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you're my purpose

Summary:

you and joel get into a fight after he refuses to let you come with him to find his brother

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Like many days before, you’re making your way over to Joel’s unprompted.

He gets grumpy when you do that because you live on the other side of the QZ and he doesn’t like you making the journey over.

But like always, you don’t listen to him.

It’s not your fault he gave you a spare key or the fact that his place is significantly better than yours.

When you enter, you do the secret whistle to let him know it was you before locking the door from behind.

Silence greets you—then the noise of rushed shuffling. “Joel?” you say softly, and seconds later he comes out of the bedroom and stuffs a shirt into his bag that’s laying on the kitchen table.

“Are you going somewhere?” you ask in confusion.

He looks up at you with guilty eyes then clears his throat. “I’m leaving.”

You start to panic just slightly. “What do you mean you're leaving?”

“I need to go find Tommy.”

You sigh. “I’m sure he’s fine, Joel. You know how he is.”

He looks down and lets out a breath. “No… It’s… Something’s wrong. It’s been a week and no signal.”

You see the nervous look in his eyes and your heart aches for him. But leaving the QZ? That was a suicide mission—and if you remember correctly, Tommy was heading to fucking Wyoming. That was days from here.

If he wanted to put himself in danger then so be it, but you would be right behind him. You would go wherever he would. “Let me come with you, then.”

Looking away, he crosses his arms as if he already expected you to say that. “You know you can’t,” he remarks.

“Joel,” you say his name slowly. “I want to come with you.”

“No,” he gruffs, “You can’t come with me. That’s final.”

“Why? You know I’m perfectly capable of—” you start to argue, but he’s not even listening to you, now opting to dig through his bag instead.

You huff and stalk towards him, yanking the bag out of his hand and throwing it to the other side of the table. “You’re not even listening to me.”

His jaw ticks. “You’re not fucking going. I’m not going to say it again.”

“I don’t understand you. I know how to fucking defend myself so I don’t see why—”

“Because you’re going to slow me down. Don’t you see? You’re just going to be extra baggage!” he shouts.

The words come out of his mouth and into the world, unable to be taken back.

You shut your lips and your tongue goes dry.

Baggage. You were baggage to Joel. You had always thought you were a companion of sorts, a friend, a partner, perhaps even something more (not that Joel would ever admit it). But you were just extra baggage. A burden.

Has he always seen you this way? Suddenly, the walls were closing in on you.  

Rubbing at his mouth, he sighs. “That’s not wh—”

You raise your hand to stop him. “No, I understand. You don’t need to explain anymore,” you say with a shaky breath.

Turning around, you blink a few tears away. However, before you could walk away he grabs your wrist and spins you back around.

He says your name with that low honeyed voice of his. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You’re not a burden.”

You know Joel was never the best at verbally expressing his feelings—acts of service were more his forte, but you can’t keep doing this anymore.

It’s your turn to get angry now. “Then what do you mean? I’m not a psychic, I can't try and read your damn mind everytime!”

His jaw is tense—he’s nervous, you conclude. You give him a minute but silence still surrounds the two of you. “Were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?” you ask, voice defeated. “God—” you pause, wiping away a stray tear, “Was I suppose to come here one day and find out then? How can you expect me to live without knowing what happened to you or when you were going to return?”

Letting out a small sniffle, you choke out, “Do I mean that little to you?”

“You know that’s not true,” he says, short and direct.

“Then why won’t you let me come with you?” you grit out.

“Because if you get hurt, I will never forgive myself!” He brings your hands together and holds them with shaky hands, a rare moment of vulnerability. “I can’t… I can’t go through that again. I can’t lose you too,” he confesses, voice trembling.

When you look into his eyes, he’s looking at you as if you meant the entire world to him. But doesn’t he see that in your eyes too?

“But… but what if I lose you?” you whisper. “Have you ever thought about that?”

“It’s different,” he replies. “It’s not the same.”

“What do you mean it’s not the same. If I lost yo—”

“You have a whole life ahead of you. If something happened to me, you can still bounce back from it. But if… if I lost you—” he chokes out, “I don’t think… I wouldn’t have a purpose anymore.”

There.

Joel was always a stoic man. He never let his emotions dictate his actions and most importantly, he never let his emotions show because that was weakness. But this, his confession to you, his greatest worry is finally out.

He laid his heart out on the floor—and it was yours.

It’s a wonder Joel even has the ability to feel anymore. But he does—and you’re the reason for it. You’re consuming his heart. You who just showed up and kept appearing again and again, bringing a little normalcy and humanity back into his life. Asking him about his days, making him feel like a human again. He spent years bordering up his heart and shutting people out, but it turns out, there was a spot he missed—one where you managed to creep in and lit a hearth and made home.

So he couldn’t help but feel overprotective of you, because you’re one of the only few things left that’s worth something to him.

“Don’t you see? I can’t lose you.”

You let out a whimper, knowing too well what he was implying. “Joel,” you say, bringing your hand to cup his face. “Please don’t say that,” you plead. “Nothing’s going to happen to you and nothing’s going to happen to me, okay?”

It doesn’t matter if he never says those three little words to you because he just did, in his own way.

You pull him into your arms and he leans against you. “I understand you’re trying to protect me, but I wish you would’ve at least talked to me about it.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he mutters against you. “I was scared and just wanted you to be safe.”

You hum, rubbing circles against his back. “I know. But you do know your aim is shit, right? You should be more concern about that.”

He chuckles at that and you feel the vibrations of his chest against your own, bringing a small smile to your face too.

“And you do know that I’m not going to listen to you, right? I’m coming.”

“I know,” he says.

You pull away and gently stroke his cheek before pressing a small chaste kiss where your thumb was just seconds ago.

“Wherever you go, I go.”

Because there would be no one else. Joel was your only reason you kept on fighting too.