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Ellie is eyeing Joel’s cheesy potatoes over breakfast. She’s calculating the best vector of attack, while Joel casts an amused eye over her efforts. He turns his plate around so her target is further out of reach.
“Eat a vegetable, brat,” he says, gesturing at the carrots he’d snuck onto her plate in line.
“Potatoes are vegetables,” Ellie insists. She’s not actually sure if they are, but they definitely aren’t fruit, so maybe?
“No, they’re starch,” Joel corrects. But he doesn’t seem entirely certain either.
“Starchy vegetables,” Ellie pushes the point. Joel seems hesitant enough that she can steamroll him, facts be damned.
“Alright, then eat somethin’ gr—” Joel stops himself and Ellie grins like a Cheshire cat at his predicament.
Eating vegetables has become A Thing since they returned to Jackson for good. On the road, they ate whatever they found. Joel sort of tried to get her to eat balanced meals, but they didn’t have much to balance. Joel had pushed most of the canned vegetables on her, insisting she needed nutrients. Between canned spinach and canned nothing, canned spinach was a win. Now that there are options, Ellie doesn’t see why she should have to choose shit she doesn’t like.
“Nothing green on my plate,” she says triumphantly. “Guess I ate it all. Hand over the goods.”
“Eat the fucking carrots, gremlin,” Joel says affectionately. “Then you get the goods.”
“You’re holding them hostage?” Ellie looks affronted.
“They’re my potatoes,” Joel points out. “You’re the one attemptin’ kidnapping.”
Ellie considers eating a bite of carrots to distract him and then going for the potatoes. He reads her thoughts and inches his plate further out of reach.
Then fucking Tommy comes to join them.
Tommy always eats with them—surely he must have made some friends in Jackson (other than his super fucking busy and pregnant wife)? Everyone is always greeting him or waving from across the canteen. Can’t he sit with them?
Joel gives his brother an easy grin. Spending time with Tommy makes Joel happy, which causes a sharp pain in Ellie’s gut. Joel and Tommy have decades of inside jokes and shared history that she can’t ever be part of.
Family is Joel’s driving force: You keep goin’ for family. Joel crossed the country for Tommy, only bringing Ellie along as an afterthought. Ellie hopes she’s not quite cargo anymore, but she doesn’t like it when the difference is laid out so starkly in front of Joel: the brother he practically raised and the feral raccoon that imprinted on him against his will. His family versus his… something?
Ellie’s pretty sure if push comes to shove, Joel would choose Tommy. In the absence of family, she was close enough. But a side-by-side comparison of her and the prodigal brother isn’t doing her any favors. She needs to find a way to get Tommy out of the way without losing Joel, and it’s proving difficult.
Tommy takes a plate of steaming cheesy potatoes off his tray and puts them in the center of the table, in front of Ellie.
She knows this game: he’s trying to look good in front of Joel, to show that he’s willing to share and Ellie is the problem. Or worse—it’s payment upfront for an undisclosed favor later. She hasn’t fallen for that bullshit since she was seven.
“Got some extra potatoes for the table,” Tommy says cheerfully, winking at Ellie.
Before she can decide on the most hurtful way to reject his offering without offending Joel, Joel nudges the plate away from Ellie.
“Vegetables first,” Joel says.
Oh, game on. Ellie doesn’t want Tommy’s bribe-tatoes, but she can never resist needling Joel.
“That was for your potatoes,” Ellie says. “These are table potatoes.”
Joel glares at Tommy. “Just you wait until Maria has the baby,” Joel says, gesticulating at Tommy with his fork. “I’m going to pump that kid so full of sugar they never sleep.”
“I’ll watch my back in about a year,” Tommy says unconcerned, sliding the potatoes back to Ellie.
Fuck it, she wants the cheesy potatoes more than she wants to brush off Tommy. Ellie pulls them closer and digs in. Joel gives a disapproving grunt but doesn’t stop her.
“What do we say, Elles?” Joel asks. Ellie sends a grunt in Tommy’s general direction.
“Hey, Joel,” Ellie says with her mouth full. “Do you like seafood?”
“No,” Joel says immediately. “Don’t you da– ”
Ellie opens her mouth wide, revealing half-masticated cheesy potatoes. “See? Food!”
Tommy laughs and Joel glares at him again.
“Don’t encourage her,” he says.
“It’s a good joke, Joel,” Tommy says with a grin. “You should appreciate Ellie’s puns more.”
“Yeah!” Ellie agrees, before realizing she’s agreeing with Tommy. She glares at him to counteract the accidental overture.
Ellie spots Jesse and Dina across the hall and grabs the plate of cheesy potatoes.
“You can finish my carrots since you like them so much,” Ellie says, taking her prize to sit with her friends.
✧┈┈┈┈┈✧
“Your kid hates me,” Tommy says once Ellie is settled with her friends.
“She doesn’t hate you,” Joel says automatically, even though Ellie does seem to hate Tommy.
Ellie had avoided everyone when they first came to Jackson, and Joel hoped she’d warm up to Tommy the more she came out of her shell. But while the kids and select others worked their way past her defenses, she maintained an impenetrable anti-Tommy bastion.
Joel’s been pretending not to notice the one-way war Ellie’s waging against Tommy. Joel badly wants Ellie to have another trusted adult in her corner. He trusts Tommy with Ellie. But he needs Ellie to trust Tommy.
Growing up in a military orphanage made Ellie extremely attuned to what the adults around her want. Joel reckons she could probably read the room to avoid getting hit before she could talk. Now that she can hit back, she’s more selective in which expectations she tries to meet.
Ellie always tries to meet his expectations, even when he doesn’t realize he’s signaling them. She doesn't understand yet that it’s his job to make sure she’s happy and taken care of.
If Joel lets Ellie see how much he wants her to like Tommy, she might get it in her head that it’s something she has to do for him. He wants it to be genuine, so he can’t force it.
“I can’t even bribe her right,” Tommy sighs.
“Yeah, thanks for that,” Joel says. “I was this close to getting her to eat the fucking carrots.”
“The carrots were overcooked,” Tommy says dismissively. “The girl needs meat on her bones.”
“The girl needs fucking nutrients,” Joel says. “Hey, are potatoes a vegetable?”
“Mama always said they’re a starch,” Tommy responds.
“That’s what I thought,” Joel grunts. He’d have to check, though. Ellie doesn’t usually accept “someone told me” as gospel truth and he has a feeling he hasn’t heard the last of this argument.
“What about non-food bribery?” Tommy asks. “What’re those comics she likes?
“Savage Starlight,” Joel says. “But you don’t have to bribe her. It takes her some time to warm up to people.”
Raucous laughter from Ellie’s table somewhat undermines Joel’s point. He smiles softly at Ellie, happy to see her enjoying herself with other kids.
“You know she told me I was the first adult who ever apologized to her?” Joel says, not taking his eyes off Ellie. “For fourteen years, every fucking adult in her life treated her like – ” Joel cuts himself off, clenching and unclenching his fist.
“She has good reason not to trust adults,” Joel continues. “Just keep showing her you’re trustworthy. She’ll come around.”
Ellie catches Joel smiling at her and beams back. Then Tommy gives Ellie a wave and her eyes narrow.
“Maybe keep an eye out for art supplies,” Joel suggests with a sigh. “Bribery can’t hurt.”
✧∘⢑∘∙∘✧∘⢌∘∙✧
“You’re so lucky Tommy’s your uncle,” Jesse says when Ellie takes refuge with her friends. Jesse’s two years older than Ellie and will be starting baby patrols soon. He practically hero-worships Tommy.
Ellie bristles.
“He’s not my uncle,” she says.
He kind of is, though. Joel occasionally calls his brother Uncle Tommy to Ellie, which she loathes but also secretly likes. She doesn’t want Tommy to be her anything. She wants him to knock off the nice guy act and realize there isn’t room for both of them. But if Tommy is her uncle, that means she’s Joel’s kid and she likes that a lot.
“You know what I mean,” Jesse waves off her objection.
“You take him if you want him so much,” she says dismissively.
“He’s the best patroller we have,” Jesse says, completely ignoring Ellie. “I hope I’m in his training group. He can headshot Infected half a mile out!”
“Joel says that’s bullshit,” Ellie says. Their first time in Jackson—before everything changed—Ellie asked Tommy to teach her how to use his scope; Joel had shut it down. Since they’ve been back, Joel’s suggested taking Tommy up on his offer; Ellie shut it down this time.
Jesse shrugs, unconcerned.
“I bet if you asked him, he’d take us all out,” Jesse suggests. Ellie turns to Dina.
“Am I talking out loud?” Ellie says in a stage whisper to Dina. “It feels like I am, but he doesn’t seem to be hearing…” Dina laughs and rolls her eyes.
“I think you’re the first person I’ve met who doesn’t like Tommy,” Dina says. “He’s just so… likable.”
“Suspiciously so,” Ellie says darkly. Jesse and Dina both laugh. It’s not quite at her, but it’s not really with her either. “Whatever, I’m full.”
Ellie clears her bribe-tatoes and leaves the canteen in a huff.
✧┈┈✧┈┈✧
Tommy is turning off the downstairs lights when he hears a knock on the door. It’s somehow both tentative and frantic.
He opens the door before the knocking can wake Maria and steps out onto the porch.
It’s Jesse, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“Jesse?” Tommy asks. “Everything okay?”
“It’s Ellie,” Jesse says. “You have to come.”
“What happened?” Tommy asks, heartbeat picking up.
Ellie had “snuck out” to a party with the other Jackson kids tonight. Her brand of “sneaking out” is making sure Joel knows exactly where she is but insisting he not tell the other adults.
Tommy’s surprised by how well it works. When Joel was raising him, Tommy lied through his teeth until he ended up in jail or stranded miles outside of town with no shoes or keys (one time, though you wouldn’t know it from how often Joel brings it up) and had to call Joel for rescue.
Ellie just cheerfully asks Joel if she can go to an unsupervised party or sneak outside the walls (in a Joel-approved area), and Joel lets her with a reminder to be home by curfew and bring her pack and a gun if she goes outside. It means Joel’s getting more gray hairs than Tommy thinks is healthy for a man only six years his senior, but it works.
“She just, um, drank a little too much,” Jesse says.
Tommy looks across the street, where the lights are still on downstairs. Joel always waits up for Ellie. Tommy raises an eyebrow.
“And you’re getting me instead of Joel?” Tommy asks.
Jesse shoots a terrified look across the street. Tommy can’t really blame him. The man Joel becomes when Ellie is hurt or in danger fucking scares Tommy, and Tommy doesn’t scare easily. Jesse grew up behind the walls of Jackson; Joel is probably the most terrifying thing he’s encountered.
“She asked for you,” Jesse says, avoiding eye contact.
That’s a lie if he’s ever heard one. Getting Joel is the right move: it’s what Joel would want, and probably what Ellie would prefer.
But… this might be his way in. Tommy puts on his boots and grabs his coat. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
✧┈┈✧┈┈✧
Tommy follows Jesse to one of the unused houses at the edge of town. The party had either already wound down by the time Jesse left, or everyone scattered at the prospect of Joel coming. When Tommy arrives only Ellie and Dina are there.
Ellie’s in a fucking state.
She’s sprawled out on the floor, giggling at the ceiling light. She’s trying to point out constellations to Dina, but there’s only one light to point at: “That’s the bright one! The North… Polaris… something…”
Tommy's seen Ellie try sips of Joel’s whiskey (or occasionally moonshine when that’s what they’re down to). He and Joel both get a kick out of her theatrical expressions of disgust every time. It was one of the reasons Joel was only fretting like a mother hen—as opposed to a she-bear—about Ellie going tonight even after she candidly admitted there would be drinking. (“Be a pretty shitty party if there weren’t, man.”)
But they hadn’t accounted for Jungle Juice: the desperate creation of underage drinkers everywhere. Apparently the apocalypse hadn’t changed the youthful impulse to combine every random bit of alcohol that could be found, juice, sugar, and anything else to mask the taste. (He had a negative experience with one involving Tang that he didn’t like to think about.)
Dina looks up in relief when she sees Tommy and shoots an amused look at Jesse.
“Too scared to get Joel?” she asks dryly.
“Just a well-honed survival instinct,” Jesse says.
“Hey, Ellie Bean,” Tommy says gently, crouching down next to Ellie. He’s using the same voice he uses to get their neighbor's skittish cat out of trees.
“You’re not Joel,” Ellie says, blinking her eyes into focus. She lifts her head slightly to look at him appraisingly, as though confirming. “You’re Tommy.”
The slight movement is apparently too much for her, and she lets her head drop. He’s barely able to get his hand underneath it in time to cushion her head from slamming into the floor.
“Thanks for getting me,” Tommy says to Jesse and Dina. “I’ll see her home safe.” They gratefully take their leave.
“Why’re you here?” Ellie asks blearily.
“Came to get my niece,” Tommy says affectionately. “Heard she’s in need of a place to sleep it off. I’ve been there myself.”
“I’m not, though,” Ellie says morosely.
“You don’t need a place to sleep it off?” Tommy asks, a little teasingly. “The floor here doesn’t seem all that comfortable.”
“Your niece,” Ellie says. She’s looking up again, eyes glassy. Is she tearing up or is it just because she’s staring at the light? Is she still looking for constellations?
“I’m not her, Tommy.”
The quiet certainty in Ellie’s voice breaks him. Was that why she didn’t like him? She thought he was seeing Sarah when he looked at her?
“I know exactly who you are, Ellie,” Tommy says. “Ain’t no confusion on that front. I think you might be a little confused about how many nieces are allowed. My brother's got two kids, so I got two nieces.”
Ellie flops her head to the side and looks at him with narrowed eyes. It’s not quite a glare, but it’s also not not a glare.
He holds her gaze and looks steadily back.
“I’m not giving up, Ellie,” Tommy says. “You can keep fightin’ me at every turn. You can keep putting the fucking pebbles or gravel or whatever the hell it is into my boots every day. You can keep kicking the chairs out from under me—yeah, I see the under-the-table-sweep, you didn’t invent that. I ain’t going anywhere.”
Eventually Ellie looks away and closes her eyes.
“I don’t feel good,” she whines.
“Bet not,” Tommy says. “Can I help you up?”
Ellie opens her eyes and looks at him, blinking in surprise.
“You’re not Joel,” she says. “You're Tommy.”
Great. That little speech was pretty good, too.
The mature thing to do would be to help Ellie up and carry her home without using this opportunity to interrogate her. But Tommy’s never been accused of maturity, so he lies down on the floor next to Ellie.
“Why do you dislike me so much?” he asks.
“Have you considered that you’re not that likable?” Ellie asks.
“I have, actually,” Tommy says. “Given it a lot of thought. Problem is, I’m pretty likable. Can I tell you my theory?”
“No.”
“I’m thinking maybe you’re worried I’m going to take Joel away from you,” Tommy says. “It was just the two of you for a long time and change can be hard.”
“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Ellie says with enough bite that he’s pretty sure he nailed it.
“I agree,” Tommy says. “Ain’t nothing in the world that could take Joel away from you. You’re his center of gravity, kiddo.”
“I’m not jealous of you, dumbass,” Ellie insists. “I just don’t like you.”
“Alright,” says Tommy. “Fair enough. But just for the record: it ain’t a zero sum game. When Maria has the baby, that little thing is gonna be the center of my universe. But I ain’t gonna trade in Joel. I’ll have a kid I love more than anything and a brother. Same as Joel does.”
Ellie closes her eyes and shakes her head a little. She doesn’t say anything for a long time, but a tear slips out.
“You’re family,” she whispers eventually. “Family is Joel’s center of gravity.”
“You don’t think you’re family?” Tommy asks, heart breaking a little.
“I’m cargo,” Ellie says. It’s almost a question, but not one for him. Her face is so open and vulnerable that he feels like he’s intruding on a private moment; this is a deep fear he has no right to be witnessing.
Tommy knows the words are Joel’s: it’s exactly what the brother he left in Boston would have said to a feral QZ orphan he was tasked with smuggling across the country.
But it’s not the Joel he’s seen with Ellie. You don’t make cargo eat its vegetables or wait up while cargo is at a party. You don’t get fucking parenting books from the library for cargo. You certainly don’t gun down anyone trying to hurt cargo after it’s already been dropped off.
Fucking Joel. Did none of those parenting books mention telling your kid that she’s your kid?
Actually, they may well not cover post-apocalyptic paperless adoption.
“You know, back when I was working with Joel and Tess, he didn’t rightly care much if the cargo ate its vegetables. Before, though? I swear he’d lose sleep when Sarah didn’t eat her broccoli.”
“I’m not her,” Ellie says again. He wonders if she’s saying it to him or Joel.
“I know who you are, Ellie. So does Joel.”
Ellie opens her eyes and blinks at him.
“You’re not Joel.”
✧┈┈✧┈┈✧
Tommy kicks Joel’s front door a few times by way of knocking since he can’t reach the doorknob with Ellie in his arms. Joel opens the door seconds later and pales.
“Ellie,” he exhales in alarm.
“She’s fine, big brother,” Tommy assures Joel. “Just had a bit too much to drink.”
Tommy steps inside and carries Ellie over to the couch, where he sets her down gently. Joel sits on the floor next to her, running his hands through her hair. Ellie opens her eyes and beams at him.
“Joel,” Ellie slurs his name a bit. “S’you this time. Hi.”
“Howdy, baby girl,” Joel says. “You have fun?”
Ellie nods, closing her eyes and nestling into the couch.
“Uncle Tommy brought me home,” Ellie murmurs into a throw pillow. Tommy feels an explosion of warmth in his chest. “Don’t tell Joel. I promised I’d be ’sponsible.”
Joel lays a blanket over Ellie and tucks her in.
“I won’t tell him,” Joel promises. He kisses Ellie’s forehead and turns off the lights, gesturing Tommy towards the porch.
Joel flicks on the porch light and settles on the swing. Tommy joins him.
“Thank you,” Joel says sincerely. “What happened?”
“One of the kids came to get me,” Tommy explains. “You scare ’em.” Joel grunts, a flicker of amusement and what might be pride in his eyes.
“So they got her Uncle Tommy instead,” Joel says, nudging his shoulder into Tommy’s. Tommy grins.
“Well, she was also telling you not to tell Joel something,” Tommy says, “so I’m not sure she’s entirely in her right mind.”
“Still,” Joel says.
Tommy nods in reply, “still.”
Tommy needs to bring up the cargo thing, but critiquing Joel’s parenting is like playing a game of Russian roulette with a full cylinder.
“You know, you spend an awful lot of time fretting over her for someone who’s just cargo,” Tommy says. Joel inhales sharply.
“What the fuck did you just call her?” Joel’s voice is dangerous.
“I didn’t call her anything, dumbass, you did,” Tommy says. “She told me I’m family and she’s cargo. She didn’t hear that from me.”
Joel leans forward and puts his head in his hands, sighing deeply.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Outside Kansas City. I was such a fucking asshole to her back then. I thought—I thought she knew it was different now.”
Tommy puts a bracing hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“I’m sure she knows, big brother,” Tommy says gently. “But she probably needs to hear it anyway. Just use your fucking words to tell your kid you love her.”
“I tell her I love her,” Joel says, affronted.
“Then tell her she’s your kid.”
Joel grunts and sits back, which Tommy takes as a win.
✧∘⢑∘∙∘✧∘⢌∘∙✧
Ellie wakes to a pounding headache and the smell of bacon. Her throat feels somehow both desert-dry and coated with a sour residue. She opens her eyes but immediately squeezes them shut and pulls the blanket over her head. The light burns.
Ellie groans and Joel pokes his head into the living room from the kitchen.
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Joel says. She hears footsteps and the faucet running, then feels Joel pull down the blanket and lightly stroke her face.
Ellie opens her eyes gradually. Joel is on one knee next to her holding a glass of water.
“Drink this, kiddo,” he says. “It’ll help.”
Ellie tries to pull the blanket back over her head but Joel stops her and shakes his head.
“You can go back to sleep in a bit if you still want, baby,” Joel says coaxingly. “But you need to hydrate and get some food in you. Eggs and bacon were always Tommy’s go-to hangover food. Drink this up and it’ll be ready in a tick.”
Ellie sits up just enough to hold the glass without spilling and takes a small sip as Joel returns to the kitchen. The first trickle of water sends a wave of relief through her dry and tacky throat. Ellie lets out a small noise of satisfaction and takes a large gulp. The crisp, cool water is like a soothing balm on her aching throat. She downs the glass in three large gulps.
“More,” Ellie croaks from the couch. Joel chuckles from the kitchen, and Ellie hears the light clatter of pans and plates. Joel comes back into the living room and takes the glass, giving Ellie a light kiss on the forehead.
“It’ll be on the table with your breakfast,” Joel says. “Come eat.”
Ellie groans and lies back, trying to work up the energy for the lengthy, eight-step journey to the kitchen. She quickly realizes that moving is physically impossible and resigns herself to living permanently on the couch. At least it’s comfy.
But she can hear Joel refilling her glass and the sound of running water calls to her like a siren song. Ellie clambers to her feet and wraps herself in the throw blanket before padding into the kitchen. There’s a plate piled with fried eggs, bacon, and toast at her seat, and Joel is just setting down her refilled glass.
“Eat, Elles,” Joel encourages. “You’ll feel better.”
Joel sits in front of his own, less towering, plate. Ellie shuffles over and collapses heavily in her chair.
“I wanna die,” she moans. Joel sends her an amused and slightly sympathetic look.
“Welcome to your first hangover, baby,” Joel says wryly.
Ellie picks up a piece of bacon and eyes it. Her stomach is unsettled, but she can’t quite tell if she’s nauseous or hungry. Ellie nibbles it and the greasy warmth seems to calm her stomach. She eats the rest of the bacon in two bites and starts on her eggs.
“Told ya,” Joel says a little smugly. Just for that, Ellie drains her recently refilled water and sets it expectantly in front of Joel. He raises an eyebrow but dutifully refills it.
Ellie feels better with a greasy breakfast smothering whatever’s happening in her stomach. But that just opens up the mental space for her to wonder if she’s in trouble.
Joel doesn’t seem mad. She had permission to be at the party, and she told Joel there would be drinking. She doesn’t think she promised him she wouldn’t try any. She vaguely remembers promising to be responsible. The night’s a blur, but she’s pretty sure “responsible” isn’t a good descriptor for what she got up to.
Ellie looks at her eggs intently as she asks: “Are you mad at me?”
“No, baby girl,” Joel says. Ellie rolls her eyes.
“Are you unhappy with my behavior?” she rephrases, only slightly mockingly. Joel chuckles lightly.
“Are you happy with your behavior?” Joel asks. “How much you’re hurtin’ today is the direct result of how much you knocked back last night. Your body may be mad at you, but I ain’t.”
“I said I’d be responsible, though,” Ellie mutters, still studying her plate.
“Did you mean to drink that much?” Joel asks gently. “Or did you maybe not know how strong it was?”
Ellie looks up in relief and sees Joel smiling indulgently.
“I didn’t,” Ellie says. “It tasted like fucking juice! How is that even a thing?”
“Your Uncle Tommy would be the one to ask about that. Ask him about Tang, specifically,” Joel says with a twinkle in his eyes that tells Ellie that story didn’t work out well for Tommy. “Part of being responsible is learnin’ from your shitty choices. Now you know for next time.”
“Next time?” Ellie asks a little incredulously. Letting her learn from “natural consequences” is classic Joel but he usually doesn’t let her blunder immediately back into the same situation.
“Yeah, kiddo, next time,” he says. “This ain’t going to be your last party. I’m hopin’ you make different choices next time.”
“Deal,” Ellie says mischievously. “Next time I’ll make different shitty choices.”
“That’s my girl,” Joel says with a wry smile. Joel clears the breakfast dishes and Ellie follows him to the sink with a groan; dishes are her chore. But Joel just pulls her in for a side hug.
“I got ’em today,” Joel says. “Go lie down a spell.”
Ellie leans into the hug and then takes him up on his offer, falling onto the couch in a graceless heap.
The mention of Tommy’s name wakes up a flicker of memory. She vaguely remembers seeing him at the party, but that couldn’t be right. Was he here when she got home?
“Was Tommy here last night?” Ellie asks when Joel joins her in the living room. She scoots to make room for him and he joins her on the couch.
“He brought you home,” Joel says. “Your friends went to get him. Apparently I scare ’em.”
Ellie winces. Did they have to break up the party because of her? She’s really fucking hopes not. She’s not sure the fragile strands of her newfound friendships can bear that strain.
“Ellie, honey,” Joel starts at the same time Ellie says: “I really hope it’s not weird with—”
Ellie stops when she registers his tone. It’s his Serious Voice, but he just finished telling her she’s not in trouble.
“Yeah?” Ellie asks, a little apprehensive.
“You know—you know you ain’t cargo, right?” Joel asks in a tone she can’t read.
That’s… really fucking random.
Ellie doesn’t quite recognize his expression either—it almost looks ashamed? She wishes her head wasn’t so scrambled so she could get a better read on him. This isn’t any of the Joels she knows, so she’s having trouble guessing the right answer. He seems to want a yes? She doesn’t know she ain’t cargo, but that’s hardly the point. She’ll say yes if he wants a yes.
“Um, yeah,” Ellie says. Joel’s brow furrows and he runs a thumb along her jawline.
“You ain’t cargo, Elles,” Joel says. “You haven’t been since—you’re family, baby girl. We’re family.”
Tears prickle in the back of Ellie’s eyes and she blinks them away.
Joel’s got some fucking timing. She wants to take the words and dissect them, examine each of the pieces and hug them to her chest. But her head is pounding way too hard to deal with the force of the fucking love grenade he just threw at her.
“I know,” Ellie says. (She doesn’t.) He tucks a stray hair behind her ear and gives her a sad smile.
“Alright,” Joel agrees. (But she can tell he doesn’t believe her.)
Ellie shuts her eyes and leans against Joel, nudging him with her head until he starts giving her a scalp massage.
✧∘⢑∘∙∘✧∘⢌∘∙✧
Ellie sits with her friends at breakfast the next day, and they’re mercifully not pissed that she ruined the party. Her awkward apology is immediately waved off by both Jesse and Dina.
“We’ve all been there,” Dina says.
“Besides, I hung out with Tommy,” Jesse adds. Ellie rolls her eyes at his hero worship, but then it gives her an idea.
She has a feeling that Joel’s impromptu cargo conversation was prompted by something she’d said to Tommy, but she can’t remember a fucking word of their conversation. Ellie’s been thinking of ways to interrogate Tommy about it (without Joel there, obviously) but coming up empty.
Jesse had handed her an excellent opportunity, with built-in buffers to boot.
“Hey, Tommy,” Ellie calls to Tommy as he passes them in the canteen. “Jesse here has been saying he thinks it’s a load of bullshit that you can headshot infected from half a mile out.”
“I did not!” Jesse protests immediately.
“That so?” Tommy asks Ellie with a grin.
“We’re all thinking it, man,” Ellie challenges.
“We are not! Tommy, no one said—” Jesse starts.
“I guess I better put up or shut up,” Tommy interrupts, not taking his eyes off Ellie. “Care for a demonstration?”
“Yes!” Jesse says at the same time Ellie says: “Care to watch you fuck it up, sure.”
“I happen to have the morning free. After breakfast?” Tommy suggests.
Jesse agrees immediately, of course. But Tommy makes Jesse and Dina get permission from their parents after breakfast with plans to meet at the gate in an hour. Once she’s cleared her plate, Ellie joins Joel, Tommy, and Maria.
“Tommy tell you we’re going out after breakfast?” Ellie asks, squeezing next to Joel into a space demonstrably too small for her, which magically widens as Joel shoots her a fondly exasperated look.
“He told me you and your friends were going to ask permission to go out,” Joel says with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re the one who keeps telling me I should let him show me the scope,” Ellie says with an eye roll.
“I’m probably going to say yes, then, ain’t I?” Joel says teasingly.
“Joel, may I please—pretty please—go out and watch your brother make an ass of himself?” Ellie asks angelically, fluttering her eyelashes. Joel and Maria both laugh and Tommy scowls (to the extent Tommy is capable of scowling, which isn’t much).
“I can change my mind, ya know,” Tommy threatens, completely ineffectually.
“You won’t,” Ellie says, not even looking at him.
“Since you asked so nicely, you may,” Joel says, ruffling her hair. “Feral gremlin.”
✧∘⢑∘∙∘✧∘⢌∘∙✧
Turns out Tommy can fucking headshot Infected half a mile out.
Ellie can’t wait to tell Joel. She’s sure Joel could too—probably from farther—if he had this scope. If Tommy can do it, Joel definitely can. But Joel was so sure it was bullshit, and she loves telling him when he’s wrong.
They’re on one side of a gorge picking off Infected across the divide. It’s not a high priority for patrol, since the Infected can’t get across to Jackson. But it’s a useful spot for target practice.
Tommy takes his time showing off and Jesse fawns over him. After he’s taken down half a dozen Infected, Tommy walks them through the finer points of long-range shooting: bullet drop, windage (which just means wind, so they added three letters for no reason), and something called parallax adjustment. Jesse is devouring Tommy’s every word and even Dina is riveted.
Ellie’s focused on figuring out her plan of attack, now that the moment is close. Asking him flat out feels all sorts of awkward and uncomfortable. But she can’t think of any casual segues into so, how many secret fears did I reveal that you immediately turned around and told Joel?
“Ellie, you want to try first?” Tommy’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts. He’s holding out the rifle. Figuring he’d probably been saying shit she needs to know for this, Ellie gives Jesse the honors.
She moves closer to watch Jesse so she can take her turn without looking like a complete idiot. Tommy walks Jesse through adjusting all the knobs for parallel dropage or whatever.
Jesse gets an Infected on his first try, but it takes six more to get one in the head. Dina takes a little longer, but Tommy patiently works with her until she gets one in the neck, which she’s happy with.
Ellie takes her place at the perch and Tommy checks the settings on the scope.
“Deep breath in, slow breath out,” Tommy says. “And squeeze the trigger—”
“Like you love it,” Ellie says in her Joel twang. “Is there, like, one Miller recipe for all things?”
She carefully lines up her shot and—despite her mockery—takes a deep breath in, a slow breath out, and pulls the trigger like she loves it.
The shot goes way fucking wide. Ellie grunts in frustration and ejects the cartridge.
“Remember the wind coming from the right will push the bullet,” Tommy says. “So aim a little right of your target.”
Ellie takes another deep breath and squeezes: gentle, steady, nice and slow…
And hits one right between the eyes.
✧∘⢑∘∙∘✧∘⢌∘∙✧
On the way back, Ellie slows Shimmer down so she falls behind the others. As planned, Tommy falls back with her.
“Good job today, Elles–ie ,” Tommy corrects himself. “Ellie.”
“If the three of us can all do it, it’s probably mostly the scope,” Ellie shrugs.
“Probably,” Tommy agrees amiably. He doesn’t fill the silence with chatter like he usually does. It’s like he’s waiting for her to ask, so she does.
“What’d we talk about? The other night.” Ellie keeps her voice low and stares intently at the horn of her saddle.
“Mostly why you don’t like me,” Tommy says lightly.
“You’re not that likable,” Ellie retorts at once.
“So you mentioned,” Tommy agrees.
“And…?” Ellie prompts. Why is this is like pulling fucking teeth? Tommy usually rambles and fills any conversational gaps.
“And… I gave you my theory on why you don’t like me,” Tommy says. “I suggested you might be worried I’d get between you and Joel.”
Ellie feels her cheeks flush.
“That’s stupid,” Ellie says. Without entirely meaning to, she nudges Shimmer into a trot.
“Hey, now,” Tommy says soothingly, grabbing her reins. She’s not sure if he’s trying to soothe her or Shimmer, who looks as annoyed as horses can look.
Dina glances over her shoulder and prompts her horse faster, Jesse following suit, widening the gap between them.
“It ain’t stupid to be worried about something, even if that thing could never ever happen in a million years,” Tommy says gently.
“So, what?” Ellie whispers furiously. “I told you I think I’m cargo and you ran off and tattled to Joel?"
Ellie hadn’t been capable of rational thought when Joel tossed the Not-Cargo Grenade, but the more she thinks about it the more she’s sure she must have told Tommy the night of the party.
Joel, being ancient, forgets what he had for breakfast by lunch, so she doubts he remembers a comment he made almost a year ago. Whereas you’re cargo is permanently echoing in the back of her mind.
That echo’s been getting quieter since he found her outside the burning steakhouse in Colorado. It loses a little of its power over her every time he calls her baby girl or pulls her out of a nightmare. But it’s still always teasing at her, impossible to silence completely.
Joel bringing it up out of nowhere, though? Not fucking likely.
“Well,” Tommy has the good grace to look sheepish. “Joel’s real bad at talking ’bout some stuff. So when I saw you hurting over something you thought Joel thought—which I knew was bullshit—my instinct was to tell him so he could set it right. But I reckon I shoulda talked to you first. Sober.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Ellie says. “Convenient of you to realize that after the fact.”
“I won’t do that again,” Tommy promises. “Or, I reckon I might if I think you’re in danger. But I’ll tell you first.”
“Whatever,” Ellie says. “I’m not planning on making you my diary.”
They ride in silence for a minute, side-by-side.
“What else did you tell Joel?” Ellie asks.
“Nothing,” Tommy says, meeting her eye. “Promise.”
Ellie believes him, but only because Joel is too fucking awkward to have two separate conversations about feelings when he could have one.
“I told you some stuff, though,” Tommy says. “Wanna hear it?”
Ellie shrugs. She’d much rather hear what she told him. She never talks about her worry that she’s cargo in case speaking the words makes it true. If she dredged that up, what the fuck else did she say?
“I’m persistent—it’s a family trait,” Tommy says. “I ain’t gonna give up trying to get to know you. Being my oldest niece’s Uncle Tommy was one of the best parts of my life. I’d really like to have that with my younger niece too. But I gotta get to know you first, because you ain’t some replacement for Sarah. You’re your own kid, Ellie. My brother’s younger daughter. And I really want to be your Uncle Tommy.”
The words slip past all her defenses and get a critical hit. Her fear that she’s a stand-in for Sarah: out in the open.
“You just said that, unprompted?” Ellie asks sardonically.
“Uncles always know the right thing to say.” And then, in a rare twist, Tommy shuts the fuck up and lets her think.
She obviously told him that she knows she’s a pale imitation of a reflection of a shadow of Joel’s real daughter.
But he’s not calling her on it or making fun of her. He’s just telling her it’s not true (though it is) and seems ready to move on if she wants to.
And he hasn’t once called her out on all the shit she’s been doing to him. She’d probably be in trouble if Tommy told Joel she’s been putting kitty litter in his boots every day—both for doing it and stealing the neighbor's kitty litter. (But that’s pretty much on their crazy cat lady neighbor for keeping spare bags in a storage shed with such a shitty lock.)
His crimes against her thus far mainly consist of being suspiciously nice, bribing her with stuff she likes, and diverting Joel’s attention from being solely on her. Her crimes against him include daily boot tampering, occasional assault, and some pretty devastating verbal burns.
And it doesn't feel horrible, having those fears out in the open. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have an uncle in her corner.
“So,” Ellie says, “how does the uncle thing work? Other than you being Joel’s idiot brother.”
Tommy’s face fucking lights up, and she looks away in secondhand embarrassment for him.
“There’re a lot of perks, but the most important part is teaming up against Joel. It’s much easier to needle him if we tag-team. And stories! I got lots,” Tommy says. “He ever tell you about his little league championship game?”
“What d’you think?” Ellie asks.
“Then allow me…” Tommy begins. Ellie hears all about it as they make their way towards Jackson, Joel, and home.