Chapter Text
Everything Joel learns about the kid is not by choice. He doesn’t want to know a single thing about her beyond whatever is necessary to keep her alive between Boston and Wyoming. Anything he does learn is completely against his will and he does his best to forget it immediately.
Doesn’t succeed very well, even from the start.
–-
After a couple days he already knows too much. Chef Boyardee. Puns. Space.
It would help if she ever shut up, but she doesn’t unless he explicitly tells her to in what she calls his danger voice.
–-
She shuts up after Kansas City, that’s for sure, after she helps him bury a twenty-five-year old kid and his little brother. Doesn’t say a word for a day and a half after asking which way’s west. Doesn’t tell him puns, doesn’t ask about Before, doesn’t ask where they’re going. Just gets up and follows him, stops when he tells her to, walks when he tells her to.
He’s barely been around her a week, and it’s unsettling as fuck, how unnatural it seems.
–-
Thunder wakes him up one night a couple days after Henry and Sam, somewhere in Kansas.
Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep but there were only so many nights he could stay up and keep watch over the kid before inevitably having to sleep himself. They’re in a farmhouse a ways from the nearest road, sleeping on the top floor.
The room is illuminated by a flash of lightning for a split second, and it’s enough for Joel to see that Ellie isn’t in her spot on top of flat cushions against the wall.
“Shit,” he mutters, scrambling upright and unholstering his pistol. There’s a loud rumble of thunder again, and Joel spares a second to wonder if she’s the type of kid who gets scared by storms.
Sarah had been like that, spring storms in Texas sending her scurrying to his room until she was at least ten. Even after that, when she’d stayed in her own room, he would go in to check on her and more often than not find her curled in a ball. He had never known why, since it wasn’t like they’d had particularly terrible storms when she was real little. She seemed to have been born with an innate fear of them, and no amount of reassurances or it's just angels bowling could make her relax.
“Ellie,” Joel hisses, on the off chance someone else somehow got into the house. “Ellie.”
No response, just another clap of thunder.
God-fucking-damnit.
Joel checks the closet first, just in case. Sarah had huddled in hers during more than a few storms, as though the extra walls gave her a better sense of security.
No Ellie.
He clears each room carefully, his footsteps - and anyone else’s - covered by the torrential downpour outside. No Ellie in any of them, in the bathrooms, the closets, and Joel makes his way down to the first floor with a rising panic.
She would fight too hard if someone tried to come snatch her, he reassures himself. They wouldn’t have been able to get her out of the room without waking him. So Ellie would have left the room on her own, which should mean she’s fine.
It’s not much reassurance, honestly, until he gets to the entryway of the house and finds Ellie sitting on the porch with her back against the screen door.
Does she sleepwalk or something? Joel can’t really think of any other explanation, and he makes his steps a little heavier as he approaches. Her head turning to the side for a second is the only indication she’s heard him before she’s facing out again.
He opens the door carefully, giving her a chance to brace herself so she doesn’t fall backwards, and then he steps around her and out onto the porch.
There’s thunder, lightning, a shit ton of rain, but very little wind and the porch is mostly dry. Helps that it’s a large wraparound, meant for sitting out on rocking chairs with a cup of coffee in the fall.
“You alright?” Joel asks gruffly, looking down at Ellie. He scans around them again just to be sure, but a fork of lightning illuminates the yard and he can see just fine that there’s nobody out there.
“Just wanted to come watch the storm,” Ellie replies, her eyes not leaving the space in front of her. The subsequent clap of thunder echoes around them, feels like it rattles Joel's bones.
Ellie leans forward, almost like she’s trying to get closer to the storm. There’s a hint of a smile on her face for a moment.
“Alright, then.” Joel shuffles his feet a little, uncomfortable. Clearly he’d been on the edge of panic for no reason, although he thinks making sure the kid hasn't been snatched and isn’t afraid of storms is completely rational.
“Didn’t mean to freak you out or anything,” Ellie says almost absently, her head tilting as she watches the rain.
“You didn’t.” Joel turns so he’s facing out too, watching the storm instead of her now. “Woke up and you weren’t in the room, so I just wanted to make sure the thunder hadn’t like…scared you or anything.”
“No.” Ellie leans back now, her head resting against the door behind her. “I love thunderstorms. It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to sit and watch one. Never had this good of a vantage point for it either, really.”
It’s not something Joel had ever really considered, that people might enjoy something as mundane as a thunderstorm. It was just electricity in the sky, loud noises that scared kids and could trigger military veterans.
His legs hurt in a way that makes him want to slide down the wall and sit next to Ellie to watch, but it feels a little like he’s intruding on whatever this is she’s doing. Probably ought to go back upstairs and try to get a bit more sleep.
But he also knows he won’t be able to sleep until she’s back upstairs as well.
“Why did you think the thunder would scare me?” Ellie asks with a glance over to him before more lightning pulls her attention away again. Something about her movements seem different than usual, looser even.
It takes her turning to look at him again for Joel to put his finger on it - she’s relaxed. The tension that usually sits in her shoulders and her brow is gone, leaving her looking younger and softer than he’d seen up to this point. He doesn’t like it, the way it pokes at his chest and settles in between his ribs.
“Loud noises scare kids sometimes,” Joel finally answers with a shrug, looking back out at the rain when it becomes too easy to superimpose Sarah over her. Never mind that in this situation his daughter would have been staring at him in abject terror instead of this…unbelievably calm state Ellie is in.
She scoffs a little and even the sound is softer. “I’m not a kid, and –”
“Pretty fuckin’ young,” Joel interjects.
“– and,” Ellie continues a little more loudly, “there’s way worse things to be scared of now anyways.” Her left hand goes to her right forearm almost without thought, fingers tracing the scars exposed by her t-shirt. She usually slept in long-sleeves too, but apparently tonight was a night for out-of-character behavior.
“Yeah, I guess there is,” Joel agrees, but Ellie continues on as if he hadn’t spoken.
“What’s a silly little thunderstorm compared to clickers? Or,” she snorts, “compared to the assholes who ran the FEDRA schools? I’d take sitting exposed in a storm like this over a fucking belt or a day in the Hole any time.”
It feels like she’s punched him in the chest with her words, each one leaving a bruise. Joel had never really spared much thought for the way the QZ military schools were run, always more of a not my circus not my elephants type.
Makes sense, in an awful sort of way, that they beat the kids there to keep them in line. It tracks right along with the general shittiness that is FEDRA and the way they treat civilians. Why would the kids under their care be any different?
He doesn’t think he wants to know what the Hole is.
“You can sit, you know,” Ellie says offhandedly between claps of thunder. There’s a bit more time now between the flashes of lightning and the rumble of thunder, so Joel figures the storm won’t last much longer.
He sits, though, and waits out the rest of it with her silently.
–-
The tension is back in Ellie’s shoulders the next day when they wake up, and she doesn’t mention the little storm-watching session from the night before.
There’s no more thunder or lightning, but there is still a constant, steady downpour outside. Everything’s gray, as far as Joel can see, and his knee aches something awful. More than a few minutes outside and they’ll be soaked through.
Ellie still packs up her stuff and gets ready to leave, watching him warily when he doesn’t do the same.
Joel glances out the window, sighs. “I don’t really care for walkin’ all day in that so we’ll stay here another night, try again in the morning.”
Ellie watches him for another minute before deciding he’s serious, and she drops her backpack on the floor again. “Okay,” is the only response he gets, before she goes back downstairs.
She spends most of the day on the porch watching the rain again.
Joel doesn’t join her.
–-
It’s three days before the rain lets up enough for them to start walking again, so they pack up and head out. It’s muddy as hell, their feet sinking into it every couple of steps, and Joel has half a mind to turn them back around to the house and wait another day for the ground to get more solid. Something happens, they can’t run very well in this, especially Ellie in her ratty sneakers.
He should see about finding her some more sturdy footwear.
Joel turns to say this to her, see if she has a preference - even though their options are likely to be limited to the point that preference won’t matter - and finds her still standing a ways back, staring at the house.
“Ellie?”
She doesn’t respond immediately, just gives the house another long look before turning around and trudging his way. Her steps in the mud are accompanied by a sucking sound every time she lifts a foot.
“Let’s get a move on, old man.”
–-
She’s as chatty as ever within a day of leaving the house, and Joel acts as annoyed by it as he always was.
When they make camp for the first night though, and Ellie is asleep nearby, Joel lets himself watch the steadiness of her breathing and relax.
I’m glad that didn’t break you, he thinks. You’re entirely too tough for that. I won’t let it happen to you again.
–-
It becomes a regular thing then, Ellie missing out on sleep to watch thunderstorms. Sometimes she doesn't really have a choice, since shelter isn't always the easiest thing to find and they're in the storm just as much as she's watching it. She loves it though, smiles even harder when she's sitting in the middle of it than when she's watching from shelter.
Joel had clearly underestimated the number of weather-related issues they would run into out in the Midwest, which he privately feels like an idiot for doing. Tornado Alley covers most of it, so they've gotten lucky on that front, but for his part Joel had forgotten that Texas didn't have a monopoly on ridiculously unpredictable weather. They were apparently just as likely to go from baking in the sun to shivering in a downpour in less than half an hour here in middle-of-nowhere Kansas as they would've been back in Austin.
But every rainstorm or thunderstorm they wait out has the same effect on Ellie, even the ones he's privately worried could turn into tornadoes. She relaxes in a way Joel doesn't think he's really seen anyone do since before the Outbreak. She sits wherever she thinks will get her the best vantage point of the lightning (he pulled her out of a tree more than once), and just takes it all in.
Sometimes Joel sits with her, even though it always feels like he's intruding on something sacred to her when he does. They don't usually talk beyond a that was a loud one or holy shit Joel, did you see that lightning strike but it's...nice. Companionable, even. Not that he would say that to her.
But she's always childishly happy during and after one, the tension of their situation not seeping back into her spine until a day or two later. Joel's found he can prolong it a little if he lets her drown him in puns.
It's worth it.
–-
To say he failed at keeping Ellie healthy and whole would be an understatement. The weight of it drags at him every day that she treks along silent and unresponsive next to him after Colorado, lost in herself somewhere Joel can’t reach.
It’s a silly, stray thought he has once the snow has started melting around them and the sky is blue more often than it’s gray.
Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for a thunderstorm right now.
–-
They’re at the hospital for almost six weeks before that wish comes true. There's been a few small rainstorms, sure, but just short showers that are over in ten minutes. Nothing worth dragging Ellie out of bed for when she's so perpetually exhausted and miserable.
He’s watching her shift in her sleep, drowning in the too-large flannel she’s taken from him (he’s willingly given to her). She shivers a little, cold both from blood draws and from the fact that the doctors refuse to let her wear anything but a hospital gown. One of the nurses, nice woman named Sami, had tried to smuggle him a set of scrubs for her, but they had disappeared along with the rest of the stash she had told him about.
Threatening to take Ellie and leave them behind as corpses had gotten a compromise that let her wear sleep shorts under the gown. It did next to nothing to set Ellie at ease, and the only other thing Joel could do was give her his extra flannels to cover her arms and hunt down extra blankets for her legs. She played it off as always being cold - and there were times he could tell she really was - but he knew it had to do with Silver Lake, with things she hadn't told him about yet.
Now, she’s buried under every possible blanket he could find, and his flannel, one of her hands poking out from under the covers to hold his. Periodically he chafes her fingertips between his palms, when they start to feel a little too chilly for his liking.
Joel’s tracing a thumb back and forth over her knuckles, wishing it would make the crease in her forehead go away as well, when he hears the rumble of thunder outside.
Ellie makes a soft noise of protest but doesn’t wake when he gently removes his hand from hers and walks over to the window. Sure enough, in the distance there's flashes of lightning, and Joel’s never been so grateful for anything in his fucking life.
Quietly, he grabs the wheelchair he’d set aside when Ellie had first started weakening from all the fucking tests and wheels it over to the bed.
“Hey,” he says softly, reaching over to trace the backs of his fingers over her cheek, “baby, wake up.”
Ellie stirs, looking up at him groggily. He hates having to disturb her on one of the rare nights she’d been sleeping deeply, but he also knows if he let her sleep through this she’d be beyond disappointed.
If there's one thing he's not gonna fuckin' do right now, it's disappoint his kid.
“‘S goin’ on?” She asks, leaning into the touch.
“Got somethin’ to show you,” Joel replies, nudging her a little.
Ellie wakes up a little more, enough to look over and see the wheelchair next to him. Her face becomes wounded, even a little flash of anger showing through. “Joel,” she sounds frustrated, “you promised.”
–-
“We’re leaving.” Joel’s throwing their things into their packs, checking the ammo he has for his pistol.
“Joel.”
He doesn’t turn to look at her, can’t yet, or he’ll see the way she was clutching at her throat, gasping for air while he stood by, useless. He’ll hear those desperate cries, entirely too similar to Sarah’s right before he lost her, and he’s not doing that again. Doesn’t matter if it’s a gunshot or an allergic reaction to medicine, he’s not losing another fucking daughter.
“Joel!” Ellie’s voice is insistent now, as strong as it can be when her throat still clearly hurts.
Reluctantly, he turns to look at her. “Ellie –”
She’s laying on her side facing him, still too weak to sit up on her own, oxygen mask strapped to her face. She looks mad, which only frustrates Joel. He is the one who should get to be mad here, at the Fireflies and their incompetence, at everything they’re putting Ellie through with no signs of progress.
“We’re not leaving.”
Joel abandons their packs, walking over to her, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. He’ll need to redo her braid, he thinks absently, taking note of all the strands that have fallen out. “Ellie, they could have killed you.”
“But they didn’t.”
“They –”
“Joel,” her voice is softer and it lodges in his chest, “I have to do this, okay? And I don’t think I can do it without you. So don’t leave, and don’t make me leave. Please.”
“Hey.” His thumb wipes away a tear that’s slipped down her cheek. “I would never leave you here. I would never leave you, period, so don’t even worry about that. I just don’t like what this is doing to you.”
“I know.” She tries to smile but her heart clearly isn’t in it. “But please just promise me that we won’t leave until it’s finished.”
He really doesn’t want to do it, he wants to get straight back to packing, but he also can’t disappoint his girl.
“I promise, baby.”
–-
“That’s not what this is,” Joel reassures her. He points over to the corner where their half-empty packs are, their stuff still strewn about the room. “Look, nothing packed. I just have a surprise for you is all.”
The wariness leaves Ellie’s face, replaced with expectation and even maybe a hint of excitement. Joel’s never quite understood the expression a sight for sore eyes until now, seeing her light up in a way she hasn’t done in some time.
He lets her maneuver herself out of the bed and into the wheelchair, knows how important these little moments of self-sufficiency are for her when she’s been so reliant on others lately. When she’s comfortable, Joel covers her legs with a blanket and then tucks his pistol in the waistband of his pants.
The hospital is quiet around them as Joel pushes her carefully down the hall towards a spot he’d found a few weeks back. He never left Ellie alone for very long if he could help it, inherently mistrustful of the Fireflies, but she did need to bathe occasionally and neither of them wanted him to be the one helping her with that. She had been in good hands with Sami and Nicole, the only two nurses he found remotely trustworthy, and Joel had taken the opportunity to poke around a bit.
He had promised Ellie they wouldn’t leave before a cure was made, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have an escape plan in case things went wrong.
He had a plan now, and he also had found the perfect storm-watching spot for Ellie, a kind of outdoor patio near what he assumed had been a cafeteria. It was concrete, still sturdy, and wide enough that they could sit against the windows without getting wet unless it was really windy. There was even a bench, somehow still in one piece if a little rusty at the bottom of the legs. The view probably used to be more buildings, but those had crumbled or been claimed by fungus in the last two decades, so now it was trees and - on the clearest, sunniest days - mountains.
Ellie’s eyes widen as he wheels her out onto it, and she looks up at him inquisitively.
"Just wait,” Joel whispers, gesturing ahead of them.
Her head turns back just in time to catch the next flash of lightning in the distance, closer than the last, and the subsequent rumble of thunder.
Ellie leans forward, tension already bleeding from her shoulders, and it loosens something in Joel’s chest. He hasn't been able to do more than hold her hands when she gets poked with needles, hold her hair back when they say she has to eat meat for her iron levels and then it comes back up. He can't control the weather either, so he can't make thunderstorms happen more frequently for her. But he can do his damnedest to make sure she doesn't miss them when they do.
A few minutes pass in silence, both of them watching and Joel absently running a hand over Ellie’s shoulders –
(He can feel her collarbones entirely too easily, and it makes him want to throw something.)
– and then there’s another clap of thunder, closer to them, and the rain starts to come down. A couple droplets hit him in the face with the wind rolling through as well, but Joel doesn’t even care because Ellie is smiling and she is giggling.
It’s a sound that has been sorely absent since the giraffes.
Joel readjusts her wheelchair so it’s parked next to the bench. A quick check for anything that might put him at risk of tetanus and then he drops onto the bench, content to sit and watch with her.
Ellie, though, apparently doesn’t like the separation afforded by the arms of the wheelchair and the bench, and she stands on unsteady legs with a gesture for him to scoot over. Smiling, Joel obliges and lets Ellie situate herself around him how she wants, legs draped over his thighs and head pressed to his shoulder.
She had become a little clingier after Colorado, especially at night when she would wake from nightmares and scoot over next to him until she could wrap her arms around his torso. It varied during the day though - sometimes she was close enough to him, hand wrapped around his shirt or wrist, that she stepped on his feet when walking. Other times she was an arm’s length or more away. Joel always let her set the boundaries, let her be the one to decide how close she wanted him.
That had changed after their arrival here, when they’d been ambushed and Ellie yanked away from him. When they had tried to separate them, had sedated Ellie with the intent of getting Joel out of the hospital before she woke up.
Three Fireflies had died and one lost the use of his right arm before Marlene took him to her. Since then he’d never been more than a few feet from her if he could help it - bathroom and bathing times aside - and he reached for her just as often as she reached for him. Ellie had never really known gentle touches, Joel had realized some months back, and now that they were in a place where she welcomed - demanded, even - them from him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her no. Wasn’t going to deprive either of them of a little softness after everything they'd been through.
Tommy had used to tease him about something from a book he read once, something about love languages. It was meant for romantic partners, but Tommy had always said that Joel showed any affection - romantic, platonic, parental - through touch. Holding his mom’s waist, an arm around Tommy’s shoulders, fingers tangled with Sarah’s.
He kind of liked knowing that it still seemed to be true after twenty years.
“Do you remember there was that storm in Kansas?” Joel asks, and Ellie looks up at him before the lightning draws her attention again. “And I had thought maybe it scared you?”
“Yeah.” Ellie leans her head back on his shoulder, still watching the rain.
“These storms…” Joel clears his throat, his arm tightening around Ellie briefly. “They used to scare the shit out of Sarah. If there was thunder and lightning I could guaran-damn-tee I’d find her hiding in the closet or coming to wake me up.”
Ellie is quiet for a moment, one of her hands reaching forward to squeeze his. “Was she afraid of other stuff? Besides storms, I mean.” She finally asks, her voice quiet like she thinks he might spook at the question.
Joel waits for a particularly long rumble of thunder to trail off before he answers. “Spiders. Clowns. Didn’t really like scary movies that much. But storms were probably the worst for her, and I never did figure out why.”
They both watch the lightning fork across the sky, sharp white and near blinding against the darkness of the clouds.
Ellie looks back up at him when it’s gone. “I like that,” she says softly, “that storms were what she was most afraid of. Means she didn’t have anything worse out there to worry about. I’m glad she got to live in a world like that with you.”
Her words crack Joel's chest open, split right down the middle. He can't even begin to think of a response, doesn’t know how to address the sentiment of it, the kindness of Ellie in offering it. He would never stop wishing that Sarah was here with him, even if it meant she had to suffer through this awful world. She had only gotten a small sample of its horrors the night of the Outbreak, watching him kill their neighbor with a wrench to the head. Other than that, the worst thing she'd ever had to be afraid of was...thunderstorms.
A gust of wind blows some raindrops on them and Joel’s grateful for it, thinking maybe it’ll help mask some of the tears now rolling down his cheeks.
Judging by the way Ellie shrinks a little, thinking she’s upset him, it’s not working.
“I like that too,” Joel chokes out when he can find his breath and Ellie relaxes against him again. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, fucking overwhelmed with gratitude for this kid.
“Do you…” Ellie stops, picking at her nails a little until Joel covers her hands with one of his own. “Would Sarah have liked me, do you think?” Her voice quiets at the end, like she’s not sure if she should be asking it.
“Oh,” Joel lets out a small chuckle, “she would’ve loved you. Even though she would have been a bit older than you, y’all would’ve gotten on like a house on fire.”
Ellie frowns, a wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound like a good thing, why would you want your house on fire?”
“It’s just a saying,” Joel waves her words away. “Point is, she would have adored you. Especially since you’re constantly giving me shit. She would have encouraged you, given you pointers on the best way to make my hair even more gray.”
“Awesome.” Ellie sounds delighted by the prospect, leaning against him again with her eyes on the storm again. There’s more thunder, another gust of wind that blows rain into their faces, and Ellie giggles at it, wiping her cheeks.
His girls could not be more opposite, Joel thinks fondly, watching the way the lightning illuminates the smile on Ellie’s face. Butterflies and dinosaurs. Purple and anything but that. Hiding in a closet and sitting in the middle of the storm.
They had things in common too, of course, the main thing being that both were sassy as all get out, though Ellie’s brand of sass tended to include a lot more swearing. Hell, if Sarah had said even a fraction of what regularly came out of Ellie’s mouth, Joel would have been threatening to wash hers with soap.
“I used to do this when I was with FEDRA,” Ellie says suddenly, her smile dropping a bit. “Watch storms from my room. You couldn’t see them very well from where we were, but there were some good ones occasionally.”
Buried under a lot of other wishes and what ifs –
I wish Sarah was still here. What if she hadn’t hurt her ankle and had been able to run?
I wish I hadn’t gotten fucking stabbed. What if I could’ve convinced Ellie to go back to Jackson when the Fireflies weren’t in Boulder?
– was one that he would never give voice to because it was as pointless as all the others.
What if I’d found Ellie in Boston years ago, never let her fall into FEDRA’s hands?
It aches something fierce, knowing she’d been within twenty miles of him for fourteen years and that if they’d just been brought together sooner he could have spared her a shit ton of hardship and abuse.
Todo sucede por una razón, his mother used to say, and he clung to that when those thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone.
“So they’ve never scared you?” Joel asks finally, when he realizes he’s been silent too long.
A clap of thunder rumbles through them as Ellie shakes her head. “No, something about them has always seemed soothing. Probably helped…” her voice goes soft again and she fully turns away from the rain for the first time, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. Her next words are muffled against his shirt, and Joel has to turn his head to try to pick them out with his good ear.
“Probably helped that I watched them with Riley.”
Joel’s hand comes up to cup the back of her neck gently. “Who’s Riley?”
“Riley was the only friend I ever had.” Ellie pulls her face away from his shirt a bit, turning so her cheek is pressed there instead. He doesn't say anything about the damp spot she left behind. “We shared a room, she looked out for me. She was –” Ellie’s chest heaves with something she’s trying to contain, her breaths loud and uneven, and Joel realizes with alarm that she’s on the verge of a panic attack. She’s had them before, more times than he would like to acknowledge, but never so suddenly, and now he thinks bringing her out here for this storm might not have been his best idea.
“Breathe, baby,” he says gently. He uncurls one of her hands from where it’s clenched in his shirt, pressing it against his ribs so she can feel his own inhales and exhales. “You’re alright, Ellie. Take a breath for me, in and out. Good, just like that. Another one.”
Ellie gulps in another breath, her hand digging into his ribs, face turned back out to the thunderstorm. Rain blows onto them and she shivers.
“Let’s go inside,” Joel says immediately, moving to stand with her in his arms, but Ellie just shakes her head rapidly.
“Storm’s not over.” Her voice is uneven but her words are firm, and reluctantly Joel settles against the bench.
“Riley was there when I got bit.”
Joel flinches, just a little, at the mention of it, and Ellie’s hand presses into his ribs again. Soothing herself or calming him, he's not quite sure.
“She got bit too. We were supposed to turn together, supposed to lose our minds together. Riley said it would be all romantic and poetic, so we sat in that mall and waited.”
Joel has a sinking feeling he knows exactly how this all ends, but he stays silent, rubbing a hand up and down her spine.
(He can feel the ridges of her vertebra through his flannel and it drags to the surface all his urges to kill the Fireflies and leave with Ellie whether she likes it or not.)
“Riley started to turn, but I didn’t. And then she wasn’t Riley anymore, and she attacked me. I had to – I shot her. I didn’t mean to, I just –”
“You were protecting yourself, baby girl,” Joel says soothingly, hoping he can keep her panic attack at bay. It's still sitting in her chest, he can tell by the way her breathing remains uneven and her shoulders have gone rigid. The hand pressed to his ribs is trembling, and he take another deep breath, as much for her as for him.
“I know,” Ellie replies, tears dripping down the edges of her face and onto their joined hands. “I know that. And I know she would have wanted me to do it so she didn’t hurt anyone else. It was awful, but the waiting afterwards was the worst part. I just kept thinking, any second now. Any minute it’s gonna happen to me too. I thought about –” Ellie stops abruptly, biting down hard on her lip.
It’s on the tip of his tongue to prompt her to continue, or to tell her she doesn’t have to keep talking. He’s not sure which would have come out first, honestly.
Because Ellie lifts her head and one of her hands comes up to touch, featherlight, against the scar on the side of his head.
It burns, where her hand is, and acid pools in his gut at what she’s implying.
“I was too afraid,” she says finally, and drops her hand.
Now Joel feels like he might be the one on the verge of a panic attack, now that he has this all-too-clear image of Ellie in his head. Small, shaking, terrified.
Pistol pressed to the side of her head.
Selfishly, Joel wishes she’d never told him any of this. He doesn’t want this image of her in his head, this mirror of the action he tried to take as well.
He turns his face away, pressing his cheek to the crown of her head so she can’t look at him. He's not gonna make this about him when she so clearly needs to work through this.
“So I just kept waiting,” Ellie says, her words muffled under a drawn out roll of thunder. “Three days and then the Fireflies came to the mall and found me.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, baby girl,” Joel replies when he can find his voice again. “I’m so sorry.”
He pulls back a little, presses a kiss to her temple and wraps his arms more tightly around her when she leans into him.
“Riley was my favorite person. This was one of our favorite things to do together.” Ellie’s gaze is out on the rain but her eyes are a little glazed over like she’s looking somewhere else. “Now when I watch them I like to pretend it’s something she’s doing for me, like she’s trying to talk to me through the storms.”
Joel’s not really sure if he should ask this, if he should continue a conversation that’s already sent her into one panic attack, but he feels like it’s helping her a little. It has to be, right?
“What do you think she’s trying to say?”
A pause, two deep breaths.
“I think,” Ellie replies slowly, “that she would be trying to tell me it’s okay I made it and she didn’t. That she’s glad I’m still alive so I can help make the cure. That she misses me too.”
There’s a vise around his ribs, slowly squeezing some of the air out.
It’s a little too similar to his own thoughts whenever he saw a butterfly flitting around. Telling himself it was Sarah saying hello, checking in on him. Telling him to keep going.
“I bet that’s exactly what she’s saying.”
–-
It takes three months - three long, excruciating months where Joel has to watch Ellie push herself and all but waste away in the name of the cure - before it’s done. Three months of holding her through panic attacks, talking her through MRIs and spinal taps. Three months of holding his breath every time they put some different medicine in her IV line. They're never quite upfront with him on how old the meds are, what the possible side effects are, and he always feels like he can't properly inhale until it's been hours without a reaction, especially after the one that had closed her throat up.
In the end they had a vaccine, derived from her stem cells, and after one final bone marrow extraction Ellie was able to come off all the dietary restrictions and medications.
She was, as she said in her finest imitation of Joel’s accent, absolutely hankerin’ for some pie.
He was pretty damn sure that once they got back to Jackson he was going to raid the mess hall for any and every type of pie they had so that Ellie could have her choice of them, eat them to her heart’s content, even if it meant holding her hair back over a toilet again.
It was another week before she could walk on her own, two more weeks before Joel got his dose of the vaccine and negotiated with Marlene for enough doses to take back to Jackson to get a start on vaccinating the people there.
(If the negotiations happened with his pistol in his hand and frequent reminders that this vaccine was the product of his child and her willingness to be medically tortured, then that was between the two of them.)
Then, they’re free to leave. Given a car and supplies and everything, and Joel doesn’t trust it. It’s too easy, after everything they’ve been through, too neat and simple. There’s a trick somewhere, a catch, there has to be.
He takes them on a meandering route back up, partly because so many roads are still clogged with cars and impassable, and partly to give him time to figure out if they’re being tailed. It should just take them little more than half a day to get back, but Joel drags it out for three days, just in case. He wouldn’t put it past the Fireflies to follow him, to be trying to find where he’s taking all these doses so they can find some more converts for their “cause”.
If they’re following him, they’re doing a damn good job because Joel sees no indication of it at any point.
(“You’re being paranoid as fuck, man,” Ellie tells him on more than one occasion.)
They’re stopped about six miles from Jackson by a patrol group, and they have to wait while someone goes to get Tommy or Maria to verify their identities. Joel refuses to make Ellie walk that far when she still tires so easily, so there’s another round of discussion about whether or not they can bring the car or if someone will give up their horse.
It comes to an abrupt end when Tommy comes galloping up to the group, barely pulling his horse to a halt before dismounting and tossing his reins to the nearest patrolman. His hug is just as forceful as it had been when they’d seen each other last winter.
“Was honestly starting to give up on y’all,” he murmurs too quietly for anyone but Joel to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ glad to see the both of you,” he says at a normal volume, aiming the words at Ellie where she leans against the car, partially tucked behind Joel. She doesn't react other than to press herself closer to his back.
If Tommy notices her reticence, he doesn’t mention it, doesn’t try to pull her in for a hug or anything. Instead, he claps Joel on the shoulder again and turns back to the rest of the group to discuss their next steps.
Joel doesn’t really listen to what they’re saying, too busy monitoring Ellie and getting an exasperated stare in response, but then Tommy’s voice gets elevated in that way it does when he’s aggravated, and Joel hears “– my brother and my niece –”
Ellie hears it too, if the way she stiffens is any indicator. She glances at him and then away quickly, pretending to be very interested in the trees around them. After a minute, she looks hesitantly back at him.
Joel just smiles reassuringly at her. He’s not sure why Tommy said it - if he actually sees Ellie that way, or if it’s just simpler to tell the others that - but he likes to hear it.
Ellie’s his kid, plain and simple.
–-
Maria’s not quite as happy to see him as Tommy was. Her greeting to him is just this side of cool, though the smile she aims at Ellie is more genuine.
Ellie stares back at her with barely masked hostility and tucks herself closer to Joel.
It’s awkward, the four of them together, but Maria leaves it to Tommy to show them back to their house and the air lightens considerably once she's departed.
“She really doesn’t like me, does she?” Joel asks Tommy as they make their way onto the porch.
“She really doesn’t.” The answer comes from Ellie, and she stomps inside ahead of them, heading up the stairs.
The brothers look at each other for a moment, and Joel sighs. “I guess I’ll work on her, and you can work on Maria.”
Tommy chuckles. “Well if Ellie’s near as stubborn as Maria, then we’re probably both fucked.”
“Probably,” Joel agrees. “Let me get Ellie situated, and then I’m gonna come over if that’s alright. Got some shit to discuss with you and Maria.”
Tommy claps him on the shoulder and then heads back to his house next door, leaving Joel to trudge upstairs on his own. He drops his pack and the container of vaccines on his bed and then walks across the hall.
Ellie’s sitting on the window seat, diary in hand, and Joel is struck with an awful sense of deja vu. The way she looks up at him when he walks in tells him she is too, and the air thickens for a moment.
You are not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain't your dad.
"Feels weird to be back here," Joel tries, and immediately knows it was the wrong thing to say when Ellie's hands tighten on the diary. "I'm sure it'll feel like home in no time though, we just gotta find some things to make it our own, you know?" Ellie still doesn't respond, her gaze uncertain. “You doin’ alright, baby girl?” Joel asks softly, and her shoulders visibly drop from where they had been hunched.
“Yeah, just…” she waves the diary a little bit, attempting a smile. “Wanted to see who she ended up going to prom with.”
Joel makes a humming sound and steps into the room, sitting down on her bed, elbows braced on his knees. “I gotta go next door and talk to Maria and Tommy about the vaccine stuff. Do you wanna come with me or stay here?”
It’s small, but he sees Ellie flinch, and when she answers her voice is quiet. “I’ll stay.”
“Okay.” He rubs his hands on his thighs, waits a second to see if she says anything else. When she stays silent, gaze moving back to the diary gripped in a white-knuckled hand, Joel stands and walks over to her. “I’m gonna go do that really quick, and I’ll be back soon. Then we can see about some pie –” Ellie smiles a little at that “– and start settlin’ in.”
“Sounds good.”
Joel drops a kiss to the top of her head before he goes, lingering for a second. “Be back soon,” he repeats, a reassurance for the both of them.
“Okeydokey.”
–-
He probably should have knocked.
“– with someone else.”
“Maria,” Tommy is saying firmly as Joel walks into the kitchen. “That’s not gonna happen.”
Joel’s got a sinking feeling of what it is they’re arguing about, but he opts to pretend he heard nothing of it for now. No point in starting trouble where he might not need to.
Carefully, he sets the case with the vaccines on the table. “Sorry for lettin’ myself in. Got something to go over with y’all real quick though.”
“Where’s Ellie?” Maria’s voice is sharp, all pretenses of friendliness from earlier gone. Tommy heaves a frustrated sigh, hands resting on his hips.
“She opted to stay at the house for now. She’s tired, needs some rest.”
Maria’s eyes narrow. “I’ll come by later to check on her.”
That’s gonna go over real well with Ellie, Joel thinks, his grip tightening on the case. “Suit yourself. I have something I need to tell y’all.”
He’s operating off the assumption that Tommy had filled Maria in on Ellie’s immunity at some point, but the way Maria’s eyes go wide as Joel starts recounting their time in Salt Lake City would seem to indicate otherwise. He glosses over the worst of it, the sheer number of tests Ellie went through, the time she nearly suffocated when her throat closed due to an allergic reaction.
All the times he desperately wished she would give up so he could bring her home.
“There’s several files in here,” Joel taps the top of the case, “with all of the doctor’s notes about dosages, efficacy for different age groups, allergens, a bunch of other stuff." He pauses, taking a second to make eye contact first with Tommy, then Maria. This part is the most important, to him anyways. "Ellie’s name isn’t mentioned anywhere in here, and we want to keep it that way.”
“She should get credit for this,” Tommy interjects, staring at the case with a hint of awe on his face.
“She doesn’t want it,” Joel replies with a shake of his head. “And it’s safer this way too. People find out she’s immune, that they can get a cure from her, suddenly FEDRA and who knows who else are trying to get their hands on her to make their own. Or they're trying to eliminate her so a cure can't be made. No, Ellie’s name stays out of it.”
Maria and Tommy share a look before their attention returns to him.
“I’m leavin’ the logistics of a cover story up to y’all. There’s also details in the folder about a meeting point for more doses. I didn’t give them any information about Jackson,” Joel continues when he sees Maria’s eyes widen. “The meeting point is a bit south in order to keep them from coming this way. Y'all can set a new one in the future if you like.”
Maria’s thank you comes through clenched teeth.
“I’m gonna head back to Ellie. I promised her her weight in pie, so I really hope y’all have some at the mess hall.”
Tommy cracks a smile but Maria’s face remains impassive as she looks out the window towards the house next door. Joel's house - he just has to get used to thinking of it that way. “I think right now we've got two or three different pie flavors there. Why don’t you two head to the hall, get food and Ellie’s pie, and I’ll head next door to see how she’s settling in?”
There’s no time for Joel to protest before Maria’s out the door and heading across the yard, and Tommy looks at him warily.
“Ellie’s not gonna want to see her,” Joel says, moving to follow. “And I don’t want her upset.”
“Okay,” Tommy steps in front of Joel, blocking his path to the door. “But you charging over there after her and probably getting into an argument with Maria is only gonna make it worse. Maybe give them a chance to work this out themselves?”
He doesn’t like it - nor does he think it's gonna work - but he lets himself be herded to the dining hall. Tactfully, Tommy doesn't say anything about the repeated glances Joel sends over his shoulder until the blue house is out of sight.
“Think it’s supposed to rain,” Tommy says conversationally, hands in his pockets and face turned to the sky as they walk. “The barometer in our kitchen was dropping a lot earlier.” At Joel’s look, Tommy smiles a little sheepishly. “Ain’t got weather stations anymore you know? Got a lady here who used to be a science teacher Before, she made some barometers for some of us awhile back. Pretty accurate too, most of the time.”
“Maybe I’ll see about gettin’ one for Ellie,” Joel says, more to himself than Tommy. “She loves rainstorms. Thunderstorms especially.”
There’s a hesitation to Tommy’s next words, like he’s testing them out, trying to gauge Joel’s reaction. “Not like Sarah.”
“Not at all like Sarah,” Joel agrees easily. He turns his own face up to the sky, looking for clouds, and so misses the way Tommy’s shoulders loosen and he smiles.
It’s not busy at the dining hall, since, as Tommy informs him, dinner doesn’t usually start for another hour. But he drops a quick word to one of the women working, and she’s more than happy to put together a couple of plates for them.
“No meat, please,” Joel says, almost as an afterthought. Tommy shoots him a curious glance, and he just shrugs. “Ellie’s not big on it at the moment.” Nobody needs to know anything beyond that unless she chooses to share it herself.
It takes about ten minutes, the plates being filled and wrapped - with an extra one for the pie - and then they’re heading back up the street.
“Wanna tell me why your kid doesn’t like my wife?” Tommy asks, and his casual acknowledgment of Ellie as such draws a smile from Joel.
“Don’t know for sure, but I’d guess it’s because your wife doesn’t like me.” They go up the steps, Tommy stepping ahead to use his free hand to open the door. “And Ellie’s as loyal as they come.”
Tommy’s response is cut off as they step into the living room and catch the end of a loud, angry “– you can get fucked” coming from the kitchen.
“Ellie?” Joel strides forward, all but tossing the covered plates in his hands onto the counter.
Maria and Ellie are standing across from each other, Ellie with her arms crossed and Maria with her hands clasped in front of her belly. Ellie’s face is red, her eyes shiny in a way that tells Joel she’s on the verge of tears despite her best efforts, and he’s across the kitchen in a second, reaching out towards her.
She knocks his hands away and steps back, leaving him stunned.
“Did you fucking know about this? Is that why you went with Tommy, so you could plan how to get rid of me again?” Ellie sounds angrier than he’s ever heard her but she doesn't look angry, she just looks…Joel can’t think of another word for it but wounded, like Joel’s gone and betrayed her somehow.
And he has no idea what happened while he was gone.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He turns to look at Maria. “What the hell is she talking about?”
Maria looks back at him calmly, though he can see the steel in her eyes. “I was simply discussing alternate living arrangements for Ellie with her.”
“Alternate –?”
Jesus fuckin’ Christ.
Joel’s gaze moves over to Tommy, and he looks…guilty.
“Did you know about this?”
Tommy sighs. “Maria had mentioned it to me earlier.”
“Out.” Joel says immediately, his voice dark. “Both of you, get the fuck out of my house right now.”
“Joel –”
“Get out.” He wouldn’t lay a hand on Maria, but he’s not above physically removing Tommy from the house, and based on the way his brother shifts backwards, he knows it.
Tommy presses a hand to Maria’s back, guiding her out of the house. He turns to look back at Joel again, opens his mouth to say something, but Joel just shakes his head, his glare murderous. He needs them out, now, before he says something he regrets and ruins his relationship with Tommy for good.
Joel hears the front door click shut and turns back to face Ellie. She’s staring up at him uncertainly, her arms crossed.
“Ellie,” Joel says pleadingly, taking a step towards her. She doesn’t immediately step backwards, and he takes that as a promising sign.
“Did you know?” Ellie asks again, her voice quieter.
“No, baby, I didn’t.” Joel takes another step closer, reaching a hand out carefully like he’s approaching a wounded animal. Tentatively, Ellie takes it and Joel squeezes reassuringly.
“I don’t want to live somewhere else.” Her eyes are beseeching, and Joel takes another step forward, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close. “Do you want me to?”
“Absolutely not,” Joel replies firmly, kissing the top of her head. “You’re staying here with me if that’s what you want.”
“It is.” Her words are muffled against his chest, and he squeezes her briefly.
“Alright, it’s settled then. Now,” Joel loosens his grip on her, waits till she’s looking up at him and he brushes a few stray hairs back from her forehead, “I believe you kept pesterin’ me something awful about pie?” He tilts his head over to where the plates sit and then can’t help but laugh at the speed with which Ellie abandons him to tear the coverings off. She looks two seconds away from shoveling pie into her mouth with her hands when Joel clears his throat.
"Grab those and come with me," he says as he roots around in the drawers till he finds some silverware, and then he gestures with his head for Ellie to follow him. She rolls her eyes but hands him one plate and carries the other two. He holds the door open for her as they step out onto the covered back porch, mentally crossing his fingers that Tommy was right about the incoming rain.
There’s no house behind them and their yard is fenced in, so they have a moderately unobstructed view of the strip of trees that run between the yard and the field behind. If he turns his head to the right, Joel can see Tommy and Maria’s back porch, a bit of their yard, and the window into their kitchen. The light is on and he can see movement inside, but he turns his back and surveys their seating options.
The bench facing out into the yard had been his first idea, but a closer look at it reveals some wood rot in the middle that he’s not willing to chance.
“Alright, looks like our options are against the wall over here,” Joel gestures with his elbow, “or on the steps.” The top step is covered by the porch overhang, but they would still likely get wet. Ellie wouldn't mind it, but Joel knows it's gonna take some time for him to shake the instincts and habits they'd developed on the road. Dryness was paramount. “Or we can drag out two of the dining chairs.”
“Nah, this is good,” Ellie leans against the wall and slides down until her legs are straight out in front of her. “Kinda like when we were on the road, you know?”
Gingerly - and with less grace - Joel lowers himself to the ground next to her, back against the wall. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
They dig in in silence for a few minutes, Ellie devouring the cornbread and beans on her plate and leaving the carrots untouched until Joel nudges her and points at them with his own fork. An eye roll, but she eats them, sticking her tongue out to show him the half-chewed food.
“Raised by goddamn wolves,” Joel mutters playfully, lifting his plate out of the way when Ellie swipes at his cornbread. It earns him another see-food display. “Keep that shit up and I won’t share the pie.”
Immediately her mouth closes and she chews diligently.
–-
They’ve finished the food and the pie, listened to the sounds of people walking up and down the street behind them as they head to dinner themselves, before it finally starts to rain. Just a few light sprinkles at first, and then a more steady pour.
Almost immediately, Joel feels Ellie relax next to him. She slumps sideways the slightest bit, and Joel smiles.
“This is why you wanted to eat outside?” she asks, head resting against his shoulder. “You knew it was gonna rain?”
“Had my suspicions,” Joel confirms, conveniently leaving out that Tommy was the source of them. “Thought you might enjoy it, after the day we’ve had.”
Ellie’s silent for long enough, her breathing deep and even, that Joel thinks she’s dozed off against him until she says quietly, “You swear you didn’t know what Maria was talking about, me living somewhere else?”
“I swear,” Joel replies gently, resting his cheek on top of her head. “I didn’t know, and if she had mentioned it to me ahead of time I would also have told her she could get fucked.”
Ellie laughs a little, the sound blending with the raindrops on the porch roof. “She can totally get fucked.” She turns her head and rests her chin on his bicep so she’s looking up at him. “What if they still try to do it, though? Make me live somewhere else with other people?”
Joel doesn’t know if they can, doesn’t know how much power Maria can exert for something like that, or how Jackson handles kids who don’t live with a relative. So he doesn’t really know how to answer. “What would you want to do?” he asks instead, trying to buy himself some time.
He expects her answer to be something like tell them to go fuck themselves with a cactus or I’d just run away from wherever they put me, but instead Ellie says, “I’d want to leave” with an immediacy that tells him that she’s been considering this since Maria brought it up.
“Leave Jackson? Even though it’s safer here than anywhere else we could probably find?”
“Yes,” Ellie says firmly.
Joel shifts a little, nudging her pointy chin off his bicep and wrapping his arm around her shoulders so she’s tucked against his side. “Alright then, I guess that’s our plan.” It's an easy call for him to make.
“Wait really?” Ellie pulls back just a little, staring at him wide-eyed.
Joel reaches up to rub the back of his neck with his other hand, thinking. “I mean, I’d rather not take you out on the road again if I could help it, especially after everything you just went through. But yeah, we could go to the coast, or maybe to Texas. Or we could just go all the way back across the country to Bill’s compound.”
“But what about Tommy?”
Joel looks down at her with a frown. “Tommy’ll be fine. He’s got a wife –” and he thinks it’s very big of him that he doesn’t acknowledge the derisive noise Ellie makes “– and a baby on the way. He’s safe here, he can take care of himself.”
Ellie stares at him, hard, for a long moment, and then she relaxes against him again and turns her gaze back out to the rain. He’s not quite sure what that was about, but he figures that if Ellie’s letting it go it must not matter too terribly bad. Lord knows the kid is stubborn enough, a dog with a bone, when she wants to harangue him about something.
“I liked that farmhouse in Kansas,” Ellie says, so quietly he almost misses it over the sound of the rain even though she's on his left. “You remember which one I’m talking about?”
He does, vividly. Remembers the fear at waking up to no Ellie, remembers them sitting together on the porch a lot like they were now, watching the thunderstorm.
Remembers how it was one of the first times he’d really, intentionally, cracked his chest open a little to allow Ellie inside. She'd pried it the rest of the way on her own pretty rapidly after that.
“Yeah, I remember it.” He rubs a hand up and down her arm, pictures it again in his mind. “Was pretty sturdy, far enough from the road. So that’s where we’ll go.”
It probably would need some fixing up in some spots, reinforcement around it for safety, but it wasn't impossible.
“You’d really just leave Jackson and Tommy like that? Because of me?” Ellie asks, and Joel can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t believe him or she’s worried he’ll have changed his mind in the last ten minutes.
“I would,” Joel says firmly. “I’ll follow you anywhere you go, remember?”
Ellie clears her throat, her next words coming out wobbly. “Yeah, I remember.”
–-
The rain has lessened to a drizzle, clouds clearing and the moon inching its way up into the sky, by the time Joel realizes Ellie has fallen asleep next to him.
“Hey,” he says gently, nudging her just a little. “Wake up baby girl, let’s get you up to bed.”
Ellie’s extremely articulate response is “Mmph” with her face pressed to his shoulder, and he chuckles.
“C’mon.” Joel shifts so he can stand, his lower back stiff from hours of sitting on a wood surface. He’d pick Ellie up and carry her up to bed if not for the fact that doing so would probably put him out of commission for a few days. Plus she still needs to change and brush her teeth.
Joel spares a second to marvel at the simplicity - the normalcy - of getting to chastise his teenager about cavities, and then he’s grabbing her hands and tugging her upwards.
She’s more asleep than not as he nudges her upstairs and into the bathroom, stumbling into walls and half-heartedly brushing her teeth with a sealed toothbrush he found under the sink. He nudges her into her room to change before going into his own room to do the same. He’s not really tired, not planning on going to bed yet, but he thinks he might see what’s on the bookshelf downstairs to occupy himself with for a bit longer. The urge to stay up and keep watch is gonna take awhile to undo, he can tell already.
Ellie shuffles into his room as Joel’s spitting out his toothpaste and he glances over his shoulder to see her toss her pillow onto his bed and then flop facedown on top of it.
“What are you doin’ there, miss ma’am?” Joel calls playfully, washing his hands and toweling them dry.
“Going to sleep,” Ellie mutters, wiggling a bit to get under the covers and smushing her face into her pillow. Joel leans against the door frame and watches with a smile as she flails a little, reaching over to grab his pillow and then pulling it against her chest like a stuffed animal. “My room is too far.”
Joel rubs his hand over his chin, warmth uncurling in his chest at her words. He and Ellie hadn’t slept more than a few feet apart for somewhere around a year now, other than that first night in Jackson. The little superstitious voice in his head tells him that them sleeping separated by walls and doors is a one-way ticket to disaster, and he can't quite bat it away.
It’s also nice to know he’s not the only one who doesn’t know how to function alone anymore. They’ll have to work on it somewhere down the line, Joel knows, but he thinks they’re allowed a bit of an adjustment period.
“I’m gonna go downstairs for a second,” Joel says quietly, turning on the lamp and flicking off the overhead light. “Find a book or something and then I’ll be back up here with you.”
“Mmkay.”
He’s almost out the door when he hears a soft “Hey, Joel?” behind him.
“Yeah, baby?”
He turns back around and finds Ellie on her side, still holding his pillow to her chest, one eye cracked open.
“You’re my favorite person,” she says sleepily, offering him a soft smile.
Ever since he met her (and especially since he started to let himself know her), Joel has felt little pieces of himself from Before slotting back into place, pushed there by a pun or Ellie’s laugh or the weight of her asleep against his side. He won't ever be Joel from Before again fully, he knows that, but it's nice to know it's not as out of reach as it used to seem.
It feels like there’s an audible click accompanying this Before piece as he walks back over to the bed and sits down on it. His hand reaches out to cup her cheek gently and her own smaller one comes up to hold his wrist.
“You’re mine too, baby girl.”
–-
There’s a quiet knock at the door right as Joel is pulling an old copy of The Da Vinci Code from the shelf and blowing the dust off the top of it. Not really his preferred nighttime reading, but better than nothing and likely to put him to sleep.
Tommy’s standing on the porch, which doesn’t surprise Joel in the slightest. He doesn’t invite him in, opting instead to step out onto the porch in his bare feet and close the front door behind him. It's not cold out but cool enough that Joel can fake a shiver and go back inside once he's heard whatever it is his brother has to say.
Tommy appears to take the slight for what it is, and he steps to the edge of the porch. “How’s Ellie?”
“Asleep,” Joel replies shortly. “So if you’ve come to rehome her you’ll have to wait till the morning.”
Tommy sighs. “Joel –”
“Don’t do that.” Joel points at him. “Don’t fucking Joel me after your wife came in here and scared the shit out of my kid, makin’ her think I was trying to get rid of her again. Fuck, do you even know what that did to her?”
Tommy’s face softens, his gaze drifting to the front door. “That wasn’t Maria’s intention.”
“Her intentions don’t really mean shit to me,” Joel retorts. “All Ellie knows is that once again, I went off with you and she was left with Maria. Once again, there’s talk of her bein’ forced to go with someone who isn’t me. The last time that happened, we had a fuckin’ fight and I...I said some pretty awful shit to her.” He’s working himself up a bit now but unable to stop the words from pouring out. “It took me awhile to rebuild her trust and then Maria just comes in here and nearly obliterates it again. And you just stood there and let it happen, let her come over here and say that shit to Ellie. How can you call her your niece like you did earlier, and then just stand to the side like that?”
“Joel.” Tommy holds both of his hands up, his face apologetic. “I didn’t know Maria was gonna bring it up to Ellie, I promise you. When she suggested it to me I told her it wasn’t gonna happen, that neither of you would be willing to be separated. She’s just trying to think about what’s best for Ellie.”
“That’s not for her to decide,” Joel shoots back. “That’s for Ellie to decide. For me to decide. Not Maria.” Aggravated, he runs a hand through his hair. “We’re not stayin’ here, not if this is what it’s gonna be like, her breathin’ down our necks all the time lookin’ for reasons to take Ellie away.”
Tommy looks at him, astonished. “You’d just pick Ellie up and leave, make her go back out on the road where you don’t have enough food, where y’all have to contend with clickers and hunters and shit? That’s so goddamn selfish of you, Joel.”
Joel just crosses his arms, leaning against the railing. “It was her idea. I don’t like it any better than you do, but it was Ellie that said she would rather leave than be separated. I just happen to agree.”
"Jesus Christ.” Tommy scrubs his hands over his face, and Joel sighs.
“Look, I’m not tryin’ to put you in the middle of this, I know it's not an easy spot to be in,” he says heavily. “But Ellie’s what’s most important to me, her wants and needs, her happiness and safety. I want us to stay in Jackson with y’all, but I also don’t want her on guard all the time thinking she’s about to be forced into another home. She’s dealin’ with enough as it is.”
Tommy mimics his pose against the railing. “Yeah, you wanna fill me in on any of that?”
“Nope,” Joel drawls. “That’s for Ellie to share if she ever wants to. Just know that it was a real rough few months for us after we left here initially.”
“You alright?” Tommy asks pointedly.
“Yeah I’m good now, now that we’re out of that hospital and Ellie’s back here where it’s safe.” Joel shrugs. “I mean really, once the stab wound and the infection healed up I was more or less okay.”
Tommy lurches forward, arms dropping to his sides. “Wait, what the fuck?”
Joel scratches at his chin. “Don’t worry I’m just kiddin’.” Tommy relaxes and Joel can’t help but grin, fully aware he's being a dick by yanking Tommy around like this. “I mean, getting stabbed hurt and the infection was a bitch –”
“Joel.”
Joel tugs the hem of his shirt up just a bit so Tommy can see the edge of the scar, white and uneven on his stomach, dropping it when his brother goes pale. “That happened about a week or so after we first left, and then it was all downhill from there really. Spent a few days out of it because of infection and Ellie had to stitch me up and take care of me.”
“How –” but Joel just shakes his head, already knowing where the next question will lead.
“I know it’s fucked up of me to drop that on you and then not say more, but the rest of it is up to her to tell if she ever wants to.” Joel sighs. “Speakin’ of, I should get back up there. She’s asleep but she might not stay that way.” He straightens, looking Tommy over again. “We don’t want to leave. I want you to know that.”
Is it guilting his brother a little bit? Sure, and Joel doesn’t exactly feel great about it. But if it gets Tommy to work on Maria leaving him and Ellie in peace, he’ll do it. For all he said he didn’t want to put his brother in the middle, he’s not above nudging him a bit if it means he gets to keep Ellie where she's safest. He'd like for her to get to a be a kid for probably the first time in her life.
Joel turns and steps to the front door, reaching for the handle when Tommy calls from behind him.
“Think I can get a little forgiveness from her if I give y’all our barometer? So she knows when a rainstorm is coming?”
Joel turns back to look at him, taking in Tommy’s hopeful face. “Maybe. She’d probably like it, but I also can’t promise she wouldn’t break it just to spite you.”
“Well if you have any tips, feel free to send them my way.” Tommy tucks his hands into his pockets, walking down the porch steps. “I’ve missed being an uncle, so it’d be nice if my niece didn’t hate me.”
Tommy's easy use of the title does away with a little of the anger still simmering in Joel's gut, and he throws him a bone. “If you’ve got any books on space, she’d like those. Joke books too, especially puns. Anything with dinosaurs.”
They share a smile for a moment before Tommy nods and walks across the lawn, back over to his own house where Joel can see the kitchen light is still on.
Ellie’s still asleep when Joel collects his book and heads upstairs, even though he no longer feels like reading himself to sleep. He has to gently wrestle his pillow from her, but once it’s behind him she just scoots a little bit until she can get an arm across his stomach, nose burrowing into his ribs.
Gently, Joel runs a hand over the top of her hair, relishing the way she leans into it even in her sleep.
They’d come a ridiculously long way since that first time in Jackson, Joel thinks as he reaches over to turn off the lamp, arm settling over Ellie’s shoulders. From a shouting match and slammed doors, to an inability to sleep more than a few feet apart.
You’re my favorite person, Ellie had said earlier, and just thinking of it again had his throat tightening against the threat of tears. He hadn’t been anyone’s favorite person in a long time.
And there was no one’s he’d rather be now than hers.