Work Text:
Ellie doesn’t even realize how long it’s been until their first day back in Jackson.
After a warm greeting from Tommy and a very pregnant Maria, Joel and Ellie find themselves (miserably) in the town clinic for in depth exams. Ellie dutifully keeps her bite-arm wrapped in gauze, insisting she has a healing burn there and doesn’t want to unwrap it. Joel’s wolf-glare helps get the intimidated clinic staff off her back.
But they do ask other things of her. Joel offered to step out to make her more comfortable, but the whole Firefly hospital debacle has both of them wary around medical professionals.
Having your brain nearly cut into by scalpel-happy rebel soldiers will do that.
Anyway, she elects for him to stay with wide, pleading eyes. She somewhat regrets this when they get all up in her business.
“Oh my,” says the nurse-in-training, a slender woman named Blanche, “miss Ellie, you’re nearly 5 '3 and you only weigh 96 pounds. What are we gonna do about that?”
Her teeth grit together at the almost patronizing tone in this woman’s voice. Has she spent the last majority of a year on the road, living off shot rabbits and canned peas? No? Then why the fuck is she-
“Gonna make sure she eats right,” Joel rescues her from having to come up with a polite response. His voice displays no emotion, face neutral, but she can hear the worry in his tone underneath casual composure.
Obviously neither of them are particularly healthy. He still has yet to have someone look at his barely-healed, scarred over stomach wound. That should be a fun exam.
“Very good!” Blanche nods happily. “Ellie, do you remember when your last period was?”
And holy shit, does that question feel like an absolute punch to the gut.
Before the road, it wasn’t perfectly consistent, but she could almost always count on Ole Aunt Flow to rear her ugly head at least once a month. It was a mad dash to beat the other girls in the FEDRA military dorms to the pad stash before the monthly ration ran out.
The first few months on their journey, she’d been distraught to find herself muscling through uterus-twisting cramps and scavenged tampons as Joel and she chuffed it across the American terrain.
Though… it has been a while, hasn't it? Weeks… no, months. She doesn’t know much about anatomy, but she knows that shit ain’t good
Isn’t, she corrects herself. She’s been alone with a grouchy southerner and his colorful vernacular for far too long.
“Uh…um…” She blinks rapidly, so engrossed in her puzzlement she can’t even find it in her to be embarrassed that Joel is sitting right there. Hell, he’s seen her a lot more vulnerable than this anyway. “Not since it was snowing.”
Blanche’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh my darling. That long?”
“Like, barely snowing, but yeah I think. It was melty on the grass.”
“February,” Joel tells Blanche.
She looks at him gratefully. He offers her a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Well, it’s April now,” Blanche replies matter-of-factly, “I have to ask- you’re not with child, right?”
“She is a child.” Joel’s curt voice interjects. His expression has suddenly turned sour at Blanche’s suggestion.
“Of course, of course I’m so sorry. We just have to exhaust all possibilities,” Blanche assures him, clearly trying to soothe the menacing look on his face.
Ellie shifts uncomfortably on the crinkly paper of the clinic cot. After the whole fruitful and multiply blah blah blah shit David said to her, she doesn’t like to think about that side of her anatomy very much.
“Not now and not ever,” Ellie tells Blanche nonchalantly. “Just run of the mill malnourished, I guess.”
The joke falls unbearably flat between the tense trio. Let the record show that she did try to lighten the fuckin’ mood.
She sort of drifts in and out during the remainder of the exam. It’s mostly boring plans to get her weight up, get her healthy and reoriented with a proper sleep schedule and even a visit to the town’s only counselor. So. Not. Happening.
Joel listens very diligently, nodding his head and asking questions that she wouldn’t have even thought of. He asks the nurse what kind of foods are best for Ellie to get what vitamins, asks how many calories she needs a day, asks what things they need to be on the lookout for as a sign of something being wrong.
It would warm her heart how much he cares, if it didn’t make her realize he’s going to be very unbearable for the next few weeks.
As usual, she’s right. Joel spends that first month in Jackson being utterly insufferable. He watches her like a hawk, staring her down until her plate is clean at breakfast, lunch and dinner. When she’s apprenticing with him while he does light contracting work, he tosses her snacks all day. Nuts, granola, berries.
“You got a quota or something?” Ellie demands one day when he tries to hand her a snack for the fourth time since breakfast.
“No, but you do.” He waves the muffin in front of her face tantalizingly. “I told Nurse Smarty Pants I’d get you healthy before that next clinic visit. Don’t make a liar out of a gentleman.”
“Gentleman? I don’t see a gentleman.”
“And I don’t see a comedian. Eat the muffin, funny girl.”
She accepts her snack with a groan of complaint, but has to admit, it’s a pretty fuckin’ good muffin.
Things get a little easier on her when baby Rosie is born, everyone is too occupied with the new Miller to be worried about a teenager eating enough blueberries or getting her full eight-hours of nightmare riddled sleep.
Ellie likes spending time with her…well, Tommy calls Rosie her cousin. It’s interesting, because she’s never even had parents, let alone an aunt, an uncle and a cousin. Having so many people in her circle is a little overwhelming, but it makes her chest feel swollen and warm in ways she never thought she’d experience.
It’s so weird to see Joel with the baby, though Ellie is quickly learning that his natural instincts are a lot softer than the rugged, cruel man she’d first met a year ago. It’s something Tommy says to her one night when Joel has fallen asleep with baby Rosie on his chest, slack-jawed and snoring like a steam engine while Tommy and Ellie stay up eating all the dessert that went unfinished after dinner.
“Joel was just born to be a dad.”
She thinks back to the forced snacks, and the late-night check-ins before she goes to sleep, and the easy acceptance of a trembling girl into his bed after a particularly violent nightmare. She thinks of the protective rage on her behalf at even the slightest odd look in her direction, and the firm hands which plant on her shoulders when she gets nervous around too many people.
“Yeah,” she agrees easily, “I think he was .”
The fruits of Joel’s labor come forth one warm spring morning. The sun hasn’t even risen yet when her eyes crack open to a familiar, twisting feeling in her lower stomach. She’s a little conflicted, because on one hand, it’s good that she’s so fuckin’ healthy all of a sudden that her stupid body has decided to start doing what it’s supposed to again.
On the other, she’s no stranger to how much periods fucking suck ass.
Rolling over in bed with a slight groan of pain, she first glances down to check her pajama pants, mercifully clean. Her sheets have been spared a fate worse than death as well. Thank god.
She remembers one awful night at FEDRA school, she’d bled through her pants on to the military-regulation white sheets. That was a good three day stint in The Hole for not being more careful with FEDRA belongings.
Padding across the hall on tippy toes, careful to move quietly past Joel’s cracked door, she makes for the bathroom. The door is so old and shitty that the lock is broken, but she knows Joel would never just barge in on her.
She strips out of her clothes before they can be ruined, and plops down on the toilet, only to come to a horrible realization.
Her backpack, the one complete with that handy-dandy fuckin’ cup thing Maria gave her, is still at the hospital in Salt Lake. She is now naked, and bleeding more than she can bear to subject her pajama pants to.
Hope you’re enjoying the oodles of menstrual convenience, dead Fireflies. She thinks bitterly. Consider that silicone nightmare a small consolation for my failure to save the world. And also, fuck you.
Out of options, Ellie starts up the shower and drags her body over the edge of the tub, curling into a ball under the stream of water. She allows it to soothe the ache in her back, wincing at the cramps twisting up her insides.
Apparently, Aunt Flow likes to return from a long vacation with a vengeance.
Ellie loses track of time as she prunes up under the water. She’s in there so long that she sees daylight beginning to stream through the bathroom window, and the water turns from hot, to warm, to cold by the time she hears a hesitant knock on the door.
“Ellie?” Joel’s groggy voice calls over the sound of the water. “Kid?”
“Yeah?”
“You been in there a while. Something wrong?”
She should’ve figured of course, that he wouldn’t just let her suffer in silence.
“Um…” she replies eloquently.
There’s a pause, and the reluctance is audible when he asks, “do you… need me to come in?”
“No!” She resists the urge to snort out a laugh at whatever horrific scenario he might be imagining her needing his help with. “I’m uh… I just need you to go get Maria. Can you go get Maria?”
“Maria? Why-”
“Please Joel it’s…I need Maria.”
“Alright Ellie… are you sure you’re-”
“I’m fine old man, just go get her!”
She can just barely hear his utterance about bossy little girls but she chooses to ignore it in favor of rubbing her suddenly aching temples.
The water is downright freezing when there’s another knock on the door and Maria’s voice gently calls, “Ellie? I’m coming in.”
“Okay!”
The door opens and shuts quickly, followed by light footsteps. Maria’s frame is visible outside the shower curtain, hands on her hips expectantly.
“Joel said you were asking for me,” Maria explains. “I’m going to need you to assure me you’re not dying so I can calm him down a little.”
“He’s a drama queen.”
“It would seem so. I didn’t realize.”
“Ugh…listen, remember that…cup thing you gave me? That weird little-”
“Yes dear.”
“I lost it on the road. Sorry. Do you… have another one?”
“Oh.” There’s clear amusement in Maria’s voice. “I sure do. Give me a few minutes.” The bathroom door shuts and opens again, and Ellie can hear Maria’s reassurances to Joel, who must’ve been standing right outside.
“Everything’s okay, I have to run and grab something for her. But she’s fine.”
“What? Grab what? Will somebody talk to me goddammit?”
Their arguing voices fade down the hall.
Maria doesn’t take long before she returns with the goods, setting it on the side of the tub. Ellie can finally turn off the water, and snatches the cup like a troll receiving a spoil.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
“Sure thing. Do you need anything else?”
“No. No, this is good. Thanks.”
“Just let me know if you need me.” And Maria is gone again.
Ellie takes her time situating the cup -because she really has no choice, the thing is fucking confusing- and finally wraps herself up in a warm, fluffy towel that Joel had just washed the night before. The laundry always smells so good when he does it, so she usually leaves it to him.
She pulls the door open to head to her room and get dressed, only to find a large man sitting on the floor beside the bathroom.
They both startle at the sight of each other, and Joel gets to his feet as quickly as his old man joints will allow. Pretty damn quick, as far as mid-fifties goes.
“What the hell is going on, kid?” The plains of his face are creased with worry, lips tight and tense. His entire body is on edge, eyebrows pulled together in that concerned way they get when he thinks something is deathly wrong with her.
“Well,” she braces herself for the awkwardness that is being a teenage girl living with a middle aged man, “Nurse Smarty Pants is going to be very proud of you. My uterus has decided to stop being a lazy piece of shit and start torturing me again.”
It’s fun to watch his expression go from confused, to perplexed, to understanding, to a grimace.
“Not the most charming way to phrase that,” he mutters.
“Sorry. I’m bleeding from my crotch?”
“Ellie!” He practically recoils.
With a snorting laugh, she brushes past him toward her bedroom. “You asked!”
“I regret it!”
His clear discomfort with the topic aside, when Ellie emerges in the kitchen after dressing in baggy sweatpants and one of his t-shirts, Joel is boiling water on the stove. There’s a strange, rubbery device beside it on the counter.
He cranes his neck when she enters, and he offers her this weird smile. It’s equal parts sympathetic and unsure, like he feels for her but also doesn’t really know what to do.
“What is that?” She points to the rubbery-thing.
“That’s a hot water bottle, I found it in the cupboard. You ever used one?”
She shakes her head.
“Well, uh… they can be good for aches and pains and whatnot. You wanna try it?”
A particularly nasty cramp seizes up in her insides as if right on cue, and she nods eagerly, wrapping an arm around her stomach.
“Yes,” she admits quietly. Suddenly, she’s feeling a little hesitant. Back with FEDRA, a display of weakness like this would land her somewhere she didn’t want to be. There was a food chain, reputations to uphold and punishments to avoid.
“Why don’t you go sit down on the couch?” Joel suggests lightly. “I’ll bring this to you. Hungry?”
“Not at all.” She wrinkles her nose at the prospect of forcing food into her cramped up body. She knows he’s going to argue though. Skipping meals has been a big no-no since their arrival.
“Okay,” he says easily. He turns back around to tend to his water bottle preparations.
Ellie blinks in surprise, having fully expected dissent from him. She eyes him suspiciously, waiting for him to realize he’s just broken one of his most tantamount rules, but he doesn’t say anything further.
Befuddled, she slinks into the living room and curls up on her side on the sofa. She’s supposed to go with Joel today for an apprenticing job replacing a rotted porch. The thought of climbing underneath foundations and helping him carry beams in her present condition is downright miserable.
Joel brings her the weird rubber bottle a few minutes later, holding it out like she’s supposed to know what to do with it.
“Do I drink from it?” she asks.
“What? Of course not.” He looks at her like he’s trying to decide if she’s messing with him.
“Well… what do I do with it?”
“Just… lay it across whatever hurts. See?” He presses the bottle against his own abdomen as an example.
“ Ohhhh.” Ellie takes it from his hands and curls it up against her belly. She has to resist the urge to sigh in a burst of relief. The raw, twisting shred of the cramps doesn’t go away, but the heat is enough to soothe the tension in her body and make her muscles relax.
“ Mmmmmm .” Her eyes close involuntarily. “Magic bottle.”
“Helping?” Joel asks.
She nods. “Good stuff. Thanks dude. Is this a Before thing?”
The couch dips beside her as he sits down with a huff. “I mean, they’ve been around since then. But I’ve seen people usin’ em still. Tess had one.”
Ellie’s throat feels tight for a moment at his casual mention of Tess, even though she’s glad he feels okay enough to talk about it these days.
“Is that why you’re such an expert then?” Ellie muses lightly.
He snorts. “Don’t get too excited, far from an expert. But… no. That ain’t why.”
Oh. She’s suddenly reminded that she isn’t the only little girl Joel has ever been solely responsible for.
“I’m sure Sarah was grateful to have the Period King around to help her out,” she says.
“No. That ain’t gonna be a thing. Don’t ever say that again.”
“Period King?”
“Ellie, I swear to-“
“Alright alright!” Ellie laughs, opening her eyes to see his flustered expression. “I won’t say it again. Even if you’ve earned the title.”
“It’s just a hot water bottle, brat. Don’t expect no special treatment.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
They sit in a comfortable silence for a while. Joel frowns at the crossword puzzle book Tommy had found for him last week, looking like a true grandpa. Ellie leafs through the Savage Starlight comic she’d left on the coffee table last night.
It’s a peaceful, nice rhythm they’ve fallen into lately. She likes that Joel enjoys quiet time the same way she does, not needing to speak, but being adjacent to the people you like and doing your own thing. He’s never been one for useless small talk.
She loses track of time, only noticing that they’re going to be late for their porch-shift because she hears the sound of people leaving their houses outside. Her eyes go wide. Joel is very punctual, especially when he’s made a promise to another Jackson resident. She can’t ruin his reputation this early.
Ellie shoves the bottle off and draws her aching body into a sitting position, unable to help the sharp intake of breath at the surge of discomfort. Her organs twist and turn, abdomen clenching in protest at the sudden movement.
“Hey, hey where’s the fire?” Joel lays a hand on her arm, and she looks over at his worried face.
“We’re gonna be late,” she insists, “we told Mrs. Stead we’d be there to fix her porch!”
“Oh, don’t sweat it, kid. I asked Maria to let her know we’d reschedule.” He shakes his head like it’s no big deal.
Ellie blinks in confusion. “Why?”
Joel arches an eyebrow. “You ain’t feelin’ well.”
She stares at him for a moment, utterly perplexed. On the road, they moved forward rain or shine, runny nose, headache, twisted ankle, whatever. They had a job to do.
Back at FEDRA school, the kids went to classes, drills, training and then did their jobs as long as they could stay on their feet. Ellie remembers a particularly hellish shift where she had the flu and was scheduled for bomb-scouting training. That was a rough day for anyone who didn’t like to see projectile vomit.
And now, she’s so healthy that her period is back in full swing, and Joel’s benching her from handing him tools? Moreover, he’s staying home?
“I don’t understand.” There’s worry tinting her words now as she looks at him wide-eyed. “Am I… not doing a good job?”
Joel’s expression morphs into one of complete confusion. “What? Not at all kid, you’re doing amazing. I like havin’ you as my little trainee. We’ll get the porch replaced as soon as you’re back to 100%.”
Ellie is confused, and honestly a little overwhelmed by his fucking nice he’s being. Part of her is sure this sudden swell of emotions is due to the lack of control she has over her body at present, but the other part of it feels genuine.
No one has ever cared enough to look after her like this.
“Joel,” her voice is a bit disbelieving, “that’s so fucking nice.”
Chuckling, he reaches down and grabs the discarded bottle for her. “No it ain’t kid, that’s how it oughta be.”
Ellie presses the bottle against her stomach again, overwhelmed by the feeling of being cared about.
-
Sometime around midday she falls asleep, curled up on the couch with her feet in Joel’s lap. The warm sun streaming in through the living room windows feels nice on her face. Joel’s refilled the bottle with fresh hot water for her three times, keeping it at the perfect temperature to ease her discomfort as much as possible.
There’s an old movie playing on the dinky little DVD player that mercifully still works, though the collection of films needs some updating, according to Joel. He keeps talking about this Curtis VS Viper movie, he is confident he’ll find an old copy sometime soon and trade for it.
It’s a serene little pocket of rest, until her eyes drift open against the sunbeams and her nose wrinkles up at the realization of being awake. Her insides feel like tangled up chain links, tugging and twisting on her abdomen. Her head is throbbing and her pulse is radiating through her skull. She adjusts on the couch, and gasps at the sharp twinge of discomfort in her lower back.
Fuuuuuuck , this is the worst one she’s ever had.
“Ellie?” Joel’s voice is muffled, though his footsteps become clear as she looks up and sees him enter the living room with more hustle than is probably necessary. “You alright?”
No you old jackass, my insides are turning into a blood smoothie! Are you fucking stupid?
“Okay, obviously from your glare that wasn’t the right question,” he mutters when she doesn’t reply. “Anything I can do?”
“Can you rip out my uterus and get it as far away from me as possible?” she growls with cold malice in her voice.
“Not without killin’ ya.” Joel delivers this bad news with a small twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Something funny you dickhead?” Even Ellie is a little surprised at the genuine anger in her voice. Normally when she calls him names it's playful and teasing. Right now he’s pissing her the fuck off.
“Not at all.” He shakes his head dismissively, though she knows his face well enough to see the amusement in his eyes.
“You are making me so angry,” she snaps, sitting up fully and wincing in pain as her body protests the movement. She hangs her head low between her shoulders and exhales.
Despite her shitty attitude, he steps forward almost on instinct at the sight of her pained movements. He doesn’t touch her, but he gently asks, “what hurts, kiddo?”
“Fucking everything. ” Normally she’d be ashamed at how whiny and soft her voice is, but right now all she wants to do is melt into a puddle and never suffer the wrath of reproductive organs ever again. “Can’t we please have Nurse Smarty Pants just take this uterus shit out of me? It’s not like I need it!”
He grimaces. “You might change your mind about that later, kiddo. Besides, I don’t think Jackson’s got the facilities for a surgery like that.”
“I’m never gonna change my mind about that,” she insists, needing him to understand that she means it and it’s not hormone-induced hysteria or whatever the fuck sexist old men think girl’s rational thoughts are.
“Well that’s fine Ellie,” he doesn’t miss a beat, “still, I doubt they’ll approve cuttin’ into a kid and yankin’ out her innards. Sorry.”
“ Why ?” She drops her head into her hands and blinks back the hot tears that want to stream out down her cheeks.
“Because they’re evil bastards,” Joel murmurs with no trace of teasing in his voice. She feels his weight shift beside her on the couch. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, which makes her reflexively lean into him. He smells so familiar, lemon and pine soap, fresh laundry, nothing like the dirt, grime and BO on the road. His arms are warm, strong around her. She listens to the steady rhythm of his heart, trying to keep the stupid tears from falling.
“J-Joel,” she sniffles. She doesn’t know what she’s asking him for, but her voice is pleading.
“I’m here darlin’,” he replies softly.
“I sorta liked it better when I didn’t have to deal with this.” Ellie wipes at her face, desperate to keep her cheeks dry.
“Can’t say I blame ya’,” he sighs, “but that ain’t healthy, kiddo. You know that well as I do. I’m real glad you’re healing up enough and gettin’ better. Still, I know it sucks.”
“You don’t know, ” she seethes.
“You’re right,” Joel concedes.
Ugh, obviously this isn’t his first rodeo with a PMSing teenager. He’s so fucking annoying.
“You breathe so loud I can like feel it in my skull,” is all she can muster.
Joel snorts, and begins removing his arm from around her shoulders.
“No!” Ellie exclaims, grappling at his wrist to keep him there.
“I can’t breathe any quieter kid.”
“It’s okay, I don't care.”
“How magnanimous of you.”
“I don’t know what that word means but you’re using your sarcastic voice. Stop being rude to me!”
“Oh, I can’t be rude but you can call me a dickhead and say I breathe too loud?” he demands.
“Are you a fucking idiot Joel?”
He purses his lips thoughtfully. “You know what… maybe Nurse Smarty Pants can rip this thing outta you. It’s making you even more crotchety than usual.”
“Seriously, crotch -ety is the word you choose to insult me?”
“You’re foul, kid.”
She swallows hard, ignoring the barb she knows he doesn’t mean. It’s been a while since she felt this way, and she’s never dealt with this with someone else as support. She knows she’s pushing him away too hard, being too cold. He just wants to help.
But he doesn’t understand how wrong she feels in her own body. It’s fortuitous really, that she hasn’t gotten her womanly gift at all since the nightmare with David. She could try not to think about how powerless she was. In that moment, if he’d succeeded in his vile acts, he could have changed her life forever.
When the other girls at FEDRA school talked about growing up, finding a good husband and having babies -mostly to try and get a break from military duties- Ellie always thought, pfft, fuck that. Not me.
Obviously the husband bit is a no go on every single front, always was. But now, more than ever, she’s so sure about the baby bit that she almost considers racing down to the clinic to plead that they take away any opportunity for that to happen.
She’s a woman, a girl actually, she knows that. She’s fine with that. But these defined lines, a weakness she has that a man could take advantage of, something she has no control over…she isn’t fine with that.
What if the next time there’s a David, he doesn’t fail? What if she ends up pregnant? Obviously it’s a harrowing reality, Nurse Smarty Pants had even asked her if that was the case on their first clinic visit.
Suddenly, she’s overwhelmed by the horrific image of herself being forced to carry a baby. It’s an actual fucking nightmare that the ever-present cramps in her abdomen remind her is a total possibility.
If something bad happens to her again, and there’s no machete this time… what if…what if-
“Ellie?” Joel’s gruff voice cuts into her panicked inner monologue. “Hey, I was just messin’ around kid. I didn’t mean that.”
“I know,” she replies in a curt tone.
Her hands are trembling. She stuffs them underneath her thighs and tries to inhale evenly. The last thing she wants to do is explain to Joel that she’s having a borderline panic attack because she just fucking realized having a period means people can knock you up against your will.
Totally normal thoughts for a fourteen-year-old girl to have, right?
“You’re breathin’ like a rabbit,” he tells her quietly. It’s something he says when he can tell she’s on the verge of a freakout. A warning to her that she’s crossing a line from okay to not okay , but also letting her know that he’s aware of it, and she’s not alone.
She doesn’t even know what it means. Do rabbits breathe fast? How the hell would he even know that?
It does ground her though, forces her to settle her shoulders and inhale slowly to not let the alarm overwhelm her. She’s being a little psychotic, she thinks. Her own traumatic experiences compounding on top of unwanted hormones invading her body.
That doesn’t change the fact that the fear is very real.
“I-I’m fine,” she manages, “I’m just hurting, I guess.”
“I’m sorry baby,” he murmurs, and she wishes he’d chosen a different pet name. “What can I do Ellie? Let me help.”
It’s a really dumb question. Your uterus is shredding itself, your back and head feel like someone’s hit them with a hammer, and you’re deathly afraid someone is going to attack you in a way you just barely escaped from last time, and force an unwanted medical invasion inside you. How about a fucking hot water bottle?
She almost tells him so, but she’s been mean enough to him already when he’s only trying to help. She should be grateful he’s not a FEDRA officer, he’d already have beaten her and thrown her in The Hole for her gross insubordination. And for the crying.
“Thanks for being nice to me, even when I don’t deserve it,” she whispers.
“You always deserve it,” comes his immediate reply.
He holds her again for a while, and it’s nice, but it isn’t enough to soothe her worries.
They eat leftover mac n’ cheese that Tommy brings over for dinner. Ellie actually has a bit of an appetite, considering she hasn’t eaten all day, and Joel just seems glad to be getting something in her system after constant attempts and refusals.
As the cramps rage inside her, it’s been hard to get the whole subject off her mind. She wonders how the hell Maria did it, or her own mom for that matter. The thought of inflicting that on her mom, albeit unintentionally, makes her feel sick to her stomach.
She must still be looking anxious, because Joel gets her attention before she can distract him with a pun she’s had locked and loaded.
“Thinkin’ pretty hard over there, don’t let your head explode.”
“How long are people pregnant for?” she asks, before she can decide against it.
Joel pauses with a forkful of macaroni halfway to his mouth, craning his neck and cocking an eyebrow at her in that way he does when she’s said something real funky. It’s a mix of confusion and amusement.
“You want a biology lesson?” He seems confused.
“If you don’t know the answer, that’s all you had to say.” She shrugs teasingly, going back to her food.
Joel rolls his eyes. “About nine or so months, usually closer to ten. Why?”
“Just curious.” Ellie resists the urge to grimace. “You know…just thinking about when Rosie was born. Do you think it was terrible for Maria?”
“Oh.” His eyebrows pull together thoughtfully. “That’s…uh…I’m sure it was worth it for her.”
“I don’t really know anything about it. They didn’t teach us that stuff in FEDRA school. I just know the whole thing is gross.”
He snorts. “Is it?”
“Isn’t it?” Ellie pushes some cheesy noodles around on her plate, averting her eyes as she asks her next question. “Was it when Sarah was born? Gross, I mean.”
“Not really,” Joel decides after a moment of quiet deliberation. “You’re not really focusin’ on all that stuff. I’ve seen much grosser shit in my life, ‘specially since then. It was uh…” his eyes get a faraway look in them for a moment, like they sometimes do when he thinks about the Before Times, “it was pretty amazing, actually.”
“Hm.”
Joel spears another piece of macaroni and shoves it into his mouth. “Why do you ask?”
She scowls at his garbled voice. “Dude, chew and then talk. You’re always lecturing me about that!”
In response, he gives her a tight grin, teeth covered in gooey cheese and noodles.
“God’s gift to women.” She shovels more noodles into her own mouth with a roll of her eyes.
“Really though,” Joel swallows noisily, for dramatic effect no doubt, and gestures at her with his empty fork, “you plannin’ for the future or just suddenly interested in the miracle of life?”
Ellie offers him an exaggerated gagging noise. “That shit’s fucked up. I told you before. I’m never getting pregnant. ”
“Me either,” he agrees.
“You’re so stupid.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“It’s a miracle we’re still alive.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Joel chuckles and holds his water glass up to her.
Ellie snorts, but clacks her glass of juice against his so hard that some sloshes out onto his hand.
“Fuckin’ orange juice,” he grumbles.
Joel is so fucking weird. He’s the only freak Ellie’s ever met who doesn’t like fruit. Give the old coot a can of watery green beans though, and he’s in heaven. When they first saw the greenhouse in Jackson, with Tommy’s okay, he’d knelt down to pluck a fresh carrot and dug in like a starving man at a buffet. So goddamn weird.
“So… it’s not that gross, and probably not as scary as I’m picturing it?” Ellie guesses after a near-comfortable quiet settles around them.
Joel looks at her quickly, his expression showing he’d clearly forgotten the subject at hand. After a few blinks, he nods in recognition and speaks.
“Scary might be the wrong word…” he posits, “nerve-wracking? I dunno. Why do you ask, seriously?”
Ellie purses her lips, debating whether or not she wants to tell Joel what thought is running through her mind at the moment.
“What’re you chewin’ on there?” he asks after a beat of watching her contemplative face. “It ain’t just the macaroni.”
It’s sort of annoying how well he can read her these days, even though she can do the same to him.
“Marlene told me something before they put me under,” she admits, “about my mom.”
Joel looks surprised by this. His shoulders straighten up at the mention of Marlene, his jaw sets, his forehead smooths out and the creases around his mouth tighten. He’s all ears, attentive as a person can be when someone else is talking.
“What is it that she told you?” he asks. His voice is very calm and unemotional.
Ellie knows he doesn’t want to talk about any of it. The Fireflies, Marlene, the procedure, what he must’ve had to do to get her out of there. Ellie doesn’t really want to talk about it either. She still isn’t quite sure how she feels about all of it. It’s just a lot to try and sort through.
On one hand, even though he told her they wanted to murder her for a scant chance at the cure, she probably would have died in a second for that tiny sliver of a possibility.
On the other, if it had been Joel unconscious on that table with no choice, she would have killed every one of those fuckers before they could cut into his brain.
It’s confusing. Better not to think about it.
“She told me that my mom was attacked by an infected while she was giving birth to me,” Ellie replies in a soft voice.
“Jesus Christ…” there’s genuine disbelief in Joel’s face now, his monotone facade replaced with horror.
“She was alone,” Ellie continues, scraping her fork through the remnants of her noodles, “they think -uh thought- I’m immune because it bit her before she could cut my um…what’s that thing called? The thing that’s like a blood rope between the mom and baby?”
Joel grimaces. “Umbilical cord.”
“Yep, that thing.”
“Ugh. Blood rope , Ellie?”
“I…don’t know who my dad was,” she continues quietly, “I just…I hope they loved each other.. I hope she wanted …that.”
“I’m sure they did, darlin’.” His voice is gentle.
“Anyhoo, I just…um, I dunno. Marlene mentioned me potentially passing on my immunity to…my kids. The whole concept just freaks me out.” Ellie adjusts uncomfortably in her chair, feeling vulnerable and awkward. He obviously can’t understand any of this, and it feels weird to even try to explain the surface points of her fears.
Joel sets his fork down, brushing his hands off on his jeans before one of them tentatively reaches across the table. He gives her hand a squeeze, and she squeezes back, grateful for his easy comfort.
“Firstly, you ain’t obligated to pass down anything. That’s a crackpot theory Ellie, and she shouldn’t have-“ he pauses to inhale deeply, composing himself, “whatever they told you, don’t let it get under your skin.”
She nods limply, but he isn’t done speaking yet.
“What happened to your mama was just…” he shakes his head with a frown, “fuckin’ awful, Ellie. I’m real sorry you lost her before you got to meet her. I’m real sorry she went through that. I know she must’ve been amazing.”
She purses her lips. “You can’t know that.”
“Oh, I sure can.”
“How?”
“Nobody lame could make a kid like you,” Joel taps his finger on her knuckle.
Ellie glances at her lap, face feeling warm with the praise.
“Anyway, you don’t ever have to worry about that if you don’t want to. ‘Specially right now. You’re just a kid. That kinda thinkin’ is for adults, okay?”
I was a kid when I met David, too. That doesn’t seem to fucking matter.
“And if the whole thing is upsettin’ you,'' he continues, “you don’t have to hang out around Rosie so much. Most teenagers don’t anyway with their little cousins.”
Her heart clenches in her chest. He’s so fucking loyal, so caring. He’s putting her worries ahead of his own baby niece. How the fuck did she ever find her way to the most amazing person on Earth? How did she ever get him to care for her?
“Babies don’t bother me,” she assures him, “ especially not Rosie. I love her. Besides, I was around a lot of them in FEDRA school. We did rotations where we’d take care of the little kids.”
She goes back to her food, not noticing Joel’s stare is lingering on her face until she looks back up at him.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothin’... they made you take care of the babies?”
“Uh-huh.”
He seems perplexed by this. “Why not the adults?”
Ellie laughs. “Dude, they barely took care of us. That’s just how it was. It was one of our jobs. We had lots of jobs. Trust me, making sure the babies didn’t brain themselves on furniture was way better than cleaning up after the horses or learning to scout for hidden bombs.”
She shovels more mac’ n cheese into her mouth, again noticing that his eyes can’t seem to pull off her face. Confused, she wipes at her cheek.
“I got something on my face?” she demands.
“No.” Joel blinks and finally breaks his gaze. “Sometimes I just… forget, I guess.”
“What?”
“That even before we met, you never got to be a kid.” His eyebrows are creased with displeasure.
She swallows the lump in her throat, his words leaving a bad taste on her tongue. Sometimes she forgets that she’s supposed to be a kid. Weight of the world on your shoulders and all that.
“Well, hey.” Ellie shrugs. “That’s what this place is for, right?” She gestures obligatorily at the house around them. “Safety and normalcy, all that shit Maria and Tommy preach about. Menstruation and all.”
“That’s right.” Joel nods, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself. He clears his throat and gestures to her clean plate. “More?”
“Fuck yeah.”
She doesn’t miss the relieved smile on his face as he collects her plate to get a second helping.
Ellie doesn’t sleep well that night.
Even though Joel gets her a fresh hot bottle before bed, a cold bag of ice to put on her temples, and even lets her take a long bath and use up all the hot water for a second time today, she’s restless.
She feels uncomfortable in her body. Not just from the pain, but also the implications of what the pain stems from.
Eventually, she falls into a tumultuous slumber. But her subconscious is plagued by the same fears.
She dreams she’s on her back in a burning steakhouse. Heat laps at her face, smoke fills her lungs. Bright orange flames blaze in her peripherals.
More pressing, the weight on her hips and the hand on her throat.
The fighting is the part I like the most
There’s no fear in love
In her dream there’s no machete under the table. Tonight, his zipper moves until it’s all the way undone. And so does hers.
She wakes herself up screaming, thrashing and clutching at the sheets.
It takes her a moment to realize that she’s in her bedroom in Jackson, gasping for wheezing breaths. Her inner thighs feel sticky and wet, and for a moment she’s terrified that the dream wasn’t a dream.
Then, she clicks on her bedside lamp, lifts the blanket and curses noisily. So much for sparing her sheets. She must’ve inserted that stupid fucking cup wrong when she changed it before bed.
Before she can make a move, Joel bursts in, shoving the half-open door so hard that the knob cracks into the drywall, leaving a splintery mark.
“Ellie?” He rushes to her side, and she quickly rearranges the blankets so he doesn’t see her horrible situation. “Hey, you alright? Bad dream?”
She nods jerkily, still trying to catch her breath from the sudden, unpleasant awakening.
Just a dream, she tries to tell herself. But her frantic gasps won’t seem to listen.
“Easy,” Joel’s low voice smooths into her ears like silk. “You’re safe. It’s me. You’re home.”
“Joel.” Her voice is trembling so much she can barely get the words out. “I’m scared.”
His expression twists into one she can only describe as devastated. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” Joel sits tentatively down on the side of her bed. “I’m here, you’re safe. It’s okay darlin’.”
“But what about when you’re not here?” Ellie manages weakly. “When I’m alone? With other men?”
His back goes pinstraight at this, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. His voice comes out more restrained this time. “Ellie. When have you been alone with other men?”
“N-not since David.”
Joel takes a big, slow breath in. She sees his fists clench at his sides, then unclench. There’s a count of five before he speaks again, through his teeth this time.
“I ain’t ever gonna let anything like that happen ag-”
“It might not be up to you, it wasn’t last time!” she reminds him, even though she sees the way it hurts. “I’m not asking you to be my bodyguard, Joel. I just… what the fuck am I supposed to do? I was still having a period then. If I hadn’t…done what I did… He could’ve… he could’ve gotten me pregnant.”
Joel flinches. The disgust and horror on his face at the concept does little to reassure her.
“Now I’m healthy again, I guess. Now anyone could-”
“Ellie,” he interjects, clearly expressing some very impressive composure, “that will never happen. I promise.”
She can see the sadness in his eyes. She already knows what he’s thinking, just based on nightmares he’s had that he reluctantly shared with her, and his own guilt complex.
He’s thinking it isn’t right that a little girl has these fears, that she shouldn’t even be thinking about this stuff. And that it’s his fault because he couldn’t protect her from it last time.
“I’m afraid,” she whispers it this time, shame and embarrassment burning her cheeks, “maybe it was better when I was too sick for any of that to be possible.”
“Jesus Christ.” The words come out of him in a low breath, an agonized sound. He shuts his eyes and inhales sharply.
For a few tense beats, it’s quiet between them.
“Ellie… I wish I knew what to fuckin’ say. I wish I could fix this for ya, kid. I really do. But… I can’t blame you for being scared. What happened to you…” his fists clench up again, “no child should ever - no one should ever- have to go through that. And I… I guess I see why this is bringin’ up some of that fear for you. You’re right, it could have gone…real fuckin’ bad.”
In a way, his honest words are a bit of a relief. Ellie spent most of the day thinking she was an insane person for having these worries. Even if he’s just saying it for her benefit, it’s nice to hear that he understands where she’s coming from.
“So… you don’t think I’m crazy?” she asks in a frail voice.
“No, baby girl. Not at all. Everything you’ve been through? I’m amazed you’re as tough as you are. Shit, even Sarah had these worries, and nothin’ like that ever happened to her.”
He doesn’t finish the sentence with words she knows he is thinking. I was able to keep her safe from that, at least. I’m sorry I failed you.
“Sarah did too?” Ellie asks, a bit warily.
“Not in the same way,” he amends, “but shit, I’ll never forget the first day she came home from school and told me she was bleeding in her pants.” He winces. “Not an easy conversation for a 28 year old guy to have.”
Ellie finds a small laugh in the back of her throat. “You must have been so embarrassing and awful.”
“Oh I was. I still feel sorry for the poor thing.” He shakes his head ruefully.
“What did you say to her?”
It’s clear that this is something Joel would never admit to under different circumstances, but apparently the fact that it’s distracting Ellie from her mental breakdown is enough incentive to humiliate himself permanently.
“I didn’t know what to say, so I told her: well, honey, it means you’re becoming a woman.”
“No!” Ellie gasps. “You didn’t!”
“Yup.”
“Oh Joel, that’s the worst! No one likes to hear that!”
“Trust me, I get that now.” He chuckles dryly. “Then, because my dumbass wasn’t prepared, I had to go to the drugstore solo and try to find pads suitable for an eleven-year old. Left my poor baby at home for over an hour while I tried to sort that one out.”
“You suck,” Ellie says, but there’s no malice in her voice.
It’s honestly a sweet story, and she likes knowing that he tried so hard even before the world went to shit. It’s a very Joel thing, not always succeeding at something, but still doing his best until the bitter end. Like when he asks her about her astronaut books and she gives him a convoluted rundown of the latest chapter, how he just smiles and nods and says, “ I swear that same thing happened in Top Gun, when-”
“Pretty much, yeah,” he agrees, “but I figured it out eventually. By the time I got home, I was feeling so guilty. Didn’t know what she needed so I just brought her everything. Heating pad, hot water bottle, painkillers, soup, her favorite candy, a new stuffed animal. Overcompensating, I think.”
Ellie’s chest feels warm at the thought of him doing all of that for his daughter. He may be a deranged murderer, but goddamn if he isn’t a sweetheart at his core. It would have fundamentally changed who she is, if she’d had someone like Joel her entire life. She’d be different in all the best ways.
“Turns out, I was doing too much, just got on her nerves.”
“Ah, so that’s not a new thing for you.”
“Nope.” A smile teases the corner of his lips. “Anyway, she uh…ended up coming into my room that night crying. I got her all snuggled up in bed with me and rubbed her back for a while. Asked her what was wrong and…” his face falls, and he looks at Ellie furtively.
“What?” Ellie asks, so invested in the story she’s almost forgotten the reason he’s telling it.
“She told me her little friend said that this means now she can have babies .” He scoffs, an angry sound, lingering frustration at a strange child even after two decades. “Had her real freaked out. I mean, fuck, she was a baby. I’d never really realized before then, that they put pressure on girls to grow up too fast even from the time they’re little ones. Here’s this sweet girl, holding a stuffed bunny and wiping tears from her little eyes, freaking out because she ain’t ready to have a baby. ”
Ellie looks down at her trembling hands, folded up on top of the blanket. It’s so weird to hear him retell this other girl’s story, so different from her own, but in some ways, exactly the same. That was basically how the period thing was explained to her, as if now there was some sudden expectation that she’d become a mother someday. Like it was just something girls did, period. (No pun intended, for once.)
“I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her.” Joel’s voice is gentle, as is his palm as it reaches out to cup Ellie’s cheek. He nudges her face up softly, encouraging their eyes to meet in the dimly-lit room.
“You don’t ever gotta do somethin’with your body that you don’t wanna do. That includes everything from eatin’ food you don’t like, to gettin’ your brain cut into for a slim shot at a vaccine, and all the way up to having a baby. It’s your body. No one else gets to make decisions about it. Got that?”
Ellie nods, a little hypnotized by his words. It’s what she wants to hear, what she needs to hear. Reassurance that this stupid biological vulnerability can’t determine what her life is going to be, or what happens to her. That it can’t be used as a weapon against her.
Really, his words are just words. They do nothing to change reality. The fear still pangs at the back of her mind, a constant reminder of the ways she can be taken advantage of and controlled.
But… it’s fucking nice to know that someone’s in her corner, for once. Someone wants to protect her from this shit. Someone wants her to have agency, and not be afraid at every moment of her life.
“You’re just a little girl, Ellie.” Joel shakes his head sadly. “I know all you’ve ever had is military fucks who controlled your every move, or Fireflies who used you for their gain, or…shit, even me who treated you like cargo. I promise, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making all that up to you. You’re gonna be a kid. You don’t gotta worry about that adult shit. Let me do all the worryin’, alright? Just be a kid .”
She’s nodding before he can even finish his little spiel, because his words break through a dam in her chest. She’s fighting off tears pretty valiantly, but she can’t deny that all she wants right now is to follow Sarah’s example, let him hold her and rub her back in that expert way he does because he’s obviously had practice.
Ellie opens her arms, and he leans forward, just as she remembers the horror show beneath her blanket. Panicked, she shoves him back with all her might.
“Sorry,” Joel says immediately, “are you-”
“Y-you have to get out for a minute,” she manages.
He looks blindsided. “Now… you could see why you sayin’ that so abruptly would have me kinda worried, right?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Ellie tries to sound reassuring. “It’s just…um…”
Fucking fuck.
“My sheets.” She unfurls the blanket and reveals her bloodstained pajama pants and mattress.
“Your…” his confused voice cuts off, and he glances down at her lap before understanding crosses over his face.
Ellie wants to disappear. This exact infraction is what got her such a long stint in The Hole last time. She doesn’t think she can bear to see anger on his face now. Not after everything he’s just said to her.
“Hey, easy baby girl.” His soft words get her attention. His hand is cupping her cheek again. “It’s alright, honey. Go to the bathroom and do what you need to do. I’ll handle this.”
“You’re…not angry?” She hates how small she sounds.
“Now why would I be angry?” Joel looks at her with genuine curiosity.
“I…ruined the sheets.” There’s a sniffle in her voice now that’s utterly humiliating.
“Honey, that ain’t your fault.” His fingertip tenderly swipes away the beginnings of tears blinking from her eyes. “I’d never get angry at you for somethin’ you got no control over.”
It sounds so simple when he says it. So logical. So kind. It takes no effort for Joel to be a decent person, apparently.
Why the fuck was it so hard for the FEDRA people?
“Go on,” he urges her, “get cleaned up. I got this.”
Ellie is at a loss for words. How do you thank a person for being everything you need all at once?
“I love you.” The words stumble out of her lips before she can agree to saying them. Stupid fucking PMS.
He looks taken aback, but only for the briefest moment before he composes himself and replies with such assurance it almost takes her breath away.
“I love you more, baby.” Then, he leans over and presses a long kiss to her head. Ellie could practically melt into his arms right there, but she has to deal with some yuck shit first.
She climbs out of bed, her awkward gait a little embarrassing, but he’s not even looking at her when she glances over her shoulder from the bedroom doorway.
Joel Miller, certified torture expert, angry smuggler, accomplished murderer, and terrible Boggle player, is carefully gathering up Ellie’s bloodstained bedsheets in his arms. He moves with the quiet efficiency of a man on a mission, completely unbothered by the contents of his laundry load.
Ellie allows herself a moment to be grateful. If she had to find herself a spare Dad out there in the fucked up world, she’s really glad she managed to snag one who’s done it before. One who was born to do it, really.
I love you more.
She holds on to those words like they’re a shield, choosing to believe that his love can protect her from all the horrifying things in this world that want to hurt her.
In the end, that love is the only thing she can count on, no matter what.