Work Text:
Joel had never truly realized how small Ellie was. He knew she was little, a small girl of only 14, but until now, when he was cradling her in his arms, he realized how small she was. This child, the child that he told Marlene and Tess that he didn’t want, that he shouldn’t be entrusted with, was small. Too small. But then again, he hadn’t been around a child her age for 20 years.
He watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath she took. They’d managed to make it to a small abandoned cottage close to Salt Lake City, but far enough from Silver Lake to keep Joel’s throat from closing up. Seeing Ellie, his kid, stumble from that burning building covered in blood, ponytail falling apart, was a sight he never wanted to see again, as long as he lived. All he wanted to do now was get her to the Fireflies, let them run their tests, and then take her back to Jackson. To their farmhouse, number 38. Even though they’d only spent a night there, he could see himself, and his new-found daughter, living there.
He wanted to help her redo the bedroom that she had claimed. Repaint the walls, get a new, bigger bed. The biggest he could find. Fill the room with all the pillows and blankets he could find and trade for in Jackson. Maybe add some string lights, like ones hanging on the main strip in the town. Find her things to do with space. Books, posters, figurines, anything. Anything and everything she wanted. He wanted to give her a bedroom where nothing bad had ever happened. No tears, no fighting, no ‘you’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.’ Because the truth was, she was his the second he laid eyes on her.
And could anyone blame him? He may have lost his daughter 20 years ago, but that paternal feeling, the feeling of needing to protect those smaller than you, didn’t go away. It remained, spreading through his whole body, like the virus. And like the fungus, it exploded out. The second he laid eyes on Ellie Williams, on the ground at his feet, glaring up at him, he was screwed.
Ellie’s legs began to slip off of his lap, and the motion jerked him out of the trance he was in, watching her chest rise and fall as she slept. He cleared his throat quietly, and picked up the wet cloth he’d been using to wipe off the blood caked to Ellie’s pale skin. He’d managed to check her over for any breaks earlier, but hadn’t gotten the chance to clean her up, in his panic to keep her alive.
They’d been walking for hours. Both of them were tired, ready to fall asleep standing up. But, Joel had been determined to push on. The man who took his Ellie was dead, but that didn’t mean his followers were. He wanted to get them as far away from Silver Lake as possible. He stopped though, when Ellie collapsed. Fell, into the snow. Had Joel not been gripping her so tightly, making sure he didn’t let go, he may not even have known she’d collapsed. That’s when he spotted the abandoned cottage. He knelt down next to her, and checked her over.
He pushed away the sides of his coat, and reached for the brown crew neck she had on. He lifted it up, trying to get a good look at her ribs. A large red, purple and blue bruise was blossoming on her rib. “‘m sorry, baby girl,” he whispered, before, as gently as he could, poked and prodded her midsection, trying to see if she’d broken any ribs. From his inspection, she’d broken at least one, but it was low enough that it didn’t endanger her lungs. He lowered her sweater down, and continued his inspection. There were no other injuries that he could detect, and as long as she wasn’t bleeding internally, she had simply collapsed from exhaustion. He cradled her head in his elbow, and slid his other arm under her legs, groaning as he stood and lifted her. After a breath, he continued on to the small cottage in the distance.
Joel lowered the cloth once her face was free from any blood. Her nose appeared to at least be fractured, but other than that, she seemed okay. Physically, at least. He dropped the cloth onto the bed next to him, and lifted her legs back up. As he held them, he remembered the last time he held his other baby girl.
Sarah would have loved Ellie. If Sarah had lived, she would be 34. And knowing his Sarah, she would have been attached to Ellie right away. Joel had always known Sarah would be a mother, and after meeting Ellie, he knew she would have thought of the younger girl as her own. She was great with children, and always talked of being a teacher when she was younger. He just wished she was here, so Ellie could have a female figure to look up to. Something neither of his daughters had, he realized.
He sniffled, as a tear ran down his face. He gently laid Ellie’s legs down, and lifted her up, so they were chest to chest. Her head flopped around briefly, before snuggling into his neck. His right hand settled on her lower back as he slowly began to rock her, while his other buried itself in her messy hair.
He had been so scared, when he woke up and she was gone. He couldn’t lose her. He’d lost one daughter, and that’d been one too many. Ellie needed to survive, so he can give her the life she deserved.
Ellie whimpered, her head moving around briefly, and Joel found himself shushing her like he would a newborn baby fussing. But yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Someone had hurt his baby girl. Hurt this small, skinny child. She wasn’t defenceless, in fact she could defend herself better than he could defend her, but she was 14. She shouldn’t have to worry about anything other than who she had a crush on at her age.
As he sat there, against the wall off the cottage, cradling his Ellie in his arms, he vowed to make sure no one ever touched her again. No one would harm her, bruise or break her porcelain skin. She would never have to defend herself again. Not while he was alive to protect her.
Just because her small hand was able fit around her too big knife, it didn’t mean it should.