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auteurdelabre · 15 days

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SO MUCH TO LOSE - CHAPTER 8 - Dark!Joel x f!Reader

rating is 18+ folks! words: 6.8k pairing: dark!Joel x f!Reader tags: Mentions of past trauma (Sarah death), Dan Brown, sexual tension, mentions of alcohol, Joel has PTSD. NO use of y/n. A/N: I got some amazing comments here and on A03 where one user breaks down each chapter and highlights what they liked with hilarious commentary and I'll be honest its what has me tip tapping away so quick! Please be sure to spread the love and leave a comment! masterlist here --------------------

Chapter 8: Shoulder to Shoulder

You're halfway through your latest acquisition, The DaVinci Code, a book Jennifer lent you last week. You're so engrossed in a world so unlike your own that you're startled when Ellie slaps herself across from you at the table, barking out your name.

"When are we baking?"

"I gave Joel the list the last time I saw him," you tell her honestly. "As soon as he has the ingredients we can do it."

Ellie sighs, slumping in irritation.

"Who knows when that'll be," she groans. "He takes forever to do stuff."

You watch as her posture suddenly stiffens, her eyes peering over your shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"Dina." Ellie sneers. "She's so annoying."

Your glance over your shoulder to see Dina laughing with a group of teens. Your eyes dart back to Ellie's face to see her cheeks are flushed and she's still staring over your shoulder.

"Ellie, have you ever heard the saying that there's a fine line between love and hate?"

"No."

"When I was your age it was the people that I pretended not to like that I actually did," you tell her sagely. Ellie wrinkles her nose.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I wonder if you might have feelings for Dina," you say softly. "Romantic feelings."

You don't want to scare her, but you also can sense that there's something there.

"She's a girl," Ellie laughs, but her smile is flat.

"So?"

"So I'm a girl," Ellie tells you as if you're dim.

"Girls can like girls."

Judging by the way Ellie stares at you, this concept is either foreign to her or she doesn't want to share this part of herself with you just yet.

You see the way Ellie squirms in her seat, her cheeks pinking and you decide to drop the subject. You go back to your book, chewing your oatmeal slowly. You feel Ellie's eyes on you.

"Could you come over this week anyway?" She asks, eyes wide. "We could make those paper flowers like you made for Maria?"

The thought of being in Joel's home so close to your last interaction with him makes you work hard to hold back your grimace.

"Why don't you come to mine?" You ask, trying to sound neutral. "I have all the supplies there."

"Okay, I'll tell Joel," Ellie is smiling brightly. "And maybe-"

Before she can finish you hear your name being called. Ellie's scowl is back as she watches Jennifer round on the table, her tray filled with eggs, oatmeal and tea. Behind her is Luke is giving you both a shy smile.

"Morning guys," Jennifer says brightly. "Mind if we join you?"

"I'll let you know when Joel gets the stuff," Ellie mutters to you, preparing to stand. "See you later."

"You don't have to leave," Jennifer insists in a saccharine tone you just know Ellie despises.

Ellie mutters about needing to get to school, sliding off the bench seat and moving past Jennifer who tries to throw a smile her way.

"Bye Ellie."

Jennifer slides her tray across from you, slumping into her seat, obviously disappointed. Luke takes the empty bench seat next to her, his eyes on his food.

"She hates me," Jennifer says with a frown.

"Nah she's just shy," you lie, not wanting Jennifer's feelings to be hurt. She gives you a knowing smile before looking at the novel in your hands.

"You enjoying the book?"

"Yeah, thanks for lending it to me," you say with a smile.

"I liked his first one Angels and Demons,” Luke offers gently when he sees what you’re reading, his voice a husky murmur. You like how he doesn't quite meet anyone's eyes when he talks. It's endearing.

"I’ve never read his stuff before,” you offer. “Not particularly good writing, but it’s nice to read about somewhere that isn’t all raiders and clickers.”

Jennifer watches the two of you as she sips her tea, her light eyes volleying between the two of you as you talk about the book.

"I thought Luke could shoot with us today," Jennifer says with a queer little smile. "He was saying he wanted to get better for when he and I are on patrols. Is that okay?"

Luke gives you a nervous little smile. "I understand if you just want it to be you two."

You find the thought of more time spent with Luke to be a very appealing idea.

"Of course you can join."

"Great."

You watch Jennifer and Luke who chat quietly to one another, feeling strangely left out. You preferred it when it was just Jennifer with her soft way of talking to you.

Luke excuses himself to get some more eggs and the second he's out of earshot Jennifer is leaning forward conspiratorially.

"He's cute, huh?"

"I guess, yeah."

"Pretty sure he likes you," Jennifer giggles. "I mentioned we were doing shooting lessons and he was suddenly all keen."

You feel your cheeks heat up at the suggestion. Romance has never really been something you thought about. Survival had always been your focus, even here in Jackson where you have a warm bed and a roof over your head the back of your mind is always fixed on what could come next.

"He's nice," is all you offer.

It's a honest reply because, you really do think he's nice. He's gentle and he doesn't make you feel anxious like some of the leering men of Jackson. He’s soft and quiet and maybe that’s what makes your pulse jump a bit when he rejoins you seconds later.

///

"You close one eye completely, you lose peripheral vision and depth perception, and you need these to acquire the target and determine lead."

Jennifer speaks like she's reading from a book that everyone has already read and memorized. But none of it makes sense to you and you feel your frustration building.

You and Luke have been practicing with her all afternoon, your forehead dotted with sweat. And while yes, your shot is much better now that you’re aiming with the right eye, you feel like you’re still not good enough.

“You’re doing so well,” she encourages nonetheless, smiling at you.

“You really are,” Luke insists from behind you. Luke is a fast learner, already a decent shot. He’s been doing it a lot longer than you have, and using the correct eye.

“Not good enough,” you mutter sourly to yourself. “Missed that last can.”

Jennifer looks over to the can placed at a fair distance in one of the trees. You’ve hit most of the other ones, but that one keeps evading you.

“Honey that’s a far shot,” Jennifer says covering her eyes with her hand to block the winter sun. “Even I don’t get it most of the time.”

“I didn’t get it once.”

For some reason you can’t stop hearing Joel’s voice in the back of your head: useless. It feels like with every miss you’re just proving his point further.

“Okay sourpuss,” Jennifer says with a roll of her eyes. “We’re taking a break and getting a drink down at the Bison.”

The two of you agree, falling in line behind her. You watch her light hair dance in the breeze as she chats animatedly to the two of you. You wonder why she isn’t inviting her other friends to join you when it belatedly hits you.

She’s trying to get you and Luke together. You think of her winks and nudges and suddenly you know exactly what she’s doing. You want to be embarrassed or even irritated, but instead you find your heartbeat jumping.

The three of you leave your weapons at Jennifer’s before heading down into town. Your mood is lightened a bit by their company and the bright day. Snow has come to Jackson, just a small sprinkling but a definite harbinger of greater snowfall ahead.

The three of you push into the rowdy pub, filled with familiar faces. Some play cards, others are telling stories over pints. A woman named (Reba or Rebecca you think?) stands behind the pub, waving you in and telling you to shut the door because of the draft.

A few folks wave and call out hello’s to Jennifer who returns them with a beaming smile.

The three of you find an empty booth and pull off your jackets and scarves. You take a seat in the booth against the wall, a habit from before; you like to know what’s going on. From here you can see most everything and everyone who enters the space. Jennifer sits opposite you, Luke following close behind. From here you can see his face, taking in the friendly way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and the slight gap in his front teeth.

The Tipsy Bison is self serve and you offer to grab the first round, thanking Reba at the bar and bringing the three gold-colored pints over to the table. Luke and Jennifer are deep in conversation about home repair. They look up and thank you when you slide their drinks to them across the lacquered table.

“I still can’t believe they have a jukebox,” Luke breathes, his eyes lighting up when he gazes at the glowing machine. It plays a pulsing beat that you aren’t familiar with, something to keep the space feeling inviting.

“Go put on a tune,” Jennifer insists, nudging him with her elbow. “Something good.”

Luke gives a toothy grin before nodding. The two of you watch his lanky frame make his way over to the jukebox, heard only faintly over the din of the patrons. You watch him go, your eyes sliding over to Jennifer when she giggles.

“You like him.”

“No I don’t,” you answer reflexively. Your cheeks burn and Jennifer knows not to push it further right now. It’s like she can tell you’re a turtle who will retreat inside her shell if threatened. You think of how to distract her, to turn her to another topic, her favorite one.

“Seen Joel lately?”

You hate how his name sounds in your ears. You hate the syllables, hate how it feels in your mouth like a bitter candy. But you don’t tell her that.

You don’t tell Jennifer that since he came on your tits and announced your carnal times had come to an end that you’d actively avoided him. That you hadn’t come out of your house until this afternoon to practice shooting. That you were going so far as to eat tinned soup just so you wouldn’t run into Ellie at meals.

"I swear I give up," Jennifer sighs, dropping her voice to a whisper only the two of you can hear. "Joel Miller is a lost cause. I've given him every hint."

"Maybe he's just shy," you offer with a shrug. For all you know he might be.

"Or maybe he doesn't like me," Jennifer sighs. "Maybe I'll just be single forever."

You smirk at Jennifer's amusing propensity for the dramatic. As if someone that looked and acted like her could be single forever. Beautiful? Check. Good with weapons? Check. Confident? Check. You muse that if you were attracted to women you’d want her for yourself.

"Or maybe he likes someone else," Jennifer offers with a shrug but your attention is back on Luke who is approaching the table. The gentle strains of some old song play in the background. You think you recognize it from car rides with your family. Luke takes his seat next to Jennifer, his eyes scanning between the two of you.

“What did I miss?”

“Just Joel Miller talk,” Jennifer sighs, plopping her chin in her hands. “The man is an enigma.”

"That's the nicest way of saying asshole that I've ever heard,” you mutter.

Jennifer sputters a laugh at your mumbled remark, almost dribbling out some of her beer.

"Shit, you're funny."

You smile into your mug, trying not to feel too pleased with yourself and failing miserably. You can't remember the last time someone told you that you were funny. Your sister most likely. It feels good.

Before long the three of you have been talking for almost an hour. Your pints are drained and its Luke who stands, cracking his back until you hear the pops.

"I'm going to get another drink. You ladies want anything?"

"I’m okay but she’ll have another," Jennifer says cheerfully pointing at you. When Luke is out of earshot up at the bar she leans across the table in your direction again.

"I don’t care what you say, you like him and he likes you. I'm sure of it. Just look how attentive he’s being."

You feel your face flush, pleased. You don't know how she came to this conclusion but you like the sound of it. The door to the Bison props open and you hear Reba sigh as she pours another whiskey for a sleepy looking woman at the bar.

“Tommy close that dang door unless you wanna rustle us up a space heater!”

You feel your eyes drawn over to the door with a small smile starting. It immediately falls from your face when you see that Tommy isn’t alone. His older, taller, sulk of an asshole brother is with him too.

"It’s him," Jennifer whispers, glancing over her shoulder

Fuck.

Joel Miller walks into every space like he owns it and is disappointed by it. His heavy lidded eyes sail around the room, taking in the patrons, offering polite nods and tight-lipped smiles at the ones he recognizes.

Luke is retrieving the two pints of beer when the Miller brothers take a seat on the empty stools at the bar while Reba busies herself with another customer. You watch over Jennifer’s shoulder as Luke says something you can't hear to Joel. Joel is wearing a glower so menacing it almost makes you gulp. Tommy gives his brother a strange look before answering Luke.

You turn back to Jennifer, trying to hide the smirk at her dreamy look. You almost laugh when she unbuttons her cardigan until the swell of her cleavage is showing.

“Just go over to him.”

“I can’t,” she says breathless as she looks back to you. “I don’t wanna be too obvious.”

“Never stopped you before,” you joke before freezing when Jennifer’s eyes go wide.

Was that joke too far? Have you fucked this all up? You feel your throat go dry before Jennifer gives a tinkling laugh, slapping your hand affectionately.

“Oh shuddap.”

Relief floods you, distracting you from Luke’s approach until you feel his hand trail over your shoulder lightly.

"Here you go."

You feel your stomach clench as you take the drink from Luke, eyes skittering shyly from his face to his hand where it lingers on your shoulder a moment longer.

“Thanks.”

"Do you think he's waiting for us to invite him over?" Jennifer mutters more to herself than anything.

"I don't think so," Luke says with a forced laugh as he takes his seat beside her. You feel his knee brush against yours under the table and you swallow.

"I'm gonna do it," Jennifer promises, taking a moment to build her nerve. She takes a sip of your pint, breathing out.

As she does this you chance a glance in the direction of the stool Joel was occupying, expecting to find it vacated. Instead he sits there, eyes trained in the direction of your table, no doubt gazing at the back of Jennifer’s head.

"Joel! Tommy!" Jennifer suddenly calls over with a cheerful lilt. "Come join us!"

No. Please no. No no no.

You try to hide your grimace. You don't mind Tommy, but thoughts of avoiding Joel's eyes make you cringe. Especially since you haven’t spoken since he kicked you out of his house last week. You turn your full attention to your pint, hoping that they’ll deny the request.

You hear shuffling and your shoulders rise to your ears. You try to think of a reason that you can leave, but anything you say would be too obvious. Plus, you really like Tommy and Maria, why should you be chased off by Joel every time you have the opportunity to hang out with one of them?

Your pint shows only your haunted reflection before another face swims into view. Joel Miller looking down at you. Even in the swimming reflection his dark eyes pierce you. You jerk your head up, trying to avoid him. You shoot a wobbly smile in his brother’s direction instead.

“Hey Tommy. How’s Maria?”

“Good,” Tommy replies and you can see the relief there in the warm brown of his eyes. He doesn’t look as tired. “She’s with Douglas and some friends right now.”

You nod, not wanting to say anything more that would draw unnecessary attention. But Jennifer seems to have observed her absence.

“I haven’t seen much of Maria lately,” she says, her face curling into a cute pout. “Not since the baby was born.”

“She doesn’t really like the cold,” Tommy says with a falter.

“Since when?” Jennifer laughs. “Last winter she-“

“I heard in some cultures it’s normal for the mother to stay in bed for at least twenty one days,” you offer quietly. “And they do a celebration a hundred days after the baby is born with, like a big dinner.

All eyes at the table are now on you and you feel a smidgen of relief at having drawn the attention away from the Maria topic. Joel is staring at you with an unreadable look and Jennifer is looking at you with a queer little smile.

“How do you know that?”

“I had a friend who was Japanese.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway,” Tommy breaks in, relief clear in his features, “the reason I came in was because I’m lookin’ for some volunteers for Patrol C’s slot on Friday.”

At this you hasten a glance to your Friday patrol partner who is looking to his brother patiently. Joel holds a half-full pint glass in his hand, the other shoved awkwardly into his coat pocket. He seems to be ignoring you as much as you’re ignoring him.

“There’s that repair in the old library outpost that we gotta fix quick before more snow gets here. We got that lumber in, plus some nails the other day and we need some extra hands to cart it there and build. So I’m tryin’ to scout a few folks who wouldn’t mind helping. Obviously Joel’ll be doin’ most of it.”

"I'm really good with repair," Jennifer chirps eagerly, smiling up at both the Miller brothers. "Especially windows. And Luke used to work in construction."

Luke gives a small, shy wave. You see Joel frown at that before his attention is back on his brother.

"You two sure?" Tommy looks surprised. "Was gonna offer the volunteers extra portions this week as a thanks. You okay with that?"

"Would have done it for free," Jennifer assures him. You hold in a knowing smirk. Yeah, she sure would. She'd do anything to secure more time with Joel.

“How about you, Luke?”

“I’m game.”

"Great," Tommy says with a grateful smile. "Saves me having to find a few volunteers. You two show up on Friday and we'll put you to work. Lemme know if ya’ll change your mind."

You figure you’d best speak up because you don’t want to disappoint Tommy but you also know that your skills with home repair are limited. You’d rather be switched that week so someone else can go in your place. You also don’t want to chance that Joel will verbally lambaste you in front of Luke and Jennifer during patrols.

“I’m not much good with repairs,” you offer quietly.

“Oh, I know,” Tommy says with a playful wink shot your way. “I remember the stables last summer.”

You feel Jennifer and Luke’s eyes on you and you even think you can feel Joel’s brows rising in surprise and intrigue.

During your first month in Jackson City you’d attempted to be a part of things by volunteering for the stable rebuild that now houses Chestnut, Glimmer and a host of other horses and livestock. You’d worked so hard in that blazing sun, but no matter what your nails always seemed to bent the wrong way or the wood was crooked. By the middle of the day Tommy was urging you to leave and get some water and that you’d worked enough for one day and should go home to relax.

But you hadn’t missed the way he started taking apart your work before you were even down the street. Hadn’t missed the soft chuckles from some of the others who were working on the project. Half the town had been there that day, maybe even Jennifer, but all you remember the humiliation of seeing your own inadequacy highlighted.

You’d assumed Tommy wouldn’t bring it up. But perhaps he’s a bit more like Joel than you give him credit for.

“Does that mean you want me to do Patrol A or something that week?” you offer, trying to swallow your shame.

"No no, it's your regular patrol day and you've got good eyes," Tommy tells you, all guile gone from his features. "Repairing the window might draw attention. Wanna make sure someone is watching out while the group works."

You can't deny a feeling of pride that goes through you at the thought that you're important enough to be brought along for the journey. You’d assumed you’d be left behind. You wait for Joel to scoff or roll his eyes but to your delight he does neither.

"Okay."

Tommy nods and looks like he’s going to set off for home when Jennifer shoots he and Joel a charismatic smile.

“Join us,” Jennifer all but purrs. “We’re just having another round.”

You don’t remind her that her glass is empty. Your eyes go back to your drink, trying to think of a way to extricate yourself from this awkward interaction.

“I gotta get back to Maria,” Tommy says with a tired smile. “I just needed to get some volunteers and thanks to y’all I have.”

You hear Jennifer’s breathing hitch a moment. “Joel? How about you?”

No. Say no. No.

There’s a pause, a shuffling of boots and then you feel a warm and sturdy body slide into the booth next to you. The booth is tight and the nigh is busy so there’s not much room to spread out. You feel his thigh press into yours and hold in a groan of displeasure.

Why couldn’t Luke have sat next to you at the start? Now you’re stuck being shoulder to shoulder with a man you can barely stand. The four of you sit across from one another like two couples on an increasingly awkward double date.

You all wave Tommy off before the moment grows quiet with only the other patrons as a soundtrack to the evening. You glance out the corner of your eyes to see Joel’s large hand around the pint glass, raising it to his pouty mouth before drinking deeply.

“So you have construction experience, Joel?” Jennifer offers and you don’t miss how she presses her arms together, highlighting her cleavage. You hide an amused smirk behind your glass, thankful that at least you’ll have Jennifer’s antics to amuse you.

“Carpentry.”

“Me too,” Luke offers and you can see him swallow nervously before looking at the elder Miller in the face. “Specifically cabinetry.”

Joel grunts a reply before taking another sip of his beer. As the men sit across from one another you can't help but observe that Luke has long, tapered fingers, like an artist. Joel's fingers are also long but more blunt, more masculine looking. You don't know why you draw the comparison but you do.

“I used to do framing with-“ Jennifer starts, but Joel has turned his attention to you.

“What was Tommy talkin’ about with you and the stables?”

Why is he talking to you? It’s not like you’re friends. Is he trying to intimidate you? Humiliate you? You don’t meet his gaze.

“Nothing,” you mutter, taking another sip of your pint. “Was nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothin’.”

You hold in a grimace. Your eyes shoot across the table and you can see Jennifer eyeing you and Joel a moment before smirking. “I’m kinda curious too.”

Luke gives you an encouraging grin as well and you swallow, licking your lips anxiously because they suddenly feel bone dry. You wish that you were anywhere else but sitting here in a crowded room feeling trapped.

You don’t want to share that humiliation with anyone else, especially Joel who already thinks you’re useless. You want the attention turning to anyone, to anything else. But all eyes at the table are on you and you feel a flush creeping up your neck.

“I have to go.”

Before anyone can interject you’ve stood up, dragging your coat over your shoulders. You’re about to leave when you feel Joel’s hand on your wrist holding you in place. You turn to face him, scowling as you rip your wrist from his embrace.

“Forgot this,” Joel rumbles.

You glance down to see him holding your red scarf in his fingers. He’s holding it in much the same way he always did before winding it around your eyes and at the sight of it in his grip you feel your throat run dry.

Your eyes flick to his, not immune to the way they darken when you swallow. You snatch it from him, offering a quiet thanks and disappearing out the door.

///

It’s Thursday before you come out of your house again.

You’ve been sequestered in your house all week eating tinned tuna and re-reading old books in your collection. You even toyed with the idea of doing something with your boring walls before deciding it was too much work.

Your humiliation at the Bison hasn’t left you. Neither has the way Jennifer threw you under the bus in front of Joel. Why did she go along with him questioning you? She must have seen how embarrassed you were!

She’s been by several times, knocking and calling your name but you never answer. You’re too embarrassed. You think you’re a little angry with her as well. But you don’t know if it’s justified or if you’re just too sensitive.

She tried leaving cookies a few days ago but they were inedible. Seems Jennifer isn’t good at everything. But you decide the next time you see her that you’ll let all of this go.

So when the door knocks that Thursday morning you slowly open the door, expecting to see Jennifer’s face. To your shock it’s Ellie who stands there in a thick blue parka giving you an incredulous look.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Huh?”

“I haven’t seen you at the dining hall,” she says, sniffling.

“Oh just been feeling a little under the weather,” you lie, fingernail absently scraping the wood frame beside your door. You notice that the end of Ellie’s nose is red from the cold. “You wanna come in for a warm drink?”

“Nah, you said we could make flowers.”

“Oh right,” you answer awkwardly glancing from your feet to hers. “Sorry Ellie. We can do it today if you want.”

“You’re not busy?”

“Nope,” you say, moving to give her space to pass. “Come in and-“

“Nah let’s do it at mine,” Ellie insists, taking you by the hand and tugging. “I got a bunch of that colored paper and wire stuff from Maria plus I wanna show you my room. Joel let me convert the whole garage.”

Everything in you screams no, but Ellie’s earnest face has you immediately caving. Plus you promised her. You sigh, pulling on your jacket and allowing her to lead you to Rancher Street.

///

“Then you wrap the wire around the base like that,” you instruct, reminding her about the extra loop. “Yeah, perfect.”

The two of you have been seated at her kitchen table for over an hour. Colorful swatches of ripped paper and wires decorate the wood. Turns out Ellie is a very quick learner when it comes to the arts. It’s not long before she’s folding tulips and peonies even better than you ever could.

Joel is mercifully nowhere to be found. Ellie mentioned he was out with Tommy doing some errand that would take him several hours. Once she’d made that announcement you’d been able to relax some.

It still feels weird to be in Joel’s house. In your head it was a dark dungeon with dishes piled high and guns on every wall. So far you’ve seem just a bit of the house which is decorated in whites and blues and the deep brown of carved wood. A normal, boring, ordinary house. A few too many framed photos of horses on the wall but he is a man from Texas after all.

The fireplace is cozy today with the chill of the approaching winter, the kind of cold that settles into the bones. But with the fireplace and mugs of hot chocolate that Ellie insisted on making you both, you find you don’t notice it much. As with meals she likes to pepper you with questions.

"What was the last book you were reading back before everything happened?"

"Mmm that's a good question," you tell her, squinting as you try to recall. "I think it was the latest Harry Potter."

"Who's Harry Porter?" Ellie asks, her tongue sticking to the side as she focuses on smoothing a particularly stubborn piece of paper.

"Potter," you gently correct her. "It's about a boy wizard."

"Like Gandalf? I already read about him. Joel has those books."

This takes you aback for a moment. In your mind Joel doesn't read. You kind of just assumed that when he's not on patrol or with the horses he's sleeping or cleaning his guns. The thought of him enjoying something the same as you makes him feel more human.

"No, a young boy goes to wizarding school," you supply. It's a bit of an undersell of the book but Ellie is already rolling her eyes.

"A wizard going to school? That's fucking stupid."

"Couldn't agree more," you say scanning the books she's brought with her. "But they were all the rage."

When the first paper bouquet is finished Ellie announces that she wants to show you her room. She doesn’t give you much option but you smile at the earnestness anyway. You follow her to the door that opens up to the garage. You expect it to be chilly but obviously it’s been insulated well because it’s warmer than the house.

It’s also massive. A large, unmade bed rests by a window on the far side. The walls are lined with mismatched desks and a rolling chair. A couch with a yellow gingham blanket is on the other side, a coffee table made out of crates holds several magazines.

An easel rests nearby, an apron hung upon it. Ellie is quite the artist you’ve come to learn. On the wall you spot a poster of an astronaut and you smile faintly to yourself. You remember your own childhood ambitions of space travel.

Aside from the unmade bed the space is rather meticulous for a teenage girl. You wonder if it’s her upbringing back in her youth or because Joel is a strict caregiver. You still don’t know how long he’s been in her life. Ellie watches you survey her space with a grin. You think she must feel how you did when you first moved into your space; safe and proud.

You see the sketchbooks piled on one of the desks as you wander over to it.

“You draw?”

“Sometimes,” she says, opening the book and placing it on the table. She flips through a few pages before stopping on a graphite drawing of what appears to be a strange-looking horse.

“I tried drawing Glimmer but I keep fucking up her eyes,” she explains with a pout.

“I think it looks good,” you answer honestly. Ellie glances up at you, shy from the praise before giving a crooked grin. She calls you over to her bookshelf and asks you to look through the titles.

“You read any of these before?”

You crouch down to see all of the titles near the bottom; many are familiar pulpy novels you’d find in an airport. One catches your attention and you tug it from its confines, standing and holding it.

“I remember reading this to my sister,” you murmur, eyes misty. Ellie brushes the hair from her face as she invites you to takes a seat next to her on the couch. The two of you look at the book together, both cross legged, knees touching.

“The Giver,” Ellie reads.

“It’s a good one,” you tell her. “It’s about a boy with a job he doesn’t want but was born for. He kinda discovers what good and evil is and if you can have one without the other. I’m doing a shitty job of summarizing it, but it’s a really good book from what I remember.”

“Sounds good,” Ellie murmurs. She tilts her head to read the first page and at this distance you notice the kinks and knots at the back of her ponytail.

"When's the last time you brushed your hair?" You chide gently. Ellie ducks her head and shrugs.

“Dunno.”

You swivel in spot on the couch, facing the other end and pat the blanket in front of you in invitation.

"Grab a brush. You read, I'll de-tangle," you offer. She pauses, thinking about your offer before she rushes to the bathroom, returning moments later with a harried looking comb. You raise a brow at this and she laughs.

“S’all I’ve got.”

She clamors up, facing away from you with the book in her lap. She begins reading, tripping over the odd word.

"Instantly, obediently, Jonas had dropped his bike on its side on the path behind his family’s dwelling. He had run indoors and stayed there, alone."

Her voice is steady and she plays with the edge of the pages as she reads.

"Lily looked up, her eyes wide. “The Ceremony of Twelve,” she whispered in an awed voice. Even the smallest children Lily’s age and younger -knew that it lay in the future for each of them."

You find the sensation of being read to and brushing the girls knotted hair to be strangely soothing.

"Your hair is such a beautiful color" you say before she begins on the next chapter, seeing the way the colors shine in the sunlight.

Ellie doesn't answer and you wonder if she's embarrassed by the compliment. Teenagers are never known for loving extra unwanted attention.

Brushing the dark strands of Ellie's you’re struck by how tense the girl is, like a trapped animal. Her shoulders are practically up to her ears. As if she isn't familiar with the sensation of a kindly touch.

"Did your mom never do this for you?"

Even though she's facing away you can see the way Ellie's head tips forward, her eyes downcast.

"Never had a mom."

Your eyes shut momentarily as you chastise your own thoughtless stupidity. You don’t attempt to further this topic. For now you're content just to brush the girl's hair, smiling as Ellie relaxes with every stroke.

“I wonder if Sarah ever read this,” she mutters to herself as she begins the next chapter. You smooth a section of her hair, taking in the name.

"Who's Sarah?"

"Joel’s daughter," Ellie confides, her eyes on the paper in front of her. "She died on outbreak day."

You surmise that Ellie's so invested in the book that she doesn't even realize what she's saying or to whom.

You remember Maria telling you something of that during your visit with her. It makes your heart clench, thinking of the loss. Before you can stop yourself you’re probing for more information.

“How old was she?”

“Not old. Younger than me I think.”

A child.

You can’t imagine the pain that would create in someone. In all your experiences with Joel it was easy to forget that he had a past. Something that twisted him into the person that he is today. Even after Maria told you he’d lost a daughter you’d overlooked it, content on hating him for his changeable moods as if he had no motivation.

But you’ve lost as well, a voice reminds you. And you haven’t resorted to cruelty.

“Maria mentioned a soldier,” you pause, trying to work the comb through a particularly tricky knot. Ellie is quiet for a few moments as she reads the page she’s on, speaking only when she flips it over.

"Yeah, Joel was carrying Sarah. I think she broke her ankle or something. He was escaping a clicker. Soldier shot it, so Joel thought they were safe but they thought Sarah and him were infected because there were covered in blood."

Your stomach drops as you imagine a younger Joel carrying his daughter tightly in his arms, both terrified with her clinging to him. You’re quiet, not wanting to ask anymore. Already it feels like you’ve overstepped, learned too much about him.

"Joel told the soldier they were okay, not infected. But the soldier shot anyway. Clipped Joel, got Sarah bad."

You feel a wave of nausea hitting you. The thought of losing a child that way makes you physically ill. Your loss hurts so acutely even now, you can't imagine that kind of pain compounded by losing a piece you brought into existence.

“Joel told you all of this?”

“Nah, Maria did,” Ellie replies. “Joel talks with me a little bit about Sarah. Stuff she liked, TV shows and books and stuff. But not about how she died.”

It’s wrong of you to have pushed for more information. Especially since you and Joel are the furthest thing from friends.

"He blames himself for it," Ellie continues, fingers sliding between the pages of the book to turn to the next chapter. "Even though it was a soldier who shot at them. How can Joel blame himself for that?"

She approaches this topic almost naive. You've stopped brushing altogether; you can only stare down at the back of Ellie’s head blinking slowly.

"He seems like the kind of guy who's built to protect people," you offer gently.

"But he was unarmed. How's any of what happened his fault?"

"I don't know," you offer quietly. "Maybe he-"

"What the fuck are you two talkin' about?"

Neither of you heard Joel come in the garage, but he obviously heard enough of your conversation because he looks completely furious. He's a tall man with broad shoulders and the sight of him wild-eyed and fists curled makes you physically startle.

"Joel-" Ellie starts her face blanching.

"I said what are you two talkin' about?" His voice is icy, and takes you both by surprise

"Uh…We..." The open ire on his face makes you stumble over your words. You feel embarrassed at having been caught talking about him, you feel terrified at the vitriol in his eyes.

Your stunned reaction is all the confirmation he needs.

"Get out," Joel mumbles, his dark eyes sailing from you to Ellie. "And you? We need to talk."

Ellie is never afraid of Joel, not that you've seen. But when you look to her now you see her wince at the knowledge that she's overstepped.

Something in you forgets your own fear and you raise a hand in his direction, as if he's a wild animal you're attempting to tame.

"Joel, it's-" you try to interject, to hold back the fury that's crackling through the room. But instead he turns his cold gaze to you, his sharp jaw ticking.

"Get the fuck out now."

And you know that you have to leave. This isn't your place. Ellie isn't your daughter, Joel isn't your husband. This is basically a stranger's home.

"I'm sorry."

You shoot Ellie a sympathetic look but she's just staring at with rounded eyes. You can't help but stop at her side, your voice a soft murmur. "He won't hurt you will he?"

Ellie's eyes snap to yours with a mixture of shock and horror.

"Joel would never hurt me," Ellie explains before Joel has time to react to your question. "He's about the only one who never has."

The emphatic nature of her reply surprises you into taking a step backwards. A quick look over your shoulder at Joel tells you that his anger is dwindling at her words. You nod once more in Ellie's direction and then you slip by Joel to exit.

You’re just turning off Rancher Street when the tears begin to slip down your cheeks. They drip onto the collar of your jacket and they don’t stop until you close the door to your home behind you.

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

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