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Ellie knows she should tell someone. That’s what you’re supposed to do.
She also knows there’s no way she can say anything.
They’ve been in Jackson for about six months now. Ellie liked school when they got here and she first started it. It wasn’t anything like her boarding schools. Joel said it used to be an elementary school, and then explained what that meant, that it was a school just for little kids. She can see it, in the faded but still colourful paint and just how fucking small so many things are. The classes she’s in have bigger desks, but there are other rooms with really small ones, and the bathrooms are hilariously tiny.
The school is nice. It’s clear the people who got it set up really cared, and tried to make it as nice as possible. And all the adults in Jackson seem to try to help out. When he goes on supply runs, Joel will bring back chalk, paper, art stuff, and then send it to school with her so he doesn’t have to actually talk to anyone. Tommy and Maria both look for books even though they have much better things to do when they’re out of town. And they’re not the only ones - anyone who goes out looks for stuff like that for the town and especially the school.
There’s a guy in town, Dusty, who mainly works with the cows, but is real good with machines, and he says he thinks he’ll eventually be able to get a computer working for them. She believes him, too. Joel surprised her by having him fix up an old PlayStation for her for Christmas.
It was the first time she ever celebrated Christmas.
So she liked school. At first.
But lately she’s been finding reasons not to go. It isn’t like the military school where if you don’t show up, you’re fucked. Sometimes she can’t stand the idea of going and she just decides to go fix something with Joel instead and he doesn’t even care. But she knows it makes him feel better if she’s in school, makes him worry less, and God, all he does is worry about her. It’s only three days a week, so she tries.
Or she was trying. She’s finding it harder to try lately.
And she can’t let Joel figure it out, so she’s spending a lot of time… hiding, honestly. Hiding in old storerooms that no one uses anymore, in the space under the stage in the gym, in any little nook in the school she can find. She stops going to school at all sometimes, slipping off to spend a cold morning in the storage shed that hold old furniture next to the orchard or an afternoon in an empty house.
She risks the school library a couple times. She gets desperately bored and she doesn’t do very well being bored and alone with her thoughts anymore.
And it’s always empty… until it isn’t.
“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” a voice asks and Ellie almost jumps out of her skin.
Ellie scrambles to her feet. “Uh. No, I’m supposed to be here. I, um. I have a research project.”
Even she can hear how bad her lie sounds. Ugh, she’s usually better at lying than this.
The owner of the voice, a girl around Ellie’s age, quirks an eyebrow. “I’d believe you more if you sounded like you believed yourself.” She waves a hand. “Relax, I’m not going to rat you out.”
Ellie sighs, leans against the wall. “Thanks. You’re uh. Hazel, right?”
She’s seen the girl around town, but she’s older enough not to be in any of Ellie’s classes and they hang out with different people. There aren’t that many kids in Jackson, but there’s enough people overall that Ellie feels like she’s still learning names.
“Got it in one,” she says. “And you’re Ellie.”
She doesn’t say it as a question, and Ellie knows it isn’t one. Jackson is small and loves gossip. Everyone knows Joel is Tommy’s brother, and they know about Ellie. Or, they know what Joel says is okay to tell, obviously.
She plays a little game in her head sometimes, a mental list of all the ways people try to explain her and Joel. Mostly people assume he’s her father, which… but sometimes there are other things. Step-father comes up once or twice, which Joel had to explain the concept of. Uncle a few times.
Once at a party with some of the other kids where they got tispy off pilfered alcohol, one of the boys who’d drank way too much had stared at her for way too long. She’d been about to ask what his problem was when he’d blurted out, “Did Joel just fucking kidnap you? Are you okay?”
Now that was funny.
“Why aren’t you in class?” Hazel asks.
She’s cute, Ellie realizes now that she’s calmed down. Curly red hair pulled up into a messy bun, little tendrils of it escaping to coil around her face. And the freckles – so many freckles, especially on her nose and sprinkled across her cheeks.
There’s a softness to her eyes that Ellie doesn’t see very often, and she likes it.
Ellie shrugs. “No reason.”
“C’mon,” Hazel says, and steps closer. “You can tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Ellie lies, a little better this time. “I just didn’t feel like going to math.”
“You rebel,” Hazel says, but then she frowns like she’s thinking. “Wait, you have math in the afternoon? So you have…”
There’s only a handful of teachers, four including the one who watches the littlest kids. Ellie has two, total. It isn’t hard to figure out.
Hazel looks over her shoulder, then steps closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Don’t let him catch you skipping. He gives after school detentions.”
Ellie goes cold. “Oh.”
“I’ll knock on the door if the coast is clear when I leave.”
She’s almost out the door when Ellie blurts, “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Hazel pauses. “Tell what?”
She’s careful after that.
But not careful enough.
The school isn’t very big compared to her old boarding school, but it’s big enough that she doesn’t usually see the little kids. They’re all on one side of the school, and her classes are on the other side. So when she tries to slip away before math class and almost literally runs over a crying little girl, it’s weird.
She crouches down in front of the kid. “Hey, kiddo. You lost?”
The kid nods. “I had to go to the bathroom and Miss Beth said I could go on my own.”
“Ahh.” Ellie glances down the hall. “When you came out, did you go this way—” She points at the kid’s left hand. “Or this way?”
“This way.” She holds out her left hand.
“Well, that explains it,” Ellie says lightly, smiling at the kid. She’s so small. Ellie barely even remembers being that little. “Just a little mix up. Joel says I could get lost in a cardboard box. Want me to walk you back?”
The kid nods. She stands up and slips her little hand into Ellie’s. Ellie ignores how sticky it is. At least it’s not blood. “Is that your daddy?” the kid asks as they walk down the hall.
“Joel is who takes care of me,” Ellie says simply. The girl nods, satisfied. She might be young, and she might be growing up in Jackson, but the world is still what it is. Even here, parents aren’t a given. Little kids are easier to explain it to, honestly. All they want to know is who looks after you.
And that is how she gets caught.
She drops the kid off at her own class, seeing the immediate relief on the teacher’s face. Ellie gets it – the poor woman’s got six or seven other little kids to look after. Sending one to the bathroom alone shouldn’t be a big deal. But it must be scary as fuck to do it.
And then she turns around and basically walks into her homeroom teacher. Who, of fucking course, insists on walking her back to her math class.
She tries to slip in unnoticed, but it’s hard to do when there’s only a handful of kids in the class.
“Glad you could join us, Miss Williams,” Anderson says.
A couple of the others giggle, but nervously.
She ignores them all, taking her textbook and notebook out.
When they start silent work, Anderson gets up and walks around, under the premise of checking their work.
Ellie tenses a second before a hand lands on her back. Forgets how to breathe.
“Detention after school,” he says quietly.
Fuck.
* * *
Ellie’s late and Joel’s trying not to worry. He’s sure she’s fine. Probably just hanging out with one of her friends. He doesn’t make her come right home after school or anything. Just usually she stops in before going anywhere else, to drop her school stuff off and grab a snack.
It’s fine, though.
It’s fine.
He’d been trying to read, half-thinking he might ask Ellie if she wanted to go for a walk in the woods when she got home. She hasn’t been out of Jackson in a while, and there’s still a few hours of light left. He can’t focus now, though, so he decides to fold the load of laundry that’s been sitting in the dryer for a couple days now. It’s supposed to be one of Ellie’s chores, but she’s always “forgetting”.
He’s just set the basket on the couch when someone knocks on the front door.
It makes him frown. Ellie wouldn’t knock, and Joel knows how Tommy knocks, when he bothers. This is different. Smaller. Timid.
He opens the door to a teenaged girl, and not the one who lives with him.
“Can I help you?” he asks, a little gruffer than he means it to be.
“Uh. Hi.” The girl shuffles awkwardly on the porch, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Um. I go to school with Ellie?”
She says it like a question.
“Right.” Joel makes himself relax, at least physically, so the poor kid stops looking like she’s about to bolt right off the porch. He leans against the doorframe and tries to casually cross his arms over his chest. “Well, she ain’t home yet, I’m afraid.”
“I know,” the girl says. “She – she got detention.”
“I didn’t know you kids still did that,” Joel remarks mildly.
“Most of the teachers don’t.” The girl fidgets. She won’t meet his eyes. “Ellie – Ellie didn’t want me to tell anyone, so don’t tell her I came here, okay? But you should go get her.”
Joel straightens slowly. He doesn’t like what her words, her tone, make him think. “Why?”
“You should just go get her.” For the first time, the girl looks at him. “Now.”
He goes. He grabs his gun and his coat and he goes. He’ll always go.
The school doors are locked from the inside at all times just in case – there are so many just in case things, even here – but one of the perks of being the guy who fixes half the things that break in Jackson is that Joel has a key to most any building that still locks. He lets himself in.
He heads over to where Ellie’s classes are. Her main class is dark and empty, but there’s a light coming from a room a couple doors down. Joel heads down there, pausing to look through the window in the door. He’s pretty sure he’s going to have the habit of scoping out a room before entering till the day he dies.
He sees Ellie right away. She’s leaning against the teacher’s desk, arms crossed over her chest.
She doesn’t look right.
The teacher, a younger man, says something to Ellie.
And then he puts his hand on her thigh, and starts to slide it up.
Joel doesn’t remember kicking the door open. He hears the bang, but he’s too busy crossing the room in a few quick strides, barely sparing a glance at Ellie as she scrambles away, so he can grab the man by the back of his neck and slam his face into the desk.
Before he has a chance to respond, Joel yanks him out of the chair and throws him up against the blackboard, a blade against his throat a second later.
That’s when he realizes Ellie is yelling his name.
“Joel! Joel, don’t!”
He hesitates only because of her voice. Looks at her just for a second.
“Please,” she says, and her voice shakes. “Please don’t kill him.”
Something is wrong. Or, rather, a lot of things are wrong here, but something is wrong with her, and it’s not the kind of wrong more bloodshed will solve.
He turns back, presses the blade a little harder so it leaves a mark. “You don’t ever touch my kid again.”
He doesn’t add an “or else”. He doesn’t need to. He’s pretty sure the knife and the broken nose are enough of an “or else”.
He drops the man and he collapses to the floor, groaning. And bleeding. Lots of bleeding.
“Let's go,” Joel says to Ellie and waits for her to leave the room first. She keeps glancing back like she thinks he’s going to go back and beat on the man some more. Which… he can’t say every bone in his body doesn’t want to do just that, but something badly isn’t right with her and she is his priority.
He lets her get outside before he stops her.
“Ellie, what the hell was that?” he asks, trying as hard as he can not to sound like he’s yelling at her. He’s not mad at her, but she’ll feel it like he is.
She shakes her head. “Can we go home?”
“I’d like it if you talked to me, kiddo.” He crosses his arms over his chest, then uncrosses them immediately. “Why didn’t you tell me somethin’ was goin’ on?”
She shrugs, fiddling with her fingers.
“Ellie…”
“I don’t want them to take you away,” she blurts, then looks shocked at herself. She’s pale, except for two high spots of colour on her cheeks.
Joel doesn’t use endearments for Ellie overly often. He finds them on his tongue a lot, a “sweetheart” here, a “honey” there, that he bites back because she’s not used to it, not at all. Tommy’s looser with them, the easy way he was with Sarah, and Joel isn’t even sure he notices. It took a while for Ellie to get used to it, made her nervous until she learned to trust him.
They slip out of Joel when he’s dead tired, when he’s drinking, when Ellie’s hurt. Especially when she’s hurting.
So he can’t help saying, “Oh, baby girl, what are you talkin’ about?”
"Jackson is different,” she says tightly, pulling at her fingers so hard he half-worries she’ll dislocate them. “You can’t just murder my math teacher because he touched my back a little too long. I know they don’t, like, execute people here like in Boston but they would make you leave and what if they won’t let me go with you? What then, Joel?”
“Okay, okay, c’mere.” He pulls her in and she goes easy, forehead dropping against his collarbone. She’s shaking like a leaf. “First of all, I’m pretty sure I get at least one get out of murder free card.”
She breathes a half-laugh that’s a little wet, and then she’s crying softly into his shirt.
Joel cups his hand over the back of her head and strokes her hair gently. “Shh, now, you get that thought right out of your head. I’m never leavin’ you, I promise.”
It’s hard for her to believe it, he knows. She’s lost so many people. Even he tried to leave her, once, and she’s forgiven him for that, but it left its mark all the same. She’s so scared of being alone.
She exhales shakily. “We stick together.”
“Yeah, we do.” He pulls away far enough to hold her face in his hands, and wipes her cheek off with his thumb. “Look at me a minute. Don’t you ever be afraid to tell me somethin’, you hear? I’ll always believe you. And I'll always keep you safe."
“You broke the fucking door,” she says.
“Yeah, I’ll fix it.” He settles his arm around her shoulders and she tucks herself in against his side as they start to walk. “Ellie, I gotta tell Maria about this.”
She goes stiff. “Oh.”
“I don’t gotta tell her it was you,” he says. “But she has to know.”
Dealing with this kind of thing is part of her job. His job is to protect Ellie. He would prefer to do that by beating that creep to a pulp, but she apparently doesn’t want that, so he’s holding back. But beyond that, Ellie ain’t the only kid in that school. Maria needs to know.
“Alright,” she says quietly. “Then I’m coming too.”
* * *
Ellie wishes she wasn’t nervous. Worse, she’s embarrassed and that’s so stupid. She knows, intellectually, that it wasn’t her fault. David wasn’t her fault. Joel has told her that, mostly when she’s wakes up the middle of the night and she isn’t able to stop crying before he hears her. So Anderson isn’t her fault.
But an ugly little voice in her head keeps saying she should have been more careful, smarter, better. Once, okay, once is bad luck. But twice? What does twice say about her? Is there just something wrong with her that people like that can see?
“What do you want me to say?” Joel asks, and he’s being so soft with her.
It hurts at the same time as it makes her feel safe.
“I don’t know yet,” she admits.
She’s confused.
Joel called her “baby girl” again. He does that, sometimes, mostly when she’s hurt or sick. When she needs comforting. It took her a while to really notice, since it usually only happened when she was kind of distracted, and longer to realize what it meant.
A while ago, she’d found a small picture frame cleaning out an old storage shed for Tommy, glass miraculously unbroken, and gave it to Joel. It was just the right size for the picture of his daughter. She’d left it on his nightstand, knowing it’d be easier for him that way. But she’d seen it there after that, and sometimes when he doesn’t realize she can hear him, she overhears him saying, “Hey, baby girl,” to it.
So she knows that’s what he used to call Sarah.
She’s even more confused about the fact that Joel called her his kid. He’s never done that and she thought…
But he was there. He’s always there when she needs him, as grumpy and broken and imperfect as he is, even after everything he’s done, everything they’ve had to work through, he is always there when she needs him.
She watches him as he asks a couple people until someone knows where Maria is. People like him in Jackson, mostly. Some of them are afraid of him, ones who have heard rumours of their time travelling across the country, but most people like him. He was so awkward when he was being friendly at first – she found it kind of hilarious. But it’s like he remembered, a bit, someone he used to be. She likes the Joel that plays guitar and fixes things and gets flustered when women flirt with him even though that’s kind of gross. She likes that he can be softer here.
He has blood on his hands, just a little, and he shoves them in his jacket pockets so no one sees. His shirt has some, too, she thinks, but it’s dark plaid and doesn’t show. He’s carrying at least two guns and a few blades, including the knife she gave him for Christmas because, really, the shivs are fucking stupid. He knew, somehow, that she was in trouble and he came with weapons, and he called her his kid.
Was he thinking about Sarah? Was it automatic, an old reflex?
It didn’t feel like that.
Her head is just… doing a lot right now.
Maria’s in the town office, which is a small, square building made of just a couple rooms. Her office is at the back and no one else is there, thankfully.
Joel knocks, waits for her to call them in.
Maria looks up as they walk in, smiling. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to see you two today. What can I do for you?”
“Ellie, go on and sit down,” Joel says, closing the door.
Her knees are shaking, so she does. For a moment, it looks like he’s just going to stay there by the door, and she kind of hates that. She doesn’t want to do this alone. She’s immensely grateful when he comes over and sits in the chair next to hers.
He puts a hand on her shoulder, warm and comforting, and she leans into the touch. She knows he’d tell Maria if she wanted him to, knows he would keep her name out of it if she wanted. And somehow that makes it… not okay, exactly, but easier.
So she takes a deep breath and tells Maria everything. Stares at her hands the whole time, because she can’t make herself look at either of them, but she tells everything. The way Anderson touches her during class, how he leans too close, making her stay after class and the things he said. More slips out, even, like the fact that she thought she was just paranoid at first. Joel goes stiff, knowing what she means immediately.
He was a math teacher, too.
She's shaking when she finishes and wrung out.
“Thank you for telling me that, Ellie,” Maria says. “Thank you for being so brave.”
She doesn’t feel brave, but she nods.
Maria opens the drawer of her desk and takes something out, then slams it. “Could you two excuse me for ten minutes?”
Huh?
Ellie looks up and sees Maria checking the safety on a rather large gun. She looks at Joel. “Joel?!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says, squeezing her shoulder as he stands up, not so subtly moving between Maria and the door. “Ellie would prefer for this to be handled… uh, non-violently. If possible.”
Maria scoffs. “He put his hands on my niece, so I’d prefer his head be separated from his body.”
Niece?
Joel sighs. “I know. But she don’t want that.” He winces a little. “Please don’t make this a thing.”
Ellie has heard Joel says Maria scares him, and she’s pretty sure he’s telling the truth. She can see why in the moment it takes Maria to consider it. Maria’s taller than Ellie, but Joel’s still got a solid six inches and at least fifty pounds on her. He’s also, you know, Joel. But for a moment, Ellie sees her consider the fight.
Finally, though, she nods and sits back down. She doesn’t, Ellie notices, put the gun away.
Maria sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay. If that’s what you want, Ellie.”
“It is,” she says and her voice is small but steady.
“Do you want me to tell Tommy?” Maria asks. “I need to tell him – and others – that someone came forward, but I won’t tell anyone it was you if you don’t want me to.”
Ellie exhales. “You can tell Tommy. Maybe – maybe not other people.”
“That’s fine,” Joel says. He’s still standing between Maria and the door, arms crossed over his chest. He looks worried – more worried than usual. “You get to decide that. No one else.”
“You do,” Maria says. “So what’s going to happen is I’m going to tell my people, we’ll find him, and then he’ll be asked to leave town. Are you okay with that?”
She nods. “You should, uh, probably try the clinic first.”
Maria glances at Joel, who shrugs.
“Slipped,” Joel says flatly. “Shame about his face.”
“Uh.” Ellie rubs the back of her neck. “Yeah, that, but also I kinda broke his finger.”
Neither of them expected that.
She smiles at the surprised look on Joel’s face.
He recovers first. “Damn right you did.”
* * *
It’s almost dark by the time they get home, and Ellie’s exhausted. She has that pinched look around her eyes, the one that worries him, that reminds him of almost losing her. He makes a quick dinner that she barely eats, and then he’s too worried to send her to bed even though she probably needs it. It’s early, anyways.
She asks to watch a movie and he agrees without hesitation. She picks something they’ve both seen too many times, and twenty minutes later she falls asleep on his shoulder. He knows he should get her up and make her go to bed properly. But she’s safe here, and resting, and he’d like to keep her close a little longer.
Just a little longer, he thinks, and closes his eyes.
He wakes up when Ellie elbows him in the ribs sitting up. It’s light and he realizes belatedly it’s morning.
“Sorry,” Ellie yawns, stretching. “I’m gonna go shower.”
“Mm,” he replies. Neither of them are exactly morning people. He wonders exactly at what point she ended up curled up against his chest, can still feel the slight weight of her – and the patch of drool soaked into the front of his shirt.
At least she slept, he thinks. And no nightmares.
No nightmares is worth a lot.
Jackson has a canteen that does community meals. It’s not mandatory or anything, but it’s easier for a lot of people to drop in for a meal than to cook something at home. Joel grabs lunch there a lot when Ellie’s at school and he’s working. It’s the closest thing to a restaurant he’s been to in decades.
He absolutely does not feel like cooking this morning, and Ellie doesn’t have school so he suggests they get breakfast there. Ellie can… well, she can make food edible enough to keep herself alive. She can hunt and butcher meat and generally it’s fine when she cooks. But he has also never once seen her make toast without burning it. So she agrees easily.
She looks better today. Like a weight is off her shoulders.
How could he have not noticed how off she was? He’d noticed she was quiet, but it was winter and he’d thought… he should have noticed. He should have asked.
The cold morning air wakes her up a little, and by the time they get to the canteen, she’s talking his ear off. Asking questions he’s struggling to answer because the cold has not woken him up. God, he misses coffee. It’s nice though, spending time with her. Always is, even when she’s purposely trying to annoy him.
She eats, too, enough that she goes back for seconds.
When a plate shatters, he expects to hear Ellie cursing before going for a broom to clean it up. It wouldn’t be the first time. When that doesn’t follow, he looks up and his spine goes cold.
Anderson has Ellie by the arm.
Joel is on his feet and moving towards her before he can think.
As he reaches her, Ellie jerks away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“You little—“
Joel puts him on the ground before he finishes that sentence, planting his foot on the man’s chest and pointing a gun in his face.
“Pretty sure I told you not to touch my kid again,” he drawls and takes the safety off.
“Joel,” Ellie says behind him. “Don’t.”
Goddammit.
He holds a hand out towards her, gesturing for her to wait. He shifts his foot until it’s over the other man’s collarbone and presses down. “She’s saved your life twice now. My opinion? It ain’t worth it.”
He’s tempted to break the bone, but it’d probably upset Ellie, so he refrains.
“There won’t be a third time,” he says, pressing harder. “Understood?”
He gets a groan and takes it as an affirmation, then steps back.
“Let’s go,” he says to Ellie, and starts to walk away.
She stops him with a small hand on his arm. “Just give me a minute.”
Anderson is on his hands and knees when Ellie makes her way back to him. Joel looks at him, for real, for the first time. He’s got a cut across his nose, two black eyes, and a splint on his finger.
Ellie is small, bird boned, but it’s snowy and she’s wearing the boots he got her. So when she steps on Anderson’s hand, the one with the splint, and grinds down, it’s enough to make Anderson shout.
She takes a step back and crouches down so they’re almost eye-level. “Pay attention now,” she says and Joel hears himself in her words.
Ellie is just a kid, and she’s had to do things no kid should have to do, and if you don’t know that, it’s easy to underestimate her. Most people in Jackson don’t know that, because she doesn’t want them to. She wants to be just a kid, like all the other kids.
Ellie is always armed. Ellie sleeps with a knife under her pillow and a gun under her mattress.
Ellie has killed more people than anyone in this room besides Joel himself.
“I’ve dealt with a lot worse than you,” she says, her voice low. “And if I put you down right here, I’d never fucking think about you again.”
She has her knife in her hand and Joel can see Anderson’s eyes tracking it.
“This is a gift,” Ellie says, and Joel hears Marlene in her words. “I want you to know I’m showing you mercy. I want you to think about that every day you’re out there. Every time you even think about putting your hands on someone, I want you to think that you’re only alive because I’m a fucking lot more merciful than you.”
She stands, and Anderson’s not fast enough to pull his hand away before she steps on it again. “Think about that every time your goddamn hand hurts.”
This time, Joel hears the sick crunch of bones breaking.
Anderson’s still groaning in pain when Ellie walks over to Joel. She doesn’t look back.
“Okay, we can leave now,” she says, like he didn’t just watch her torture a man.
He probably shouldn’t be proud. He is anyways. Surprised and a little guilty, but proud.
He goes because he’ll always go where she needs him to go. He waits until they’re outside, a bit down the sidewalk, before really looking at her. Her eyes are bright, and her cheeks are red, but she doesn’t look as upset as the day before.
“You okay?” he asks cautiously.
“Uh huh,” she says. “I think so. I just – I felt really guilty that he might hurt someone else because I asked to let him live.”
“That ain’t on you, Ellie.”
She shoves her hands into her pockets, but not before he sees they’re shaking. The adrenaline’s wearing off. “Yeah. I know.”
He has to know. “Why’d you stop me this time?”
The way Anderson grabbed her, no one would have blinked an eye at him protecting her. Besides, even in Jackson, there are things that are unacceptable. Joel and Maria may not see eye to eye all the time, but he trusts her to deal with this. He trusts her, too, to keep Ellie from knowing what really happens. He doesn't want to lie to her about it, so he won't ask.
But he needs to know what's going on in her head. If she's still scared of him leaving her.
She shrugs.
He waits.
“It feels wrong to decide someone should die,” she says eventually. “Like – like in advance, you know? I don’t want people to die for revenge for me.”
He nods.
Then, abruptly, she stops him, turns to face him. “But I get why you wanted to.”
“I don’t want revenge,” he corrects gently, and he’s mostly telling the truth. Part of him absolutely still wants to walk back into the canteen and beat Anderson into hamburger. “I want you safe. Keepin’ you safe is my job, kiddo.”
And even though he calls her that all the time, kiddo triggers something in his memory, and he realizes what he said to Anderson. What he called her.
He doesn’t have the words for this. He’s never been good with them, and twenty years of closing himself off didn’t help. He tries to say what he can’t in actions, in making a home for her and letting her bring him back from the dead, but he’s never sure it’s enough, that she understands what she means to him.
It’s just – she’s his in every way that matters. And he thinks everyone but her knows it.
She looks at him, searching his face, and she must see something there that reassures her, because she nods.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s go home.”