Chapter Text
A trail of blood followed behind them as they fled from the cannibal town.
Joel didn’t even notice it until they’d already made it back to the house. He spared a second to lift his eyes up from the basement steps in front of them, and found the windows behind them, searching for men. Instead, he found blood. A steady, long trail shadowed their path and led right up to the front door, and then her sneakers after that. Immediately, he stiffened, snapping back to that first, terrifying moment when she’d almost bled out on him after the university.
The panic that he’d felt in that moment resurfaced.
“Ellie,” Joel choked, and sank down in front of Ellie, forcing her face to rise up from his shirt. “Look at me, hey.” Soot and tears clouded her face, over the bruises. And she looked so pale. Fuck. He couldn’t tell if it was because all she was covered with was his jacket or if it was because she was about to pass out. Either way, it made him rush. He had to stop the bleeding, and then he had to get them warm.
Joel’s eyes found the basement again. He remembered the mattress down there. Okay. At least he could get Ellie comfortable, or something close to it, if that was possible anymore.
“Okay, c’mon, sweetheart.” Joel laced his fingers with Ellie’s and then led them again, keeping his pace slow so as to match her limped gait as they approached the basement. Her hand felt so cold. All of her did. He couldn’t imagine he was much different.
Ellie’s eyes perked up for a short moment as Joel led them again. When she realized he was leading them down the basement steps, that basement’s steps, she stopped short. Her arm tugged against his, demanding his focus. “Ellie,” He questioned gently. “It’ll be warmer down there-”
Ellie shook her head, a silent interruption. She didn’t speak. She wouldn’t. Luckily, her eyes spoke for her. The bright terror painted across them, paired with an increasingly pale complexion. She stared down at the basement steps, and watched in the back of her mind as David waltzed down them, his eyes meeting hers for the first time.
Was the basement where he had…?
The breath began panting in and out of Ellie’s lungs like fumes. Her eyes stayed stuck at the bottom of the steps, lit up with terror and pure trauma. She didn’t even notice the gasps rushing in and out of her lungs, not until Joel’s face appeared before hers, blocking the image of the basement.
“Hey, hey.” Joel cupped Ellie’s face between his palms. She looked right through him, her mind hooked to the thought of the mattress waiting right downstairs. “Ellie. Look at me, baby girl. Look at me, hey.” He refocused her eyes into his, demanding her focus and prying it away from whatever had happened down those steps while he wasn’t there. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He kept her eyes in his. “Listen to my voice. You’re safe. You’re safe, It’s just us. It’s just you and me. I’m right here with you.”
Ellie pried her mind away from the closeness of the mattress. She hid away in Joel’s face, and sank a little underneath the warmth of his coat, and the weight of his thumbs brushing her tears away. She pouted up at him, whimpering; it broke him. “Breathe.” He presented his own breath for her to copy. She tried, terrified. “Just breathe with me. That’s all you’ve gotta do for me.”
Ellie listened, and after a few minutes, she was able to claw out a breath, panting still. “There you go,” Joel praised. The panic in her chest subsided a little, though the terror didn’t. She buried herself into his chest as deep as she could go, and then closed her eyes and let him hide her.
Joel frowned at the soft cries that rose up from his shirt. “I know,” He shushed, running his palm up and down Ellie’s back and soothing away the stress of the cries underneath. “I know, baby. I’ve got you. I’m right here now. Just breathe. It’s okay.”
Ellie just snuggled in as deep as he could. Meanwhile, the blood trail underneath them had continued, pooling down her leg and waiting by her sneakers. Joel frowned down at it, the urgency inside of him relit. “Okay,” He relinquished softly. “C’mere. Just come with me.”
There was a couch not far from the house’s front door. He led them to it, the entire time mourning the suddenly near future of restitching his baby’s side closed. Again. His heart ached. Again, he wished he could just take the pain for her. He couldn’t.
Ellie’s bloody footprints followed them to the couch. Joel laid his jacket down atop one of the cushions so that it’d be warmer for her. His coat was still draped around her shoulders, the only thing covering her right now. She’d barely said one word since he found her, nothing more than his name, mumbled and small. Her eyes were so empty, the light that had filled them a week ago almost extinguished. It looked so permanent. Fuck, what if it was?
Joel shook his head.
Stop the bleeding.
Blood painted Ellie’s side. It ran down into her jeans, which were still tugged down an inch or two, a fact that made Joel’s stomach lurch. The denim was soaked red on her left leg, matching the trail that they’d left behind. She was bleeding, she’d probably lost at least a few pints, but just judging from her face alone he’d never even know. She looked so numb. His expression wilted, but then he shook his head again.
Stop the bleeding.
“Okay, I’m gon’ lift this up, baby,” Joel warned, his hand waiting by the edge of Ellie’s, his, coat. He was knelt before her, his face opposite hers.
Ellie didn’t answer. Joel turned his eyes up at the silence, frowning. “Hey.” Nothing. “ Ellie. ” He pressed his hand against her cheek; the warmth of his skin drew her gaze over. She seemed so blank. Again, he frowned. “Hey,” He repeated softly. “I have to lift this up for a second.”
Ellie followed the warning and stared down at her jacket. Joel’s jacket, really. Without thinking, she shook her head.
… don’t touch me.
A panicked memory of her own voice, screaming those three little words out over and over again to no avail, returned to her. She sank.
“Ellie,” Joel pleaded. “I’ve just gotta tie this bleedin’ off so it stops.” He brought her hands down from where they were clinging to the edges of his shirt. “Hey. You can do it with me. You hold my hands the whole time. How about that, honey?”
Ellie’s expression foiled. It looked like she was about to cry. Joel felt like it was his fault. He sank under that guilt. “I know, sweetheart.” He brushed his thumb over the coldness of her cheek, giving her a little scrap of warmth. “I know this is the last thing you want to be doin’ right now, I promise. But I’ve gotta stop this bleedin’.” His expression softened. “Please.”
Ellie just slanted her eyes down, defeated. “... mm,” She mumbled weakly under her breath, an impression of a yes, and also the first almost-word she’d uttered yet other than Joel’s name.
Joel’s expression softened. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the top of Ellie’s soot-dusted hair, like an apology. “Hold my hands,” He offered as he leaned back. She was too tired, so he took her hands for her, and let them follow his own as he tugged up the edges of her jacket. He winced. The stitches in her side were completely torn, no doubt ripped apart while he’d heard her screaming. The wrinkles in his face deepened at the memory.
Ellie peeked down at her ripped stitches. A look of pure exhaustion settled in her face. “... do you have to do it again?” She waited blearily.
Joel frowned, enough of an answer, which he was thankful for, because he couldn’t actually make a verbal confirmation come out of his lips. Ellie’s screams from the last time he’d stitched her up were sounding between his ears, a preliminary torture to the exact same task that was waiting ahead. “I’m sorry,” He managed. Her face sank down, no longer meeting his. “I know you’re tired-”
“... I’m okay,” Ellie interrupted softly. Joel’s expression saddened. “... I don’t… it’ll stop on its own.” It was like she was trying to convince him, an attempt to settle an agreement to just let her bleed out here if that was what it took to not be handled or hurt anymore. She was so tired. And what was it even worth?
Joel felt his heart sag. “Ellie,” He mourned. He clasped his palm against the side of her face, allotting her a little blossom of warmth to steal. She leaned in, so fucking tired. “It’s gon’ be okay.” His voice was soft and strong and gentle, like the strum of a guitar. “I promise, baby.” She let her chin sink down, tired. He brushed away the tears that followed. “Just let me fix this. Then you can rest.”
Ellie sank down in defeat, a nonverbal ‘fine’. A ‘whatever,’ really.
Joel frowned at it, and then dug that goddam needle and thread out from his backpack. Ellie pouted at the sight of it, and then laid back, her knees tucked up tight while the rest of her sank back onto the old sofa cushions beneath her. She looked completely away from him as he lowered his hands, preliminary agony displayed over her face as she remembered how much this had fucking hurt the first time.
“Try ‘n stay still, baby,” Joel begged softly. His voice already sounded like an apology. He was staring down at his own flesh, like he was praying that he could sew himself instead and still make it work, but he couldn’t, so he focused on her again.
Ellie just turned her face away, staring up at the dirty ceiling above them behind a hot layer of preliminary tears. As soon as Joel let the needle pull through her skin, she cried out in pain, the sound weak and tired like her, and immediately shrank all the way up on the sofa. His arm blocked her from moving too much, the tension in his weight a dead give away to how much it pained him to do so.
“I know, sweetheart,” Joel chanted sadly, the entire time not letting himself slow. Make it as quick as you can, he ordered, rushing carefully through each suture. “I know. We’re almost there.” Each whimper that Ellie let out physically sank into him, deepening his wrinkles. “Almost there, baby, almost there,” He just kept whispering that, letting all of the guilt and mourning in his voice spill out in those two chanted words like they’d fix everything.
They didn’t.
Ellie kept on crying. After too fucking long, Joel pulled his hands away; the needle went with him. Immediately, she curled all the way up, hiding the fresh stitches in her side from him with her own body like she was dreading the pain that his hands brought. His heart sank at the sight.
How could she ever run to him after all of this?
How could he ever be her person?
How much pain had he dragged her through in just one week?
What a fucking parent he was.
“C’mere,” Joel mourned. He leaned forward, remembering how clingy Ellie had been after the first time they did this. “C’mere, baby girl.” As soon as he reached out, she scooched over, burying her forehead into his shirt while still staying curled up on the sofa. He frowned, and brushed his palm over the back of her head, calming her messed hair. “I promise we won’t have to do that again.” He knew he couldn’t say that. Still, he did. She needed it right now. “... no more hurtin’.”
He couldn’t promise that either.
Couldn’t even say it, because he could feel how tense she was against him.
Still, he did. She needed it right now.
Joel let his eyes fall down to his own coat, covering Ellie alongside barely anything else. “How ‘bout we wash all this off your face and then get you into some new clothes, sweetheart?” Into any clothes, he thought quietly, his expression soft.
Ellie was cold enough to immediately nod her head, a newly uncharacteristic alertness. She sat up after. “Easy,” Joel commented softly, frowning down at the wince that claimed her face. “Let me get this all off you first, baby girl.”
Black soot painted Ellie’s face from the fire. Paved through it, there were tracks of tears, and also blood, some hers, some not. Joel took a wet cloth to it, his pressure gentle and tender as he brushed it all away. She stared ahead, dead-like. “There we go,” He commented softly. “Now I see your face again.” He tried an attempt at a smile, but it didn’t fit. “Let me get you a shirt now, honey.”
Ellie sat quietly and watched Joel turn towards her backpack. She rubbed her palm against the dried layer of tears and smoke on her face. Her face died at the thin, small-sized sweatshirt that he emerged with. “... c… can I have one of yours?”
Joel’s expression softened. “Mhm,” He granted immediately. He returned with one of his own sweatshirts, much larger and thicker. It swallowed Ellie as she slipped it over her head. She seemed content with that. “Do you wanna get in some of your pajama pants too now, honey?”
Ellie actually almost melted at the idea. She bobbed her head again, only barely not leaning into Joel and cuddling again. He felt so safe, so warm, so everything that the past two days had been devoid of; the complete opposite of David in every way possible.
“There you go.” Ellie cuddled in after she changed out of her clothes. The pajamas were soft on her skin, like Joel’s sweatshirt. She peered out from the new safety of his chest, pouting down at the crumpled ball of her jeans thrown across the room. She could see the blood hidden in the dark denim. She turned her face into the soft cloth against her cheek, sparing herself from the image. A few tears slipped down in the process, followed by a volley of soft cries.
Joel frowned. “Shh,” He soothed, burying Ellie deep in the safety of his arms. She clung on, content. “I know, baby girl.” He brushed his palm over her hair, soothing away the tightness that he could feel claiming her whole body, like a pulled muscle. “You’re safe now.” He’d fixed her side, but just with the glimpse of her jeans, everything else was so much more permanent. He couldn’t imagine how blaring that probably was. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. I swear.”
Joel felt Ellie capture one of his hands in her own small grip. The blood on his hands smeared against her fingers. David’s blood. He watched her behind soft eyes as she explored the plentiful layer painted onto his hands. “He’s gone, baby,” He commented gently. “It’s all over now.”
Ellie shook her head in disagreement, not even realizing. “... everyone else isn’t,” She protested softly, bowing her eyes.
A sagging look claimed Joel’s face. There was a mourning riddled into his wrinkles now, a quiet funeral for what he’d let be stolen in the last week. Ellie had thought everything was so interesting. She’d been so curious. Sarah had been too. And it’d been stolen from both of them. It wasn’t fucking fair. “We could go home,” He chimed softly. “Go behind those walls. You’d be safe there. I promise.”
Ellie sank, letting her back sink into Joel’s chest. He tied his arms around her, keeping her close. She was content; she was never going to let a fucking cage split them apart. “... what about the cure?”
Joel’s expression softened. “... will it matter?” He quizzed softly.
Ellie sank again. “... no,” She realized, the quickness of her answer sad. She sighed, and then snuggled in closer. “... Tess-”
“Would’ve understood,” Joel finished before the sentence was even over. “It ain’t your responsibility to fix the whole word, Ellie.” He shook his head, and then brushed his hand against hers, like he could take the mere thought from either of their minds. “Who knows if it’d even work?” He nudged after, scoffing weakly. “It ain’t worth it. Lord knows you deserve somewhere safe right now. A bed. Some walls.”
Ellie yearned for that. “... you really think it’s okay?” She pushed, nervous.
Joel’s heart melted. “It’s your body, baby girl,” He soothed. “ No one else gets to make you feel any type of way for what you want to do with it.” A tired smile curled over his lips. “‘N if they do, you unleash that trash mouth on ‘em.”
The same tired smile blew over Ellie’s face. It lasted for a few seconds, and then withered, and then flipped into a pout. Her body was hers. It was almost like she’d had to be reminded of that. The mere gladness was overwhelming.
Joel held Ellie as she cried.
“I’ve got you,” He shushed, just holding her.
“I’ve got you, baby girl.”