#tommy miller x platonic!reader

[rrickgrrimes8]

Your Bear

summary: Joel Miller doesn’t just lose Sarah that night but his other daughter too. but maybe you can still be found. (part II)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader -- she/her pronouns used & AFAB

warnings: guns, violence, angst, mentions of death, birth, hurt/comfort, happy ending ;) (kinda), no spoilers for part 2/canon divergent

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word count: 3.2k

Joel Miller was always a good father - no matter what he thought. He cared for his girls more than he cared about anything in his damn life. So when they were both taken from him... there was nothing left to care about.

It was Sarah first.

He held Sarah as she died. His shirt was still stained with her blood. The watch on his wrist shattered by his failure.

But his other daughter, you, looking back he can only imagine the worst.

It all happened so fast. He had Sarah in his arms she gasped for air that was growing distant by the second, while Tommy watched with a pained look.

You, however, no one was watching you. Only 5 years old - you didn’t understand a thing. And so when you heard a loud noise. When you saw your sister go down and hearing the cries of both your father and her you panicked.

You thought you were getting help. That’s what’s your dad always told you to do if something bad happened. “Find the nearest phone or adult. Call me or Tommy or this number, okay? 911. Remember that number babygirl.”

And you did.

You ran as quick as you could, which wasn’t all that impressive but it was fast enough for them not to notice you had gone.

By the time you had found your way back into town, Tommy had noticed. “J-Joel,” His voice wavered, fear taking hold. Tommy searched the clearing, calling your name.

Joel looked away from his limp daughter then. His heart was thumping in his chest. His ribs ached as did the wound on his side but nothing compared to the terror that tore through his whole body.

“W-where is she?” His eyes darted over the area but you were no where to be found.

“No, Tommy,” He sobbed already fearing the worst, “T-tommy not her, please.”

Tommy shuddered. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t real. You were just here. Sarah was just here.

“Joel,” He began until he heard shrill, painfully familiar scream from off in the distance.

“No,” Joel cried looking down at Sarah, hesitating just for a moment before setting her down, “I’m sorry baby.”

Tommy was already running at that point, hoping not to be late, not like he was for Sarah. Joel screamed your name as he sprinted - he couldn’t lose anyone else. He couldn’t lose you, his babygirl.

When he got there he saw Tommy knelt beside a bloodied teddy bear.

Your bear.

He collapsed. Knees giving way. He pulled the bear of the ground, its white fur tormented by the red hue.

Tommy shouted your name a few times. Joel didn’t have the energy to bother. His answer was here.

You were only five. You’d never have survived on your own.

And he would never survive without you, without his girls. He hugged the bear as if it was your body and he never let go.

x

“Why’d you have a bear in your bag?” Ellie teased as she caught sight of an fluffy ear sticking out.

Joel clenched his jaw, stuffing the teddy back inside. “What?” She laughed innocently, “Is it for your bad dreams? Chase the monsters away?”

The man grunted, discarding the bag on one of the chairs - away from Ellie’s view, “None of your business.”

Ellie frowned as she caught his eye. The brown was darker than usual, which was really saying something. They were empty, hollow but at the same time watery. Like he was one step away from crying. She shook the thought off - this was Joel she was talking about. Joel never cried, not in front of her - not really... She didn’t even think he could cry. But his eyes told her something else. They told an unspoken story. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But one, at the same time, she needed to hear.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, moving into the living room of the house Tommy and Maria had given them.

Joel sighed as she did, guilt running through his veins. “Sorry,” He called out, gruffly, stopping her in her escape. Ellie turned back waiting for him to continue. “it was...” He cleared his throat roughly, “The bear was my daughters.”

“Oh,” She whispered, looking up at the man with sympathy, “If i had known it was Sarah’s... i wouldn’t have said anything.”

Joel sucked in a breath, turning towards the cupboards behind him, grabbing a cup. “Wasn’t hers,” He corrected trying not to let his voice catch on the lump forming in his throat.

“What?” Ellie dared a step closer, “But Sarah was... is your daughter.” Joel bit his tongue, forcing himself to face her again. “Joel?”

He let out a watery sigh, eyes set on the ground, “I had... i had another daughter.” He spoke your name softly but with fear. He hadn’t said it in years - he couldn’t. He hadn’t spoken about you in nearly 20 years either. He hated to talk about you. It was hard enough letting Ellie in, letting her know about his past, about Sarah. But it was too hard to say your name. You were only a baby. His baby.

“I didn’t know. You never mentioned her,” Ellie almost felt guilty asking - like this was something she should’ve known. That she should’ve known wasn’t something you just bring up.

“Yeah,” He scrunched his face a little, the feeling of your loss rushing back.

He thought and he believed for a time that if he didn’t talk about you, about the way he failed you then all that hurt would go away. He was wrong. He saw you every night in his dreams. He saw the woman you grew up to become. He saw your smile and heard your laugh. But then he’d wake up alone. He was always alone.

The worst was when the dream felt real. You were a baby again, Sarah was young too. It was just the three of you. You’d be doing something mundane - watching TV, eating dinner, whatever. He’d have conversations with the pair of you, forgetting that none of it was real. He’d hold you to his chest, sing to you, make you laugh. He’d dance with Sarah to their beat up radio in the kitchen. He would watch you take your first steps, say your first words, form your first smile.

But he’d always wake up. He hated waking up.

“How old was she?” She dared to ask.

Shakily he replied, “Five.”

She fell silent after that. Five. Five years old. Joel lost a five year old - no wonder he didn’t want to talk about it, idiot.

Ellie thought for a moment, a question daring to fall from her lips. “But she’s wasn’t on the memorial at Tommy’s.”

Joel’s head snapped up, anger residing in his chest. Who he was mad at he didn’t know. Himself? Tommy? Ellie? You? “Tommy... he,” He huffed, “He doesn’t believe she’s gone. Holds out hope on that fucking plaque - fuckin’ delusional.”

Ellie leant against the countertop, eyes not leaving the man for just a second, “Why would he think that?”

“No body,” His voice was cold all of a sudden as if it meant nothing at all. As if he wasn’t talking about the body of his five year-old.

“But then she could be-“

“Don’t,” He snapped, “Don’t say another word.”

Ellie rolled her eyes but complied. Joel turned back to his cup, filling it with coffee he had just traded for. He didn’t speak until he was finished and even then he wished he hadn’t.

“We heard her scream... And we found-“ He grimaced, gesturing to his bag, “And we found that damn bear.”

“But,” She tried again.

“Ellie-“

“No, seriously, if all you found was a bear she could still be-“

Without another word, Joel stormed past her, ripping the bag open, slamming the bear onto her chest.

Ellie saw it now.

She understood the haunting look in his eyes. She understood the story it told. It was matted, showed its age. What once was white was red now.

All of it.

Not just a patch here and there.

Everywhere.

It reminded her of Joel.

“That look like she could be alive to you?” He shouted.

“Fuck,” She felt sick just looking at it let alone touching it.

“You kept it?” A voice called from behind her.

Joel met his brothers eyes. “‘Course i did,” He spoke defensively.

“Joel,” He simpered. They stared at each other for a while. Almost like they were having a silent conversation.

Until Joel spoke, “It’s all i have of her left.”

And there was nothing else to say.

x

Years had gone by since they had gotten to Jackson. And things were surprisingly good. Eerily good. It was the type of good that Joel knew deep down wouldn’t last. It was the type of good that only existed before this mess.

Every morning he would wake up here he had a weight on his chest. A feeling that something was going to happen. This was the calm before the storm, he’d remind himself.

He didn’t tell anyone about it. He couldn’t. He’d just sound paranoid.

Him and Ellie were on a run. It was simple - it always was. The people in charge at the commune never liked to overstep - go to far. Never liked to do what Joel craved.

All they had to do was scope out a few cabins that were spotted deep in the woods. Ellie had jumped at the proposition as soon as Tommy had suggested it. She hated being cooped up for so long - Jackson could only give you so much freedom.

And just because Ellie agreed he knew he had to as well. There was no way in hell he’d let her go out risking her life when there was no way he’d be able to save it.

Getting there was the easy part. The horses at Jackson were a godsend. When they got there the place was still. Ellie gave Shimmer a soft pat before joining Joel who was stalking up to the door. He knocked first - not out of curtesy, just to attract any infected that it may hold. Because that’s what they expected. But Joel should’ve known better.

Joel should’ve thought about their biggest threat - people.

They had only cleared two rooms when Joel felt the cold sting of mental on his temple.

Ellie gasped but kept her gun up, eyes trained on the figure that held Joel’s life in their hands. “Put it down,” The voice ordered.

“Like hell I will,” Ellie retorted, finger edging closer to the trigger.

“I said put it down or the old man gets it,” She forced the barrel against his head - so hard he was sure it would bruise.

“Jesus, fuck, okay,” Ellie mumbled, slowly setting her gun on the floor infront of her, “Just let him go?”

The woman laughed, “So you can kill me, yeah, no thanks.”

“We can work this out,” Joel tried, hands raising to show he was unarmed but it only aggravated her more. Her arm wrapped around his neck, making him stumble back into a chokehold.

“Hey!” She yelled at Ellie as she reached for a gun. The teen stopped, taking a few steps back.

“Just put it down. We can work this out,” Joel proposed, gasping as she applied pressure to his neck, “We don’t want to hurt you.”

“Bullshit,” She spat, breathing heavily, “What the fuck else are you here for then, huh?”

“Supplies,” Ellie told her, “We’re from a commune-“

“Ellie-“

“We can take you back there - help you. If you just put the gun down.”

“Bullshit,” The woman removed the gun from Joel’s head aiming it now at Ellie, “You’ll kill me the first chance you get.”

Ellie shook her head, going to respond before Joel gripped the woman’s arm flipping her over. She gasped as she forcefully hit the ground, splinters from the wooden floor embedded into her spine.

Her breathing picked up, hand scrambling to get to the gun he had knocked out of her hand but a foot stopped her.

Joel’s boot pressed harshly against her wrist, “Don’t.”

“Christ Joel,” Ellie huffed, “You scared the fuck out of me.” Joel watched her as she reached down to get her discarded gun. Ellie laughed as she caught her breath, “Where the hell did that come from? You’re like 80.”

“Ellie,” He scolded with a strict look.

“Right, sorry,” She chuckled.

“So this is when you kill me then,” The woman heaved, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Joel turned to her then, catching her eyes for the first time. He faltered, boot leaving her wrist as he took a step back.

She was a spitting image of... you.

No.

“Shouldn’t’ve tried to kill us, i guess,” Ellie retorted humourlessly.

“You came into my house,” She shot back.

“This is your house,” Ellie muttered, “Needs some work. Right, contractor?” She shot a look over her shoulder at Joel. The man was pale, breathless. His eyes were trained on his attacker with a foreign look she couldn’t decipher.

“Joel?”

“Name,” He ordered, gun pointed down at her but both of them could see it shake.

“What?” She coughed, struggling to understand the strangers.

“Your name, what is it?” He yelled.

“Jesus,” She almost let herself laugh - she would’ve if she wasn’t so shit scared.

Joel gave her a stern look so she said it. She spoke your name.

Ellie’s lips parted, confusion leaving her face, “Holy shit.”

Joel’s expression crumbled as did the grip on his gun, which now hung loosely at his side. “Last name?” He asked, voice a mere whisper.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Answer.”

“It’s Miller, Christ,” She answered, “What the hell is the matter with you people?”

Joel’s knees felt weak, his breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. You died. You were gone.

“Joel is she-“

“Stand up,” He told you.

Hesitantly you did as he said, struggling slightly as your injuries caught up to you. Seeing this Joel stepped forward, hand outstretched. With an odd look in your eye you took it - ignoring how the mans eyes lingered on it for a second too long.

“Are you alone?” Fearfully you shook your head. “Where?” He ordered.

You shook your head again, “Please don’t- You can’t. I was just trying to protect her.”

“Who?” Ellie spoke up, despite it not feeling like her place to be in this conversation.

“M-my,” You started but a cry interrupted, echoing through the cabin.

You didn’t think for a second before you ran out of the room. Joel cursed as you did, going to rush out after you before Ellie spoke up, “What are we doing here, Joel?”

“I-“ He paused, shaking his head and leaving the room.

“Is it her?” She questioned, following closely behind him, “Is it really her?”

He gave her stern look as he entered the room you escaped into. His eyes blurred as he saw you with a baby to your chest.

“Please don’t,” You held up your free hand, stopping them, “You can’t- not her.”

“Holy fuck,” Ellie gaped, “You have a fucking kid!”

“Ellie!” The baby fussed in your arms, cries escaping despite your comfort.

“Please leave,” You beg, “Just let us go. I know i messed up. I didn’t want to hurt you guys but i- i couldn’t let you find her.”

“It’s okay,” Joel spoke softly, a type of softness you wouldn’t expect a man like him to be capable of. He holstered his gun, carefully and moved his hands where you could see them.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” He told you, “Ellie, put your gun away.” Ellie did as he said.

“So leave,” You pulled your child closer to your chest.

“We can’t do that,” Joel said.

“Why?”

“Because he’s-“

“Ellie, don’t,” He cut her off, turning back to you, “We weren’t lying before. We have a commune - it’s safe. You’ll be safe there. You both will be.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, repeating the same question, “Why?”

“B-because you’ve got a kid,” He lied, “We can’t leave you here to die.”

“I don’t trust you,” You frowned. Joel mirrored your action, looking around the room at the makeshift cot you had constructed. He felt his heart ache when he spotted a blood stain on the carpet in the corner - you had given birth here, alone. You went through that alone.

“Please,” Ellie spoke up, “You won’t survive out here. You need somewhere safe. And maybe you don’t trust us, that’s okay but we’re honest. We want to help you.”

Hesitantly, you nodded after a few minutes, anxiety building in your chest.

Joel’s eyes were still stuck to the bloodied patch and he was reminded again of how he failed you. How he failed Sarah. He thought about that damn bear. The bear that he thought was the last part of you he had. And despite the pain in his chest and the ringing in his ears he was so glad he was wrong.

“What’s her name?” Ellie asked as she took a tentative step forward.

You didn’t flinch, you wanted to but a part of you, a naive, childish part, wanted to believe them. “Sarah,” You returned, pinching your girls cheeks causing her to smile.

Joel’s eyes filled with tears, tears he had been trying to suppress for the past 20 minutes. For the past 20 years.

Sarah. His Sarah. Your Sarah.

Ellie’s eyes snapped to Joel. He almost felt embarrassed, showing this side of him. Showing his weakness.

“She’s beautiful,” He whispered.

You smiled as he spoke, kissing the side of Sarah’s head. “She is,” You kissed her again before whispering - more to her than them, “My babygirl.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #the last of us #the last of us imagine

[heartpascal]

hoping there’s somewhere to go

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader + tommy miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you try to navigate life after the rejection of the only family you’d ever had (part two of weight too heavy to hold alone)

▹— a/n: the song too much time in my house alone by leith ross inspired this <3 longer A/N at the end!

▹— warnings: angst (as always), isolation, and then self isolation, mention of christmas time but it’s not christmas, a winter’s dinner that isn’t christmas dinner, fears being proven correct, very little self worth, it has been a long while since i have written/posted/needed to put warnings so let me know if something is missing!!!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915  @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa  @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being (pedro) — please let me know if you want to be added/removed

MASTERLIST

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Jackson is cold in winter.

And it’s not just because of the weather.

There’s winter festivities, holidays that you had never really had any experience with. And because of the weather, patrols were undertaken by smaller groups, leaving crowds of people wandering the streets, or trying to find work within the small community. So, not only was it cold and miserable, but it was about ten times as crowded in the communal spaces, with everybody packing into every space possible in order to preserve their warmth.

That’s not even the worst part — there’s the whole focus on family, or whatever a person in the apocalypse might have that’s close enough to it.

Holidays bring people together, Tommy had told you once, about a year ago. It wasn’t long after you had first arrived in Jackson, traipsing through the gate alone, aside from the patrollers who escorted you there.

The thing was, though, that you didn’t have people.

And it wasn’t as if you were wanting them! That definitely wasn’t the case — you couldn’t bear getting close to anybody, after what had happened last time — but you couldn’t help the more prominent feeling of isolation. You knew you weren’t alone in your feelings, after all, there were plenty of Jackson residents who had nobody, or resented the holiday season for one reason or another, but you felt alone.

You’re allowed to feel bitter about it, even if you do want to stay that way. It’s not like you had always felt this way, there was a time when you had thought yourself close to having a family — whatever the hell that was. In spring, if somebody had told you that you might feel this way, you might have disbelieved them, might have had faith in Joel and Ellie, despite your reservations. But then everything there had fallen apart, and you were left like this.

Living on your own, halfway across town, closer to Tommy, but further away than ever.

It was like that gaping hole in your chest had reopened with a vengeance, sucking any amount of trust or affection you had for the man into a void where it couldn’t be found. If Tommy hadn’t stuck you with Joel and Ellie, you might not be feeling like this — feeling so cold, and alone, and frozen despite the world moving around you. If he had just minded his business, or even, maybe, if he had just looked after you himself, rather than passing you off as nothing more than a chore, you could’ve been something at least close to happy.

Instead, you’re here. Making the short trip back from the school he had forced you to start going to, heading back to the little space you were supposed to call home. It wasn’t home, though. You had never occupied a space that had felt anything even close to that before, other than Joel’s. You’re pretty sure you’ll never live anywhere like that again.

You’ll probably live here, in the shitty garage that Tommy had someone convert for you, for the rest of your life. Either that, or until they finally have enough of you, and kick you out. Whichever came first.

Really, you should be used to being on your own. To having to do everything yourself, be responsible for every aspect of your own life, but strangely, after Joel’s, you find it hard to go back to that. Balancing things has never been your strong suit, and this only goes to prove that. And it’s aggravating, feeling as though something within you had changed, feeling as though you’re no longer capable, when you had spent your whole life looking after yourself.

Feeling like this has had you thinking some incredibly stupid things, your mind at one point trying to convince you that the only way to prove that you were capable, was to go back out into the big open world. Luckily for you, your survival instincts are stronger than that, and you’re able to remind yourself that Jackson is the best possible place for you, regardless of whatever thoughts and feelings you were having.

Besides, you wouldn’t want to give any of them — them being Joel, Tommy and Ellie — the satisfaction of your leaving. If they wanted you gone, they’d have to tell you as much, this time.

It was clear to you now, that they hadn’t wanted you there in the first place. And given the distance between you and Ellie since Joel had gotten rid of you, you gathered that, despite what you believed to be a close bond, she had never wanted you around either. She seemed happy enough, gallivanting around the town with her few friends, friends she had never even bothered to introduce you to. At least that meant you weren’t missing anything. Maybe she had actually done you a favour. Although given the way she avoided your gaze like her life depended on it, every time you happened across her, you somehow doubted that.

You’re not sure which loss was worse. Despite how close you had grown to Joel, how attached you had become, Ellie was the first person your age who you had ever trusted. You had told her things that you had never spoken aloud to anyone before. And now, you were left with a constant weight of regret, of dread, in the pit of your stomach.

Selfishly, you wanted Ellie to be angry at Joel for getting rid of you. You wanted her to fight for you, wanted her to remain in your corner when everybody else opposed you. What you really wanted, though, was for somebody to choose you. You wanted to feel important to somebody.

Though, now, you think you’ve outgrown that childish desire. You don’t want anyone around you, anymore.

Not even Tommy.

“Kid, would you just open the damn door?” Tommy asked, speaking to the plain face of your front door. He had knocked three times before opening his mouth, growing exasperated by your cold shoulder. He knew you were in there — had seen you walk home after school, when he was finishing a job just around the corner. Besides, where else would you be?

You stayed silent, sitting on the unmade sheets of your bed, staring at the door as Tommy knocked once again.

“C’mon, open the door. Please?” He repeated, and you could practically picture his stance outside, one arm resting against the doorframe and one hand resting against his hip. “Just wanna talk, alright? Then I’ll be on my way.”

You heard the heaviness of his sigh from your space across the room. But it didn’t change anything for you. How could it? Tommy had sent you to his brother, he had known what his brother was like, and he had sat idly by while you were uprooted and sent across town like you didn’t matter. Just another inconvenience. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he was also forcing you to go to Jackson’s community school, run primarily by an almost 70 year old woman, who was meant to retire a year after the outbreak.

It was ridiculous and unfair.

Ellie didn’t have to go to school.

It just felt like another method of getting you out of the way. After all, what did you need with writing and reading? Mathematics and history? The world had ended before you were even born.

Besides, you knew for a fact that Tommy had volunteered to take Ellie out shooting soon. Despite her avoiding you, you could still hear her boasting about it in the canteen to her friends.

You couldn’t help but feel like it should’ve been you. After all, weren’t you the one without anybody? Weren’t you the one who would be alone, should Jackson fall apart? Ellie would have Tommy and Maria. She would have Joel. Who would you have? Nobody.

If Tommy Miller had ever actually cared about you, perhaps he would’ve helped you work on the issues you’d been facing when you went to him for help, rather than passing you off to his older brother. You had spent your entire life depending on only yourself. Tommy had no idea what it had taken for you to approach him, for you to want help. To have that thrown back in your face, you knew, had done damage. As if you weren’t already damaged enough.

It was something you had been aware of for a long time — that there was something wrong about you. Something rotten. Like something had crawled into your chest, into the gaping cavity between your ribs, and died in there. It had been decaying over the years, leaving an air about you that told everybody exactly what you had always known: you are unsalvageable. Nothing in this world could reverse the decomposition that had occurred inside of you, just like nothing could reverse the infection that had taken the family you had never known.

The whole thing made you feel foolish, really. Your whole life, a voice inside of your head had been telling you that nobody could help you. Nobody would help you. And when you had finally gathered the courage to prove that voice wrong? It was proven right instead. It was a kick in the teeth. A thorn underneath your fingernail. Something bothersome, painful.

Tommy Miller had proven that you were just as alone as you had always felt.

He knocked against your door again, apparently content to wait you out. You had nowhere to go, but the knocking was irritating, the knowledge of his presence outside of that door was grating.

Before you could think better of it, you made your way over, and opened the door.

He looked the same as he always had done. Dressed for the weather, his favourite pair of boots on, and hair pushed away from his face, which held a surprised expression.

“Hey, kid.” He said, finally, after a moment of just staring at you in shock. It had been a while since Tommy had seen you up close. You looked more tired than he remembered.

“What do you want?” You asked, forgoing any sort of greeting towards the man. Opening the door was about as generous as you were prepared to be towards him.

His face morphed slightly, shock ebbing away, regret flowing in at the creases by his eyes, the grimace of his mouth. “Right, uh,” He paused, looking into your converted garage through the gap between you and the door. You pulled the door closer, so only you fit into the gap. “Alright, so, I know things have been… tense, between everybody, but I was hopin’ that you might join us. Me ‘n Maria are doin’ a winter’s dinner, not exactly Christmas, but it’s a day to be with family, y’know?” Tommy rambled on a bit, trying to spit all of his words out before you could decline, or shut the door in his face.

“We’re not family, Tommy.”

You watched his expression fall, which provided you with a sting that you hadn’t expected. But the sentiment remained the same — you weren’t family. Your surname wasn’t Miller. And even if it were, with the state of things between you, Tommy and Joel? It definitely wasn’t something you’d call family.

Honestly, you weren’t sure why he was coming to you with this now. Maybe before Joel had rejected you, before Tommy had watched on as any trust you had was shattered, but now? Now, he was lucky you even opened the door. You didn’t have a family, and it wasn’t a big loss to you. You’d gone this long without one, so what did it matter?

Tommy’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He was at a loss for words.

“Go home, okay?” You said, when his words continued to fail him. He swallowed, jaw clenched as his teeth gritted together. He was frustrated, though you doubted that was directed at you. More likely, was that it was directed at Joel. You knew things had been tense between the two of them recently, too.

He paused just as he was about to turn away. “Will you think about it, at least?” Tommy asked, though he didn’t look like he wanted to hear your answer. It wasn’t much of a question anyway.

You nodded, with no real intention of thinking about it. Well — no intention of thinking about attending. Thinking about the offer was a different story.

His shoulders deflated as he turned away, hearing you shut the door as he followed the path away from your place.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Even a full twenty four hours after Tommy had approached you with his invitation, you couldn’t let it go.

It felt as though something within you had snapped, falling from a great height and landing in the pit of your stomach. For whatever reason, one that you couldn’t get into now, maybe ever, you were filled to the brim with dread. It bubbled over, pooling in your limbs and making everything feel far too heavy.

You couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just let you be? Couldn’t he see that he had done more than enough, when it came to you?

Logically, you know it isn’t fair to blame him. Tommy wasn’t in control of anything his brother or pseudo-niece did. He had always tried to look out for you, and deep down, you know that he had truly believed that his brother would be good for you. He must have thought that, given Joel’s pre-outbreak experience, and now post-outbreak too, of being a father, he could’ve been that for you. Tommy couldn’t have known that Joel didn’t want another kid.

But that illogical part of you, the part that cowers away from everybody you meet, the part that was hurt, reminds you that it was his job to know. It was his responsibility to know what he was dumping you into. And more than that, Joel was his brother. How could he not have known?

You were the one who had ended up well and truly hurt from the encounter, not the other way around. So why did you feel guilty, every time Tommy’s expression at your scathing words popped into your mind? You hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, and you hadn’t said anything that he didn’t deserve to hear. So why? Why did you feel this unending twist of dread and guilt, eating away at your bones, your tissues, your organs?

Even now, as you worked a late night shift at the canteen, washing dishes, every time the water rippled, you could see his face. Distantly, you hoped Joel had felt like this, after what he had done to you. You hoped he remembered what he said, remembered your expression when you relayed his own message to him.

If you were honest with yourself, you think that if it had been Joel, you would’ve revelled in that expression. There’s a part of you, a part that is mean and bitter and full of resentment, that wants to hurt Joel, just like he had hurt you. You settle for staying as far away from him as you possibly can.

Joel had tried to see you a few times, back when it was fresh, with no luck from you. There was nobody in this world that you wanted to see less than him. At the very least, he got the message. Sometimes, you wonder if he had only shown up those few instances just for appearances. To make himself look better. It was no secret to the people of Jackson that Joel Miller was a questionable man, with an even more questionable past. But he did more for the town than most, so it wasn’t spoken about. Nothing more than whispers, anyway.

There had been a few whispers after your outburst at the Tipsy Bison, especially when somebody shared the news of your move across town. But it was chalked up to teenage dramatics, the youth, as if there really was such a thing.

Regardless, Tommy’s invitation to dinner was coming up in a mere two days. The knowledge of where and when it was happening made you uncomfortable, like an itch underneath your collar, it was stifling. Because that part of you, the one that wants to hurt Joel, also wants company. It craves a family, and that was a craving that had only ever come close to being fulfilled once. Still, it was a natural instinct within humans. Safety came in numbers, and there was comfort in having people you could trust. You wish that part of you could just be satisfied being solitary, because you’ll never go to that dinner. Not if you have anything to say about it.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Two hours until dinner, and the sun was beginning to set.

And here you were, axe in hand, staring down at the dwindling pile of wood that you needed to cleave into pieces. It wouldn’t last two hours. In reality, it wouldn’t even last one. Still, you stare as though the logs might multiply, hoping for the excuse out of a dinner you didn’t want to go to. And you know that you have no obligation to any of those people, you do know that, but it’s hard to believe it. Partly because you don’t want to. Because you’re torn between the satisfaction of succeeding on your own, and the fear of cutting off all ties to the only people you think you’ve truly cared about.

Being alone is a lot easier in theory.

In practice, it’s harder than you had thought. You were doing okay when they all left you to it, left you to live your own life. But an invitation means something, and that’s hard to ignore.

You bring the axe down, letting the severing of wood distract you from all thoughts of invitations and dinners and meanings.

It’s about the most physical task they’ll let you do — courtesy of Tommy, you’re sure — but you relish in it. Something about it is rewarding. Reminds you of your capabilities, your survival. The cold air burns your lungs, and each swing of the axe makes your muscles ache, but in a satisfying way. And doing it like this, alone, makes you feel unmistakably powerful.

You hear the crunch of footsteps behind you, not heavy enough to be Tommy’s or—God forbid—Joel’s. You paid them no mind, leaning down to move the chopped wood into the pile you had already assembled. You grabbed another log and placed it down, and just as you were preparing to swing the axe back up, you heard somebody clear their throat.

“Hey,” Ellie said, when you turned around. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet as you failed to reply, fiddling with the gloves on her hands. “So, uh, you having fun chopping wood?” She asked, apparently trying to clear some of the tension that surrounded the two of you, that clung. You leant the top of the axe blade on the ground, and sighed. Your breath clouded in front of your face.

“What do you want?” You asked, repeating the very same question you had asked Tommy, feeling all the more certain about your adamancy about not going to that dinner. Ellie’s brows furrowed slightly, but she quickly deflated as soon as you could see the defensive air starting to rise within her.

She shifted again, before speaking. “Just wondering if you’re coming to dinner? Tommy said he wasn’t sure.”

You did your best not to scoff, mostly succeeding, as you turned back to the wood awaiting your axe. With practiced ease, your axe rose, and swung down at the wood, separating it with a satisfying crack. “Wouldn’t count on it.” You said, as polite as you could say: no, no, I’m not fucking coming to dinner. You’re not my family. You don’t care about me. I don’t care about you. There’s nothing left here.

It was ridiculous for them to send Ellie to come and convince you to attend, of all people. Their best bet would have been Maria, who had never technically done anything that had hurt you. No, all of the fault laid with the Millers, and with Ellie.

The two of you could’ve remained friends, could’ve been something close to a family, but she didn’t want that. She chose to cut you out, to isolate you even further, to disappear from your life completely, despite being the only reason you had ever opened up to Joel. It was like she had taken a knife, and cut you open, let you warm, simmer, before leaving you out on the counter to cool. To rot.

“What happened to you?” Ellie asked, as if she didn’t know, as if she hadn’t been a part of it. Like there was no reason for your shift from being warm around her, to being ice cold. She had done this to you. At least, in part.

You didn’t say anything at first, choosing to finish chopping the wood in front of you, and piling it off to the side. Finally, you turned to her as she watched you, brows furrowed, lip curled defensively. “You people happened. You all fucking happened. Is that enough for you? Is that enough for why I don’t want to go to some stupid winter dinner?” You said, not raising your voice, but hearing more anger and irritation seep into your tone as you spoke.

She looked like she wanted to take a step back, but she stayed firm. “We all have our own problems,” Ellie told you, voice harsh and unrelenting as she spoke, and her expression hardened. “Everybody does! It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, okay?”

It would have been so easy to continue arguing with her, to descend into childish taunts and quips, to disguise genuine hurt with ridiculous arguments, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You said nothing, turning back to the depleting supply of unchopped wood.

Ellie seemed ready to burst. “Me and Joel have our own fucking problems! It’s not always good. But you can’t just give up on someone!” She said loudly, stepping towards you, ignoring the snow crunching underneath her shoes. It seemed to you that she was trying to convince herself, more than anything. Whatever she came to you with, now, wasn’t really about you. It was about her.

“I’m not the one who gave up, Ellie. You and Joel are more alike than you know. But at least he had the decency to tell me why he was giving up on me.” You told her, staying calm, despite the way your blood was rushing through your body, carrying so much adrenaline you felt like your heart may just burst.

She gaped at you, seeming more stuck on the concept of her and Joel being alike than on how she had hurt you. You figured it would go like this, though, if the two of you ever spoke again. It wasn’t a surprise to you. Everything in your life always turned out the way you expected it to. Even Joel and Ellie, in the end, had done as much, despite surprising you at first. It was inevitable. Your every worry, every fear, even the ones that Tommy had once labelled as irrational, had turned out to be true.

You wouldn’t go to the dinner.

Everything between you and the extended Miller family was in ruins, and like you, it couldn’t be salvaged. It was over with. Done.

Now, all that was left to do was wipe your hands clean of them.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

A/N: hello if you made it this far! it has been a WHILE. but in honour of ITDWS being posted a year ago today (!!!!!!!!!) i thought i’d give y’all SOMETHING!!! it’s not amazing but i hope you enjoy!!! life has been crazy + i haven’t been writing much but i still love and appreciate every single one of you <3 i think of you often.

#heartpascal writes #joel miller imagines #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #tommy miller fic #tommy miller imagines #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller one shot #tommy miller angst #joel miller angst #ellie williams angst

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are Series

Where the Wild Things Are - Series Masterlist

"I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more...What I dread is the isolation."

Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 33.9K

Chapter One: Solitude

Chapter Two: You Say You Are Holy

Chapter Three: Parallels

Chapter Four: Snow Angel

Chapter Five: A Cold Death

Chapter Six: Cigarette Burns

Chapter Seven: Haunted Memories

Chapter Eight: Because of You

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x teen!reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x teen!reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x platonic!reader #where the wild things are #where the wild things are series

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 5.3k

chapter summary: You and Joel spend the night together.

warnings: piv sex, oral sex, breath play, dirty talk, fingering, spitting, cockwarming

Chapter Eight || Chapter Ten

You know these walls too well - they're thin as paper, carrying every sound from one room to the next. You can still vividly remember waking up to the sounds of your grandparents' murmurs and footfalls in the early hours of the morning when you and August were just kids. Sound travels easily when you aren’t careful. Both you and Joel had been cautious climbing up the stairs. August was still in the shower.  You can make out the steam billowing from under the bathroom door like a fiery dragon with sharp teeth. 

You close the door silently, Joel right behind you. He’s seen your room before but it feels different now, having him here. The air that surrounds you is heavy with tension and blurted out confessions. You didn’t think much when you invited him upstairs. All you knew is that you didn’t want to part from him. You wanted him to stay. Finding it too difficult to face him, you tentatively walk up to the window, your fingers curling around the edge of the curtains with the intention to close them. 

You can't help but think about the way his room is just across from yours. On your second day of living here, you noticed that your room looked directly into Joel's. It's like you're connected by some invisible thread. Tommy had stopped by later in the day, offering to show you around. You didn’t really need him to show you around. You already knew these parts well. But you accepted his kind offer anyway, knowing that the other man just wanted to get to know the new neighbor.

Joel creeps up behind you. His body firm and strong, his heat suffocating, his presence enough to crush you into nothingness. You notice the curtains to his bedroom are drawn tight and your stomach churns with something unpleasant. Joel traces a path down the delicate fabric of your dress with the back of his fingers, his touch following the gentle curve of your spine. You lean into his touch. The curve of your ass brush against the front of his jeans, and you can't help but let out a breath, the sound echoing through the quiet room. Your heart beats so loudly in your veins that you're sure Joel can hear it too.

“This is going to sound creepy but I always hated it when you closed the curtains.”

“I’ve never had a stalker before. It’s sweet.” he teases, kissing your shoulder. “Did you look into my room often?”

A puff of air escapes through your nostrils, “I wouldn’t say often. Just on days I felt lonely. It was more frequent when I first moved in, though. You were so cold to me back then.” 

“I had to be,” he murmurs, his voice sounding almost in pain. Guilty. “I was tryin’ to keep away from you.”

“Why?” 

“You know why.” 

You do. It’s more clear to you now. You think of all the times when Joel felt like nothing but a grumpy neighbor. Back then you had no inkling that his unpleasant mood had anything to do with Tommy. You also weren’t aware that Tommy wanted you in any way else but a friend. Guilt gnaws at your insides—you should stop this right? You should tell Joel to go home and wait until one of you explained the situation to Tommy. The younger Miller was contempt to be your friend, but would he be as understanding if he learned you were screwing his brother? You’re pretty postive that’s a big no-no in the brother handbook. Your thoughts wander to August. If the two of you fancied the same person, and said person chose him…you would want him to come clean right? It would be better compared to the alternative: Tommy catching you on Joel’s lap.

A chill settles at the end of your spine. You ignore the sudden excitement coursing through your veins. This isn’t quite the moment to be exploring what kinks you may or may not have. Almost angrily, you yank the curtains closed and turn to Joel. You throw your arms over his broad shoulders, pulling him close. 

Joel hums. His hands move up the back of your thighs, your skin prickles with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You feel the fabric of your skirt gather and lift, revealing more of yourself to him. Calloused fingers follow the swell of your ass. He feels the lace with his fingertips, tracing the patterns. It tickles. You feel a dampness collecting at the seam. Joel leans in, and you’re half convinced he knows the mess gathering between your thighs as he brushes his lips against yours. 

“This feels like a dream,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed. 

“It’s not, sweetheart. Hey, look at me,” And you do. His pupils are blown wide like he’s taken every drug on the planet. Your pulse quickens. You feel the warmth of his hand envelop yours. He places the tingling limb against the front of his pants. You apply pressure. Feeling the thickness through his jeans. “See? You can feel me, right? Feel how hard you make me. I’m all flesh and bone, darlin’. Real. This ain’t no dream you’re gonna wake up from.” he lets out a deep, shuddering breath. “So if you want to stop, better tell me now.” 

You look into his eyes. You know that he means it. You know that if you show even a hint of reluctance, he would stop, no questions asked. He’s a good man. You can tell he’s trying very hard not to avert his gaze so you don’t think that he’s lying. Your heart beats steadily, every slow pump loud and deafening in your ears. Lifting your hand, you cup his cheek. His reaction is imminent. You feel the scruff of his cheek scratching the inside of your palm. The chafe alone to rising goosebumps over your warm skin. Somewhere you hear a clock. In his eyes, you see Dali’s Persistence Of Memory; colorful clocks melting away like cheese. Time is fleeting. Crumbling away. You’ve never felt that notion as strongly as you do now. As if the world is coming to an end soon; your body reacting and trying to warn you—SEIZE THIS MOMENT BEFORE IT’S GONE. 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes. Your steady heart now beating a mile a minute. You’re having trouble understanding what’s happening. Joel is here. He’s not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere either. So why is your body reacting like it’s about to cease to exist? 

“I want this,” you gasp, voice quivering. “I don’t want to stop, Joel. I don’t want to waste any more time.” 

“Neither do I, darlin’.” 

Joel strips you slowly, stealing kisses as he lowers the zipper at the back. His fingers dance over the exposed skin and slide up to your shoulders. He pushes down the straps of your dress. Your breath catches in your throat. Joel doesn’t allow the dress to fall, instead, he holds it gently and pulls it down, kneeling as he does so. You feel his lips on your bare thighs. He moves up to your clothed sex and presses his lips against the mound, inhaling your scent. Arousal builds sticky and wet underneath the fabric. Your legs start to tremble, prompting Joel to grip the back of them, steadying you. He makes his way up leisurely. Kissing your stomach, the skin above your sternum and following a path to your neck. 

By the time he reaches your lips again, you’re begging him to touch you. His name a prayer exhaled from your lungs. His tongue follows the seam of your lips and as you open up for him, he undoes the clasp of your bra. It falls to the floor softly, joining your dress. He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. Joel presses into you, his large hands cupping and kneading your breasts as he shoves his tongue deeper, groaning into your mouth. You mold into each other. He leaves no room to breathe, suffocating you, his tongue sliding over yours. You’d happily die in his arms. 

Both his thumbs simultaneously swipe over your peaked nipples and you break away. The sudden flow of oxygen makes your world spin. He’s still hungry for you. Dipping into your neck and sucking the sensitive skin. Your head falls back, his one hand slips to your back, holding you. 

“Let me taste you,” he mutters. 

Joel falls to his knees once more. A sign of worship. He slips his fingers under the elastic of your underwear, pulling down the fabric. You hiss when the cool air chills your soaked folds. He hums in approval, his eyes glued to you as your underwear joins the pile of clothes. Mesmerized, he pushes to fingers between the lips, stroking your clit and feels your growing wetness. 

“Shit, sweetheart. What a pretty cunt. This all for me?” 

“Yes,” you swallow audibly and he smiles, his eyes meeting yours. “All of it is for you, Joel.” 

Numerous nights you have thought of him; his fingers, his tongue, his cock. But none of it—none of it could’ve prepared you for the actual thing. 

Your knees buckle at his first taste of you. He squeezes your thighs, smoothing his palms over your tight flesh. You can’t help it though, you’re shaking like a leaf. Joel doesn’t seem to care. In fact, it looks like he enjoys how quickly you submit to him. He groans into your cunt, tongue delving deeper between your folds as his nose nudges repeatedly against your clit. Every stroke of the warm muscle a pRickling sense of pleasure that sears your skin. 

You whimper, “J-Joel—I…It’s t’much. I can barely stand.” 

His eyes flicker upward to meet yours. Mouth still buried in your pussy, wiggling his tongue as you coat his chin with slick. He observes you for a moment. Takes in your heavy gaze, your parted lips, your sweat-soaked skin. 

Joel briefly removes himself from you, a string of saliva following his lips. You swallow. 

“Fine,” he rasps, his drawl heavier than usual. “Lay on the floor.” 

“W-What?” 

Immediately after you’re tripping backwards, his hands coming around you to cushion your fall. You can't help the giggle that escapes your throat.

“Joel, there’s a bed right there.” 

“Later,” he murmurs and dips into your heat again. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet and I’m out of patience.” 

There’s something wildy erotic about being on the floor, spread out for him. Like a tired warrior finally collecting his spoils. He pushes your legs over his shoulders, saliva-filled mouth hovering an inch away from your pussy. He breaths heavily, watching you pulse and drip. Joel spreads you with two fingers, pointed tongue swirling around your clit before he dips lower, stroking and massaging you with his mouth. Your head falls back, pleasure raking over your skin. Joel is still fully clothed. You love being exposed to him like this. So needy, and bare, and open. He takes it, happily—takes every part of you and cherishes it. It almost makes you want to cry. He’s so willing. And he’s making you feel incredibly good with his mouth. He’s lost in you, and you’re lost in him. 

“Does it feel good?” he groans, not bothering to look at you. Despite him not being able to see, you let out a whimper and nod frantically. He nips at the skin right under your pubic bone. “Tell me it feels good, honey.” 

“It does,” you choke out with a strangled moan. “God, it feels so good. I think—” 

I love you— 

You cut off before the words can spill. You can’t. Not now. Not when you just got him. You blame the heavy fog that settles over your brain. You feel for him, this much you both know— but your feelings can’t be that strong yet. It’s just the hopeless romantic in you that wants to take control. 

You’re not sure if Joel fills in the blanks of where your sentence was leading to. Your thighs bracket his face, soft flesh closed over his burning red ears. The only indication that gives you a hint that he heard you is from the way he groans and tilts your hips up, pushing his tongue into the tight ring.  

A loud gasp rips from your throat. You nearly scream his name, covering your mouth at the very last second. You’re positive he noticed that. Heat coils under the soft flesh of your stomach. He wiggles his way deeper, pushing, pushing and pushing. His mouth moves languidly between the slit. A gentle caress from his lips. You grip his head, back forming the perfect arch as you start to grind down, chasing your lingering orgasm. 

But then you lose him, and you nearly sob. 

“No,” he says, his voice scratchy and deep. “Let me make you come. I want to explore you, sweet girl. Want to see what makes you tick.” 

“B-But—” 

“Do you trust me?” 

You dare and look down. His eyes are rounder, charcoal pupils eating at the color of his eyes, dilated with lust. Swallowing thickly, you nod. You catch his mischievous smirk as he dips back down between your legs. 

Before you feel his mouth again, without warning he purses his lips and spits—loudly. It lands on your clit, the gentle force of it making you jump and hiss between clenched teeth. He starts rubbing your clit, wickedly, and when he’s satisfied with the extra shine of your pussy, he spits again. Seeing him makes your eyes roll back, a string of spit connecting him with you. Your chest heaving, you feel another gush of arousal rolling down your sensitive skin. He’s unbelievable. You’ve never expected him to be so raw and visceral. 

“My pretty neighbor all spread out for me,” he groans, rubbing two fingers over your aching clit. The sudden pressure makes you jolt. “God, honey, I could just spend the rest of my days between your legs. Tasting you, watchin’ you go stupid for me.” 

You garble out something inaudible. Joel grins and lowers his mouth, swiping his tongue over you before looking up again. “What was that?” he teases. “I couldn’t quite catch what you said?” 

You swallow and lick your lips, your mouth drier than sandpaper. “Mouth.” you say, the rest of the words dying on your tongue. 

“Mouth?” he grins. “Mouth where?” your breath catches in your throat when instead of feeling him on your throbbing pussy, you feel him against the inside of your thigh. “Here?” he asks. “Or…here?” then he presses his mouth above your mound, taking in a deep breath. “Oooor—” 

“Fuck, Joel stop,” you snap, tugging at his hair. “My pussy. I want your mouth on my pussy—Please…” 

Time slows. His gaze moves to you languidly, flitting across your face, taking in the state you’re in. He reaches out, swiping a tear that had unknowingly escaped the confinements of your lashes. 

“Okay,” he whispers, the trace of cruel mocking gone. “You look so pretty right now. You know that right?” 

He says it so earnestly that, despite not truly believing it, you nod. This seems to comfort him because his swollen lips close over your clit, sucking hard. A moan rips from the back of your throat. Your nails biting into his scalp. He sucks again, tongue lapping at the sensitive nub rapidly. His name falls from your lips. Your legs trembling as it frames his face, the burn from his beard a pleasant one. He moves down and pushes his tongue inside you, fucking you with it. Two fingers deftly circle your clit—It’s too much. He’s giving you everything, all at once. Spit drips down to your chin, your mouth dropping wide with no noise. 

Heat rolls in your stomach, spreads all across your body. Your skin prickles and your walls start to flutter, squeezing his tongue. 

Your orgasm rips away from you. It’s violent, lingering over the line of being downright painful. Your eyes snap wide, panic flares in you when you realize all those voices you held back started to bubble from your lungs and move up your throat. Your vocal cords shaking with a need to shout. Your nostrils flare, your lungs expand, his name is on the tip of your tongue, about to burst. All the while your orgasm still rolls over you, leaving you dizzy and aching between your legs. But before your fear of your brother hearing you comes into reality, Joel clamps a hand over your mouth, his heavy palm muffling the voices. 

The strokes of his tongue become softer, slower—sweeter. Like cool velvet on your burning skin. You exhale through your nose, the remnants of your orgasm fading. Your breathing evens out and his hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin gently. He kisses the swell of your stomach and you whine at the loss of his sinful tongue. 

“Wow,” he croaks, making his way up your body. His lips glistens with slick, his mustache damp. A lazy smile blossoms on your lips. “You taste amazing. Best thing I’ve tasted in my life.” 

“I guess dinner wasn’t good then.” 

He chuckles, wet lips brushing over yours. “That ain’t what I meant, sweetheart. Your chicken was great.” 

“I’m glad.” 

You slightly shift to get more comfortable, and when you do, Joel let’s out a strangled moan. With a look of mischief, your smile shifts into a grin. He’s embarrassed, his eyes dropping to your chest instead of holding your gaze. A beautiful shade of red spreads out from his chest and darkens his neck. Still smiling, you lift yourself and press your mouth into the crook of his neck, sucking the sweat-soaked skin tenderly. 

“Joel?” you ask and he hums, eyes fluttering closed. “Do you want to fuck me now?” 

He grunts, “God, yes.” 

“Do you want to move to the bed?” 

Joel mulls over your question for a moment. His chin shifts to one side then the other, then, with a shy smile, he meets your gaze. 

“I—” he clears his throat. “I kinda like it…being on the floor. If that’s okay? I promise after that we’ll get on the bed.” 

Your smile never faltering, you nod. You’re happy you’re not the only one enjoying the  instinctiveness of being on the floor. His hands skim down your body, one finding purchase between the curve of your back and the floor. He gently cups your hip, pressing his fingers into the flesh. “Are you uncomfortable?” 

“Not at all.” 

He’s been waiting for that answer because as soon as you give it to him, his hand is between your bodies, unzipping himself with one hand and pulling his cock out. You salivate when you feel the heavy weight of him over your stomach. A bead of precum sticks to your skin, he rolls his hips, smearing wetness over your lower abdomen. You sigh blissfully, head falling and your legs parting to accommodate the width of his hips. 

Sitting back on his knees, he slowly touches his cock, watching your pliant body overcoursed by tremors. With a deep sigh, your eyes drop to his length. It shouldn’t surprise you that he has a pretty dick. Your mouth waters. He’s thick, and the thought of him stretching you makes you clench and drool all over the carpet underneath. He’s definitely been blessed and you keen at the sight of him poking through his jeans. His palm swipes over the head, coating himself in a sheer amount of precum. Soft, dark curls crown the base. You imagine yourself taking him between your lips, feeling him throb deep within your throat, constructing your breathing. 

With a soft moan, your fingers trace the slit of your sex, you’re so wet. 

“You’re temptin’ me to just come like this,” he coos, stealing the air from your lungs. 

You change the subject, eager to see more of his sunkissed skin, “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?” 

“Later,” he dismisses again, aligning himself with your entrance. You feel the tip of his cock and shudder.

“Oh, you like this hmm?” you purr, watching his brows pinch together with confusion. “You like having me all naked and vulnerable—completely at your mercy, while you’re still fully clothed, only your dick out—ah,” you pant heavily as he starts to fuck you with just the tip, working you open. A smile tugs at his lips. “Don’t worry, I love it too—god, I love it so much. I love opening up myself to you, Joel. I wish I could rip my chest open and show you all of it.” 

He doesn’t answer with his words but with his body instead. He burrows himself into your space, his mouth finding yours in a sloppy kiss. Tongues and lips moving haphazardly, a confession of sorts. He sinks into you, inch by inch. His weight presses down on you, and you feel a familiar tingle spreading from your toes to your spine. He breathes praise into your skin. Telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him. You accept the whispered words with an eagerness that surprises even you. Your arch into him, body bending in a way so that his cock slides further in. 

You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer as he fills you up completely. It’s overwhelming. Your walls flutter to accommodate to his width. Hot breath ghosting down your cheek, he decorates your face with delicate, fleeting kisses.

“Can I move, sweetheart? You feel so fuckin’ good.” he accentuates every word with the slow roll of his hips. “I’ve thought about you like this. So many times.” 

“You have?” 

Joel takes that as his cue to start moving, his hips grinding against yours in a slow, steady rhythm. The warmth between your legs spreads throughout your body, and you can feel yourself getting lost.

“I have. But none of it could compare to the actual thing.” 

His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and valleys of your skin as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him, and he takes the invitation eagerly. His thrusts become harder, faster. You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. This time you’re the one to slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting him and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans into the kiss, hips stammering forward. His chest heaves. 

Joel breaks the kiss to bury his face in your neck, breathing heavily as he pounds into you. You tighten your grip around him, urging him on. A moment later he’s pushing your legs up, hamstrings stretching and thinning. It aches. Into your skin, he’s whispering that he’s close, and it’s followed up by frantic apologies that dampen your neck. Your nails bite into the muscles of his back. You breathe heavily through your nose, biting back moans. He’s drilling into you, a sensation akin to being split in half warming your body. With every snap of his hips, you pulse around him, clenching and squeezing him tight as he fucks your next orgasm out of you. It’s too much, too sudden, and you’re crying. Silent tear pools down from your lashes. 

Joel hears the way your breath catches in your throat and moves away only to press his lisp into your eyes. He’s still sputtering out apologies, telling you that it’s okay, that it feels so good and that he has you. Warmth blossoms in your chest and you melt into the floor, your body only for him to use. 

With a high pitched sound dropping from his lips, Joel pulls out. His movements sloppy and eager, he rubs his hard length over your mound, the head catching against the swell of your stomach. You shudder when he groans, it’s raw and animalistic. He coats your trembling body with his seed, warm and wet, dripping down and staining the rug. You let out a stuttering breath and Joel leans in to kiss you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, lips brushing your hairline. “I wanted to last longer.” 

You smile, nuzzling up to his neck. “That’s okay,” you answer. “I take it as a compliment. Nothing more sexy than someone being so into you that they lose a bit of themselves, right?” Joel nods, knowing well what you meant. You press your lips against the bald patch of his beard. He smiles. “Besides, you can make it up to me. If you really want to.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groans, dipping down for another kiss. “You can't even begin to imagine the things I'm about to do to you.”

A soft orange light caused by a street lamp nearby trickles from between the curtains. The light forms a sharp streak from between the windows to the bed. Your clothes glow golden on the floor, alongside with Joel’s. It’s late. The sky a shiny black as the rest of the neighborhood sleeps soundly. It’s been long since August’s bedroom door echoed closed into the night. Joel had his hand pressed tightly against your mouth. Your nostrils flare with each breath. Your stomach sinks into the matress, his hips slowly rocking into you, soft, wet sounds making your skin prickle with pleasure. His body a comfortable weight above you, screaming comfort. 

“Such a perfect cunt for me to fill,” Joel breathes into your ear. You shudder, a muffled moan bouncing against his palm. He clicks his tongue. “So noisy. I’m startin’ to believe you want to get caught with all the trouble you’re makin’ me go through to keep you quiet.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, your hips jerking to meet his slow thrusts. A sharp exhale leaves your nose. You’re burning all over, sweat clinging to you like a second skin. He grinds himself deeper, pinching your nose with his thumb and forefinger, you jolt only for Joel to shush you. 

“I think I just hit the nail on the head,” he mutters. Your chest expands, your lungs starting to burn and head growing dizzy. “Fuck—Sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. You want the world to hear don’t you, how much you love takin’ me? So perfect, so so perfect. I love fuckin’ you nice and slow.” 

You pulse around him, soaking him as slick trickles down your thighs and wets the bed. Your eyes roll back and your body juts uncontrollably. The lack of air adds pressure to your temples, but it feels so good. You want him to control everything like this. You want him to be in charge as you roll about life, only to come back to him. 

He removes his fingers, oxygen filling you once more. His palm is still heavy over your lips. Joel drags his nose up the frame of your face, gently nipping the skin above your cheekbone. 

“Jesuus,” he groans. “Did you come, darlin’? Just from that?” he sounds almost delirious, joyful. His strokes become faster, harder. You squirm underneath. Joel’s hand moves up from your mouth to your hairline, pushing sweat-soaked strands away from your forehead. His lips touch your cheek. “Such a needy thing.” 

You close your eyes and breathe heavily through parted lips, a half smile curving at the corner of your lips. You were needy. You don’t ever want to let him go. You want him to hold you like this until the end of the earth. 

You want this night to last forever.

It’s the early hours of the morning. You stir awake with hands gripping tightly at your waist. You blink away the dampness of your eyes. The street lamps are turned off, the sky now a muted, grayish blue. Joel’s hands skim down your body, still reaking of sex and sweat. Your ass is bare, and he caresses the warm flesh. His cock is heavy and hard, pressing between himself and the small of your back. You sigh, rolling your hips. He lets out a choked out sound, his lips now touching the back of your neck. It feels like a dream; laying naked with him here. It’s a beautiful thing. Exquisite. 

“You can’t sleep?” you ask silently, afraid to disturb the approaching day. 

“Too many thoughts,” he grumbles accompanied by a soft movement from his hips. You let out a sigh. 

“What thoughts?” 

He wets his bottom lip, “Borin’ stuff. But the main focus is always how I want to bury myself into this here sweet pussy of yours.” 

“You have quite the mouth on you, Mr. Miller,” with a smile, you shift and turn to him. His hand falling to your waist. You don’t want to think of what these “boring stuff” were. But you do have a sneaking suspicion it was to do with You, Tommy…Sarah. He’s thinking of all those who might get hurt by this, or affected. In all honesty, you don’t think Sarah would mind, but then again, you don’t really know much about her relationship with her mother. Being the nice neighbor is one thing, being in a relationship with her father is another. 

“Hey, where’d you go?” 

Blinking, your gaze meets Joel’s. He smiles and his thumb comes up to swipe the skin under your eyes. Where he touches burns. You mimic his expression and smile back, then you shake your head. 

“Nowhere,” you answer. “I’m right here. And what you want can be arranged, you know?” 

He hums, eyes dropping to your chest and pebbled nipples. “Can it, now.” 

Joel cups between your legs, middle fingers sneaking between your soaked folds. He tenderly circles your clit. “You sure you aren’t too sore?” he asks. 

“Hmmm, I don’t think I can handle you fucking me into oblivion again, but I can most certainly warm your cock. Help you sleep.” 

“What an angel.” 

You bark a humorless laugh. “Yup, that’s me. Miss angel, right here.” 

“You’re thinkin’ about him aren’t you?” he asks, pushing a finger in. You suck in a breath, your body starting to shake. Joel massages your walls, working you open as his gaze searches for something in your eyes. “You’re not alone in this. I hope you know that. He’s my brother, if anythin’ I should be the one takin’ the weight of this. Not the other way around.” 

“That’s not true. We’re both responsible about what might happen,” you sigh, heat licking the base of your spine. His lips brush your forehead as he pulls out his fingers and them with the head of his cock instead. You shuffle closer. “I think I’m just scared. This is all so new. Losing you is the last thing I want.”

“You ain’t gonna lose me,” he quickly says. “And we don’t have to tell anyone right now,” he adds with a whisper. He fills you, and it’s the most glorious feeling in the world. You throw your arm over his shoulder, pulling his chest flushed against yours. A faint pain blossoms between your legs, you moan at the feeling. “It can be just this. We’re in no rush.” 

You have so much more you want to say. But you don’t. Instead you revel in the feeling of him inside, pulsing, and throbbing. He so close that you can hear his heart beat. He’s right, there’s no need to rush this. Maybe a weak later you would return to just being the woman that lives next door, who’s to say? There’s no need to stir anything in your already chaotic lives. 

Joel nuzzles your neck, kissing the hard interior. He rests his forehead there, taking deep breaths of your scent. You want to move closer —if possible— but you’re afraid that when you do, you’ll won’t be able to hold yourself. And you’re enjoying the feeling of him inside too much to want this to end. 

“Better?” you croak out, playing with the damp ends of his hair. He nods. 

“It’s way better,” he murmurs, voice deep with sleep. “See you in the mornin’ neigbour.” 

“See you in the morning.” 

a/n: wooooo we got a new moodboard! Isn't that exciting??? I also have another one I made for a specific arc that'll last a couple of chapters but other than that, this one will probably be staying until the end so I hope you like it!

Also I'm stupidly happy to finally be writing smut for these two dfvfdvbf no one warned me that writing a slowburn would be essentially edging yourself lmaodfvdf many more horny chapter are to come! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and if you have any questions or things you want to see happen, let me know! Sending kisses and hugs to the lot of you 🧡

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #young!joel miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x platonic!reader #hbo the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #stay in bed

[vanillabourbon]

the first of many. | chapter one | ongoing tlou series

story summary. joel arrives at Jackson twenty years after the outbreak with a young girl that cares for him just as much as he cares for her. little did he know, he would soon meet someone else that would urge his returning sense of humanity one step further.

chapter one warnings. i'm starting to realize this is going to be a slowburn, sorry friends.

story pairings. joel miller x reader, tommy miller x platonic!reader

words. 7873

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Chapter One. The Prodigal Son.

Jackson, Wyoming. 2023.

It was a brutal winter. Jackson sat in a valley, leaving many, including you, to assume the brute of every storm would pass without much consequence. Of course, this once, you were wrong.

The nights were cold. Sometimes the following night was even colder. The indoors weren’t so bad, but you couldn’t help but to think of the bitter, chilly air while lying alone – awake for an unknown number of hours – in your bedroom. Every creak and groan of the house you took refuge in had long since gone silent whenever the wind died down at this hour. If solitude had a brink, you were sure this would be it.

The only noise you heard was the incessant ticking of the grandfather clock somewhere in the hallway. It was loud, repetitive to a fault, and the last thing you wanted to hear when another sleepless night led to the start of your patrol week. Every slow blink of your heavy eyelids only interrupted the path your eyes traced along the speckled ceiling above you. Every tick reminding you of all the times you forgot to ask Tommy to help you remove the clock from your house instead of spending your nights wondering who lived here before you.

Before the outbreak. Before the world fell to pieces.

The ticking was never the only noise. Not for long, of course. Jackson was stirring awake. Front doors were shutting and little children were already laughing. Despite the cold, despite the frostbitten fingers and cracked lips, despite the outside world staving off infected, every child-like sound and rumble of snow removal felt mind-numbingly similar to a world you’d almost forgotten. 

Or maybe a world you wanted to forget. Even now you still couldn't decide.

Your thoughts were on repeat, just like the clock. And yet the clock was still louder. Much louder. Every second passed was excruciating. You willed yourself to be thoughtless. Every night you fought to quiet your mind … to no avail. Without the need or constant threat of surviving another day, there was nothing to displace a constant line of thinking that never failed to bring about a quiet discontent.

Eventually, you noticed the rhythm of the clock’s ticking coincided with every tap of your finger against your bed frame. Your back dug into the mattress, pressing yourself deeper and deeper into it as if your bed would swallow you whole. You ignored the sudden sounds of boots climbing up the stairs of your front porch as you forced yourself to stop tapping.

A well-timed, and fully expected, knock at your door did nothing to draw your gaze from the ceiling. Not at first. You knew who was on the other side of that door, and you also knew you didn’t want to hear a thing from Maria about being late to patrol. It was either bite the bullet now or later.

With a soft grunt, you chose now.

You hoisted yourself out of bed and ambled over to your opened closet. While you made quick work of changing your clothes, another round of sharp knocks – thump, thump, thump – echoed throughout your house. Insistent. Unrelenting. But still substantially polite.

Only Tommy, you thought. Only Tommy.

–

Before making your way to the front door, you slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a leftover apple you snagged from the dining hall. Strictly for appearances. You wanted to seem like you’d just awoken, that you’d started having a light breakfast before patrol. You weren’t unaware of Tommy’s ability to appear more oblivious than he actually was.

He’d notice. He always did.

You opened the door shortly after his fifth knock. The two of you made eye contact, already very much aware of the other’s intentions.

“I wasn’t going to miss check-in,” you stated, taking a pointed bite out of your apple. “I was just getting ready. Thinking about some new patrol routes to run by Colby before we leave.”

Colby, your patrol partner and ever the golden boy. No one thought twice of your word when you mentioned him, least of all Tommy.

You took a step back, acknowledging Tommy’s entrance, before grabbing your boots and walking toward the adjacent living room. Tommy closed your front door softly before following you. Slowly. Eyeing you as if he was trying to figure out how to broach an inevitable subject.

He shuffled forward, choosing to lean against the wall instead of sitting down next to you. It felt condescending. Wary. “I didn’t come here for that. You know that.”

You held your apple in your mouth as you shimmied a boot onto your foot. You raised your brow in question, trying to act as oblivious as you hoped you looked.

Tommy eyed you for a long moment before sighing. “You didn’t come by for breakfast again.”

You plucked the apple out of your mouth. “I overslept.”

“You never oversleep.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of eating breakfast with Maria.” Your defiant, tight-lipped smile immediately vanished at Tommy’s hurt expression. Your chest deflated. “ … And you.”

He frowned. “What?”

“With the baby coming, you two need to spend as much time together as possible, Tommy. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“You wouldn’t.” Tommy tried to give you a meaningful look, but you kept your eyes down. Your fingers worked to lace up your boot in the sudden silence. “Nothing’s going to change.”

“Everything’s going to change, Tommy. Everything has changed. And that’s alright. At least one of us had to relearn how to build some kind of a life.”

“You’re always welcome for breakfast. That’s never going to change.”

You let the silence drone on, using the need to put on your other boot as much needed time to think of what to say. Preferably how to change the subject. You took another bite of your apple before placing it on the coffee table in front of you.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before settling on a change in subject. “Yeah, well, I told myself that I’m going to start eating in the dining hall with Colby.”

“Thought you didn’t like Colby. You said he talked too much.”

“Yeah, so do you. I got used to that real quick. I’m sure I can give Colby the same benefit.”

Tommy let out a short laugh. “How is the new partner, anyway? First one who hasn’t switched on you since we were partners.”

“Are you saying I’m hard to be with?”

It was clear it was growing difficult to suppress a smile, but Tommy fought it well. “No,” he replied slowly. “I’m only saying. Seems nice enough. A good fit for ya.”

You finally caught on to his insinuation. The threat of something more – something intimate – made you recoil sharply. “Don’t, Tommy.”

“I’m just saying. He’s nice – a good man.”

“We patrol together, Tommy. And half the people in Jackson are ‘nice.’ Nice comes from losing so much.”

Almost instantly, you regretted making the conversation turn for the worse, but Tommy’s always been quick. He was leaning against the wall so openly, so casually, shoving his hands in his pockets with a familiar, disarming smile in less than a minute. 

“You mentioned something about new patrol routes. Something happen?” You went quiet for a minute, standing to shoulder your jacket that’d been draped over the sofa. You ignored the few steps it took for him to cross the living room and stand in front of you. He helped you with your jacket without question. “You know if something happened, you and Colby have to report it.”

“I know, Tommy.” With a mutter, you added, “You sound like Maria.”

He paused, forcing you to look at him. “If something happened, you have to tell me.”

“Nothing happened, Tommy. Honest. Other than tripping and falling in the old warehouse, nothing’s happened.” You zipped your jacket and faced him fully, looking into his eyes with sudden sincerity. “Sometimes we all just need a change. In pace. In scenery. Just a change, Tommy. That’s all it is.”

Tommy’s response was slow … and then not at all. His mouth opened slightly before closing altogether.

You tilted your head, puckering your lips in annoyance. “You want me to run it by Maria.”

Nearly imperceptible, Tommy sucked in a breath, weighing his decision before shaking his head. “No. Not as long as you stick to the usual route most of the time. You know how they are around here. Real –”

“ – protective  of this place. I know, I know. You remind me every day.” You gave him a small smile. A genuine one this time. “Deal.”

He shook his head, smiling like the over-tolerant man he tended to be with you. “C’mon, we’ve still got time to run by the dining hall.”

“We?”

“I’ve got time; I’m helping fix up some of the buildings today. You can eat a proper breakfast, and, if you’ve got new routes to share with Colby –,” he paused, ambling over to your front door and gesturing for you to follow close behind, “ — then I wanna hear ‘em.”

With that, the walk toward the door was already filled with Tommy’s habit for talking. It was clear his mind was elsewhere – on Maria, on the baby, on the state of Jackson. He had a habit like that, talking about the things that were clearly on his mind while trying to defect to other conversations to keep the solemnity of it all to a minimum.

You’d almost thank him for it. Almost.

It was always nice to hear regular conversation, as if the world wasn’t burning, and had burned, outside of everything that currently surrounded you. Tommy was good at that – a constant reminder that no matter how bad things were, there was always something, seemingly inconsequential, that could bring light to the seriousness of it all. Of everything, really. You liked that.

That’s why you let him talk and didn’t immediately wipe the growing smile that traced your lips.

“ – and I’ll probably work less, once the baby comes. Marie and I have already decided that,” he was saying. Your smile dropped, then. 

It all felt strange – inane. Like everyone and everything was trying to rebuild something that wasn’t meant to be rebuilt. And children. Children were the last thing that should be brought into a world like this.

But he was Tommy, and you would be remiss not to share in his happiness.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, eyes barely leaving the ground, as you reached for the door knob. “Yeah, sounds great, Tommy. Happy for you.”

You eyed him for a moment, a smile threatening every inch of your countenance, but you shoved it down as soon as you opened the door. Your patrol partner, Colby, stood on your front porch, arm outstretched mid-knock, and wide eyes trained on the both of you. His tall, lanky figure stood awkwardly in your doorway.

Tommy stopped, mid stride, conversation dropping immediately and a wide grin spreading rapidly.

“Well, looks like we didn’t have to go lookin’ very far,” Tommy said, humorously bumping your shoulder as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He nodded in greeting, “Colby.”

“Tommy.” Colby nodded, looking between you and his raised fist before dropping his hand entirely. “I – um – I couldn’t find you at the dining hall. I thought I should swing by to check on you before our shift.”

Tommy’s eyes slid toward you with a smirk, muttering, “Well, ain’t that sweet.”

Colby’s hopeful expression was almost unbearable. For a moment, you tried for a smile, but you were sure it came across as more of a grimace. When you didn’t say anything, Tommy cleared his throat. The absence of subtlety was lost on Colby. His failure to notice your annoyance was almost as comical as his inability to tell your intention as you took a few pointed steps toward your pack hanging on a hook to your left.

You were going to leave your pack today, but you hoped it would send a message: Let’s get to the stables and start our shift. Nothing more; nothing less.

You nodded, hooking your pack across your shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Without another moment, you ushered the two of them out and away from your door. Even as you fished your house key out of your pocket, you could see the warm, encouraging smile Tommy gave Colby as they walked. You made no attempt to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the sight.

The sound of your door locking tightly behind you sent you bounding down the stairs to join the two men on the street.

With a simple nod, you were going to walk right by Tommy and expect Colby to follow in your wake. But Tommy stopped you with a light hand tap to your arm.

“Careful on those new routes.”

“Always.”

He studied you for a long moment, eyes scrutinizing and stance weary. You just let him. Something in your gaze – determination, lack of fear, self-preservation – made him relax and, without warning, pull you into a side hug. You hit his side as he whispered, “Bring it in.”

You took a few measured breathes, letting yourself relax in his grasp, before you pushed yourself upright. You walked out of his embrace with another nod in his direction before heading to the stables.

You hardly noticed the way Colby looked when he fell in stride with you.

"I didn't take you for the affectionate type."

With a shrug, your clipped response was a grunted, "I'm not."

Despite yourself, Tommy's hugs were familiar, reminiscent of a time you couldn't quite place with people you couldn't quite remember. But the next time you saw Tommy, hours later, pulling another into that same kind of hug, it was suddenly different. Foreign.

Hours later, he was hugging his brother.

–

All of the air had been sucked out of the room the moment Joel Miller spoke.

Maybe we could have a moment alone, just for family, he had said.

Your immediate thought was how rude the insinuation must’ve seemed to Maria … until Joel’s gaze met yours first.

He had been in Jackson all of five minutes, and your eyes hadn’t left him since. Even now, when he and a young girl – Ellie, he had explained – sat across from you, Tommy, and Maria in the dining hall.

He looked exactly as you thought he might. You weren’t sure what it was you had been expecting from the older Miller, but the person sitting in front of you was pretty much it. Broad. Brooding. Similar to Tommy in looks and in stature, but still not quite the same. They were family, though, that was for sure.

And now he was making it very apparent that you were not.

The cold, icy feeling of isolation and neglect crept along the back of your neck at his words, bristling and tensing as his gaze fell over you for the first time. Briefly. He set his stare on Tommy after that, working his fork over what was left of his food. 

He hadn’t bothered to look at you much, but you also made no effort to make your presence known. You hadn’t spoken since you'd returned from patrol and the two brothers had reunited. You hadn’t left Tommy’s side, either. The latter wasn’t unusual, of course, so there was no hesitation when you remained at his side, same as Maria. Hesitation only came when Tommy, with a slight pause, turned toward you.

In shock, you snapped your gaze from Joel to Tommy. Without the heat of your gaze, Joel’s eyes could appraise you without much risk. His eyes flitted between you and Tommy, trying but failing to understand the silent conversation that warred between the two of you. His eyes trailed from your hair to the way your fist furled and unfurled on the edge of the table. He was assessing. Gauging. His eyes were back on his plate within seconds.

Conversely, Tommy’s gaze pleaded with you, with every ounce of subtle vulnerability he could muster, with the warm, apologetic look he gave. He wanted you to do as Joel said. A sickening feeling peeled at your gut and constricted your throat at the thought.

But he and Joel were right; you weren’t family.

With an indignant sniff, you rose from your seat and left the dining hall without a single look back.

In your wake, Ellie watched your retreating figure with newfound interest. “Who’s that?”

After a moment, and a brief glance in Maria’s direction, Tommy answered with a cool smile, “A friend. We came to Jackson together. We survived together,” he paused, using his index finger to motion between Joel and Ellie, “Same as you.”

At that, Joel’s eyes momentarily slid over to the door you’d just exited from.

–

The latter half of the evening began to settle in when you heard a familiar gait approach you at the stables. You didn’t bother turning around, not initially. The sun had slipped below the hills surrounding Jackson, and you were sure you could safely spend the rest of the night alone before having to face Tommy again, or anyone really. You wanted to sift through your thoughts properly without the threat of having to speak to anyone else.

That's why you came to the stables. They're quiet. Unassuming. A good place to be alone.

You should’ve known Tommy wouldn’t let you stay that way. 

It was no surprise that he knew to find you at the stables, checking the locks for the millionth time in the way you did when you could find nothing else to do with your hands. Or time.

It was cathartic, you used to always say. Made you feel like you were worth something.

“I didn’t think we rotated stable duty anymore. Not this quickly, anyway,” he called out. “Besides, I’d think you should still be sleepin’ off your patrol shift from this morning.”

You merely glanced at him over your shoulder, offering something between a scoff and a humorless laugh. “I’m just double checking. The new guys always forget something.”

“Suit yourself.” You could hear him shuffling around, trying but failing to avoid the obvious tension between the two of you. “You find anything interesting on your new route today? Was it the scenery you hoped for?”

Your back remained toward him as you mumbled something, nearly incoherent, in response. Nothing new. Different scenery, same feelings. Nothing worth over explaining … or explaining at all. Your voice faded and the silence continued until he let out a sigh.

“I wanted to apologize about earlier. I shouldn’t have made you leave. Everything was so tense –”

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to apologize. I get it.”

He paused before trying again. “Everything was so tense. I thought it best to do whatever Joel said to ease it up a bit. Make ‘em feel more comfortable.”

You only nodded, and Tommy sighed again. He moved to lean against a wooden post, crossing his arms and looking at his feet. You wanted to finish checking the locks before you turned around. You thought of him, and the girl, and Joel. His brother came back, and Tommy chose to cater to him. That should be fine. That is fine. You’d probably do the same, if you could.

Joel. Something about him clung to your mind, and perhaps that was why your skin crawled and you hadn’t felt right since seeing him. You never quite thought of what to expect when you met him. If you met him. The way Tommy had dropped little pieces of information about him – here and there, in spurts and bouts – you were sure you knew the man already. But the man that had sat across from you was unforthcoming, aloof, restrained, hard to read, … stiff.

You nearly wanted to double over at the memory of Tommy once telling you that you reminded him of his brother.

Finally, you stopped idling poking around with the locks and dropped your shoulders, turning to face him. At least he could be read like a book.

“I know there’s more, Tommy. What is it? Did he tell you the real reason why he came?”

Tommy shook his head quickly. Almost too quickly. “I really do think he came to check up on me, that's all. I haven’t radioed him in a while.”

“I told you to.”

“I know. Can’t pass up an opportunity to say, ‘I told you so,’ can you?” A moment of silence. His smile died on his lips as he was forced to acknowledge the seriousness.  “He wants me to take the girl.”

“What do you mean? Take her where?”

“South. The fireflies have a base in Colorado.”

“Did he tell you why?”

He looked at you – communicative yet reluctant. Like he wanted to tell you but couldn’t, and the guilt made him apologetic. You swallowed a lump forming in your throat.

“Alright,” you said slowly. “Did he tell you anything else?”

“Nope. Just that I need to take her … and I agreed.”

You nodded, weighing your options in your head. “Well, then, when do we leave?”

“Woah, ‘we’?” Tommy pushed himself off the post and walked a step closer. “There’s no we on this. It’s just me and the girl.”

“Tommy, if you think I’m letting you leave Jackson without me, you’re wrong. And you know it.”

“It’s just a week’s ride. You and me, we’ve gone further than that – separately, too. I’ll be fine. I’ll take the girl, and be back before your next stable duty. I need someone here to watch Maria. To watch Joel. Someone I can trust.”

“Yeah? And who will watch you?”

He let out a short laugh. “I don't need anyone to watch me.”

“You know it’s more than that, Tommy. I have a bad feeling about this.”

You both shared a look – a knowing look. Tommy was well aware of how much it meant to you when you had a bad feeling. And it was true. You practically couldn’t stand still at the thought of it all. 

He nodded in understanding before looking away. “I get it, but I’m going alone on this. It’ll be easier. Faster. But I needed to tell you so you don’t go worryin’ tomorrow morning.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, to step closer and end the conversation with a light, familiar hand to the shoulder, but he didn’t. He only gave you one last meaningful look before turning and walking away. 

–

That night was the same as all others. The incessant ticking of the grandfather clock, the methodical tracing of every grove and indent in the ceiling above you, and the quiet natural sounds of the undisturbed town. The only difference was the added weight that dipped the mattress at the base of your bed – your bag.

Despite what Tommy said, you fully planned on joining him in the morning with a bag packed with two week’s worth of essentials.

Over and over, you imagined the conversation in the stables. You were searching for any giveaways on Tommy’s face that might lend any credibility to what Joel was getting him into. Why the fireflies? Why would the girl need to go to one of their bases? Why come all the way to Jackson? What made the girl so important?

Your stomach churned at every scenario and theory, eyes regularly forgetting the path they were tracing across the speckled ceiling. With a low huff, you turned on your side and stared at the curtains instead. The standard, white, thin curtains that came with the house, same as the clock. They weren’t your favorite, but they reminded you of the time before. They reminded you that there even was a time before.

For whatever reason, that brought as much comfort as it did pain.

Whether the thought brought a wave of fatigue that pushed you over the brink of sleep, you couldn’t tell, but you were pulling yourself up and out of bed the moment the first signs of daylight poked through your window. The early sunlight spilled lazily across your floorboards and sent your heart thumping wildly.

You knew if the two of them were leaving, they would do so early. You’d be damned if Tommy left you behind.

You were up and out of your house faster than you’d ever been before. A small part of you tried not to dwell on the fact that your heart was actually beating with excitement. The thought of leaving Jackson for some time was invigorating – freeing. You’d never admit it to Tommy – you’d barely admit it to yourself – but the town was far too overwhelming at times.

You’d traded Fedra's walls for Jackson’s walls, and the idea was none too pleasing next to the sight of all of the calm, relaxed faces.

It still seemed so trivial to have all of this in here – calm, reassurance, life – while the world rotted out there. 

The suffocation of it all was also one of the reasons you jumped at the chance to join the patrol team only days after you and Tommy joined Jackson. You needed a regular out, to catch your breath and to remind yourself there still was a world out there. Broken, tattered, and empty. But it was there all the same.

And now here was another chance, an opportunity to go even for just a little while longer.

Even if the last thing you expected was to turn the corner at the entrance of the stable and see Joel.

The older Miller was fiddling with one of the padlocks, mumbling something under his breath before he chanced a look over his shoulder to find you watching him with partially parted lips. He froze that way for a second. It never occurred to you which one of you would speak first until the silence between you started to stretch on, second by second.

The two of you took a breath at the same time, seconds away from over-talking one another, just as Colby rounded the corner and came to a stop a few steps behind you. Your name left his lips, breathlessly and pleasantly surprised.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. You turned to face him just as his eyes flitted towards Joel before settling back on you. “Our name’s aren’t on the board for today.”

You nodded. Your bag suddenly seemed heavy on your shoulder, so you adjusted the straps to avoid eye contact for a few seconds. “I could ask you the same question.”

“Olivia and Myles need some things fixed around their house. Toby mentioned we had some spare tools lying around the stables if I wanted to help.” His voice trailed off at the sound of Joel yanking the padlock off one of the horse’s pens. Colby’s eyes shifted to your bag. “Are you heading out?”

You heard the faintest stutter in Joel’s movements. You wondered if he realized Tommy let you in on the matter.

When you didn’t immediately respond, Colby tried for a laugh. It sounded oddly strained. “Showing the new guy the ropes already, huh?”

An exaggerated grunt sounded behind you, and you rolled your eyes. Joel’s lack of response and familiarity with you should’ve been enough of an answer for Colby. Obviously not, of course.

“No,” you stated simply. You were quick on your feet. Dismissive. You felt partially bad for how smoothly a lie flew from your lips to placate his misplaced curiosity, but you wanted him gone more than anything else at the moment. “I’ve been helping Maria with something.”

Your response did exactly as you anticipated. There was little opposition whenever you said you were doing something for Maria; no one ever asked or pushed further. Thankfully, Colby was one of the many who never asked questions.

Colby nodded, excusing himself as he stepped by you and walked toward one of the work benches. His gaze flitted toward Joel several more times as he collected a few items and grabbed a nearby toolbox. You’d never seen him in such a rush to do anything. You wondered if he could feel the taut air, the strained edginess in the situation he just walked in on.

If he did, his smile didn’t show it.

He walked back toward you on his way out, brushing your shoulder with his own. He nodded his head in goodbye. “I��ll see you around.”

Your only response was a tight-lipped smile as you watched his retreating figure. Anything to avoid turning back to Joel for as long as possible. You weren’t sure what to say or how to say it. You were sure he suspected Tommy told you what the two of them had discussed, even if Tommy hadn’t told you much. Joel didn’t know that.

And, when you turned around, Joel’s expression gave away exactly what you figured. Partial annoyance littered every muscle in his face as his jaw feathered.

With eyes trained on you, he nodded in your direction. “Tommy tell you?”

You didn’t know whether to nod or vigorously disagree. You were aware of how rocky their relationship was, how turbulent their past must have been for the two of them to separate, and you wanted little to do with however they felt about one another.

Still, Joel took your silence as an answer and clucked his tongue in irritation.

“You shouldn’t blame him,” You spoke up, crossing your arms defiantly, “When I want information, I’m pretty good at grilling people for it.”

“I know Tommy. He doesn’t need much grillin’.”

Silence ensued once more until your curiosity won. You watched him strap his pack on the horse for a few moments before speaking up again. “If Tommy’s the one leaving, why are you here? Prepping a horse, no less.”

“I’m giving Ellie a choice – me or Tommy.”

“And why’s that?”

“It’s only fair.”

“No, I mean, why Tommy? Why not you? It’s been just you and Ellie so far. Why change that now?”

“Tommy’s younger. Stronger. Faster. Her best bet would be to leave with him.”

You considered that, eyes wandering Joel’s figure with sudden interest. It was partially self-indulgent, if you were to be completely honest with yourself. It was your first time really getting to look at him … and he looked alright. A slight tilt to his gait, from age or injury or both. His broad frame and build were controlled, guarded, muscular.

With a shrug and a brief look away, you tried for indifference. “You seem just fine.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. Tommy’s the better choice.”

“Tommy has a kid on the way.”

“Yeah, well,” he paused, casting a short glance in your direction, “not that it’s your place, but it’s important that Ellie gets to where she needs to be.”

You chose not to say anything after that. You felt it best to wait for Tommy, to see how this would all play out. You were fine there, with your arms crossed and eyes now pinned on your shoes, until one side of the saddle slipped. Joel’s frustrated sigh made your head snap back up. He was holding one of the saddle clamps in one hand and raising his other hand to his mouth, biting  the tip of his gloved finger to yank the glove off completely.

 With a roll of your eyes, you dropped your bag and marched towards him without a second thought. He was too distracted, busying himself with the horse’s straps, to notice you until you were grabbing the loose straps from his cold hands and finishing them yourself.

He didn’t protest or take a step back – didn’t move an inch, in fact. All he did was take his glove from his mouth and stare down at you, sizing you up. 

“Why’re you here? Were you going to leave with them – with Tommy and Ellie?” He paused. “Is that what your bag is for? Was that your plan?”

He made your idea sound ridiculous. Far-fetched. His tone was enough to make you shoot a glare over your shoulder, making brief but pointed eye contact before your attention fell back to the horse.

“Wherever Tommy goes, I go.”

“That so?”

You only hummed in response until you conceded. “Mostly.”

“Why’s that? Tommy said this trip shouldn’t be dangerous.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why leave?”

The last strap slipped easily in place, and you turned to look at him. “Because I want to.”

You’re not sure why you said it, however truthful it was. His brow furrowed in confusion, and a part of you wondered if you said too much. It was clear his persistence only meant his genuine concern for his and Ellie’s safety. You were sure he wasn’t expecting to pull a confession from you.

Thankfully, the sound of footsteps interrupted the silence once more as Tommy and Ellie rounded the corner of the stable’s entrance. You stepped away from Joel to meet Tommy halfway, and the movement caught Tommy’s attention immediately. His approach suddenly became cautious, weary. His brow furrowed, and you noticed how similar his confused expression was to Joel’s.

“What are you doing here?”

With a smirk, you responded, “Told you you wouldn’t leave here without me.”

He only shook his head, fighting a grin, as the two of you turned to watch Joel and Ellie. It came as a shock to you how quickly she chose Joel. Her decision was quick, without question, and made Joel fail miserably in hiding his elation. She was already swinging her leg to climb on top of the horse by the time Joel registered her clear devotion.

You should’ve been relieved – relieved that Tommy would be staying here and not taking some random teenager across the empty planes far from Jackson, alone. Maybe a part of you should’ve felt traces of bitterness for not having the opportunity to leave as you wanted to. But all you felt was a feeling of dread deep in your chest, like that day twenty years earlier. Outbreak Day. The day your brother never came back.

“I’m going with them.”

It was quiet. Small. Even without trying, Tommy still heard it.

His head whipped towards you. “What? Why?”

“Something still doesn’t feel right, Tommy.”

He studied you – the way your eyes never left Ellie, or Joel. Finally, he nodded. “Then, I’ll go.”

“What?” You turned to face him, shaking your head. “Tommy, you can’t just leave like you used to. Maria needs you here.”

“If something happens to my brother, I should be there.”

A lump formed in your throat at his sentiment, but you’ve had enough practice to push it down. You only nodded solemnly. “Maria needs you Tommy. I’ll go.”

Tommy took a moment. He looked between Joel and Ellie, then to you. He finally nodded and set his gaze on Joel. “You need an escort?”

–

A part of you was glad to find immediate solace in the way the sun crept along your neck and pulled apart your every tensed muscle. Even if your only thought was Tommy's parting words to you.

"Play nice," he had whispered, looking meaningfully towards you. He had nodded in Joel's direction. "Go easy on him."

The other part of you was too consumed by the consistent chatter coming from the two trotting close to your left. Joel’s responses, however short and sparse, were nothing compared to Ellie’s tendency to ramble. His speech still came – deep and soft – more often than you expected it to. Joel was a different man with Ellie; that much was clear.

“What about you?” Ellie's voice drifted towards you without caution.

“Ellie,” Joel grunted.

“What? It’s just a question. Doesn’t have to be answered … but I know it will be.”

Your eyebrow perked up as you chanced a side-long look in her direction. “Yeah? What makes you think that?”

“I can see you over there, practically dying to chime in on our conversation.”

“That’s an overstatement.”

“Maybe … but it’s true. Partial truth, I guess, but true all the same.”

“I actually didn’t think the two of you would be this talkative.”

“He didn’t use to be.”

You looked over at Joel this time. His eyes flitted away from you at first contact, feigning indifference. His elbow nudged Ellie from where she sat behind him, gripping his jacket. It was clearly his attempt to shut her up before she said something that might crack his facade. But you’d be lying if you weren’t curious. The older Miller brother was growing harder to read – nothing like how you’d thought or how Maria assumed him to be. 

You decided to lean into Ellie’s good graces, to spurn her on. If and only if to protect Tommy, even if it meant from his own brother. “Alright. I’ll bite.”

“He used to be a grump. Always said,” she paused, inflating her chest as she put on, what you assumed to be, her best attempt at Joel’s accent, “‘no’ or ‘Ellie shut up.’”

“And what changed?”

The two of them went radio silent, and you shrugged it off with an annoying tug of disappoint. At worst, you’d already missed your chance to nudge at the real reason the two of them suddenly wound up in Jackson, or if Joel posed a risk to all that Tommy built away from him. At best, you gained the silence you were hoping for.

For two seconds.

“So, movies. Were they always like that – like back in Jackson. Just a bunch of people in front of a screen, watching some boring movie.”

You wanted to snort at that. A brief quirk of the corners of your lips probably betrayed the humor you’d found in her statement. For a brief moment, you remembered him – your brother. Jostling your shoulders in the snack line, ready and willing to watch some movie with you because none of your friends would. So carefree, so unaware of the hell that would lead to neither one of you seeing the inside of a theater ever again.

The hilarity of it all suddenly died.

“Pretty much,” Joel offered. “Overpriced junk food, long lines, and faded chairs with candy stuck between every cushion.”

You frowned at that, sending a glare in his direction that you didn’t entirely mean. Before the outbreak, movies were your favorite. It felt remiss to let Joel dull the experience for a kid – for someone who would never get to experience it the way you did. The way either of you did, if Joel were to be honest you were sure. 

You scoffed, gaining both of their attention almost immediately. “Jackson is only half of what the world was like. A good half – or start, I guess – but half all the same. Everything’s different, including movies. Back then, movies were packed with people of all ages. Everyone was always excited to see whatever was playing. Or, sometimes, you’d go to these places – stores – and get the movies there to watch at home.”

“Movie stores,” she stated. Whimsical. Dream-like.

You nodded. “You’d rent them, take them home, and probably lose them the next day. You’d rack up enough late fees to make you never want to rent a movie again. Then you show up … and do it all over again.”

“Why?”

Thinking about the world in its current state and everything you did before the outbreak seemed silly, dramatic. The cares of that life seemed so far away, so distant and ridiculous, you were sure it had no meaning now and certainly had no meaning then. But it was nice … even if the information was being forced out of you, pried by someone – just a kid – who meant no harm, just an innocence worth protecting.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully.

You spared a glance in their direction and saw them both looking at you intently. You cleared your throat, mentioning something about being careful and needing to make it to your destination in a timely manner, before spurring your horse forward with a kick of your heel.

–

Their words became isolated, faraway, with the distance you put between yourself and them. You kept your head on a swivel, watching and waiting for anything out of the norm or out of place. It had been awhile since you made this trip, but you were still able to remember natural landmarks fairly easily. You were starting to think your worry was for nothing, that Joel might be wondering why you’d made such a commotion at the thought of them leaving alone.

At the thought, you turned around to check on the now silent duo. Your checks were periodical, militaristic, but necessary all the same. From here, it seemed like Ellie’s head had found rest against Joel’s shoulder, brown ponytail tossing in the wind and brushing against his bare skin. It stirred something in the pit of your stomach, so you faced forward.

You trotted onward, slightly shocked Joel made no mention of setting up camp as the sun dipped lower and lower. Your only thoughts were on the destination, pushing and testing the boundary on how far you could ride before camp was unavoidable.

Eventually, you decided to relent. The sun was low in the sky, and dusk was beginning to wane. You turned and sent a nod in Joel’s direction before pulling off the road to find camp. This was the one part you never particularly liked. Camping, even in a part shrouded by trees, felt too open, too vulnerable. But it was all you could manage between here and the firefly base.

To your slight surprise, Ellie and Joel worked in near perfect unison to take off their packs and find places to settle while you attended to the horses. It didn’t take long for Ellie to slip into her sleeping bag and let sleep wash over her. Even in the middle of a dense wooded area, on hardened ground and surrounded by unlocalized sounds, sleep came easily for her. You were slightly jealous and suddenly reminiscent of times when sleep came easily for you too.

When you were finished, you took refuge against a tree, back digging into the bark. Quietly, Joel sat adjacent to you, eyes also on Ellie but, every so often, on you.

“How do you know Tommy?”

You almost wanted to laugh at how quickly he jumped right into conversation. Without Ellie’s chatter, it didn’t seem like Joel could stand the quiet any more than he could stand having an added third party with them. Or maybe he was just genuinely curious about his brother. With all the time between them since the last time they’d seen each other, it was only right that he’d be interested in the life Tommy built away from him.

You wondered what it was like – for an older sibling to watch what the younger had built without them, without their help.

Tommy. Just the thought of him made you turn toward Joel. You caught his eye just as his gaze flitted toward you. The two of you eyed each other, wearily.

You wanted to ignore Joel completely if it meant sitting in comfortable silence, but Tommy meant something to you. And Joel meant something to Tommy. 

Play nice, Tommy had whispered. You partially hated how he assumed you wouldn’t … even if he was right.

“We met a little while before we bumped into Maria and her crew.” You shrugged. “I guess you could say we’ve been something like partners ever since.”

“He never mentioned you on the radio.” 

“Tell me, Joel, did you ever have conversations that would’ve led to him mentioning me?”

Joel seemed partially stunned by the biting remark. He gave a small shake of his head before retreating back into himself. A heavy feeling settled in your chest at the sight. With a sigh, you decide to give conversation another try.

“So, how do you know the kid?”

He huffed. “‘S complicated.”

You glanced at the horizon. “We’ve got six hours, cowboy.”

The nickname slipped from your tongue so easily you almost didn’t catch it. It was normal, typical, when talking to Tommy. You tried to ignore Joel’s raised brow when he looked at you for a long moment before responding.

“I’m just meant to protect her, that’s all.”

“I get that.”

A wry smile broke his neutral expression as he shook his head, picking up your insinuation. “Tommy’s a grown man. He doesn’t need protectin’.”

“And that’s why you traveled across the country to get to him?”

“He’s my brother. That’s different. ”

“Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing an impending lump in your throat. Your gaze dropped to your lap. “Yeah.” 

A quiet fell between you two. The surrounding trees suddenly felt too close, too restrictive. You were certain they were starting to close in on you. You probably would've stood and tried to find a clearing had it not been for Joel clearing his throat.

“What about you — any family?”

“We all used to have somebody.”

“Colby seems to know you well enough. Seems to be the only person I’ve seen you talk to other than Tommy.”

“Well, in the two minutes you’ve been here, yes. Colby’s my patrol partner. It was always Tommy, but we’ve learned to accept things as they are in Jackson. Even if it means something as simple as trading shifts.”

“You or Tommy?”

You looked at him, brow quirked in confusion. “What?”

“You said ‘we’ve learned to accept.’ You certainly sound like ‘em. At least, the way he is now anyway. Just wonderin’ if you’ve taken to Jackson’s many … rules like he has.”

You suddenly remembered what you had told him back at the stables – about wanting to leave Jackson. You shook your head at the memory.

“Jackson really is a good place. They’ve treated us like their own from day one. I didn’t trust them at first, but we made friends … I still think I can thank Marie’s soft spot for Tommy for that.”

“So you were there? When they were … married.”

“Of course I was. Look, I know Tommy. He rushes into things, doesn’t always think them through …,” Your voice trailed off at Joel's sharp glance. You realized how you must’ve sounded, but it was clear his sudden attention wasn’t from a place of warning or hostility. He was agreeing, partially shocked at how observant and perceptive you were to who his brother was. You continued on, “ … but I really think he took his time with this. He cares about her, a lot.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“You and him just seem so close. I thought …”

He wasn't sure what he thought, but he didn't finish his thought. A part of you was glad for it, even if the conversation dwindled. Not because you weren’t used to people assuming some sort of romantic past existed between you and Tommy, which it didn’t, but because you were not in the least bit interested broaching that subject with his older brother.

You stood to your feet. “Tommy’s my friend. I protect his the way he would protect mine. Right now, that means you.” You look around, trying not to look at his expression. He seemed surprised – eyeing you as if he was trying to figure you out. You didn’t particularly like it. “We should probably check the perimeter again. It’s been awhile.” You nod in some vague direction. “I’ll head over there, make sure the area’s clear.”

“Yeah.” Joel was nodding finally, taking his time to stand to his feet. He seemed to tower over you, even while leaning. It was then you noticed he was slightly taller than Tommy. A few inches, but taller all the same. You were surprised he didn’t laugh at the notion of you protecting him the way Tommy always did. “If you see something … shout.”

“And wake the kid?” You nodded toward Ellie, sleeping in her sack like a pile of bricks. A ghost of a smile almost graced your lips. Almost. “I’d kill to sleep like that again. If I see something, I’ll take care of it.”

“She’s tougher than she looks. Even if you do wake her, she’ll be alright.”

The two of you shared a nod before parting ways. Joel was the one to glance over his shoulder at your retreating figure first. Then you at his.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tommymiller #tommy miller x platonic!reader #the last of us tv show #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #thelastofus #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joelmiller

[lxdyred]

New people in town

Joel Miller x Ex-lover!Reader (She/her), OC!May Miller x Mom!Reader, Tommy Miller x Reader (Platonic af)

Chapter II

Summary: In which a girl discovers how the new man in town — who was accompanied by another teenage girl — and her mother were closely and intimately related once, and how almost two decades after they last saw each other, their reunion could possibly turn their worlds upside down.

New people in town playlist! ✨

Warning: swear words, mentions of death, violence and sex, possible smut in the future, ANGST, etc. Possible spoilers!

A/N: English is not my maternal language, Spanish is, so I will take advantage of that in the future lmao. Also if you see any grammatical error, please let me know!

Tag list: Open! If you wanna be tag let me know, also if by any chance you wanna get removed, also let me know! Ty :)

Feedback is really appreciated! ❤️

2005

She wasn't the least bit used to sleeping next to someone, sharing a bed and such a small space. Even before the outbreak, she was not. Yes, she had occasionally shared a bed with one of her girl or guy friends, but it came always from the most platonic place possible. Whenever she had had sex, it had always been sporadic, with no possibility of sleeping in the same bed with such people.

This time it was different, he was different. And that was a problem. She didn't know if allowing herself to let her guard down in that way was going to benefit her in any way, or the opposite.

For every time you let someone into your life in a cruel world like the one she lived in, it only meant one more loss at some point.

The man she had lying next to her, naked, was not her boyfriend — in fact, he wasn't even her friend — they were partners, strictly. And roommates, occasionally. Still, she let her guard down for once, and so she ended up clinging to the warm, broad back of her partner, who was sleeping on his right side. She rested her forehead against the back of his neck, and as she closed her eyes, she listened to the rain falling outside.

It wasn't until her breathing matched his and she was about to fall asleep that he shifted his position and turned onto his left side, coming face to face with her, who still had her eyes closed, even though she was still pretty much awake.

"Shit." He mumbled in the darkness of the room, seeing her body so close to his. Naked and vulnerable, just like him. He did no more, admiring her briefly and pondering the situation he found himself in, despite the heaviness of his eyelids, he shook and dropped his head back onto the pillow, hiding his face in her hair, after that, he hugged her waist over the old blanket that covered them both.

When their breaths came in rhythm again, she opened her eyes and looked up, noticed his relaxed expression and ventured to stealthily bring her hand to the scar on the right side of his forehead, stroked it gently, lovingly, then moved on to caress the curls at the back of his head.

The rain was now falling harder outside, which caused her to look up to the window of the room, still not moving her head in the slightest. The water was falling heavily and was accompanied by the occasional silver streak of a lightning.

It was as if, in some way, the storm that was raging outside was a reflection of the internal struggle she was having.

Was letting her guard down with him a wise choice? Would it hurt in any way? Was he an exception, perhaps, even though they were still strangers?

Before she could even have an answer to all those questions in her head, she fell into the arms of Morpheus. And for the first time since it all began, she slept with an unfamiliar, warm sense of security, which allowed her to feel some sort peace.

2023

"Be very, very careful, okay, my love?" Said the progenitor whom still continued to see the teen as her baby. "Listen always to-"

"-Your aunt Maria. All the time, yeah, okay? I'll be fine. We won't go far." Said the young woman, named May, as she pulled on her gloves before heading to the horse she was about to ride.

"I will have my eyes on her, all the time. Nothing will happen to her, also I will make sure she learns a thing or two." Maria said as she approached the duo, she was accompanied by her husband, Tommy, and the horse she was gonna rode in. "She is a very sharp and clever girl, I assure you she will be a great addition to the expedition and patrol group."

"Maybe one day I can take charge of leading them, you'll see." Half-joked the curly-haired young woman, giving a glance at all the members of her little family.

"It's only a matter of time, sweetheart." Her uncle said, giving his niece a smile as he patted her shoulder playfully. "While you're gone I'll take care of your dearest mother here."

"Thanks, Uncle Tommy." May said before hugging her uncle tightly.

"You're getting stronger and stronger." The man commented with a tone of surprise as he felt the strong grip the young girl had exercised in that brief embrace.

"That's what happens when you lift more weights than your uncle." The brown-eyed girl scoffed, before glancing at her mother, who was looking at the pair in amusement.

"See you in the afternoon, mama." Said the young girl before hugging her mother. Unlike the hug she had with her uncle, this one lasted a little longer and was gentler.

Before they broke the embrace, Red took her daughter's face and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Enjoy the experience, and you better let me know how it went later." She said, squeezing her daughter's hands affectionately, before letting her go.

"Shall I walk you to the clinic?" Tommy asked, after watching his wife and niece ride off on their respective horses.

"Yeah, let's go, Texas."

Tommy ran a hand through his mustache and looked at his friend, who was walking silently beside him. She wore a small smile on her face, one that reflected melancholy, even regret in a way. The younger Miller put his hand on her shoulder, which caused her to stop and give him a curious look.

"What's on your mind, my friend?"

"It's nothing."

"Red?" the man asked, folding his arms. "Spill it, come on."

"Tommy." She said resting her hands on her hips.

"Reddie." He mimicked her, trying to goad her into talking. "I'm your best friend, you know you can tell me anything. You'll never be judged."

"I'm late for work."

The dark curly-haired man looked at his watch, then at his friend. "It's still 20 minutes before you start your shift at the clinic."

"She looks more like him every day." She said at last. "She’ll be 18 in a few weeks and in a way... I can't stop thinking about him lately. And everything he's missed out on with her, because of me."

"Oh, honey." Tommy sighed before pulling her into his body, and resting one of his hands on her head.

"Because of my fucking selfishness and fear of telling him the truth, May has grown up without her father and Joel doesn't even know he has a daughter."

"Listen to me, okay?" his best friend demanded as he grabbed her face with both hands, causing her to fix her gaze on his. "You made the right decision by leaving Boston and not looking back. Don't get me wrong, I love my big brother dearly, but back then, Joel was a fucking mess and didn't care if he blew up everything in his path after Sarah's death. Joel was only a shell of what he once was."

"Don't you think at least I should-"

"Don't torment yourself with the 'what ifs'. They won't help you at all." Tommy wiped the tears away from his friend's face and gave her a small smile. "Besides, you should be proud of the tremendous good job you've done raising your daughter on your own, on your fucking own, and in this fucking post-apocalyptic world.

"Thanks, Miller." Said the woman, smiling at her daughter's uncle. "You know what I love about May? She smiles when she sleeps, whenever I think about it, I feel so much better. Thinking about making sure she keeps smiling… motivates me to keep going."

"Sarah used to do that too."

"Yeah?" the Nurse asked, her eyes lighting up at the thought of the two sisters sharing one more small gesture. "I wish they'd met."

"Sarah would have adored May. Believe me when I tell you she wouldn't have left your daughter's side no matter what."

2005

"Are you all right?" asked the comforting voice from behind her, soon after she felt a gentle squeeze on her shoulder.

She brought her hand to his and closed her eyes briefly, trying to hold back the tears. She knew Joel wasn't a man who showed his feelings, he wasn't usually physically close to her, except for when they slept together.

She didn't know much about him, or his life before the apocalypse. She for sure knew very basic and trivial things, which you might find out about someone on a first date. But at the same time, even when she didn't know anything about his past, she felt an intimate connection and familiarity with him. She felt safe, secure. He was the only person who conveyed that to her.

"Yes, don't worry." She said, nodding slightly, as she brushed her tears away with her free hand.

He knelt down in front of her and cupped her face with both hands. From where she sat on his couch, she could only stand silently watching him intently. He was covered in grime and dust, probably from all the hard work he had done throughout the day. "Something happened at work."

"That sounds like a statement you're making."

"I know it is." He said with his characteristic tone, rough, but soft somehow. "Has anyone given you trouble?" the man questioned with a frown. She didn't answer. "Should I break someone’s jaw to-"

"-No!"

"Do... you want to talk about it?"

She sniffled and looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears that again threatened to spill from her eyes. She shook her head vigorously, and gently rested her forehead against his. "Joel... I- You'll see..."

"What's wrong?"

"I know it's just sex between us, and other than that, we're partners and occasionally roommates, but... can I ask you a favour?" the young adult woman asked, showing her weakness.

"I guess, yes."

"Can we — just for tonight, just for once — sleep together, just sleep?" With trepidation she asked. "I know that because of everything you've been through, you keep your distance from people, but I'm asking you… please. Just for one night, can we be friends? You're the closest thing I have to one here."

Joel seemed to think about it, but a few seconds later he nodded slightly, and without a word, rose from the floor and offered a hand to her, who took it. He pulled her to his body, and she collapsed into tears on his chest.

"Shh... easy. I've got you." He planted a kiss on her hairline and with one hand stroked her back. Her breath hitched briefly, but for a few moments she allowed herself to enjoy and savour this unusual little moment with him.

She was so fucked. She was toasted, no doubt about it.

Despite the fact that they were practically, as many would say, perfect strangers, she had fallen in love with him, and she knew that wasn't the fucked up part of the whole situation. The doubly fucked up part was making a decision as to how she was going to let him go.

It shouldn't be that hard, she used to think from time to time. He doesn't feel anything for me, she used to think too.

It should be relatively easy, shouldn't it? To let go of a person who you know doesn't love you back. Who you know doesn't see you as anything more than a partner, who would help him from time to time with some smuggling business or help him to patch up the wounds he got, either from a fight or from the work he did to earn ration cards. Well, that and a person with whom she occasionally fucked — lately much more frequently than before — to relieve his stress, anger, or whatever.

She didn't mind, when she felt the same way she would go to him for exactly the same thing. Only unlike him, at some point along the way, she ended up catching feelings for the guy from Texas.

Holy fuck.

2023

"Hey, mama!" The young woman with curly brown hair said coming through the door. She was almost 18 years old, tall and with slightly tanned skin. She had a beautiful, radiant smile, which made her nose, identical to her mother's, scrunch slightly. But undoubtedly her most distinctive features were her huge chocolate eyes and the freckles that adorned her cheeks and nose — a trait her own mother did not know from whom she had inherited them.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Her mother, no more than 43 years old, replied as she looked at her daughter curiously. "How did your first expedition out of Jackson go? Did you do what we agreed, May?" she asked, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms, waiting for an answer.

"Always do what Aunt Maria says. Yes, maaaama." The young woman said as she leaned against the kitchen counter, and watched intently as her mother prepared the evening's dinner. "It was quite unexpected what happened today. You see, a man and his daughter, came in asking for Uncle Tommy."

"Maybe an old friend of his. You know, from when he was with the Fireflies." The mother said to her daughter as she opened the oven door, then picked up the big tray she was going to put in the oven.

"No, not exactly, madre. That man was looking for his brother, Uncle Tommy."

CLANK!

Once the tray made contact with the floor, silence reigned in the kitchen for a few seconds. The young girl approached her mother, concern and nervousness flooding her face.

"Mama, are you okay?" the chocolate-eyed girl asked. "Mom, do you know that man? Do you know who he is?" May asked in a whisper, as she stroked her mother's back.

She could only nod awkwardly and slowly, as she was unable to look her daughter in the eyes. She swallowed and went to one of the kitchen stools, where she sat down and hid her face in her hands.

She sighed regretfully, before opening her eyes and pushing her hair behind her ears. "Yes, I know him — knew him. That was a lifetime ago, my love. But that was before you were even born."

"Did he know... my father? Or perhaps he knows what has become of him?"

The woman looked at her daughter, and brought a hand to the stool beside her, inviting her beloved daughter, the thing she loved most in this broken world, to take her place beside her. "May. You should sit down, I think it's time I told you about him. It's time I told you about your real father — Joel Miller."

"Joel Miller? As if Miller like- Uncle Tommy?"

"Yes." Red admitted with a sense of defeat.

"I don't get it, Mom." With confusion reflected on her face the little girl said. "I'm supposed to have adopted my last name from Tommy because I needed one for school?"

"May. You see-"

"You're telling me that Uncle Tommy is, in fact, my uncle not only because of your good relationship, but also because of what he is biologically?" May gripped the kitchen counter tightly, while frowning and still confused, she tried to process the information she was receiving. "When were you going to tell me all this? Or didn't you plan to?"

"I don't know, sweetheart." She answered honestly as she stood up and tried to take her daughter's hand, to try to comfort her.

The teenager pulled her hand away before she could even touch it. She felt betrayed by her own mother. "Please- Don't!" She exclaimed raising her hands in the air in frustration. "Is that the reason he's here looking for Tommy!? Because he knows his brother has practically raised his daughter?"

Red was silent for a few seconds. "No... no that's- No. Besides, that's not possible."

"Ah, so Joel Miller has no interest in meeting own daughter?" the young woman asked sharply, as tears formed in her eyes.

"No, May, that's not it, alright?" sighed the mother as she looked away from her daughter and tried to find a way to tell her the truth.

"Then why?"

"Because he doesn't know he has a daughter."

"I mean, he- He's come all this way and he doesn't even know about me?" May asked, trying to stifle a sob. "Why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"Because I wanted to protect you!"

"From what? Holy shit, mom!" May exploded. She could no longer contain herself.

"From the fucking truth!" Her mother exclaimed in the same way. "That I was a fucking coward. And that because of my fucking decisions Joel hasn't even had a chance to... know about you."

"One thing we agree on then, mother. You're a fucking coward!"

A lump formed in Red's throat. Her breath hitched, her heart skipped a beat and her body began to tremble. Tears blurred her vision and she was unable to watch as her daughter angrily left the scene, which she let her know due to the tremendous slamming of the front door of the house, giving her to understand that she had left the house and left her alone, by herself with her regrets.

2005

“Joel.

Honestly, I don't know why I'm writing you this letter. I don't know if you care enough about me to at least write you an explanation, I guess I'm doing it rather for me. By the time you read this I will be gone. I'll probably be far away, maybe I'll never come back, or maybe I will.

I don't know what will become of me and that terrifies me, but at the same time it motivates me to keep going, to keep fighting. Just like you. Even though I haven't known you for very long, you've made a big impact on me. I know that we are very different, I know that many times we have disagreed on many things and that we have clashed, but even so, when I was not up to the task and I have probably been a hindrance to you, you have protected me and taken care of me — always from a distance, except when we both sought comfort in each other's arms —.

I know the last thing you want is to leave another person in your life. It's understandable, especially in a world like this where that means loss. This is one of the reasons why I'm leaving. To avoid jumping over the walls you have built, so that I can respect your boundaries and prevent you from ending up like me. I don't know at what point it happened, but you managed to jump over all my walls. You've been the only person capable of doing it until now and that terrifies me. I'm terrified of losing you. I'm also terrified of staying in Boston and seeing you letting your guard down with someone else, not being that person. I know it's selfish, but I didn't want to risk living in this broken world with an even more broken heart. It's probably already like that.

It already breaks my heart to leave you behind, without saying goodbye, but I know I will heal. I will find something that gives meaning to my life and I will fight on. I hope, too, that when you're ready, you'll find that reason too.

Try to be happy.

I love you.”

2023

"May! May!" Red exclaimed as she pounded on the door of Tommy and Maria's house. "Anybody home? Maria?" She asked as she took a few steps back and peered into the windows of the house, trying to see if there was movement inside.

She looked around the house and tried to see if there was any sign of the young girl with the curly hair anywhere, but there didn't seem to be any luck. She put her hands to her mouth and tried to warm them. She watched as the snow began to fall again, which caused her to go briefly into a small trance.

She remembered May's first snowfall, in the winter of 2005. She was only a few weeks old and they were both alone on the road, trying to find a safe place to spend the night. May had not stopped crying all day, hungry because she was not producing enough milk, as she had barely found food and water the last few days. The little girl's cries kept her mother alert all the time, waiting for an infected to appear and attack them. She could still remember the terror and paranoia in her bones. It wasn't until the snow began to fall that the newborn girl calmed down, watching the snowflakes fall, so that soon after she fell asleep.

"That May you are looking for is not here.”Said a voice that brought her out of her trance.

She walked back to the front door and there she saw a person she didn't recognise, poking her head out from inside. "You are not Maria.” Said the woman with obviousness.

"No. I'm Ellie." Said the young teenager, looking her up and down.

"You are the kid who was with Joel." Red muttered, looking at her intently. She didn't look like him.

Maybe she looked like her mother?

"Do you know him?" Ellie asked as she opened the door all the way and showed her body.

She nodded. "I used to, a long time ago." She replied rubbing her hands together from the cold. "I imagine you and your father came all the way from Boston. I hope the trip wasn't too hard," Red said sincerely, as she gave the teenager a small smile.

"That old man isn't my dad." Ellie laughed at the witticism of the woman standing a few feet away from her. "But- uhm... thanks?" She replied at what the woman had said to her about the trip there.

Reddie nodded her head and gave Ellie another small smile before setting off to find her daughter.

"Wait!" Ellie said to her from the doorway, causing her to turn and look at her curiously. "Why don't you go inside and wait for Maria? She'll be able to help you."

"Thanks, but I can't." She thanked the girl. "Please, when you see Maria or Tommy, can you tell them that if they see May to tell her that her mother is looking for her and to come home?"

The teen nodded her head. "I will." She whispered, in response.

"Thank you so much, Ellie." May's mother told her before turning back on her heels and heading off to find her daughter. "By the way, welcome to Jackson!" Ellie heard her saying from a little further away.

The young girl smiled to herself and watched as the woman disappeared into the distance, closing the door as she felt a cold breeze, but not before wondering how she knew Joel.

[…]

It had been three, almost four hours since May had left home and her mother had not been able to find her. It was as if she had disappeared from town. She had looked everywhere; at her friends' house, at Tommy and Maria's house twice, in the main hall of the village, in the stables... nothing!

She walked silently down the empty main street, not a soul was there. Everyone was gathered around the main hall watching that film of which she couldn't remember the name. Now it was colder than before, the sun had set a while ago and the snow was still falling, although now with less force.

She stopped to look at the Christmas tree and thought of her family, of all those she had lost. She smiled sadly as she wished things were different and that she could be held by her loved ones once more. She wished that the Outbreak had never happened, that nothing was the way it was.

No! Not that!

She shook her head, trying to shake off the thought. Yes, there were things she missed from her life 20 years ago, and there were certainly things she wished she hadn't lived since then. But May? May was a blessing and the best thing that had ever happened to her in her entire earthly existence. She was grateful to have her, and therefore thanked any deity or cosmic force for having put the Miller brothers in her path.

She resumed her walk once again, leaving the Christmas tree behind her. Hopefully her daughter would be there by now and they could talk about everything at length. At the thought, her stomach sank with nerves. But she ignored it.

May deserved to know the truth, she deserved to know everything.

As she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she didn't see that silhouette appear from the side and practically jump out at her, causing her to fall to the snowy ground surprised. But when she heard her daughter's laughter, a huge sense of relief washed over her.

She clung in a hug to her daughter's body, which was lying on top of hers, and then, she too burst out laughing. She looked to her side once her daughter lay on the floor beside her. She sighed and watched intently as the young woman, who was undoubtedly the spitting image of her one-time lover, gazed raptly at the night sky and lights around her.

"I'm so sorry, Mama. For how I behaved with you before." Said the young woman, a mist adorned the words that left her lips.

"I'm sorry too, baby girl. For not telling you the truth before." She apologised too, as she sat down on the floor.

Her daughter mimicked her and sat down as well, took her mother's cold hand in hers and rubbed it gently. "I want to know everything. No more half-truths, okay?"

"Okay." Reddie said as she brushed an unruly curl away from her daughter's face, tucking it behind her ear. She stroked her cheek with her free hand and gave her a small smile. "Fancy a hot chocolate in front of the fireplace... while I tell you all?"

"Sounds great!" May said as she stood up from the floor and offered a hand to her to make it easier for her to get up. "Now get up, you're freezing. You'll catch a cold."

The mother flinched at the almost adult woman's comment. "Since when do you behave as if you were my mother?"

"Since I'm the one who has to pick you up off the floor like you are a little girl?" the young Miller laughed.

"Ha! I love you, too, you nightmare child." Red said carelessly, shaking off the snow on her legs. She looked at her daughter who was suddenly silent. "May?" she asked, noticing that the girl was staring at a spot behind her.

"Mama..." the young girl whispered, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite make out, only to turn her attention back to what she had previously been staring at, causing her mother to turn and look in that direction as well.

And there he was.

The man she had loved for all those years and had to leave behind. This time he was different from the last time she saw him, obviously, time had passed for him too. His gorgeous curly hair had gone grayer, and so did his beard. But without a doubt he still had almost the same physical constitution as he had had almost 20 years ago.

He was still just as undeniably handsome, though.

"Joel..." she let out in a whisper, which she doubted he would ever hear.

The man looked at her with surprise, as if he had seen a ghost, in a way. He certainly hadn't expected that after all those years he would see her again, let alone there.

Not after convincing himself that he would never see her again.

He looked at her carefully, hoping to somehow rule out that what he was seeing, not far from him, wasn't some kind of trick his mind was playing on him. Then his gaze shifted to the young teenager, who, stunned by the scene before her, shifted her gaze from her mother to the man she had discovered a few hours ago to be her father, repeatedly.

Red took May's hand and the young girl squeezed it, looked down at their hands and then back up at Joel, who was still looking at them. The adult woman bit her lower lip and tried to articulate a word, but was unable to.

Then it was when she saw it in his gaze, which changed from surprise to realization, that something had clicked in his head. It was as if he had found the last missing piece in the puzzle he had been unable to solve all that time.

And what to say. No words were needed. It was in the soft sound of the winter night, in the gentle, cold breeze, that the truth came out.

That truth he had been unaware of, until that precious moment.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x original character #joel miller #fem!reader #ellie williams x platonic!reader #joel and ellie #ellie williams x platonic!oc #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x oc #tommy miller x platonic!reader #oc x reader #lxdyred #angst #fanfiction #reader insert #the last of us #hbo the last of us #tlou spoilers #tlou #tlou fanfiction #spoilers #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #hbo!joel miller x reader #pedro pascal!joel miller x reader #new people in town #npit

[prentissluvr]

too cold — joel (and tommy) miller

gn!reader , (future)fatherfigure!joel (and tommy tbh) , takes place a year or two after joel and ellie settle in jackson , reader is in their mid/late teens , hurt/comfort, angst , cw : brief mentions of loss of friends and family, hypothermia , wc : 3.8K , special thanks to @piggyjeans for reading this for me and motivating me to wrap up this part and get it out to you guys !! <333

at this point, you’re beginning to wonder why you even try. you wonder if there’s a point when the scraps of any family you had left, found or biological, are long gone and you’re on the brink of freezing to death yourself. you managed a fire last night, but you’re shivering beyond control even in the daylight with your sore lack of a real coat. wherever you are, it’s cold as hell and winter is setting in far faster than you could ever combat. essentially, you’re screwed. it seems like it might snow more, there’s not a building in sight, and you’re running out of bullets and food. the cold bites at your exposed nose and takes permanent root in your bones.

night falls far too quickly, bringing the thick snow that you feared almost as much as infected or people; those you could fight, but the snow? against that you have no defense but a sputtering fire, measly shelter, and a slowly thinning sleeping bag. curled into yourself as much as you can, it takes a concerningly small amount of time for you to fall asleep.

by the time you finally come back into consciousness, the struggle to open your eyes scares you even in the muddled state of your mind. the sun is far higher than ideal; already you’ve lost precious traveling time now that your only hope is to find abandoned buildings to scavenge for supplies. and yet, the last thing you want to do is get out of your sleeping bag. it’s kept you as warm as you could be, and even now in the leftover warmth sleep, you’re all too aware of the snow that blew into the small overhand of rocks you slept underneath and the way it’s freezing temperatures will soak into your feet until it reaches every nerve of your body when you continue your trek through the forest.

but, despite that heavy question of what’s the point, there’s no way you’re going to let yourself give up and waste away in the cold without trying to save someone, even if that someone is yourself. so with every struggle, you pull your hands out from their haven in the swaths of fabric, fumbling slightly to zip open the bag and pull yourself out. you’re eternally grateful that you have gloves, but within the few minutes of packing up, the cold has already started to settle in your hands, feet, and face. begrudgingly, you swing your pack onto your shoulder and shove your hands into your pockets, looking for the most direct path to higher ground to scope out any buildings.

as you start out, it seems as though travel may not be the worst. but the thick snow from last night’s flurries and the still slowly falling flakes are quick to tire your legs from the effort, and the way that your jacket lets in too much of the numbing wind hinders your pace. you find yourself exhausted, taking moments to rest against trees that stretch into minutes, maybe longer as your mind becomes foggy and consistent shivering sets in throughout your whole body. 

you stumble a bit and clumsily grab hold of the nearest tree. what the hell am i doing? you wonder. you let your whole side press against the rough surface of the tree, squeezing your eyes shut, then opening them in attempts to clear your head. but that doesn’t seem to help when you start to wonder if you’re hallucinating. just meters away your eyes land on a tall brown horse, an animal you don’t think you’ve seen outside of pictures. you stare at it in wonder for a moment, but a feeling of panic sets in when you process the fact that there’s a man sitting on the horse, a large rifle strapped across his back.

with your shaky hands you fumble around to pull out your gun, but it does you no good when the rifle is pointed at you in seconds. 

despite the threat, the man’s voice isn’t harsh when he calls out to you. “’s alright. ’m not here to hurt you, alright? just drop your weapon.” without much resistance, you do as he says, seeing no other choice and feeling not an ounce of energy to fight back. within moments, he’s off the horse, one hand on its reins and the other put up in the air in a careful truce as he slowly moves closer to you. when he’s near enough that the snow doesn’t obstruct his view of your face, he can see the way that you’re shivering and the unfocused look in your eyes and can immediately notice that something’s not quite right.

“i need you to tell me if you’re infected. don’t lie now, alright? i’ll shoot you if i find out you do.” at this, his voice is more stern, stirring up a bit more fear in you. but you’re able to shake your head clearly.

“no. no, ’m not infected. haven’t run into any for days,” you speak aloud for the first time since you woke up this morning, and you don’t notice the way that your speech is slurred, but he does.

“alright, then. kid, i’m gonna get you somewhere warm, okay?” in the back of your head, you’re terrified to let him closer, to let some stranger lead you somewhere, but the promise of warmth is something you desperately need. even so, you flinch away when he’s finally right next to you and reaches out. “i promise ’m not gonna hurt ya. i’ve got somewhere safe and warm for you, you’re gonna freeze to death if you don't get some help now.” he’s completely right, you realize, so you just nod. “there ya go. do’y have a coat we can get on you?” he frowns when you shake your head, but doesn’t hesitate to unzip his own padded coat. gently, he pulls your pack off your back and sets it down. you don’t even realize what he’s doing until he shrugs his own coat over your shoulders and pulls it tight over your front. the leftover warmth from his own body is heavenly, but in the action, you lose your support against the tree and unconsciously lean into his firm frame. you don’t notice, but he stiffens at this, and his frown grows deeper when he feels how cold you are to the touch.

with strong hands, he pulls you away from him slightly. wordlessly, he guides your shivering arms into the sleeves of his coat, silently grateful for the warm jacket he still has on.

“we’ve gotta get on the horse, now.” 

you just nod, letting him guide you to the tall animal. but you stop short at its side, completely unsure of how you’ll get up.

“first you put your right foot in the stirrup, right here.” you don’t have to say anything for him to begin telling you what you need to. “put your hand on the saddle here to help you up. i’m gonna hold you steady, okay?” you nod, letting him place his firm hands on your waist as you put the last of your strength into lifting one foot into the stirrup. “now you’ve gotta push up with that foot to swing your other leg over the horse.” it takes all of your concentration to understand what he says, and strength that you don’t have to actually do it. it’s messy, but thanks to his help and some miracle, you find yourself on top of the horse and putting all of your effort into staying upright.

“there ya go. i’m gonna get on in front of you, don’t you fall off now.” he quickly fastens your pack onto the horse, letting out a small grunt as he pulls himself up onto the animal. his body warmth right in front of you is precious and you don’t have it in you to feel awkward in the way he does as he pulls your arms around his torso to keep you steady. “just hold on and stay awake, alright? shouldn’t be too long til we get you warm.” once again, you just nod, knowing he can feel it with the side of your face pressed against his back.

as the horse starts forward at a decent pace, his instructions of holding on prove to be harder than ideal with your weakened grip. you don’t know how much time passes until the horse’s movement stops and the man’s voice, along with another, meets your ears.

you startle when the unfamiliar voice calls out. “joel! what took you so lon– what happened?”

“sorry, tommy.” you can feel the rumble of his voice while pressed against him, and turn your head to face the source of the other voice. “found ‘em leaning against a tree just a bit off the path. think they’ve got hypothermia.”

there’s another man on a horse, probably younger, but you can’t tell much else in the snow and the state of your mind. either way, you can’t help but read him as a danger. the man in front of you, joel, you assume, must have picked up on your fear behind him

“’s alright. that’s my brother, tommy. he’s here to help too, okay?” 

another nod from you, and a “damn” from tommy.

“let’s get going, then. we’ll stay in the lookout for tonight then get them back to jackson first thing in the morning. it’ll be dark soon.”

joel agrees, and with that, you set off. every so often, his voice brings you out of your daze long enough for you to nod your head against his back when he checks if you’re still awake. your sense of time is long gone; all you know when you arrive at the mentioned lookout is a vague sense of relief. 

“kid?” his voice rings out and you realize the motion of the horse has finally come to a stop. you do your best to sit up, hating the biting air that immediately hits your front now that it’s not kept warm by joel’s back. your hands stay resting absentmindedly on his shoulders in order to keep you from slipping off of the horse. “tommy’s gonna help you off, okay?” you let out a small hum of acknowledgement as tommy dismounts his horse and comes to stand beside you.

“here we go,” he gives you a small, encouraging smile as he lifts his arms up for you. “put your hands on my shoulders, and i’ll get you down safe ’n sound, alright?” it’s a bit of an awkward reach, and you begin to slip down before you have a proper grasp, but his hands are quick to secure themselves under your armpits, preventing you from falling and instead pulling you into his chest. your knees buckle the moment they hit the ground; tommy’s strong grip keeps you upright. “there you are, ’s alright. god, you’re shivering like a leaf in the wind. we’ll get you nice and warm now.” 

there’s a bit of a struggle getting inside, your legs practically refusing to hold your weight. an immense wave of relief washes through you when you collapse onto the couch they bring you to and you let your eyes shut in exhaustion.

“now don’t you fall asleep on us quite yet,” joel warns. “we gotta get you warm first. tommy, get some hot water going.” you force your eyes back open to see him crouching in front of you. “listen, uh. some of your clothes are a little wet from the snow, and we can’t have that.” he pauses at that, studying your face to catch any sort of reaction.

“okay,” you whisper, somehow coherent enough to still understand what he’s saying and know that he’s right.

“okay,” he repeats. “can i take these jackets off?” you nod. his grip is gentle when he pulls you up from your slouched position, allowing you to lean into him when he slips off the coat he gave you, then your own slightly damp jacket. you begin to shiver even harder, your thinning cotton shirt doing nothing to keep any cold at bay. “alright, alright,” he mumbles, half to himself as he pulls his thicker, dry coat back around you. then comes a blanket, taken from the couch and wrapped securely around your shoulders. he shifts you to rest against the back of the sofa.

that’s when he pauses, at a bit of a loss of what to do because your jeans, despite your thick boots, are soaked from the snow almost up to your knees. but there’s no way in hell he’d feel comfortable taking off your pants, much less how you’d feel. 

“i’m gonna have to cut your pants,” he concludes. “promise we’ll get you new ones in town, but you’ll never get warm like this.”

“’s okay,” you mumble. so he rummages in his pack until he finds a pair of scissors, doing his best to avoid touching your bare skin with his hands or cut you with the cold metal. it’s tricky business; the jeans stick fairly close to your skin, but he manages not to even nick you with the sharp edges. the moment you’re free from any damp clothing, he wraps another blanket securely around your legs so it won’t fall off. 

moments later, tommy reappears in your line of sight with exactly what joel asked for. he leans down, holding it out to you. with shaky hands, you grasp the cup, sighing in immediate relief at the warmth that spreads right into your fingers through your gloves.

“careful, now,” tommy advises. “it’s real hot, don’t burn your tongue.” you do your best to follow his instruction, weakly blowing at the hot water when you bring it close to your mouth. resisting the urge to down the whole thing, you grip it tighter and bring it to your chest, hoping to let some of the warmth permeate through other parts of your body other than your hands. it feels like a little piece of heaven when you feel the steam rising up to warm your chin, your lips, and the tip of your nose and the heat from the cup itself travel through your thin shirt and to the skin above your collarbone.

when you finally begin to sip on the warm water, it’s almost glorious; you can feel its warmth spread through your body. so once you discover it’s no longer too hot, you take long gulps and heave heavy sighs of relief. your trembling doesn’t disappear, but with the third cup, it certainly subsides.

this, and the far more relaxed expression on your face finally convinces joel that it’s safe to let you fall asleep—you’re halfway there anyways. tommy takes the empty cup from your hands before it can slip from your hold, and joel unravels your sleeping bag. at that point, you can no longer process the softly spoken words being exchanged by the brothers, but you’re vaguely aware of tommy’s arms tucking themselves under your shoulders and knees and pulling you off of the couch. then you’re being maneuvered into the sleeping bag that now lays across the surface of the couch, tommy setting you down while joel ensures that you stay properly wrapped up in the blankets. sleep claims you so quickly that you don’t hear the agreement between the two men to take turns keeping watch over you to periodically check your temperature and breathing.

joel wakes you in the morning, his gruff voice quickly recounting the events of the previous day when your jumbled state of mind after waking from such a deep sleep launches you into a panicked confusion. his explanation and comforting hands on your shoulders calm you in moments as the memories return, however vague they are due to the haze of your sickness.

“thank you,” you whisper as he helps you to sit up, his hands still gentle and supportive on your shoulders.

“course. like i said, we’ve got somewhere safe for you if you need. and at the very least, we’ve gotta get you some new pants and make sure you don’t get sick. were you travelin’ all alone?”

“not at first,” you explain, knowing he’s probably wondering about finding someone so young alone. “but now… yeah.” he sighs as if that’s the answer he expected.

“’m sorry,” he frowns. you just give a tight-lipped smile in response. “alright. we should get moving so we can get you to the town doctor. tommy’s gettin’ the horses ready.”

your eyebrows raise at his words. “town doctor?” you question. that puts a small smile on his lips that you don’t quite understand.

“yep. it’s a good place to be,” is all he offers in explanation.

“okay.” you begin untangling yourself from the blankets and sleeping bag that did the job of keeping you warm throughout the night. still covered by his coat, your upper half stays comfortable, but the feeling of your exposed calves hitting the cold air is unwelcome, not to mention the slightly embarrassing sight of the jagged edges of your jeans at such an awkward spot. 

“sorry ‘bout that,” he comments, “but we’ll keep your legs wrapped up with blankets for now and get you new jeans in town.” once you nod, he grabs a hold of one of the blankets he laid on top of you after you feel asleep, a rather small piece of fabric, but the right size to help you out. he wraps it around your left leg, using ropes from his supplies to gently secure the fabric, then repeating his actions for your other leg.

as he does so, he keeps his gaze focused on his task, but his gravelly voice meets your ears. “realized we never asked your name,” he phrases it like a statement, but the obvious question is there.

to be honest, you hadn’t even realized either, first, mind clouded by the hypothermia, and up until now too caught up in the oddness of your situation. one moment you’re all on your own and on the brink of death, the next you’re saved and seemingly on the way to what sounds like some sort of miraculous safe haven even from the vague glimpses of information you hear.

you state your name, hoping with all you can muster up that this isn’t some kind of cruel trick, and that the kindness the two men have shown you is as genuine as it’s proved to be thus far.

“well then,” he repeats your name back to you as he secures the last knot, still not looking up at you, “let’s get you home.”

those words nearly knock the air from your lungs. he throws them out like they don’t mean much, but in the most confusing way, because you’re sure he did it on purpose. you’re sure he does know that they mean a whole lot more than a casual tone and avoided eye-contact, but you suppose you can’t blame him. it’s often easier to pretend they don’t mean anything, certainly much more with people you don’t really know at all, people like you. and yet, you can’t help but think he said it to reassure you. to tell you that this place he’s talking about is one where you can find that thing everyone in this world has lost. as if it’s somewhere you already belong without having set foot in it yet. and you can’t tell the difference between hope and fear in that moment, so you shove it all away.

“sure.” you stand just after he does, grabbing your sleeping bag and beginning to roll it to the best of your ability while still weak. but he stops you, quickly taking over the task of clearing and packing up the last few things in the lookout after handing you a cup of warm water, not too hot. you finish it quickly, still more than grateful for any warmth that can be provided.

joel motions towards the door once he’s finished, and on still slightly wobbly legs, you walk up to him, stopping before he can lead you out.

“thank you, joel,” your voice is quiet, but sure when you say it.

“of course,” he assures, genuine in the affirmation.

“and tommy. tommy, too, of course,” you stutter, suddenly feeling awkward.

“sure thing.” he clears his throat, one his occupied hands almost moving up to rub the back of his neck. at that he turns, and you follow him out, back into the cold.

the shivery weather is not welcome by you, but in a properly warm coat and definitively out of the worst of your condition, it’s far more bearable. you feel bad for taking over joel’s coat, but he seems just fine in his jacket that’s clearly far warmer than your old, lousy excuse of a winter garment.

tommy and the horses are waiting there, just as joel said, and he smiles upon seeing you.

“good to see you up and alive, kid,” he grins with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

you answer his playfully reassuring attitude with a bashful smile of your own. “yeah, the alive part is definitely a plus,” you say in attempts of matching his tone. the way his grin grows tells you the joke landed, putting you at even more ease than before. unfortunately, it doesn’t make the way you formally introduce yourself to him any less awkward, but he seems glad to know your name. by your side, joel tightens one last strap on the horse before placing a careful hand on your shoulder.

“i think we’re good to go now. it’ll only be a few hours of riding,” he informs.

“sure,” you nod. pausing for a moment, you cast eyes down before speaking, albeit a bit timidly. “could you.. could you help me up again?”

you completely miss the soft look on his face at your request. “course i can, kiddo. i’ll get up first and help you from there, okay?” at your affirmative, he easily mounts the horse before holding a hand out to you. “just put your foot here, grab my hand, and i’ll do all the work, alright?” he moves his leg away from the stirrup so that you can use it yourself, his grip on your hand steady the moment you place it in his palm. gratefully, you follow his instructions, doing your best to use your own strength in tandem with joel to ease the effort he has to put forth to help you up. as you swing your leg over the horse, he guides your hand to hold onto his shoulder for you to grip far easier than his hand and succeeds in getting you into the saddle behind him. with that, you’re off, traveling somewhere that you somehow dare to hope is the sort of paradise joel and tommy have described.

,

part two here !!

#joel miller #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller #tommy miller #father figure joel #joel miller tlou #tlou show #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller comfort #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fluff #tlou joel #joel miller father figure #the last of us #tommy miller father figure #tommy tlou #tommy miller tlou

[yeollie-plz]

Cave

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x GN! Reader (ft. Platonic! Tommy Miller)

Synopsis: Tommy is trying to help you to get together with Joel but Joel thinks you and Tommy are secretly dating.

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: swearing, Y/N insert, anger, jealousy, sadness, mentions of punching/aggression, kissing, bar settings

Gif credits to owners!

Tommy had noticed pretty quickly that you had a bit of a crush on Joel. You worked in the diner that Joel, Sarah, and Tommy frequented and had gotten to know them a bit. Sarah invited you to her birthday last year and the rest was history.

From day one you had found Joel attractive. He was so ruggedly handsome, a great father, and not to mention good with his hands. Oh, the things he could do with his hands...

You tried not to think about that too much, Joel was your friend and your customer! You needed to be professional! But Tommy was not going to have any of that bullshit. Tommy was convinced he could get you two together.

There was no one Tommy knew better than Joel. He knew when Joel was angry. He knew when Joel was sad. And he sure as hell knew when Joel liked someone.

Although, Tommy didn't know you as well as his brother, he could tell you felt the same. I mean it was kind of obvious when you would stutter and stumble whenever you saw him and stare at him endlessly.

He tried to convince Joel to ask you out but Joel kept his guard up. He denied that he liked you and said he needed to focus on Sarah and not dating. Tommy just rolled his eyes. He tried again for a few weeks after that but Joel wouldn't budge.

So Tommy waved his white flag in surrender (it was actually a pair of his tighty-whities he took off drunk one night) and gave up.

That didn't last long because a month later he was confronting you about your oh so obvious crush.

You tried to deny it, laughing him off. But Tommy saw right through it. All it took was him staring at you in disbelief and you caved, telling him everything.

"Okay fine, yes, I like your brother. Way more than I should." You almost yelled like it was a revelation even to yourself.

"I knew it! Wish that idiot would've listened to me and asked you out."

"He wants to ask me out?" Your head snapped up to read his eyes.

"Yes, but he's too in his own head about it, stubborn bastard."

You nodded, unsure of how to respond.

"Alright I'm gonna help you two love birds get together."

"Really? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"He'll thank me eventually..." Tommy trailed off a bit, he seemed like he was debating meddling in his brother's love life or not. He shook his head, laughing at himself.

"He will thank me, operation make Joel cave is a go!"

Monday:

On Monday you came to the house to take Sarah to school. You had done this a few times but Tommy knew that if you showed even more interest in the most important person in Joel's life, gold star.

So you knocked on the Miller's door bright and early. There was a noise of something heavy falling and shuffling towards the door.

"Shit, Tommy I told you to just come in." He finally met your eyes. "Oh, Y/N what are you doing here so early?"

"Well, I have a meeting near Sarah's school and I figured maybe we could have a nice drive together. Maybe get her some breakfast on the way?"

He laughed, "She probably already started cooking but I'm sure she'd love a smoothie or somethin'. You're a sweetheart for thinkin' of her."

"Are you kidding? I love that kid! Plus gives me an excuse to come bother you."

Joel's heart warmed when you said you loved Sarah.

He laughed and finally let you through the doorway and into the house. You followed him into the kitchen where Sarah was trying to make herself some breakfast.

"Why do we never have pancake mix?" She was rustling through a cabinet.

"Don't know, but Y/N said she'd get you something if you wanted."

Sarah turned around at the mention of your name. Eyes widening in excitement when she saw you.

"Y/N!" Sarah ran to hug you. You caught her in your arms and held her tight.

When she finally released you, you spoke, "Thought I could take you to school today, kid?"

She nodded quickly saying something about getting her bag and ran up the stairs. Joel laughed from his seat at the table.

Her footsteps echoed through the house as she paraded down the stairs, right as the front door opened. Tommy loudly announced his presence. The two Miller’s found you and Joel in the kitchen.

"This one almost ran me over coming down the stairs. Y/N! Good morning!" He sent a wink your way, acting like he didn't know you were going to be here.

The wink didn't go unnoticed by Joel.

Sarah grabbed your hand, gaining your attention.

"Y/N, if we hurry we can get some pancakes at the diner before school."

You smiled at her, "Good idea! Let's go!" Waving at the boys as Sarah practically dragged you out the door.

Tuesday:

You were at work when the Miller's came in. You greeted them and sat them down, giving them menus even though they would probably order their usual. You were behind the counter when Tommy came up to you.

"So he can't stop talking about how you took Sarah to school. Between both of them you are just about all we talk about actually."

You hummed in response, concentrating on pouring Joel's coffee.

"I convinced him to come here tonight. The more he sees you, the more he wants you. That's the theory at least."

"I'm starting to think you are more invested in this than me."

"No way! I just want to see my brother happy!"

"Uh huh." You laughed at him, gaining a laugh back.

Joel stared at you two, since when did you become so close?

The rest of the night went smoothly, everyone enjoyed their meals. You had given them the check and they were about to leave when Tommy stopped you.

"So Y/N, I have four tickets to the movies this Saturday at four and thought you'd wanna join us."

"Y/N please come!" Sarah pleaded.

"Okay, okay I'll come, but only 'cause you want me to." You said while ruffling Sarah's hair.

Thursday:

Tommy called you after your shift on Thursday. Joel and him were going out. He told you where they would be, when, and said to dress pretty. So here you were standing outside a bar in a black slimming outfit that didn't leave much to the imagination, trying to work up your courage to go inside.

Tommy's scheming was starting the stress you out a bit. No matter how much you liked Joel, this was almost like lying to him and that didn't feel right.

Just as you were about to say fuck it and go home, Tommy walked out the door.

"Y/N! There you are! Joel's getting bored in there and wants to go home."

"Tommy, I just don't know about this."

"It can't be the outfit, you look great Y/N."

"Not the outfit, this whole plan. I feel like I'd be better off just waiting for him to be ready."

"Y/N, no. How long have you had to wait already?"

"Over a year..."

"See! What's a few days of a little teasing gonna hurt? Trust me."

"Okay." You whispered.

"Lets get you inside." Tommy opened the door for you and your eyes immediately fell on Joel.

Tommy patted your shoulder telling you he'd be at the bar. You nodded.

Joel’s stomach twisted at Tommy's touch.

After a deep breath, you made your way over to Joel.

"Hi." You muttered.

"Hi, you look amazing."

"Thanks." Still not having your full confidence.

Joel and you stayed silent for a bit, before Tommy made his way over. He handed you a drink.

Joel sighed, Tommy bought you a drink not him.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Joel, doesn't Y/N look really good tonight?"

Joel nodded. Tommy didn't seem happy with answer and pressed Joel further.

"Well, I think Y/N looks absolutely stunning."

"I'm sure you do." Joel muttered, getting up from his chair aggressively. The leg of it scraping aggressively against the floor, causing you to wince.

The fire that was originally in Joel's eyes cooled a bit when he noticed your reaction. But he was too clouded by the jealousy that he still walked away. Joel paid his tab and left.

"So that didn't work exactly as planned." Tommy said.

"Nope, this is exactly why I didn't want to go through with the plan anymore. I'm sorry Tommy, but I'd rather be pining after Joel than lose him completely." With that you left the bar.

Saturday:

Saturday rolled around but you were no longer feeling up to the movie. You hoped the Miller's had fun but you were prepared to stay home in your pjs and sulk.

Four came and went. You were fully wrapped up in your TV show (and in your blanket) when the doorbell rang. You begrudgingly made your way to the door, unlocking and opening it.

You were met with a very out of breath Joel. He held up a finger as a sign to give him a minute.

When he finally caught his breath he spoke, "I just punched my brother."

You were shocked, why was Joel punching Tommy?

"Wh-why? What happened?"

"I don't really know. He just mentioned you and I punched him."

You gave him a minute to collect his thoughts, motioning him inside. You guided him to the couch and grabbed him a glass of water.

He took a few sips and spoke again, "Are you and Tommy dating?"

Okay, you were shocked again.

"No. No, what made you think that?"

"It just seemed you two had gotten closer recently and you're so pretty and smart and likeable so I figured."

You laughed, hard and loud and for a long time at this.

"You're laughing..."

"I'm laughing because...because Tommy was trying to help me get with you."

"With me?"

"With you dummy! Hanging out with Sarah, trying to get me to the movies with you, making me wear that outfit to the bar."

"I liked that outfit..."

"Not the point! The point is, I like you! And I have for a while now."

"Me too..." He kept just letting his sentences trail off.

"So why didn't you do anything about it?"

"Didn't think I was ready. Didn't think Sarah was ready. But I've decided I'd rather try then see you with anyone else, especially my brother."

You laughed.

"So, you gonna finally kiss me, Miller?"

"You bet your ass I'm gonna."

He pulled you into a deep kiss, letting you go a few seconds later. He rested his forehead on yours.

"You should apologize to Tommy."

He sighed, "I should... maybe thank him too."

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #last of us #the last of us #last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #pedro pascal angst #tommy miller #tommy miller fluff #platonic tommy miller #sarah miller #platonic sarah miller

[ameagrice]

GENESIS

CHAPTER ONE—INTRODUCTION

summary: beginnings are never easy. you contemplate your life from start to finish, and try your best to make sense of it all.

Remembering the beginning, would always hurt.

“Hey—come on, kid, get away from my front door.”

Your ears rang loudly, almost too loud to hear the woman’s voice.

Something nudged your leg. “Come on, move it. Now.”

Remembering the days spent running the length of the training building.

Sweat pouring down your back. Laughter, alongside friends.

Remember. Remember. Remember. It seemed all you were ever able to do.

And a time when it all felt it was slipping through your fingers despite all your best efforts.

“Come on!” You cried. His coat was cold under your grip. “Get up! Joel, get up!”

Desperation was a killer, and a brutal one at that. A scream was building its way up your throat. Your throat pinched with the shrill desperation in your words. Your breath came out raggedly, looking down at the man you looked to for guidance.

“What do I do?” A cry tore from your chest. “Joel, what the fuck do I do?!” You screamed. “Where’s Tess?!”

Joel remained still, and footsteps from above terrified you into shifting. Grabbing at the rusted screwdriver off the floor, you got to your feet, fear gripping you around the shoulders.

A creak at the top of the staircase, and you could scarcely breathe, let alone will your feet to run.

A black boot made its way into your vision, landing quietly on the top step, and you bolted.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Sometimes, laying in bed, you would think back on moments that seemed so insignificant, that later actually led to something so wonderful you could not comprehend how you got so lucky.

Like a dreamy day in Jackson.

“Feet off the couch.” Tess swiped them off the armrest. You let them fall, your mouth quirking up. You watched Tess walk away into the kitchen down the hall, and quickly put them back up.

“Joel’ll be home soon,” she said. You turned your eyes to the ceiling, counting the cracks. “You wanna start on the chores?”

“Not particularly.” Your eyes followed a crack in the plaster, seeing how far it went. Tess’s unusual silence quirked your wonder, and you raised your head.

And was greeted to the sight of a dirty cup, and it’s contents of dirty dish water dangling over your head. There Tess stood, an eyebrow raised.

“Alright! I’m going. Can’t a girl get five minutes of peace?”

“Five minutes?” She scoffed. “You’ve lay there all day!”

“You’d complain if I was out doing drugs,” you rolled your eyes, playfully, and walked over to the sink, eyeing the dishes from this morning’s breakfast. Joel’s leftover tea had stained the water a murky brown.

A tea towel hit you in the head, and you laughed. “You—dishes, now.”

The rest of the chores continued in silence, a comfortable one. It wasn’t very often that you and Tess actually had any time to spend together these days. Between her newfound love of odd-jobs around the town and a favouritism for the Tipsy Bison, it had been difficult to sit and talk to her for long. Not that you’d sat around doing nothing the last few weeks; Joel had been insistent on you attending the small school at least twice a week, if not for learning then for some proper company. Since then, all day every day you strolled the town with new friends, only heading back home when the streetlights came on (per Joel’s ask).

The quiet in the house allowed the sound of footsteps on the porch to grow closer, a certain heaviness that only came with Joel’s strides. Keys jingled, and the front door opened, letting in the cooling, end-of-September air. Tess threw him a casual ‘hey’ from her spot in the living room.

“Got something to tell you,” he said, referencing Tess. Thankfully, he sounded…relieved?

“‘S it good or bad? Don’t ruin the mood, Texas.”

He chuckled. “It’s good. Hey, kiddo. Thought you’d be out today?”

Kiddo. You’d never had a proper nickname before. The fact that Joel stuck by it and used it continuously…well, it made you feel warm.

“I was gonna,” you shrugged. “Just kind of wanted to relax today.”

At the beginning, you’d been almost timid with Joel, unsure of how he would take things you said or did. Tess was easier to get along with, and you wanted to say more caring, too. Joel protected you when he had to, when he had no choice—during your trek out of the Boston Quarantine Zone, ambushed by clickers, and the time you’d barely gotten away from David. At one time, you felt perhaps he felt he had an obligation to you for Tess. Tess cared for you because she wanted to; maybe not in the way you needed at the time, but in a way you appreciated—bandaging your cuts when you got hurt, halving her food for you during your travels across the country during a particularly difficult winter.

Despite everything bad that had happened since then, the very start, you were grateful. Grateful for this house beginning to turn into a home. Grateful for the sacrifices both Joel and Tess had made.

You finish the dishes, and find your place under the window in the great armchair, under the patch of sun. In the hallway, Tess dusts the staircase banister, humming under her breath. Joel walks around upstairs. Everything is calm.

You almost itch for adventure. The cogs of your body scream at you to keep going. It’ll take some time to rewire them, to teach your brain that this is safe. Maybe you’ll never sit still again. Perhaps this is who are you and will always be.

The beginning was not easy. And let’s be real; when is it ever? When asked to explain it all years later, and when you finally came to put your past to paper in an old, yellow diary, you began with the story of a boy forever aged fourteen, of two young teenagers scaling the walls of their home, and the night that kickstarted it all.

—

CHAPTER 2

#Joel miller #joel miller x platonic!reader #tess servopoulos #Tess servopolous x platonic reader #the last of us #the last of us x reader #tlou #tlou x reader #reader insert #the last of us series #hbo #Joel miller x reader #Tommy miller #Tommy miller x reader

[rrickgrrimes8]

Your Bear Part II

summary: you are found (part I)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x niece!reader

warnings: angst, reunion, violence, infected, happy ending :))

not sure if i like this as much as the first part but i hope yall do. i just want to thank you all for the response to my past few fics (especially your bear). its been unreal. i stopped writing for a while and these were my first ones back so this was an insane response to it! thank you so much for your love and appreciation it really does mean a lot!

also! i tagged basically everybody who left a comment asking for part 2 - sorry if thats annoying idk ive never done a taglist before. thanks for the comments tho :) 

masterlist

request guidelines (new)

requests are open

word count: 2.3k

22 Years Ago...

The world around you screamed for help. People ran around, skin on fire, missing massive chunks.

You wailed as they passed, hands tightened around your ears. You just wanted to find help. You wanted to save Sarah. This wasn’t what you expected.

“D-ad,” You cried, hiccupping, “D-addy!” You missed his touch. You missed his voice and his face. His laugh. You just wanted your daddy.

But which way had you come from?

You stood, idle, in an alley way you didn’t recognize, a man lay a few feet beside you. Blood seeped from his neck, running to kiss the tips of your shoes.

He twitched.

Your breath caught in your throat, the hair on your neck stood high. “D-daddy,” You whimpered, quieter than before, “Please.”

He looked at you now. His face grotesque, the shape of jagged teeth marked his greyish skin. White, stringy tendrils extended out of his mouth as he crawled to you – his legs being left behind as he did.

You screamed when his nails scratched against your shoe. In the panic, your bear fell from your grasp, landing in the bloodbath.

You tried backing up from the monster, but his hand stopped you. His claws captured your ankle.

You didn’t realise you were falling until your back hit the wet ground. You let out a shriek as he trailed up your body. “P-please,” You sobbed, “D-ad! D-addy!”

The creature didn’t even flinch. He opened his jaws further, searching for your small neck, ready to mark you just as he had been.

But a shot sounded off and his weight settled on your petite body.

A strong force tugged him off you, the same force pulling you into their arms. You wailed, fighting against the stranger’s grip.

“It’s okay, sweetgirl, you’re okay,” She told you, rushing you away from the scene, “You’re going to be okay; I promise.”

x

You didn’t know what to make of Jackson. It was nice, you supposed. Weird though. It felt like what you imagined before felt like. Not that you remembered much. You remembered how loud cars were, how the TV remote worked, how to strum a guitar.

You remembered your sisters voice, her hair, how smart she sounded even if you didn’t understand a word.

You wished you remembered your dad. He was a blur to you. Like you had missed a chapter of a book and now a new character had no face. You remembered his laugh though. It was sweet, slow. Like a lullaby. You recalled being held to his chest and feeling the vibrations.

You wished you remembered your dad. 

Sarah had settled in quickly, at least that’s what you thought. She was happy to be around people other than her mom (you tried not to internalise it all that much).

In the week since you arrived Sarah had grown attached to the strangers that took you under their wing. You still weren’t so sure. But when Sarah made grabby hands to the older man and all she got was a dejected smile in response a part of you hurt. You didn’t understand why.

They’d kept their distance or rather he had. Ellie came round every day. She loved Sarah. She loved you, even if, like Joel, you were a little rough around the edges.

But for a reason unbeknownst to you Joel couldn’t be in a room with you for longer than five minutes. You didn’t let it bother you too much. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to make trouble and get the pair of you kicked out or worse separated. 

Ellie had come to you earlier that day, smile wide, cheeks rosy. She had a glint in her eyes, a plan. One you really didn’t want to know about nor be a part of.

Excitedly, she told you about the couple who lived across from her and Joel - his brother. Tommy and Maria and the somewhat new addition of Lily, their little girl. Ellie had told them about you - although missing out some of the major minor details. They agreed to have you over she had said. And despite the age difference between Lily and Sarah the older girl was excited to meet her.

So, there you stood, Sarah shielded from the cold into your chest. You raised your hand awkwardly, knocking a little harder than you expected.

A woman opened the door. She was beautiful, smiley, friendly. You couldn’t tell if that was a façade or not. That made the nerves in your stomach stiffen. “C’mon in, sweetheart,” Maria ushered you inside after she confirmed it was you.

You forced a smile for her, “Nice place.”

Maria nodded, looking around the room proudly, “Thank you.” She urged you to take a seat, letting you know her husband, Tommy, was just dressing Lily.

“So, you’re younger than I thought you would be,” She confessed, “Not to be rude or anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, sitting opposite her, Sarah making a home on your lap, “I’m 27.”

“Wow,” She smiled, “And what about her?”

You stroked the top of Sarah’s head, where her hair had slightly begun to grow, “Couple weeks now.”

Maria shifted ever so slightly in her seat, unspoken sympathy in her eyes, “And the father?” You stilled, escaping her gaze you looked towards the coffee table, taking inventory of the odd books they had. “I’m sorry,” She spoke quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” You cleared your throat sheepishly, “There isn’t... her dad did what he had to.” You still remembered his screams.

“I’m sorry,” Maria frowned, hands soothing over her jeans, wishing Tommy would appear to aid the situation.

“Don’t be,” You said earnestly, “He got us here, right? One way or another...” Maria wasn’t sure you really meant that. The lost look in your eyes told her what she needed to know. As did your shaking knee. You’d give anything to have him back. She bit her lip, somewhat guessing the rest.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” A males voice cut through the tension, “Wouldn’t stop squirming for the life of me.”

Maria chuckled opening her arms to grab Lily, introducing you as she did. He blanched hearing that name. He near screamed seeing that face - your face but so much different, so much more mature.

Tommy blinked a few times, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. He whispered your name carefully, as if you were a wild animal, prone for violence.

Maria gave him an odd look, moving Lily over to you and Sarah. “And this is our sweetheart, Lily,” She told you as Lily began fussing relentlessly in her arms, desperate to touch the baby.

“Baby,” She cooed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” You mused, croakily, inching closer to the pair, “This is Sarah, Lily.”

Tommy wanted to throw up. He felt it dancing up his throat, teasing his uncertainty. He felt stuck. He truthfully didn’t know what to do or what to say. Should he straight out ask you? You didn’t seem to recognise him though. Maybe it was a clone? A doppelgänger? Should he run over to Joel’s for safety away from this confusion? 

Joel.

Did Joel know? He had to know. He needed to know.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” Maria called to him. He choked a little, eyes trailing over to the plaque that watched over their new life. The plaque he knew had no place for your name. He knew it. You were here.

Maria followed his gaze, a weird feeling in her chest as she saw her husband so unlike himself. She read Joel’s daughter’s name. Sarah. Was he freaked out because they shared the same name?

She gulped - it wasn’t just the baby whose name was shared but yours too it seemed. You couldn’t be, right? No- You died. Joel was so sure you died and despite all Tommy had told her, all the hope he had for you, she always found herself on Joel’s side. Funny that. Any other situation she would’ve made a point to oppose the eldest Miller.

But now... You were just five. You couldn’t have survived on your own. You wouldn’t have had a life in this world.

But again, hadn’t you said you were 27?

“Go,” She told him, firmly, “Make sure.” Tommy nodded, failing to hide his tears as you watched in confusion and darted out of the room with a sense of urgency that unsettled your stomach.

“Is everything okay?”

Maria’s attention snapped back to you, “Fine... everything’s fine.”

A disconcerting feeling swam under your skin and a sudden resolve to flee hit you. “I- We should probably go,” You mumbled, bringing Sarah to your chest once more.

“Wait, please,” She attempted, “Just wait.”

You shook your head, apologising softly before rushing out of the house. You caught eyes with two men across the road - Joel and Tommy. They stood on his porch, seemingly arguing with each other.

You spotted Ellie watching through the window, a guilty look on her face - what had she done?

The brothers stared at you as you left the home. Their eyes didn’t leave you for a second. Tommy called your name, desperately but when he moved to catch up with you, Joel pulled him back.

He clenched his jaw as you rushed back to your home, out of sight. “She was my niece, Joel,” He scowled, “My fuckin’ family too.”

Joel shook his head, shaking off the shame Tommy was trying to force on him.

“You don’t get to keep this kind of thing from me,” He yelled, “You- You are unbelievable, Joel.”

“Unbelievable?” He mocked, “Is it so unbelievable that I didn’t want to advertise to the whole goddamn town that she was my daughter when, hell, I don’t even know if she really is!”

“Bullshit,” Tommy spat, “You’re not stupid. You knew. Of course, you fucking knew. You knew like how I knew. One look. That’s all it woulda took you. No… you knew. You were just too scared - like always. And that, your selfishness, takes us all down with you.”

“Fuck you,” He grunted, storming back inside.

“Christ,” Tommy mumbled, turning back to his own home. 

You had a baby.

You were here, alive.

x

You steered clear from the group for a little while afterwards. The whole situation made you heart clench. It felt like a game that you didn’t know the rules of, but they did. All of them did and they were careful not to reveal anything. But you wanted to know - you needed to.

You knew it involved Joel or at least you felt like it had to. The way he looked at you when you first met. The way he spoke. The way he shook. It had to be him. He had to be the answer.

You gave up on your attempts to avoid them when you came to that realisation.

The same realisation that brought you here, at his front door in the middle of the night. You shyly knocked a few times - no response. You repeated the action with a little more force, a little too much. The door creaked open on the contact, but no one came to greet you.

You sucked in a harsh breath as you debated entering. The door was open right? Fair game? Silently you forced yourself to step inside.

Their home was dark - one lamp lighting a whole room. You frowned looking over to it. Someone had to be here, right? Where else would they be so late?

And then you saw him. Joel. The contradictory man. He was asleep. His body was sprawled all over the couch, an empty bottle of God knows what lay beside him as did what looked like... a bear?

Shakily, you took a step forward, his name dying in your throat as you saw the bear in a better light.

It was... yours.

Why would Joel have your bear? The bear that when you were a child was essentially an extension of you. The bear that chased away all the bad dreams. The bear that your dad had gotten you - your dad.

You gulped - the bear you hadn’t seen since the night you lost everything. Since the night you almost lost your life.

Joel shifted in his sleep, pulling the bear close to his chest, careful of its head as if it was a baby. Your eyes burned. A gasp escaped your lips. You could read the chapter now. You can see that character’s face - your fathers face.

Different but the same.

“D-dad,” You whispered before you could stop yourself and backed away.

Your back met the door, slamming it shut. The man jolted awake, alarmed eyes frantically searching the room before landing on you. They grew small, weaker, like he wasn’t all the way there.

Joel watched you closely, taking note of your falling tears, he spoke your name. You choked on a sob, hand clasping over your mouth. “Baby,” He shot up before he had a moment to think and approached you.

You didn’t flinch away, like he expected. You didn’t stop crying either. You studied him now. The wrinkles. The scars. The grey hairs. The same look in his eyes.

“How long have you known?”

He flinched at that. Your voice so familiar, so broken. “Since we met,” He didn’t have to try too hard to understand what you were getting at. He felt shameful, though. This shouldn’t have been the way, right? This felt too casual, too unknown.

You wanted to ask more, yell at him. Beg him to tell you why it wasn’t the first thing that he told you. But you didn’t. Instead you put one foot in front of the other, until you were mere inches from him. “Dad,” You shuddered.

He hadn’t realised how much he missed being called that, how much he missed being your dad.

“Babygirl,” He took your face in his hands, “My baby grown up.” He watched you closely, tears welling up, “I’m so sorry, babygirl. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, slamming yourself into his chest, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Oh, baby,” Joel wrapped his arms around you, hand cradling the back of your head.

“With me, babygirl,” He smiled for moment before letting it fall, “Don’t go away again, babygirl, never go away again.”

You smiled into his chest, whimpering softly, “I won’t, dad, I promise.” 

x

@meli-blacky @zaweashtonslover @3zae-zae3 @bbciwp @cloudroomblog @white-wolf-buckaroo​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @myboyfriendisbigfoot​ @mell-bell​ @hummusxx​ @sleepdeprived-barelyalive​ @dilfsaremyfavourite​ @specialagentmonkey​ @slutforstark @lizlil​ @unsaiduglywords​ @ellaprime7​ @aphrcdites​ @zynbsblog​ @imonmykneessir​ @mandowhatnow​ @tomorrowseverything @livelovemusic0996 @icarusthefoolish​ @b-bloop @leemirna​ @hexaecana​ @littleshadow17​ @sgt-morgan​ @adorreeabbie @abbiesxox​ @leviackrmnss​ @eternallyvenus​ @hai-kbai​ @daydreamerblues​ @abbyrxx12-blog @montenegroisr​ @chxosunbound​ @shqwqrma​ @littlemissporter @wonwoosthetic @riri53 @softsakusas​ @prettysbliss​ @katiemars @kik51199 @stupidthoughtsinwriting​ @ellele19 @newavenger @19891213​ @dgraysonss​

#joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller x daughter!reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x niece!reader #ellie williams x platonic!reader #the last of us imagine #joel miller x platonic!reader

[heartpascal]

the sun was collapsing

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: joel thought you moving to a college halfway across the country would be the worst thing to happen to his family

▹— a/n: first off. yes this is me projecting. second, this is a miller!kid fic HOWEVER. it is not specified whether reader is adopted or biological etc + there is no reference to looks/resemblance! edit upon finishing: this took a slightly different direction than i originally meant but erm. yeah. let me know if y’all want any more of this!

▹— warnings: reference to a suicide attempt / suicidal thoughts and feelings — it’s the last section of the fic, and if you wish to avoid it stop reading at “You knew that you would never get used to the sound of a gun being fired.”, i will also put *** at the start of it (joel’s, but still, be cautious), negative feelings about going to college, miller!reader (adopted/bio unspecified), regretting leaving home, outbreak day, angst!!, brief use of they/them pronouns

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop (pedro)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

There had been a pit festering in the depths of your chest since the moment you had finished all of your exams. One which, no matter how many reassurances were provided, refused to go away, refused to allow you a moment of peace, of rest.

Strangely, it had only gotten worse the moment you had received your results, since you had received your acceptance letter, since your place at the college of your dreams was confirmed. As if all your hard work finally paying off was a bad thing, something to dread.

At first, you blamed it on the way Sarah had cried and held on to you for the way your chest caved in on itself. It felt reasonable to assume that your little sister could be the reason for such overwhelming trepidation about your impending departure. After all, you had always worried about her, had always looked out for her as best as you could, especially with everything that had happened with her mother.

When that didn’t explain away the uneasiness in your chest cavity, you shifted the blame to your father. Your dad, who you had looked after for what felt like the entirety of your life, who you had looked to in the best and worst times of your life. The very man who did his best to quell his own fear and worry about your move, just to reassure you, to encourage you.

Joel Miller was a self-made man, who raised two kids, a brother, and a business all in one short lifetime. He was a man who had struggled at practically every turn, and if this college was what would make you happy, was what would give you the head start that he had never received, he would welcome it.

You knew, really, that he would be fine. Your dad had raised you just fine, and he could handle your little sister without you, you were sure. For a brief moment, you had blamed that on the sense of foreboding within you; the idea that they didn’t need you. It didn’t take long for you to realise that they did, and that they would be glad to have you from miles away, rather than not at all.

So, you were at a loss.

It should have been an exciting time, something that you were looking forward to, rather than dreading. This was the start of the rest of your life, the reward for all of your hours spent working for the grades you had received, for the anxiety and stress of school. It was supposed to be a good thing. You couldn’t understand why your chest didn’t seem to get that memo.

The feeling persisted the entirety of the time that led up to your move, outlasting each brief flash of any other emotion. It continued the whole roadtrip up to the college, across multiple state borders, despite the multitude of karaoke covers that Sarah initiated.

Even when Joel and Tommy were taking your boxes up to your dorm room, you could feel it. Hell, when Sarah helped you start unpacking said boxes, it continued.

It was only when you were waving the three of them off, tears blurring the shrinking truck, that you realised just what was responsible for the feeling that had been bugging you for months.

You didn’t want to leave home.

Moreover, you didn’t want to grow up. You didn’t want to be alone.

The realisation was almost enough for you to call your dad, to beg him to come back, to pick you up and return you back home. Almost. Instead, you found yourself walking numbly back up to your dorm room, taking more than one wrong turn in the hallways which bled into one, and sitting down on the mattress which wasn’t your own.

For the next week, you breezed by, drifting along your timetable in some kind of half-there state. It was like you couldn’t fully comprehend that you were on your own.

You phoned Sarah on the fifth day, twisting the wire around your fingertip nervously, as if your little sister would ever ignore your calls. She answered on the second ring — unsurprisingly, given that was about how long it always took for her to answer the phone — and she greeted you with the most joyful call of your name you’d heard for a while.

“Sarah,” You responded fondly, tears immediately welling up in your eyes as you listened to her barrage of questions about your first week at college. “Slow down, Sarah, slow down!” You interrupted when her questions became intelligible over the spotty phone line.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sarah said, not sounding sorry at all. “I miss you. I wanna know everything.” She finished, which you already knew she would. Sarah was a lot like you in that way, curious and determined. You knew she was already thinking of what college she wanted to go to, and just how to get there. If she wasn’t swept up by playing soccer, neglecting her studies, that was.

Regardless, you smiled, just glad to hear her voice. “I know, I miss you, too. Is dad home yet?” You asked, unsurprised by her responding no, considering Joel Miller was renowned for his inability to stay on time, his tendency to overwork himself unrelenting. “Okay, well, you’ll tell him everything, right?”

“‘Course I will,” Sarah responded, sounding thrilled to get to relay such interesting information. She’d no doubt be sharing it with Tommy, first thing in the morning, too. “Now tell me!”

“Okay, okay.” You laughed, before telling her as much as you could about what you recalled of your experience so far. Some of it was embellished, of course, mostly for Sarah’s benefit, though also slightly for your father’s. You already knew he’d be worrying himself sick over you.

That phone call was the only time the pit in your chest lessened, the whole time you’d been at college. As if the smallest dose of home was having a real effect. It only made you miss the house back in Texas all the more.

You felt worse afterwards, somehow. As if the call had been a harsh and unneeded reminder of the distance between you and your family. It had barely been over a week by now since you had left home, and you worried that you would never get used to being so far away. How could it possibly get better? How could you ever settle in when the people you love were so far?

The days afterwards were spent mulling over all of your life choices, spending your time soaking in all the regrets you were beginning to have. Why did you work so hard to get into this college? You were miserable. Not to mention all of the experiences you had missed out on in your determination to get here.

Luckily for you, you finally made your first friend.

He had sat next to you in one of your classes, and finally, after three classes of sitting in silence, the two of you had struck up a conversation.

Strangely enough, the two of you bonded over missing home. He was all the way from Nevada, and shared your debilitating homesickness. He talked a lot about his mother, and his older sister, and it was nice to have somebody to share that with.

Things were starting to look up. Life was a lot easier when you had a friend to share it with.

But all the talking about feeling homesick didn’t actually get rid of the feeling. Your heart practically ached each time you went home to your dorm room, where you were alone, where there was no little sister to come and bug you about dinner, or about dad getting home.

You called again, on the three week mark.

Much to your annoyance and happiness, your uncle Tommy answered the phone.

“Hey, uncle Tommy. How’re you doing?” You asked, the smile obvious in your voice. Even to your ears, it was the happiest you’d sounded since speaking to Sarah, a little over two weeks prior.

“Well, if it ain’t our little ol’ Nerd Miller.” Tommy greeted over the phone, that familiar teasing tone making you roll your eyes. “I’m doin’ mighty fine, kiddo. How’re you gettin’ on?” He asked, tone taking on a more soft note, which had your chest aching all over again.

Still, you shook your head and tried your best to seem as happy as possible, for his sake. “Oh, you know, just learning the ways of the world, n’ all. Where’s dad?” You questioned, not wanting to be rude, but also desperate to speak to the man who had raised you, and who had also missed your calls since you’d been gone.

“He’s out buyin’ some last minute supplies for tomorrow’s job. Keeping himself busy, I’d say.” Tommy replied, before you heard him calling out Sarah’s name, away from the phone. “Hang on, now, Sarah wants to speak to you.”

You wait, listening to the shuffling of the phone switching hands from across the country, endeared by your sister scolding your uncle for taking so long to tell her it was you. They argued for a moment longer, their joking tones familiar, but sounding vaguely different from across the phone line.

Finally, Sarah greeted you. “Hey, little sister! How are you getting on, over there? Tommy causing you trouble?” You asked in return, hearing him yell, some distance away, straining to be heard across the phone. It sent you and Sarah into giggles, and she had to take a breath before she could respond.

“As always. So, have you been to any parties, yet?” She asked, always insisting that you were the Miller child who caused the most trouble. You vaguely heard Tommy yell out a ‘sure hope not’ over the phone. Sarah shushed him, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“No, Sarah, no partying for me! I’ve gotta work hard, make this whole trip worth it.” You said, and though your tone was teasing, your words were feeling more true by the second. You had seen plenty of fliers advertising parties all across campus, even been handed a few as you exited classrooms, but you were uninterested. Your new friend had suggested you go to one, just yesterday evening, but you had declined. You were pretty sure that underaged drinking wasn’t the right way to cure your homesickness.

“You’re so boring. Dad’ll be thrilled.” Sarah laughed, the sound crackling over the line, and you smiled. There was no doubt in your mind that Joel would be relieved about your lacking party life, as much as he said he encouraged you getting out and living. Hell, the whole reason he hadn’t called you was so that you didn’t feel suffocated by him, so that you could live your life without feeling pressure from your old man. “Made any new friends?”

You hesitated, for some reason. “Uh, yeah! There’s this guy in my—”

“A guy?” Sarah interrupted, immediately. And there it was! The very reason for your hesitation. You heard a struggle over the phone, and Sarah was sounding more amused as time passed. “What’s his name? Are you dating?”

“Okay, enough of that!” Tommy said, and there was more shuffling as he presumably snatched the phone off of Sarah. You could hear her complaining through breaks in her laughter, but Tommy was refusing to hand back the phone. “Your old man does not need this one passin’ along details of your dating life, kiddo.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “There is no dating life, uncle Tommy. He’s just my friend.” You responded, though your uncle sounded unconvinced. “Anyway, enough about him. About dad’s birthday, next week—”

It was Tommy who cut you off this time, shifting the phone in his hand. “Woah! Don’t you go worrying about that, now. Me and Sarah have got it covered, don’t we, kiddo?” You heard Sarah yelling agreements, though you doubted she even knew what you were talking about.

“Actually, I was thinking about coming home for it. Surprising dad, you know.” You admitted, mostly in hopes that your uncle would help you plot the journey. And he was slightly better at keeping secrets than Sarah was.

“Oh, you just worry about yourself, up there. We’ll look after your old man! You gotta get out there, live your life!” Tommy responded, dismissing your idea immediately, even though he knew his older brother would have secretly loved the surprise. But it had only been a few weeks since you’d left, and if Tommy was honest, he wasn’t sure you’d go back if you came home so soon.

You frowned at his response, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “You mean to tell me that you and Sarah are gonna manage the birthday breakfast, presents and cake? No way dad’ll remember any of it!” You said. For the longest time, you had been the one taking care of that sort of thing. Joel was always much too busy taking care of you and Sarah as well as overworking himself at his day job to sort out his own birthday celebrations.

Sure, Sarah was old enough by now to do this sort of thing, but it was something that you did. Since you were— what? Eleven? You had been the one to do it. Each year, you made Joel’s birthday cake, and either bought his presents or sent Tommy and Sarah out for them. Would they manage it without you? Did you even want them to?

It was the one day of the year where nothing else came first. Not schoolwork, homework, studying, work, not anything. You always made sure that this day was free, no exceptions. What would you do with it now?

“I think we can manage, right, Sarah?” Tommy said, teasingly, clearly not quite realising the significance of the day for you. Joel was your dad, in all the ways that mattered. He did everything for you! Hell, he even moved you halfway across the country, just because you thought it was what you wanted. This was the one day of the year where you got to return that. Where you got to show just how thankful you are for him, even if he did annoy the hell out of you whenever the chance arose. His birthday was the one day where you could get away with buying him gifts, and Tommy wanted you to… what? Stay this far? Be uninvolved?

“Tommy, I—… I always help with dad’s birthday. That doesn’t need to change now.” You murmured into the phone, suddenly feeling left out. It wasn’t a feeling you enjoyed whatsoever, and especially when it involved such an important day.

Tommy tutted, the sound just about crackling through the receiver, and you could picture him shaking his head, all the way back in Texas. “You gotta live your own life now, kid. Can’t be worryin’ about us little people back here. It’s high time you started puttin’ yourself first. Don’t worry about Joel’s birthday,” Tommy said, softer then, less mocking. “Me and Sarah’ve got it, alright?”

With a frown, you responded. “Alright.”

“Alrighty, now we better get goin’, your dad’ll have a fit if I make Sarah late again.” Tommy told you, and you nodded, before cringing and realising he couldn’t see that.

The three of you said your goodbyes, with Tommy putting the phone down soon after, cutting off his yells to Sarah about getting her shoes on. In the silence that followed after, you couldn’t help but feel more upset than before the call. Logically, you knew your family missed you. You knew that they couldn’t wait for you to be home at Thanksgiving, and you knew that they looked forward to your phone calls home just as much as you did. But it was hard. Brief phone calls with them just weren’t enough, and just showed that life was going on for them as normal, whilst you felt stuck.

You also knew that they were trying to give you your independence, that they were trying to let you live your life. Especially Joel. But you were finding, more and more, that you didn’t want this much independence. You wanted your dad to be overbearing and overly interested in your life, because he just wanted to be involved. You wanted your uncle to drive you to and from school, to sneak you a bottle of beer at family barbecues. You wanted to walk your little sister around town, because she was too nervous to go herself.

Everybody you had known back home had always told you that you’d be just fine at college. They had always told you that you were independent enough as it was, that you were practically an adult already, and that it’d be almost no different to home. For whatever reason, you felt guilty to think that they were wrong about you. You needed your family. You couldn’t do everything on your own, it was too much. It was too hard. It was too… lonely.

Where was your support system? Where were the three overbearing family members that would crowd you when you were upset, until you finally felt better? Who would you turn to when you needed a lift all the way across town? Who would you persuade to watch shitty DVDs from the Adler’s with you? Who would save Sarah from the Adler’s clutches?

As awful as you felt about it, you couldn’t help but want your family to feel as incapable without you as you did without them. You didn’t want them to manage without you. You wanted them to tell you to come home.

Part of you was just hoping that they weren’t doing it because they knew you were looking for the excuse to come home. Because they knew that if they asked, you’d come. Without question. Without even a moment of hesitation.

Your phone rang again, and you jumped up to answer it, hoping your dad was finally home, finally ringing you back. “Hello?”

“Hey!” Your newest and only friend greeted, the sound of a party muffling his voice. You sighed, hand over the end of the phone in hopes he wouldn’t hear it and misread your disappointment. “You sure you don’t wanna come to this thing? It’s a lot of fun!”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was the morning of your dad’s birthday, and you had barely slept a wink, despite having a class relatively early this very morning. It had been a night full of tossing and turning, full of regrets and ideas about going home at 2AM. In the end, your exhaustion let you sleep when it was nearing 6AM, and your alarm woke you up not long later.

You’d barely managed to refrain from micro-managing Sarah and Tommy, all the way from across the country. Instead, you’d let yourself believe that they’d be able to remember everything, despite your anxiety telling you otherwise. You felt awful enough about not being there for Joel’s birthday, the last thing you needed was to feel guilty about him not getting a good birthday, too.

Not that you thought that Sarah or Tommy would allow that, of course. But Tommy was almost as forgetful as Joel was, and it wasn’t like Sarah could borrow Tommy’s truck like you had, last year. She wasn’t even old enough to drive yet! Surely it wasn’t unreasonable for you to worry, right?

You held off from calling home until it was nearing the time they would be leaving for school and work respectively, in hopes of not making the three of them late. You knew that you’d have to leave for your own class soon enough, but it felt wrong to start the day without speaking to your dad. Hell, your sad breakfast of toast had already started the day off on a pretty low note.

The phone rang for an uncomfortably long time, and you were reaching out to hang up when somebody finally answered. No greeting came immediately, just shuffling over the line, alongside some distant yelling. Finally, Tommy said, “Hello?”

“Hey, uncle Tommy. Everything alright over there?” You asked, brows creased as you listened to the commotion going on within the house, audible even over the crackly phone line. It seemed that the day was not starting off as smoothly as it usually did, no doubt due to your own dad and his persistent snoozing of his alarm.

Tommy yelled something away from the phone before finally responding to your question. “All good on our front, kiddo. How’re you doin’?” He asked, though you didn’t miss how distracted he sounded as he asked.

“Um, fine, I guess. Is dad there?”

“Huh? Oh, hang on.” Tommy replied, before you heard the clunk of him placing the phone down on the wooden table it sat on. There were some crackles that you think were his boots against the floor as he walked away, and you distantly heard him yelling for your dad. “Joel, your kid is on the phone!”

It’s awkward — the waiting, that is. The second hand on your watch ticking away until the minute hand moves, and still, there’s only faint rustling on the other end of the phone. Finally, after almost three full minutes, somebody picks up the phone.

Sarah said your name cheerfully, and you smiled tightly, despite yourself. “Hey, Sarah. How’s it been, sorting dad’s birthday?”

“Oh, not so bad. Made him eggs this morning, because he forgot the pancake mix yesterday. And he’s picking up the cake later! But don’t worry! I’ve got his present sorted.” She rambled, barely pausing to take a breath between sentences. You can imagine that she’d been stressed, trying to sort everything. It’s not as easy when you’re young, and you know that from experience.

“I don’t doubt you for a second. Where is dad?” You replied, eyebrows creased as you waited for her response.

“He’s running late, as always.” Sarah answered, and you could picture her rolling her eyes. She was punctual by nature, and definitely didn’t get that from Joel. He was always too late.

“I’m here, I’m here.” You heard faintly, the words muffled across the line. “You, go get in the truck. We’re late! Hey, kiddo.” Joel said, talking to Sarah before finally addressing you on the phone.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but we really are running late. I’ll call you once I’m home, alright?” Joel told you, sounding apologetic and frustrated. He probably missed you — and your annual birthday breakfast — just as much as you missed him.

“Okay. Happy birthday, dad.” You responded, feeling increasingly down. You should’ve never listened to Tommy. Joel’s birthday would no doubt be a disaster without you. And you already knew he was going to forget to pick up his birthday cake before returning home from work. It was the whole reason you always baked him one before he got home.

“Thanks, kiddo.” Joel said, a faint smile audible in his voice. He hung up a moment later, already shouting to Tommy and Sarah before the call was cut off. You frowned at the phone in your hand, your eyebrows furrowed as you thought of your family back home. Moving away truly wasn’t a good idea, was it?

That was what your thoughts were stuck on, for the rest of the day. Even as you proceeded to go to classes and see your few friends as normal, you couldn’t help but feel that pit in your chest getting worse, like you really were making a mistake. It was suffocating, and it felt never ending.

When you finally got back to your dorm room — much to your friend’s dismay, after having left them in the library to do an essay alone — you waited by the phone for your dad to call you back.

But when the phone finally did ring, it wasn’t your dad on the other end. Sarah greeted you the moment you answered, sounding relatively tired. She started telling you about her day, and about how Joel still wasn’t home, despite it nearing the late evening. She also told you about having to go to the Adler’s house, and helping Mrs. Adler bake disgusting cookies, followed by how creepy her mother was. Sarah had always found the old woman to be creepy, with her motionless state and blank expression, but in her words, the old woman seemed even more creepy than usual.

You rejoiced with her when she told you the title of the shitty DVD she’d borrowed from their extensive collection, though. It was one of your favourite things about your dad’s birthday traditions, even though the movie was almost always awful.

The call didn’t last long, because Sarah wanted to get her homework done before the weekend started, so you let her go, and sat in your quiet dorm room, once more. It was lonely, more than anything, and even though you often just sat alone in your bedroom at home, it was different. There was no option of going downstairs to see your dad, or crossing the hall to see your sister.

Eventually, you fell asleep, the dim lighting of your room alongside your poor night of sleep prior meaning that you couldn’t wait for Joel to call any longer.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The first thing you think when you wake up to a world of chaos, is that you never got to speak to your dad last night.

Even as the world rages on around you, people going insane, reports of an outbreak, shots fired on the streets, you can only think of your family, who feel as if they’re half the world away. How are you going to get to them? Are they okay? Are they alive? What was the last thing you said to them? Did you tell them you love them?

It’s a quick downward spiral, one which you’re only pulled out of when your friend appears in your vision, gripping your arm with relief that is practically palpable in the air around you. He’s covered in sweat and dirt, and you think there’s blood staining his sleeve. Still, it’s a relief to see him, to see a familiar face as the sky turns dark and chaos rages on.

He’s pulling you down the street in the next moment, past the site of a car wreck, with three, four— five cars practically piled on top of one another, one of which is already ablaze. There’s glass and blood and bodies everywhere you look, and it’s a feat that you don’t throw up.

“Robbie, what’s happening? Do you know what’s happening?” You asked desperately, straining to be heard over the sound of people screaming and crying around you.

“I—I don’t know. We need to get out of here, it’s… it’s bad. It’s really, really bad.” Robbie answered, his voice shaking even more than it had when he’d been talking of home, missing his family. You imagine he missed them far more in this moment, just like you did. He didn’t look back at you, but he did lower his hand to your own, rather than gripping your wrist. You squeezed his fingers, breathing through the growing pit in your chest, through the weight settling in your throat.

You’re not sure how long the two of you walk, but by the time you paused, the sun was rising. Half of you is convinced that you’re in some kind of delusional state, delirious enough from your lack of sleep that this is some sort of illusion that your brain is creating. The other half of you, however, knows better. It’s the part of you that keeps that pit in your chest empty, that keeps it all consuming. It’s the part that knows something is very, very wrong.

You kept wondering how this happened. How did the world turn to chaos in a matter of days? Hours? Sure, you’d caught glimpses of news reports following what doctors believed to be some kind of virus outbreak, but that didn’t prepare you for this. It hadn’t seemed so serious yesterday.

Between lapses of silence on your trek with Robbie, he’d told you everything he knew. He told you about how he tried to call his family, about how all the phone lines were down. He told you about his roommate, who had tried to attack him the moment he exited his room. It was only thanks to a few passersby that Robbie had been able to barricade his roommate in their shared dorm.

It was a mass outbreak, it seemed, and clearly, the government had no idea how to handle it. The entirety of the state was in disarray, and there had been orders to shoot civilians on sight. Both of you were terrified of coming across anybody, whether they were Infected or just hostile, neither of you wanted to die. All you wanted was to see your family again.

You knew you never should have come to this college.

Neither you nor Robbie had brought it up, but there was an unspoken question about where you were going to go. Where could possibly be safe? How were you going to get to your families? The two of you lived in opposite directions, so what were you going to do? Split up and try to get back to your home states alone? There was no way to even tell what you were going to find, if you even made it that far. Would your family be there? Would they have left? What if they tried to come to you? What if they were already gone?

There was no way to communicate with either of your families, and the uncertainty was wearing you both down. What if you got to them, and you infected them, somehow? How did you even know if you were Infected? Was there warning signs before you turned violent?

You didn’t know what to do, and it was making you even more anxious. You wanted, more than anything in the world, to be with your dad. A part of you just knew that Joel Miller would know exactly what to do. He would know how to keep you safe. It was the only thing that was giving you any semblance of comfort, the knowing that Joel would look after himself, Tommy and Sarah. All you had to do was find him, and everything would be okay. It had to be.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was nearing a month since Outbreak Day, as so many had taken to calling it, and everything still felt surreal. You and Robbie had stayed together, and had come across a group of three others who had some supplies. One of them, Benny, was an ex-military man, and coincidentally, he had known your uncle, back in the day. It seemed like too much of a sore subject to ask how, so you refrained. You hoped, however, that if you could manage to find somebody who knew your uncle in the midst of an apocalypse, you’d be able to find him. And with him, would, of course, be your dad and sister. They would have stuck together, you were certain.

Regardless, Benny was keeping you safe. You felt far more comfortable with him than you did the others with him, given he knew your family. There was something reassuring about it.

The five of you were travelling together, avoiding populated areas and sticking to forests and fields to travel when you could. It seemed to be the best way to avoid those who were infected, as many of them were clustered in cities and neighbourhoods. There was more than one time, though, that you came across camps which had been ravaged by the infection. Benny had shot someone on one of these occasions, when she had broke from the tree line and approached you at a run, sobbing through breaths.

You had been terrified at the time — horrified, really, but when you got closer, passing her body, you saw the infection crawling up veins, sprouting from her skin. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the sound of gunfire.

All the work you had put in to get into that stupid college seemed trivial, now. If you thought too long about it, you were almost certain that you would go insane. It didn’t matter how much you regretted all of your past decisions, it would never change where you were. It would never change the fact that you had no idea if your family were okay.

There was no doubt in your mind that you would’ve never survived if it hadn’t have been for Benny. He was strict with you, stopping you from eating anything that could’ve infected you, because he was certain that the mass outbreak must involve some kind of infection in the food supply. He kept you alert at all times, and refused to let you lag behind the rest of them. He kept you alive.

That fact became all the more clear when you when he woke you up, a hand pressed over your mouth. Instinctively, you had panicked, eyes wide and your limbs flailing until you realised who it was, and when he pressed a finger to his lips, you had nodded. You trusted Benny, for whatever reason, he seemed to care about keeping you safe. But Benny had a certain look in his eye that you didn’t like, the furrow of his brow had seemed deeper than usual.

When he pointed towards Robbie, you could see why.

He laid on top of a blanket you had found, his head turned towards you, eyes closed as if he was asleep. But his fingers were twitching, and there was a sheen of sweat across his brow. His skin looked dull, and when you squinted at him, you barely stopped the gasp from escaping your throat. Instead, it had gotten stuck, and you couldn’t breathe as you stared at the Infection raised upon Robbie’s veins.

You had looked towards Benny, and he shook his head. You knew what that meant.

The four of you tried to leave in silence, but Robbie had woken up anyway. He squinted over at you, calling your name in a slurred voice, and his eyes had looked all wrong. Against your better judgement, you turned back towards him, Benny’s hand on your shoulder. “Where’re you goin’?” Robbie slurred out, his voice failing halfway through his words, and he had stumbled to his feet. You had taken a step back at his approach, and he noticed. He looked down at his hands, brows furrowed, eyes taking in the way his fingers had twitched, and he shook his head. “No. No, no, no, no, no!” He had yelled, stumbling around before he had turned back to the four of you. “This ca—can’t be happening.”

“Robbie, I’m—I’m sorry.” You had answered, voice cracking over the words, as you stared at the boy who would never make it home to his family. You had wondered if you would meet the same fate.

“C’mon, kid,” Benny murmured, eyes stony as he had stared at Robbie, his shoulders tense and his hand had hovered over the gun at his hip. “We need to go.” He had said, hand firm at your shoulder as he turned you away from the first friend you had made at the college you’d dreamed of. How had this dream turn into such a nightmare? “Robbie… don’t make me do it. We need to go our separate ways.” Benny had yelled at Robbie, when he had tried to approach the moment your back was turned.

“I’m not infected!” Robbie shouted back, though his twitching limbs and the way he seemed to lack control of his body said otherwise. His eyes were bloodshot, red around the edges, and you had known what was going to happen next. It didn’t make it any easier.

You didn’t look back after the shot went off, after there was a distinctive thud behind you. You knew that you would never get used to the sound of a gun being fired.

∘₊✧───── ─────*───── ─────✧₊∘

***

Joel Miller tried to kill himself.

He doesn’t know how to respond to the fact that he failed. If he’s honest, he doesn’t really know how to respond to anything. He’s not even sure that anything that’s going on is real. How can it be? How can there be zombies in the world? How can his daughter be dead? How can he have no way of knowing if you’re alive?

It’s all been blurry, after Sarah. Joel spends more than a minute thinking about the fact that there’s an after her. She was meant to outlive him — you both were. And here he is, very much alive, while his daughter is dead, and you may be, too.

The world is turning around him and Joel just can’t get his bearings, can’t get past the pain at his temple, the sound of gunshots. How could he live through a bullet to the skull, when his daughter is dead? How could his daughter be dead?

He’s vaguely aware of Tommy at his side. Joel is vaguely aware of everything, really. He can hear all of the screaming, the crying, the questions, but he isn’t really listening. He isn’t really listening to Tommy begging him for something or other, either. And if he had any capacity to feel anything, Joel thinks he might feel bad for ignoring his younger brother, the man who had relied on Joel his whole life, but he just can’t.

All Joel can do is close his eyes, and watch his daughter die in his arms all over again.

All he can do is hear the sound of the severed phone line upon trying to call you. All he can do is think about how scared you must have been, alone in an unfamiliar state, with no way to get home. All Joel can do is revel in all the ways he failed his children.

What does Tommy expect from him? How could Joel possibly go on when he has just lost the most important people in his life? The only people who mattered? Of course, Joel loves his little brother, and he would do almost anything for him, but this? This is asking too much of him. Expecting him to live when his daughter is… when you could be… It’s all too much.

“Joel,” Tommy says, his voice quiet in the raging chaos behind the curtain around them, and he stares at his older brother as if he’s a stranger. The bandage across his head makes him look weird, and the despondent look in his eyes is one that Tommy doesn’t recognise. “Joel.” He says more urgently, grasping onto his brother’s shoulders, seemingly trying to shake him back to reality. “We have to keep going.”

But Tommy’s urgency means nothing to Joel, who can barely see his brother with the way his eyesight is blurring.

Tommy continues nonetheless, grasping Joel’s shoulders more roughly, unable to rid the image of Joel pulling the trigger from his mind. This was his older brother, the man who had almost raised him, who had protected him at every turn. To see that man so… hopeless, so done with the world, it was jarring, even more so than the apocalypse.

“You can’t give up on me, Joel, we gotta go find them.” Tommy says, getting louder and more desperate as the time passes and Joel continues to look dazed and far away. This seems to catch his attention the slightest bit, and when Tommy says your name, Joel’s eyes clear up slightly. “They need us, okay? They need you.”

It might be true, Joel considers. But he’s not sure what he would do if they found you anything other than healthy and well. If you’re dead, too, then that cements Joel’s failure, ensures his passage to join you.

“Okay,” Joel murmurs instead of voicing anything else, realising through the muddle of his thoughts that if you were alive, he needed to find you. “Alright, Tommy, I’m… I’m here.”

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[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Cigarette Burns

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.8K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: near-death experience, trauma from abusive mother, DESCRIPTION OF BURNS

—————

When my time comes around. Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down

The cold is an enemy to fear more than infected or regular people in this kind of world. You could be in a remote area with no one for hundreds of miles, but the cold is always there. It doesn’t hide or wait for you to call it out, it attacks harshly and violently with no forgiveness. If you don’t have warm enough clothes, shelter, or fire you’re not surviving the night out with Mother Nature. It feels like thousands of needles stabbing into your skin repeatedly, or a numbing sensation that fills your body with panic when you can’t move your limbs. The cold could feel like you are melting it scorching your skin as it brings you to the sweet release of death. Cold isn’t a friend to any it went for everyone and everything, and only walked away knowing that you weren’t going to get back up.

Kansas winters were easier than Wyoming. Having a building to hide and be sheltered from, though run down with limited heat. You became resourceful, the puddle of blankets pushed right next to the heater waiting for the sputters and rattling as the heat flowed through it to get you through the night. The heater right beside the window allows you to gaze up into the sky connecting the stars to create paintings in the inky darkness. You are surprised how much was coming from the heater. It was never on for this long maybe a minute max but it was flowing steadily through.

“Honey?” The airiness of your mother’s voice threw you in a whirlwind not expecting the softness coming from the usual snarl and venom. “Come to bed with Mommy. Aren’t you so cold?” She stands at the doorway to her room holding her hand out as you push yourself up from the makeshift bed of blankets.

“But you don’t like me in your room.” You whisper out to her. It was one of the many things she ordered you to never touch. But her room was the biggest, she didn’t want you stealing anything as she puts it. She gives a soft smile still holding out her hand.

“Come on…daddy and I are waiting for you.” She says and you freeze. Your dad? But you never knew him, he left long before you were even born. A thing she constantly reminds and blames you for.

Ruining my fucking life….I should never have slept with that bastard…should have gotten rid of you the second I found out I was pregnant….bastard child along with a bastard father.

You always wondered what he’d be like, probably kind and strong, someone who would wipe your tears away when you were sad and make you smile from the jokes he would tell. To protect you from your bullies…to keep you safe from your mother. You wished he stayed so he’d take you away and it would be the two of you. But you never expressed those things. You tried asking about your father when you were very young but it only led to her screaming at you, how you were an ungrateful brat, after everything she’s done you wanted to think about being with your father. The guilt she held over your head like a toy twisting and molding it to have her be the perfect mother and you the horrible daughter.

Maybe you are a bad daughter…

Your father didn’t want you and she could have abandoned you too but didn’t. Was it love? You don’t think you knew what love is, whether platonically or romantically so those thoughts died. The idea of a father seemed like a fading thought, the idea seemed unrealistic like it was impossible to exist. Staring at the bedroom door that held your mother…and father waiting for you. To protect you…to love you.

“Come on kid!” A voice yells and your eyes snap open seeing Joel above you. Your body instantly shakes and you feel so cold and the striking pain in your shoulder and neck. It isn’t just the lack of body temperature that is painful each shiver and quake causes your body to ache and that produces more pain in your shoulder. Everything is fuzzy and dim your head feels like a dead weight as it almost lolls back if the man didn’t grab your neck to keep you stable. “Keep your eyes open. You’re alright,” He says before he yells over his shoulder, “Ellie where are those damn blankets!”

“I got them!” A young voice yells out and you see the girl holding a crap ton of blankets that she could barely see where she is walking. Another large shiver racks through your body an instinctive groan of pain as Joel looks over seeing your outerwear is off, your coat, socks, and boots are soaked in snow. The single layer of the long-sleeve shirt was still bleeding heavily and you weren’t even wearing gloves. Your fingers and parts of your face were bright red but he was glad to not see any signs of frostbite but mild symptoms of frostnip. The thick line across your throat from the cable made the flesh raw and irritated. He felt cemented in place trying to think of the next best step but he could only see his little girl in his arms when he had to carry you inside when you passed out from the pain and cold.

“Joel move, find the suture kit, and then get something warm for her drink. Tommy washcloths and gets some wood to start a fire. Ellie watch him.” Maria moves the older man aside before giving her son to the younger girl as she takes over the survival and motherly instincts coming out taking complete control of the situation. Your body practically vibrates from the cold and Maria moves closer you try to pull away but your shoulder makes you wince.

“You’re alright I need to take off your shirt so we can check your wounds. You have something under this?” Her voice is warm and comforting and she could see fear in your eyes surprising her used to sharp and cold ones. After gaining more sense of consciousness and understanding of the situation you were in you nod and she helps you sit up the blankets covering part of your stomach and your legs. Tommy returns with the washcloths and Joel with the suture kit before they return to their second task. Her hands move to your shirt and you stiffen and she waits noticing the uneven rhythm of your breathing before helping take off your shirt. Left in a slightly bloody tank top the shirt now clutched between your hands as you hear Maria’s sharp inhale. The noise drew the attention of the two adults just finishing their duties and the young girl.

Ellie had entered the kitchen with the baby to keep their view away from that finding the man standing there frozen unsure what to make, you couldn’t have coffee it could mess with your heart, and alcohol was out of the question. Joel had seen your aversion to the amber liquid. He hadn’t noticed the tightness in his chest and the ringing in his ears until Ellie grabbed his arm pulling him out of his state of panic.

“Joel..” The girl pulls him from his thoughts as he looks at his surrogate daughter, “You alright?” He wasn’t sure where this sudden state of panic came from. He had watched you ride out after one of the horses, himself and Tommy following after entering the storm urgency in them knowing you had no idea what was out there and you were defenseless. They had heard the large bang that sent fear through both brothers before the horses appeared without the rider. Joel headed off where they came from while Tommy wrangled the creatures. He had arrived just before it was too late seeing you being choked by a raider quickly shooting the one that was suffocating you seeing the damage you committed to the other raider. You had almost attacked him the fear and adrenaline probably overdosing your veins seeing the cold affecting you and the speckles of blood on your face.

It was that same fear in your eyes that he’d seen before. The years ago when Ellie had been kidnapped he was too late to rescue her from losing her innocence as she killed her captor, but the same fear that night all those years ago as his little girl clutched his arms as the life faded from her. He saw that same fear in your eyes and it sent him into a panic like he was reliving a horrid memory where he just kept failing. The nightmares he couldn’t remember when he woke up though he didn’t have them as often but when you came into his life they seemed to return. You are harsher and ruthless, everything he was during the beginning of the end of the world but you were only a kid. Tainted with the basics of childhood and thrust into the hate and death of the world. There are many things he wanted to know; how did you end up in Wyoming from Kansas, did you lose your parents during your travels, he wanted to know everything that there was about you. This draw and connection he didn’t think he’d feel. You are blunt, crude, aggressive, and an annoyance to him but here he stood panicking over you.

Why?

“I don’t think we have anything…to um..drink.” He says forcing himself to take a shaky inhale to calm his rapid heartbeat. Ellie seems to sense the panic and see the softness in the man’s eyes. Despite it being about a year in Jackson Joel was still a recluse, sure he helped around the community being a contractor in his past but he wasn’t one to make friends. He spoke in short phrases, grunts, and nods when people talked to him. It reminded her of someone she knew. He only really cracked a smile or told those dumb jokes around his brother or Ellie, and sometimes Maria. But you are here and she saw the softness as he held you in his arms bringing you inside or when he spoke to you before he was sent off into the kitchen. Ellie moves through the kitchen opening a cabinet reaching into the far back feeling the bag of treats she has hidden pulling out the bag of chocolatey goodness then to a fridge pulling out some milk. She puts the objects in Joel’s hands as he looks at them confused.

Ellie points at the chocolate and the milk, “Put that in there and heat it up, it’s good. It’s called-” “I know what hot chocolate is.” Joel grunts surprised to see the candy it looks handmade as he gets to work. He remembers a time when he made these during Christmas with small marshmallows and using candy canes to stir, even on rainy days watching a movie, or during sick days knowing they always warmed up Sarah making her feel better from whatever illness was affecting her. It was domestic and normal standing over the stove watching the milk heat up as he stirred the broken pieces of chocolate to melt once warm enough pouring it into a mug. He enters the room with the younger girl and his nephew and hears Maria’s sudden inhale and panic rises in him.

“What is it?” Tommy asks heading towards his wife stopping and his eyes widen taken over by shock. Joel was more panicked and Ellie was curious about what was going on as she and Joel took in what was shocking Maria and Tommy. They all noticed the scars that litter your arms, they expected something from someone who protected themselves out in this fucked up world. But they were crude the scars probably worse than the injury with the suture work you likely performed on yourself, but that wasn’t the scar and injury that had caught Maria’s attention and soon drew all theirs as Ellie tried understanding what a group of scars on your arms were.

“What is that?” Ellie questions the dot-shaped scars and Joel feels a sickness fill his stomach, “Are those burns?” She says that the adults in the room who did live in a normal world at one point recognize the scars that could only be caused by an object that was used by frequently stressed-filled parents with sticks of nicotine.

“Ellie take Liam upstairs. Now.” Joel’s voice is harsh and the teen tries to protest but with the look Joel gives her she doesn’t dare to defy taking the young baby upstairs the door to her room closing. Tommy stands up holding a fist to his mouth trying to hold in his rage.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tommy spits the anger thick in his voice “Tommy.” Joel gives a warning tone to his younger brother.

“It’s fucking cigarette burns Joel. Christ,” Tommy wipes his hands down his face, “Those have to be years old.” You frown at Tommy's pacing vibrating with frustration and rage. The younger Miller seems to have noticed your look bending down to your level, “I’m not mad at you kid it’s just…you didn’t deserve this whoever did this to you.” You look away from the male using part of the shirt to cover your arms the small burns covered your forearms but the damage was already done they had seen it. Maria starts grabbing the needle and thread but you try stopping her.

“I can do it,” You look ashamed seeing their pity in their faces, “I don’t need your help.” Maria shakes her head.

“Just let me do this for you or we’re getting the doctor.” She places the final offer but you’re trying to pull your shirt back on biting your lip to stop the groan of pain and the once-clotted blood begins free-flowing. Joel curses grabbing one of the washcloths and presses it to your shoulder.

“Stop it! I don’t need your help!” You yell trying to pull away but it only creates more pain for you. “Stop it kid. You can’t see the full extension of it and your previous work isn’t a good show of trust,” Joel says and you glare up at him.

“Please kid, you’ve been bleeding for a while.” Tommy pleads and the rational side that wishes to live wins out but the more pissed off side doesn’t go down easy.

“I don’t want you here.” You say and Tommy sighs but if that was what got you to comply he gets up heading towards the stairs. You look over at Joel who hasn’t moved, “You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.” You hiss and for a second you feel guilty seeing his concern reveal slight hurt before it’s quickly covered by the mean expression constantly on his face. Joel nods stiffly moving out of the living room past his brother the door to his room slamming shut while Tommy makes his way to Ellie’s room to see his son.

The living room is quiet except for the occasional grunt of pain from you when the needle pierces through your skin and a murmur of apologies from Maria. Holding one of the washcloths to wipe away stray blood that spills Maria sits behind you as you sit sideways on the couch. Your gaze is drawn to the falling snow from the window in the living room counting the flakes that made contact with the glass.

“You know you should talk about it.” Maria speaks up and she watches your shoulders stiffen at her words before she continues, “You had us worried when Tommy and Joel watched you rush after that horse.” It’s quiet and she isn’t even sure if you heard what she said.

“We only want what’s best for you and seeing these kinds of injuries on your body. I worry Tommy worries, Ellie worries, even Joel. Especially Joel.” She says and a mixture of a scoff and laugh comes from you.

“What do you know what’s best for me…you’ve kept me here for your safety.” You say, “If you wanted to you could have killed me already so no one would find this place.” It was true if this had been any situation and you had stumbled upon them you would have been six feet under by now, but they met you, they came to the cabin, they decided to bring you back and help you. You could have bled out in that cabin if they had left when you told them to.

“And we didn’t because we are trying to bring back a sense of normalcy here. If we just killed people left and right we would be no better than those raiders after you,” Maria says and you hiss slightly from the needle entering your flesh. “In case you hadn’t noticed everyone in this building cares about you. And no matter how much you curse or say you don’t need our help. Deep down there’s a part of you that wants to let us in to ask for help.”

Maria lets silence fill the two of you as she continues her sewing and you don’t seem to even flinch at the pain. “It’s my fault anyway.” You say and Maria glances over your shoulder seeing you grip the bloody washcloth between your hands.

“I got myself in that mess and I found out what happened….I fucked around and I found out.” Your voice was thick tracing each burn on your arms with your eyes each ranging from light scar tissue from how long it's been others just as old darken from how long the butt of the stick pressed into your flesh. The young screams still echo in your ears as your arm was held to the table when it first happened just to get hit for crying. You learned quickly to not cry when she gave you that punishment.

“And who said it was your fault cause those don’t look like just a one-time occurrence.” Maria presses wanting to hear a name or someone. She prays whoever did this was long dead or suffering a horrible life. You felt a tightness in your throat at the question. You can still smell the nicotine and liquor on her breath the harsh grip of her nails breaking the skin with her warnings.

“Tell anyone and you’re going to wish you were never born.”

She isn’t here she couldn’t do anything. As much as you knew she was long gone Kansas City was running wild with infected from what Ellie described in her journeys.

“My..my mom.” It was so quiet you are certain she didn’t hear you but she did. She pauses the needle held in her hand as she looks at the profile of you. “It wasn’t her fault. She acts out when she’s mad. We were low on ration cards and I had gotten in trouble with Fedra.” It was a ramble of excuses that Maria knew did excuse burning your child. Maria’s silence makes you stop.

“Just…don’t tell them. I can feel your pity eating away.” You say and the older woman frowns she does feel bad for you. No child should have ever been treated like that and she was certain some of these other injuries may have been the cause of your mother.

“And your father,” She finally speaks up as she ties off the last stitch moving to clean the rest of the blood with the cloth, “He didn’t try to stop her?”

“A man that I’ve never met can’t really help ya know.” You say dryly. You wish he was there. Maybe he would have stopped it all, taken you away, and been the dad you’ve only seen in stories and dreams. But he wasn’t. Did that make him worse than her, he left a woman pregnant in a world that was ending around you all. Wrapping your shoulder in the bandage and briefly covering your neck she pulls back beginning to collect the items for the suture kit and bloody washcloths.

“Thank you.” You say and Maria looks back seeing you still not facing her and a small grin grows on her face. It was progress, slow progress but progress. More than a one-sided conversation though not a lighthearted one and a ‘thank you’ not some nod or even forced. Genuine.

“Just be careful with your shoulder.” She says before she heads upstairs to collect her husband and son from the event-filled night. When both Miller brothers, Maria and Ellie return downstairs to head out but also check in on you just catching a glimpse of you retreating to your room. The living room was back in order the suture kit was all packed up the bloody washcloths and your shirt was thrown away. Maria reassured the three of them you were alright and Ellie was a bit upset wanting to see you but retreated back to her room to sleep. Joel looks over at the mug still full resting on the table his gesture of help is forgotten and it makes his chest ache slightly.

“She’s gonna be alright?” Tommy says while fixing his grip on his sleeping son, the three adults had seen the scars and burns, and how you acted to them and towards people explained a lot.

“It was a pretty deep cut and her neck was raw as hell but other than that she’s alright,” Maria explains but Joel could see she was hiding something. There was a look on her face something she knew but she didn’t tell him even Tommy.

“And the burns,” Tommy whispers not wanting to speak up on it around his son even though he was fast asleep and too young to remember. Joel watches Maria as she pauses before fixing her coat.

“She wouldn’t tell me how she got them.” Liar. He could spot the lie as clear as day. But why was she covering for you? Joel nods and with nothing more to say the small family of three left to return to their home as Joel moves to the living room. Your coat hung on the hooks and your shoes and socks were piled neatly in the corner despite him ripping them off you in a panic. It’s as if you were never injured and sewed back together on the couch. Your features for such a young girl held such tiredness and stress even as you bled out. No fear though. Not a moment where you were afraid of dying just wanting this moment of weakness to go. A weight in his gut from the circumstances of today, thousands of scenarios running through his head, what if he and Tommy were too late for the raiders? What if your injuries were too severe for them to help you?

Stop it, Joel.

He shakes his head looking at the couch and your words ring back at him,

“You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.”

Pulling back like he was burned he returns to his room pushing away the insecurities and questions. The still-filled mug remains on the table the only thing holding the memories of what occurred tonight.

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller x teen!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x teen!reader #ellie williams x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x reader

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

SUGAR - T.M

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Warnings: children, pregnancy, mentions of murder, guns, mention of character death

Pairing: tommy miller x fem!reader

Summary: the man who you never thought you'd see again turned up with some random child to your home with your husband and child

Wordcount: 6.5k

The cold weather was getting harsher and harsher every day and although you loved the town of Jackson, you missed the Texas winters from before the outbreak.

You looked around the town. Sometimes you didn't appreciate everything that you had but as you looked around, you realised how lucky you were to have him and to have this safe haven.

The world was full of criminals and thieves and murderers, titles that you had once held the mantle of, but now you just wanted to settle down in your little slice of paradise.

You and Tommy had been best friends since you were 18 and he was 22, the two of you having met through mutual friends but not really becoming friends until you were 19 and 23.

When the world as you knew it ended, you found comfort in one another and eventually in the fireflies. When that didn’t work out, you ended up here in Jackson where you could finally

You looked up, watching as he worked on the construction of a new building. He looked down at you, his face lighting up at the sight of you, waving in your direction. He flashed you that infamous smile, the one that made you smile even on the darkest days and you fell in love with him all over again.

You waved back at him before walking towards the gate when all of a sudden, you saw a huge crowd of patrolmen riding into town. Everyone watched and they stopped as they saw you standing in the middle of the street.

Maria stepped off the horse, looking at the

“Give me the gun,” one of the men, Richard, said, holding his hand out as he looked at the girl, his gun steady in his hand.

Her eyes flicked between the his gun and her gun and she scoffed, “Fuck no, why do you get one?” She asked, holding it tight.

Joel reprimanded the girl, you assumed that he had already given his weapons over, and she turned to him with a scowl, repeating her statement in anger.

Richard raised his weapon, repeating his statement with the same aggression and you stepped in between them, the barrel of his pistol too close to your forehead, “Why don’t we put the weapon down Richard, Tommy won’t like it if you blow a bullet through my skull,” you said, knowing the leverage you had.

Joel’s heart sped up at the sound of his brother's name, he was here and he was alive and that’s all that mattered. He felt guilty for the way that he had treated his brother, and you, back in the QZ and now it was time for him to repent.

You turned your back to Richard as he lowered his gun, holding your hand out and stating your name, “I’m sorry about him, now can you give me the gun. I promise one day you’ll get it back,” you said.

She nodded, not many people stood up for her like you had just down, ready to take the short end of a bullet for her. She handed her gun over and you thanked her, placing it in the empty holster on your side.

When you looked at Joel, you saw his elated smile, “Where’s Tommy?” He asked and you smiled at him, looking over at where your husband was working. Joel's eyes followed your gaze and when he noticed Tommy, you saw the visible joy on his face,

"Tommy!" Joel called out and the man turned around abruptly at the sound. He hadn’t heard that voice in years but as he turned and looked at his brother, you watched as his face lit up.

The two quarrelled constantly back when you three lived in the QZ and that was one of the reasons why you two left but as you watched Tommy scrambling to get off of the scaffolding, you saw that all of the anger dissipated as he rushed to his big brother.

He ran over to him, pulling him in for a hug. You knew how Tommy felt about Joel, how he wished things had been different with his brother but now he was here and you saw all of his anger go out of the window. Family meant everything to Tommy and finally, after years, his family was intact again.

He pulled away, that wide charming grin that you loved so much present on his face as he chuckled to himself, "The fuck you doing here?” He asked, hands on his brother's shoulders.

"I came here to save you," Joel said with that matching Miller smile that reached his eyes, crows feet turned up.

You missed them being this happy together, like it was before the outbreak. You missed the infamous Miller barbecues where Joel and Tommy would bicker and laugh and just have fun together. And you missed Sarah too.

Joel had this wide smile on his face as he turned around, one hand still on his brother's shoulder as he looked at Ellie on the horse.

"This is my brother Tommy and his best friend for the last 30 years?" He said, stating your name to Ellie, the biggest smile on his face.

The last time you had seen Joel, he had stormed into the apartment that you and Tommy shared in the QZ, arguing with his brother over your decisions to go with the fireflies to a different QZ. You had made a mistake that day by leaving but it had allowed you and Tommy to come here so it was all worth it in the end.

"We already met," you said, a smile on your face as you helped Ellie down from her horse.

The girl wiped her hands on her trousers before looking up at you, eyes narrowed at you, "Thanks for saving my ass" she said.

"He was never going to shoot you, I would have had his ass for it,” you said, looking back at Maria who was getting off of her horse.

“You should come into the tavern, we will get you a meal,” Maria said, leading the group inside and Joel marvelled at the look of it.

It was strange that after twenty years living in a QZ, he was in a bar that looked just like one from back home. You could see the awe on both of their faces as they sat down at a table, Tommy and yourself sitting opposite them.

Once they got the food out, they both started eating rapidly, glad that they had some food. Joel looked up between bites at the two of you and Maria who sat at the head of the table.

"There's more if you need it," Maria said. She was basically the leader of the patrols even though there wasn’t a status quo and Joel had noticed.

He looked up at her, spoon still in hand, "Thank you ma'am, it's been a while since we've had a proper meal,"

"Actually I don't think I've ever had a proper meal, this is fucking amazing," Ellie said, her mouth slightly full of food, a smile on her face.

"Sorry, Ellie, let's mind our manners," he said, turning to the girl. It reminded you of when he would scold Sarah and it sent a pain through your chest as you thought about her.

"I want my gun back," Ellie stated, narrowing her eyes at the three of you. She was a mistrusting child and although you respected that, she had to learn that you weren’t bad people.

Maria looked at you and Tommy before turning her attention back to the girl, "I think maybe y'all got off on the wrong foot," Tommy stated.

"Maria was going to have her guys kill us, that douche bag had a gun pointed at me, she managed to save me" Ellie said, once again believing that you had somehow saved her.

"They were always going to let you in if you weren’t infected, and Richard never would’ve shot you or me," you reassured and Maria nodded.

“Richard was going to shoot you?” Tommy asked, brows furrowed in worry as he thought about it.

You chuckled, hand patting his shoulder lightly, “It was nothing, I’ll explain it later,” you said, not wanting to bother poor Richard getting beaten up by your husband.

"We've got to be real careful who we let in this place, we're just trying to scare off those who want to hurt us," Maria explained, looking at Joel. She had heard stories about the man and she didn't trust him already and it showed.

Ellie's eyes went wide as she spotted the ring on your finger, "That's one big diamond," Ellie said, reaching forward to get a closer look at it and you extended your hand, a blush on your face as you allowed her to look at it.

"Thanks, my husband always had a knack for finding things, this just so happened to be his best find," you said, a smile on your face as you felt Tommys hand rubbing against your knee reassuringly.

"Who are you married to? I'd love to meet him," Joel said with a smile and yours vanished as you narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of how he had never noticed it before.

You and your husband shared a look before you turned back to him, "Joel, we're married, me and Tommy," You stated and he just looked at you, almost like he had frozen in place.

"Oh shit, congrats," Ellie said, her eyes also going wide as she looked at you two, Tommys hand reaching for yours and squeezing it, "Say congrats,"

"Congrats," Joel said absentmindedly and you could tell that he was happy for you but there was something holding him back. You didn't know whether it was the shock or if something had happened that they didn't know about but he seemed distant after that.

"I know it's weird seeing us like that but we've been together for over a decade now Joel, have you never noticed?" Tommy said, his brows furrowed as he looked at his brother.

It was true, you had first realised you loved him around 8 or 9 years after it all started and after that, you kept your relationship under wraps. Not because either of you were ashamed of it but because in the fireflies, you decided that it would be too dangerous in case something happened to advertise it so freely.

"You never mentioned it," Joel said, his grip on the glass tightening as he looked at the two of you. What you didn't know was that the person that mattered to him most, Tess, had died only a few months ago and he never got to tell her how he felt.

There was a guilt weighing heavily on his chest as he thought about Tess, the look on her face when she admitted to being bitten burned into his memory. There were so many things that he wished that he could have said to her but it was too late. That explained the bitter taste in his mouth as he looked at the two of you, happy.

Joel turned to Maria as he listened to her talk to Ellie about not having guns in the area, "Ma'am, we're grateful for your hospitality but do you mind if we have some time just for family," he asked.

"It's okay, how about a tour instead and then Maria can be on her way, yeah," You said, standing up and looking at the group.

You stood up, feeling Tommys hand slip into yours as you walked out of the door together. Joel looked at the two of you, confused as to how he never noticed the way the two of you acted together.

There was this heavy weight in his chest at the sight of you being happy. It wasn’t because he was jealous, it was because it pained him to see how much had changed since the outbreak, it pained him that Sarah wasn’t here to see her uncle and the closest thing she ever had to a mother end up together

As they walked back into the cold, Maria led them around, gesturing to the town around them that flourished with all the people around. It was a real community,

"Me and a few friends settled here a few years ago, just a handful of us. We built the rest of the wall out from there. It stops most raiding parties but we still find pockets of them," she explained.

Joel looked at her, brows furrowed, "No infection?" He questioned.

"Usually smaller colonies that have wandered off from the cities, all this open country makes it like Turkey shooting," Tommy said with a smirk before imitating shooting a turkey.

You hit him on the shoulder, scolding his joke and he just smiled at you. You purse your lips together in an attempt to hold back a smile but like usual, he managed to pass your defences and make you smile too.

"How do you keep this place quiet?" Joel questioned, noticing how there really were no infected.

"Being in the middle of nowhere helps, we don't advertise what we have, we stay off the radio," Maria explained.

That comment made Joel tense up. He had been worried sick about the two of you, you were really the only family he had left, and all this time he could have reached you but this woman had been stopping him. It made him mad.

He was pulled out of his train of thought by you listing the places in town, "House of worship, multi faith, school, that's where I work," you said.

Joel smiled at you, "Your degree is coming in handy," he said, remembering the days that you would come to his and Tommy's house, arms stacked with work.

"Was hoping it would one day," you said, chuckling at the end before continuing to list the places in town, "That's laundry, old bank is the jail but we don't really need it,"

"We drew electricity from the dam, we got sewers, heaters, and light," Tommy explained, proud of everything they'd achieved here.

Joel scoffed in disbelief, "This place actually fucking works," he said, shocked that this was a real functioning town.

They walked towards the outskirts of town, away from the bustling life and towards the farms and the stables.

Ellie broke the silence in the group by turning to Maria "So, you're like in charge?" She questioned.

The woman looked back at her, shaking her head, "No one person is in charge, I'm on the council and so is Mrs Miller here," she said, looking over at you.

You smiled to yourself. You may have been married for just over three years but to hear someone call you Mrs Miller was still a bit of a shock to the system. You could also tell that it shocked Joel just by the way he flinched slightly at the words.

"It's democratically elected and there's about three hundred people here including children. Everyone pitches in and we rotate work except for specialist roles like teaching or doctors," you explained.

Tommy nodded, his hand still in yours as he used the other hand to gesture to the scenery, "Everything you see, everyone pitches in and it's all shared," he explained, nodding his head.

Joel's nose scrunched up as he turned to look at his brother, "So uh, communism?" He questioned.

Tommy made a sound in disbelief, something half between choking and a scoff, "It's not like that," he said, a smile on his face as he chuckled at the absurdity of it.

"It is like that, literally. This is a commune, it's communism," Maria said, looking back at him.

He froze in his spot for a second, his entire life flashing before his eyes as his entire belief system was flipped on its head. He looked like he was going through a hundred emotions in a minute as he comprehended the statement.

You laughed to yourself, hitting your husband's arm jokingly, "Imagine if 29 year old you could see yourself now Mr Desert Storm," you teased.

You started to walk away and he shook his head, trying not to think about the way he lived and started to follow you, arm wrapping around your waist as you stopped at the stables.

Maria showed Ellie the horses and you watched as she grinned at them, petting the horse like she'd never seen one before.

"I've got to go do some work but could you get them settled in?" Maria asked, normally it was her job to do that but it had been really busy recently and you understood.

"Yeah, of course," you said with a smile, "And could you bring Lizzy back, she's over at Linda's,"

"Of course," she said, placing a hand on your shoulder before turning to Joel and Ellie who were still standing by the horses, "I'm glad you guys are here"

Maria walked away and Joel watched her, eyes narrowed. You could tell that he still didn't trust her completely and though it was understandable, Maria was a good person and he needed to learn to trust her.

"So you can all get set up in the house across the street from ours, two bedrooms, it's nice," Tommy said, and Joel nodded.

You looked at him, "I can take Ellie over there if you two want to catch up," you said.

Joel looked at Ellie, the girl's eyes wide almost like she was scared to be separated from him.

"Yeah, okay, you'll be fine," Joel said, nodding his head. After years apart, he was glad to be able to spend some time with his brother.

You chuckled, "Come on kid, I'm not that bad," you said and she smiled at the joke, nodding her head.

You quickly walked over to Tommy, pressing a kiss to his cheek before walking towards Ellie again, the two of you walking away in conversation.

Tommy smiled to himself and Joel watched as his brother pressed a hand to the spot where she had kissed him, almost like a little child who'd been kissed for the first time.

It was the first moment where Joel really saw the love between the two and he smiled to himself, patting his brother on the back as they walked towards the bar.

It was empty when they got there, like it normally was at midday, and Joel sat down at the bar, still marvelling at the fact that it was all real.

Tommy stood behind the bar, pouring a glass of whiskey for his brother, watching as Joel's eyes went wide at the taste of fresh and real alcohol.

'It doesn't seem like you or sugar aged much," Joel stated and Tommy smiled at the nickname. The gang of smugglers you were running with back in the early years of the outbreak had labelled you with it after a series of events that lead to you being branded the nicest person in the gang.

"You on the other hand," Tommy joked as he walked around the bar to get to his brother, sitting down on the stool and taking a sip from his drink.

"How long have you two been a thing?" Joel questioned. He had always assumed that the two of you had feelings for each other but it was never confirmed to him.

He had always seen the way that you’d sleep in the same bed, holding each other after nightmares, going partying in your early twenties before the world collapsed, laughing even when the world was crumbling around you.

"Since 2010 probably, that's when I realised I loved her you know. Then obviously we were in the fireflies so we hid that from them and we've been married since we got here so about four years," he explained, a smile on his face as he reminisced.

He couldn’t imagine a life without you. When the world got too dark, you were the light that brought him back. You were the one who made him smile when the world seemed to be dull and boring, killing all the joy. You were the one who saved him from himself when he got too far into that hole of darkness.

"I'm glad you're happy," Joel said, a half hearted smile on his face. He meant it but there was something in his heart that burned at the idea of Tommy being happy in a world where he wasn't.

"Thanks for still giving a shit about me," Tommy said, raising his glass and the two men cheered to the alcohol.

Tommy watched as his older brother walked around the empty pub as it had not opened yet, he looked around at the decoration, being taken back to the time before the outbreak where this was normal, "How's Tess?” He asked. He knew you would want to see her again because you were both so close before the fireflies and he knew you regretted what you had said to her before you left.

Joel turned around, a vacant look in his eyes but a smile on his face, "She's fine, alright," he said, not mentioning the fact that she was dead because it was too hard. Joel Miller had always avoided the hard conversations.

"Good, you’ll have to bring her here, I know Sugar would like it. Who's the kid?” He asked and Joel shook his head, walking back over.

He shrugged his shoulders, feeling the weight being taken away for just a second, "Some fireflies daughter and she's trying to find her family. I was heading in this direction," he said and Tommy smiled, not noticing how he ignored the mention of bringing Tess here.

For the first time in years, he saw the good man that was his brother before the outbreak, the one that wanted to help, "Good to see your heart," he said, hoping his brother could stay. If he was able to stay then they could be a family again and his children could have an uncle and maybe it would bring some joy back to Joel's life.

"You know where they might be?” Joel asked, taking another sip from his drink as he sat back down.

"There's a base at the University of Eastern colorado but it's a bit fucked up in the weeks ride there," he explained, he knew how dangerous that trek can be with the raiders and the infected, "It's not an easy trip,"

"I made it across the country, the two of us can make it from here to Colorado," Joel said, a smile on his face. He wanted to spend more time with his brother and this was a perfect opportunity to have him back.

"I can't go," Tommy said, staring at the glass, his finger tracing the rim of it. He had too many things waiting for him here and he couldn’t risk his life, he couldn’t let his daughter grow up fatherless.

Joel scoffed, angry that his brother wasn't going to come, "Why, cause Maria won't let you? Is she the one who kept you off the radio, is that why you stopped messaging me back?' He questioned and Tommy could feel his disdain for the woman.

"After me and Sugar left the fireflies, she was in bad shape. I didn't think she'd make it and Maria saved us, that's when I realised that I wanted a normal life with her," he explained as he thought back to it.

You had been shot in a bad fight and he had stumbled across the group of men patrolling and Maria had offered to bring you two back in and help you out after they had determined that you were not infected. Her best doctors had saved your life and Tommy would be forever indebted to them for that.

"They didn't have to take us in and all we had to do was follow the rules," he said as he looked at his brother who stood up, an angry tone to his voice.

"I'm your brother," he exclaimed, looking at him,

"I'm aware, they're very protective of this place and for a good reason," Tommy said, standing up as well to look at his brother.

"I know, the wrong people may show up. Is that what I am? The wrong people?" He questioned, clearly feeling threatened. He knew what his brother did when he felt backed into a corner.

Joel scoffed, "The things you judge me for, I did those things to keep you alive, to keep your wife alive," he said, spitting out the second to last word almost like he was judging him for what he had to do.

"We did those things, they weren't just things. We murdered people and I don't judge you for it. We survived the only way we knew how but there were other ways,” Tommy explained. That was exactly why he had joined the fireflies, because that was another way and when they didn’t work out he came here and he was never planning on leaving.

"If you knew the shit I've been through the last few months-" Joel said and Tommy cut him off,

"I'm a father now," he stated, looking over at the man. He knew how that was going to affect his brother because he knew how much he suffered when Sarah died.

He had wanted to tell him from the start, tell him about his little girl and how amazing she was, how she reminded him of Sarah when she was a baby but he didn’t want to trigger Joel, he was witness to his anger when it all happened. "We've got a little girl, she's two and the missus is a few months along now, we think it's gonna be another girl but she wants to keep trying till its a boy,"

Joel had never seen his brother smile that wide, like there was nothing else in the world that he could ever want. Tommy was genuinely happy. You had given him everything that he didn’t think he deserved, a home, a family, somewhere that he didn’t have to be scared of.

"I gotta be more careful," he said, his voice breaking slightly as he thought about it. He had to stay because he couldn’t bare seeing his little girl like Sarah, bleeding in his arms, "I'm still scared of being a bad father but I feel like I'm doing well so far,"

Joel poured himself another drink as all of the thoughts ran through his head. He felt like he had failed as a father. His daughter should be 32 this year but she wasn’t because he had failed and it scared him that now his younger brother was in his position and he was making the choice he should have made, he should have protected his family better.

"Guess we'll see," Joel said, taking out his anger and frustration in the only way he knew, at his brother.

"Guess we'll see? That's all you got?" Tommy said with a scoff, angry that his brother wasn’t proud of him and that he didn’t care, "I want you to meet your niece, stay around to see the other kid and any more we might have,"

Tommy wanted to be upset that his brother was letting him down again but he had been letting him down since they entered the QZ and it wasn’t going to change now.

"Just because life stopped for you doesn't mean it has to stop for me," Tommy spat out, getting closer to his brother.

"I'll grab some supplies and be out of your hair by the morning," Joel said before storming out of the bar, leaving Tommy there.

The man reached up to a chain on his neck that had a locket, a picture of you and him and your little girl in there, the only picture he had. It was all he needed to remind himself of what he had built here with you, what he was risking even considering going with Joel.

You took your jacket off, watching as Ellie went upstairs to get changed into some of the clothes that you had gotten ready for her as well as some things that you thought would be useful.

As you walked to the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and waiting for Ellie, you looked down at your stomach.

You were five months along now. You had never imagined yourself as a mother when you had met Tommy and you never imagined it when the outbreak started. Now you had this white picket fence life that seemed like something plucked out of a daydream - as long as that fantasy included infected and constant raiders.

Ellie was upstairs, looking at the spare room. You had given her some new clothes and a warm jacket for her to wear and she was grateful thaat you were giving this all to her.

As she looked at the house, she wondered if this was what people lived like back before the outbreak, if this is what her life would’ve looked like if she would have had a family before it all.

Once she was changed, she walked downstairs, looking at the living room. Ellie had never seen a real house before and this one felt like a home, with art on the walls and a comfy looking sofa and kids toys thrown on the sofa - she wasnt quite sure what that was about yet though.

That’s when she noticed the placard on the top of the mantelpiece. It was a sign that had two names of people on it, Sarah and Eliza, the two having died months apart at the start of the outbreak.

She watched as you walked around the kitchen, cleaning up small things on the side as you waited and that’s when she noticed the baby bump that hadn’t been evident before under your jacket.

"You're pregnant," she stated. Now that the girl was thinking about it, she had never seen a pregnant woman before.

"5 months," you confirmed, watching as she came in and sat down at the table, “Me and Tommy have another kid, a little girl, she’s two,”

She nodded her head, “That’s why there’s kids toys in the other room,” she stated ad you nodded, chuckling slightly.

“Yeah, I havent had time to tidy that up yet,” you said, looking at the other room and then at the girl at the table, "Did you get what I gave you?"

Her nose scrunched up as she remembered the menstrual cup that you had left her - Maria had been the one to find the extraordinary invention, "Weirdest gift ever," she stated.

You chuckled at her reaction, "You'll thank me for it one day," you promised, asking if she wanted a drink and then proceeding to pour her a glass of water, handing it to her, "Maria can cut your hair later if you like, she's really good at it,"

"Did she used to be a hairdresser?" Ellie questioned, having assume that she was just working on the patrols.

"No, she used to be a lawyer basically," you stated, sitting down next to her.

She looked at you, watching as you took a sip from your water, "What did you used to do?" She asked and you noticed that the girl was very inquisitive.

"I had just graduated university to be a teacher, I was 25 and then it all went to shit," you explained, remembering it all.

There was a part of you that missed the world before, the partying with Tommy at night and the laughing as you ran through the park, drunk off of your asses, and the laughs at the library even as the librarian scolded you. Now that you thought about it, you two were always destined to end up together.

As silence fell between you two, you looked into the other room, eyes falling on the memorial placard that you had seen Ellie looking at and brought it up, "You were looking at the memorial,"

She nodded, face softening as she remembered seeing it. The kids had been 12 and 22 when they had died, "I'm sorry about the kids," she said.

Your face scrunched up as you thought about it, hoping she didnt think you were old enough to have had a 22 year old in 2003, "They're not mine, Eliza was my little sister. Sarah was Joel's daughter," you stated, “I’m only 45,”

You thought that the shocked look on her face was from your age and before you could be too offended, you realised that she probably didnt know about Sarah and everything that had happened in Joels past.

"You didn't know, shit," you swore as you looked at her. You didnt mean to overstep, you knew how private he was and how he never wanted to discuss Sarah, hell, he didnt want to ever discuss life before the outbreak because it was that difficult and whilst you understand, you also believed he needed to talk about it.

She shook her head, "No, it's okay. I guess that explains him a little," she said, a half smile on her face that was almost apologetic.

"He's a good man even though we did bad stuff together," you said, recalling the smuggling missions that you went on with Joel.

Before the outbreak, he had been one of the kindest men that you had ever met, rough around the edges but soft when he got to know you. After Sarah died, you realised that she was the only thing that stopped him from losing faith in humanity and without her, lost a part of himself.

Ellie looked at you confused, "You were in the gang that killed people?" She questioned, having heard all about Joels escapades.

You nodded, you had done bad things to make your way through the apocalypse, "Yeah, Tommy saved me that night, brought me with him and Joel and Sarah," you explained, “I had to do what i had to do to survive, and that meant hurting people,”

It was difficult to think about that time but since then, you’d grown and tried to find a way to make the world better and when that failed, you ended up here where you managed to make your world better, your world with Tommy.

Tommy had told you that Joel had asked him to take the girl to the fireflies, that he wasn't able to do it yourself and as much as he protested, he agreed. You knew that it was the right thing for him to do, that it was in his nature to help someone and you knew that Ellie would be in good hands with him.

He had said his goodbyes that night, holding you until the sun came up and he had said goodbye to his daughter in the morning, trying not to cry as he walked out of that door. You had sat there for a few minutes, trying to hold back the worry but you knew that you had to go and see your husband one more time.

So as you rushed to the stables, hoping to see him one more time before he left, you saw Joel and Ellie also standing there, “What are you doing here, sugar?” Your husband questioned, looking at you.

You looked between the group who were looking at you and your daughter as she rested on your hip, “I wanted to say goodbye, again,” you said, feeling a little stupid now that you said it out loud.

“Joels going to take her now,” Tommy stated and you nodded, the weight falling from your shoulders as you knew he would be staying with you again.

When you looked over at Joel, he was staring at your daughter with those wide eyes that you had only seen a handful of times. He seemed in shock as he looked at Lizzy, at the way that she looked just like Tommy, the deep brown eyes, the quirk to her little smile.

“She’s ours Joel,” Tommy stated and he nodded, pursing his lips as if he was trying to hold his tears in

You looked down at the girl who was hiding in your shoulder, not looking at the other man, “Baby, this is your uncle Joel. Joel, this is your niece, Elizabeth Sarah Miller,” you explained.

His eyes went wide, you’d both named her after Sarah, “Elizabeth?” He questioned. That was Sarah's middle name as well as your younger sisters full name and he tried to keep in the tears as he thought about it. And the fact that she had been named after Sarah made the tears well up in his eyes.

“Do you want to hold her?” Tommy asked and the man nodded, allowing his brother to hand him the little girl.

Joel held her in his arms, a smile on his face as she babbled to herself, hand coming up to his hair and tugging on it slightly. Tommy apologised, stating that she was on the stage and Joel didn’t care, gently removing the girl's hands and smiling at her.

“She’s named after those we lost,” you said, listening to the girl talk to Joel in broken sentences. He nodded, looking over at you.

Ellie watched the interaction; she’d never seen Joel’s smile be that wide before. That's when the little girl reached her arms out for Ellie, “You can hold her if you want,” you said and her eyes went wide.

She questioned you and you nodded, watching as Joel passed her over, “She’s adorable,” Ellie said, starting an easy little conversation with the girl.

You turned to Joel. Last night, Tommy had told you that Tess wasnt actually waiting back at the QZ, she had died. She had been a good friend to you back in the day and it hurt to imagine the infected finally taking hold of her, but at least she died fighting.

“I heard about Tess, was it fast?” You asked and he nodded.

“Fast enough, she didn't turn so,” he stated. It was the first time he had really discussed her death and maybe that was a step for him.

He was ready to let go of the past and to have this new family, a new start to his life that he didnt have before and that Ellie gave him.

“I’m glad,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Joel, if you want to come back here, the house is available for you,”

He smiled, “We might have to take you up on that offer,” he said and you nodded, looking over at Ellie who you assumed was the other half of the ‘we’.

You were glad that he finally had another start at having a family and as you and Tommy watched Ellie and Joel ride off into the distance, your husband wrapped a hand around your waist, the two of you knowing that he was going to be okay.

A/N, so as of releasing this, it is not a series yet but i definitely have so many ideas for Tommy and Sugar so if anyone is interested, I was going to write some prequel chapters like outbreak day or them leaving the fireflies. Also, this isn't my greatest work but I wanted to finally finish it and publish it because I love the idea so much <3

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller angst #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller x y/n #tommy miller #tommy miller fanfic #tommy miller fanfiction #tommy miller fic #tommy miller series #sugar; tommy miller #the last of us season 1 #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x wife!reader #tw children #tw pregnancy

[vanillabourbon]

the first of many. | intro | ongoing tlou series

story summary. joel arrives at Jackson twenty years after the outbreak with a young girl that cares for him just as much as he cares for her. little did he know, he would soon meet someone else that would urge his returning sense of humanity one step further.

introductory chapter warnings. weaponry. alludes to suicidal thoughts and behavior. mentions of blood and violence. wounds. kinda sad ngl but let’s call it canon. pls let me know if i missed anything.

story pairings. joel miller x reader, tommy miller x platonic!reader

words. 11k (i went a bit overboard, hehe, but editing is going slow so pls ignore any obvious mistakes. this is the first work i’ve taken seriously so please enjoy :))

-

Chicago, Illinois. September 2003.

The mind and the body’s initial response is always denial – denial of things, of circumstances, and of situations that are too radical, too unconventional, to believe.

How could anyone believe the events of things as they were? Social and societal constructs had been dismantled in a matter of hours, as if the very fabric of everyone’s being had been tied together by a mere string. The justice and sovereignty in belief, in trust in the nature of things themselves, was apparently so fickle, so haphazardly constructed in the first place, that it took a rapidly spreading infection to displace and make known just how unsafe anything is from harm.

No one should be shocked, really. Least of all you.

In hindsight, which is the only perspective anyone can rely on at a moment’s notice, everything gave way to regret and humiliation. How had no one seen this coming? Everything up until that point in time suddenly seemed so obvious – so commonsensical. It was as if someone had balled up every bad thing and every imperfect thing until it could no longer withstand its own constraints and, instead, chose to flow directly toward the seemingly permanent. 

There’s always an element of impermanence in the seemingly permanent.

For whatever reason, now, only a day had passed since the events that led to an abrupt collapse in society as you knew it. You wanted to believe the best – that society and the nature of man would prevent anything from happening. You trusted that the condition of humanity would never outweigh the moral weight of integrity and righteousness. You told yourself that the militant responses of the government were out of necessity and that order and control would fall soon after – or, at least, eventually.

Whether you truly believed that or not no longer mattered.

You were being ushered through the city of Chicago by your older brother, trailing after your uncle, aunt, and two cousins in the wake of another riot. It was dark, darker than any time you had ever stepped foot through the streets of Chicago. And it was bare. Every skitter and harsh knock of a tin trash can sent your brother’s nerves into overdrive; his fingers dug into the flesh of your forearm, dragging you beside him with every step he took. His vice-like grip pained you, but you didn’t bother to tell him that.

You did exactly what he had instructed you before: keep quiet and avoid eye contact.

Military brigades sat empty in the torn and destroyed city streets. Fires engulfed and illuminated countless buildings – convenience stores, pharmacies, mini marts, miscellaneous retail stores. For a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a young boy, no older than your small cousins, ducking behind a fire hydrant. Tiny fingers braced against the stained red paint, gripping the rusted bolts as if a life depended on it. Maybe it did. But the boy was gone when you chanced a look back.

“Eyes forward,” your brother mumbled.

You didn’t bother to argue. You were far too consumed with wandering, catching stray remnants of the world around you in your peripheral. Anything and everything surrounding you seemed too fantastical, like a stupor you were unable to shake yourself from. The tall, familiar skyscrapers were in stark contrast to the now empty storefronts and abandoned vehicles.

Even though it felt like the end of something, it seemed like the start of something else. Of what, you didn’t know.

Regardless, you wanted to make no effort to distract or distress your brother any further. You’d never seen him so laser-focused, so adamant about one thing, in your life. It was clear that safety was his top priority, and the thought sent your mind and your heart reeling. 

Even if your brother hadn’t been dragging you toward Lawrence Avenue, you felt that your feet would have been bumbling about of their own accord. You were sure they weren’t moving because of anything you were doing. Your mind was elsewhere, eyes flitting to and from every glimpse of dark corners and shattered glass you dared to witness. Surprisingly, it wasn’t fear bubbling up and threatening to overtake your every sense; it was surprise, perhaps confusion. 

Your gaze would’ve gotten lost down a dark side road as you were marched by it, but you were torn from your daze. A slight stumble, the slip of a toddler’s foot, caught everyone by surprise. One of your cousins rested in an awkward heap a few feet in front of you, ground having scraped her knee and stray debris nearly slicing her palm as she braced herself. Among stray tires and pieces of burnt wood, she looked so small, so petite. Her face twisted in pain and sadness as she turned about, first to you and your brother as you approached then to her parents only a few steps away.

Without missing a beat, your uncle ushered your aunt forward, pushing her lower back and guiding her to keep going. He did the same with his young son before going back and reaching down, scooping up his daughter from where she lay on the pavement with one hand and reassuring her with the other.

Momentarily, his eyes flitted toward you and your brother. It was the first time he had turned to look at either of you since you started your trek. For a moment, you wondered if he was about to say something. 

But he didn’t. He only locked eyes for a second, maybe longer, before he was turning on his heels and picking up his pace to a light jog.

Only minutes had gone by before your family’s pounding footsteps were quieted by shouts and gunfire. A frighteningly sudden halt came when you all jolted to a stop. If things were still, you would’ve been gracious for the moment to rest your feet, for the chance to catch your breath and rock back on your heels to ease the pain from your soles. The act of running was starting to take its toll – stripping and coercing your composure and relief from their rightful place.

Calm felt so far removed. Even more so when the gunfire ceased and a loud, nearly automated voice came over a distant speaker: “ALL REMAINING CIVILIANS MUST REPORT TO ONE OF TWO EMERGENCY MEDICAL CAMPS.”

A tan army vehicle passed by your group just then. It rolled passed, and you all did a poor attempt at ducking into the shadows. Your brother’s grip tightened, if that were even possible, and dragged you to his side. Your breath caught in your throat until the back tire of the vehicle disappeared from sight, rolling down the road and toward the loud din still protruding from two streets over.

Whoever was among the shouting didn’t matter. It was clear that there were a lot of them, and that scared you. The streets had seemed so empty, so shallow. For a moment, you could pretend like your family was all that was left, that you all would make it to your aunt and uncle’s vehicle you’d left at airport parking. Maybe drive until you found a place safe enough to sleep. Wake to a world not burnt and bruised on every side.

It was a good dream. A pipe dream, perhaps, but a good one.

Your uncle was the first to move. He wrapped his arms around your aunt and cousins, driving them down a side street a few feet away. Your brother, a slight wild look in his eye, chanced a look around. For a split moment, he looked as if he was going to grab your wrist and keep running, chance a run-in with the military or with a group of people just as scared as the two of you. But he didn’t. He let out a low huff and dragged you toward the same side street.

Your aunt was huddled a few feet away, partially occluded by shadow and rocking one of your cousins in her arms. She was crouched, whispering, or pleading, something in a low voice. It was almost unnerving to watch her come undone.

Your gaze was torn from the sight when your uncle grunted. He was crouched right beside you, tying your other cousin’s shoes. Your cousin’s small hands were splayed across his back as she tried to balance herself.

“Danny boy, you’re with me,” he finally said. He looked over his shoulder and up at your brother. “We’ll run the rest of the way. It’s just a few blocks.”

You furrowed your brow, stepping forward quickly. Danny’s hand was still locked around your arm, but he made no move to stop you nor speak for himself. “Wait, what?”

Your uncle turned his attention back to the small white strings in his hands, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with the small shoelaces. “I know we said we’d get the car checked, but it should run just fine. We’ll come back for them in five minutes, tops.” His head was nodding before he even finished his sentence. “Yeah, yeah. Five minutes. Tops.”

“You can’t be serious.” Since he made no effort to acknowledge you, or to look at either of you again, you turned to your brother. “Is he serious?”

Danny was chewing on his bottom lip then, staring down at your uncle with eyes that did not seem in the least bit alarmed. “You sure about the car?”

“Positive.”

“It’ll run?”

“Should.”

At that point, your chest started to heave. Slightly, but heave all the same. A thickness suddenly but slowly started to coat your throat, like someone had lodged a softball right between your esophagus and windpipe.

Danny might’ve been calling your name, but, if he was, you couldn’t hear him. In seconds, he was dragging you backwards until you were pressed into the wall of the closest building. It was some worn-down bar. Your shoulders dug into the brick. “You have to stay here. Okay? With Aunt Lorraine and the twins.”

And that did it – that truly jolted you. “No,” you protested, hands coming up to grip your brother’s forearms. Now it was your turn to dig your fingers into his flesh. Anything to keep him there and grounded, right beside you, where he belonged. “You can’t just leave me.”

“I have to. We can get the car. Skirt downtown and be on our way to Indiana.”

“What about the military?”

“We can get away from them.”

“How?”

“We can.”

“It’s the military,” you deadpanned.

For a moment, you could almost make out a brief glint of humor in his eyes. The side of his mouth perked up, threatening a smirk that always drove you crazy whenever he found hilarity in situations not in the least bit hilarious. But right now, in this moment, it lifted whatever burden was trying to settle like a rock in your chest. Your brother was still your brother. And, to you, he’d never leave you.

“We just can, alright?” He reasoned. “We have to.”

“Well, what happens when we get to Indiana? What if we can’t find a place to stay?”

“You let me worry about that.”

“But, that’s the problem, Danny. You don’t worry about these things.”

You finally broke eye contact then. Pools of tears were beginning to form, blurring your vision and making everything around you swim.

“Well, that’s why I need you, isn’t it? Gives me an incentive to actually come back for you.”

You scoffed, a slight sniffle leaving you as you did. “As if you’d ever leave me behind.”

“Hey, we need to go, kid,” Your uncle said.

Afar off, he had long since stood and was waiting for your brother at the mouth of the street. When you turned toward him, he looked away, chancing a quick look both ways before exiting the shadows entirely. He loitered there, clearly waiting for Danny to join him.

Your brother had completely ignored him, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “Exactly. That’s why you have to trust me when I say I will come back.”

When you returned his gaze, his eyes were as earnest as you had ever seen them. He was telling you the truth and trying his hardest to make sure you believed him before he took off. You did, of course, but something was making every nerve in your body hot and every hair on your head stand. Something wasn’t right.

“I trust your word, Danny, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” 

And something told you he didn’t mean himself and your uncle. 

He urged himself forward, pressing a hard kiss to your forehead. He stayed there for a few seconds, crushing you to his chest, before abruptly letting go. He determinedly strode down the street, meeting your uncle on the sidewalk with a firm nod. 

Before he disappeared, he turned once more to you and added, “I’ll see you again.”

–

Austin, Texas. September 2003.

If Joel could give voice to the crushing weight of a broken heart or the sudden unwillingness to yield to the innate response to keep going, he still wouldn't be able to properly identify it as true sorrow.

He still couldn’t quite pin it – anger, disbelief, pity … guilt. Everything had happened so fast, as they always do. But never to him. Calculations and planning, pure thought – the things he was used to and relied heavily on simply because they worked – were nothing compared to the devastation of unpredictability – of spontaneity, the unexpected. As cruel as fate could be, as cruel as life itself could be, there was very little possibility that it could bring about something like this – to take something so pure, so innocent, as a life. A child’s life.

A life for a life, he determined.

“Swear?” Sara had asked. Long ago now, it felt like. Something about a birthday cake, but the softness in her voice had sent Joel’s heart pumping with love and affection.

“On my life.”

A woman screamed somewhere to his left. His brow twitched, and, for the first time, he became semi-cognizant of his surroundings. A makeshift medical camp was teeming with victims, families, military and doctors alike, swarming and descending around him. White lab coats and camouflage armor were a hazy swirl as frenzied bodies wheeled grocery carts, gurneys, wheelchairs, beds – anything they could find – all through one Austin plaza. 

For one second, one split second, Joel could vividly picture himself and Tommy driving by here on the way to pick up supplies not even two months earlier. He had been laughing, then. Shaking his head at something his brother had said to diffuse his anger for having been late the morning of.

Joel had been clutching a juice box then, too. A ‘good source of vitamin D.’ It felt small and strange in his hand at the time. Foreign. An odd replacement to the coffee usually growing cold in his tired grip. But he had promised her. Even when she threw a smile over her shoulder and clamored out of the truck to bound across her school’s parking lot, he didn’t let the box go until he’d drunk it all. Even when the memory was fading now, lost to a couple of weeks and now permanently overwritten by the last time he’d dropped her off, Joel could still feel the box. 

Small. Strange. Like the last image of her now boring into the backs of his eyelids – curling and uncurling her failing grip in his t-shirt with every gasping breath.

Out of nowhere, a woman screamed again. Not loud enough to startle him from whatever depth he was losing his footing in, but still loud. Loud enough to draw the attention of nearby soldiers, who rapidly trained their weapons toward her. They didn’t shoot. They didn’t stand down either.

The woman was on her knees in the middle of all the chaos. A nurse unknowingly side-stepped a soldier and nearly tripped over the wailing woman. She didn’t notice of course. She just knelt there, rocking and shrieking. It took a moment for Joel to notice the small body she was clutching in her hands. A girl. Straight, dark hair thick and spiraling, down her mother’s lap and nearly sweeping the concrete. Her legs were dangling, bedazzled skechers limp and uncanny. There was a trail of blood leading from a misshapen wound – like indents left from teeth – on the girl’s left calf. 

He looked away.

“Joel.” A voice came. Hardly recognizable. Seconds later, Tommy appeared in front of him, hands gripping his forearms and eyes pleadingly searching Joel’s countenance with growing anxiety.  “Joel, c’mon now. Talk to me, brother. Say something.”

He did say something, though it didn’t quite reach Tommy’s ears. He was muttering, balancing himself on the perch of the old gurney beneath him and rocking himself slightly. 

“On my life,” Joel muttered, continuously, trapped in an earlier memory. An earlier conversation. With the only one who mattered.

“Alright, well,” Tommy started, dropping one hand as he scanned the surrounding area. “We need to get you something to cover that hand.” He turned his attention back to Joel, leaning down and pushing forward to take up Joel’s entire field of vision. “I’ll be back, you hear me? Don’t move.”

He was gone almost as fast as he came. At his words, Joel’s eyes dropped to his hand, the one he’d been unconsciously cradling in his lap. Blood dripped, unceremoniously, down the valley of his palm and onto the cracked pavement under his boots. He vaguely remembered lashing out at some guy before being ushered into the camp. In front of some convenience store. He had landed roughly, shards of glass impaling his skin before Tommy got the chance to haul him up and press him to keep running.

There wasn't a single part of him that felt it, though. The gaping wound – the whole ordeal – seemed like a hallucination, like something plucked from the deepest, most submerged part of his consciousness. Something hardly thinkable. Something vicious and unnerving. Something that simply couldn’t be true.

“Dad … Daddy!”

Joel jolted awake. A stray frosting tip fell from his fingers and rolled across the floor until it hit the edge of Sarah’s heel. His vision swam with exhaustion, drowsy eyes sweeping over the kitchen table. A half frosted cake, a bit lopsided and slightly whiter than the yellow version advertised on the box. A frosting bag filled with purple frosting resting precariously on the edge of the table, inches from his hand now numb from laying on it.

In sudden alarm, he turned back to a curious Sarah. “Baby, I –.” When she met his gaze, he just sighed, dropping his shoulders. “What’re you doing up? It’s late.”

“I saw the light,” she said simply.

She bent down, retrieving the frosting tip before ambling over to his side. He watched her every move, weighing every option that popped into his head about what her expression meant. Child-like innocence. Brief reminders of every year he’d spent enjoying her life right before his eyes.

The small gears were shifting in her head; he could see them from here. She was eyeing the cake, if he could even call the mound of crumbled blocks a cake. Her gaze momentarily slid toward him as she neared him. She stopped at his side, a small hand on his thigh indicating her intent. He pushed his chair back, hands easily guiding her up and onto his lap.

“What’re you doing?” She finally asked.

“Figured I’d try my hand at baking. Construction’s getting slow these days. What’d you think?”

His voice was casual, but he was anything but. He had worried his lip in the aisle of the supermarket just at the thought of buying the wrong cake decorations. The moment of truth had come too soon for him. If he hadn’t been so damn tired, if Tommy had gotten the supplies earlier and hadn’t caused the job to go until ten – 

“It’s pretty.”

Her voice startled him, laced with joy and, what seemed like, pleasant surprise. Her back was leaned against him, and he could just make out her face, angled slightly away from him. She was smiling softly at the poor imitation of whatever he’d bought. The only store left open had been out of cake mix, of course. A woman in the aisle with him explained how easily he could make something close to it with this. Easy for her was hell for Joel, but he couldn’t put a price on Sarah’s smile at that moment.

“Thank you. Tried real hard on it.” He was trying for humor, but he meant every word. His attempts were born from a real place – a place that desperately wanted to see her light up the way she did when he forced himself to sit through her favorite movie, when they decorated the Christmas tree early last year, and when he finally let her drive the truck on Tommy’s lap.

The two looked at the excuse for a cake. It was leaning now. A small portion protruding from where Joel attempted to make a flower out of a mold.

“Is it –,” she paused, cautiously, but hopefully, picking her next words. “Is it for me?”

“‘Course, babygirl. This masterpiece of a cake ain’t for just any eight-year-old.”

“I’m not eight yet,” she reminded him. “Except,” she paused again, frowning. “My birthday’s tomorrow.”

“You always wake up so early. Thought I’d try to surprise you by fixin’ it tonight.”

She stared a bit longer before nodding decisively and throwing an arm around his shoulders. She twisted in his lap, eyes and smile beaming up at him. “I would’ve slept in for you.”

Luck. It had to be luck. Joy, devotion, trust, unquestionable love. A child’s eyes swim with all of the above, and one child in particular, his child, was looking at him with all that and more. Her tightly-wound curls framed her small face and swept her tired eyes, but her expression remained the same. Joel’s heart twisted at the sight.

He cleared his throat, hesitant to speak with the growing lump in his throat. “You would’ve pretendin’ to, anyway.” He rose, maneuvering her until he was carrying her comfortably against his hip. “C’mon, now. It’s late. Gotta get to bed if you want your gifts.”

Abruptly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, daddy.”

He smiled, part of him worried his eyes were growing wet. “Anything for you, babygirl. Happy birthday.”

Joel was torn from his stupor at the sight in front of him – the sight he’d been staring at while reliving a memory he felt fading almost as fast as he began to remember it. It was a boy, barely old enough to be a teenager. His tear-stained cheeks were nothing compared to the way his eyes rapidly and wildly scanned the area. His gaze hit Joel’s for only a second before he was moving on.

“Dad!” he was shouting. “Dad!”

The boy was turning in circles, looking every which way and shouting into the sea of unknown faces. Every so often he was jostled by complete strangers – unnamed faces covered in weaponry, medication, or grief. One man bumped into him so hard he nearly lost his footing. It didn’t matter. It didn’t stop his shouts or his turns or his wild eyes cutting through the masses of people.

“Dad!” 

“Dad … Dad!”

Joel turned suddenly, new reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose and hands gripping a cup of coffee – fresh seconds. His elbow was propped against the kitchen table he had been occupying for the last hour, mountains of papers and file folders splayed across the tabletop along with a black pen resting atop an unfinished tax document. With Sarah now in sight, his eyes briefly scanned the backyard through the patio-door window, where he’d last seen her playing soccer with Tommy. 

His brother, of course, now leaned against their fence with a shit-eating grin on his face as the woman he was talking to from his neighbor’s yard threw her head back in laughter. 

Of course.

Joel’s eyes turned back to Sarah, breathing in feigned annoyance. “What? Jesus, you keep calling my name like that you’re gonna dad me to death.”

She snorted. “If I wanted that, I’d do it more like this – Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Da–.”

“No, now that’s more like it.”

With a shake of her head, and a small smile, she wandered closer to him with a simple, “What’re you doin’?”

“Takin’ a break from you.”

She ignored him, stepping close enough to peer over the table. Normally, Joel would shoo her away with an obvious hint that she shouldn’t concern herself with whatever was his job. He didn’t like her looking or hearing about their situation in any way, good or bad. She was supposed to be thinking about soccer and school and zoos and the fair he and Tommy were taking her to later that week. Not any of this.

After a moment, he finally did; he abruptly moved forward, reaching and shuffling the papers into a messy stack.

“Nothing you have to worry about, honey, it’s –”

“Line eight E is repeated three times.”

He froze. “What?”

“Line eight, letter ‘E.’ It’s repeated three times.” For emphasis, she pointed down at the document closest to her.

Joel picked up the paper, letting the black pen slide off of it and land with a soft thud on the paper beneath it. She was right. There was no denying she was right. “Huh.”

“‘Sometimes it’s good to have a second pair of eyes,’” she quoted him, turning and strolling to the cabinet to retrieve a bag of chips. He’d told her that when he let her replace the axle nuts on her bike tire. She’d sworn the nuts wouldn’t rotate until he came over to help. The sentiment worked then, and it was working now. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself, Dad.”

He gave her a look, brows furrowing, but her back was turned. She busied herself pouring chips into a bowl. He tried for humor again, responding, “I’m never by myself. I got Tommy breathin’ down my neck every day. He’s all the help I need.”

The only indication of her response was a slight shake of her head, curly hair brushing, back and forth, between her shoulder blades. A quiet huff, something close to a laugh, escaped her.

“We’re also out of milk.” She threw a reply over her shoulder casually, very obviously avoiding turning around.

For a long moment, his eyes were still trained on her. It took a mental connection, a moment of realization, for his brows to lift slightly. His gaze slid over to a purple sticky note hanging diagonally on the refrigerator. Her frilly handwriting, turned cursive upon entering middle school, etched out ‘Get milk from the store!’ in large letters.

“That’s what the note on the fridge is for?”

She remained silent but finished making her snack, ambling back to his side and taking a seat in the chair beside him. There was no need for her to respond, but Joel’s nerves went into overdrive at any and all underlying insinuations. Was she worried about something? Worse yet, was she worried about him?

“Where’s all this coming from?” he continued.

She shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. “You just work so much. More than usual. I just thought – Least I can do is help you some.”

“You really wanna help out around here, maybe you can finally get a job,” he tried, verbally poking fun. “Pick up a few hours.” 

“Oh, ha ha.”

She briefly smiled at him, but the act ended as soon as it began. It was clear something was bothering her. Worry was etched between her brows, and it was then Joel realized that’s how she’d been looking at him all month. Eyes wide and deep with concern; brows furrowed with a tight smile that didn’t seem quite as natural anymore. His heart nearly broke, and he cleared his throat to hide his upset.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I work a lot, and I’m not … around as much as I used to be. I’ll do better. I will. But there’s nothing you need to be worryin’ about.”

She only nodded before adding a soft, “I know.”

“Good. So you also know I love you, babygirl. Not much I wouldn’t do for ya.”

“I know.”

“That all?”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I love you too, dad.”

“That all?”

“Well, I wouldn’t wanna ‘dad you to death.’”

“Oh yeah,” he teased, leaning forward to swipe a few chips from her bowl. He flung one towards her, grinning when a laugh erupted that she couldn’t quite contain. Popping the rest of the chips in his mouth, he warned, “Stop playing with your food.”

The sound of laughter, even from a memory, felt jarring, too rich and too pure for the dark scene unfolding around him. He was long-since aware of his eyes growing wet, and, for once, he didn’t care. Couldn’t bring himself to fear or worry about it. He just stared – from the shrieking woman to the shouting boy to the wide, suddenly imposing, city landscape in the distance. It all felt void, lacking meaning in a meaningless world. 

What was to be gained from this? What did any of them gain from anything?

Someone ran by, bumping into Joel’s gurney and swearing a harsh apology in the process. Or maybe just swearing. He couldn’t quite place it, and he didn’t try to. But the action was enough to remind him of his being; his body felt weightless as he drifted from distant memories to distant memories, deliberately failing to grasp one long enough to replace the bitter nightmare threatening to replay itself, over and over again. Maybe if he’d twisted the other way. Or took a chance on running. Or held her a little tighter. Or –

The gurney suddenly felt rough where his hands were gripping the edge, knuckles white and blistering. Now he could sense pain from his open wound. And maybe that was the point. To sense, to feel, something other than what was threatening to send him spiraling. The recent events were still forming pictures in his mind. Consolidation taking its time as depictions kept reordering and restructuring themselves. Building and tearing down again. It was like his brain refused to settle on any one experience.

Because they were all wrong. It was all wrong. It shouldn’t have happened. Not like this.

Emotions had yet to hit him like a brick wall, and, quite frankly, he didn’t want them to. Not now. Not ever. Sensations were returning, sporadically. There was only one he settled on. He vaguely remembered Tommy slipping a handgun into the waistband of his jeans earlier, telling him he might need it before hoisting him to his feet and pushing him to run. To run like his life had depended on it. Even if he was forced to leave his entire life – a child – lying on the cold ground behind him.

That was the sensation he focused on: the hard lick of metal curling its cool touch against his lower back.

-

Chicago, Illinois. September 2003.

Waiting is just as agonizing as not. You still couldn’t quite decide if you wanted time to go faster or to go slower. You were, however, determined to maintain as much control over the situation as possible. If Danny could manage a calm head, so could you, for his sake and in his absence. You made sure your aunt was comfortable, reassuring her with a few pats on the shoulder after she’d sunken to the ground. Your cousins kept near her, staring up at you with pure curiosity.

You wondered if they understood, or just how much they understood. For their sake, you hoped they hadn’t a clue. If their silence was any indication, you were sure they were fine, probably more so worried about their mother’s – your aunt’s – tear-stained cheeks than anything else.

You tried your best not to glance at the street entrance every minute, but your head was on a swivel. Time itself seemed to stand still. How could you not wish you could do the same? Stand still, as if holding your breath might make it easier to hear your brother’s footsteps come back to you. His footsteps – loud, heavy, familiar.

That’s what you were thinking about when your uncle stumbled through the mouth of the side street he’d left you in. A purple bruise was forming on the lower left side of his jaw. A streak of blood ran across the chest of his gray shirt. Most disturbing of all, he was completely and utterly alone.

“We’ve got to go,” he said.

He hurried right by you, taking long strides towards his family. After checking his wife and daughter, he crouched and busied himself zipping his son’s jacket.

“Where’s Danny?” You asked.

The question hung in the air – thick and unanswered. He ignored you. Easily. His eyes remained pinned to his son’s body as his fingers fumbled, first with the jacket and then with the cuff of his son’s jeans. 

“Where is he?” You were still calm, then. With no answer, you pulled back and stepped cautiously toward the end of the street, looking down where he’d come from. When no one else came by, you returned to your place a few feet away from your family. “Where’s Danny?”

All action and thought cease to exist when laughter brings forth pure, adulterated delight. Especially for a six-year-old child. Laughter and millions of innocent giggles bubble over and make it easy for small feet to run freely. Untamed footsteps can easily fall in line with grass and get lost to rows and rows of trees.

Lost. So, so lost.

You stood in the middle of a clearing. At some point, your laugh had burned down to a chuckle, then to silence, when you realized how far you’d made it alone. Your brother had teased you, playfully giving chase about a mile back, and you had wonderfully ran and leapt over branches and small creeks. Even climbed over a small boulder. You only came to a stop when your echoes seemed too quiet for two.

“Danny?” You called to no one in particular. “Where are you?”

It only took a moment for the beautiful chirps and snaps of branches to seem daunting, not tranquil. Terrifying, not serene. The stillness of it all threatened to suffocate you and evoke fear where you didn’t think it previously possible. You wanted to back away, but your foot had already nearly slipped on a slick mud spot.

Your eyes bounced, wildly, from one tree trunk to another. An unfamiliar feeling coiled up your back and settled at the base of your neck. The sun was starting to slink toward the horizon then. Which way had you come from? What would happen if you didn’t make it back home? What if Danny had gotten hurt, and you hadn’t both to hear him or stop for him? Had you left him somewhere?

“Danny!”

There was no answer. Only the distant sound of water trickling over rocks and another quick snap of a tree branch waving in the wind. Hot tears trickled down your face as you dropped down, sitting and pulling your knees under your chin. You were lost, but, above all, you had lost your brother.

“Hey, little sis, look what I found!” You nearly jumped out of your skin, twisting around to see Danny stepping around a bush and joining you in the clearing. He looked up to proudly present you with a small frog, cupped carefully in the palms of his hands. “Wanna name him?”

For a moment, you stayed right where you were. A soft cry escaped your lips, but there was an early sense of relief flooding every part of your small frame. You still hadn’t relaxed your furrowed brows or the frown that wound tightly on your face. Fear had gripped you, and you were beginning to realize it was the hardest thing to shake.

It only took Danny a second to realize you were crying, and only a second longer to bound over to your side and drop to his knees. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He set the frog down on a dry patch of grass before fixing an intense stare on you. “Did you fall? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, sucking in a breath and releasing a broken sob. “I – I thought you were gone.”

Danny’s shoulders dropped a bit. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He reached out and set a hand on your shoulder. “I would never leave you, okay?”

You nodded, and he dropped his hand. He let you take a few breaths and calm down a bit before he stood to his feet. 

“I think we should go back now. It’s getting dark.” He stuck out his hand, pulling you to your feet when you slipped your hand into his. “Do you remember our secret handshake?”

“Yes.”

An easy grin graced his features once more. “Good, you can show me when we make it back home.”

He moved to leave, but you pulled him back. Your hand fell from his and pointed down at the frog. “What about the frog?”

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t have a name.” He stood back and looked at you expectantly. “I think we should call him Rex.”

Danny nodded, pretending to be lost in thought for a moment. He tapped his chin with the tip of his finger before smiling down at you. “I like Rex. It’s cool.”

Your smile returned, and you skipped out of the clearing, grabbing Danny’s hand as you went. That’s how it was, and that’s how it should be, when an older brother is so near – when another’s presence soothes the quiet that only loneliness can bring about. Your tears had dried and a glimmer of tranquility returned to the noises in the air and the stillness of the environment. A feeling of safety returned soon after, too, and the discomfort of fear had fallen without your notice.

His word was enough: I would never leave you.

You half expected him to scare you like he had when you were children. To step around the wall and stumble towards you, completely oblivious to your worries and concerns about his whereabouts. You would berate him, maybe smack his arm or chest for sending your nerves into overdrive, but you would most likely pull him into a hug and look him over for any bruises. You kept glancing in the direction of the street, waiting for an arrival that would never come.

“Where’s Danny?”

“Honey,” your aunt tried, giving your uncle a sincere look that read: Please answer your niece.

He ignored her too, setting his hands firmly on his son’s shoulders and giving him a nod. He looked at his son intently, probably trying to reassure him with just one look. With the state the world was currently in, words were starting to fail. All anyone could do was offer some sense of familiarity in gestures and in looks.

But that wasn’t enough for you. It never would be.

In desperation, you moved to grab at your uncle’s shirt. “Where is he? Where’s D–.”

Your uncle stood abruptly, whipping around to face you. You were nearly chest to chest as he leered down at you. “He’s not coming back.”

Your response was immediate, taking a step back as if someone had punched you squarely in the chest. “Wha– What?”

A long, silent moment went by. You could just make out the screaming crowd now nothing but a soft, inaudible sound to your ears. Your uncle dropped his gaze. He looked almost guilty for not being able to offer you the reprieve you were obviously searching for – the answer he just couldn’t give you.

“He’s not coming back, kid,” he said, softer this time. “I– I’m sorry.”

He turned, picking up his son and grabbing his wife’s arm to hoist her up with him. Your aunt held her daughter close to her chest, unable to meet your eyes. There was another moment of silence between you all. They stood there, uncertain. Your uncle refused to meet your eyes for longer than a second, flitting his gaze from you to the street behind you. It was the sound of another military vehicle that finally made him straighten his posture and look you in the eye.

“You need to get out of here. It’s not safe out in the open.”

He turned to jog further down the street, in the opposite direction of where you’d all entered originally. That’s when your aunt offered you a sincere look. “Come with us.”

You made no effort to move. Your feet were cemented to the soiled street; Your eyes still glued to your uncle’s distressed countenance. His words were the only thing you heard: He’s not coming back.

“C’mon, Lorraine. We need to go.”

“We can’t just leave her here, David.”

The military truck came louder now just as the backdoor to the bar slammed open. A man stumbled through the door and landed in a heap of tangled limbs on the ground. A low growl escaped him as his hands fisted the concrete, and he doubled over, twice, in obvious pain. His brown hair was awry, fingers caked in something you couldn’t quite place. The back of his shirt was ripped in various places, and his veiny flesh was exposed; skin long since too inhumane to not deserve the look you gave him. Your eyes blown wide and jaw slack.

The man’s head snapped up, wild eyes looking directly at your aunt.

“C’mon, Lorraine!” Your uncle shouted louder, backing away and pulling his son tighter to his chest. “We gotta go now!”

Your aunt stayed there, frozen in fear. You took a step back, foot catching in a small puddle and sending the man’s horrid attention barreling toward you. The break in harsh scrutiny was all your aunt needed. She took that moment to hug her daughter close and sprint after your uncle. Their retreating footsteps hit like lead to your chest, every step sending you reeling backward as your chest heaved with something closer to alarm than fear.

The man shrieked, scrambling to his feet and running toward you. For a moment, your eyes slid to your aunt and uncle’s distant figures just over his shoulder. A part of you half-expected them to chance a look back, to answer their curiosity about you and your wellbeing. But they didn’t. They didn’t spare a single look, even when they turned sharply and disappeared around a corner.

A deep pain began to throb, harsher now, from the spot Danny had been gripping your arm. The man was within arms length now, hand reaching out to grab that same arm – the arm Danny had held protectively in place.

Your body reacted quicker than you did. You weren’t sure you would’ve reacted at all, if not for the slightest inkling, the slightest hope, that Danny was still out there, somewhere close. Who would come for him if you didn’t?

With a surprised yelp, you turned on your heels and sprinted toward the street entrance – toward the street Danny disappeared down not even thirty minutes before. Gnashing teeth and a horrible stench followed you closely, squirming and throwing itself at you like an animal. You had made it only a few feet in the street before the man tackled you to the ground. Pain erupted from your knees and elbows as you fell with a sharp cry.

A hand pulled your hair, clothes, arms, just about everything fingers could find purchase. You twisted sharply, coming face to face with the man. His teeth came dangerously close to your face and, on instinct, you brought your forearm up to his neck, pushing him away with as much strength as you could muster. You gritted your teeth, but a scream soon ripped from your throat as his upper body pushed further and further down on you. Closer and closer until – 

A shot rang out, and the man’s body went limp.

–

Austin, Texas. September 2003.

The finality of acceptance had still escaped Joel. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to take anything in that moment as truth, no matter how outlandish it might have been.

Two white coats rushed by, stopping mere feet away. Even among the chaos, their conversation was easy enough to overhear.

“I have a dad asking after his kid.”

“Everyone’s asking after someone.”

“Yeah, but she was here when they arrived. Apparently lost her in all the confusion.”

“Take him to triage. A lot of missing kids there. We just revived one.”

Joel looked up at the new truth being presented to him – a truth that was far easier to accept than the one bombarding his current experience. His feet were carrying him away from his spot of refuge before he could even think. In fact, he wasn’t thinking. He was scanning for her. Curly hair. Eyes looking for him as much as his eyes were looking for her. 

We just revived one.

If there was a possibility she was here, he was willing to take it. He had already accepted that possibility as fact without his own notice. His heart was elated and his chest was rising just at the thought. It was easier, fairer. And in no way was he preparing, or thinking to prepare, for the inevitable crash that always took place when attempting to deny reality.

“By nine, Dad.” Sarah hopped out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. She went to Tommy’s side, hand clamping down on the opened window and eyes boring into her Dad from where he sat in the passenger seat. “You said nine.”

“I know, I know.”

She opened her mouth to add something, but the bell cut her off. She huffed in resignation before pointing at the two of them, each in turn. With a growing smile, she waved and ran towards her school, throwing a quick “Don’t forget the cake!” over her shoulder.

Just as Tommy pulled out of the lot, his eyes slid over to his brother, and his face twisted into a wide grin he couldn’t hide even if he tried. “Jesus, that kid loves you to death.”

At that, Joel couldn’t hide his own smile, even if the weight of Tommy’s words felt heavy on his shoulders. “Yeah, I know.”

A content quiet fell between the two as Tommy maneuvered out of the school lot. Once he was back on the road, his eyes drifted toward his brother a few times before he shook his head. He always did that when something was on his mind but didn’t know quite how to approach it. Especially when it was Joel he was trying to approach.

“I tell you what, Joel. You gotta cut back.”

Joel was no stranger to the topic Tommy was attempting to bring up. He knew he was working like a madman again, picking up projects and stumbling into the house late at night often long after Sarah had put herself to bed.

Still. He acted oblivious. “What do you mean?”

“Sarah, man. You gotta cut back. Spend more time with her. I know you mean well. You want to provide for her, protect her. I respect that, Joel. Hell, everybody sees and respects that. But she’s still young. Still needs you. It won’t be like that always. She’s got a bright future ahead of her. Nothing’s going to take that from her. From you. Nothing’s going to change that. You don’t have to work so damn hard just to keep it that way.”

Joel didn’t say anything, but he offered his brother a brief nod when he glanced in his direction. They both knew he was right.

“Besides,” Tommy continued with a teasing grin, “you need to get a hold on her before she gets too much older. If she’s anything like we were, they’ll be hell to pay.”

Joel grunted. “Nu uh, my Sarah’s too smart. I ain’t worried ‘bout nothing.”

“You say that now.”

“And I’ll say it then.” Joel nodded decisively. “It’s like you said, she’s got a bright future ahead of her.”

“I know, brother, I know. All I’m saying is that you should make the most of it now. These years will be gone before you know it.” Tommy turned to look at him, more intensely this time. “She’ll be gone before you know it.”

The children were many, but the number that resembled her were few. The child they had revived was a boy no older than four and had been revived for reasons unbeknownst to Joel. The inevitable crash of secret humiliation and embarrassment at his own deception led him to a corner, away from the frenzy and uproar in the camp. Two soldiers stood, with their backs toward him and weapons drawn, with their heads on a swivel. But they paid no attention to Joel. Even with the cool metal resting in his hands, safety off and finger poised at the ready. They still paid him no mind. He might as well have been a dead man.

Should’ve been, anyway.

On my life. Not yours, babygirl.

With that thought, he was ready for anything that might come after. Truth be told, he was more than ready. He wanted to pull the trigger, so he did.

But he flinched. Even before the bullet had left its chamber, a part of him was wholly certain that any shot or amount of lead was not meant for him. It was a destiny he was never meant to share, no matter how much he wanted to.

–

Chicago, Illinois. September 2003.

Four pairs of hands were on you and hauling you to your feet before you could reassess your situation any further. The body slid off of you as you were pulled to your feet; its weight made a sickening noise as it thumped to the pavement at your feet. You were being dragged to an armored truck filled with people – men, women, children. Greedily, you scanned the faces for the only one that mattered. Maybe they’d got him. Maybe they’d saved him, too.

There were a lot of people, but none resembled Danny.

Finally, something broke – anger, bitterness, nauseous … mostly anger. You dug your heels into the pavement, nearly sending one soldier tripping over his feet at your sudden protest. You took the moment of surprise as an opportunity to rip your arm free from his grasp, shoving him away and clawing at the hand still clamped firmly around your other arm. You tried desperately to free yourself, scratching and pulling like your life depended on it. Like Danny’s life depended on it.

“No!” You shouted. “No! Get off me!”

Your doorknob rattled before your brother let himself in, closing the door softly behind him as if he hadn’t already made a world of noise just by entering.

“Jesus,” you started, sitting up in bed, “don’t you know the first thing about knocking?”

“I’ll knock when you stop stealing my sweatshirts from my room.”

Childishly, you stuck out your tongue and crossed your arms. “Fair.”

Without missing a beat, he took three long strides toward your window and looked out, smiling down at something. Undoubtedly his friend’s car, waiting for him in the driveway. “I’m heading out.”

“When are you not?”

“Just open the window for me when I get back, alright?” You got up to join him by the window as he opened it. “I won’t be too late this time.”

“I’m starting to think you like asking for trouble.”

He turned to smile at you – soft, mischievous, winning. Your brother could just as easily ask to leave the house, but he preferred sneaking out. He was defiant just to be defiant, doing so in a way that still made him agreeable and likable. Roping you into his mischief was like a sibling rite of passage, as he put it.

Despite yourself, you smiled back before watching him clamor out of your window. He crouched on the roof, turning to flash you one last smile. “Don’t forget my knock.”

“Three knocks.”

“Always three so you know it's me.” He winked.

“You say that like anyone else would be knocking on my window at one in the morning.”

“You’re right. Because you’re lame.”

“Go before I push you off the roof.”

He grinned widely before turning and inching his way toward the edge. He immediately stopped when you called his name.

“Danny,” you said softly. He looked over his shoulder. “If anything ever happens, don’t be afraid to call the house. I’ll come get you myself if I have to.”

“What could possibly go wrong?”

“I’m serious, Danny.”

“Relax. I know my fearsome sister will always come to my rescue.” He gave a mock salute before jumping down to the lawn. He ran toward the idle car before turning back toward you, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, “Three knocks!”

When the soldier had recomposed himself, he walked back toward you and yanked your arm, much harder this time. Your outburst drew the attention of the others on the vehicle. A mom pulled her child closer to her, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was still out there, missing, and not a single person seemed to give a damn.

“Get off me!” You screamed again, voice breaking as a tear slipped down your cheek. In frustration, you sent a swift kick that the soldier sidestepped easily. “Get off me!”

One soldier finally let you go as the other wrapped his arms around you, pulling you off your feet and carrying you the rest of the way to the awaiting vehicle. Your struggle was rendered useless as he carried you with ease, tossing you onto the truck like you meant nothing. You probably didn’t, not to him and not to anyone. But you knew you meant something to Danny, and you weren’t going to go down without him. Not without a fight.

You pushed off the bed of the truck, attempting to scramble off of it and back onto the street. “Danny!” You shouted, pushing a stranger out of your way and making a quick jump for it. “Danny!”

You were sure you were still calling his name, even when the butt of a gun connected with the side of your forehead.

–

Austin, Texas. September 2003.

The sound of a weapon firing draws a lot of attention. Namely from uniformed soldiers who were to make sure all civilians had been thoroughly searched and weapons properly confiscated before entering the medical camp.  The mistake was sure to cause one of them trouble, which is probably why they tackled Joel with such ferocity. He was on the ground and surrounded by military and medical personnel before he could blink.

Tommy was shouting his name again, parting the crowd roughly as he clawed his way to his brother. White bandages gripped in his hand. He was searching for him, relentlessly, before catching sight of the commotion. All the while, Joel was calm. The realization hadn’t dawned on him yet; the adrenaline of the deed he was trying to commit had not yet worn off. He was delusional with the loss of will – his volition having been stripped from him through no effort of his or anyone else’s. 

For a second, he let himself believe he was dead. Like some instinctual force hadn’t just caused him to flinch.

Someone hoisted him to his feet; all while someone, most likely Tommy, was shouting, “Don’t shoot him! Don’t shoot him!”

A doctor stepped forward. She flashed a light in his eyes. “Sir. Sir? Can you hear me?”

A trickle of blood slid past his peripheral. It dawned on him that the commotion around him was real – it was happening – and his unfocused eyes finally snapped toward the soldier gripping his arm. His unfeeling expression hidden under his helmet felt familiar. Too familiar.

“Joel,” Tommy warned. He knew his brother well enough to predict his intent. He stepped forward, cautiously, trying but failing to shoo the soldiers and doctors back. He momentarily looked between the wound on Joel’s head and the discarded gun on the ground. He hesitated, partially, but hesitated all the same. “He ain’t sick or nothing.” Tommy turned from the doctors back to Joel. “Joel, listen to me, brother. Let’s get you patched up, alright? Let’s ge–.”

Joel was swinging before he knew what he was doing. He lunged, kicked, and swung wildly, nearly ripping himself from the awkward grip now three soldiers had him in. They were strong; non compliant. They wrestled with him for a moment before another doctor ushered him away.

“Here,” the doctor was saying, “bring him over here.”

 “Careful, I said he ain’t sick,” Tommy butt in, grimacing at the hold they had on his brother. “Joel, calm down. Everything’ll be okay, Joel. Just — Just calm down.”

The soldiers were dragging him to a nearby gurney. A few medical personnel were preparing a syringe somewhere off to his right. He sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight, and every single thing he was doing was an indication of that. Somewhere, deep down, he could hear his brother. Calling for him to stop. Calling for him to settle down before they did something to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Maybe they should do something to him. Put him out of his misery. Or subject him to the same fate they subjected her to. It was a cruel thought that they’d spare him – that they’d do everything in their power not to hurt him in the way they hurt her.

They were wrestling him onto his back when his mouth finally caught up to his actions.

“My daughter!” He shouted. “My daughter. You took her.” He leered in the face of the nearest soldier, tears glistening in his eyes. “You took her.”

A needle was being pressed into his skin when a third voice spoke to him, calmly. Another doctor. “Don’t worry, sir. We’ll find her. I’m sure, wherever she is, she’ll be alright, if she’s not already.”

His next protests were weak as his body suddenly relaxed. His eyes fluttered just as Tommy came into view at his side. Tommy just stared at him. Horrified. Guilty. Sad. They both looked at each other, eyes mirroring one another and telling stories neither one of them were ready to say aloud.

–

2023.

The consequence of grief and sudden loss might be unique to the individual, but it is imminent for all individuals. No one can measure the actions or reactions of another. Neither can blame be given or taken away. The repercussions of any event are often cyclical, far outweighing descriptions or explanations. In any one situation, one might fall and another might rise. Or perhaps one and another might both fall. 

With loss, it’s typically the latter.

Joel’s gruff appearance was unmistakable to the people in the Boston QZ. Unsurprising. Like the rumor that swirled around about him after the day’s shifts ended and the people could return to their nightly rituals of whatever placated their poor souls — beer, pills, sex. The former two either stolen or traded for rations.

The rumor didn’t spread far — not past a block, maybe a sector at most. It was a cautious one. A woman told of her inability to toss a child’s body to the flames during her shift. An unforgiving job. A thankless act of service to the QZ that meant discarding the ones killed at the hands of those in authority — by Fedra. Infected. Suspected. Guilty (or not). Didn’t matter. Her story was one that stoked plenty of bitter, angry people who already hated the QZ for their wrongs and misdoings.

But it was Joel who stoked their feelings too — feelings of fear and avoidance. Wordlessly, he had tossed the lifeless child into the awaiting flames with as much absence of emotion as he always displayed. Unfeeling. Unapproachable. Never spoke a word but was somehow enough all on his own – enough to cause others to steer clear, to look away whenever he came around. 

The only one that could tolerate him, that could placate him, was Tess. Something she could use to her advantage and soak in the pleasure of.

Nearly a thousand miles away, you were pacing wordlessly outside a freezer in the back of a restaurant in downtown Chicago. A bitter cry had long-since been muted by the sounds of grunts and a flurry of punches before a familiar face stepped out. He didn’t say anything, even when he walked right by you and wiped his hands on a dirty rag.

You did as you always did — followed at his heels. “I don’t trust this guy, Dallas. He’s lying.”

“You never trust anyone.” His face was serious, but his voice carried humor. You rolled your eyes.

“And for good reason. He’s been lying since I found him by the old medical camp near Lincoln Park.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

He turned to look at you, eyes boring into yours for a few seconds. You were dropping your gaze before the intensity of it all could get too thick. For a moment, your attention bounced around the small kitchen. Your ears caught the quiet voices of your group outside — a good mix of men and women. 

Dallas turned fully, tossing the rag on the floor and standing in front of you with arms crossed over his chest. “What were you doing near the old med bay?”

“I told you.” Your voice had a dangerous edge to it. You shifted your weight to your other foot and finally met his gaze again. “I ran an errand.”

Unconvinced, Dallas nodded. “You were looking for him again, weren’t you?”

He commanded and barked orders well. You usually followed them — usually. But even he wasn’t stupid enough to mention his name aloud to you. Your sibling’s name was never spoken again after you revealed to Dallas that dark night twenty years earlier. But Dallas knew this was about him. He could tell in the way a muscle in your jaw jumped, and you looked away briefly. 

He chuckled. Dark. Low. “Look, I get it. You haven’t been back here in years, and I figured the thought of finding him’s been tempting you since Arizona. But you keep putting the group at risk, and I’ll have to abandon you.”

You snorted. “As if you’d leave me behind.”

“Watch me.” 

He was grinning, a certain humor in his tone that wasn’t in the least bit light or airy. There was nothing indicating that he wasn’t as serious as his darkened eyes meant to be. Something twisted in your stomach, heart plummeting, as your smile dropped at the thought. Only a moment went by before you forced the feeling away, choking the thick emotions down until the only thing you could feel was cold metal being pushed into your hand.

“If you don’t trust him,” Dallas muttered, stepping closer to you as he pressed the gun into your limp palm a bit firmer, “then end it.”

You swallowed quietly, taking the weapon and testing its weight without once looking up at him. You could feel him hovering over you. His heat dripped off of him and pooled at your feet. Deep. Menacing. Unforgiving. His request wasn’t the first time, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. But this time, this one time, some part of you felt off. Something tugged at your lips until you unknowingly frowned down at the tigger your finger hovered over. 

Maybe it was the mention of him. Maybe your emotions were too high and your willingness finally waning. Maybe it was the sister waiting back at the old medical camp, looking for the brother you helped kidnapped and now held hostage in some worn-down freezer. 

“Is this really necessary?” You asked. “If he’s really lying, we can still use him.”

“And have them get to him? He’s a damn liar, sure, but he’s a traitor first. He knows what we did.”

“Yeah, but he did the same to them.” You finally looked back up at him, gun held loosely at your side. “For us. Remember? What else did we expect? For him not to turn on us, too?”

Dallas was quiet for a moment, a long moment. But the way he was peering down at you, with hooded eyes and clenched teeth, didn’t change for a second. “I’ve never stopped to question you. We are the only two here. I never left you.”

You knew what he was referencing. Suddenly the group just beyond the thin white door separating the kitchen from the dining area seemed too close, too imposing. Every person in your group was a new face. Their voices were still unfamiliar and discomforting to hear. Your old companions were either dead or dying, snitching to Fedra for brownie points or taking their chances on their own, and Dallas was all you had left...

 He measured the look on your face before leaning in further, adding, “Now’s your chance to prove your loyalty to me.”

Your eyes snapped up at him, mouth now partially agape. Everything you had done leading up to this point had been erased by that measly sentence. Your actions, however gruff and unforgiving, were whittled to nothing before your eyes, and you were made out to be a fraud. Weak. Someone incapable of returning the favor of protection or dishing it out in the first place. The thought made you sick.

With a low huff, you spun on your heels and walked determinedly back to the freezer. You threw open the door to find your old partner, Brett, tied haphazardly to a chair surrounded by two of your guys. At the sight of you, his eyes were blown wide and head shook furiously from side to side. He was shouting something: No. No. No— please, no. But you were already gone, doomed to proving what you had already proved time and time again.

It only took one steady aim before you pulled the trigger.

Your men stood, jaw slack, as Brett’s body fell with a sickening thump. Your knees suddenly felt wobbly as adrenaline seeped from your body in waves, nearly doubling over as a pain hit your chest. You sniffed, waving the barrel of the gun between the two men before pointing it in Brett’s direction.

“Clean this up.”

Perhaps — for you and for Joel and for anyone else — the mind and body’s first instinct is denial. Perhaps sorrow cannot be given a true voice. Perhaps acceptance is far more brutal than the precious time one can spare living a half truth. Whatever the reason, manifestations of pain and suffering matter little when grief goes unnoticed and the heart unattended.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #the last of us #thelastofus #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #fanfiction #joelmiller #tommymiller #tlou #the last of us tv show

[lxdyred]

New people in town | Ch. 2 Sneak Peek

Chapter 1 - New people in town // Chapter 2 - How to disappear

Joel Miller x Ex-lover!Reader (She/her), OC!May Miller x Mom!Reader, Tommy Miller x Reader (Platonic af)

Summary: In which a girl discovers how the new man in town — who was accompanied by another teenage girl — and her mother were closely and intimately related once, and how almost two decades after they last saw each other, their reunion could possibly turn their worlds upside down.

New people in town playlist ✨

A/N: English is not my maternal language, Spanish is, so I will take advantage of that in the future lmao. Also if you see any grammatical error, please let me know!

Tag list: Open!

Feedback is appreciated! ❤️

"Joel- I... Joel." Red whispered, taking a step towards Joel, who was looking intently at them, but now mostly at his daughter. "You're here." He whispered. May clung to her mother's arm, just like when she was little.

"You're alive." Joel said in a stern, distant tone.

"You doubted I was?" His words hurt her deep down.

The doubt offended.

"Considering you left suddenly and I haven't heard from you in almost two fucking decades? Yes. If you're offended that I left you for dead, that's not my problem."

"I did what I had to do for my own good, Joel." Frowned the woman.

"Don't give me that. Not now." The man with the last name Miller mumbled. "You left to have a kid — my kid, I assume — out on your own? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"We were nothing, not even friends. We were just using each other to warm each other's beds!"

"And that's a reason to leave without warning?"

"I left you a letter, where I explained everything."

"A letter." Joel mumbled with a certain tone of disdain, which was accompanied by a small cynical chuckle. "A very mature, not at all pusillanimous way for you to disappear overnight. Just like that."

"Fuck you, Joel."

"That part you did 20 years ago, darling. But yeah - whatever you say! That doesn't take away from the fact that you're a fucking quitter!" Joel exclaimed as he stepped forward, approaching both women.

May was quick to jump up and stand in front of her father, interacting with him for the first time, defiant, motivated to protect her mother. "Shut the fuck up, asshole! You disrespect my mother like that again and I swear to God I'll knock your teeth out."

Joel was momentarily stunned to hear the teenage girl say those words to him, without hesitation, without any fear whatsoever. It really surprised him that his first interaction with his daughter was like that. A small part of him blamed himself for it, for the situation had gotten a little out of control. Still, he quickly pulled himself together and turned his attention to his ex-lover.

"I didn't owe you anything! Not a single explanation, still I left you a letter doing so. But yeah, I do not owe you shit! Not before, and certainly not now, do you hear me?" Red exclaimed between her teeth and with tears in her eyes, pointing a finger at Joel. She felt powerless, hurt and very angry.

"You owe me one. She has a first and last name, and she’s right now, standing and breathing, between you and I."

"I insist. I owe you nothing."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x original character #joel miller #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x platonic!oc #ellie williams #joel and ellie #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x oc #tommy miller x platonic!reader #oc x reader #lxdyred #angst #fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #spoilers #hbo the last of us #tlou #the last of us #tlou fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal!joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #hbo!joel miller x reader #new people in town #i’m gonna cry

[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 21}

Pairing: Post-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader

Summary: After an explosive fight the night before, your trio gets ready to depart from Jackson. Finding yourself back on outside the gates, everything seems different. But then again so are you, so are your circumstances.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical angst, canon typical violence, use of weapons, use of guns, use of machete, fighting, violence, reference to previous injuries, reference to past traumas, ptsd symptoms in both joel and bean, self-depreciation, super fucking sad moment in scene two of this one, MAJOR ANGST, yelling, conflict, emotional baggage, talk of outbreak day, medical jargon, reader has a lot of thoughts on a cure for the virus, existentialism

A/N: inspiration for this chapter was 'let it burn' by shaboozy. these two have grabbed a hold of my thoughts and i am writing pages like a mad woman. bean and joel mean so so much to me. hopefully it's all coherent, please let me know what y'all are thinking! i know it's a mess for these two right now an the content is angsty and may be triggering in this part of the story. my inbox is always open, love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

The morning came quickly, no sleep having been found under the cover of night.

You couldn’t have dosed off for more than a few minutes at a time, an hour at the most spent on the cusp of awareness. That in-between state where you were immobile, and your mind tried it’s hardest to let you slip under but just shy of lying about. It was warm, that was the only consolation of the house offered to you for the night. It wasn’t another night sleeping on the frozen ground and hoping the temperature didn’t drop or the windchill robbed you of breath and feeling. Of constantly waking to check if the other sleeping bags were still rising and falling with the even breaths of those inside.

Sighing, you reached out across the empty bed to stretch out your arms from the curled up position you had adopted. But you sat up suddenly when the spot your hand had reached was warm. As if someone had been sitting on the edge of the bed. As you did so, a thick blanket you didn’t recall seeing when pulling the covers back pooled around your waist.

You heard the front door open and close, but no footsteps came further into the house. Not Tommy coming over to begin the day, but his brother departing on his own.

He must’ve returned after you hid away for the night, biding his time until things calmed down enough for him to enter the house undisturbed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pictured him laying the blanket over you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as you slept.

Of him setting on the edge of his own bed, consumed by his thoughts and feelings that had to be so overwhelming he had decided to self-destruct and tear everything around him down in the process.

It hurt. It hurt to picture him alone by his own creation, but still feeling the desire to make sure you were comfortable in wake of that.

 But it didn’t mean anything, it couldn’t. He had made it his mission to find the words that would hurt you the most and use them against you. To use your own insecurities against you, point them out and use them as a way to rationalize this course of action. Rationalize abandoning you, you and Ellie.  

Joel.

Joel was standing beside one of the horses, the stall gate open as he fastened a saddle to the tall creature, tightening the buckle to make sure it was secure. The horse snickered, signaling to him that you were approaching if your footsteps hadn’t reached him quite yet. When he turned to look over his shoulder, you felt your body twitch, fight or flight activated in a visceral way.

You immediately dropped Ellie’s hand. She reached for it even as her own emotions fluttered up and became overwhelming. But you stepped away, nearly knocking into Tommy in the process.

When he looked up from his task completely, his eyes met yours and you turned on your feet and walked away without a second thought. Your name followed, but you didn’t turn back. A chorus of your name sounded all around as you fled the stables on shaky legs, face hot and heart thudding painfully hard in your chest. Head dizzy with the brief encounter of a man who you hadn’t expected to see ever again too much after a fitful night.

A hand closed around your arm and you thrashed against it, whipping around and landing a punch on whoever it was right in the middle of their chest.

“Get off of me!” Terror colored the air, the pure feeling of being trapped. Of being touched by someone who you didn’t give permission to. But the person moved toward you, grunting from the force of the hit you had landed on them, breath being drawn back in to recover. Their arms came around you, cradling you to their chest and hands holding the back of your head as you lost the feeling in your limbs. Body going slack in a last-ditch effort of self-preservation.

The person didn’t expect that, and they lost their footing, knees hitting the ground hard when you jostled along with them. But they tried their best to not let you land on your own numb limbs. You could barely hear anything over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears, your own name being called out softly not breaking through. Eye blinking rapidly, you tried to clear your blurring vision, though it wasn’t from tears. You had exhausted all of those last night.

“We gotta stop, darlin’.” Joel’s somber tone finally broke through, his voice thick with tears he wasn’t letting fall. They were a shine in his beautiful eyes when you looked up at him with an unfocused gaze. Vision blurring and sharpening in a rapid succession. His own softening when he realized you were barely there, barely present under the direct attention he was giving to you now. You watched the wrinkles around his brow furrow, deepening as he tried to coax something, anything out of you.

But you were unable to comply, unable to give him anything else. He had taken everything already, burned down what he didn’t like with vicious words that had festered all night. Taken ahold of you and ruined the rest. You had nothing for him anymore.

“I-I can’t keep feeling like my chest is gonna cave in every time I lose sight of you.” He murmured into your hair, leaning down to speak only to you. Distantly, you were aware of the watching eyes of Ellie and Tommy, just inside the threshold of the stables. Both uncertain of what to do, if they should separate you from each other or let this play out. Joel was holding you with such care, such caution and it made them both pause. “My breathing gets stuck, it hurts, darlin’. Feels like knives when you get hurt, spreads all over my body, it numbs me. When I can’t help you, when I can’t see you or reach you, call you back to the present. And that’s not good, we both know that.”

“Joel…” You cautiously treaded, voice sounding foreign and so unlike your own even to your own ears as they steadily cleared. Unsure why he was doing this. Now, of all times. He had already made his case, tore you down as he self-destructed. But he was trying to explain now the reason he had done so in such a catastrophic way. Just like how he was trying to make amends with Ellie, giving her the choice he had so selfishly stolen from her on the same path of destruction just the night before.

“It’s not…it’s not easy. And the further we’ve traveled, the more time we spend out here. It’s just…it’s not something that can last. And for that, I am sorry. I-I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I fired at you yesterday, you have to know that was all projection. You are strong, you are capable, you are so god damn smart, darlin’. But…it’s not…” His gloved hands were strong on the back of your head, on the small of your back despite the way they ached in the cold of the early morning. One last hold on you before he let you go. You knew him, you could read him, and it was too real of an understanding that he was trying to spell out for you now, even through the fog taken over your entire being.

You had known, deep down. That the feelings didn’t mean anything, even if you acknowledged them. They didn’t change anything, didn’t alter the dynamic, only gave it a depth that was dangerous.

“I’m the one who isn’t strong enough, can’t move fast enough. Can’t keep up with everything thrown our way to get here or what’s to come. But I would try until my last breath, darlin’, please believe that. And that’s the problem.”

“Because you do feel something for me.” You didn’t argue, didn’t try to call him out. You simply wanted to understand, the hurt of his words still rooted deep in your mind and heart.

“…yes.” He finally admitted, finally decided to be honest with you about what had begun to develop over the journey here. But it didn’t bring you any joy now, to know that the man felt for you the way you had begun to felt for him. It was damnation, he had been correct in his description. Because you both knew that clinging to that spark was far more dangerous than trying to cultivate it into a fully grown tangible thing. It would prompt the most resilient of things from you both, violent in their tendencies and ugly in the worst ways if picked up upon by others. Leverage to use against one or both of you, something that would bring about death.

“Okay.” Was all you could say, face calm despite the storm raging inside of you. It was breaking, beginning to wane and soon it would disappear. It would leave you empty, a gaping hole in the thick plaster you had slathered and smoothed over yourself in order to make it in the world as it was today. Having already been torn down once by a man with careful words and hands, capable of helping you to create something when nothing seemed to matter.

He had given you hope, but the man standing in front of you now was different. Joel wasn’t feeding into the same notion, instead adding his own layer of solution over the walls he had stumbled through in clumsy motions. He wouldn’t be helping you to dismantle it, too afraid of what it would mean. Too afraid of what it would symbolize in this world. So unlike the man before him, but so similar in the ways that he had nestled himself into the confines of your heart.

Your arms didn’t feel like your own as they reached up and snaked around his neck, your legs didn’t feel like your own as they moved to straddle one of his own and give you purchase to embrace him back. Your lips didn’t feel like your own as they met his in a chaste kiss. A goodbye that wasn’t bittersweet, but venomous. His tears finally fell, dampening the skin of your neck.

Overcoming the disastrous events of yesterday would take time, something of a luxury neither of you had. He was trying to make amends, trying to make you understand. That’s all he could do, was try. And all you could do in return was take the heavy stones he had tied around his limbs and loosen them. Let them fall away and take them on yourself so he wouldn’t have to carry them. You had before and you could do it again.

“I can’t go with you.” You whispered, lips brushing against his as the words sprouted from you. The truth too painful to admit at full volume, too painful to say at all. But you had to. You had to tell him you understood it was the right thing, that he understood it was the right thing. Distance. Perhaps long-lasting separation that turned into only once knowing each other.

“I know.” 

He helped you to stand back up, putting distance between you both as he walked back into the stables. Tommy trailed after him, both men giving you a moment with a confused and concerned Ellie. She was too young to understand that despite the apology, the bridge had been burned and it was only one of you who would take her to where she needed to go.

You turned to her, not wanting to do this, not wanting her to see how hurt you were but knowing that whatever she did glimpse, it was absolutely not aimed at her. “I’m not mad at you, Ellie. I just…I’m not good enough to get you where you need to go if he’s there. And he’s not good enough to do it if I’m there. He made it clear as crystal he has one care he’s allowing himself in the world and it’s you.”

“You’re being selfish! I know he’s an ass. He yelled at me too, but look! I’m trying, I’m giving him a second chance. Why can’t you?” Her words were sharp, cutting into you like the blade you wielded and you took each one without a grimace.

"Ellie, that man is your future. He will protect you until his last breath. But we can’t all travel together again.” Your eyes moved from her deep frown and her hands gripped tight on the second bag that dangled by her legs to the figure of Joel leading a singular horse out of the stables. “I have so much care and love for you, but it’s not a good fit. All three of us, it was always supposed to be him, Ellie.

I’m not able to protect you, I’ve been out of it most of our trip, unable to do anything without his help. He’s the one who can get you there, he’s the one who is capable. I’m so sorry for making you feel like you could count on me, I’m not the one to place your bets on. He is.”

"So what, it all meant nothing? The whole fucking journey here didn't mean anything to you?"

"Ellie, please listen to me and hear me, it meant everything to me. but it's past and there are some things I have to take care of."

“You’re just gonna leave me? Like he tried to, like he regrets trying to do. But you’re actually gonna fucking do it, huh? You’re a real piece of work. So much for sticking with me. Fucking liar.” She stalked off, refusing to hear anything else you had to say. “Go, get the fuck away from me! I never want to see you again!”

Joel’s hand curling around her shoulder as she crossed the threshold of the stables made them the perfect wounded pair and you turned your back on them as they began to walk away, hoping that this was all for the best. That you were making the right move.

You were still at the stables when Tommy returned, his pack still over his shoulders but his rifle was missing. He was silent as he entered the stall you were readying a horse in. It was a beautiful animal, with white and brown patches all over. You figured the coloring would help you to blend into the landscape easily, having a long journey ahead of you.

“Where will you go?” Tone so unlike his brother, though the twang of a Texan accent curled around his words all the same.

“Home.” You grunted as you tightened a bag to hang from the saddle, the pack holding a small collection of camp kitchen supplies. Maria had tried to give you as much to work with as possible, not wanting you to starve or be without a source of heat should more storms greet you outside the gates.

“And where is that?”

“California. Should’ve gone back a long time ago, but…things never worked out.” You could sense the curiosity in him, so unlike his brother who hid his emotions. He had been nothing but kind to you, even if you hadn’t directly interacted with him. But if he was related to Joel, he was a good man. Indulging him, you found yourself opening up to him with more directness than you had with anyone before. Wanting a lifeline here in Jackson should you find your way back here. “Tennessee was home when the Outbreak happened, stuck around there for a while….then found myself in Boston. I remember catching glimpses of you with Joel, every so often. And then suddenly you disappeared. Wasn’t ever sure what happened, but I figured a loss is a loss.”

“Yesterday was such a hectic day. With falling on your arm and everything…will you be okay?” He followed you out of the stall, out of the stables, the horse letting you lead it leisurely along. Two shadows waiting close by, a horse already saddled and ready beside them.

“I hope so.” You offered him a soft smile, grateful for his concern.

“Will you be okay?” His inflection changed, eyes looking between both of your own as he moved closer and placed a hand on your shoulder. You sighed, trying to shake the thoughts of what happened today from your mind, knowing they would be revisited tonight when you try to rest.

“I’ve done pretty good so far, think I can manage to get over your big brother.” You knocked his shoulder with your own. His arms suddenly came around you in a hug, his chin hooking over one of them and nearly knocking your hat from atop your head. But you didn’t flinch, too worn out to fight against comfort if someone wanted to offer it to you. With warmth blossoming in your chest, you let your head lean into his own and closed your eyes.

“Thank you.” His low voice was strong, emotions strong as you hesitantly returned the sudden embrace. “Thank you for helping get him here.”

“Thank you for being alive,” You whispered back, the worry of how this all could’ve turned out weighing heavily on you even in of luck and chance. Of the sheer determination Tommy must’ve exhibited to not only leave with the Fireflies all those years ago, but to actually leave the organization and not find himself on a hit list. That he found refuge here in Jackson, a life here in Jackson, it was all so overwhelmingly wonderful. For a man who had been down so many wrong paths to find a good one to travel on after so long. That it allowed him to not only survive but live, given him the opportunity to reconnect with his brother.

Given him the chance to make something out of the wreckage of this world that would last.

“You have a home here.” He leaned back, arms still around you as he looked down at you, trying to find the right words for a goodbye that wouldn’t add weight to the events since arriving. “Maria likes you, sees you. I like ya just based on the fact that you’re not afraid to holler back if someone comes at ya. Can throw a hell of a right hook too. We’ll be here for you, whenever you decide to return.”

You nodded once, allowing him to help you mount the horse and followed that morning’s patrol through the town and toward the gate.

The railroad was easiest, so you stuck close to it when you could. The open land setting your nerves on high alert, there was no coverage out here on the plains. But you were hoping that the advantage of having a horse now would allow you a good head start if someone tried you, the rifle on your shoulder too. Maria did well, giving you everything you might need. More help than you could have ever hoped for, including the map you had found in the pocket of your new coat, detailing the route Joel and Ellie would be taking.

You had stood still for a long while, beside the horse you had let loose to get a drink from a small creek. The map tight in your gloved hand as you stared out toward the expanse of Colorado. The state line between Wyoming and Idaho close by, only a few minutes travel. Torn between moving in the opposite direction of them, worried for them and the possible threats that awaited them. But they were strong, stronger without you. They would be okay, you had to hope they would be okay. Tucking the map back into your pocket, you clicked your tongue to get the horse to come back to you.

Mounting it easily, you made your way west and crossed the state line.

Night fell and with it you hunkered down in the mild protection of the woods. The horse laying down and allowing you to lean up against their warm body, one blanket thrown over his neck to help stave off some of the cold. You had your sleeping bag curled over your shoulders, unzipped to make a small shield against the biting chill, but even with all the supplies and advice and kind words Maria had offered you, you were still utterly and completely alone. The fire crackling in front of you did nothing to warm the cold that had taken root in your chest, not born of the weather. It would only defrost with the snickering laughter of a sarcastic teenager, in the rumbling chuckle of a stoic man, in the lightness they both inspired in you despite the endless circumstances that decided to rain down upon you all.

Your heart ached for the gruff grunts Joel would make when settling down for the night, either in front of the fire for an imitation of a family dinner or for the attempt at getting some sleep for the evening. But it was a thing of the past, something you wouldn’t hear again. Alone. Completely and wholly alone. A sentence of your own making, a reality brought on by your foolish naivety that you were now subject to. Journey now shrouded in the selfish need to seek answers to questions that had plagued you for far too long.  No longer intertwined with that of a brooding older man who had space in his heart enough for a girl who hid her pain behind terrible jokes. No longer a part of that dynamic, unsure if you ever were supposed to even be a part of it in the first place but having forced yourself into the fold when faced with returning behind the walls of the quarantine zone.

Spit back out in such a damning way.

Sighing, you stretched a boot out to stamp the small fire out. Shrugging tighter against the horse behind you, prompting them to turn their head and snuff against your hat in a teasing way. He was a good animal, easy to direct, willing to follow, gentle. But still, you were alone. Surrounded only by the bare trees of the wilderness you had to cross.

It was the fifth day after departing from Jackson when the universe decided you were ready for it to pick back up the punches. Tracking your progress on the map as you tried to calculate how many hours or steps it would take to trek through the dense woods that would get you through the state of Idaho and into the desert landscape of Nevada. It had been a discussion, between you and Maria, which route would be the most logical.

Either to gear up impossibly so in order to endure the remaining time of winter through the pacific northwest and make your way south through the long state of California to your hometown. Or to put up with the snow and ice for the duration of traveling through a corner of one state before finding relative refuge in the desert landscape that made up most of the south west part of the country. It would mean more exposure through the desert, but it would also mean lesser chances of running into people or Infected. More reliance on supplies and rationing.

After admitting that you weren’t very fond of the cold, of winter in general, maps of different states had been brought out from where they were collected in the council’s meeting place. She had allowed you to look them over, wanting to give you the best chance she could at accomplishing what you were set out to do. To help you, to help you find what you needed to in order to move on and begin to heal on your own terms. A journey she did not envy, but one she would do whatever she could to give you the best chance of returning to Jackson someday.

She liked you, came her admittance over a cup of coffee. You had sought her out in the early morning before Tommy had awoken to ready himself for the task his brother had desperately asked him to take over. Maria had been awake, her kitchen light visible from the house you were in across the street. Not having the courage to bother her otherwise in the wake of being torn down so completely by someone who you thought had accepted you. Hesitant to reach out and force a connection with the woman who had a literal commune’s worth of worries on her shoulder, paired with the ups and downs of pregnancy in a time where every aspect of it was washed in uncertainty.

But she saw you. Most likely told of the disastrous confrontation that had happened by her husband. Perhaps seeing you more then than she had previously.

You had initially planned to take Ellie to where she needed to go, staying with her for however long it would require hearing the Fireflies out. To apply logic and statistics to their case of proposed action with Ellie now in their hands. With her blood and tissue at their relative disposal in order to run tests, to assuage that she truly was immune in tests and medical procedures that would warrant a solid base to work off of. You weren’t being honest though, with either Joel or Ellie. You didn’t think it was possible. You didn’t think the creation of something so expansive that it would eradicate the very real and adaptive being of cordyceps would be easy, if at all possible. In this lifetime or the next.

The world had shifted. And there was no way to turn back the hand of time on something so complete and expansive. The world had decided what the new order was, the best way to endure it was to adapt. Alter ways of thinking to align with it, accept it. Hell, cordyceps had found a way to adapt in a relatively short twenty years. Evolution almost fast tracking in order to preserve itself for a longer duration. Another thing to consider when thinking about overcoming it. Adaptability meant survival, and if it was fast acting then surely it would find a way to take on elements of a vaccine or cure and circumvent the attempt.

The issue didn’t lie solely in the science and medical proficiency of the staff, but in the resources that it would take to even jumpstart such research. Ellie was only one person, so young and developed into her own mindset, she would’ve listened to them. Turned to you for your opinion, your guidance.

And you would’ve been honest with her then. In the face of whatever plan the Fireflies had concocted up while playing the waiting game. Playing the hoping game. That she would have to most likely remain at their facilities, if they even had any up and operating on the level they would require for such an egotistical task of altering the shift the world had deemed to make. That she would have to give herself over wholly to them, to their ministrations. That she could weaken her immune system in the process, fall victim to some other illness or virus in the efforts to find one for the outbreak. That it would be a shadow of a life, with no guarantee that it would make a difference, let alone a universal one.

That you believed it was hopeless.

And then you would’ve told her of your hometown, beginning the journey in that direction with the determination to show her the other coastline. To help her find another meaning for her life to have worth. Even if it was simply being alive. It meant so much these days, to simply be alive.

Though your thoughts were zoned out on an endless play of ‘what if’ ‘then what’ that didn’t matter anymore, you were on alert as you continued on. The sun trying to break through the cloud coverage in the last dredges of the day.

Just as your foot came down in another, countless step you swooped down to cloak yourself behind the fallen trunk of a pine tree. Ears straining and chest hurting with the effort to quiet your breathing, you could hear the distant sound of branches crunching, people walking among the wooded area just like you were. One voice sounded feminine, the other masculine. It was an easy conversation between them, a simple request to gather kindling for a fire since night would fall within the hour.

They weren’t speaking English, as least not completely, the voices sounding in a mixture of it and Spanish. Familiar but yet so wedged into the crevices of your mind after years of not using your household language. Such a tantalizing siren song that would allow for easier connection with the people you otherwise knew nothing about. Closing your eyes, you felt more than the pull of a weak desire to announce yourself, take a risk of introducing yourself in much the same way.

As soon as their voices seemed to move away, you pushed yourself up from where you were hidden and turned the other way. Not wanting to be around people after the disastrous attempt of connecting with someone so fresh and painful, a weight that you’re not sure would ever lift from your mind and heart. Resigned to be a singular soul wandering around the desolate landscape of what was once the world.

You were about to turn away when you heard a shuffle far too close for comfort. Followed by the hesitant call of something you hadn’t heard in over two decades. Your name. Your full name.

Head jerking around, rifle aimed at the ready; you gazed into a pair of eyes so similar to your own.

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