Chapter Text
Ellie spent plenty of time growing up imagining that her parents were alive and that they were coming for her, that they just didn't know where she was, somehow. They were looking for her; they just hadn't found her yet. She's pretty sure that childish little pipe dream had died around age six or seven, much too old for a FEDRA school orphan to learn that particular lesson.
She still remembers, kind of, what her favorite daydream had been. It's a little hazy, since it was so long ago and all, but she used to think about it so much that Ellie's not sure she'll ever really forget, at least not completely. It would always go something like this: her mom and dad, both super awesome and badass, of course, would storm into the school and demand that they give them back their daughter. FEDRA would resist, insisting that Ellie had to stay because she was one of their best soldiers (shut up, okay, she was like, six). A huge battle would break out, with tons of gunfire and explosions, but of course, in the end, her parents would be victorious.
This part of the daydream was always a lot more detailed, since it was her favorite: her parents would find her, cowering under some debris or something. Her mom, tall and imposing with long brown hair and eyes just like Ellie's, would take one look at Ellie and know that it's her, despite the fact that she hasn't seen her since she was born. Her dad, taller and broader than her mother, more intimidating, but not to her- never to her, would know it too.
It was at this point in the fantasy that the whole thing got pretty pathetic. She'd imagine her mother crouching down in front of her, happy tears welling in her eyes; her mom reaches out and takes Ellie's face in her hands, and in reality, little Ellie would press her own tiny hands to her cheeks in a cheap imitation. Her mom would say all the things Ellie had always longed to hear, stuff like "we've finally found you, Ellie" and "I love you so much, I'll never leave you again," and then she'd take Ellie into her arms. Ellie's dad would join them, then, would wrap his arms around the both of them so that Ellie is surrounded by them, by love, and then he'd repeat all the same things her mom said. In turn, Real Ellie would wrap her arms around herself as tightly as she could, desperate to simulate the feeling of big, strong arms enveloping her, keeping her safe. Sometimes she'd even whisper her fake mom and dad's words to herself; anything she could think of to make the dream feel more real.
She has a vague wisp of a memory where she shared the hope that her parents were still out there looking for her with one of the adults in charge, and he'd told her in no uncertain terms that if she was there, at that school, it meant her parents were, in his words, either dead or don't want you, so quit worrying about it and get back to work, runt.
She stopped fantasizing pretty soon after that.
There are plenty of good days in Jackson.
Really good days, where she can collect her Joel hug and forehead kiss before school without feeling so much as a pang of anxiety when he lets go, where she can go about her day relatively free of the irrational fear that the second he leaves her sight she’ll never see him again. On those days, everything feels right, even the shit that she’s still struggling to adjust to, like living in an actual fucking house, feeling safe at school, feeling safe period, and best of all: having a dad.
But today? Today is a bad day.
Ellie had woken Joel up with her screaming after another stupid fucking nightmare; at two in the goddamn morning, no less. You’d think she would’ve gotten them under control by now, especially now that, for the first time in her life, she’s living somewhere she could actually feel safe someday. Hell, this is the closest to safe she’s ever been in her life, yet the nightmares have actually gotten worse since they’ve been here. Almost like the second she felt like she could relax just a little bit, her mind had decided to busy itself every night with rehashing all of her many traumatic experiences, all mixed together and projected behind her eyelids like her own personal fucked-up slideshow of horror.
This time, the show had started with a play-by-play of Silver Lake, except her brain had taken it upon itself to show her exactly what would have happened if she’d been just a little bit slower, a little bit stupider, all mish-mashed together like one of those abstract paintings from Before if the artist was supremely fucked up. One moment she was sobbing over Joel’s cold, dead corpse— the next, her arm was getting unceremoniously chopped off because she hadn’t thought quickly enough, and the next—
Yeah.
Luckily— except not really, because if luck was on her side she would’ve just woken up right then and there— the scene didn’t last long before it shifted again, and this time she was in the hospital in Salt Lake City. This was when shit got really disorienting in the way only dreams can be, to the point that she barely remembers this part. It was a terrifying blur of needles piercing her skin and unsympathetic nurses turned sadistic monsters, until Ellie was rudely catapulted into wakefulness during an MRI that never ended no matter how much she screamed and cried to be let out, because this time, there was no Joel to put a stop to it as soon as she’d had enough.
There is in the waking world, though. Ellie’d barely had time to register that she was in her bedroom in Jackson as she desperately fought for breath before he was at her side.
“Joel,” she’d choked out, and before she could even raise her arms in a silent plea, he was enveloping her in his.
“It’s all right, baby, shhh, it’s all right, now,” he’d said into her hair, and Ellie, being too out of her mind with fear for the guilt of waking him up in the middle of the night to set in just yet, had crawled right into his lap so he could cradle her like she was five instead of fifteen.
It was a different story when she had to face it in the light of day, though. She’d woken up before Joel, which almost never happens, even though he’s so old and surely needs it way more than she does. It’s because you woke him up and made him stay up with you for an entire hour just because you can’t get your fucking shit together, Ellie’d thought, furious with herself.
For some reason, it’d bothered her more than usual. It’s not like that was the first time Joel had stayed up so late just to take care of her, but something about this had really set her off. She was pissed enough to forcibly silence the very large part of her that was always, always crying out for his attention, having decided that she wanted nothing to do with him this morning. She’d rushed getting ready, hoping to be out the door before he woke up, but just as she had slung her backpack over her shoulders, her agitation spiked when she turned to see him descending the stairs.
“Mornin’, sweetheart. How you holdin’ up?” Joel had asked before walking over, probably intending to hug her or kiss her head or some unbearably sweet combination of the two that Ellie did not want (she did, she’d wanted nothing more than to curl into him for the rest of the day, for the rest of her life). She took a hasty step back, and the way he’d frozen, the briefest flash of hurt crossing his face before he could mask it, damn near shattered her flimsy ass tough-girl facade to pieces right then and there, made her want to break down in tears and apologize over and over so that he would still love her.
She’d quickly regained her composure when the thought, You’ve already caused him enough trouble entered her head. She’d taken a deep breath, gritted out, “I’m fine. I have to go, I’m gonna be late.” And before he could point out that she still had at least a half hour of free time before she had to leave for school, she was out and shutting the door behind her with a little more force than she’d intended.
Oops. It was yet another fucking thing to feel bad about. He definitely thought she was upset with him when the only problem here was her, like always. Logically, Ellie knows that it would take a hell of a lot more than a temper tantrum for him to start thinking his life would be better off without her— after all, you don’t just tell someone that they’re the reason you were able to heal from the loss of your daughter after 20 years of non-stop misery if you could discard them just like that, right?— but logic never helps on Ellie’s bad days. So of course, that’s where her head is at right now, and it’s not even eight o’clock yet. Super fucking cool.
So, yeah. Today is shaping up to be a really, really bad fucking day. But it all comes to a head on her way to school, when she catches sight of something that on any other day wouldn’t have bothered her in the least- well, okay, maybe there'd be a tiny little pang of jealousy, but that's all, and she can handle that. Who knows, maybe she even would’ve thought the scene endearing enough to sketch later. After all, the novelty of seeing small children with one or even both parents, happy and carefree, never really wears off, she’s sure anyone would agree. It’s a broken fucking world, one where kids are often orphaned from birth— she can attest to that one herself, thank you. So it really should feel good, great, even, to see younger kids more fortunate than her, able to have a real childhood where they never have to doubt that they’re wanted.
But on this shitty day, at this shitty moment, as she watches a father heft his toddler in the air and twirl her around until she’s screaming with laughter, all she can taste is acid, burning her tongue and slipping down her throat, pouring over her heart until the blood it pumps into her veins is black and rotten.
Fuck this. She turns in the opposite direction and starts speed-walking away while fighting back hot tears, hands clenched tight around the straps of her backpack.
It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.
Why didn’t she get to have that? Not for the first time, she grieves what her childhood could have been: birthdays remembered and celebrated; warm, loving arms she could fall into whenever she was sad or scared; being someone’s first priority; and best of all, feeling wanted and loved, all the time, unconditionally.
And what did she get instead? Certainly nothing anywhere close to that, ever, absolutely no hugs or kisses or even so much as a supportive hand on her shoulder, that’s for fucking sure. FEDRA school was for training orphans to be good little soldiers, and soldiers don’t need love. It didn’t matter how empty she’d felt, all the time, to the point that she didn’t even realize there was any other way to feel until she befriended Riley. She and Riley were never exactly the most affectionate, but what little Ellie did get from her late best friend was hoarded like treasure, tucked deep inside a barren cave that lives inside her chest. The closer they got, the more she could add to her meager collection, until her dwelling was just the slightest bit full, just a little less vacant.
When Ellie’s feelings had developed into something decidedly less friendly, though, her cave had expanded, and the precious treasure she’d so desperately clung to seemed to shrink, becoming impossibly smaller. She got greedy, wanted more; friendly punches to the shoulder and the occasional side hug were no longer enough. They were never really enough in the first place, but she'd been content enough with it before. Once Ellie's feelings changed, she wanted the touches to linger, wanted more of the same, yes, but she also wanted more. But she’d been so unused to being touched in a way that made her feel good inside that she didn’t even know exactly what it was she wanted (beyond, y’know, the obvious thing people do when they like each other like that; she’d spent way too much time daydreaming during drills about what the press of Riley’s lips to hers would feel like). She had ideas, sure, but having someone she not only cared about but who cared about her in return was completely new and scary territory for her, and the idea of bringing romance into it had made it all the more terrifying. What if Ellie asked for more only to be rejected? What if she ruined it and she ended up alone again with nothing but memories, the echoes of affection she would never again get to have?
And of course, as soon as Ellie had gotten what she wanted more than anything: the confirmation that her feelings were mutual, the reassurance of the only person who'd ever given half a shit about her promising to stay, it was brutally ripped right out of her starving hands. The emptiness was back in full force, like an old friend that makes you feel like shit but you stay with them anyway because you don't have anyone else. It was so much worse after Riley died, not only because of the grief but because she’d gotten a taste of what it was like to have someone care. It was easier before she knew, and on her darker days, in the days between Riley’s death and meeting Joel, a selfish part of Ellie had often wished that she still lived in ignorance, the pain of loss ripping her apart from the inside out.
It’s not like the emptiness had ever really left her, anyway; Riley had made it easier to ignore, but Ellie knows now that the void never could've been completely filled by Riley alone, no matter how close they got. So yeah, maybe it would’ve been better for Ellie’s sanity if she and Riley had never even met. Even so, she could never bring herself to regret knowing her. Riley deserves to be remembered, and Ellie is grateful for every day that she thinks about her (which is, in fact, every single day), because that means there’s someone in the world keeping her alive. If that someone has to be Ellie, then she’ll cherish every memory for the rest of her life.
Now, Ellie knows what it's like to have the closest thing to a parent she's ever gonna get. She'll take being a replacement daughter any day if it means she gets to keep Joel. Sometimes it scares her, the enormity of her love for him; these days, his care for her alone is enough to have her little chest-cave stuffed to the brim with treasures she covets more fiercely than anything. Her friends, Tommy, and even Maria pitch in, until it's so full she can hardly fit it all, but nothing can compare to what Joel gives her. The comfort and security he provides is like nothing else. She loves the way he cares for her, so gentle but so fierce and violent, too, like he'd set the whole world on fire just to keep her safe. Now, she finally has what she was missing, what she so desperately wanted- no, needed.
Part of Ellie wishes that she could go back in time and tell her child-self to just be patient, that there was someone coming. It wouldn't be who she was expecting, not her mom and not really her dad, but something pretty damn close. She wants to tell her that he'll act all grumpy at first, but he's actually a huge fucking softie; he'll just need a little time to get used to her, and once he does, he'll be the best goddamn thing that ever happened to her.
But that's the thing. Even if Ellie could go back and tell herself all of these things, she still wouldn't get to meet Joel for years. She would still have to endure a childhood that'll leave her cold, angry, and so, so fucking lonely, so desperate for an adult to think she's fucking worth something that she nearly went feral at the sight of a man she'd met mere hours ago beating a guy's face into a bloody pulp to protect her. What would she be like now, if she'd always had that? What would she be like if Joel had always been her sort-of dad? If she'd always had someone who loved her unconditionally, the way she assumes only a parent could ever love their child?
Ellie bets that if she had, it wouldn’t be so fucking hard to connect with people. It would feel easy and natural to seek comfort from Joel. She wouldn’t even hesitate; she’d feel secure in his love for her, confident that he would never, ever leave her. There would be no anxiety twisting and pulling at her insides every time she craves him, holding her back from initiating touch no matter how badly she wants it, wouldn’t have to hope that he’s suddenly developed the ability to read her mind (which, sometimes, she kinda wonders if he really had, with how he always seems to know what she needs anyway). She never would’ve had to contend with the empty feeling inside of her because she would’ve been full from the very beginning.
She wants that. She wants it so badly that she has to pull her hood over her head as she trudges back the way she came, because she's started to cry in earnest now as her thoughts spiral. She realizes suddenly that she's been subconsciously heading in the direction of the stables; when Joel isn't an option for comfort, caring for the horses is a decent enough alternative, albeit much less effective. She takes a shortcut down an alleyway, angry and horribly sad in equal measure. As she passes through, she kicks hard at a strange-looking rock. It bounces off the wall of one building and nearly ricochets off the other, and it speaks volumes about Ellie's state of mind that she doesn't even fret over whether she's caused any damage to the infrastructure or not. She just keeps going, wiping at her eyes and trying to make herself look okay enough that nobody will ask her any questions if there's anyone else around.
Behind her, the strange rock glows bright with intention.