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-x-
They stumbled into the abandoned house and Joel shut the door, through the wood he could hear the howling winds outside. Ellie stared into the kitchen, hands by her side and her gaze farther than Joel can reach. He places a hand on her shoulder, noticing how her bone pokes his hand and how she holds in her breath. “Let's get you cleaned up.”
He leads them down the stairs into the basement where the floor is cold and the small rectangular windows to the outside have been covered up by snow. He pulls off his bag watching Ellie do the same, still wordless and empty. She grabs at her side, eyebrows pressing together and he notices her shallow breathing. “Are your ribs hurting ya’?”
She nods and sits down on the edge of the mattress, still cradling her side with her eyes pressed together, trying to breathe around the suffocating pain. “It hurts a lot.”
“How did you hurt it?”
She looks up, green eyes now grey. “He kicked me.”
Joel knows anger firsthand, he’s danced with evil before and killed so many he’s lost count. But upon the words laced together by numbness, he feels the ice surrounding his emotions melt against fire, fury boiling within him. Because looking at her, she’s so small, imagining a winter boot going into her side-
“Can I look at it? I just want to see if it’s broken.” He clarifies and she nods, moving back to lie down on the mattress wincing once again. His fingers hold the edge of her shirt, slowly bringing it up. He tries not to look at her, but he can see the tears crystalizing in her eyes as she stares at the empty ceiling, focusing on the cracks as to avoid the memories contact with skin brings.
He can see the imprint of the tip of her abuser's boot, the color shining heavy red and Joel places a light finger on the redness, feeling the fracture before Ellie groans in pain, the tears escaping. Her lungs beg for air and she takes a short breath, biting her lower lip as more tears escape.
“It’s okay, shh. I have some meds to help with the pain, but you’re going to have to be real gentle with it.”
She doesn’t open her eyes, not as he expects her too, but he pulls her shirt back down moving his gaze to the wound in the middle of her nose, bleeding and gaping. It’s not deep enough for stitches but he can strongly predict the scar that will heal there. Across her cheeks are smaller cuts and blood spatter. Dried blood in her nostrils and a split lip.
God only knows the fury he would’ve unleashed on the bastard if he had gotten there sooner. Pulling out one of the rags from his bag and dampening it with water, he gently blots away the blood on her face, tenderly working around the gash in her nose when he notices her eyebrows pinching together.
As he sets down the rag seeing her pink skin come through the grime and blood he sees Ellie biting her lip, her eyes pressed shut. It rips Joel’s heart seeing her like this, with red puffy eyes from crying and cuts on her skin, bruises on her neck and arms. “I’m gonna go get some snow to melt so you can wash off,” Joel says. “Try to get some sleep.”
Ellie nods, sniffling. “Please be careful.”
“I will- rest now.” Joel instructs, patting her knee before he stands and leaves the basement. Making his way onto the first floor of the abandoned house, he feels for the first time the pain coming from his wound- previously subdued by the high levels of adrenaline running through him.
Looking around at the messy living room, he opens every cabinet checking in all of the nooks to gather supplies, only finding travel size shampoo and conditioner in the downstairs bathroom. However, he faces the dresser blocking the stairs, taking a deep breath before placing his hands on the wood and pulling, the heavy furniture tumbling down the stairs. His wound seers with white-hot pain and he sucks in a breath, pressing his hand against the sensitive stitches.
He rests against the wall, regaining his breath before ascending up the stairs, leaning against the banister for support. Turning the upstairs corner he enters into the master bedroom first opening the door to a neatly made bed and untouched collectibles. His hands go across the dresser and inside of the drawers, collecting shotgun shells and clean, warm clothes for Ellie. He pulls the duvet off the bed, throwing it in a pile with other items he picked up and moves into the bathroom, searching for a first aid kit which he finds behind the pipe along with a towel.
“Nice.” He whispers to himself as he opens the box inspecting the interior.
Downstairs Ellie stares at the ceiling, tenderly touching around the wound on her nose, hissing at the pain. She feels different, like some part of her has gone within the hours she spent at the hands of David. Her insides churn with nausea and the more she thinks of David, or what could have been, the bile rises in her throat burning the tissue.
She tries closing her eyes to sleep, she feels exhausted, but she can’t keep them closed- always sitting up when she hears one of Joel’s footsteps or the house creaking with age. Shakily she lowers herself again, pulling the fleece blanket up to her chin attempting to spark warmth between the fabric but she fails, left with disgust and shivers.
The stairs to the basement groan under Joel’s weight and Ellie opens her eyes, setting them on the entryway to the basement smiling when Joel appears with his arms full with supplies and dragging a large duvet behind him. “Look what I found.” He says, placing the items on top of the washing machine.
“That's a huge blanket.” Ellie says and Joel laughs.
“Yeah kiddo it is. Listen, I found some shampoo and warm clothes for ya’, I can melt some snow and make a bath, how’s that sound?”
Ellie nods, tightening the light fleece blanket around her shoulders. “If you want.”
Joel smiles and settles down, gathering the leftover wood from Ellie’s fire and using a match to spark it again, warmth radiating through the basement as the flames begin to grow. Ellie watches from the mattress on her side as the flames move and combine with one another, the heat spreading to her body and thawing all of her cold fingers and toes. Finally feeling her adrenaline drop, anxiety sinking until all that's left is the pain over her body, the disgust she feels inside, and Joel telling her that he got her bath ready but she doesn’t remember him ever leaving.
-x-
She lowers herself into the bath after staring at her bruises in the mirror, fingertips tracing over the discolored skin. With every muscle submerged under the lukewarm water, she can feel the knots begin to unwind.
As she settles into the tub filled with melted snow she exhales and closes her eyes, resting her head back against the grimy tile. She used her hands to gather bubbles in her hand and rub them against her freckled arms- dirt gathering at the surface that floats away in the water.
She brings the soap to her neck, the last place he touched, and she scrubs- scratching the wet, sensitive, skin off. All of the skin gathering under her soapy nails and she continues, scrubbing until she feels like she’s clean.
But when she lowers her hands noticing the hot pain in her neck, she finds that she still feels as dirty, and nothing has changed. Wrapping her arms around herself as water dribbles down her spine she let’s go of a sob that she muffles by pressing her mouth to her knee. She’ll never be the same, always dirty. And sitting in the bathtub naked and vulnerable she can feel his cold hands going places that make her want to vomit.
Joel stands down the hall, changing his own clothes when he hears Ellie’s first sob. His heart breaks again, and he didn’t know that it even could.
-x-
“You should eat something,” Joel says as Ellie doubles up on her socks sitting on the basement floor.
“I’m tired.”
He wants to protest and force her to eat something. She looks worse than he does to a certain extent. He notices the way her sweater hangs off her, no skin to hold onto. Her cheeks have flattened, making her eyes bigger and displaying all of the contours in her face. But he understands what she’s going through and the exhaustion that lies within her, he just hopes, for her, it goes away. Because Joel can feel the exhaustion every day.
“Okay. You lay down and get to sleep, do you need anything?” He asks.
Ellie shakes her head and lies against the mattress, pulling the red duvet up to her chin and closing her eyes, letting go of a deep breath. “Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” He smiles and tucks a price of hair falling in front of her eyes, somewhat shocked at his own mindless action.
“Don’t thank me. Sleep.”
She does.
-x-
Ellie exhales as she wakes up, opening her eyes to the ceiling that reminds her of her aching muscles. She hisses as she sits up, holding her tender ribs. Looking to her left, Joel is sleeping on the floor using his bag as a pillow and Ellie frowns. She hates this.
Standing up, she makes her way up the stairs and pads through the kitchen and living room, pulling the blanket she dragged with her tighter around her shoulders. She opens the front door and is shocked by the cold air and the buildup of snow on the other houses. The blizzard has subsided, but the remains stay knee high and freezing the air.
She sits on the porch and pulls her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. She sighs and watches the breath move from her mouth into thin air, her eyes resting on the dead trees standing still amongst all of this snow.
She bites her lip and closes her eyes, the sadness, anger, and loneliness overwhelming her. She doesn’t even remember how she got here and she craves for Riley and Winston and all of her friends in the orphanage. She misses sneaking out and being a kid.
Her hands are still small and child-like but inside she feels like everything was just ripped from her, all of the joy that she found over this journey has died. It’s the first time she feels truly empty. Tears escape her closed eyes and she wipes them before they freeze to her cheeks. Her sobs are muffled by her arm and she curls within herself hoping to find safety but only finding broken ribs and body memories of being choked
“Ellie…” Joel says, his voice low and sad. Ellie takes in a breath trying to compose herself but as Joel sits next to her, she cries again. He leans back against the front of the house, waiting for Ellie and watching the empty sky.
“I’m sorry.” Ellie whispers, loud enough for Joel to hear.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“No,” Ellie shakes her head wiping away more escaped tears. “I brought us into this. I trusted him, I should’ve shot him. I know better.”
Joel quickly turns Ellie to face him, holding both of her small hands in his. “Look at me when I say this, Ellie.” She slowly looks up, leaking eyes and cold cheeks causing the empathy for her to perspire in his chest. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.”
He takes a big breath at an attempt to suppress the anger that bubbles. How could she possibly think it was her fault? The man’s sick.
“Not now, not ever. You hear me? You did nothing wrong, you were smart and quick. You got away and you’re safe now.”
Ellie breaks eye contact by looking away, watching a rabbit dash between trees. “Okay.” Although no part of her believes it.
“Let's go back inside, I don’t want you getting sick and we need to talk about where we’re going to hole up next. I presume you don’t want to stay here?”
Ellie shakes her head. “Not a bit.”
-x-
With new clothes and restocked supplies, they set on their way to a small town just 30 miles away. The snow is deep and hard to walk in but around 2 hours into the journey the mass lightens, going from their shins to their ankles.
Ellie sits on a log, as Joel goes around an empty car lot searching for a working car, his shotgun on laying across her lap. Her eyes cast downward, drawing patterns in the snow with her feet, boredom washing over her.
Footsteps behind her cause her to jump and spin around, calling out for Joel who quickly slams a car door closed.
“Woah-Woah. Don’t shoot.” A man says, dressed in ripped winter clothes. “I’m just wondering if you have supplies, that’s all.”
Ellie presses her body weight into the gun, keeping it centered between his eyes. Not again. Not again. She won’t let them live this time.
“We don’t have any, leave,” Joel says, walking up behind Ellie and placing a hand on her shoulder.
“All I need is some-”
“I didn't ask what you needed, I told you to leave didn’t I?
“Leave,” Ellie growls. Her insides chilling with fear.
The man backs up with his hands raised, no longer a threat and Joel squeezes her shoulder. “It’s alright Ellie. You can put the gun down, he ain’t gonna hurt us.”
She nods but she keeps the scope on his head until she can no longer pick him out amongst the trees.
-x-
Joel gets the car working and they drive on. Ellie leans her head against the cold window and watches the glass fog up everytime she exhales. She draws patterns with her finger, there are no stars so she draws them with her fingers, a longing in her stomach that makes her want to vomit.
“You okay, Ellie?”
His voice startles her and she blinks rapidly, her fingers falling from the glass. “I’m fine.”
Joel sighs, wanting her to open up to him but unsure how to make her. “I’m gonna start looking for places to stay, keep an eye out if you see one.”
“Okay, Joel.” She says, her voice sounding far away. She sets her eyes on the stars she drew and lets the pain inside of her bubble.
Joel finds an old house at the end of a dirt road, vacant and surprisingly clean versus all of the other post-apocalyptic homes. Ellie follows him inside dragging her backpack and herself through the front door.
“I say we set up shop in the living room, that sound good?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m going to look around.”
“Thanks, kiddo.”
Ellie drops her backpack on the mildew smelling couch and goes upstairs, the wood creaking beneath her weight. She goes into each of the rooms and looks around, collecting only a clean rag, alcohol, and painkillers from the master bedroom. The last door was peeling, brown wood peeking through the white paint.
She twisted the doorknob and stepped inside, faced with a little girl’s room. The bed was covered in pink blankets, a group of stuffed animals leaned against the pillow. She sits on the edge of the bed twisting the tag of the stuffed animal around her finger until it throbs with trapped blood. Looking up with a blank stare, gaze settling on the framed pictures on the wall.
Emily was her name. She had a little brother and a mother who appeared in most of the pictures but a father who wasn’t in one. A picture had fallen on the floor and with shaking hands Ellie picks it up, tracing the frame of a portrait of Emily. She places it back on the dresser, sitting on the floor her back against the bed.
She feels the pull in her chest, her heartstrings craving for the demeanor of a child, but she keeps them within. No part of her is innocent anymore and thick, red blood coats her hands. The bedroom turns into an abandoned warehouse of stacked dead bodies, clothes disposed of in the corner, the pungent scent of decomposition choking her. Then it’s the cage where she sat pressed against the cold corner, shaking.
Her tears blend into nightmares until all she can see is the toys left behind and his voice threatening her, taunting her, grooming her. She sniffs, mucus clogging her nose. “Oh, fuck.”
She pulls firmly at her hair, seeking to feel something else, but her wrists are pulled away. “Leave me alone!” She yells, her sight blurry with tears and struggling to free herself once again. “No!”
She pulls her knees to her chest, wrists still being held out in front of her, and dry heaves gasping for air as her stomach lurches.
“Ellie! It’s me!”
“Ellie, open your eyes.”
She heaves again, nothing comes up.
“Open your eyes.”
Her eyes remain shut.
"Babygirl, open your eyes for me.”
She heaves one last time but opens her left eye squinting to see Joel in front of her once again, catching her in the middle of a breakdown reminding her of how needy and broken she actually is.
“It’s just me, I’m here now.”
She coughs on the bile in her mouth, swallowing down the stomach acid that burns her throat. Joel moves his hands to both sides of her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. He’s talking but she can’t hear him over her heart in her ears.
“Ellie, sweetie, please talk to me.”
She takes a shaky breath and Joel takes one of her tears into his thumb. “It just sucks.” She squeaks out, shivering once again.
“What sucks?”
“What he did to me… and I’m scared-” She hiccups. “I’m always scared, Joel. I’m tired of being scared.”
“You’re strong.”
“It doesn’t matter!” She sobs. “And stop saying I’m strong. So many people have died because of me, it’s all my fault. You and I both know it.”
“I told you it wasn’t your fault.” Joel says, pushing her hair behind her ears.
She sniffs, long, wet eyelashes brushing against her cheeks. “I’ve hurt so many people, they didn’t deserve to die because of me.” She hiccups. “Sam… Sam would’ve made it if I didn’t ask if we could stay with them. And Tess, I could’ve helped her.” She hiccups again. “I can’t live with it.”
Joel freezes, holding her face firmly.
“I just can’t live knowing that, I’m sorry. I’ve wasted your time... I can’t-“
“Stop!” He yells, shaking her gently. “Stop talking like that, Ellie…”
“I-I-I-“ She sobs, tears dripping from her chin. “I want to go home.” Hanging her head, the weight of all the burdens holding her down. “I just want to go home.”
“Where?” Joel asks, his voice soft. He pulls her into him, Ellie folding herself in his embrace, a hand on her back rubbing circles. “Where do you want to go, babygirl?"
“I don’t know, I just want to go home.”
He hugs her and presses his chin on the top of her head. “Okay, we’ll go home.” He isn’t sure where home is if she means Boston, Tommy’s, or another abandoned place. “I’ll take you home where everything is going to be okay.” He whispers.
“Babygirl, nobody is ever going to hurt you. You hear?”
She doesn’t answer.
“I’m going to keep you safe, you’ve got me now, girl. I’ll never let anybody hurt you again.”
She looks out of the window and the sky is still empty, but it’s less empty than before.
-x-
Ellie wakes up the next morning laying on the couch, a blanket over her body. The world pounds at her eyelids, the sun licking the bottom of the world, sky awakening. The couch beneath her is hot, the blankets are heavy, she wants to cry but she feels dizzy.
Creeping to the open window and peeling back the curtains, David’s hand falls on her shoulder and she shudders, a part of her permanently tied to his hands that have no boundaries to where they can and cannot go.