “It’s better than nothin’.”

Joel pulls the truck through, and you leave Lincoln behind. You turn, looking through the back window as the gate slides shut again.

And I think I’m gonna love you, for a long, long time.

PREV | NEXT

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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actual-changeling · 1 year

Text

rewatched episode 3 because apparently i love being in emotional pain but just.

imagine frank didn't get sick, tess lived, they got to wyoming and occasionally make the trip to visit bill and frank in a "two weeks with your grandparents" way???

just the thought of ellie, an orphan, getting a whole ass family that actively chose her, chose to love her and care for her, doing everything to make sure she's safe.

frank teaching her how to paint and draw, bill (against joel's explicit rules) showing ellie all kinds of shit about weapons and she leaves with a new gun every time they visit. ellie coming out to them cause she knows they'll 100% be fine with it and feeling comfortable to do so with everyone else, too, cause if they love bill and frank, they'll love her regardless, too.

family dinners and fresh strawberries and paintings of joel, of tess, of ellie, all of them, around the house. the hope that maybe they don't need to save the world. they already have theirs right where they need it.

found family has me by the throat man (it's the severe childhood trauma)

#alex yells at the void #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #joel miller #ellie and joel #bill and frank #tlou ep 3 #tess servopoulos #tess lives #found family

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soulofapatrick · 1 year

Text

Revealing Secrets - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Y/N tells Joel and Ellie the truth about the cure, expecting a hideous fall out but Joel’s response is unexpected

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut (p in v): fingering; lots of fluff; angst with Ellie

NOTES: Part 6 of Let Me Save You

Y/N’S POV

The food court area Maria’s made out of an old barn is warm and full of life, conversations floating around and the sound of laughter making the building brighter. There’s fairy lights strung up in the rafters, acting as lights and they just add to the homey feeling the building gives. Ellie’s sat between me and Joel, eating like she’s never eaten a proper meal which actually… thinking about it she probably hasn’t.

“There’s more if you need it.” Maria speaks up, amusement dancing across her face as she watches Ellie scarf down the food. Joel hasn’t noticed the closeness between her and Tommy, the way they’re sitting angled towards each other and I bet their feet are probably touching under the table.

“Thank you ma’am.” Joel’s tone is polite and nothing like what I’ve heard from him before. He may have used it once or twice when they first visited Bill and Frank but he’s usually a lot more roughly spoken, a scowl usually on his features, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal. This is fucking amazing,” Ellie speaks around a mouthful of potatoes, sending Tommy and Maria a smile. It has me wanting to face palm as she’s so blunt and brash with her words, it’s very Joel-like. Joel’s cheeks heat up with embarrassment, glancing at Ellie with his eyebrows quirked before turning back to Maria and apologising for her. Ellie’s not listening to them, her eyes on a girl watching us from behind one of the wooden pillars. All I can do is watch the way Ellie’s clover eyes narrow, she swallows and is snapping, “What?” The girl’s face falls slack in shock and she’s scurrying out of the barn, daring a quick glance back at us before she’s gone.

“What is wrong with you?” I steel her with a stern look and she just rolls her eyes.

“She was just curious. Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.” Maria explains and Ellie’s nodding then snapping that she wants her gun back but Maria seems unfazed by her attitude, “They also aren’t armed.” Ellie just glares back at Maria, Joel catching my gaze over the kids head and I just shrug lightly as there’s nothing I can do to make Ellie behave. His eyes flick down to my lips before he’s turning back around.

“You know what? I think maybe ya’ll got a little off on the wrong foot.” Tommy’s shifting in his seat,“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place. But it’s all bark. We’re just trying to scare off those who might wanna try us is all.” He’s trying to keep the peace but it doesn’t work because Ellie is quick with a retort that has me smacking her shoulder.

“Well you got a couple of ninety-year-olds who shitting themselves out there. They say that you leave dead bodies around?” She snaps back, stabbing the last bits of food on her plate before glancing up at me, as if to gauge my reaction and see if she went too far. She did go to far and I should be telling her off for it except I’m also curious about what they say in return to it.

Maria replies, “Those are the people who tried us.” And Tommy is quick to add, “A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad.” He seems to be the peace keeper of the two but my blood boils in my veins when Maria turns her attention to Joel, a look I know so well on her face. It’s not quite hatred but it’s the look most get when they hear about everything Joel’s had to do to survive the last 20 years. It makes me so fucking mad because it’s not like others haven’t done worse and Joel… he did a lot of it to protect me and Tess from others like Robert and the FEDRA soldiers who found amusement in raping and murdering anyone they could, the power going to their heads.

“Not always, at least.” Maria says, voice full of ice and my chair is scraping across the ground as I jump up, wanting to defend Joel but said man grabs my arm. His honey eyes full of guilt and pain but he’s shaking his head lightly, those eyes flickering down to where my pocketknife is in my hand. Oh. I slowly sit back down, still glaring at Maria and beginning to dislike her for her judgemental nature. I know you have to be ruthless in a world like this but she has no right to call Joel a bad person.

“Ma’am… we’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.” Joel’s voice is tight and his hand in mine behind Ellie’s chair tightens when Tommy takes Maria’s hand in his and tells Joel that Maria is family. I get it. Tommy went off the radio months ago, for us to find him with a wife and a life while Joel dragged himself across the country to find him and make sure he was safe. I rub my thumb across his knuckles as he stays there, stuck staring at their intertwined hands while Ellie sends them her congrats. The smile slipping off her face when she glances between me and Joel, noticing how angry we both her. I heard Tommy on the radio with Joel for months then he stopped responding to Joel’s prompts and I watched Joel tear himself apart, getting into fights and doing stupidly ridiculously smuggle runs despite my pleas for him to be careful. Tess and I could only sit back and watch, patching him up when he came home battered and broken. He broke down one night after coming back from a fight, head on my shoulder as I carded my fingers through those salt and pepper locks, his shoulders shaking and Tommy’s name falling from his lips in a broken sob. I want to punch Tommy there and then but we need a place to stay for the night and here is the best place,

“How ‘bout a tour.” Tommy stands up and I do the same, drawing Joel up with me. He keeps his hand in mine, pulling close to his side as Ellie and Maria follow us behind Tommy. The town is beautiful, especially decorated for Christmas. Joel’s tensing up at the sight of the giant Christmas tree in the town centre so I just squeeze his hand tighter, trying to ground him to the present before he goes down a downward spiral of Sarah. Tommy doesn’t seem to notice or if he does he ignores it, “I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub MOA. Can headshot any infected from half a mile out.”

“Can you teach me how?” Ellie grins at him.

“No he cannot.” I interject before Tommy can reply and Tommy just sends her a sheepish shrug while Maria points to different buildings and explains what they are. There’s so much here for seven years worth of work: schools; places of worship; laundry; jail and they have hot water and electricity which I’m guessing is from the dam which is why they cornered us when we got too close to their source of all power. There’s a farm of sheep which has Ellie bounding ahead excitedly, making sheep sounds and giggling to herself.

“Everything you see in our town… greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership,” Maria tells us as we watch Ellie sprint over to the stables, eyes lighting up as she has always had a love of horses.

“So communism?” Joel finally speaks, glancing at Tommy with a satisfied smirk when he tries to explain it’s not communism but Maria cuts him off and says that it is communism. I have to bury my face in Joel’s shoulder to stifle my laugh as Joel had told me ages ago that Tommy was once in the military… fighting against communism. Seems Tommy has an awakening then as he just stares at us as Joel leads me after Ellie with a smirk gracing his face. I watch as Ellie pets the foal, cooing at the tiny animal and feeding it hay that’s fallen from the stable.

“Well I’ll take Y/N and Ellie to the house if you two wanna catch up.” Maria speaks and Ellie spins around, panic on her face at Joel telling Maria and Tommy that I stay with him. Ellie whispers our names but I tell her she’ll be okay and it seems to be enough as she nods once and doesn’t protest when Tommy leads me and Joel away.

“Joel. I need to talk to you about Ellie.” I say when we’re sat at the bar, a whiskey in the Miller brothers hands while I opted for something no alcoholic. Joel asked me if he could tell Tommy about Ellie and I agreed but he needs to know Ellie can’t go to the fireflies. He needs to know they plan on killing her to try and make a vaccine despite people even before the outbreak of the cordyceps saying a vaccine isn’t possible.

“So the kid?” Tommy asks, glancing between us and I just nudge Joel slightly.

“She’s immune.” Tommy straightens up, probably about to tell us that’s not a funny joke but Joel continues, “I saw her get bit and she didn’t get sick. We’re taking her to the Fireflies,” Something crosses Tommy’s face at that, having been part of the fireflies not too long ago. Oh. He must have heard the rumours, “They think she’s the answer to a cure.”

“She’s not.” My mouth feels dry as I speak before Tommy can respond to Joel and both of them are turning to me. I have to down my drink to even be able to try and speak again, confusion on Joel’s face, “I’ve seen the interviews from before the outbreak. A cure is not possible. The fireflies are too stubborn to understand this and if they were to try and take the mutation from Ellie…” I’m trailing off, rubbing the back of my neck and not meeting either of their eyes.

“Ellie has to die?” Joel’s voice is strained and I nod, feeling a lump swelling in my throat and my vision is blurring slightly, “How long has you known?”

“W-when we left.” My voice is barely a whisper and I expect the shattering of the glass from Joel. He’d be throwing the glass if we were back in the QZ, yelling about how I could be so stupid, letting me put us in so much danger and keeping such vital information from him but nothing like that happens. A gruff sigh is exhaled before the glass hits the table with force but then hands are yanking me from my stool and into his broad chest. Joel’s strong arms wrap around me and I slide my hands under the back of his shirt, burying my face in his chest and just breathing in everything Joel. The comforting smell of burnt coffee; woodsy musk and something citrusy has me dizzy with safety and want and… love? The soft press of his lips against my forehead has me whimpering out a soft, “Are you mad?”

“No, I just wish you had trusted me enough to tell me earlier,” He murmurs, no anger in his voice at all and his lips are ghosting over my forehead, “You mean everything to me, you can trust me.”

“I do trust you,” I pull back enough to see his face, features soft and open, leaning into my touch when I brush my knuckles over his cheek, honey eyes fluttering shut before I remember Tommy’s still here. He’s moved away from us to give us privacy but I can feel him watching, catching the smile as he cleans glasses, “I’ll leave you two to catch up. I should check and see if Ellie and Maria are being civil.”

“Yeah that’s a good idea.” He hums in agreement, sending a quick glance at Tommy who has his back to us suddenly and it’s enough for Joel to surge down, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. It draws a shocked gasp from me, not expecting the urgency, “I’ll find you.”

“I’ll talk to Ellie.”

“WHAT?! YOU KNEW?!” Ellie screams, tears glazing her clover eyes as she stands opposite me, chest heaving with anger.

“Ellie…” I reach for her but stop halfway, not wanting to push her, “I can’t watch you die.”

“That’s not your choice to make.”

“There’s proof a cure can’t be made Ellie!” I can’t keep my voice steady, hearing the door open and close below us, “I’m not going to let you die for nothing!”

“There’s proof?” She calms down a little.

“Yes. I asked Maria if she could find the tapes. Go find Maria. If you still want to go after… fine, we’ll take you but if not… there’s a place here for us.” I sigh and she nods once, shouldering past me and down the stairs, the front door slamming shut behind her and I just let my knees go. I’m crying, everything from the last few months crashing down on me like a tonne of bricks. Tess’ death, saying goodbye to Bill and Frank, watching Sam and Henry die and now this… Ellie walking away from me with anger and hatred.

“Hey, there you are sweet girl.” Joel’s surrounding me, arms around me and he’s pulling me into his chest. He doesn’t speak, just holds me and lets me cry, hands carding through my hair and lips ghosting over my cheek as I let everything out. The ache in my chest loosening with each passing second until I’m just curled in his lap, head on his shoulder and his lips peppering sweet kisses across my face before he’s kissing me properly. Lips meeting like old friends, soft and delicate, his large hands gripping my hips strong and tight as I’ll slip away, “Come on, they have hot water.”

I just let him guide me to my feet, leading me from Ellie’s room and down the corridor to the bathroom where towels, clothes and other necessities are ready waiting as if Joel knew it’s what I would need. He probably heard us yelling, knowing Ellie wouldn’t go quietly with the information and he was right. I watch as Joel turns the shower on before coming back to me, his fingertip ghosting down my sides until they’re fiddling with the hem of my shirt, honey eyes searching for consent which of course I’m going to give him. He’s slow and gentle with his movements, pulling the shirt over my head and making sure it doesn’t catch on my hair before hands move to my jeans. His eyes stay on mine the whole time he’s sliding them down my legs, taking my underwear with them so I’m just stood in front of him in my bra. His next moves surprise me, he’s pulling his shirt over his own head and shimmying his jeans down his thick thighs. His boxers slide down next, the air stolen from my lips as he’s huge and he’s not even erect. It has my thighs trembling slightly, trying hard to not imagining how he’d practically split me apart and how he seems the type to praise-

The rough pads of his fingers are fiddling with the clasp of my bra and I’m shivering when it falls to the floor, Joel’s hands in mine as he leads me into the shower. It’s sweet and soft, making sure the water isn’t too hot and that I’m comfortable with this. He doesn’t speak but shows me how much I truly mean to him with every gentle brush of the wash cloth against my skin or way he massages my scalp when washing my hair. Every brush elites a fire in my gut and I’m wanting him but I don’t want to misread anything and push him away so I take the first risk, leaning back against his chest. His arms instinctively wrap around my waist, lips on my shoulder and my hand is coming back to tangle in his hair and it’s like he understands what I want. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin on my neck, just below my jaw, while his right hand slides lower, fingers brushing over my clit. The hand in his hair tightening and a chuckles rumbles in his chest as he continues, sliding two fingers along my wet folds until he’s plunging one into my aching heat. A mewl is ripped from my throat, my back arching down into the intrusion and I’m guiding him into a messy kiss as he begins to move. It’s hot and passionate and everything I’ve always wanted in Joel, his teeth catching my bottom lip between his teeth when he adds a second finger and my thighs are trembling, the feeling of bliss coming closer and closer.

“I’ve got you sweet girl,” He murmurs against my cheek, nose brushing lightly over it as his fingers curl one final time, “That’s it, come on, let go.” I’m crying his name, pressing my ass against his twitching erection as I roll my hips down onto his fingers, my mind whiting out as it washes through me, “That’s it baby girl, I’m so proud of you.” He coos as my legs give way, his from grip on my waist holding me up as he pulls his fingers out. I think my eyes roll back into my head when he brings them up to his own lips and sucking them clean, honey eyes on me the whole time.

“J-Joel,” My voice is shaky, “Joel, I need you.”

“Fuck.” He groans into my neck before stepping away from me. He’s turning the shower off and leading me out, grabbing one of the towels and taking his time to dry me. He trails kisses after the towel, eyes darkening with want and love as I can’t keep the small sounds to myself. He haphazardly dries himself off before he’s gripping my hand and we’re practically stumbling into the bedroom opposite the bathroom.

I’m laying back on the bed, Joel climbing over me, glancing up at me as the swollen and weeping head brushes over my folds. He’s asking for permission even after I just told him I need him. Fuck, I love this man so fucking much. I’m wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him inside and it tears a sound from me as he’s so big. It’s a beautiful pain, Joel drawing me into a kiss and my hands tugging at his salt and pepper locks while he wraps me up in his strong and safe arms. Joel had always seemed the type to have sex, not make love but the way he’s taking his time drawing long and deep strokes with his hips, the head catching that sweet spot with every in thrust has me realising otherwise. It’s slow and full of love, as if he’s trying to show me how much I mean to him and it just adds to everything.

“Joel,” His name is dragged from my lips when he sits back on his heels, arms wrapping around my thighs and pulling himself deeper and closer than I imagined possible, tip brushing my cervix as his thrusts are becoming erratic and he’s getting closer and closer, dragging me with him, my walls fluttering around him with every drag. It’s hot and that building of pleasure is right there, a hand finding Joel’s around my thighs as the other grips the sheets when he brings his other hand to rub circles into my clit. That’s all it takes for me to come, my back arching into him and walls clamping, trying to keep him pressed up against that sweet spot and he’s not far behind. A guttural moan ripped from him as he lurches forwards, capturing me into a kiss as he fills me up both of us laying there, panting and trying to regain some form of normalcy.

“You mean everything to me.” He’s murmuring, pulling out and flopping next to me, head turning to me. His honey eyes are full of sincerity, hair fluffed and messy against his forehead, softness taking years from his weather worn skin and all I can feel is one word… Love.

“I love you Joel.” It comes tumbling out before I can stop it and he stops. It’s a minute before he’s turning onto his side to face me properly, hand cupping my cheek and thumb rubbing over my cheekbone, eyes soft and they’re slightly glazed as if he’s going to cry.

“I’m not good for much you know,” He moves his thumb to my lips when go to retort that he is good, “But I want you love you and take care of you if you’ll let me. Ellie too.”

“I would love that.”

“I love you.”

---------

Chapter One ⇢ Save Who You Can Save

Chapter Two ⇢ Stitches

Chapter Three ⇢ Keep You Safe

Chapter Four ⇢ Escape Kansas City

Chapter Five ⇢ Finding Tommy

Chapter Six ⇢

Chapter Seven ⇢ Crossed Paths

Chapter Eight ⇢ Finding Family

Chapter Nine ⇢ Two Become One

Chapter Ten ⇢ Coming Soon

------------

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elliespuns · 4 months

Note

Now out of curiosity, were there any aspects of the show you didn’t enjoy?

What I didn't enjoy was how they portrayed Bill and Frank's story.

Before I start, let me just mention that I am judging just the plot side of this episode. This has nothing to do with portraying love for two gay men.

Bill is awesome in the game. I love that dude. A part of what makes him so great is that he's an asshole. He's not like this in the show, and it's mainly because we didn't get to see him with Ellie, which is one of the most enjoyable things in the game. Not only didn't they make the two of them meet, but they did also involve Frank, who, in the game, has already been dead at the time Bill meets Joel and Ellie. I loved how subtle it was to find out that Bill had a "partner", where the game let you ponder it like, "Wait, is he... is he gay?". They just ruined the whole concept of the original Bill for me. I really didn't care that much about his relationship with Frank, which wasn't even supposed to be the main focus of this part of the game anyway. There was something special about the whole Bill's Town chapter; and Ellie having beef with him was my absolute favorite part. So, I am not a fan of this. I think it was unnecessary to do this with this character, be it in a show like TLOU.

Another thing that I didn't enjoy was the way Ellie saved Joel in Pittsburgh. I was missing the real feeling. Not to mention that the point of her saving him has been ruined since we saw her finding the gun earlier, knowing she already had it on her. In the original, Ellie appears out of the blue, grabs the gun that Joel has been trying to reach as he fights for his life, and shoots the guy in the face.

Also, instead of getting a scene where Ellie almost drowns and Joel is trying to save her even with a gun pointed at his head, we just get a few seconds of guards teargassing them? Ugh, that was a shame.

#the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #ellie and joel #the last of us game #tlou game #bill tlou #bill and frank #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #elliespuns answers

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morallyinept · 3 months

Text

A full transcribe of JOEL MILLER'S dialogue/lines from the TV show THE LAST OF US.

EPISODE 3 - FOR A LONG, LONG TIME

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

I don’t want your sorrys-

Five hour hike.

__________________

Not often, no.

People.

Frank is.

I didn’t fall down any stairs.

Someone shot at me and missed.

Yeah.

No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think.

In general.

No.

Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.

You ask a lot of Goddamn questions.

__________________

We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am 'cause-

No. I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.

Trust me, it’s all been picked over already.

Just you.

Fuck.

__________________

Ellie? Ellie!

Ellie?

There’s not much ammo out there for this thing. Makes it mostly useless.

No.

__________________

A few times, sure.

Didn’t feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich.

Yeah, well. So did they.

Pretty much.

It wasn’t a monkey. I thought you went to school.

No-one knows for sure, but… best guess… Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, across the world. Bread, cereal… pancake mix. You eat enough of it, it’ll get ya infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time Thursday. People brought it, ate some Thursday night, or Friday mornin'. Day goes on… they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse. Then they started bitin’. Friday night, September 26, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone.

Sure.

We’ll cut across the woods here.

Yeah, it’s just… There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see.

I don’t want you to.

I’m serious. Ellie.

No.

About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers… went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were… if there was room. If there wasn’t…

No, probably not.

Dead people can’t be infected.

__________________

I’m the same way.

I understand. If my, uh… if mine… brought strangers into our situation, I wouldn’t be happy either. But of all the people he could’ve found on the radio, we’re actually decent people just tryin’ to get by.

There’s stuff we have in the QZ that you don’t have here. Book, medicine, machine parts. We can help each other and get that gun outta my face.

So, what, you were a… prepper or somethin’?

That fence has got a year on it, tops. Galvanised wire already started to corrode. I can get you ten spools of high-tensile aluminium. Last you the rest of your life. Lives.

FEDRA’s never gonna come up here. And you’re well protected against stray infected. But sooner or later, they’ll be raiders. And they’ll beat that fence and your trip wires. They’ll come at night, quiet and armed.

__________________

You stay there.

Bill? Frank?

You stay there. You hear anything, you see anything… yell.

__________________

Ellie?

So they’re dead?

Go ahead. You do it.

Stay here.

__________________

Show me your arm.

I just finished making a truck battery, it's charging right now.

And I have a brother out in Wyoming. He’s in some kind of trouble and I’m heading out there to find him. He used to be a Firefly. My guess is he knows where some of them are out there. Maybe they can get you to wherever this lab is.

If I’m takin’ you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves. Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your… condition. They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three, you do what I say when I say it. We clear?

Repeat it.

Okay.

We grab what we can.

__________________

If he didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks, this playlist would run over the radio.

Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.

No.

Needs another hour.

__________________

Shut up.

__________________

It’s your first time in a car?

No, it’s a piece-of-shit Chevy S-10, but it’ll get us there. I think. Seatbelt. Seatbelt.

Would you leave it? Put it back. Ellie...

Oh, no, wait. No, leave it. Leave it. Ohm this is good. This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is?

Oh, man.

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal character dialogue #joel miller dialogue #PPCU

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loafsbakery · 1 year

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hey stranger | j.m.

A/N: Long time no see :D Bee is just a nickname for the reader. character has no name and is still reader insert.

Synopsis: after a tense split between you and Joel, he finds you again, but do you want to see him anymore?

Genre: angst and fluff

Warnings: Age gap (15+ years)

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader, OC!Emory x reader

Main Masterlist

You found Joel and Ellie at Frank and Bill’s house. A couple years after Joel met them, they found you. You were a teenager, and your brother had turned into a runner.

Frank took pity on you, and asked Bill to take you in with them. He relented of course, but what choice did he really have. If Frank asked for something, Bill rarely ever denied him.

What was supposed to be temporary turned long term. You stayed with them and they were the only family you had. They talked a whole lot about Tess and Joel, although you could see Bill’s dislike for the guy.

You finally met him, and a younger girl. The first thing you noticed was how handsome he was despite the permanent scowl on his face. The second thing you noticed was the gun he held up to your face.

“What are you doin here?” He ushered the girl behind him and she listened dutifully.

You squinted your eyes at him, seeing the connections from his features to the descriptions of Bill and Frank. “Joel? Joel Miller?”

“What the hell.” He muttered under his breath.

He lowers the gun slightly, but not by much. “Bill-” You swallow thickly. “He left a letter for you and... Tess, but she’s not- sorry, let me get it.”

Joel keeps his gun up as he follows you, Ellie not far behind. He notices the picture of the three of you together, and he wonders how Bill was able to find a camera.

“Here.” You hold out a piece of paper with his name scribbled on it. He doesn’t take it, but the girl behind him takes it much to his dismay and reads it.

You mess with your hands trying your best to not remember your own letter that he had left for you. Sadness displayed on every corner of your face as Ellie finished reading the letter.

Joel’s face remained the same, although his gun was fully lowered now. He took the letter that explained who you were as well as everything else. It was most certainly his handwriting and his voice in those words. “He said you would come one day. I guess it’s nice to meet you finally.”

He just grunts at your hospitality. Ellie rolls her eyes and sticks out her hand. “I’m Ellie.” She sticks out her hand and right as you are about to take it you see the mark.

“Shit.” You bite out, quickly grabbing your gun and point it at her. Joel moves quickly in front of her and his gun is on you again. “She’s infected Joel.”

“She’s not.” He grunts out.

Ellie holds her hands out in front of you. “I promise, I’m immune, I’ve had this for over three weeks. We’re trying to get a cure from it please. I promise.”

Your brother’s eyes flash back into your memory, how he pleaded for death after being bitten and how you had to grant it to him. But she didn’t look anything like your brother did after a couple hours. And you assume Joel wouldn’t take a risk like that on himself either. “I’m sorry.” You whisper. “Well, I’m Bee. Can I help?”

Thus began your adventure with the pair and your unlikely relationship with Joel. Ellie was easy and could talk for hours, you and Ellie would have competitions to see if you could make Joel laugh. You were pushing 40 but still were so lively in comparison to Joel.

“What do you miss about before, Joel?” You asked as Ellie slept behind you two.

He hardened almost instantly, he did this every time you asked of life before. You weren’t sure what it was, but you would have hoped he would confide in you one day.

“I miss showers.” You laughed. “That and sushi probably.”

Joel coughed out a small laugh. “That raw fish is shit.”

You feigned hurt and slapped his shoulder. “Joel Miller you take that back.”

He tried his damndest not to care about Ellie and not to love you. It was hard. So painfully hard not to love both of you. Ellie who was just as spunky and full of everything good like Sarah. Sarah who would have befriended Ellie if she could of. And you. You never not had a smile on your face, regardless of the situation.

So he took care of you the only way he knew how. He kept you alive and got so incredibly mad when you would put yourself in danger. He loved you, but he would never let you know that.

But you did. You knew it from the way he gave you an extra bar of food from his own stash, you knew it from the eyes he keeps on you when he thinks you can’t see. And one day you give Joel a kiss on the cheek. He coughs it off and looks away from you. You chuckle and squeeze his shoulder before going back to your sleeping bag.

Then one day it blew up. You had met Tommy and his wife Maria and saw a picture of a young girl he kept in his coat pocket when it fell out. “Is this your daughter?” You asked Tommy with Ellie beside you.

He shook his head. “Niece.” The two of you obviously understood what that meant and a lump appeared in your throat. Your heart breaking for the man you have come to love. His hatred for the state of the world was already justified, but knowing this. You can’t imagine how he’s survived so long with the weight of this.

A bit after you continue your journey without Tommy and Maria. You hug Joel from behind and he places his hands on top of yours, putting down the tools he was using to set up camp.

“Joel.” You whisper. “I’m so sorry about Sarah.” You thought it would maybe bring you closer but he pulled away.

“How did you- don’t. Don’t you mention her name.” Joel felt his heart break the way it did every time he let himself remember his baby.

You step closer only for him to step back. “Joel, I love you, I just want to help you.” You might as well have slapped him from the way he looked about you.

He pointed a finger at you. “Don’t come snoopin’ in my life. You’re on thin fuckin’ ice right now.”

“I just want- I love you, and I know you love me. Please just let me in.”

Joel’s head shook from side to side. “No I don’t. I don’t know where you got that idea from but that ain’t it. I didn’t even want you to come with us, but really what choice do I have when you’re always puttin’ yourself where you don’t belong.”

“Please, you don’t mean that.”

“Try me. You could leave right now and I wouldn’t care whether you ended up dead or alive.” In the same way as Joel’s, your heart broke, and what was left of it hurt your chest.

Joel took off, angry you brought Sarah up, angry all over again for the way she was taken from him. Ellie watched quietly as you cried and leaned against the wall holding yourself. She had gotten to know you pretty well, and she knew of everything you had gone through so she hugged you as you cried, trying to comfort you.

“I don’t think he meant it.” She would say.

You shook your head, tears staining her shirt. “I’m so sorry El, you have to be stronger than me okay? Promise?”

“Promise.” She wouldn’t know what that meant until the next morning when she woke up and you were gone.

She woke up earlier than she would normally, she only knows that because Joel was still asleep. Ellie saw the note left by her sleeping bag, her name on it in a similar manner to the note Bill left long ago.

I’m so sorry baby girl, I love you so much, please take care of yourself and Joel. He needs you.

Ellie’s breathing picked up. Her worst fears coming true. You left her. Rationally, she knew why you left, but it didn’t change the overall fact that you left her. “Joel.” She cried out getting up. “Joel!” She cried harder and Joel bolted to her side with his gun in hand.

“What Ellie. Are you okay? Where is Bee, Ellie?” He asked looking all around for you. “Where is she?”

Ellie cried handing him the note you left. “She’s gone. She’s- she’s gone cause of you Joel! Because you were so mean to her. She-” Ellie’s crying caused her to start hiccuping and she couldn’t breathe. Joel lowered his gun, ignoring the pain in his chest and held her close. Crying how it was his fault you left and that you abandoned her.

The guilt Joel failed to feel last night came at him full force, and there was nothing he could do. He wouldn’t be able to find you, and contrary to what he said last night, he cared about you a whole lot, and you being gone caused so much panic in his head knowing he couldn’t do anything.

He couldn’t do anything but hold Ellie while she cried, his own feelings stifled by her loud ones.

Ever since you were little you had someone looking over you. Your brother, Bill and Frank, Joel. You have never known what it was like to be truly alone. Until now anyway.

When you had to figure out the map by yourself. Figure out where to even go. You remembered something about Tommy being in Jackson. He was the only friend outside of Joel and Ellie that you had. So you attempted to make your way there, gun in hand, scared for your life.

There were a few incidents with clickers, one got a little too close for comfort, but you kept yourself safe. It was a feeling you never had before. You did protect yourself before, but in case you weren’t strong enough, someone was always there. And now you had no room for errors.

You were more nervous about bumping into someone, as only really crazy people wander out so far. Thankfully, your walk to Jackson didn’t include interacting with anyone really.

But that also meant it was really lonely. You would cry to sleep hoping Joel and Ellie were okay. That they were safe and you were happy they had each other, because you were so lonely.

It was your choice to leave, but it was only after the cruel things Joel had said, and it did look like he meant it. He never came to apologize, but you regret it a little if only for Ellie.

It was too late, you had no idea where they were, and it would be dangerous for you to just wander with no real place in mind.

Eventually, you made it to Jackson and reunited with Tommy and Maria who welcomed you with open arms. Literally, you ran straight at them and hugged them tight, relishing in the human touch you missed so much.

“Bee, are Joel and Ellie okay?” Tommy asks worried.

You nod pulling back a bit. “Why are you here all alone, Bee?” Maria asks this time.

“It’s a- a bit of a story. I left. I don’t really think they needed me.” Tommy nods, understanding that his brother sabotaged himself from something good like he always does.

Maria ignores the pensiveness from the younger Miller brother and ushers you in the town. “We have a couple new houses Tommy finished up, and there’s some jobs you can take up.” She explains.

They let you stay with them for that night, and you moved into your new house the next day. It was really close to the farm they had, so you decided to run it. Tommy had been going there periodically with Maria, but it needed constant care. You were more than willing to be surrounded by some animals. There was even a German Shepard who took to you quickly named Lily. She was about six years old, and she was the sweetest.

A few weeks after feeling settled you decided to go out to the town bar that everyone frequented. You sat with Maria chatting as Tommy socialized with the other townspeople.

“Emory has been looking at you since we got here.” You turn to see who she meant and it was the same guy who kept coming to the farm with new appliances for the animals. He always made things. “He’s cute, Bee.

“He stops by the farm a lot, I didn’t realize I never knew his name.” You explain, but as you go to turn back around he walks towards you sitting beside you.

He smiles joyfully, and you take a better look at him. It was true, he was handsome, and he was much closer in age to you. Though you loved Joel still, Maria kept telling you that moving on was something you had to get on. That you shouldn’t wait for Joel to ever come around.

You thought you knew Joel well enough, and because of that you figured she was right. “Hi Miss Maria.” He flashes her a warm smile.

Maria smiles at the two of you cheekily. “Hello Emory, nice seein’ you around. Been some time.”

Emory chuckles at her callout. “I’ve been busy workin’ on some new project for the farm. Wanted to help Bee out... make it easier to care for em’.”

You felt your face warm at his admission and you finally look at him. “I’m so sorry, I never got your name. I feel so rude.”

He shakes his head softly. “We’re all square Bee. I like helpin’ y’out.” A new song played in the small bar and he lit up. “You wanna dance Bee? Haven’t heard this song in ages.”

Maria sends an obvious look your way and you take the hand he had out for you. His smooth southern voice reminded you of Tommy and Joel, and you wondered if he knew them too.

He danced with you slowly, you had never danced like this with anyone before, but it felt nice. You felt wanted. “I really am sorry I never got your name before. You’ve been so helpful to me.”

“It ain’t your fault.” He reasoned as he swayed with you, his hands on your sides. “I just wanted to know everything about you.”

You giggled quietly. “Definitely not everything.”

“Everything.” He nodded.

From then on, you saw Emory a lot more. Lily liked him enough to greet him at the door. He made stuff for you personally now. A bed frame, furniture. You two would take strolls on the horses, and it was one of your first date.

Four months into dating Emory and you felt yourself finally beginning to maybe letting go of Joel Miller. You still loved him, but maybe you could make room in your heart for Emory.

It was hard. There was so much about Joel you loved, and even now you couldn’t let go of it, but you tried convincing yourself he wouldn’t want you anyway. And here was this great guy who wanted you. There really was only one choice.

Yet one random day, you were feeding the pigs with Lily you hear the gate open. Emory said he would be back later today, but you smile knowing he got off early. “Welcome back.” You smile happily as you turn around.

Whatever else you had to say dies on your lips when you come face to face with Joel Miller. His hands at his sides looking as devastatingly handsome as he did the first time you saw him. “Hi Bee.”

His voice is smooth as it always was. Your hands clench feeling your breathing getting faster. “Hi.” You breathe out.

“I’m-” Joel paused holding back all the words he wants to say. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

Your nose scrunches at his admission. “I didn’t think that would be the case.” Joel’s words came back to you and it hurt just as bad as it did when he said them, but you weren’t going to try to make amends with Joel. “Is Ellie here?” He nods. “Where?” You ask eagerly.

“Walk with me.” He’s already turning around and you walk quickly with Lily to catch up. She walks cautiously towards Joel, and when she’s close enough he bends down to pet her. Her tail wags like crazy as she lick Joels hands. He chuckles at the furry creature, and you watch quietly. “What’s her name?”

“Lily.”

He nods and continues to walk forward.

You see her before she sees you. She’s talking about something with Tommy. You run as fast as you can and squeeze her from behind. She’s quick to turn around and takes you in. “Bee!” She cries out squeezing you in a hug again.

“I’m so sorry baby girl. I missed you so much.” You cry into her. Finally believing that her and Joel are alive.

“S’okay.” She blubbers out, crying with you. “I understood.”

Once you let go you wipe your tears away and look back at Joel, feeling very emotional. “I’m happy you’re okay.”

He nods. “I’m so damn grateful you made it.” He’s about to say something else before your name is called out.

“Hey Bee, are you alright sweetheart.” Emory inspects your face as you nod.

He turns back to Joel and Ellie who has a scrunched up face. “Hey, nice to meet y’all.”

You gesture to the two of them. “That’s Joel, Tommy’s brother, and Ellie. This is Emory”

Joel nods stiffly while Ellie waves a hand around. The two of you walk off and he takes you to the farm. “You knew them?”

You nod stiffly. “Travelled with them for a bit.” That was that. Emory left you to tend to the animals, promising to spend more time together tomorrow.

Of course Joel couldn’t really keep away from you. Not when for the longest time he didn’t know you were alive or dead. He got in through the gate and Lily immediately greeted him, so happy to see him. “Hello sweetie.”

Her happy barks echoed throughout the place, so you went back out to see him with her. It made you feel warm, but the dread you felt from before crept back in. “Can I help you Joel?”

He slowly pushes off his knees to stand back up. “I just wanted to see you.”

“You saw me earlier.” You point out.

“Not enough.”

The two of you remain quiet for a while, letting Lily’s soft panting and the noise from the farm linger between you.

“I’m sorry Sweet Bee.” Your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. “I didn’t mean it.” It’s been so long without any sort of apology that the emotions from the argument come back as if it was fresh. “You just... thinking about her?” Joel sighs softly trying his best to explain without falling apart from the loss. “It breaks my heart all over again- my baby girl. I’ve been so angry, at everything that took her from me.” Your eyes squeeze to prevent the tears that form from his grief to fall. You feel it, just like you did back then. “I was so angry I didn’t realize I was losin’ you in that process.”

Joel didn’t cry, he’s worked hard over the years to keep his feelings to himself. But he almost did. Watching you break down in sympathy for him, for Sarah. It tears him apart. “I’m sorry Joel. I know I’ll never really understand, but fuck if it doesn’t hurt all the same. I’m so sorry Joel.”

Your words don’t come as shock, but it’s warm. It’s honest and your sadness for him is welcomed this time instead of pushed aside. He closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you to him. “I was so scared, Bee. Scared you were hurt and there was nothin’ I could to to help you.” You nod crying into his chest, your knuckles clenching together. “And I do love you Bee. I really do.”

His admission has you freezing in his hold, guilt creeping in for the man who has been nothing but doting on you since you got to Jackson. You pull back from him to finally look at him. “Joel I-”

“I know you’re with that kid.” Joel sighs. “But I felt like you deserved to know after I- after I lied. Quite terribly.” He leaves a small kiss on your forehead before pulling back and leaving you be.

Unfortunately, it only left you more lost than before. You closed up farm early and headed home with Lily. It was true that you still loved Joel, but you did care about Emory, and was it fair to let him go after everything he has done for you?

The next day you decided it was best to let him go, not keep lying to him when you knew it would always be Joel. When he visited you you sat him down by the stables.

“I just wanted to talk to you about something. You play with your hands a little as your nerves kick in.

He smiles still, albeit a bit confused. “Are you alright Bee?”

Your head shakes and you finally look at him. “I really do like you Em, and I have loved spending time with you. But-” Your words get stuck, mouth open trying to form some sentence that will make it easier. “I can’t be with you anymore.”

Emory’s face now completely sullen hurts. “I guess I just don’t... understand. What happened?” He’s looking at you for answers, and you’re not sure if you should really reveal it. “I-” he breathes out. “I love you Bee.”

You let out a small cry at his confession. “No Em, I’m definitely not worth that-”

“You are Bee, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier, but please. I just want you.”

“I can’t- I can’t love you like that Em.” You admit sheepishly. “I don’t think I can love anyone else like that.”

His face unfurls and he’s squinting at you. “Are you-” his hands move to his hips. “Are you in love with someone else.”

Your eyes close, but open again to face him. “Yes.” You breathe out. “The same person I was in love with when I got here. I don’t want to lie to you or myself anymore thinking that it’s going to change.”

“Who?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of matters a fuckin’ lot to me, Bee.” His voice is raised and you’re on your toes. Lily starts barking up, not liking the way Emory’s voice became angry. You really needed her with you, so you’re on edge when she goes off somewhere.

Your hands go out in a way to calm him down. “I need you to step back, and I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, but I’m telling you I can’t be with you anymore. Please understand.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.” Emory chuckles slowly. “You mean to tell me I’ve wasted my time with you?”

You huff out in disagreement. “If that’s because I didn’t sleep with you then it’s for the better that we split.”

“Now don’t you fuckin’-” He goes to grab your arm but he hears Lily’s barks come back louder.

“You touch a hair on her head I’ll shoot you right through your goddamn skull.” Joel holds up his gun, and it’s almost comical how much it reminds you of the first time you met.

He points to Joel with the hand he raised to you. “This him?”

��Leave Emory. Now.” You say sternly.

He clicks his tongue to look back at Joel. “You know this ain’t none of your business.”

“It is my business if you lay a finger on her. Get outta here like she asked. I won’t ask again.”

Emory relents finally and leaves you with Joel and Lily. You stoop down to pet Lily, silently thanking her for getting Joel for you. “Thank you, Joel.”

“I’m sorry about it.” He says.

You shrug. “He’s just angry I didn’t sleep with him.” Joel’s head whips his head around to you and you laugh. “What? I’m selective.”

He brushes it off stepping closer to you and Lily allows it. “Are you alright?”

You nod. “It- It was always going to be you Joel.” His expression doesn’t change by much, but you can tell he’s really listening by the way his breathing picks up. “So if you want me, well, I’m here.”

It doesn’t take long for him to drop the gun and take you in his arms kissing your breath away. Your hands instinctively go to his hair pulling at it as he holds you tighter, pressing into you as much as he could.

He pulls back, resting his forehead to yours, his hands in your hair now and yours moved to his shoulders. “Well thank you Miller.”

Joel laughs into you. “I love you Bee.”

Thank you guys for reading!

See you next time! <3

#tlou #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #ellie williams #the last of us #tommy miller #sarah miller #pedro pascal

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heartpascal · 1 year

Note

[SPOILERS FOR TLOU PT2]

so i was listening to "the other side" by ruelle and "wait for it" by leslie odom jr. and had this depressing thought regarding that maybe bonus scene of "if the door wasn't shut" series but like- what if it was reader who abby kills instead of joel? hear me out but- joel killed her father right? and probably made her go through sm pain and grief right? so what if somehow she finds out how much reader means to joel.

"did we ever see it coming?

will we ever let it go?"

and blinded by her need for revenge, she 🏌️ the reader instead, wanting joel to feel the same pain and grief she feels and twists the knife even deeper saying that her death is on him. the reader who didn't even go with them and had no idea what even happened in that hospital and absolutely had no part of it was killed because of him. that her death will be on his conscience. she was just someone who was caught in the crossfire because of her relations with joel and ellie.

"i don't want to lose part of me,

will i recover?"

and joel, ellie, and tommy just watches her get 🏌️ by abby. i'm- IMAGINE THE PAIN TOMMY AND MARIA WILL GO THROUGH 😭😭😭😭 reader whom they basically raised as their own just gets killed just like that 😭 maria gonna lose another child 😭 AND READER'S SHOP IS JUST BURIED IN FLOWERS 😭😭😭

"i don't want to know what it's like to live without you,

don't want to know the other side of a world without you."

what's even more depressing is that she's still young and still had a life ahead of her and it's just cut short because the world is cruel just like that. (especially in the tlou universe cough)

"death doesn't discriminate,

between the sinners and the saints,

it takes and it takes and it takes."

and joel just breaking and wondering why he's still when so many people that he has know and cared and loved has left him (i'm going for the sarah's mom left route and tommy leaving joel to join the fireflies) or died (sarah, tess, bill, frank, sam, henry, and now reader) AND WHAT IF THEY JUST MADE UP TOO?!?! I CAN'T- 😭😭😭

"(and we keep living anyway),

we rise (and we fall),

we fall (and we break),

(and we make our mistakes),

and if there's a reason i'm still alive,

when so many have died."

might go back to this if ive thought of even more but for now i'm ending this here and gonna cry about it 😭😭

THE LAST OF US PART 2 SPOILERS!

howl you have HURT me with this one. so badly. my heart hurts. i’m gonna add my thoughts hope this is ok <3

FIRST. LETS TALK ABOUT THE SONGS. especially the other side by ruelle?? HELLO??? “i don’t want to leave here without you” …. stop it. i’m in so much pain. “i don’t want to know what it’s like to live without you” SCREAMING. this hurts me so much and it fits for all of the characters AND AND “i don’t want to know who we are without each other” i cant do this today howl i really cant. it’s interchangeable between the scenarios as well i-

“and if there’s a reason i’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died” stop. i’m gonna cry and shout and sob and yell.

lets think about this scenario, shall we?

warning: graphic content, death, weapons, blood, canon-typical, grief, aftermath of r dying. you should know what’s happened if you’ve come past the keep reading thingy. pls read at your own risk <3 its not written as a proper fic/drabble (although there’s an idea) but still, be careful of the content you consume !!!!

lets say that reader and jesse were partnered up to take joel and tommy off of patrol. lets say that reader is fucking terrified when the miller bros don’t show up. lets say that jesse agrees to go and find dina and ellie while reader goes ahead to look for joel and tommy, fearing the worst.

lets say reader hears that gunshot, and rushes in, guns blazing. lets say she shoots owen in the shoulder when she pushes the door open, because he’s the first person she sees. lets say manny takes her down, gets her gun off of her, while joel is yelling as he realises who it is.

lets say joel is yelling, “get your hands off of her” and “don’t you touch her” while the others hold him down, tommy already knocked flat out. lets say abby is stood there, looking between you baring your teeth as you’re held down by manny and joel yelling for you. lets say she’s angry, she’s angrier than she’s ever been. lets say that she looks at you and sees herself, and she looks to joel only to see what he took from her.

lets say reader is looking at joel, at his leg that’s almost beyond saving, lets say reader is praying that jesse, dina and ellie are quick. she’s sure that if they got here soon, the four of you could get the upper hand. joel would be okay, if only the others were quick.

lets say abby looks at joel one more time, and spits “move him”, and she looks to reader while the others pull joel away, while he’s kicking and screaming the whole way.

lets say they pull reader over towards the wall, all looking at abby nervously.

lets say when she swings at reader’s head the first time, she’s still struggling, looking over to joel as one of the group hits him across the head with their gun. lets say the second time, she goes down, and they don’t need to hold reader against the wall anymore.

“don’t,” reader would say, “please, i-” lets say abby hitting her again would cut anything else off, and some of the group have to rush to the door when it opens, and reader blinks bleary eyes over to see ellie, and almost sighs with relief until she’s taken down.

lets say reader waits, vision swimming, to hear or maybe see jesse and dina come through the doorway, guns blazing. lets say reader tries not to cry when they don’t come.

“stop it! she had nothing to do with this” ellie would say, despite not knowing why the group was here, why they were doing this. “i’ll kill you, i’ll fucking kill you! stop,” she would be begging, pleading, as they hold her head against the floor, lets say she’d try and pull away, try and get to reader as abby would swing again.

lets say joel hears ellie scream as he starts to wake up, his first and only image being reader with her face covered in blood and- they hit him across the head again, and he’s out.

lets say jesse and dina come, and dina almost doesn’t shout for jesse to come down. lets say jesse almost passes out when he pushes the wooden door open. lets say that he shouts, and he’s on his knees beside reader in a second, not touching, hands just hovering, and lets say he doesn’t know what to do. lets say he holds in his tears as he turns to where tommy is blinking into consciousness. lets say he blocks the man’s view of you until he’s pushed aside.

lets not say how joel is unresponsive when he wakes up, even though dina had pulled a sheet to cover the sight in front of him, lets not say that none of them can get him to speak even when they pull him up, on his half-fucked leg, tourniquet wrapped around his thigh from the very group who had-

here’s what we shouldn’t think about this situation!

lets not think about tommy having to go home to maria, to his son, and look her in the face to tell her what happened. lets not think about maria demanding to see reader, demanding for someone to tell her it’s not fucking true.

lets not think about how joel can’t be there when reader is buried, stuck in the infirmary, because he’s alive. he’s alive and reader isn’t. lets not think about that.

lets not think about how jesse would blame himself, would never forgive himself for letting her go searching alone, how he would carry that blame forever.

lets not think about ellie sitting in reader’s shop, looking at the clay reader had set out that morning, ready for when she’d be home later on in the evening. lets not think about all the flowers that would be laying outside of the shop, obscuring ellie��s view out of the windows.

lets not think about tommy leaving maria when she needed him most.

lets not think about ellie and dina going after him.

lets not think about joel, finally being let out of the infirmary, heading back to Rancher Street, not knowing what else to do. lets not think about joel being completely despondent, about him finding the mug that reader had made sat on the counter from the coffee he’d had in it just before he had gone on patrol.

lets not think about joel finding out his whole family has gone to avenge reader, when its his fault she’s gone. lets not think about him limping to the stables, demanding to go after them. lets not think about jesse helping him sneak away.

lets not think actually.

(i could add more to this. expand on other things that could happen in this situation. but. i’m sad. i will if yall want tho >:])

#heartpascal says #tlou part 2 spoilers #tlou part 2 #tlou2 spoilers #the last of us part 2 spoilers #the last of us part ii spoilers #the last of us part two spoilers #the last of us 2 spoilers #tlou part two spoilers #tlou part ii spoilers #tlou part two #tlou2 #can you tell i’m trying to be thorough #PLEASE #howl <3 #tlou 2 spoilers #tlou 2 #tlou spoilers #the last of us spoilers

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daddy-dins-girl · 9 months

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Playing Monopoly (TLOU) edition.

So I recently did a "Pedro Boys" version of this (x) and it was just too much fun and I kept thinking about how the TLOU characters would fit into it and well... here we are.

Sarah - the only trustworthy (and smart enough) one in the Miller household to be trusted as banker. Besides, she's an honest thief. Ellie - Everyone has learned not to fight her on this. Ellie is the dog. Always. Whenever they pull out the game now Joel just automatically hands her the piece. Tess - Plays by "Tess rules". Nobody has yet had the guts to argue with her. Maria - "Your honor, I'd like to submit into evidence, exhibit A" *points to rulebook* Joel - Try as he might he could never win against Sarah (or Tommy for that matter). Twenty years later he's getting his butt kicked all over again, just by a different 14 year old (and the same little brother). Tommy - Joel stopped giving him his "Get out of Jail Free" cards so he mostly just lives there now. "Can't go bankrupt in Jail", Tommy reasons. Frank - Hey, a guys gotta eat. Marlene - will not let Tommy or Joel live anything down. Bill - he takes the gun off the table first at least.

#The last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller #tommy miller #ellie williams #sarah miller #tlou hbo #tlou

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bitchyglitterfox · 1 year

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Clementine - Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: held at gun point and pinned to a wall, fluff, cute nickname, no use of y/n, reader has a nickname tho

A/n: ahhhhh my first Joel fic!!!!

...

"Hey, how come Joel calls you clementine?" You were walking Ellie to school.

The three of you had settled down in Jackson after Joel had saved Ellie.

"Hmm, he hasn't told you that story yet?" You reply while holding your hand above your brow blocking the sun from your eyes, "well it's a really funny story, but I won't tell you about it until you get back from school," you smirk down at her.

"Aw, come on, man! I wanna know, please. If you tell me right now, I'll do your dishes for weeks," Ellie pleads with you.

You think for a moment. "Tempting, but no, you will just have to wait until dinner tonight. That is when I'll tell you the story of why Joel calls me clementine. Besides, we're already here at your school, now go on before you get in trouble for being late….again," you kiss the top of Ellie's head and watch as she follows the other kids into the school.

You smile at the memory of why Joel calls you that name. Hell, he hasn't used your real name in years, always using the name of the citrus fruit instead.

The use of clementine had started nearly a decade prior, back at the Boston QZ.

Finally, you were able to sneak back into the QZ. It was a hard day's work but you managed to get a good enough haul that would bring you in a decent amount of ration cards and keep the FEDRA off your back especially if you bring in fresh fruit just like you have been for the past few years. clementines and strawberries. The only 2 fruits you were able to grow.

You were so close making it back until you bumped into a man and woman both a good bit older than you, the gray in their hair making you sure they were older.

"I-" you squeaked out before the man had you pinned against the wall, gun pressed against your temple.

"Who the fuck are you and where the fuck did you come from?" He yelled in your face, spit landed on your cheek.

"I-I um, I have a garden on the other side of the wall, FEDRA looks the other way if I give them twenty-five percent of my haul!" You said as you tried to raise your hands.

"Don't fuckin' move!" The man said as he pulls your backpack off of you, tossing it to the woman, "if we find out you are lyin' I'm gonna kill you," he threatens.

After some ruffling through your backpack and clementines and strawberries scattered.

"She's telling the truth," the woman glared at you, "how long have you been doing this?"

"Only a f-few months, I found some clementine trees and a nearby patch of strawberries," you stuttered out as the man still holds you tight, "I-I-if you let me join you, I can get you ration cards,"

"We don't need yer help," he replied, finally pulling the gun away from your head and holstering it once again.

"Now, wait, Joel, we could use her, we didn't know about the fresh fruit nearby. She could be useful."

That is how you met Joel and Tess and helped them around the QZ with their smuggling. You were the reason Bill and Frank had strawberries

"Wait, so you're telling me that Joel held you at gunpoint?" Ellie looks at him shocked, "not fucking cool man!"

"In his defense, he did think I was moving in on his already claimed territory," you laugh, placing a hand on top of his as you sip your coffee.

"I still can't believe you were able to find such a delicious score," Ellie says as she finishes up her plate, taking it over to the sink.

You follow her and gently place your plate in the sink.

"I think I'm gonna go enjoy the air in the backyard, Ellie feel free to join me after you finish the dishes," you say gently hugging her.

You walk out the backdoor and go to sit on the porch swing Joel installed.

"I can't believe you told her that story," Joel says as he sits next to you with a hand on your waist as you admire your new clementine tree. A smile graces your face as he places a kiss on the top of your head. He gently places his free hand on your pregnant belly.

"Yeah, well, she was curious as to why you always called me clementine." You say as you lean your head on his shoulder.

#bitchyglitterfox writes #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #the last of us show #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us fandom #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #joel miller imagine

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tommysversion · 1 year

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Unconditionally: Joel Miller x OC { Part 1/10 }

Summary: Lucy loves Joel Miller unconditionally. A cross country trip to escort an immune, bad mouthed teenager to safety might just prove it.

CWs: canon typical violence / unsafe sex / age gap / language / spoilers (if anyone cares) / canon divergence / mentions of attempted sexual assault / themes of previous suicidal tendencies

Note: this work is intended for adult audiences only. It is not strictly canon compliant, and was originally posted to A03 when I first ventured into the fandom.

Unconditionally. Part One of Thirteen.

Joel doesn’t want to stay the night, not really. It feels too much like invading the peace, too much like an intrusion, even though Bill and Frank are dead. Maybe that’s precisely why it feels that way.

It feels too much like an intrusion, and he’s lost enough, as of late. He didn’t much like Bill, and he’s certain that feeling was mutual. Grudgingly, he admits he didn’t mind Frank so much. He was hard to dislike, even by someone as prickly as Joel. He can’t afford to get caught up in thinking on it, not too heavily. Even with Tess gone… he has two travelling companions still relying on him. One more than the other, he supposed, on account of Ellie being a goddamn kid. Lucy, not so much. The younger woman he met by chance in the QZ isn’t bad with a weapon, and she’s good at being stealthy. All good traits in a smuggler. He never wanted a fucking apprentice, or whatever the hell she started as, but when she found out he was leaving the QZ, she’d pretty much invited herself along to “watch his dumb ass”. He hadn’t exactly argued.

As requested in the letter, he doesn’t go into the bedroom. What he does do, before he showers, is take inventory of the gas canisters, the truck, the supplies in the garage. Only once he has an idea of what they’re working with, does he relent to Ellie’s nagging and hit the shower.

For a kid, she’s persistent.

It’s not his ideal scenario, to crash for the night in the bunker Bill installed beneath his house long before the infection ever started, but it soon becomes clear to him that it’s the scenario he gets.

Ellie’s rubbing her eyes, clearly exhausted but making a show of pretending she isn’t; even the hype of the handgun she pocketed earlier can’t fight off fatigue. Joel doesn’t know about the weapon, nor does Lucy, and in Ellie’s eyes, the adults guarding her don’t need to know. Not yet anyway.

Lucy doesn’t look much better; there’s only so far you can go on caffeine pills and pure adrenaline, and Joel fully expects her to crash at any moment. She’s currently examining the wall of guns along the far side of the bunker, occasionally pausing to check the security cameras.

“We may as well stay here for the night.” Joel offers, because he knows Lucy wants to ask, but won’t, and he’d rather she was sharp for the journey ahead.

“You sure?” She’s not questioning him, more making certain; she knows he’s not a huge fan of staying in one place for too long. Even though the compound is protected, it still feels too exposed. Too risky.

“May as well. We can get some sleep, load up the truck and be out of here by dawn.” He’s already taking a mental inventory of everything they’ll be taking with them.

“Right.” Lucy turns her attention back to the wall of guns, running her fingers over a few, occasionally taking one down to test the weight of it, to see how fast it reloads and cocks.

Ellie, meanwhile, busies herself opening a cardboard box stamped: US ARMY MRE RATION.

“Is this food?” She turns a vacuum sealed bag over in her hands, squinting at it.

Lucy looks over her shoulder, a rifle in her hands.

“Oh, yeah. That’s old shit, but it’ll survive anything. Whatcha got there?”

“Chilli.” Ellie reads the print on the package, “and something called a snack cake? The fuck is a snack cake?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. Probably an old Twinkie.” Lucy puts the rifle back and selects another, weighing it in her hands, checking the ammunition capacity. Satisfied, she raids the ammunition cabinet nearby then sets about repacking her backpack.

“It’s safe to eat, if that’s what you mean.” Joel reaches past Ellie to snag his own freeze dried food, unsealing the package to inspect the contents.

It’s not the best meal they’ve ever eaten, but it’s decidedly better than some of the worst, and certainly enough that each of the trio made room in their backpacks for a few of the rations. Better to have ancient, somewhat tasteless food, than no food at all.

“So we’re sleeping down here?” Ellie surveys the bunker in mild amusement. They’re all aware there’s a spare room upstairs and a couch, but it feels too exposed, and too much like squatting.

“May as well. You take the cot, Ellie.” Lucy nods to the camping cot tucked away against the wall, under a rolled sleeping mat and a small stack of blankets.

“Not gonna complain.” The teen shrugs, helps move the sleeping mat and most of the blankets off the cot, then drops herself down onto the surface, pausing only to take off her new hoodie.

Joel keeps his eyes on the security cameras as Lucy unrolls the sleeping mat; it’s relatively large, they can probably both squash onto it and have enough room, and a blanket each.

“Tonight only.” He warns both woman and girl, “don’t get comfortable.”

Lucy sticks her tongue out at him. She wants to argue with him, make a smartass comment about it being impossible to get comfortable on a thin ass sleeping mat in a bunker, but she knows the road ahead is likely to be unpleasant, far more uncomfortable than the current situation.

Joel rolls his eyes, watches as she unlaces her boots and leaves them to the side of the sleeping mat; if they were anywhere else, he knows that she wouldn’t have taken her shoes off at all. But if they’re compromised in the night? Best thing they can do is wait it out in the bunker. He’s not going to begrudge her taking off her shoes, not when he plans on doing the same.

He glances over to the cot, where Ellie’s already out like a light. He has to hand it to the kid, her ability to sleep wherever the fuck they land is somewhat impressive.

Another glance, to Lucy this time, then he returns to the security feed.

“We can swap out watching the monitors, if you wanna be sure.” Lucy unfolds a thin, itchy blanket, then another. Sighs. Wool isn’t what it used to be.

“Honestly there ain’t much point, but. I’m not the type to be a sitting duck. Not that we’ve got much choice.” Joel frowns, surveys the makeshift double bed Lucy’s put together. “I can sleep in the chair.”

“At your age?” Lucy’s mouth turns up into a smirk, the way it always does when she’s teasing. He can hear it in her voice, even when she turns away from him so she can crawl under the blanket, nose wrinkled with distaste at the fabric.

“Rude.” Joel replies without rancor; honestly, the chair looks uncomfortable as hell, more so than the camping mat, itchy blankets or no.

“Don’t argue with me,” Lucy says in response, “there’s room. Besides, these blankets fucking suck. We’ll freeze down here without each other.”

Her tone is playful, makes it clear she’s just messing with him. Sighing, he takes off his own shoes, leaves them on his side of the ‘bed’, then sets his handgun down beside them, within reach. He notices she’s done the same thing, has her pistol within reach, just in case. Her new rifle isn’t far off, either. He wants to think he’s taught her well, but honestly, Lucy was a survivor before he met her.

Joel turns out the fluorescent overhead lights, leaving the bunker illuminated only by a camping lantern next to the ‘bed’ and the security feed monitors.

He strips off his coat, folding it into a makeshift pillow, then slides under the blankets, immediately feeling the slight itch of old fabric mixed with the chill of the night coming.

“These blankets do suck.” He comments as he turns onto his side, facing her. He can look over her shoulder or prop himself up to check the monitors every now and then. He doesn’t think they’ll be disturbed, not really, not down here. It’s probably the only secure night of sleep they’ll get until they’re back in the QZ, or something similar.

“Told you.” Lucy huddles under them nonetheless; he supposes it is somewhat cold down here, and it’ll only get colder during the night. That, and she gave the best blanket to the kid. Of course she did.

He looks over her shoulder to check the monitors one last time before he turns his attention back to her; she’s trying not to shiver, even in the long pants - jeans - and shirt she’s wearing.

“Fuck sake, c’mere before you wake the kid with your chattering teeth.” Again, there’s no heat in his words as he opens his arms to her. Anyone else, it might feel weird or uncomfortable, but Lucy is just…. Lucy.

She doesn’t even hesitate, even though she might have normally done so. She’s too damn cold to care, and fully aware it’ll be a long night if they don’t warm up soon.

When she’s right against him, Joel pulls the two blankets over the pair of them, adding an extra layer to her before wrapping his arms around her, rubbing his hands up her back to generate heat.

“How are you always a goddamn furnace?” It comes out muffled, on account of her face being buried in the crook of his shoulder, cheek resting on his collarbone.

“Luck of the draw.”

“Very funny.”

He can feel the curve of her smile against his neck, though, so he knows he hasn’t actually annoyed her with his sarcasm.

“Warming up?” He doesn’t want to push her away, not really. They’ve shared a bed - or a makeshift one - plenty of times, when the situation has called for it. There’s never been anything strange about it, not really, and if there’s an unspoken tension? Well, that’s not his problem. Or so he tells himself.

“Little bit.” Her lips graze his throat when she speaks, but she’s not so tense now; clearly she’s warming up, feeling more at ease than she was before.

“Good. Can’t have you come all this way just to lose you to frostbite.”

“I don’t think it’s cold en- oh.” She huffs, realising too late he was making another joke, albeit in that dry way of his.

A low chuckle escapes his throat, not laughing at her; at least, not in a mocking way, more just amused by her embarrassment and the little huff she made.

“Just tell me if you’re still cold.”

“A little,” she admits, “but I’ll take being a little cold as a fair trade for a single night of sleeping in relative comfort and safety.”

She said relative, so he doesn’t argue with her, just keeps running his hands up and down her back.

“We’ll find somewhere safe enough in Wyoming. After.” Joel says instead. He doesn’t add the unspoken rest: after they find his brother. After they find someone who can take Ellie in. Lucy understands; there are too many variables, too many things that could go wrong.

“Go back to being FEDRA slaves?” She suggests.

“If that’s what it takes to be safe, sure.”

He can’t see her roll her eyes in the dimmed light, not really, but he can almost hear her doing it.

“Safe.” She mutters, “as if that’s a reality.”

Joel hums agreement, adjusts his arm around her, tucks the blankets a little tighter around her shoulders.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, Joel watching the monitors, thinking she must have drifted off to sleep, when her soft voice breaks the near silence.

“Thank you.”

“For what? Keeping you warm?” He isn’t too sure what precisely she’s thanking him for.

“Keeping me around. Keeping me safe as best you can. I know I get on your last nerve, but I really do appreciate you.”

He can feel the heat of her breath on his skin as she speaks, hushed words into his good ear, not wanting to disturb Ellie.

“You don’t get on my last nerve.” He says finally, “and you don’t have to thank me. You watch my ass, I watch yours. It’s a good partnership.”

He can feel her smiling again.

“No longer a padawan, huh?”

It’s his turn to smile, a rarity for him.

“Those movies are older than both of us. How do you even know that phrase?”

“Keeper of my secrets, I am. Never know everything, will you.” Lucy responds, mimicking Yoda in a whisper.

Joel has to turn his face into her hair to muffle his own laugh, instead getting a good inhale of whatever shampoo she pilfered from the shower earlier. Something floral.

“Nerd.”

“I miss pop culture.” Lucy half shrugs, dislodging the blanket, then shivers and tucks herself further under his arm, pausing only to peek over at Ellie, who’s still a steadily breathing shape under her own blanket, probably a great deal warmer for not being practically on the concrete floor. Lucky kid.

“I miss good music and decent coffee.” Joel readjusts the blanket again, tucks the edges down around her shoulder to keep the chill out.

He misses about fifty other things, some things far more painful to talk about than others; he’s barely been able to talk about Sarah with her. He doesn’t know if he ever will. But he doesn’t want to ruin the good feeling between them by being a downer, even if he thinks she’ll understand, so he keeps it light.

“Gas station coffee was never decent.” Lucy counters, “but I get you.”

“Yeah? You were a Frappuccino girl, huh?”

“Latte.” She informs him, “with a flavour syrup.”

Joel snorts in spite of himself.

“And here I am giving you the shittiest black coffee in the history of shitty instant coffee.”

“That means we have access to it, so I’ll take it.” Her tone makes it plain she doesn’t mind, not really. Her preference might have once been for sweet coffees with lots of almond milk, but these days, she’ll take whatever caffeine she can find. Especially when it means he’s sharing his limited supply with her.

“You’re too kind.”

She’s laughing again, soft sounds muffled in his shoulder, but at least she’s no longer shivering.

“If you say so.” She says finally, hands flat against his chest, keeping herself as close as possible, trying to conserve heat. “I guess I should move, huh? I’m not about to freeze on you anymore, so.”

He doesn’t want her to move. Even the four or five inches they’d have between them if she did suddenly feels like too far.

“Only if you want to.” He says finally, “I don’t want you to just freeze again. I’m comfortable like this, if you are.”

Lucy shrugs against him.

“I’m not opposed to this.”

If there’s more she isn’t saying, that’s her business. Joel doesn’t pry, because quite frankly he’s not sure he wants to go down that path. Not because he finds her unappealing, but because letting someone close could have dire consequences.

So he just hums agreement, rests his chin on top of her head. Almost expects that to be the end of it, until -

“Not opposed to it, or okay with it?” He speaks before he can think it through, and he knows it. Wants to take it back almost right away, because this is precisely down the path he wanted to avoid. Apparently not. Again, he’s not blind to the tension between them, but he isn’t truly sure he wants to allow someone to get close to him. Not after so many losses.

“What a leading question.” Lucy tilts her head against his shoulder.

“That’s not an answer.” If he’s going to walk this path, he may as well walk it properly. Or maybe she’ll save them both the awkwardness and just go to sleep.

“Do I really need to answer it? Spell it out for you?” She laughs softly, “I’m comfortable here. I feel safe here, with you.”

“Nowhere’s safe, Lu. You said it yourself.” Joel feels like a dick the moment he says it, but he’s trying to keep it light, almost afraid to let this go any further, even if he wants it to.

“I know that. What I mean is this. Lying here like this. It feels nice.” She knows she’s doing a terrible job at explaining herself, but he’s caught her off guard.

“Yeah. I get you.” He admits, because he’s not so much of a jerk that he’ll let her confess that and not be honest in return.

“I know you do.” She adjusts herself, fingers playing idly with the fabric of his shirt. “Get me, I mean.”

It takes him a moment to formulate a response; he’s almost ashamed of how distracted her touch makes him, as though he hadn’t been running his hands up and down her back a short while ago. As though he hadn’t been distracting her just as much, even if he doesn’t know it.

“Be a shit team if I didn’t, huh?” His hand moves to briefly cover hers, planning on giving it a light squeeze of reassurance before letting go.

Lucy has other plans, flipping her hand over and interlocking her fingers with his, surprising both of them.

“What are you doing?” He asks, truly surprised by her touch.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” There’s a quiet determination in her voice, something he’s heard only hints of before. Not like this.

“I’m not gonna tell you to stop.” Joel says finally, “Hell, I got you wrapped up against me. How’s it any different?”

He’s being deliberately vague, toying with her. He doesn’t mean to, but he’s curious how far she’ll push it. He’s almost glad she’s making the first steps.

“To keep warm.” She reminds him, “that’s why I said… tell me to stop if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to stop, honestly. This is nice.”

He means that; it’s been far too damn long since he held anyone like this, let alone had someone hold his hand the way she’s holding him, her smaller thumb tracing over his, rubbing little circles. It’s soothing, and quite frankly probably the only tiny piece of serenity they’ll get for a while.

“I’m glad.” There’s a sheer honesty in her voice, even with it pitched so low, so as not to wake Ellie.

He sighs, weighing his options in his head, fighting a losing battle with himself if he’s honest. Maybe it’s strange to even be considering any sort of romantic entanglement when laying in the basement of someone else’s house, when that someone else is dead in the bedroom the floor above. But somehow, Joel thinks, Bill and Frank would understand. Here, in this house, where their story began and ultimately ended… why shouldn’t it be the place something else starts too?

“Hey, you okay in there?” Lucy tilts her head up to look at him, eyes searching his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“Escape route?” She’s only half joking, so used to him constantly being wired, attuned to their surroundings.

“Not quite.”

“Then what? Is everything alright?” Truly she sounds concerned, which in itself is touching. Maybe it once annoyed him that she gave a shit, but now? It’s grown on him.

“Everything’s fine. Honestly.”

She’s still looking at him like she doesn’t quite believe him, like she’s trying to work him out. Fuck it. Why shouldn’t this be the place something else begins too? Isn’t that what they’d have wanted? Isn’t that why Bill left him an entire goddamn arsenal? To protect those he cares about? So maybe that’s a foul mouthed teenager and a woman he used to help scavenge black market medicine with. Better than the alternative. Better than the aching emptiness of being alone.

Lucy’s still looking at him, lips slightly parted.

“Ah, what the hell.” Joel mutters, and tilts his head down so he can connect his mouth with hers.

It’s not the perfect moment to kiss her, not really. They’re barely above freezing cold in the basement of their dead friends’ house, with their antsy charge asleep twelve feet away, but it feels right nonetheless, and hell, it may be the only chance he gets.

Seize the fucking day, or whatever whoever said that shit said.

He’s almost surprised by how soft her mouth is; honestly, in a world without makeup, or very little of it, he knows her singular concession to vanity is chapstick, if she can find it. She doesn’t waste her time trying to find box dye or eyeliner or anything else that she once used daily, lets her hair be streaked with silver in places without shame or concern. She wears practical clothes to keep herself comfortable and protected, usually keeps her hair tied back for safety. And yet somehow, somehow, she has the softest goddamn mouth he’s ever kissed.

She half pulls away, just for a second, her eyes searching his once more. She must have found some sort of answer in his gaze, because she doesn’t hesitate to lean back in to initiate another kiss.

Lucy’s younger than him, it’s true, but not by so much that she’s inexperienced; that much is clear by their second kiss, by the way her teeth nip gently at his bottom lip, almost demanding better access to his mouth. He doesn’t remotely hesitate to let her, lips parting, letting their tongues entwine as he pulls her tighter against his chest, holding her there for a moment before he rolls them, carefully, propping himself up on one elbow so he’s not putting his entire weight on top of her.

She breaks the kiss once more, glances over to the other occupant of the room. Joel looks too. Still dead asleep.

“We’ll have to be quiet.” He breathes into her ear, dropping a kiss below her jaw. “Can you do that?”

A little smirk is her first answer.

“I’m sure I can.” She hums, undoes the top button of his new borrowed shirt so she can lean up and drop a kiss to his collarbone.

Once, she might have bitten, left a little mark, but since the outbreak, biting one another has sort of lost any amorous appeal. Thanks, cordyceps.

Still, the kiss there is intimate enough, considering. He doesn’t stop her, lets her hands wander down his chest, settling there for a moment before they slide under his shirt, fingertips tracing every old scar she can find, like she’s committing every inch of him to memory.

His hand - the one that isn’t occupied propping himself up, slides along her side, thumb rubbing circles on her hip. It’s the most he’s touched another person in months. Years, maybe. He can’t say he dislikes it; it’s unfamiliar, sure, to be touching another person in a caring and intimate way, but he’s certainly not opposed to it at all.

“Joel…”

He’s not entirely sure, but it almost sounds like a plea. One he’s more than happy to answer, letting his hand drift to the button of her jeans. He’s gotta admit, he’s glad he can get them undone with one hand, not wanting to appear as out of practise as he realistically is.

Her hands slide out of his shirt to help tug her jeans down, not fully off, but out of the way. Neither of them are stupid enough to undress fully, not in their surroundings. They’ll make do, and Lucy does, shaking one foot loose from her pants, keeping them looped around her other ankle. Their shirts can stay on, not wanting to waste time or expose themselves too fully.

As her hands move again, he leans down into another kiss; it’s his turn to nip at her lips this time, leaning right into her as she gets his jeans undone. It only takes her a moment, considering she has both her hands to work with.

Speaking of hands. He has one free, and he decides to make use of it, rubbing his fingers across her hips, now bare to him, just watching how she responds to each little touch. He doesn’t get much time to observe her, though; she seems far more interested in kissing him, which is fine, it’ll at least keep her relatively quiet as things progress. It’s a shame; honestly, he almost wishes they were back in his apartment in the QZ, or hers, somewhere where he could coax all sorts of interesting sounds out of her and not care about the volume. But things have changed, and they’re here now, and that necessitates they be as quick and quiet as possible.

It’s almost disappointing. He would have liked to take his time, but well. He’ll take the situation as it is. His fingers move inwards, across her thigh, slowly, teasing her, their lips still locked together, her tongue teasing at his bottom lip between kisses.

He can tease right back, letting his fingers slide between her thighs, pausing just before he reaches his target to break their kiss.

“Remember what I said about quiet.” He warns, a gentle reminder whispered into her ear. She hums her assent, her fingers carding through his silver streaked hair, as though she can’t get enough of just simply touching him.

He understands the feeling, truly, but he has other plans, beyond touching her hair. His fingers trail along her inner thigh, amused to find her already soaked and waiting for him. Amused, yes, but aroused, too; his thumb finds the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her core, rubs it slowly, watches her eyes widen, her teeth sink into her lip to keep herself from making a sound.

He finds himself smirking, just a little, rubbing slow little circles on her sensitive skin, fingers skimming across wetness, spreading it, coating his fingertips in it.

Her lips part in a silent gasp as he slowly slides two fingers inside her, giving her a warning look as he curls them, buried to the knuckle inside her soaked heat. He can feel himself aching against the fabric of his jeans; even unbuttoned, he feels constricted, a dull aching need throbbing in him.

“Been thinking about this for a while,” he admits, voice still low and sensual in her ear, “maybe not in this setting, but I’ll take it.”

He keeps slowly moving his fingers, pumping them in and out, agonisingly slow, wanting to watch her reaction, wanting her to beg him for more. He knows her well, knows her better than he’d like to admit, and he knows damn well she’ll crumble eventually.

It comes sooner than he expected; he can feel her tensing up, her back arched up, her chest pressing flush against his, her entire body trembling. And somehow, somehow, she manages to stay almost completely silent, burying her face in his chest to muffle the tiniest of whimpers that fall past her parted lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of her slowly, “just ride it out. You’re okay. I got you.”

Her whimpers fade as she recovers, lies back, gazes at him with half-shut, adoring eyes. Fuck, why has he never done this before? All this time…

He wipes his soaked fingers on his pants, pausing just a moment before he moves the offending fabric out the way, tugging them down slightly, freeing himself. He damn near sighs himself when her hand wraps around his length, stroking slowly, her thumb caressing the tip of him.

“I want you so bad,” she whispers, leaning up to kiss him softly, “you have no idea…”

He laughs, a quietly amused chuckle.

“I’m getting an idea, darling. Don’t worry. It’s nowhere near as much as I’ve wanted you.”

It feels wrong, in a way, how long he’s wanted her, since the first time they ventured out of the QZ together, since she proved herself a capable survivor, since she back talked him and brought a smile to his face.

Her impossibly soft mouth curves into a smile.

“Then take me,” she whispers against his lips, “I’m yours, Joel. All yours.”

As she speaks, her hand tightens slightly around him, guiding him between her legs, rubbing the head of his length against her dripping sex.

“Mine.” He repeats softly, before he sinks into her, slowly, inch by inch. He has the foresight to cover her mouth with his, to muffle the soft moan that falls from her lips.

Fuck, she feels so good. So warm and tight around him, her velvet walls tightening and pulsing as he buries himself to the hilt.

Her fingers ball into the flannel of his shirt as she returns his eager, desperate kiss, wrapping her freed leg around his waist loosely.

He breaks the kiss, takes a breath, before he slowly starts to move. Her head falls back against the sleeping mat, eyes half closed as her leg tightens around his waist, drawing him in deeper. In spite of himself, a low groan tears from his chest.

“Careful there, baby girl,” he murmurs, “careful.”

He’s warning himself as much as he is her, reminding himself to keep his head as best he can. It’s difficult, so difficult, when her fingers are curled in his shirt, when she’s so tight and wet around him, when her breathing is becoming more and more frantic as he starts to move again.

Lucy leans up to pull him against her, her lips brushing his throat.

“Joel…”

He understands what she’s asking, without her having to say it; he picks up the pace, lets his hips rock against hers a little harder, a little faster. He has to bury his face in her shoulder to muffle his own sounds; it’s been so long since he was intimate with someone, and she’s so desperate for him, one of her hands leaving his shirt to tangle in salt and pepper curls.

They’re both being pushed to the limit, trying to keep as silent as possible, not wanting to wake Ellie, trying to keep their noise as low as they possibly can, quieter than the low hum of the generator Bill kept down here, just in case, always switched on and wired to the security system.

“You feel so good,” Lucy whispers, lifts her leg slightly higher around his waist, wraps it tighter, keeping him buried inside her. Her voice shakes as she whispers it, as he keeps up the deep, steady thrusts, in and out of her.

“Mm, you have no idea, baby girl. No idea how good you feel. How are you so fucking wet?” He can’t help the low moan that he lets out into her ear as his hips steadily collide with hers, harder and faster, chasing both of their release.

She can’t answer, not a full word, only tiny whimpers as she clings to him, raking her fingers through his hair. She can’t get enough of touching him, of feeling him close to her, the scratch of his beard on the skin of her throat.

“So close…” she whispers, back arched up against him, “don’t stop…”

“Not a chance, baby girl. Not a chance.” He murmurs, picking up his pace once again. Chances are he’ll feel this in his lower back and his hips tomorrow, but he’s beyond caring. All that matters is her, and the pleasure building between them, and her soft, soft mouth, kissing at every inch of him she can reach.

His mouth finds hers, captures it in a deep kiss, letting his tongue sweep her mouth as she clings to him, feels her tighten around him, feels her entire body tremble as he brings her to a steady climax, feels her soak every inch of his length as he buries himself to the very hilt inside her. Her moans and whimpers of pure pleasure are muffled by their kiss, her hand tightening in his hair for the briefest moment before she goes limp, lets her hand fall from his hair, caressing his face gently before her hand falls.

“I know baby, I know. Let go for me,” he murmurs, presses a kiss to her forehead, “that’s it, darling, breathe through it…”

She whimpers again, links her fingers with his.

Regrettably, Joel realises he can’t hold back much longer, not with how tight she is, the fluttering of her around him. His mind is hazy with pleasure, becoming more and more clouded with each snap of his hips.

He presses deep one final time, rolls his hips into hers slowly, before he reluctantly pulls out of her warm heat, spilling his release onto her stomach with a low groan against her lips.

The temptation to finish inside her had been overwhelming, but he wasn’t about to risk any complications. Not in this world.

Joel rests his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. Lucy glances over to ensure they’re still as alone as they can be, before she exhales, sighs, looks down at their joined hands and smiles weakly.

“That’s it,” he sighs, “fuck…”

He’s most certainly going to feel this in the morning, but he’s in no rush to roll away from her; he moves so he’s no longer on top of her, tucks himself back into his jeans and gives her a moment to pull her own pants back on. Once she’s redressed, he pulls her right back into his arms, inhaling the scent of her hair, their mingled sweat.

“You alright there, old timer?” She whispers, pure tease and thinly veiled adoration.

Joel huffs.

“This old timer just made you come so hard you went limp. Smartass.” He kisses her forehead and she giggles softly.

“Yeah, but I’m your smartass.” Her fingers trace the lines of his face, committing every little wrinkle and detail to memory. Just in case.

“True enough,” he agrees, pulling her closer against his chest.

Joel isn’t one to half ass things; he’s a stoic bastard at times, sure, but he’s protective as hell when he cares, and hell, he cares about her. He wasn’t kidding when he said she was his, and they both know it.

“Joel?” There’s a hesitation in her voice as she says his name. It’s a harsh contrast to the soft, adoring reverence with which she spoke minutes before.

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna pretend this never happened in the morning?” There’s a raw fear in the way she asks it, the way she doesn’t sugarcoat it or dress it up. He likes that about her. That she’s brutally honest.

“No.” He says finally, “there’s no going back. I’m not gonna shut you out like that. It’s… not easy for me. You know that. But … for you? I’ll try.”

“I know it’s not easy.” She agrees, fingertips tracing in his hair, her other hand splayed on his chest, “I just… that’s all I want. For you to try. I just want you.”

“I know. Don’t worry, baby girl. You’ve got me.” He presses a soft kiss to her lips before he kisses her forehead once more.

He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. Not to her. Never to her.

She hums happy agreement, “You know you’ve got me. Til the very end.”

“I know.” He assures her, shifts the blankets tighter around them. “Try get some sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake up. Then we can hit the road.”

“Hmm,” she sighs, nuzzles her face into his shoulder. “You should get some sleep too.”

“I plan on it. Someone tired me out.” He chuckles, surprised at his own good mood, in spite of everything he’s lost recently.

“Your own fault.” Lucy replies, her voice heavy with sleepiness as she settles against him.

Try as he might to fight his own fatigue, he can feel it overwhelming him. He’s exhausted, warm and comfortable, and the weight of her in his arms is so goddamn inviting.

“Not a fault.” He mumbles, but she’s already asleep, unable to answer him.

———

Morning dawns, but Joel is awake long before he originally planned to be. He wants to take an inventory of supplies, pack up Bill’s truck, and hit the road, but first he wants to allow himself a moment.

It’s been so long since he simply lay in a bed with someone, let alone allowed himself to hold someone in such an intimate way.

Lucy’s still asleep, her head tucked on his shoulder, arm draped over him, legs tangled with his. They’ve shared a bed before, but only for necessity. Never have they allowed themselves to become intimate before, and now…

If he thought he was protective of her before, it’s nothing compared to the dull ache in his chest whenever he looks down at her now, taking in every detail of her sleeping face.

“I’m yours,” she had said, “all yours.”

There had been so much longing in her voice, going beyond lust and physical need. He doesn’t think he deserves it, and yet. And yet he isn’t going to refuse her. Not when he so desperately, deeply, needs her to be his.

He sighs. Presses a kiss to her forehead, untangles himself from her just as she stirs.

“Time to get going?” She asks, her voice thick and heavy with sleep.

“Yeah. Time to pack up and move on.” He almost wishes they could stay in this stupid bunker for a little longer, but that’s not their path. Wyoming calls. His brother waits.

Lucy doesn’t argue, just sits herself up, untangles her hair, braids it back and slips her boots on.

“I’ll pack up some supplies from down here.” She offers. He likes that about her; she asked him for reassurance before they slept, but she’s not about to ask for it every five minutes. They both know everything’s changed between them now, but simultaneously, nothing has. All they’ve really done is act on what was already there.

“Great idea. Some rations, some ammo. Whatever you think we need.” Joel shoves his own shoes on, surveys the monitors for a moment. All quiet.

“I’ll get Ellie ready, too.”

“I’ll fuel up the truck, pack a few things. Come on up when you’re ready.” Almost without thinking, he drops a kiss to her lips on his way past, climbs the ladder, pushes the bunker door open, and disappears into the morning light.

Lucy stares after him for a moment before she’s interrupted by a soft snicker. Turning, she finds Ellie sitting up and staring at her, grinning.

“What?”

“I fuckin’ knew you two were a thing.” Ellie shrugs, unravels herself from her blanket and tosses her jacket over her shoulders.

“Wh-?” Lucy doesn’t even try to deny it.

“I saw that. And I see the way you two look at each other. It’s gross. You’re both old.” Ellie makes a face as she starts to pack MRE rations into her backpack.

“I’m not that old!” Lucy protests, somewhat lamely.

“Not as old as Joel, that’s for sure.” Ellie smirks, then laughs when Lucy opens her mouth. “I’m just fucking with you. I don’t care. Maybe it’ll get him to stop being such a stone cold asshole.”

Lucy laughs in spite of herself, stocks her own backpack with another box of ammunition for her new rifle and her handgun, before shoving a few rations of her own on top.

“Not gonna argue there,” she agrees, “c‘mon. He’s fuelling up so we can leave. Let’s go.”

“Back to the road. Yay.” Ellie sticks her tongue out, takes one last look around the bunker, then heads for the ladder.

Lucy follows her, taking one last look at the rumpled sleeping mat on the floor, a small smile crossing her face.

She’s not sure where they’ll go from here, but it doesn’t matter. She has Joel, and he has her, and that’s all that matters right now.

#my writing #rue unconditionally #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal characters #tagged: jocy

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

after - part twenty-six

you leave lincoln behind, and joel makes you a promise.

a/n: SHE’S BACK BABY. I’m pretty much done with ep 4 (and we are bleeding into part 5) but fuck I’ve missed writing these two. hope you’re all ready 🤍

word count: 5.6k

warnings: if you’ve been reading this far, you know the drill.

✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨

She’s been in there a while.

Your eyes keep darting to the gas station bathroom, the door only kept in place by one hinge. Ellie had made a bee-line for the building as soon as the truck had rolled to a stop, Joel declaring the need for gas once again.

It’s the second time you’ve stopped since leaving Lincoln, and the strange, gnawing feeling in your chest that had crept up as the gate slid shut hasn’t lessened. If anything, it’s only gotten worse, now twinged with anxiety as you stare in the direction Ellie disappeared.

“She’s fine, Liv,” Joel grunts, waving his hand as he crouches beside another car. “If there was something in there, we woulda heard it by now.”

His words don’t help.

You let it get the better of you, and push off where you’d been leaning against the truck, hand resting on the gun at your hip. Joel calls your name, but you ignore him, striding towards the building. You call out as your fingers curl around the doorknob, pushing the wobbly door open.

“Ellie?”

The door swings inward to reveal her standing in front of a mostly-shattered mirror, the sink in front of it decayed and cracked. You’re surprised it even supports the weight of her bag as she fumbles for it, cursing under her breath. She has the gun in her hand, the one she took from Bill and Frank’s, and you can see the worry in her face as she tries to stash it quickly, thinking you’re Joel.

When she sees it’s you and not him, her face softens. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey,” you say, glancing over your shoulder before stepping through the door. Joel’s preoccupied with siphoning the gas still, paying you little mind. You know he’s always watching, but you’re out of sight for now. “You even know how to use that thing?”

Something like relief pools in your gut when the kid nods, stuffing the gun into her backpack and yanking the zipper shut. “They teach us in FEDRA school. The minds of today are the soldiers of tomorrow, or some bullshit like that.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “That does sound like bullshit.” You jut your chin towards her. “You shot one of those?”

She nods again. “Something like it.”

“Alright,” you nod, jutting your thumb over your shoulder. “Joel’s almost done, we should get back outside.”

“Okay.”

You’re barely out of the doorframe when Ellie calls your name. “Liv?”

“Yeah?” you ask, turning back, your hand on the doorknob again.

“You’re not gonna tell Joel, right?” she asks, those dark eyes of hers going shiny at the edges. “About the gun, I mean.”

You school your face blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.”

She just smiles.

You head back outside as Joel moves onto his third car. Ellie follows behind, the pair of you stepping through the mess of abandoned vehicles until you’re standing beside Joel. He flicks the little door to the gas tank open, turns the cap until it pops out. “We have to do this every hour?” Ellie asks, glancing between you, and you shrug.

“Gas breaks down over time,” Joel supplies, pushing the hose into the tank. “This stuff’s almost water. Back in the day, we’d drive ten, twelve hours on one tank. You could go anywhere.”

“So where’d you go?” she asks.

You shrug again, then scoff. “Boston.”

She looks at Joel, and his eyes drop. “Nowhere.”

Joel slips the end of the second hose past his lips, blowing air into it, and as the gas funnels out, Ellie gapes. “Nice! How does that work?”

“It’s a siphon,” Joel tells her, like that’s explanation enough, but when she lifts a hand, prompting him further, he stumbles. ��It’s when liquid…travels against gravity, because pressure—”

“You don’t know,” Ellie quips, and you bark a laugh.

Joel shoots daggers in your direction and you mumble out a sorry. He looks back to Ellie. “I know it works.”

Satisfied with herself, Ellie steps away from the pair of you, clearly wanting to start wandering again. “Hey, don’t go far,” you call to her.

“How about no wanderin’ at all,” Joel calls, his voice a little louder than yours.

It’s your turn to shoot daggers at him.

With a huff, Ellie turns on her heel, coming to stand between the car Joel’s siphoning gas from and the one you’re leaning against. “Fine,” she sighs, slinging her bag off her shoulders and setting it on the trunk beside your elbow. She looks at Joel over her shoulder. “This is your fault then.”

His brow is so deeply creased as he stares at the kid, and then you, confusion plain as day on his face. You stifle another laugh as Ellie unzips her bag and pulls a thin, worn book from its depths. She cracks it open with a flourish, and clears her throat.

“It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope,” she declares, in a tone almost like an announcer’s, “it’ll still be stationery.”

She giggles, and Joel’s brow gets impossibly more furrowed. You can’t stop your chuckle now.

They’re puns.

“No Pun Intended, Volume Too,” she shows you, brandishing the book like she’s Vanna White, “by Will Livingston.” She turns the book to Joel, pointing out the title. “Volume Too. Look, you get it? Too. Like t-o-o.”

“Jesus,” Joel grunts, and holds out his hand to you. You take it, hauling him to his feet as Ellie continues.

“What did the mermaid wear to her math class?”

“Oh, I know this!” you laugh, ignoring the withering look Joel’s giving you. “C-shells?”

Ellie beams, pleased as anything that you’re playing along. “Nope, an algae bra!”

She dissolves into giggles and you can’t help yourself, laughing along with her. Joel rolls his eyes, shaking his head as you lean against the car, unable to stop giggling right along with her.

Ellie reads another one: “I stayed up all night, wondering where the sun went, and then it dawned on me.”

“No,” Joel says, shaking his head at you. You reach for his arm, laughing so hard your sides hurt, and he keeps shaking his head, but you can see the tiniest of quirks at the corner of his mouth. And try as he might, he can’t hide the smile in his eyes. “Feel free to wait in the truck, both of you.”

“Joel,” you chastise around your laughter, pinching his arm. “Don’t be a grump.”

It takes a moment for you both to calm down, Ellie’s giggles dissolving into a fake-serious look at Joel. “Fine, but just know, you can’t escape Will Livingston. He’ll be back, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

You’re still giggling quietly as she stuffs the book back in her bag, and the wind starts to pick up, whipping across the empty gas station. Joel lifts his arm as Ellie heads back to the truck and you tuck yourself under it, sliding your arms around his middle. “Weird fuckin’ kid.”

“She’s funny,” you reply, tilting your head back to look him in the face. “Give her a chance, Joel.” He doesn’t say anything, his jaw going tight, and you reach for his wrist, brushing your hand over his watch.

Twenty minutes later, you’re back on the road. Ellie takes the backseat this time, you in the passenger’s seat, inspecting the maps you’d pilfered from Bill’s bunker. Joel feels better to be back in the truck, back on the road. Stopping even as briefly as you did made him uneasy, especially being out in the open like that. He’s got more than enough ammunition in the truck, but still.

He watches you from the corner of his eye as he drives, his focus shifting between you and the road. There’s something different about you, since you left Lincoln. He sees it in brief moments, flickers in your face. Bravery maybe, but something tells him it’s more than that, more feral, more akin to the strange thing he’s feeling, too. He wants to ask you, to try and put what he’s experiencing into words, but he doesn’t know how.

And he doesn’t want the kid to hear.

The curiosity hasn’t stopped, but Joel’s trying to be patient. The kid hasn’t known anything besides the QZ, and reduced to the shitty FEDRA school at that. The outside world may as well be an entirely different planet. One littered with long-abandoned vehicles, and currently, she wants to know how the roads have been cleared, all the cars and vans and trucks pushed off to the sides.

“Big trucks,” you supply, not looking up from your map. “Really big.”

“Must have been huge,” Ellie replies, turned in her seat, peering out the back window.

One hand on the wheel, Joel lets his free one slip down, moving across the gear shift until it’s close to you, palm up. You don’t look, but your hand slides over his a moment later, fingers twining with his while you balance the map on your legs, tracing the path with your finger. “Yeah,” Joel answers, eyes moving back to the road ahead, “they used to stick these giant plows on them, and clear the roads for their tanks and such.”

Ellie spins around so quick he worries she’ll get whiplash. “I wanna see a tank!”

“You will,” he answers, forcing himself to frown, if only to keep from grinning at her naive enthusiasm. “Tanks, choppers, all that stuff. But they’ll fight the wrong enemy, just scattered around now.”

She goes quiet, and you keep tracing different paths. Far too many ways to get to Wyoming. Another moment, and the kid leans forward, brandishing a cassette tape. “I got somethin’. Does this make you all nostalgic?”

She hands him the tape, the movement pulling Joel’s hand from yours, and it catches your attention. “This is actually before my time,” he tells her, and from the corner of his eye, he sees you grin.

Ellie huffs, leaning back. “Great.”

“It’s a winner, though,” he declares, and hits the eject button, putting the Linda Ronstadt in the empty cup holder and popping Hank Williams in.

“Really?” you ask, squinting at Joel as he turns up the volume, slips his hand back into yours. Alone and Forsaken wafts from the speakers, and in the rearview, he can see Ellie’s less-than-impressed face. “Hank Williams?”

“What?” he asks, squeezing your fingers. “It’s classic.”

“Whatever you say, old man,” you quip, and when he pinches your knee, you laugh.

Unenthused by the music, Ellie starts digging around the backseat again. “Found something else,” she announces, and the ruffle of paper drowns out the music for a moment. “It’s a little light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures.”

Glancing up, Joel sees just what she’s looking at in the rearview, and her wide-eyed expression. His face heats. Oh god. “Oh. No, no, no, no, put that back, that’s not for kids, Ellie—”

“How’d he even walk around with that thing?” she nearly shouts, and you bark a laugh, tucking the map away.

“Ellie, put it away,” you say around another laugh, but when you reach for the porn mag, she holds it out of reach.

“Please get rid of it!” Joel nearly shouts.

“Hold your horses!” she shouts back. “I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

An awkward silence settles over the truck. Joel has both hands on the wheel now, white-knuckled, and you have your knees up to your chest, your face buried in your hands, absolutely losing it. Joel presses his lips together, forcing himself not to smile.

“Why are all these pages stuck together?” Ellie asks, and all the blood drains from his face.

“Uhhhhhhhh…the—”

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya!” Ellie laughs, and you’re laughing so hard no sound is coming out of you as Ellie smacks Joel in the shoulder with the porn mag before leaning over to roll down the window. She flings it outside. “Bye-bye, dude!”

The kid sinks back into her seat, a smug smile when she meets Joel’s eyes in the rearview. You’re still shaking with laughter, wiping your eyes on the back of your hand, and Joel stuffs down his gratitude.

It’s been a long time since he heard you laugh like that.

The next silence that settles is more comfortable. Joel still feels on edge, to a degree, his eyes scanning the edges of the road as the truck rumbles along it. You have enough gas for now, he decides silently, tallying the gallons he’d siphoned in his head. Enough to find a spot to camp for the night, get back on the road in the morning. It’s enough for now.

His hand slides back into yours, and the decaying world whips past on either side of the truck, blurring in the windows. Herds of buffalo wander the edges of the asphalt when the road turns into highway, and Joel wonders how long they’ve been out here, if there was a farm or a reserve that once held them.

You pass an amusement park, the structures of the rides and roller coasters still stretching towards the sky. He hears Ellie’s quiet awe from the backseat, her energy a bit more muted since the laughter that had ensued over the porn mag.

Nestled between his, your fingers twitch, and it takes Joel a moment to realize you’re asleep, your head on his shoulder, free hand curled around his forearm.

It sparks a memory, coupled with the amusement park outside the window, and for once, he lets it in.

“Liv, c’mon!” Sarah shouted. She was giddy with excitement, hadn’t stopped talking about your visit the moment Joel had announced it. And when she saw the flyers for the Fourth of July carnival in town, the excitement had only doubled. “I wanna do the spinny teacups first!”

She pulled on your hand, the one not intertwined with Joel’s, and you looked up at him, an almost apologetic look on your face as you let his daughter haul you off, fingers slipping off the ends of his.

“Go,” he told you, chuckling around the word. “I’ll catch up.”

He stared at your backs until you disappeared into the crowds, the carnival lights tinting his vision different colours. It was packed, every soul in Austin jammed into the same open field, filled with those cheesy carnival games that took too many tries to win anything half decent, a myriad of rides run by solemn-looking teenagers just trying to earn a buck. Classic.

He’d picked you up from the airport a few days prior, your name scrawled on the back of some random work order form he’d found in his truck, a bouquet of daisies from the supermarket in his hand. He wanted to get you something more extravagant, more telling of just how much he’d missed you, how happy he was to have you back home, but money was tight, and he couldn’t…

The tears on your face when you kissed him hello whisked some of the guilt away.

You were doing your best to split your time evenly between your own home and his. Anna had missed you dearly and had to fill you in on everything, apparently, and you’d spent one of your afternoons at the hardware store with your dad. But every night so far had found you back in Joel’s bed.

Where you belonged.

Tommy materialized out of the crowd, cigarette dangling from his lips, beer bottle in hand. “My brother!” he called, sidling up to Joel, slinging his arm around his neck. “So? Did ya ask her yet?”

“Put that thing out,” he quipped, elbowing his brother in the stomach. “You drunk already?”

“Oh, c’mon, you stiff! It’s the Fourth of July! It demands beer and revelry.” But Tommy dropped the cigarette, stubbing it out beneath the heel of his boot.

He squinted at his brother. “Do you even know what revelry means?”

“Fuck you,” Tommy shot back, tightening his grip on Joel’s neck, fake-punching him in the stomach. “Where’s your girl at?”

“Sarah dragged her off to the rides,” he replies, jutting his chin towards the spinning teacups. Tommy falls into step with him, and they make their way over. Joel spots you easily, Sarah still tugging on your arm, telling you some story or another that you’re listening to intently. “I see ‘em.”

“You didn’t answer me,” Tommy said, the pair of them leaning onto the metal fence that surrounded the ride. You were almost at the front of the line, and Sarah was bouncing on her toes with excitement. “Did you ask her yet?”

“No,” he grumbled back, wishing his brother would just drop it.

“Well, are you gonna? She goes back to Boston in what, a week?”

“Eight days.”

“Eight days,” Tommy repeated, gesturing with his beer bottle, trying to make a point. “You gonna waste ‘em and let her go again?”

“I’m not—” Joel started, but cut himself off. Something twisted at his stomach, putting a sour expression on his face. “I’m not wastin�� it, Tommy. It’s not that damn simple.”

“Nothin’ ever is, big brother. You taught me that.”

Joel just shook his head. The ride spun to a stop, letting the current riders off, and once they were clear, the guy manning the ride opened the gate, letting you out of the lineup. He watched as you handed him the tickets for you and Sarah, and she grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the teacup painted teal and lavender.

You spotted him once you were settled inside, you and Sarah side by side, and you both lifted your hands to wave. Tommy whistled loudly, waving along with him, and then the ride whirred to life. He could see the instant shift from excitement to terror on Sarah’s face, and she gripped your arm tightly, leaning her head on your shoulder. You put your arm around her as the cup started to spin, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching you both as the ride spun around and around.

It took a few turns, but Sarah’s excitement returned, and soon enough he could hear your laughter even from where he stood, his hands clasped in front of him on the fence.

You both came off the ride giggling like mad, and Tommy offered himself up as Sarah’s next ride partner, leading her toward the bumper cars while Joel turned you toward the ferris wheel.

As the wheel turned, lifting you to the very top, giving you the perfect view of the carnival below, he heard your quiet gasp, and you laid your head on his shoulder, your hands intertwined in his lap. Something in him twisted.

Ask her.

But he froze.

Later, after the sun had completely set and you’d all found good places to sit and watch the fireworks show, it happened again. You said hello to your parents, found a handful of sparklers for Sarah while she ran around with the other kids, waiting for the fireworks to start.

As the first colourful explosions lit the sky, it happened again.

Ask her.

He opened his mouth, turned his head until his chin touched the crown of your head. But no words came out.

Even later, when you were back home — his home — and intertwined in his bed. Bodies bare and just the sheet pulled over you both, the window open to let in the cool evening air. The carnival fireworks were long over, but he could hear the distant popping, little sparks of light illuminating the sky. You were curled up beside him, your head on his shoulder.

Ask her, the thing in him shouted. Ask her to stay.

The words were right there, on the tip of his tongue. Stay with me. Be with me. Don’t leave me again.

You stirred, your head lifting, and he found your eyes in the dark. “Y’okay, darlin’?”

“Peachy,” you mumbled, an easy smile on your face. “Kiss me?”

He did as you asked.

Eight days later, he watched from the curb as you headed into the airport, your kiss still imprinted on his lips, a teary glance shot over your shoulder.

He never asked.

He has you now, he reminds himself, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. He’s done unspeakable things to keep you, bought himself a one-way ticket to hell with his selfishness, he’s sure, but it doesn’t matter.

You are the only thing that ever did. Ever has.

Joel’s eyes flick up to the rearview, seeing Ellie leaned back in her seat, her eyes glued to the world outside the window. After a few hours, you wake with a yawn, turning to rub your nose against Joel’s bicep, shoving your hand through your hair. Ellie’s leaning forward now, her cheek resting on the back of your seat, watching through the front windshield instead.

It’s getting late, and Joel doesn’t like how dark it’s getting. He doesn’t want to waste the truck battery on the headlights, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to be dodging cars in the dark. “All right,” he says as you sit up, stretching your arms over your head. Ellie straightens behind you, tiredness clear on her face. “That’s enough for today.”

He spots a break in the trees, and turns the truck off the road, into a clearing. The grass gives way easily beneath the truck tires, and he lets it roll across the ground, heading towards the denser forest, finding a smaller open space to park. You’re all quiet as he cuts the engine, both of you slipping out of the truck at the same time, hands hovering over holsters. But all that greets you outside the cab of the truck is soft birdsong, the quiet noise of the wind through the trees.

Joel pulls the rifle he’d taken from Bill’s bunker out of the truck, and starts making the rounds, walking a perimeter through the trees. Distantly, he can hear you and Ellie chatting, you asking for her help to get the camping stove out, sorting through some of the cans you’d packed. It’s not long before you’re calling for him, telling him to put the gun away and eat something.

He pecks your cheek in thanks when you hand him the plate of ravioli. Ellie already has her plate, fork in hand, and is shovelling it into her mouth. “You can slow down, kid,” you laugh, both you and Joel sinking to the ground near her, aching knees touching. “No one’s gonna take it from you, I swear.”

“This is slow,” she shoots back, talking around a mouthful. “What even is this?”

“Twenty-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli,” you answer, and Joel sees the slight curve to the corner of your mouth as you speak.

“That guy was good,” Ellie comments, her mouth now completely full.

Joel huffs a little laugh. “I actually agree.”

It goes quiet for a moment, nature filling in the silence, the sounds of your forks hitting the plates the only man-made noise. Joel eats, his stomach grateful for the food, and he’s distantly reminded of eating the same thing back in Austin, nights when he was too tired to cook, or Sarah had taken it upon herself to make dinner, and he’d come home to a plate similar to this one.

“How long are we staying out here?” Ellie asks, breaking the quiet, and she’s looking at you.

Your eyes cut to Joel. “What d’you think? We sleep tonight, drive in shifts tomorrow, all day and all night? Should get us to Wyoming by the next morning if we don’t stop too often.”

Joel nods, swallowing down another bite. “We’ll have to keep stoppin’ for gas, but it doesn’t take long.”

“Can we start a fire, then?” Ellie asks, digging back into her food. “I’m freezing.”

Joel squints at the kid, nearly dropping his fork. “Now, why am I gonna tell you no?”

He hears your quiet Joel, your tone warning. But Ellie sighs, rolls her eyes a bit. “Because Infected will see the smoke.”

It’s a good answer, and he has to remind himself that she’s just a kid, she doesn’t know. She hasn’t been out in it like you both have, all these years. “No,” he tells her, and tries to curb his tone, but your elbow dug into his knee tells him it’s not enough. “Fungus isn’t that smart. This is too remote for Infected, anyway.”

You breathe a sigh, and as Joel finishes what’s on his plate, you offer him the rest of yours. He opens his mouth to protest, but you shake your head. “Take it.”

When he looks up again, he can see the realization passing over Ellie’s face. “People?”

He just nods.

“So what are they gonna do?” she asks, her fork moving a bit slower now, a hint of fear in her face. “Rob us?”

“No,” you answer before Joel can, reaching for one of the water bottles you put on the ground between you. “They’ll have other things in mind. Worse things.”

Ellie swallows so hard Joel can see her throat bob, but she nods, understanding. “Okay. No fire.”

It’s not long before the sun dips completely, and the forest sinks into the dark, the spaces beyond the trees turning to pure shadow. It gets cold quickly, and you fish an extra hoodie out of the truck for Ellie, a fleece pullover for yourself. You offer Joel a sweater his size, but he shakes his head.

By the light of a camping lantern, you spread out sleeping bags and an extra blanket for you and Joel. Ellie moves a bit awkwardly, clearly taking hints from you as she unzips the sleeping bag Joel had handed her. “It kinda smells good, actually.”

“Well, that would be Frank’s then,” Joel says and she laughs in response.

Joel checks the barrel of the rifle as you settle onto the blanket, pulling off one of your boots and rubbing at your ankle. He sets the gun down on his side of the sleeping bag, and you pull your knife from your belt, setting it beside the rifle. Joel gestures to your foot, jutting his chin towards it, and with a bit of a huff, you extend your leg to him, until your ankle is resting in his lap. “Sore?”

“Same one I twisted on the way out of the QZ,” you answer, and Joel nods, remembering. “It was fine when we were still in Boston, and even in Lincoln. Just acting up, is all.”

His brow furrows as he pushes up the cuff of your jeans, pulls down your thick socks. You make a little pained noise as he wraps his finger around your ankle, testing. He cups one palm under your heel, rubs his thumb into the skin beside the bone of your ankle, right where the little butterfly is tattooed, and when he gives a little more pressure, your head tips back, the whimpers giving way to a soft moan. The corner of his mouth lifts.

He can feel Ellie watching from her sleeping bag, and when he glances her way, she immediately averts her eyes, busying herself with pulling something out of her bag. He rubs your ankle a few minutes longer, until you push at his hands, leaning across the space between you to kiss one of the bare patches in his beard. “Thank you, baby.”

With a soft grunt, he turns his head, gives you a soft peck before you’re both shuffling into the sleeping bag, arranging the other blanket around you. Ellie turns out the camping lantern, and Joel rolls away from you, his good ear up. You curl into his back, your nose pressed to the top of your spine, one arm slung around his middle. The sound of the forest filters through the night, the birds replaced with crickets, the occasional snapping of twigs making his hands twitch towards the rifle.

He’s almost asleep, and then he hears the kid. “Hey, Liv?”

You turn, your breath hot against the back of his neck as you sigh, your arm still glued to his waist. “Yes, Ellie?”

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

He can almost see your eyes roll. “Is it a serious question or is it one of your puns?”

Ellie sighs, pauses, but then, “Why did the scarecrow get an award?”

You turn back, shaking your head as you bury your face in Joel’s shoulder. But then he turns, looking at Ellie through the soft darkness, seeing the shit-eating grin on her face. “Because he was outstanding in his field,” he answers.

You sputter a giggle against his back, and Ellie sits up, laughing. “You dick! Did you read this?”

Joel turns over again, hiding his grin, feeling your grip on him tighten, the soft shake of your quiet laughter against his back. “No,” he calls back to her. “Now go to sleep.”

He can hear the ruffle of her sleeping bag, and your giggles subside, the tip of your nose tracing the dips in his spine as you settle again. It’s a few minutes before Ellie speaks again, and for a moment, Joel thinks you’ve passed out, but he feels you bristle as she calls. “Hey, Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“Those people you said…there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s gonna find us.”

“No one’s gonna find us,” he repeats, and reaches down to cover your hand with his, squeezing your fingers.

“Okay,” she whispers, barely audible, and he hears the shuffle of her sleeping bag once again.

Before Joel can get a word out, he feels you start to move, your arm moving from his waist, and it takes a second for him to realize you’re sliding out of the sleeping bag, arranging the blanket more securely around him. He calls your name as you step over his legs, bending down to pick up the rifle.

“Get some sleep,” you tell him, loading the gun as you straighten, and for a moment, he’s struck dumb by the power in your stance, even in the dark. The force that is Olivia Miller. “I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

He wakes before you have the chance to wake him yourself. It’s still dark as anything, your watch telling you it’s nearly three in the morning, and Joel murmurs your name, announcing his presence before you feel the soft flannel blanket around your shoulders, the material warm from where you’d left it wrapped around Joel.

“Here,” he mumbles, draping his arms around you with the blanket. Your hands shuffle together, Joel taking the rifle as you curl your fingers in the edge of the blanket. “Go lie down, baby. I can keep watch till morning.”

“I’ll take the first shift for driving,” you tell him, unable to resist leaning your tired form back into his body. He presses a soft kiss to the edge of your jaw, and you turn your head to kiss his lips. “Your back okay?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shaking his head softly. He reaches up, brushes hair from your face. “Anything happen?”

“Few bunnies, couple squirrels, nothing exciting,” you tell him. “Hope it stays that way.”

“Me, too.”

He starts to turn you towards your makeshift camp, the all-too-inviting sleeping bag you know will still be warm from his body, just like the blanket. But you stop, curling your hand around his wrist. “Joel, wait.”

“What is it, Liv?”

“I was…I was thinking, and I think I need you to promise me something.”

Even in the dark, you can see how his brow furrows, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching up and smoothing your thumb over the dip that forms in his skin. His free hand rests on your upper arm, palm moving up and down over the blanket. “Anything you need, baby. You know that.”

You nod, swallowing hard. You’d thought this over a million times as you kept watch, what you’d say to him, how you’d word it. It’s all gone out the window, removed from your mind as those dark eyes of his meet yours, curiosity in the perfect shade of brown, tinged with concern.

“I need you to promise me, that if anything happens to either of us, if we get separated or something, then we get Ellie somewhere safe first.”

He balks. His hand freezes, his fingers digging into you slightly.

You take a shaky breath. “We’re fucking capable people, Joel. You know that. She shouldn’t have to be; she’s just a kid, she didn’t ask for any of this. All I’m asking, is that if anything happens, you get her somewhere safe, and once you’re sure she’s okay, then you come back for me.”

His eyes go tight, his jaw clenched as he shakes his head once. “I won’t lose you, Liv.”

“You’re right,” you answer, reaching up with both hands, cupping his jaw in your palms. “You won’t. You know that, and I know that. The whole world fell apart and we still managed to find each other again. But the kid…we have lost too much, Joel. Both of us. And she…”

It’s Tess’s voice in your head. She can fix it. Make up for all the bad shit we did.

“Liv…”

“Please, Joel. Promise me.”

“Fine,” he grits out, reaching a hand up to curl around the back of your neck, hauling you close. You go willingly, your fingers digging into his beard, scratching light against his cheeks. “But it works both ways.”

You nod. “No questions asked.”

“No questions asked,” he repeats and you lift your jaw, catching his lips with yours. The kiss is deep, hard, the press of his fingers beneath your ears, his palm cradling your head. He doesn’t give you the time to say it out loud, so you pour the words into the kiss instead.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

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