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He’s never felt this fear for a long long time. This feeling of complete terror where not even your body is able to act rationally. His pulse is always steady, his breathing rarely falters. But tonight? Tonight he doesn’t feel like himself.
He doesn’t pay attention to his own surroundings, in that exact moment, he’s got another life to save apart from his own. For the first time in years, his instinct is telling him to put someone else first . And it just so happens that that someone else is a fourteen-year-old kid running for her life amongst a horde of Infected.
‘Ellie is in danger .’
His hands shake, his breathing falters, his world crumbles. But his body is on high alert. He makes every shot count. Every Runner, every Clicker that dares to come even close to Ellie gets a bullet straight to the head. Every one of them, except one.
She listened to him, she got inside the hole, she’s inside the car, she’s safe. Until she isn’t. He’s too late to notice one of them climbing in after her.
‘ Too late. Too late. Too fucking late. ’
His grasp on the sniper trembles, he can’t see her, he can’t help her, he can’t do anything. The world stops turning, and he feels like he’s about to die, until the passenger door opens up and Ellie steps outside, closing it after her. His finger never leaves the trigger after that, the scope on her at all times.
She helps Sam and Henry and they make it out alive, he’s done all he can, and as he grabs the rifle and makes his way downstairs to find them, he tries to take control over his body once again.
His knees wobble every step he takes. The shock doesn’t seem to leave his body, and even though he tries to lie to himself and pretend he doesn’t know what makes him feel this way, he has a pretty clear idea of what it is, or rather who .
His eyes search frantically for her. It sounds awful even in his own brain, but fuck Henry and fuck Sam, he needs to find Ellie. His old heart does ache a bit for the other two kids, but they are not the ones he’ll give up his life for.
And isn’t that a strange revelation? Isn’t it wonderfully bizarre that he’d be willing to protect that auburn-haired kid at all costs? It is bizarre, but most of all, it’s scary. He promised himself twenty years ago that he wouldn’t let the responsibility of taking care of someone else’s life lie on his hands, and yet, here he is.
They run away from the massacre, as fast as they can. Henry, Sam and Ellie are always ahead of him. He’s old, his body can’t take as much shit as theirs can. He knows they could keep going, that it’d be safer if they did, but he needs some time to breathe.
It’s Ellie who notices him slowing down, and it’s her who motions for Sam and Henry to stop. They seem as out of breath as he is, but they recover twice as fast. With both hands on his knees, Joel tries to take as much air into his lungs as humanly possible.
“Are you alright?” Her voice startles him, not expecting her to be this close. It’s still pretty difficult for him to even breathe, let alone talk, so he just holds up one of his hands. “You really are getting old, dude.” The glare thrown her way is more playful than stern, so she just smiles broadly. “I think I saw a building not too far ahead. We can crash there, right?”
“We- we need to get-” breathe in, breathe out “- get a bit farther away.” Standing up straight, with both hands on his hips, he finally starts to regulate his breathing.
“Man, do you want me to look for an oxygen tank?” He stares at her, pretending to be annoyed, but he can’t help the small chuckle that comes out of him. Her smile takes over her entire face, and his heart swells.
“It’d be useful, but I’m alright.” Grabbing the rifle from where he left it on the ground, he takes a look around his surroundings. A bit farther ahead, he spots Henry signing something to Sam, the kid sitting down the side of the road, visibly exhausted. As Ellie starts to walk away and towards them, he grabs her arm, stopping her. “Give ‘em some room.” The girl stares at him before taking a quick look at the brothers. After that, her gaze falls to the floor and they both stand there awkwardly. What is he supposed to say? Is he supposed to say anything ?
“That was something else, huh?” Turns out, he didn’t have to think of anything to say.
“Yeah.” It’s the best he can do, all he can say.
“I just uh-” her hand scratches the back of her neck “- I wanted to thank you.” Their eyes meet. “For helping me down there. With the sniper and all.” He just nods, trying to downplay the matter. “I thought you weren’t that good of a shot.” Raising an eyebrow, he silently asks her to explain. “Don’t look at me like that, you told me yourself. ‘ Missing a shot is more common than you think .’ Or something like that.” She tries to mimic him, and he’s got to admit, it’s pretty endearing.
“Shooting with a rifle is much more precise if you know what you are doing.” Ellie places both hands on her backpack stripes, listening intensely.
“And you know what you are doing?”
“Sometimes, yeah.” She chuckles softly. “It just takes a lot of practice.” Her eyes move quickly to the rifle on his hand and back to his face. “ No .” With a shrug, she sighs.
“Worth a shot.”
“You ready?” Henry calls them from their spot, they follow.
He has a soft spot for both boys, and as much as he was against the idea in the beginning, he ends up inviting Henry to come along with them. The words ‘ you can come along with us ’ never leave his mouth, but it’s implied.
He lets his guard down, he starts to trust people too quickly, and it backfires.
A screech, a kid crying, a gunshot and he finds himself trying to take a loaded gun from Henry’s hand. He’s never been good with words, and right now, talking is the only way he is going to be able to take it from him. It doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t fucking work.
He feels like throwing up, maybe even throwing something at the wall, punching it so hard that his fist might go through it. He’s not angry at the boy, not really, he’d be a hypocrite. He’s angry at himself for not doing something sooner. Both boys are dead, and if it was only him in the room, he’d pack up his shit and go, but with Ellie around? He doesn’t think he can.
“Ellie.” Her eyes are fixed on Henry’s body, her lungs gasping for air. “Ellie, we can’t stay here.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t react. He has to crouch right by her side and grab her by the hands to help her even stand. “Come on.” He tries to come off as soft as possible, and even though it takes a while, she ends up listening to him. Once she stands up, her whole demeanor changes. Squaring up her shoulders she marches right to the other room and grabs her backpack from the floor. “Help me find some shovels.” It surprises her as much as it does him, he’d much rather keep going west, but he can see in her eyes how much she needs this. Without a word, she follows.
The digging is done in silence, not a single word shared between the two. She follows him inside, and for a second he’s sure she’s going to try and grab Sam’s body as he’s grabbing Henry’s, but she just stays still on the doorway. Crouched down on the ground, he notices her hesitation and the first words in the last few hours leave his mouth.
“You can wait outside, I’ll take care of this.” She doesn’t listen to him, of course she doesn’t. Taking a deep breath, she takes three steps and places one hand under Sam’s knees and one behind his head, taking him with her as she stands. She’s the first out the door.
As she walks away, he can see tears rolling down her cheeks and for a second, he has to compose himself and contain his own. Not too long after, he takes Henry into his arms and walks out as well.
She places Sam inside the makeshift grave with as much care as possible, he does the same, for her sake.
It takes them almost an hour to fill the hole in the ground, but she doesn’t make it even halfway. Sweating and panting, she leaves the shovel on the ground. He also stops what he’s doing, taking a little break himself.
“Go get our stuff, see if you can find something useful while you are in there. I’ll finish this.” She doesn’t even spare a glance at him as she walks away. He just keeps going.
It takes him a while to finish, but it gives Ellie enough time to grab supplies. He can tell she’s been crying, and as she leaves Sam’s little makeshift board on the ground with the words ‘ I’m sorry ’, he feels like crying himself.
They start walking west, and Henry’s backpack feels like an extra weight on his shoulders. He knows he would want him to have it, what’s the use of leaving it? Still, he knows it’ll be a constant reminder for him and Ellie, and maybe it’s for the best.
“It’s getting late, let’s find somewhere to spend the night.” She still hasn’t said a word and it unnerves him, but she does as she’s told, so he won’t complain.
They set camp for the night, and as she’s sitting down with her back to a tree, he gets up and tries to look for wood. He knows the dangers of getting a fire started, he’s told her a million times, but they’ll freeze if they don’t get warm somehow.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to start fires.” He looks up as quickly as the first word leaves her mouth.
“I don’t want to freeze to death. I’ll just keep watch.” Her only response is a slight nod as her eyes stay fixed on the fire. “Eat something and go to sleep. I’ll wake you up early tomorrow.” She does not eat, but she does lay on the ground, hands around her own body, trying to keep warm.
He stays seated, his back to the tree, and he finds himself staring at her. It’s getting colder, she’s almost shivering and the fire doesn’t seem to do the trick anymore. But what else can he do? He wishes he could give her something else, anything else, but he can’t. He’d give her his own coat, but then he’ll freeze, and what good would that do? She’d be alone and-
“Joel?” Her voice helps stop his thoughts from spiraling.
“Yeah?” He waits for her question, but it never comes. She’s not asleep, he can see her rub her feet together and her arms moving slightly, probably playing with her hands. “Are you okay?” She then turns her body, staring directly at him, fresh tears on her face.
“No.” He stays frozen on the spot. He doesn’t know what to do. He itches to go to her and pull her close, but can he do that? They are just strangers, right? They’ve known each other for a few days, and she’s just cargo, right? Right ? “I keep-” she sniffs before continuing “- I keep seeing them, and I don’t-.” She’s looking for comfort, and why wouldn’t she? She’s been through a traumatic event that even shook him to the core. But she’s looking for it on the wrong person. He’s not fit for this, hasn’t been for the last twenty years. And still, on the back of his head, there’s an itch. An itch to forget every rule, every boundary he set the moment they met, and comfort her as he would with Sarah. “I just-” she runs the back of her hand over her eyes, and right on her palm he sees something. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“What’s that on your hand?” Confused, she turns her hand over, inspecting it before turning around.
“It’s nothing.” It’s then that he decides to not give a fuck about his own boundaries and walk to her, crouching by her side.
“Let me see.” She doesn’t turn around, her arms crossed over her chest. “ Ellie , let me take a look.” Without moving from her spot, she extends her arm towards him and he takes her hand in his. “How’d you get this?” The cut is all throughout her palm, thankfully not infected.
“I don’t know.” That’s a lie and she knows he can tell.
“Okay.” He uses his so-called ‘ asshole voice ’, and she scoffs, knowing he doesn’t believe her lie. Still, she doesn’t even try to tell the truth. “Let me get something to clean it.” With a bit of alcohol and some rags, he cleans the wound and covers it as best as he can. “You need to tell me if you get hurt, this can get infected and it’ll hurt.” Once he’s done, he lets her hand go, and she goes back to her initial position.
He knows she wants him to leave, to go back to his spot, but he doesn’t move, staying crouched right by her side before sitting down and getting more comfortable.
“It won’t leave your thoughts, at least for a while.” He looks up at the sky, watching the hundreds of stars he wouldn’t have been able to see all those years ago. “You’ll have dreams about it, probably nightmares, almost every night.” He plays with his fingers as he looks down. “But eventually, you’ll get through it.” He doesn’t see her, but he feels her moving, probably laying on her other side so she can look at him. “And I’m not saying that what happened back there is nothing, but-” his head turns to the side and they lock eyes “- if we keep going, we’ll probably see worse than that.” She visibly gulps, he sighs, not knowing how to make it better. “I’ll try as much as I can to not go through anything like that again, but I’m not perfect. I can’t see the future and avoid everything bad that might be in our way, so I need you to be prepared.” She gives him a miniscule nod, but he still catches it. “It’ll be hard, but if we want to make it, we’ll have to go through it. And we will get through it. Okay?” This time, her nod is more noticeable. With what could be considered a half smile, he places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly for a second before standing up. “Get some sleep.”
He goes back to his spot, and this time she doesn’t turn around, so he can see her face slowly relax as she finally falls asleep. His grip on the rifle doesn’t lessen through the night, and he finds himself making sure she doesn’t have nightmares more than checking their surroundings.
He knows how miserable she’ll be for the next couple of days, maybe even weeks, but he’ll make sure to be there for her. He’ll do anything in his power to make sure she won’t see anything like that again. It’s an unspoken promise between the two, and he doesn’t intend to break it.