Chapter Text
He always hated that word. Everything it meant, everything it stood for. The way it was designed to insult and belittle.
On too little sleep, half a meal scarfed down that morning before running back and forth from the dam helping with repairs, and a fierce guilt knotted in his stomach after hearing that Ellie had a rough day at school and had gone home alone while he was out – it doesn’t even cross his mind to walk away.
“Little bitch.”
His vision goes dark when some asshole snaps it at his kid, taking a step too close, and then all he can see is red. All he can feel is fear and rage. He won’t let anyone hurt her. He hears noise around him, feels hands on his waist, his shoulders. None are strong enough to pull him off or break through his rage until his elbow catches something when he recoils sharply for his next punch and he hears Ellie shout.
“Fuck,” she bites, and he’s still got the asshole’s shirt balled tight in his other fist when he looks over his shoulder to see her holding her face. She moves her hands and she’s shaking, her lips and chin already stained with dark red blood when she meets his eyes. She covers it quickly, “Joel,” she says with the same gentle firmness she uses trying to talk down a spooked horse, “I’m okay.”
He hit her.
He drops the asshole and stumbles back, looking only at Ellie even though he can feel more than a few pairs of eyes on him, all backing away from him when he moves.
He knows he’s been a monster before, but he’s never really felt like one until now.
“I’m ok,” she says again, but she flinches when he steps toward her and he loses the swear under her breath to the ringing in his ears.
“Easy, Joel,” someone says, keeping their distance but still moving to stand in front of Ellie. He recognizes him from the small construction crew he’s been running with but any camaraderie they had was obliterated by the overwhelming certainty that he has no damn business standing between him and his kid and it breaks him to know that he completely understands why it looks like he should.
He hurt her and then he scared her. His voice is rough and cracks when he speaks, “go to Tommy’s so he can clean you up,” he tells her.
“Joel,” he ignores her call as he stalks away from the square, resolutely ignoring the few bystanders tending to his other victim.
The exchange behind him is muffled.
“Honey, let’s go find your Uncle.”
“Fuck off,” she says. Footsteps follow down the road in the general direction of their house. “Joel, stop.”
And he does.
His chest is on fire and his damn lungs won’t work so he falls back against the splintering wood of an old utility shed. “I’m sorry,” he chokes, “Ellie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t - “ he cuts off his apology with a sob and covers his face.
“I know,” she says and the way her voice is starting to waver makes him cry harder. He hasn’t cried in public more than a few times in his entire life and never in front of Ellie, not like this
He wants to grab her and pull her closer so he can assess the damage he’s done, but he can’t get out of his head enough to think about anything other than how much he’s just fucked this up. How he’s just someone else who hurt her.
“Tommy!” she calls, but he can’t bring himself to look up.
He hears twigs crunch under foot as he approaches, “Shit.”
“I don’t know what to do,” he hears her say.
“What the hell happened?” Tommy asks.
“Fucking Seth called me a little bitch and he lost it,” she says, “I tried to pull him off, but I got too close and then he freaked out. I tried to help,” she’s angry in that miserable, self-deprecating way that he can’t stand.
“Darlin, this ain’t on you,” Tommy says.
Crunching leaves get closer and there’s a hand on his shoulder pulling him out of his head, “Joel, we gotta getcha home, okay?” Tommy says, then quieter, “You’re scaring Ellie. Can you walk?”
Of course he’s scaring her.
“Take her back to yours. Clean her up?” he asks, “I don’t - “ he can’t even finish the thought, the guilt eating at his chest is eating his words now too.
“Joel,” Tommy says, “you know as well as I do that she’s not gonna budge until you’re safe somewhere. You need to work with me here.”
He's right. He exhales sharply and nods, lets Tommy pull him to his feet. Ellie is still there, keeping her distance, now holding Tommy’s dark blue handkerchief under her nose which by the looks of it hasn't even stopped bleeding. There’s fat tear tracks through the blood smeared on her cheeks.
“Let’s head home,” He says, reaching out to Ellie who just shakes her head and starts walking. “Christ,” he hears Tommy grumble, holding tight to his jacket as he drags him back to their house, not far off. Ellie trails behind them and the light, even footsteps are the only things reassuring him that she hasn’t bolted.
Tommy fumbles with the spare key, keeping one hand on his shoulder. Ellie doesn’t come through until both are fully in the kitchen.
“Joel, sit, please,” Tommy directs, guiding him to the table. He complies easily enough, eyes locked on the swirling wood grain as Tommy steps off to the side, speaking soft enough that he almost doesn’t hear, “Ellie, sweetheart, go rinse off and throw that square and your shirt in the wash. I’ll meet you in the bathroom in a second and we’ll take a look.”
She ducks off silently which Joel notes like a knife to his stomach.
Tommy fills a glass of water and sets it roughly in front of him. He heaves a sigh and looks up, “I’m sorry.”
“I know, Joel,” Tommy says.
“She can’t - she already never felt fucking safe,” he chokes, “and I - “
“Was it on purpose?” Tommy asks, answering himself with a sharp and immediate ferocity that breaks through his haze with a startling realization. Tommy was pissed. “Of course not. Shit happens, but right now your kid is terrified for you, not of you, and being sorry ain’t fucking helping.” He’s nearly yelling by the end of it.
“Tommy - “
“No,” Tommy snaps quieter, after a quick glance up the stiars, “How many fuckin people have to tell you that you need to take care of yourself before you goddamn do it?”
He huffs a sigh, “I just -”
“You know that little girl has been through hell and back ,” Tommy snarls, “but you wanted to handle everything on your own.”
“He - “
“Fuck Seth. He’s a run of the mill fuckin idiot. It’s you who went and beat the shit out of him in town square and clocked your own damn kid while you were at it because you were too gone to be paying attention.” He lets the silence sit, bracing himself on a chair before shoving it away with too much force as he turns to grab a glass from the cabinet. “I’m gonna go clean her up and see what the damage is and you’re gonna drink this glass of water, wash the blood off your hands, and have your shit together by the time I come back. I don’t give a damn how you get it done. Do you understand me?”
All Joel can do is look away and nod.
Tommy stomps his way upstairs and he speaks quietly to Ellie with words he can’t make out. Her softer replies lost to the static in his head.
He drinks the water, washes his hands. He sits and stares at nothing while he runs through what Tommy said over and over and over again. It’s his fault, but he knew that. He just didn't expect Tommy to hit on the issue behind the problem so aggressively.
His anxiety, his panic, all manifesting in blood. It wouldn’t be the first time. He’s usually better about avoiding collateral damage like this. Tess getting too close when he was caught up was one thing. Ellie – he knew it was half a miracle she felt safe around him to begin with.
The creak of steps cuts through another spiral. Tommy reappearing with a cold glare.
“How is she?” Joel asks.
Tommy breathes in deep and slow, pulling a chair back to sit across from him, “Might have a hairline break on her nose, but I didn’t need to set it. Busted lip, but no loose teeth. Says everything feels just fine,” he rattles off her list of physical injuries like they’re the ones he’s worried about. “Think you just clipped her, to be honest. Apparently, she’s got a list of her top 5 bloody noses and this one didn’t even make the cut.”
“That’s - “ he trails off. It’s better than it could have been, but it’s still fucking awful.
“It is what it is,” Tommy says for him, “she’s okay. Might have a couple of black eyes, but I told her she’ll look like a racoon and she said she’s gonna dig through my pantry like one.”
He grunts in response. If she’s making jokes then she’s still around, not lost in her head like he feared. That’s something.
“She’s blaming herself for getting hurt and upsetting you.” Tommy says.
Joel scoffs, mostly at himself, “It ain’t her fuckin fault,” he growls, “that I - “
“Tell her, not me.” Tommy says, “I ain’t leaving until you’re good, Joel, but I have to go hunt down my wife and let her know what happened before she ends up makin decisions with half the story.”
A pause.
“You got anything else to add?”
His hands twitch just to think about it. “There was this guard in Boston, right after Marlene handed her off to me ‘n Tess. Said the same thing to her.” He fiddled with his hands, but Tommy waited patiently for him to finish, “Turned a rifle on her while we were leavin’ the QZ. This guy had a hand in his pocket or moved like – I don’t know. Guess I got a little lost.”
Tommy wipes a hand over his face, “Shit.”
“I couldn’t - and then I realized I’d hit her and I just. Nothin was workin.” Joel says, “Tell Maria I’m sorry too.”
Tommy pushed his chair back and stood, hands on his hips, “you know I loved to blame PTSD for why I got into a fight as much as the next guy,” he says, “but we’re not kids anymore and you will not do that to her,” he says with an unquestionable finality, “Eat, sleep, talk to someone. For fuck’s sake, Joel, it ain’t rocket science.”
“You’re right.”
“Then do it,” Tommy snaps.
“Okay.”
Tommy seems to deflate at that, satisfied, if cautiously so, “Ellie’s in the shower. When she comes down, you’ll say what you need to say. I’ll be back in an hour with some dinner. Consider yourself on house arrest until I can get the council on board with not kicking you out.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” The door closes softly behind him and Joel is left alone.
Ellie pads down the stairs with socked feet in a too big T shirt.
“How’s it feelin,” he asks, clearing the roughness from his throat. He doesn’t expect her to walk straight across the room to his place on the edge of the couch and tuck herself into his side.
“Pretty nosey over there,” she quips softly.
He can’t help but huff a laugh, just out of shock, lifting his arm to let her nestle against his chest.
“Too soon?”
“Jesus, kid. Maybe a little,” he admits
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he sighs, “I guess – I haven’t done a good job of taking care of myself. What happened today didn’t need to.”
She squirms under his arm to tilt her chin up, “I know, I was apologizing for the pun.”
He grunts and tucks a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, “in that case, you should be sorry.”
“I know you’d never hurt me,” she says, “even when you hurt me on accident you always apologize and try to fix it. I think that’s all you can do.”
Christ, this kid.
“When did you get so smart?” He asks.
“Therapy, asshole,” She smirks, “Try it.”
“I think I will,” he says, “can’t have you be the only one with the secrets to the universe over here.”
“Good,” She says.