#sarah miller tlou

[mrsquill]

I always catch myself thinking about the fact that Joel wasn’t able to see an image of Sarah’s face for twenty years.

Like, we take photos and phones for granted so much if we lose a loved one; our memories are captured forever, ready to revisit when we need to, when we need that reminder that that person was real, that they were here.

But, Joel’s daughter died in such a traumatic way, and he had no way of remembering her face other than his own memories, which would’ve been catastrophically tainted by the way she died. Joel’s lasting memory of his baby girl is corrupted by blood and anguish.

I just know he’d curse himself one night for not being able to remember the exact number of freckles that dusted the bridge of her nose; or not being being able to recall the shade of her irises when the sun hit just right, or the shriek of her laughter when her Uncle Tommy made him the butt of his joke for the hundredth time.

I think Pedro did a stellar job of conveying this despair when Joel catches sight of someone who looks just like Sarah in Jackson; I’m sure it’s happened several times over the years, but the hope - wrapped up in sadness - shown in his eyes… man. A true visceral reaction. His daughter is a ghost to him, to his own mind. And it breaks me.

(Pure word vomit inspired by a fic written by @swiftispunk as part of her Folklore collection. Sorry Han, I just couldn’t get it out of my head after your fucking AMAZING line about Sarah’s eyes. Poetry).

#ugh in my feelings tonight man #my heart aches for joel #he loved that girl so much #joel miller #joel miller tlou #sarah miller #sarah miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel the last of us #the last of us sarah #hbo the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou show #pedro pascal #my stuff

[heartpascal]

Re: drabbles, my favorite stories are I’ll be brave, so far from it, and all my faith but I don’t have any scenarios off the top of my head 🤨 a drabble à la the crooked kind would be so fun to read!!

but honestly anything and everything you put out, I will read. I eat it up every time.

▹— pre-outbreak!joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: drabble from the crooked kind universe! • the time joel realised what your home life is like.

▹— a/n: my first ever drabble pls go easy on me D: (also if you have any situations you’d like written for this universe or others just send in a request!)

▹— warnings: abusive & neglectful family, almost father figure joel, sarah is your best friend, mention of argument with parents

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Perhaps, he thinks now, Joel should have been suspicious of what you and Sarah had been hiding the third time you were sleeping over during the week. After all, most parents had a no-school-nights rule, and you were always quite skittish around him when he asked you questions. You also never responded well to him asking to speak to your parents, insisting that he didn’t.

But in his defence, he didn’t have a no-school-nights rule, so he figured that maybe, your parents didn’t either. It wasn’t a terrible assumption to make, although he’d given up on speaking to your parents pretty easily.

You and Sarah always got up on time for school, and you didn’t cause much trouble. Besides stocking up on some of your preferred snacks, you hadn’t had much of an impact on the Miller household, you actually blended in so well that it was like you were always there.

It was on the now sixth time of you staying at the Miller residence during the week that Joel was really starting to get suspicious. Over the course of the past three weeks, you had spent days and nights at his and Sarah’s, without so much of a word from your parents. Joel knew that he wouldn’t be all too happy if his daughter was out of the house for so long, but what could he do? Hell, even Sarah got defensive over him trying to talk about your parents.

The seventh time, he couldn’t keep quiet.

“Hey, kids?” He called up the stairs, having seen your shoes stored away neatly by the door. It was usually around dinner that Sarah begged for you to be allowed to stay the night, and that time was fast approaching. Joel figured it was best to nip this in the bud.

“What is it, dad?” Sarah yelled back, and Joel rolled his eyes at the attitude she was already showing. He resisted the urge to do that annoying parent thing, where they just didn’t answer your reply after they yelled you first.

“Come on down here, the both of you!” He responded after a moment of hesitation, hearing the vague sound of the two of you sharing hushed whispers. Joel moved on into the living room when he heard the steps coming down the hallway, the two of you finally descending the stairs when he had taken a seat on the sofa.

Sarah looked nervous, though you looked far more so, with trembling hands that you wrapped tightly around the straps of your backpack, already worn on your back. “Dad?” Sarah asked, after he hadn’t spoken for more than a moment of the two girls standing in the room.

Joel sighed, nodding his head to the couch and waiting for you both to sit down before he spoke again. “Listen, I think we need to have a talk.” He began, frowning when Sarah immediately cut him off from saying anything else.

“Dad, are you being serious?” She asked, eyes wide and defensive, and her sudden alarm wasn’t improving your nerves, either, and you were looking more anxious by the second. The last thing you wanted was for Sarah to get into trouble for you. “You’re being unreasonable! She needs to stay over here—”

Joel decided to play at Sarah’s own game, holding a stern look on his face as he cut her off. “Sarah, that’s enough. I ain’t said a word, just yet, calm yourself down.” He told her, not liking the frown she held on her expression. Joel turned his gaze to you, softening his expression when you shrunk under his gaze. “Now you two listen to me, alright? I don’t mind you stayin’ here. Can stay as many nights as you please, but god, kiddo, are your parents really alright with that?”

Sarah moved as if she was going to jump in, save you from speaking, but Joel fixed her with the strict dad-look, and she sat back, looking towards you with an apologetic gaze.

“Yeah, they’re—they don’t mind it, one bit. But I can go back, I don’t mean to be overstayin’ my welcome.” You rambled on, giving Sarah an urgent look as she opened her mouth to oppose your words, causing her to move her glare over to her dad.

“And the reason you have to stay here?” Joel asked after a moment, almost hesitantly. But if there was something more going on, he had to know about it. He was the parent here, and it was his job to look after the people under his roof.

You practically withered under the combination of his look and his question, clutching your bag straps tightly, like you were ready to head off with a moment’s notice.

“It’s nothin’, Mr. Miller, we just like hangin’ over here. Your place is much nicer than mine, right Sarah?” You looked to her pleadingly, and Joel’s suspicion only grew when Sarah nodded painfully quickly, confirming your words.

He didn’t believe you, not for a second, but decided to let the two of you off the hook.

It was the eighth time that Joel knew.

He felt sick to his stomach for not picking up on it before, for not actively trying to find out what was wrong when he knew something wasn’t quite right. For a moment, he also became angry with his own daughter, for not telling him.

The incessant knocking on the door came late that night, and given it was close to 9PM and dark out, Joel wondered who the hell would be coming to his house. It couldn’t have been Tommy — he would never knock, so Joel truly had no idea.

When he opened the door, he certainly didn’t expect to be met with you, backpack slung over your shoulders, your eyes squinting through the rain that was coming down heavy.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You greeted, shakily, and he didn’t miss the tremor in your tone as he ushered you inside out of the cold rain. You tried not to look too nervous under his scrutiny, tried to remain brave and nonchalant as he closed the door after you. “I’m really sorry, but could I stay over here tonight?” You asked him then, and Joel could’ve sworn he heard his own heart break at your voice.

“Jesus Christ,” He said, eyes wide as he took you in, soaked to the bone, your eyes shining with something that wasn’t from the weather. “Of course you can, kiddo, c’mon, let’s get you dried off.”

Whilst you took your shoes off, aiming not to traipse wet footsteps all throughout their house, Joel shouted up to Sarah to bring some towels. She didn’t hesitate given the urgency in his tone.

“What happened?” Sarah asked desperately as Joel took the towels from her hands to wrap them around you as you shivered, turning to look at Sarah with a nervous smile.

Joel didn’t miss the way you nervously looked in his direction, and busied himself taking the school bag from your hand and placing it down in the hallway. “Just got into a fight with my parents, ‘s’all.” You said, clearly downplaying whatever had gone on in your household. Joel’s attention was caught, that was for certain, and now he regretted every letting you go back to your own house, especially when you so often looked reluctant to leave.

Sarah looked towards Joel, much like you had, before she turned back to you, where you held the towel around your shoulders tighter. “Was it about you stayin’ over?”

You shook your head. “No, didn’t make my bed this morning.” You told her, not seeing the way Joel’s face fell. He couldn’t imagine telling Sarah off for something so badly that she left home late evening, in the pouring rain, let alone over an unmade bed.

“Kiddo,” Joel sighed, placing a hand against your shoulder, a look of slight anguish on his expression. “The two of you should’ve told me what was really goin’ on. You could’ve stayed as long as you liked.”

You frowned, your eyes still teary as you looked at your best friend’s dad, “Didn’t wanna keep botherin’ you.”

“You’re not a bother,” He said firmly, “Now c’mon, let’s get you into some dry clothes. You eaten?” At the shake of your head, his frown deepened further, but he nodded. “Then we’ll get you some food, alright?”

He let Sarah take you upstairs, off to borrow some spare clothes, and he cooked whilst you changed, just hearing the faint sounds of your quiet conversation with Sarah. He felt bad, not being the greatest cook, but he figured even shitty pre-packaged macaroni cheese would be alright with you. In fact, he often found that when you and Sarah had sleepovers, his supply of mac n’ cheese depleted.

You sat on the couch when Joel brought you a bowl of macaroni cheese, something unsettled in your eyes, but you smiled faintly at him.

“Now, you listen to me, alright? Anythin’ happens, and I mean anything, you can come here. Don’t even need to ask.” He said to you firmly, pretending he didn’t see the wobble to your lip that you hid behind your bowl.

“Thanks, dad.” Sarah said softly, responding for you, because she knew you better than you knew yourself. She sat between you and her dad, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“‘Course. But hey, if you’re gonna be stayin’ more often, you drink coffee in the morning?” Joel asked, bringing some lightness back to the conversation, his chosen topic coaxing a snicker from you as Sarah groaned, sick of her dad’s coffee addiction.

“That stuff’s gonna give you a heart attack, you know.” She said matter-of-factly, raising her eyebrows at her dad.

“Milk and two sugars,” You responded, the tremble in your voice replaced with a tinge of amusement, and Joel laughed with you at the sigh of annoyance Sarah let out.

— taglist: @auggiesolovey, @just-kaylaa, @evyiione, @lemonlaides, @fariylixie0915, @erensloveinterest, @dazedshoon, @faceache111, @randomhoex, @canpillowscry, @sleepygraves, @pedropascalsrealgf, @star-wars-lover, @coolchick333, @soobsdior, @ilybbg, @rvjaa

please let me know if you want your tag added/removed !!!

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller x reader #joel miller platonic #father figure joel miller #sarah miller tlou #joel miller drabble #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #heartpascal drabbles

[lost-in-sokovia]

close to my heart, never to part

AN: hey team!! so, it’s quite apparent that i haven’t written anything on here in ages!! tbh since early 2023 it’s been difficult for me to enjoy writing fanfic style and therefore it’s been fucking forever since i’ve done it!! however, i’ve started writing again but in a completely different style of writing, and my friends and even a few of my professors at school have been really supportive and so it’s given me more confidence. so, i wrote this little piece over a span of two nights. it’s not proofread, it all came to me on a whim from a thought that stemmed in the shower one night. as some of you might know, lullabies are incredibly important to me. my parents always sang “you are my sunshine” to me so that’s the one i grew up on, i still listen to lullabies, and giving my babies lullabies is something so important to me. so i was thinking what joel’s lullaby for sarah would be, and i remembered that nico parker was in the live action “dumbo” movie that i actually saw in theaters with my sister when i was younger. so, obviously i had to take that connection and translate it, and this idea hit. so, without further ado, here is something i wrote that im incredibly nervous to post because i haven’t posted an original writing since literally 2022 and i need to do a masterlist cleanse of all my old shit spanning back to when i was like 14/15 whatever and here’s something i wrote for joel miller who i am not an expert on tlou fandom girlies please be gentle with me😭

tw: alcohol consumption, language, angst, pre-/no! breakout joel, sarah is a baaaaby🤍, no use of y/n, this isn’t even an x reader fic😭

(if you want to listen to my favorite rendition of “baby mine” that helped inspire this, here it is!!)

it wasn’t like he was sleeping, anyway.

joel miller was sitting on his couch in the dead of night, slouched over with heavy, glossed over eyes mindlessly staring at whatever the fuck had come on the tv at this point.

it was the first night without his wife, without the mother of his infant daughter.

the austin air was quiet that night, and seemingly all that existed (or didn’t exist, joel was still debating) was joel, his couch, his beer, and his tv.

joel had been slowly nursing a beer all night. just one, he had told himself, because he couldn’t be drunk and alone with his daughter.

however, as the hours passed on, joel had forgotten about the existence of his peacefully sleeping daughter in her nursery, and yet he still held the same amber glass bottle tiredly between his fingers as it rested on his knee.

still in jeans and a t-shirt, joel’s heavy eyelids fluttered open and closed, the obnoxious bright light of the television piercing his pupils when opened and nearly provoking a headache. he was hopelessly fighting the sleep that could take him away from all his problems for a short time. his eyes dry and salty from the tears he’d shed earlier in the night were losing the battle of exhaustion as his head slowly began to fall back against the leather couch.

not even moments later, small hiccuped cries began to erupt from sarah’s nursery. joel jerked awake and looked around through squinting eyes as he ran a hand over his face and through his hair. the cries of his daughter intensified and joel let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

what was he supposed to do? taking care of sarah in the night wasn’t new to him, but doing it alone was.

what if he couldn’t get her to stop?

what if she wanted her mother? that’s a thing babies usually cry for, right?

joel pushed down the fresh set of tears that pricked at his eyelids and forced himself to get up, his stomach churning with dread (and the nausea provoked by drinking a beer after eating almost nothing all day).

it took everything in him to climb the stairs to reach the nursery. his legs dragged with exhaustion and his willpower to take care of whatever the issue was was close to nothing, despite the fact his baby daughter’s cries intensified the longer she was up there alone.

when joel finally reached her nursery, the sound of her cries pounded in his head.

“oh, oh oh,” he cooed as gently as he could, voice gruff with sleep. he carefully lifted sarah out of her crib, bouncing her lightly as he held her to his chest. “why’re we cryin’, babygirl? what’s wrong?”

sarah’s little fists were beside her face that was scrunched unhappily, her mouth stretched wide as she wailed. joel cooed and continued to bounce her, trying to get her to calm down.

he lifted her higher to do a smell-check of her diaper to see if that was the problem. nope, the scent of baby powder still penetrated his nose.

he held a finger in front of her mouth to see if she’d try to suck it, a sign she may be hungry.

nothing, just a bit of spit from her tiny mouth sprayed his finger as she cried.

“sarah, darlin’, work with me here,” joel pleaded helplessly. he walked around in a small circle as he bounced her, looking around her nursery; light blue walls with quilted decor of the alphabet above her crib, sheer curtains patterned with lively little polka dots, a rocking chair, a nightlight, a changing table, a little bookshelf, toys and stuffed animals set nicely in a corner…

each and every piece of furniture and decor laced with memories of sarah’s mom.

joel wasn’t sure how many times he’d made the same circle, and he had gotten used to the sound of sarah’s cries by now. his eyelids were heavy and his head had the dullest ache.

he felt like he could cry too. he was completely drained and at a loss. was this what every night for the next year was going to look like? how the hell was he supposed to raise his daughter right without her mother in the picture? what was he going to do about work? who was going to watch her? who—

joel didn’t realize tears were sliding down his cheeks until sarah let out an absolute guttural cry.

“i’m sorry, babygirl, ‘m sorry…” joel apologized, using his thumb to try and gently wipe the mix of his and her tears off her soft baby cheek. he stared at his daughter in the dark, weakly whispering continued apologies.

he was sorry for letting his tears drop onto her. he was sorry she was crying. he was sorry for however the rest of her life was about to be.

he was sorry he wasn’t her mother.

joel’s last and final resort hit after he had taken a few deep breaths. he remembered singing.

sarah’s mom wasn’t one for full-on singing for her daughter, but joel, who had wanted to be a singer, was. he’d gently lay sarah’s tiny body on top of his blanket-covered guitar and play soft lullabies for her, singing into her little ear. a popular song with her had been “baby mine” from the movie “dumbo.” before sarah was born, joel and her mother had collected as many vhs tapes of movies that she would hopefully enjoy from second-hand sales. among that pile was the movie of the elephant with the big ears, who when flying made sarah laugh and squeal.

joel cleared his throat as quietly as possible, sarah’s cries and whines still persisting.

“baby mine, don’t you cry,” joel began softly, voice a bit scratchy. “baby mine, dry your eyes. rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine.”

cries subsided into little whines.

“little one, when you play…”

little fists unclenched.

“don’t you mind what they say…”

sarah’s tiny tensed body relaxed.

“l-let those eyes sparkle and shine, never a tear, baby of mine…”

joel cradled her and rocked her slowly back and forth, watching his daughter fall asleep once more. though emotion flooded up in his chest, he knew he couldn’t stop now.

“if they knew sweet little you, they’d end up lovin’ you too… all those same people who scold you, what they’d g-give just for the right to hold you…”

joel wasn’t sure if he could finish. his voice was choked up and more tears slid down his cheeks as he admired his peacefully sleeping daughter, calm just from the sound of her father’s voice.

he took a shaky breath before forcing himself to finish out the song.

“from your head t’your toes, you’re not much, goodness knows—“

with a small crack in his voice, he finished out the rest of the lullaby in a whisper.

“but you’re so precious t’me… cute as can be… baby of mine…”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou #the last of us #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #sarah miller #sarah miller tlou #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal tlou #Spotify

[akariamai]

Soldier

Part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x soldier!reader

Word Count: 1258

You and your assigned associate, Jeffery, were stationed near the riverbank. The purpose, as the two of you were told, was to prevent those who were infected from leaving the city and spreading the infection. Your superiors were clueless from where the virus originated from. They only knew ordinary people were turning into rabid beings, attacking anyone to spread their infection.

You’ve chosen to become a soldier due to your excessive need to help others. Your naïve mind wanted to bear the monstrosities of the government in the name of the people. The screams, off in the far distance, only grew louder as an airplane was going down, crashing into the ground, would haunt you till your last breath.

“What happens now?” Jeffery was terrified of the potential future for humanity. This was a nightmare no one would ever wake up from. Your superiors did not know what to do. It was prevalent when they gave rushed orders to your fellow soldiers.

You simply shrugged. The events before you reminded you of a movie. It seemed like the beginning of a zombie apocalypse with humanity failing to overcome the dead. From the ripples of chaos spreading like an infection throughout communities and the dead, who laid in their wake, rose once again. You wished it was a bad dream from watching horror movies the day before. You hoped to wake up in your bed to start your morning routine all over again. You knew; however, you would never wake up from this nightmare. It was your new reality.

You saw bodies running steadily towards you and your partner. Blood drenched their clothing and mouths. “Stay back!” He shakingly yelled. They continued to grow closer, too close for comfort, leaving you no choice but to shoot. Without hesitation, two loud gun shots rang throughout the river. Their bodies fell to the ground, completely lifeless, leaving the two of you in shock for a moment.

You both shook it off, knowing it was not the time to dwell on what happened, and moved on. You patrolled the area without too many infected coming your way. Everything seemed to come to a standstill. The screaming quieted it down, leaving you with the conclusion that people were dead, leaving the infected victorious. The world was coming to an end with few survivors left to rebuild society. The number of deaths will further increase as order no longer exists.

Your mind wondered if people made it out of the city, narrowly avoiding and escaping death, and what orders you and Jeffery would be given once you’ve encountered survivors. As the government didn’t have readily available information or knowledge of the infection, you feared you or Jeffery were infected and didn’t know it yet.

You walked in silence. Lost in your thoughts without leaving yourselves vulnerable. The unknown hovered over you like a darken cloud ready to overwhelm any happiness you might experience. The comms was silent as well. Leaving nothing but questions about the welfare of your comrades and the higher ups. They could be dead for all you knew or worse infected.

The sound of a door slamming open caught your attention. It could be another infected making their way towards you, but it could also be survivors. You and Jeffery ran towards the sound, guns in hand, hoping to save but eliminate it if necessary.

A man, carrying another in his arms, rushed out of the building. He didn’t see the two of you yet, too busy attempting to outrun one of the infected. It was approaching them ever so steadily, so you shot it dead. He stopped once he heard the gunshot and turned around slowly. His eyes searched for his savior, in this case, saviors.

Once you were able to see clearly, you noticed he was carrying a young and terrified girl. She was shaking terribly in his arms, and he comforted her softly, almost too faint for your ears to hear, “It’s okay baby. You’re safe.”

He must’ve recognizing you were a part of the military and inched closer to the two of you. Jeffery, not trusting them, aimed his gun towards them. “Don’t move!”

He did as he was told before pleading for one of you to help her, “My daughter’s hurt. Her ankle.”

“Stop right there!” Jeffery yelled again; his gun more focused on their figures.  

“Easy now.” The man said, “We’re not sick!”

“Please stay right where you are.” You announced to the man, wanting to console the man and his daughter, “Call it in.” As much as you wanted to apprehend your partner, you didn’t want to panic the survivors in front of you.

Jeffery turned on his comms, “We got two civilians by the river, one of ‘em injured.”

The comms suddenly rang to life as he got a reply. They asked where the injury was located and the type of injury the civilian acquired.

“Ankle, sir.” You cut in, “Most likely a sprain. Worst case a broken bone.” From the angle you were at, the girl didn’t look like she was bleeding from her ankle. You hoped it was nothing too serious. The survival of doctors was currently unknown as this time.

Both you and Jeffery waited for an answer. Waiting for a location to a safe location to move them to. “Eliminate them.” It was not the order you thought would be given.

“I’m sorry, repeat?” You desperately wished you misheard the orders. You hoped the orders would change after they were repeated.

The man must’ve sensed a change in the air. His instincts were telling him something was amiss but there was no one except the two of you. He eyed the way your body seemed to shift the more the person on the other side spoke. He couldn’t make out what was being said so he tried to shift closer.

“Hey!” Jeffery frustratingly yelled, “No one told you to move.” Gunfire began to ring out in this distance.

“Yes, sir.” It seemed Jeffery was slowly accepting what he needed to accomplish for the orders given. Every breath he took, every shudder from his body, welcomed the news unexpectedly. He was preparing to kill innocent and unarmed civilians without deteriorating his mental state. “Yes, sir.”

You knew you couldn’t go through with it and maybe Jeffery knew as well. The two of you weren’t close but have crossed paths before the beginning of the end. He was willing to bear the burden of killing innocents for you, but your soul will still be tainted with their blood if you allowed them a meaningless death.

“Sir...” The man reiterated his stance, “we are not sick!”

The girl screamed as several gunshots rang out. Jeffery’s body fell to the ground swiftly, a body once filled with life now lifeless. It was you who saved them. It was you who would be haunted by killing Jeffery.

The man was scared for his daughter, his reason to live, and almost lost her to the command of a person. He owed you, “Thank you.”

The girl was bewildered by what had occurred. She was too shocked to thank the person who saved her and her father.

A cover story would be easy to fabricate. Jeffery simply was infected and tried to attack you after you “killed” the civilians you’ve found. “Take her. Get out of here.”

“Thank you so much.” Tears threatened to escape his eyes at the thought of losing his only daughter. He owed this soldier for their kindness; he owed them everything.

Masterlist

#Joel Miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #sarah miller #sarah miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us tv series #the last of us show #the last of us series #joel miller x you #joel miller x soldier!reader #soldier!reader

[damn-stark]

Before dawn

Takes place in-between chapter 1 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

Requested by @sunnybunnyy2 “please please please if you haven't already can you please write about the fight Joel and reader had and why he left her? And or; more about tommy, Maria and readers relationship before she left? It's my favourite the last of us fanfic and I need to know what happened. I am living for all of your stories<3”

A/N- SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG, I JUST NEEDED TO GET IN THE MINDSET FOR THIS SERIES AGAIN, AND I ALSO HAD OTHER FICS THAT NEEDED TO BE WRITTEN, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT THOUGH :)

Warning- ANGST, fluff, talks of death and suicidal thoughts, swearing, long chapter, fluff :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

How long has it been now? 18 years since the outbreak happened? Since…Sarah died? Time just blends together now since it’s been so long. What you are sure of though is that it all feels like a lifetime ago.

What you’d give to go back, to see your sister again, to be with your dad and be a family. That’s your birthday wish this year, for the big 22, to go back in time. Or at least to have five more minutes there, in that bubble that was your life before the outbreak destroyed it.

Then again…why should you wish for such a thing? You haven’t even seen your dad in…8 years?

Yeah, it’s been 8 years now since you’ve seen him, since you’ve spoken to him. You’ve heard about him through your uncle Tommy since they keep in touch over some radio. Which isn’t the same thing, you know, but that’s the best either of you have done.

Sarah would be disappointed. But it’s not like you’re at fault for it! He left! He left you. You just—

“What are you doing?” A voice breaks you from your train of thought.

“Hm?” You hum and drift your gaze to the side, spotting Maria looking at you in confusion.

You look down at the dishes you’re washing and then look at her. “Washin’ dishes?”

Maria’s eyebrows furrow slightly before she just begins to shoo you away. “Come on, move over. Today is the only day you’re excused from your chores, remember?”

Oh right, birthday pass. There’s too much running in your mind to remember.

“You okay?” She asks as you step aside to let her take over.

She knows you well, she’s known how to read you since the moment you met. It’s touching, but kinda weird too.

She’s too observant.

“Yeah,” you lie. “Yeah.” You nod.

Maria’s eyes narrow on you, they dig in you. You can feel the burning sensation, so you just avert your gaze and turn to lean back against the kitchen counter.

“Grease,” you blurt. “I want to watch Grease tonight.”

Maria keeps studying you, but she doesn’t choose to press you, she looks at the dishes and nods slowly. “Okay. And hey, I still have some of that nail polish. We can do each other's nails while we watch the movie.”

You smile at the ground and nod eagerly. “Yeah, that sounds fun. I’ll go get it and start the movie.” You push yourself away and hurry on to do what you said while you think. You try not to, you really try not to think, but it’s impossible now, it’s hard not to think about memories on your birthday.

Sarah used to paint your nails, you tried to paint hers but she always got annoyed that you painted around her nails, so instead your dad let you paint his toenails. Not his fingernails because you didn’t want his friends at work to laugh at him, you were considerate that way.

Your birthdays used to be your favorite, even after the outbreak. It was never big, especially not after, but they tried and you loved it every time. After your fourteenth birthday though, your birthdays were a reminder of what you couldn't have, of what you lost. You’ve tried, there’s been some happy birthdays since you got to Jackson, but this year has been especially hard.

There’s moments where you just wish this was your last.

“…so I told her just to get out of my face,” Maria’s story intrigues you.

You smile softly up at her. “Just like I said?” You tease.

Maria looks up from your nail and nods. “Yeah. Just like you told me.”

You giggle and sit back, you try to just bask in the joy she feels, in the joy you see on your uncle Tommy’s face.

“Sunny, come take my shoes off,” your uncle Tommy says as he puts his boots up on the coffee table.

You scrunch your nose in disgust and scoff. “As if. Do it yourself, chump.”

Your uncle chuckles. “Maria, Sunny here was the nicest girl. The times I’d go visit after work she’d coming runnin’ to greet us. She’d take our shoes off and bring me my beer.”

Maria laughs, and you snort. “Austin can bring you your beer,” you talk about your dog. “Atlas and I trained him to do it.” You smirk proudly.

Your uncle shrugs. “Yeah, well it ain’t the same.”

You roll your eyes and sit back with your right hand still in Maria’s grasp. “Well, you’re gonna have to get a maid then. ‘Cause Maria ain’t doing it either.”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “Because he takes my shoes off.”

You giggle and peer back. “Whipped.” You make the sound effect, and your uncle quickly grabs the pillow off the couch and hurls it at your head.

When it hits you though, it makes you move so Maria gets annoyed. “I just messed up. Thanks a lot.”

“Sorry,” you whisper even if you weren’t at fault.

You then proceed to drift your eyes to the tv to watch the movie that was playing, but neither of you were actually paying attention to due to the small conversations you’re holding.

Well they’re doing most of the talking, you're just listening. And unknowingly showing the emotions you’ve been trying to hide from the both of them.

“Are you okay?” Maria asks.

You blink and slowly meet her gaze. “Hm?” You probe with feigned confusion.

Maria briefly meets your gaze before grabbing your other hand to paint your other hand. “I’ve noticed you’ve been quiet, and you’ve been looking down.”

Shit. Shit.

Your uncle Tommy is waiting for an answer now too. You can feel his stare.

“I…”

It’s not like you can just burst out with everything you’ve been feeling recently—No, everything that’s been building up for the past couple of years. One, you don’t want to ruin today, and two, you hardly know what it is you’re feeling. It’s all so confusing, so unlike you. Angry? Sad? Lost?

“I’m okay,” you assure her and offer her a soft smile so she won’t poke further. “Just, you know, birthday blues over the fact I’m getting a year older. I wish I could look young forever.”

“Such a travesty,” your uncle teases.

“Blah,” you stick your tongue out.

“Hm,” Maria hums unsurely, but just leaves you be again. “Okay.”

You muster a wider smile to show it to her, to assure her even if you do wish for some sort of comfort, for someone to tell you that you’re actually fine. That nothings wrong with you. But you can’t worry them today, so you just watch the movie, and when Maria finishes painting your nails you move on to hers.

Once your nails are painted all nice and look all manicured, you finally pay attention to the movie along with your little family. Maria lays against your uncle, and you lay your head on Maria’s lap and let her caress the side of your head.

It’s a simple moment. Something that maybe you should grow out of, but you can’t help it, you like your little family; Maria, your uncle Tommy, and you. You’re content with them, you like being coddled by them even at 22. It lets you feel safe, something you failed to feel sometimes in your life due to your circumstances.

So…what is it that’s bugging you? That has you so…raveled?

Maybe going to your meadow and laying under the stars will help? Bring some ease to your aching heart?

Thus when the movie is over, after the clock strikes 12 am and brings a new day and ends your birthday, you return home. Rather than walking inside through the front door, you instead walk past the gate and head straight to your meadow in your backyard.

It’s been raining for the best couple of days, and you’ve also been busy so you haven’t had time to come and just find joy in your precious meadow you made for Sarah. Not until tonight.

Yet when you step past the porch fence, when you take a step in the meadow, there’s no flowers decorating the green pasture. Not even the winter wildflowers live, the meadow is dull…For the first time since you began to grow this meadow, it’s empty.

The stars…

You look up, but the sky is clouded, no stars gleam in the sky. The only source of light comes from the porch light. But the sky is dark and grey, dull like the once vivid meadow. And so the relief you came in search for, the joy you ached to find here is nothing but a dream, the very memory of your sister that rested on those very flowers is gone, like her.

There’s nothing here. There’s nothing here for you. Yes, you do find happiness in the little things, in your family that lives here, your friends, your plays you produce and star in, the other people that live here, this town in general, but what do you have to live for?

There’s nothing here. It’s dark, the only light is dim and it’s you, everything else is basked in darkness. You search for more source of light, something to bask the gap in your heart that was once full and complete because of your dad, but when he left, everyday, little by little that gap slowly lost its light. Now you’re alone, dimming away.

So maybe it’s time to go. You’ve been thinking about it, planning it now for a while—it will be a country wide trip. You’ve commented about it to other people and they want to go too.

Will you come back though?

It’s okay if you find your end somewhere out there.

——

*8 YEARS BACK. OUTSIDE BOSTON.*

“Oh!” You exclaim happily, and don’t fret to leave your source of light behind on debris to carefully fit through a gap left between slabs of cement debris.

“Hey! Y/N, what the hell are you doin?” Your uncle Tommy shouts after you.

“I found somethin’ inside, shine your light!” You yell back without bothering to further explain yourself, plus, it’s a closed off room with the only way in and out through the gap you just climbed through. There’s no infected so nothing to worry about.

Your dad will still be pissed though. If he finds out…

Which he will! Your uncle Tommy is a snitch!

“Did you check your surroundings at least,” your uncle has no choice but to just say now.

“Yep,” you groan.

After a few more seconds of hearing little rocks roll down the slabs of cement, after squeezing yourself through a small gap only you fit through, you finally make it out and land in the little break room that was once part of some kind of store.

“I made it,” you comment through the gap.

Finally your uncle does what you had asked and shines his flashlight through the gap, managing to blind you in that instant.

“Just hurry on up,” he counters back, annoyed. “We’re gonna be leavin’ soon.”

You hum in agreement and turn around to face the little corner that was left open.

There isn’t much to search through, but you still start at the top right cabinet.

Albeit there’s nothing. Next; open box of expired crackers, mugs, and more open bags of expired dry food. Great.

Next—haha! Jackpot! Instant coffee!

“Look!” You shout and spin around to show off your sweet find. “It’s coffee!”

“Oh? Really? Closed?” Your uncle asks.

You drop your gaze and double check that it’s still sealed. That there’s no mold or icky stuff.

“Yes! It’s safe!” You squeal, and then slide a backpack strap off your shoulder to stuff the coffee container in your pack. “My dad will love it! Maybe we still have time to boil some.” You throw out happily.

This time your uncle hesitates to answer, so you look up and question his silence. “You hear me?”

You can’t see his face because the light blocks his face, but he hesitates again before simply humming in agreement.

Weird, but you don’t question it. You just continue to search, and end up finding sealed granola bars, and some useful utensils other people glossed over. It’s too bad you can’t search the rest of the store since it’s all crumbled. There probably would’ve been some cool things.

At least you found coffee though.

Which is why you leave the little corner break room and climb back out. Once you’re near the exit your uncle Tommy helps you back up to stable ground.

“Found some granola,” you let him know and hand him one bar. “See, it was worth it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Come on. We’ve been gone longer than we should have already.”

Hopefully your dad won’t be upset, you woke up earlier than he did because your uncle invited you to patrol with him, which he hardly ever does, so your dad didn’t see you leave.

He tends to get mad over little things like this, but you don’t mind much, he just gets worried. Plus today you have coffee for him. It’s his favorite.

“Sunny,” your uncle interjects after staying quiet the entire way back to your camp. “Can I tell you something before we get to camp?”

You brush him off due to your excitement to get the coffee to your dad. “Tell me later, I want to give my dad what I found.” And since camp is right ahead, and your surroundings are clear, you make a run for it back to camp.

The few people that are traveling with you from the Boston Quarantine zone bid you a goodmorning, and you happily greet them back with a gleeful smile, whilst you also search for your dad amongst them.

However, he’s not amongst the crowd. Maybe he’s still resting. So you don’t lose a pep in your step and head to where you last saw him resting.

Nevertheless, when you get to where he had been sleeping, he’s not there, nor is his sleeping bag, or his stuff. Weird…

Maybe he’s just walking around.

Now you slow down and start your careful search.

“Y/N,” your uncle calls out from some paces behind you. “Let’s talk babygirl.”

Where is this man?

You reach the end of the perimeter of your camp and he’s still no where around. He wasn’t with the others, or waiting for you anywhere. So where did he go?

“Uncle Tommy,” you finally address the man as you turn to face him with growing concern. “Where’s my dad?”

Your uncle Tommy finally catches up to you, and quickly averts his gaze while he lets out a deep breath that begins to worry you.

“Uncle Tommy?” You probe and slowly feel your joy fade away and get completely overtaken by concern.

“Y/N,” he mumbles and grabs your shoulder. “Your dad…he’s not coming with us.”

What?

“What do you mean?” You giggle nervously. “He was with us this morning. He left Boston with us. Is this a prank?” You scoff. “Because it’s not funny.”

Your uncle doesn’t break into a laugh, he doesn’t smile, his frown deepens and his eyes express…sadness.

“Your dad is going to stay in Boston,” your uncle adds. “He just wanted to accompany us outside of Boston. But he’s not comin’ along anymore.”

He’s still joking. He—your dad couldn’t have just left you. His daughter. His youngest daughter. His daughter that still needs him. He didn’t leave.

“Stop,” you push your uncle away. “It’s not funny. Where is he?”

Your uncle sighs. “Sunny I’m being serious, your dad left. He’s not comin’...I’m sorry.”

But why?

Your eyes fill with tears and something tight wraps around your heart.

“Then we have to go back,” you begin to insist as you’re now in denial. “We have to go back to him. We can’t just leave him.” You turn to try and head back, but your uncle quickly manages to grab you and pulls you back.

“No, we’re not goin’ nowhere, he wants us to keep goin’. Together.”

You shake your head. “No. I can’t leave without him. Uncle Tommy, he’s my dad. We can’t,” you begin to stammer, feeling your throat begin to burn. “We have to go back. Please.” You keep trying to head back to Boston, but your uncle gets ahold of both of your shoulders and makes you face him.

“I’m sorry, but no. He left. He doesn’t want to come okay? But we’ll see him again. We’ll find a nice town, not one like this Quarantine Zone. You’ll make friends and you’ll learn to fight with the Fireflies in the meanwhile. Okay? And when—”

“Why?” You cut him off with tears streaming down your cheeks. “Why isn’t my daddy comin’?” You felt like a child again. A child exposed to danger, left in the dark. “Why did he leave me? Did I make him mad? Did I do somethin’?”

Your uncle quickly shakes his head. “No, no. Baby, no. He’s just…your dad just wants to stay. I’m sorry I can’t give a better excuse, a different reason, but he wants us to do better. He wants you to do better. Don’t you still want that?”

It’s been your dream, but…

“He doesn’t love me?” You whisper in a shaky voice.

Your uncle nods. “He loves you. I think he’s just strugglin’, it happens you know? I think everything that’s happened affected him differently, and he’s just grown scared to mess up with you. He’s afraid of losing you, I think that’s why he left. But he will never stop loving you. He just needs time, okay?”

You still don’t understand why he left you. But you also don’t really want to go back. Especially not now.

“Okay,” you mutter sadly.

Your uncle wipes away your tears and offers you an assuring smile. “It’s just you and me now, Sunny,” he says.

You feel assured by his words, by the fact that he stayed with you, but now without your dad it feels like something went off inside you.

——

*NOW. JACKSON.*

“I think I can pull it off. I’ve been reading some welding books. I mean I was in construction. How hard can welding a ring be?”

Your uncle Tommy has been going on about fixing Maria’s wedding band that didn’t fit her. You’ve been partially listening throughout your patrol, but your mind drifts to different thoughts about how you’re going to tell him you want to leave. How you’re going to explain it so he won’t get super upset.

“Is it hard?”

You blink and look over at him. His eyes were already on you though, so he catches the fact that you weren’t paying attention. “You okay?” He asks again. This is his second time today. Just like Maria, he suspects something’s wrong.

But you aren’t ready yet. “Yeah,” you lie, and drop your head to brush your fingers through your horse's hair. “I’m fine.”

Your uncle's gaze lingers on you, you feel him study you for a moment. Will he believe you?

“You know,” he interjects. “I’ve been in your life since you were a baby…”

Fuck, you should’ve known better.

“…I raised you for 8 years,” he continues. “It was just the two of us for a lot of those years, so you think I don’t know you, but I do. I know what every little expression means, I know when you’re sad, when you’re angry, especially when you’re excited and happy. I don’t want to drag it out of you, but you’re starting to worry me, Sunny. So tell me, please.”

Fuck. Fuck.

Your eyes are watering, you didn’t want to cry, but every word he said just now triggered those tears you hold back to fill your eyes.

“Well…” you start off slowly and keep your eyes averted. “I…” fuck. “I’ve decided that I’m going to leave.” You slowly drift your eyes to him and notice that he looks confused.

“Leave what?” He asks. “Your house? I thought you liked livin’ there?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I do. But it’s not that. I...” You pause and blink repeatedly as your courage falters. “I’m goin’ to leave Jackson.”

At the sound of your words your uncle brings his horse to a stop, so you follow suit to stay close. He then looks at you for a moment in disbelief before he chuckles dryly, and looks away at the woods that surround you. You don’t add anything, you let him wallow in what you just said and wait.

When he finally finds his emotions, his words, he faces you and shakes his head. “No,” he blurts. “You’re not leavin’ anywhere.”

“Uncle Tommy you can’t make me stay,” you argue. “I’m twenty-two. I’m an adult now, not a little girl or a teenager. I’m grown—”

“You’re not actin’ like it,” he cuts you off frustrated. “I mean it’s stupid. It’s crazy. You have a life here, you’re safe, here. There’s nothing out there but death.”

You shrug and keep holding in your tears. “Yeah, I know that…but I want to take the risk. I need to find who I am. I…don’t know who I am anymore,” you say in a shaky voice. “I’m lost. There’s an emptiness that keeps growing, that keeps pushing away the light that's over me. And I’m afraid if I stay here the darkness is going to swallow me.”

Your uncle scoffs and looks away as he shakes his head. “So what? You think you’re goin’ to find this light by what? Getting eaten by infected?” He spats. “Are you listening to yourself? We don’t live in the other life anymore, y/n, you can’t just grab a backpack and travel the world! The world is dangerous—”

“I know that!” You cut him with frustration that he’s not understanding. “I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” You sit back and exhale deeply, feeling the tears that you tried to hold back finally roll down your cheeks. “But I’m tired, I…I’m tired. I want to travel the country, prove to myself that I can make it by myself. I need to find myself, and that’s not here.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry, but you won’t change my mind. Nor will Maria.”

Your uncle holds your gaze with a hardened pointed glare, and nods along slowly in comprehension. He stays quiet and adds tension to the silence. He drops his head and draws in a deep breath before looking up at you and exhaling.

“Fine,” he deadpans. “Leave,” he spats angirly, and surprises you. “I won’t stop you. You want to die out there, be my guest…”

“Uncle Tommy,” you whimper.

“No, don’t. Your dad left and that hurt. I stayed strong for you, but I was hurt. He was my brother and he left. He chose to break us apart in this desolate world,” he says with cracks in his own voice caused by overwhelming anger. “You made my life good, lookin’ out for you kept me from losin’ myself. But I still live with this gap in my heart because I don’t know if it was Joel’s last day and I didn’t know. So if you go too I won’t let that consume me. I can’t.” He shakes his head. “You want to go? Go. I won’t chase you and I won’t worry.”

And just like that his words cut deep in your already bleeding heart. This isn’t what you wanted, you didn’t expect him to give you his back, not him. He’s the only family you have left since your dad left you. He’s everything to you and so much more, you don’t want him to forsake you.

“Uncle Tommy,” you plead.

“No,” he interjects quickly. “No. Just,” he sputters and nudges his horse's reins. “Don’t. I'm done.” And just like that he rides ahead without waiting for you. He leaves you behind with tears streaming down the curve of your cheeks. He leaves you aching.

But he doesn’t change your mind from what you plan to do. Nothings going to change your mind anymore. You just wanted his blessing, or a comfort. But you got neither.

How will Maria react? He’s probably going to tell her as soon as he gets back home, will she forsake you too?

If she does you’ll truly have nothing. Perhaps then that dimming light will snuff out completely, leaving you with nothing but a vast emptiness.

——

*LATER*

After your uncle Tommy ran out on you, you took the long way back home just to get your thoughts straight. To think of what you need to tell Maria.

She’ll be worse than your uncle perhaps.

Nevertheless, you do hope to run into your uncle to talk, to not leave things tense, but the further you walk inside your gated community, the more hope you lose about seeing him. Other people greet you when they see you, some of his friends wave at you, but you don’t see him amongst them.

You hoped to see Maria too, but she’s also not around—Then again that’s a good thing, you still need time before you talk to her.

One person you do run into though is Apollo, your best friend and housemate. He spots you first and runs at you. When he’s beside you he throws his arm around your neck and pulls you towards him.

“What’s up sunshine!”

You roll your eyes to him and shoot him a teasing look. “Sunshine? If your girlfriend hears she’ll probably beat you.”

Apollo scoffs and shrugs. “Now, now, stop all that yapping, okay? It’s not fair just because you don’t like her.”

You scoff in disgust. “Yeah. I don’t. I can read people you know. She gives me a bad feeling.”

Apollo rolls his eyes and lets you go. You quickly glance at him and see his discontent.

“I'm sorry,” you quickly correct yourself. “I'll try to stop. I'm just…looking out for you,” you explain as you nudge him. “Which is not an excuse, but…” you sigh. “We’ve known each other basically a life time now. It’s my job.”

Apollo meets your gaze and sighs but nods slowly. “I know. What has it been now? Fuck,” he laughs softly. “Seven years?”

You nod. “A lifetime.” You look away from him to look your path ahead.

“Which is why…I know somethings up with you,” Apollo mentions and gently nudges you. “What’s wrong?”

You exhale deeply and drop your gaze. “I told my uncle Tommy about my plans. He…got mad at me, he…turned his back on me,” you reveal in a shaking voice. “I mean i knew—I expected him to get upset, but this? He’s all I got.” You stop walking and sniffle.

Apollo knew about your plans, he knew about them when they were just running thoughts. He of course doesn’t approve of it, but he’s been more lenient.

“You have to just give him a moment to think,” Apollo says as he stops in front of you. “You’re all he has too you know?”

“He has Maria,” you add right away. “His wife.”

“In that case you have Maria too,” Apollo argues.

You slowly look up at him with a watery gaze and shake your head softly. “But does that matter? I view her as a maternal figure, but I’ll never be her child. I’ll never be their child. They’ll have a kid sooner or later and I’ll be forgotten while they stay a family. Which is the reason I shouldn’t be uspet about my uncle really, it’ll hurt less when he eventually leaves me behind like…” you trail off and drop your head to wipe away your tears.

“You’re crazy,” Apollo interjects. “You’re crazy to think that your uncle Tommy and Maria would do that.”

You shake your head in disapproval because your dad left you. The one person you thought would stay in your life forever left you without a second thought. Like if you were a piece of trash.

“You mean the world to them, the both of them,”

He continues. “It’s why your uncle fought against your plans, why he got upset.

Because he can’t fathom the thought of losing you, his niece, a girl he raised through this hell, his daughter.”

You meet Apollo's gaze and let out a soft cry.

“He’s not forsaking you,” Apollo continues softer. “He’s fighting for you. In his own way. You mean something to him. To her. To me. To Mia, Atlas, to everyone that sees the plays you put on with all your love for something you’re keeping alive…isn’t that enough to let you stay?”

You hold his gaze and shake your head.

Apollo nods slowly in comprehension. “Then just give him time, okay?” Apollo asks of you. “He cares.” He offers you a tiny smile, and you wipe your tears off your face and just nod. You can’t actually say anything, you’re too emotional.

“Come here,” Apollo adds and carefully wraps his arms around you.

You let out a small, relieved laugh and hug him back. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Apollo rubs your back and responds softly. “I’m here for you.”

You stay in each other's embrace for a moment longer, basking in each other's warmth and presence. When you do pull away he keeps his arm around you, and you continue your way home.

“Now come on,” he says sweetly. “We can eat lunch and watch something while you come up with what you’re gonna tell Maria. Because…I’m scared for you.”

You chuckle. “I’m scared too. She might tie me up.”

Apollo gasps. “I got your next play!” He exclaims. “Rapunzel! And hey you can actually be locked away in some tower! Talk about bringing your character to life!”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you can’t help but laugh.

He had a way to do that, he finds ways to make you happy when you’re upset. And it worked for a while, he made lunch and you watched a movie, eventually your friend and other housemate Mia came home too, so she joined in and you felt happy. But when the moment was done, when you were alone in your room, the happiness left.

Thoughts overwhelm your mind, different variations of thoughts. Music though…it helps and keeps things quiet.

Albeit there is one person who surfaces to mind. He exists only in your memory, just like Sarah. It’s been 8 fucking years since you’ve seen him. Since he left. And even after all of it, all the ugly side that came out of him, you still want to see him again. Maybe one more time to hug him, have him hold you and remind you of the much simpler things, of home.

You can’t return home, but one warm embrace, his scent will make it feel like you’re home again—

Nevertheless, as you’re lost in thought, suddenly the music from your headphones stops playing. “Hey,” you complain and sit up. That’s when you see Maria with the cord in her hand.

Fuck.

You pull the headphones down to your neck and scoot to the edge of your bed with your gaze averted since she looks upset. “Hey,” you greet softly.

“You missed dinner,” she breaks her silence and throws the cord on the bed.

There’s no time for small talk, you can’t sit here and just pretend she doesn’t know. “Uncle Tommy told you,” you state.

Maria exhales deeply and sits besides you on the bed before she nods. “He told me this crazy ass story that you want to leave.”

You blink repeatedly and sniffle. “He’s mad,” you state again.

“Yeah,” she scoffs. “He’s pissed…” she trails off and lets out a deep sigh before she shifts around to face you. “I wouldn't be a good guardian, protector…mother, if I didn’t try to convince you to stay.”

You slowly drag your eyes up and meet her dark brown eyes with sadness.

“It’s a stupid idea,” she continues with anger in her own voice, in her own expression. “You have a life here. A life you’re building. Things are never going to be easy, life isn’t that simple. But that’s life. Even now.”

You shake your head. “I don’t expect life to be easy,” you argue. “I don’t want to leave because life is hard. I…” you pause and drop your head. “You can’t convince me to stay Maria. I’m not a little girl anymore to be protected, I have to experience on my own if my choices are bad, he can’t decide that anymore.” You shake your head. “I want…” you come to another pause and shake your head.

“I don’t know when I’m going to die,” you continue, “it might be tomorrow, next week or years from now, but it will happen though, and I don’t just want to know these walls. I need to live for myself, not be protected all the time…I want to see the ugly and the beautiful, know it before I die.” You lift your head and meet her gaze with tears running down your cheeks.

“You didn’t let me finish,” she says softly. “I won’t fight you to stay, but you tell me, give me a great reason why I should let you leave. Why you want to leave and I’ll see you off. I’ll accept your existential crisis, I’ll worry but wish you the best.”

You look at her with confusion and probe. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m furious,” she states seriously. “But I want to listen to you. I know somethings wrong, just talk to me.”

It wasn’t your birthday anymore to avoid ruining your day for them, but you also don’t want to burden her with your trauma.

Maria notices your reluctance though and presses you. “Come on please.”

You shrug and wipe away your tears, but still can’t utter a word.

“It better not be because of him,” Maria interjects without naming your father.

You sigh and finally answer her. “I tried, you know. I was scared of everything, but I tried to fight away the fear so he could stop gettin’ mad at me. Because that’s all he was, mad all the time.”

“You were just a kid,” Maria argues.

You nod softly. “Yes, but I had to grow up to survive. So he could look at me with a proud smile and tell me I’m doin’ good,” you continue shakily. “But…no matter what I did it angered him because I could never be her. He loved her deeply, after she died a part of him died too. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he left…” you pause and fight your tears back. “…I was never enough for him. And after he left I was angry, I pretended he was dead…it was easier that way. But I’m still here, and it’s back, that feeling like I’m not worth something, like I’m a failure.”

Tears roll down your cheeks after the fight you tried to maintain didn’t last whatsoever. Maria notices right away and takes your hand in hers.

“That’s not true,” she argues against your comment.

You avert your gaze and sniffle. “But it is, I was never enough for him to stay with me. I’m not enough…I’m a failure.”

“You’re only 22 years old,” she adds. “You’re still young. You still have a lot to accomplish, so much life to live.”

You slowly meet her gaze and counter. “That doesn’t matter or take away from what I feel. That’s why I need to leave. So I can find me, by myself, and not get coddled. I can’t numb away my pain anymore or else I’ll get swallowed by the void that’s already surrounding me.”

Maria holds your gaze and nods along slowly in comprehension. Neither of you say anything for a while, you let her think. And after a while she finally responds by pulling you in an embrace.

“I hate that you feel that way,” she says as you hug her back carefully, almost out of fear she’s going to take it back and just scold you. “I can contradict you in so many ways, but your mind is set. You’re an adult…we can’t force you to stay. Just promise you’ll fight to stay alive. That you’ll come back.”

You nod. “Yes,” you assure her with a wobbly smile. “I swear I’ll fight.” You then pull back and face her. “What about my uncle Tommy?” You slide your hands to your lap and clench them to fists to dig your nails in your palm. “I don’t want to leave with him mad at me.”

Maria scoffs. “Just talk to him. I have. He’s home.”

Your uncle and you don’t argue much, not even when you were younger and your emotions were all over the place, so when you do it was like a tragedy to you, after your anger passed of course. You hate having the sun set on your anger, if you could you resolve your issues that same day. Of course sometimes it takes time, but this time, even if you aren’t leaving at this very moment, you can’t have his back turned on you.

You just hope he feels the same, hopefully he doesn’t want to have days to himself. The longest you’ve gone without talking to your uncle is probably like, two days. You won’t survive a whole week, or weeks!

However, when you do get to their house, since Maria left to let you have time alone, the atmosphere between your uncle and you is full of tension. It’s deafening. He keeps himself busy for a moment, but when he joins you in the living room the silence is awkward.

What can you tell him? You didn’t do anything wrong, and you said everything you needed to say…

Wait!

“I hope you know,” you break the silence softly. “Nothing will change my mind, but I still hope that you can accept and respect my choice. I need you to or else I won’t be at peace.” You look over at him and notice he keeps looking ahead.

Your uncle then proceeds to let out a deep breath, he drops his head and looks at his cup of alcohol solemnly.

“I promised Maria that I’d fight to come back,” you add. “To tell you the truth I was fine not coming back, but…you mean everything to me, I can’t do that to you. Or Maria. So I will fight, I will come back. I promise.”

Your uncle blinks repeatedly and slowly lifts his head and faces you. “You swear it?” He says.

You nod. “I swear,” you assure him.

Your uncle sighs but he then nods softly. You let out a relieved sigh and can’t help it, you throw your arms around him and hug him tightly.

“I love you, you know?” You tell him.

He nods and hugs you back. “I know,” he says. “I love you too. That’s why I got angry. But you didn’t deserve how it came out. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I understand.” You hug him tighter and just relish in the comfort he brings you. You stay in each others embrace for a moment, and this time when you’re apart the silence isn’t full of fucking tension, it’s comfortable.

But after a while he breaks it slowly and in a shaky voice. “The dark days are gone…And the bright days are here,” he continues in a soft sing-song voice. “My Sunny one shines so sincere…”

Oh. Oh! It’s a song, Sunny, by Boney M. He loves to play this song when you’re around, he also loved to play it when he would come to your house before. It’s your song.

“Sunny,” you join in very softly, and with tears rolling down your cheeks and a smile on your face.

“One so true, I love you…” you both trail off and begin to laugh. You then look at one another and chuckle harder.

“I hope you find everything you’re looking for,” he says.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I hope so too.” You then let your head fall on his shoulder, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and press a kiss on the top of your head.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @maplecohen @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @dgraysonss @rana030 @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201 @maeneedsabreak @maelartasch @adristyles @daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @ririvilliams @khaylin27 @hypatia93 @hummusxx @v4mpyk1tten @1donoow @your-shifting-gurl @g4ns3y @izzzzy-the-amazing @aphr0d1teh @lovelyygirl8 @ivy-taylorsversion

#fanfiction #damn-stark #tragedy at the miller's #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #Tommy miller #tommy miller tlou #Maria #maria tlou #Sarah miller #Sarah miller tlou #oc character

[pascalscoffin]

You + Me Is All We Need

Full Pedro Masterlist

Sometimes, the only person a girl can count on is her daddy.

Warning: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. 2007! No outbreak! No x reader or anything this is just a little insight on life inside the Miller house on a particularly rough day. Absent Mother. Depressed Sarah. Mentions Sarah might have an ED (she doesn’t I swear she’s just depressed). Mentions of Ellie x Sarah (they’re the same age).

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Somethings been wrong with Sarah lately, Joel’s not a hundred percent sure what it is but he can tell somethings been bothering her. Every time he’d go to bring it up though, he would chicken out and change the subject and it would make him feel a hundred times worse than he had before he opened his stupid mouth.

He’d thought, after graduation and with college right around the corner she’d be happier, go out with friends, maybe go on some dates with Ellie. He hadn’t even heard her say anything about her in about a week, which was odd because she was usually bringing up every little fact she could think of.

He’d noticed she was on her phone a lot more, scowled at it more, she didn’t push for movie nights nearly as much as she used to, most of the time rushing off to her room with her nose buried in her cellphone. He’d talked to Tommy and Maria, who both agreed she was probably just being an angsty teenager, but it didn’t feel like that, it felt like he was watching his babygirl struggle and there was nothing he could do. She ate less, talked to him less, she was just… not the same and it was hurting him to see her that way.

She’d started going on runs, he noticed, early in the morning before he got up. He started getting up earlier just to make sure she would actually make it back, watching her take off from his bedroom window, sometimes at half speed, other times at complete full speed. This wasn’t normal teenage angst, he was a teenager, he couldn’t remember ever choosing to run at five am at full speed.

Maria suggested she was having body issues and while Joel considered the running and not eating as evidence of that, it just didn’t… feel right. It wasn’t that, either. Eventually, he decided he’d stop asking other people for advice on his daughter, and he’d just ask her himself.

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She wasn’t there. She wasn’t fucking there. She promised she’d be there! The words echoed in Sarah’s head as her feet pounded into the pavement, tears streamed down her face, and Hert-Shaped Box blaring into her ears as her headphone cords hit her chest with each stomp. Ellie was responsible for her vast arrange in music taste. The Hannah Montana songs now accompanied by bands like Nirvana, No Doubt, and 4 Non Blondes.

She should text Ellie at least, she’s been messaging her ever since graduation, asking if she was alright, if she wanted her to come over. She had come over but Sarah had told Joel to just send her away, not feeling up to guests. Sarah’s kept her completely in the dark, didn’t even greet her after she faked her way through photos with her family. Ellie had known Michelle was supposed to be at graduation, and had sent Sarah an I’m sorry text when she noticed she wasn’t there.

Sarah had been showing her photos the entire week leading up to graduation, having found Michelle’s Facebook and decided on a whim to message her. Michelle had seemed so happy to talk her, replying quickly but gradually the texts got more distant, and then radio silence after not showing up at her graduation. Had even sent Sarah a photo of her getting into her car with the message ‘headed to you!’ With a heart that Sarah had fallen for immediately.

Worst of all, when she’d gone to find Michelle’s Facebook and ask her what happened she was blocked, she’d worried and thought something happened, and then Ellie, after being forced by Sarah, looked up the Facebook account and it was full of new pictures of her with her family at the beach on the day of graduation. Sarah had been heartbroken, had left Ellie’s house without a word and ignored her dad the rest of the night when she got home, sobbing into her pillow.

She didn’t know why she didn’t tell Joel, maybe because she was scared he’d tell her the truth- that Michelle left for a reason. She wasn’t going to suddenly have a change of heart. It was something Sarah had already known, already told herself even without Joel saying it that that was the case. And she’d been fine with it. Completely fine with it.

Until prom happened and Maria helped her get ready in areas that Joel couldn’t. Like doing her hair better than a few braids or buns, which she had no problem with, but it was prom, she needed to go all out. She’d gone on Instagram while Maria was doing her hair, and was assaulted with photos of girls getting ready with their mothers and her heart sank to her stomach and stayed there.

She loved Maria, she did. But Maria was her aunt, not her mother. Prom was something you got ready for with your mother. Your mom was supposed to annoy you for photos while your dad tried to coax her away. But instead. Sarah had Maria and Tommy and Joel, who took a respectful amount of photos before sending her on her way with Ellie.

She just wished she’d had a mother growing up. Joel was great and she loved him more than anything. But there was always something tugging in her chest, and until recently she hadn’t put it together.

She ran until her feet hurt, stumbling to a stop and dropping to her knees on her front lawn, wheezing heavily as she tried to catch her breath. She felt a large hand on her should and flinched back, yanking her headphones out as she looked up, relaxing a bit when she saw Joel looking down at her worriedly. “Dad-“

“Sarah.. come on let’s get you some water.” Joel frowned deeply and helped her off the grass. “I… we need to talk.” He sighed heavily as he took her inside, gathering the words in his head as he grabbed her a glass of water. And then he got her some bread and the butter for toast.

“I’m not-“ “eat it or I’ll make you.” Joel sat next to her on the couch and rubbed his face as he sighed, watching her pick up the bread and take a bite. “You haven’t eaten a full meal in days, babygirl. You’re worrying me.” “There’s nothing to be worried about.” “There is. Somethings going on with you and I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“You can’t help anyway, dad.” Sarah looked down at the taste in her hand, tears in her eyes. “If you tell me I can try.” Sarah huffed and threw the toast down on the coffee table. “You won’t get it.” “Why? Because I was a teenager twenty years ago? I still remember being one.”

“God why is it always because I’m a teenager?!” Sarah stood up and threw her hands up. “Or because I’m a girl- or-or because I’m on my period?!” Joel leaned back, eyes widened a little, he opened his mouth to speak but Sarah cut him off. “You won’t get it dad because both of your parents loved you!” She screamed.

“Sarah-“ Joel stood up quickly and moved around the coffee table, frowning when she took a step back from him. “You- you had a mom and a dad! And they were both there! Papa tau-taught you how to-to do all that guy stuff and-and granny taught you the-the other stuff.” She was hyperventilating now, sobbing as Joel grabbed her shoulders and the tears streamed down her face. Unable to even think of what mothers teach their children in her frantic state.

“I can’t even get my mom to show up to my graduation!” She sobbed loudly, dropping her head as her hands covered her face. “Sarah…” Joel tried to pull her closer but she shoved him away. “No!” She sobbed. “No I don’t understand!” She yanked her phone out of her pocket and wiped her eye as she opened Facebook and showed Joel the blocked account. “She told me she would be there and then she blocked me!”

She threw her phone across the living room. “And-and I went to Ellie’s and she-she looked on her Facebook and she’s at the fucking beach with her new family!” Joel didn’t really know what to do, letting her vent and scream as much as she needed to.

“Fuck her!” She yelled at the phone, her shoulders shaking. “I don’t need her. I don’t.” She shook her head rapidly. “I didn’t need her to-to teach me how to tie my shoes or-or ride a bike, or play soccer, or do my hair, or help me get ready for-for my first date-“ Joel started to move closer to her as she continued. “I don’t need her to be there for my wedding. I didn’t need her to be there to get me ready for prom, I didn’t need her at graduation! I don’t need or want her advice for anything!”

When Joel grabbed her this time she finally broke, turning to look up at him and sobbing, “Why won’t she love me, daddy?” Joel’s eyes filling with tears as he pulled Sarah into his chest, lowering them both to the ground when he noticed her whole body starting to shake.

Joel wasn’t good with words, in fact he fucking sucked at them. But as he sat there on the floor with his 18 year old daughter curled up in his lap, sobbing over a woman who couldn’t think twice about her if her life depended on it, he knew he couldn’t let her feel this way. Like it was her fault.

“Listen to me.” He whispered into the top of her head before taking a deep breath and rubbing her back. “What Michelle does has nothing to do with you and whether or not you deserve to be loved.” He hugged her tighter. “Because you do, babygirl. You’re funny and so smart and you’re beautiful and your smile is out of this world.” He shook his head. “Don’t let her actions, her failures as a human being, dictate how you perceive yourself. Michelle… she’s set in her ways and it has nothing to do with you. She’s sick, honey. There’s something… not right about her and I don’t want you to get caught up in her web of lies and misery.” He whispered.

“You’ve got a great life without her. A girl that’s crazy about you, a dad that would take down the Incredible Hulk if it would make you happy, a loving aunt and uncle and a cousin on the way.” He pulled back and cupped her cheeks to make her look at him. “You’re doing wonderful without her and you don’t need her coming into your life and messing it up. Show her you can be happy without her, can move on in your life without her.”

Sarah’s lip wobbled, her tears having stopped by now as she listened to Joel, nodding weakly before hugging Joel tightly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so mean to everyone and I’m starving and I started ignoring everyone and-“ “and you stink.” Joel teased. Sarah gasped and pulled away, seeing nothing but fondness in his eyes as she shook her head.

“Just cause you run like you’re running from the police or something. Go take a shower, I’ll make you something to eat and we’ll watch whatever you wanna watch.” He said softly, helping her stand up, relieved she had her strength back. “… can you make your empanadas? And put in Curtis and Viper?”

Joel smiled softly and nodded, surprised she actually wanted to watch that movie. “Yeah. I can make empanadas and put in Curtis and Viper.” He chuckled when she smiled and turned around to go shower, shaking his head before slowly letting his smile drop and his jaw tense.

Fucking Michelle.

Sarah wouldn’t be a hundred percent yet, he knew that, and it would likely be a while before she felt and acted like her old self again. He was glad he could calm her down, though. It was just taking every remaining cell in his body not to make one of those Facebook accounts for the soul purpose of absolutely reaming Michelle for her behavior, but part of him new she would thrive too much off of that, to know that she upset another human being so deeply.

So, instead, while he was cooking he did make a Facebook, but not to search out Michelle and lay into her, even if he wanted to so bad. He made his profile picture a photo of him and Sarah and immediately loaded the account with photos of her or the both of them together.

He posted every picture of prom, graduation, and school events before then. He was proud of Sarah and he wasn’t going to let his lack of technology or Michelle’s sick heart let it go unnoticed.

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How do we feel about background Ellie x Sarah?

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #Joel tlou #Joel miller tlou #Sarah miller #Sarah tlou #Sarah miller tlou

[brighttears]

There and Back

Joel Miller (not an x reader)

Summary: Memories of Sarah come back one miserable morning in Joel and Tess’s Botson QZ apartment.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: drinking, mentions of pill abuse, basically depression and ptsd symptoms, grief and mourning, talk of (Sarah’s) death, brief and vague suggestion of suicidal thoughts, brief mention of Christian beliefs (hell), smoking (cigarettes), blood (very little), pure angst

A/n: anything about Sarah makes me tear up so easily god this was distressing to write idk why i feel like i needed to christ. also not a x reader fic idc this one was for me

—

He woke disoriented, small, aching, and thirsty. With wisps of her screams still in his ears, Joel had crawled from the bed, clumsily pushing the dresser away by backing himself into it, and fished around under the floorboards until his hand hit a thick glass bottle.

Today’s breakfast is smuggled whiskey. He doesn’t work until much later and Tess has the opposite schedule. So, Joel sits accompanied only by the peeling wallpaper, silent radio, and this bottle before him, full of orange, drowned prayers for some kind of relief. He dumps a pour into his short glass and sets the bottle back down on the table with a bang. Slumping in his chair, he takes a deep breath. He still has glimpses of self awareness, he sees himself here, drinking first thing in the morning, not really wanting to, but she’s still in his ear, those rapid, desperate breaths—his eyes squeeze shut and grabs the glass and throws it back. He dumps another shot, and then another. 

Joel calls himself a coward with every hot swallow. At this point, he probably drinks more whiskey than water, though it's often almost half water itself anyways. He drinks so that he’ll keep drinking when he’s drank enough to not give a shit about anything anymore and the waves that crash over him become lukewarm rather than scorching hot or cuttingly cold. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes, if he sets it up just right, when the whiskey closes his eyes, just before he falls back into the nightmares, he remembers her and feels warm, and is dumb-drunk enough to maybe even be able to smile. 

Sarah comes up throughout the day every day, but the memories are of all the times he was a horrible father, all the times he failed her, and if something like her smile does come up, it brings along a heavy coat of sticky despair and heartache, like tar, he feels it drip hot over his skin. 

There’s a hole in him that won’t be filled, not with alcohol, pills, Tess, work, anything he tries, like he was shot through that night too, only he lived walked away from it. Joel does not have an answer to the question of if he wishes he’d died that night, too, not anymore at least. He just knows that he needs to stay alive for Tommy and for Tess. So, he downs his fourth shot while the sun’s still rising. 

—

In the driveway, Sarah cries softly, holding her shin to bend her leg and watch the blood just begin to bubble up from her scratched knee.

“It’s alright, babygirl, I’ll go get your Hello Kitty bandaids, alright?” He kneels in front of her, brows raised reassuringly but pained. Sarah nods softly, lip quivering, a teardrop forming on her chin, not taking her eyes off of her knee. Joel reaches his hand to her cheek, thumbing away a stream of tears. “I’ll be right back. Okay?” Looking up, she nods again.

Joel practically runs through the house, throwing himself into the bathroom and swinging the medicine cabinet open with unnecessary force, snatching up the bandaids and Neosporin. Her face when he comes back in through the garage door kills him. “Oh, babygirl, it’s alright. We’ll make it all better, see?” he says, kneeling back on the ground to address the shallow wound. 

As he spreads a dot of Neosporin over it, Sarah sniffles and wipes her forearm over her face. “It doesn’t even hurt, that’s not why I’m upset.” Her voice is wet from crying.

“Then what is it, baby?” he asks as he crosses two bandaids over her knee.

“It’s because I fell off the bike again. This is like the fifth time I’ve fallen off.”

“You’re frustrated, huh?” Joel looks at her, resting one knee on the ground and his arm over his other, crouched. 

“Yeah.” She breaks into tears again as she answers. 

“Oohh, baby, that’s alright,” he brushes his thumb over her cheek again, “it’s ok to be frustrated. But you know what?” Sarah looks up at him, eyes wet, brows furrowed, lip quivering, “You keep gettin’ up! That’s the important part, sweetheart. That’s how you learn new things. You just gotta keep tryin’. Keep gettin’ back up.” She nods and sniffles, then wipes her arm over her face again. “You wanna pick this back up tomorrow, we can go inside and I’ll get you a popsicle?”

Sarah stays sitting, blinking at the ground for a moment before she replies, “No. I wanna try again.”

“You sure?”

She meets his eyes with fierce determination and nods. He almost grins, adoring her perseverant nature. 

“Alright then.” Joel nods as she stands up, watching her chest rise and fall with deep, calming breaths. On his feet, he leans to put his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes when he tells her, “You can do this. I know you can. Just takes practice.”

She nods definitively, then rights her bike again and climbs on, Joel behind her with his hands ghosting support as she puts her feet back on the pedals.

—

Joel only cries when Tess isn’t here and there’s already a baby crying or some screaming fight to drown it out. Sometimes it puts him to sleep—mourning is tiring; it twists him up and squeezes him out. He’s surprised he still has anything left to be squeezed out after all these years, but he just saw her, he just lost her all over again. It gets heavy in his chest, a rain cloud growing thicker, heavier, darker, and he’s no god, he can do nothing about a storm, even if it’s his. Does he have the grief, like he had Sarah, or does it have him, like she does?

Sometimes he cries so hard that he starts calling for his mother, or Tommy, or for Sarah herself, lost in desperation for something—an end to the pain, just a break from it, death, comfort, Sarah. He’ll start walking around the apartment, looking for something, he doesn't know what or if it even exists, he just doesn’t know what else to do. The grief is a little creature dancing around inside of his body holding a knife, and he’ll grab at his chest, wanting to rip himself open so that he can find it and kill it. Still, after all these years, it hasn’t left, and he can still shatter. He wails, rips his hair out, sets his gun down across the room and stares at it as he weeps. 

This is why he doesn’t die, because he knows grief and he loves Tommy.

Besides, he deserves this pain, doesn’t he? It was his fault. He failed her. If there's a hell, he knows that's where he’s going. Until then, purgatory. He’ll never see Sarah again.

He pours another glass of whiskey and immediately slams it. What else is there to do?

—

“You got everythin’ in there sweetheart?” Joel asks as Sarah slips her fat, new, purple backpack over her shoulder.

“Dad, if anything, I’m overprepared.”

“Well, I just wanna make sure you, y’know, have everythin' they want you t' have, I mean their little… packing lists weren’t all that clear,”

“I’ll be fine, dad,” she smiles over her shoulder with her eyebrows raised, and then starts for the front door, “come on, I’m gonna miss the bus and you’re gonna be late for work.”

“Shit.” he says under his breath, almost falling forward tugging his shoes on.

Tommy, smoking a cigarette leaned against the truck, flicks his butt and joins Sarah walking to the curb. “You excited for your first day?”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.”

“You nervous?” Joel asks, walking up with his hands on his hips.

“Shit, they should be nervous about you comin’ in there and blowin’ all their hat’s off with that big brain a yours.” Tommy says and Sarah laughs.

“Tommy, watch your mouth.” Joel grumbles, then turns to her, raising his eyebrows and pointing his finger at her, “Don’t repeat that.”

“Oh, she can handle it. Big girl now, middle school, movin’ up in the world.” He ruffles the top of her head and she ducks away, combing it back down, and then the big yellow school bus is rumbling up the street, rolling right up to them with a polyphonic squeak. 

Sarah stands on her toes to kiss her dad on the cheek, then her uncle, and walks backward towards the bus doors as they fold open, waving, “Bye dad! Bye Uncle Tommy! Have a good day at work!”

“Okay, bye sweetheart, I’ll be there at three, okay?”

“Okay dad!” she calls over her shoulder, hands on the straps of her backpack as she steps onto the bus’s stairs.

“Alright, I love you sweetheart. Have a good day.”

“Go kick some ass!” 

“Tommy, there are middle schoolers on that bus.” Joel scolds him quietly. 

“Love you too! I will! See you at three!” Sarah twists and waves one more time on the last step up, then disappears around the corner with a smile. 

“Phew…” Tommy sounds as they watch the doors fold back up and the bus spits and rumbles away, “middle school… they ain’t fuckin’ around when they say they grow up fast.”

“You got that right.” Joel sighs heavily, watching the bus turn the corner and slip from view.

“Alright, brother, come on, we’re already late.” Tommy slaps him on the shoulder and walks to the truck. Joel follows, getting in and pulling on his seatbelt in silence. “Hey,” Tommy says, catching his nervous demeanor, “she’ll be fine, Joel. Bet you’re more nervous than she is.”

“No, I know,” he answers, as he turns the keys, “I’m not worried, I know she’ll do great. She’s always been great at school.” He cranes his neck both ways as he pulls straight out and starts down the road, heading in the opposite direction of the bus, “I just… you’re right. They grow up so gotdamn fast. Feels like yesterday I was showin’ her bunny ears on her shoelaces before first grade. N’ soon enough she’ll be goin’ away to college—”

“Ah, come on, Joel. We got years with her before then. Don’t lose time now worryin’ about losin’ it later.” Tommy watches him.

Joel sighs. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“‘Course I am.” He smirks, lighting a cigarette. 

—

Joel rests his chin over his arm down on the table, examining the dehydrated-piss-colored alcohol left at the bottom of the thick glass he holds in his other hand stretched out in front of him. He sighs through his nose. His eyes hurt. If only the radio would turn on. Any fucking song, any fucking decade, just some sound to take him out of his forlorn and barren internal world, some kind of connection with someone somewhere. 

Joel tells himself that he never gets lonely, but it’s a fat lie, and he wants Tommy here right now so much it hurts. He misses Tess, but he doesn’t want her to see him like this, he’s too ashamed. Tommy has seen him like this. Tommy would help. Tommy would have his hand on his back and he wouldn’t have to say a word, just be here with him. He knew her. He’s the only person in the world that he shares memories of her with, he’s the only other person who knows what a horrible loss Sarah is to the world. 

Joel wants his brother. He drowns the rock in his throat with more harsh, shitty, liquid failure of a relief. 

If Tommy dies, if he’s already dead somewhere, Joel will be the very last carrier of her left. When he dies, she’ll be entirely forgotten, just some bones somewhere, maybe never even those to be seen again, never considered as a former person, a former light of someone’s life, a former bright future, best friend, life saver, a daughter someone was going to cheer for at graduation or walk down the aisle or pick up from asleep in the car and carry upstairs to tuck into bed. No one will know what her fucking smile could do to you or how her eyes are actually golden or that her favorite color is purple and she knows karate and loves pancakes and how spirited she is in her own quiet way, what a truly, purely good person she is, what a big heart she has, how much she is loved. No one will ever know that her name is Sarah and that she is the best thing that ever happened on this fucking planet and she died when she was twelve. 

—

Happiness is a casual presence in the house. It’s the air around Sarah, she fills every room with it just by walking through and passes it to Joel and Tommy like rescue breaths. She was born with love filling every empty space it could fit into within her body and with a creative brain to help her find every way she could to express it. 

At the table, it’s spilling out of her pen as she naturally flows out detailed, spiraling flowers in her notebook. She doodles life, blooming, birth. Tangled, thornless roses, beds of twirling colors over any blank space that happens to catch her attention. Her face is clearly focused in a way that makes her look very far away, deep in her mind. In one smooth, rushed motion, she switches out her pink pen for a blue one out of the case of new glittery pens that he’d just gotten for her.

He doesn’t want to interrupt but he can’t help himself. He values so much being able to continually get to know her as she grows up, always curious about what’s going on in her mind, and there’s always so much. Joel can barely keep up, but he loves to try. 

“Why blue instead a pink?” He asks, head tilted and a smile playing on his lips as he watches from across the table, leaning over the Sunday newspaper that he isn't actually reading.

“Hm?” She looks up and her light eyes glint in the sun coming in through the windows.

“Why’d you change from pink to blue? Just curious.”

Sarah shrugs. “Just cause, I guess. Did you know, though,” Joel grins, elation warming his chest, “colors have meanings, like in movies, different colors symbolize different things. So, pink is love and kindness, but like, playful, because red is also for love, but pink is more friendly. And, of course, it's associated with femininity. Blue,” she points the pen at him, “I thiiink,” she squints an eye at the ceiling, “is... freedom, calmness, trust, and loyalty.” She smiles at him like she always does when she gets to teach him something. It’s one of Joel’s favorite qualities about her—she’s smart, sharp as hell, and she loves to share it. 

“Hm. I didn’t know that.” He takes a sip of coffee from his thick brown mug.

Pleased, Sarah turns her attention back down, swirling and dotting blue flowers out from the pink ones. 

—

It’s so goddamn quiet today and time is moving so slow. There’s nowhere for him to go and Tess is his only friend. 

He's alone. It’s such an ugly thing. Loneliness is not empty but filled with itself. 

Joel shoves dirt into himself, ash, blood, spit, anything, trying to patch up that hole, trying to bring the world back into his hands, clawing at the water to cup in his hands, like he had it before. He had it, he had it, he had it. 

Nothing works. Of course it doesn’t; while he shoves it in he knows it and he knows why. There is only one thing that is compatible there in him and he knows what it is because he was there when it became a part of him and now it’s gone, dead, cold, still, dry bones. His daughter-shaped hole remains empty. 

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fic #joel miller #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou hbo #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show #sarah miller #sarah miller tlou #sarah the last of us #sarah tlou #the last of us angst #tlou angst #joel angst #joel miller angst

[dyingroses]

#the last of us #tlou #sarah miller #sarah miller tlou #sarah tlou #joel miller #connie adler #danny adler #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #lols #post

[mrsquill]

My Girl

soft!Joel Miller

Summary: Hi! I don’t write much and I don’t write often, but once an idea takes hold of me, I can’t help it! So here’s this. It’s 1995; and Joel, Tommy and Sarah have been invited to their new neighbourhood’s barbecue. Joel is a little.. nervous.

Notes: Short but (hopefully) sweet! Apologies again if any cultural references are wrong, and I’m using the timeline set by the show. No outbreak is ever going to happen here! I just love soft, domestic Joel and his little family so much. Based on the HBO series characters.

Warnings: Fluff, a little bit sad, swearing, mentions of pregnancy and mental health issues, mentions of parent death (briefly, not Sarah’s mother). I hope that’s everything!

Joel adjusted his shirt collar in the reflection of his bathroom mirror, tugging anxiously at the fabric, anticipating Tommy’s joking remarks about how uncomfortable he looked. Ever since Denise had mentioned the neighbourhood barbecue a few weeks back he’d been dreading it, and the day had finally come. They’d only moved to the street six months ago, and today was the proper initiation.

Not that he didn’t get along with his neighbours; the community was great already, lots of parents sharing school-drop offs, collection from various soccer practices, and helping out in the evenings if parents had work or social commitments. Which Joel did, a lot of the time - specifically, work. He couldn’t remember when he last did anything remotely social.

Tommy was the bigger butterfly out of the two. Joel was happy to hang back and let his baby brother do the introductions; his hands firmly planted on his little girl’s shoulders as he stood shifting nervously from foot to foot, anticipating the hushed questions and raised eyebrows. He knew their family dynamic was a little unusual, but damn, everybody had seen Full House, right?

Truth was, Joel never really had an answer ready when he was approached about Sarah’s mom. She was six now, growing faster and more curious every day. He would never want his daughter to be subjected to petty gossip, so he was pretty closed off in his responses. ‘It’s always just been the three of us’, Joel would smile tightly if someone tried to pry, Sarah’s emotions far more important to him than being known as a grouch.

Sure, Joel would tell Sarah, when she was ready and he felt she was old enough. It was gonna break him; he could feel it already, her big brown eyes filling with tears and squeezing the breath out of him, wondering why her mom wasn’t around. And he’d tell her; she was sick, baby. It wouldn’t have been fair on either of you. Which was true, because she had been.

Melissa hadn’t been ready, and hell if Joel was, either; they were fooling around, both 22-years-old and dumb as shit. It was too late to do anything by the time she’d realised she was pregnant, and Joel felt his life sliding away from him, like a cliff disintegrating into the ocean. Sure, he’d like a kid one day, but now?! Fast forward to the day Sarah arrived, and his future was sewn up. The minute she gripped his pinky tentatively and blinked up at him slowly with his own brown eyes, he was done for. She had Joel’s heart forever.

Melissa took off a few weeks later. They’d been staying with his parents, the atmosphere was claustrophobic at best. Joel knew she was struggling; he’d taken on the night feeds and was an expert with a diaper after the first few weeks, Melissa retreating to their bed and staying there for days on end. He tried in vain to help her, but she refused him at every turn. His momma broke the news to him after he’d come home from a twelve hour day on site, busting his ass to scrape cash together so his daughter could have the best.

Melissa had gone. Sarah was Joel’s responsibility now, she couldn’t be involved. It was making her ill. And that was that. Joel and Tommy bought their first house together a few years later; working all hours getting their contracting business off the ground, Joel’s sole motivation being Sarah’s health and happiness.

She’d wanted a pink bedroom and he’d done it for her; painting late into the night as she snoozed with Tommy on the couch downstairs. His back was creaking miserably like an old fuckin’ man, and his hands were worn in a way that should belong to someone far more advanced in years than he, but nothing in his soul would change that. Sarah was everything to him.

That’s why, Joel reasoned with himself now, it’s important to show up to events like this barbecue. He knew it meant a lot to his little girl; she inherited her talkativeness from her loving uncle, and there was no stopping the amount of friends she was collecting. Sarah had been babbling it about it all week, wanting to break out her best dress and new birthday sneakers.

Joel sighed in front of the mirror; trying to ruffle his black curls into some sort of submission when something caught his eye above his temple in the fluorescent lighting. A grey fuckin’ hair. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose, imagining the jokes Tommy would make if he saw. He was 28, dammit. Joel tried to envisage himself with silver streaks throughout his hair and the scruff along his jaw; that shit won’t suit me, he surmised. I’d be better off bald.

Half an hour later, and the three of them were walking across the road to Denise and Carl’s; Texas sun still high in the sky as Tommy carried the brisket like precious cargo, Joel with a case of beer, and Sarah with the sheet cake they’d made that morning under her arm.

Baking and cooking were some of their favourite things to do together; before his momma had died when Sarah was two, she’d insisted her grandbaby be fed well, and Joel knew he was a pretty decent cook. Tommy had snickered a few times at the sight of Joel in an apron, but not a sound was to be heard from him as he’d sit down and eat through hours of Joel’s labour. Typical baby brother behaviour.

Denise greeted them excitedly at the door, thanking them for their contributions and showing them to the backyard. Joel counted about seven different families in attendance: adults milling around the barbecue, younger kids jumping in the pool and the teenagers clustered around the boombox. He wasn’t sure where’d he fit, exactly; unlike his daughter, who sped off towards a group of girls practising a Mariah Carey track without a backwards glance at her daddy.

To Joel’s relief, the evening was relatively painless - Denise must’ve given the others a heads up about us, he mused as he pulled from his third beer, alcohol relaxing his bones. There hadn’t been a question - yet - about his parenting situation; rather, he and Tommy had gained a few potential clients: turned out the Adlers next door were dying for an attic conversion, and the Johnsons would love a bathroom remodel. He was doing good. Joel had surprised himself, smiling as he watched Tommy proving his one and only culinary talent - an expert on the barbecue.

The string lights overhead had begun to glow in an abundance, fiery orange in the setting sun. Denise had finally stolen the boombox from the teens, and had been steadily feeding it her collection of CDs as the night wore on. Joel turned his head as she stood up and clapped her hands, commanding the attention of all in the backyard as a relative hush fell. ‘This one’s real special to me,’ she smiled, indicating the song that had started softly playing - My Girl by The Temptations. ‘I’d like it if we could have a daddy-daughter dance,’ she announced, throwing her hand out to her own elderly father in his chair.

Joel felt himself tense up a little on the bench he was sitting on; fathers and daughters were coming together on the lawn with grins and laughter as the song went on. Sarah stood awkwardly as she eyed her father, knowing - even at six - that this wasn’t his bag. Tommy cleared his throat, indicating to Joel with a shake of his head that his daughter was waiting for him. Joel swallowed; he wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. He was accomplished on the guitar, and could even hold a tune, but dance?

He glanced over at Sarah again; she was chewing her lip anxiously, her soft little hand was outstretched towards him, just like it was the day she was born. Joel heaved himself up and made his way over to her, picking her up easily in his arms. Ain’t no way he could say no to that face. Sarah’s countenance transformed; she grinned at her father, proudly showing off the first tooth she’d lost last week.

‘I’ve got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees’, Joel crooned softly into her ear, making her giggle as he swayed them together - the most dancing anyone would get out of him. She laid her head on his chest, her brown curls tickling his chin. He rubbed slow circles on her back; the way he always had done to soothe her when she got sick, or got the hiccups after Tommy gave her too much soda. ‘You enjoyin’ yourself, baby girl?’ He asked quietly, pressing a kiss to her hair. Sarah hummed in agreement.

‘Talkin’ ‘bout my girl,’ Joel sung quietly. Sarah turned in his grasp to look up at him. ‘Jessica doesn’t have a daddy,’ she murmured; looking over at a weepy little girl being comforted by a woman Joel assumed was her mom, rocking her back and forth in her lap. ‘That’s very sad, bug,’ he sighed, shifting Sarah in his arms to hold her a little closer; unable to help the comparison with Sarah’s lack of a mother, and wondering if his daughter was thinking the same thing.

‘I told her.. Maybe we could share, because I have the best daddy in the world. I told her that we could all make a pillow fort, because you make them the best - that would be okay, wouldn’t it, daddy?’ Sarah mumbled in earnest, splintering Joel’s heart in two. ‘Yes, baby, that would be okay,’ he choked, pressing another kiss to her hair. ‘That was very kind of you, Sarah,’ he murmured, amazed at her compassion, as the song drew to a close.

Sarah had taught him so much already in six short years; they had really been babies together at the start. Joel’s parenting journey hadn’t been easy, and he knew it would only undoubtedly get harder from here. Small wins, he said to himself, a reminder not to get stuck on the future; worrying about things he couldn’t possibly try to know. He was simply bursting with pride at the way Sarah had so earnestly decided he was the best daddy in the world. For now, that meant this - their life together - was enough. He was enough.

#just joel trying his best ya know #joel miller #sarah miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel miller drabble #sarah miller the last of us #sarah miller tlou #tommy miller #tommy miller tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us hbo fanfiction #my stuff

[loadedberetta]

TLOU AU idea,???

okay OKAY hear me out here (minor spoilers I guess)

Tommy arrives a hair earlier, and the soldier shoots him (since he has a gun, he's a bigger threat) but not before Tommy could land a few hits too

Joel and Sarah survive (!!!!) and Tommy tells them to leave him behind (maybe to even off him but Joel doesn't have the heart to do it) since he's wounded and therefore is a liability

story starts from there; AU with (self-indulgent) reader insert

#don't worry about Tommy he has plot armour #Tess is there too #am I evil for doing this #tlou au #tlou tess #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #tlou 1 #tlou #the last of us #the last of us game #the last of us 1 #joel miller #sarah miller tlou #tommy miller #joel x tess #reader insert

[macbeth-s]

#two types of girl dads

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #tlouhboedit #thelastofusedit #tvedit #tvgifs #tlou spoilers #dailytvfilmgifs #dailyflicks #hboedit #pedro pascal #joel miller #sarah miller #ellie williams #myedit

[akariamai]

Reunited

Part 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x soldier!reader

Word Count: 1286

Night terrors terrorized your mind at every waking moment, daydreams turned into nightmares. It began with the dreadful order that fateful night, an order to kill without a single thought of the innocent family desperately searching for help, and the death of Jeffery. You could still hear the loud report of the gun firing followed by the sound of his body falling limp onto the ground. The frightened screech from the young girl in the arms of her father and the pleas of a powerless father. They tormented you within your dreams and loomed over you in your waking moments. It became a never-ending cycle.

A more recent memory loomed over your nightmares. It came in the form of another order, one you could not escape or defy, stuck in your attempts to pretend. The rationale behind the order was devastatingly correct but morally wrong. It came in the form of a massacre of the innocent. A tale of a quarantine zone filled to the brim, without the need of more mouths to feed, and blood soaked the Earth. The dead cannot be infected, a saying your commanding officers used to justify their horrific decisions. Your heart broke as you watched the light of the children’s eyes dim into nothingness. You were killing your soul for the sake of the military, not for the sake of the people.

The reflection inside the mirror showed you someone unrecognizable and tainted. Your once bright eyes gradually lost their spark. Your hands were dripping in red and the pistol, sitting on the sink, became a comforting thought with every passing moment. A squeeze of the trigger will grant you the kiss of death. A blissful ending to a person not worthy of living.

Your thoughts grew dark and grim the longer your eyes nestled upon your reflection. Guilt and sorrow followed you like a helpless child. Dependent on you and your sadness. You cradled the gun briefly before stuffing it away from your sight. A bullet to the head would be wasteful. This world did not permit being wasteful. You take one more glance at your reflection before making your way out of the room.

You slowly made your way through the semi-empty halls of your personal hell. Brief eye contact and respectful nods were the only source of socialization. Guns held closely, suspicions rose heavily, and each moment your comrades waited for someone to be reborn as the monsters they’ve witnessed for several weeks.

Disgust pooled in your stomach, threatening to burst out onto the spotless floor, as the familiar feeling that came before vomiting neared. You were once proud of taking the blunt end of the world for the people who lived in your country. All the pride you once felt was stripped away the moment your bullets hit innocent men, women, and children. All who counted on you to direct them to a quarantine zone but instead were killed mercilessly. In a blink of an eye, you had become a monster you once fought to end. But your commanding officers, your fellow comrades, and yourself did not protect the innocent instead killed those who just wanted asylum inside the walls of the quarantine zone.

You knew, in your heart, you could not stay. You’d rather take on the sickness that purged the world rather than continuing to stain your hands red. If death awaited you, so be it, you would welcome it like an old friend you had yearned to meet again.

You waited patiently for the sun to set before making your move. You managed to steal rations of food, several bottles of water, a couple of reusable pads, unraveled toilet paper, a sleeping bag, a map, a pistol with a case of bullets, and a hunting knife. You needed to travel light if you wanted to escape undetected from the quarantine zone. You heard whispers about the rules that would soon be enforced, any person to be caught leaving or entering the quarantine zone without authorization would be put to death, and while you did not care to die, you’d rather it be out in the new world.

You crept out of your room and evaded the guards posted inside and outside the quarantine. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness that surrounded you. Your body preparing to fight the monsters that reigned over the once bountiful city with every unknown sound. It would be a difficult journey to survive but you could not live confined within those walls and forced to become a stranger to yourself.

You walked for miles without resting, occasionally taking a glance at the map from time to time, roaming in one direction aimlessly. You had no destination. No person waiting for you. You were alone in a semi-familiar world. You had little food and water. Little knowledge of the disease that rained havoc over humanity. All you had was yourself and your thoughts.

You found shelter in a recently ransacked house with a white picket fence and large yard. You almost laughed at the irony that the notion of the house represented a dream no more. It was worthless unless it could keep the monsters away. Provide shelter from a dying world.

Once you picked the room you would rest in for the night, you moved several large pieces of furniture to barricade the already locked door. Rather than sleep on the floor, you instead walked towards the closet to see if it was big enough to house your size. You removed your sleeping bag from your backpack and laid it on the floor of the closet. The backpack itself would serve as a headrest and your pistol would lay next to you. You laid down, slightly cramped, and shut the closet door. You willed yourself to sleep.

The days began to blend as one as you pushed yourself to survive in a harsh new environment. Surviving was all you could do as the world you once knew was gone. You found yourself at odds with the infected for brief moments but escaped unscathed. There have been a few close calls, moments of vulnerability and weakness, but you had somehow prevailed.

You filtered the dirty river water through a handmade filtering device, created by scraps found in several homes you ransacked, before storing it into a hydro flask. As you continued to filter more river water, a loud panicked yell caught your attention.

“Tommy!” The voice, you thought, could only be described as distraught.

“Uncle Tommy!” Another voice filled the air. This one was more panicked than the last.

You gathered your gun and hunting knife before bursting towards the people. You know it could be a trap. A violent end to a broken soul and yet, you did not care. If you could save another person, it would be a worthy death. If it is indeed a trap, then you would no longer have to live with the guilt of the injustices you had committed.  

Three infected were slowly becoming too much for the group of survivors. There were only three, two men and a young girl, and they were slowly becoming overpowered. Bodies of other infected laid bare on the ground. You pulled the trigger thrice, allowing the bodies of the dead to drop, and they all stared at you with awe and slight fear.

All four of you waiting for the pin to drop. For the other party to indicated, even slightly, if they were friend or foe. While you had saved them, they were right to be skeptical. You were a stranger to them, an unknown, with unidentified intentions. The staring match went on until the young girl recognized you.

“It’s you.” The girl gasped.

Masterlist

Tags: @lustfulseonghwa

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #sarah miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us tv series #the last of us show #tommy miller #joel miller x soldier!reader #soldier!reader #pedro pascal

[avasillva]

But you get it, though. You might not be her father, but you were someone’s. See, I could tell.

THE LAST OF US S01E01: When You're Lost in the Darkness S01E05: Endure and Survive

#the last of us #joel miller #henry #sarah miller #tlou #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal #nico parker #lamar johnson #tlounetwork #tloudaily #tvedit #hboedit #tlouedit #userallisyn #tusercora #tuserrynn #tuserpris #useraurore #L.edits #the way even a stranger could tell he was a dad™ #because of how he treats ellie #god this show is so heartbreakingly good #i loved the games #but this is taking it to a new level

[pedrohub]

The Last of Us 1x01 || The Last of Us 1x08

#the last of us #tlou spoilers #tlouhboedit #thelastofusedit #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #nico parker #hbo the last of us #joel miller #ellie williams #sarah miller #tlouhbo #ours #polly #gifs #the last of us hbo #userbbelcher #chewieblog #userstream

[believeripley]

Just Tommy Miller enjoying watching his nieces give his brother shit.

#pedro pascal #bella ramsey #joel ellie #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #tlou spoilers #nico parker #sarah miller #tommy miller #gabriel luna #the last of us hbo

[dyingroses]

Not Joel finally being able to talk about Sarah and treasure the memories he has of her

#the last of us #joel miller #sarah miller #sarah miller tlou #tlouhbo #the last of us hbo #tlou #post