Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The market was bustling with life, crowded with neighbors and families, all preparing for what they called “hibernation.”. During the fall, everyone made it their mission to stock up on fruit, nuts, and anything rich in vitamin C—anything that could help bolster their immune systems and ward off the inevitable colds and viruses. The air was crisp and biting, but the atmosphere hummed with warmth: laughter, chatter. It was the kind of scene Joel had never thought he’d be part of again, but now, he found it oddly comforting.

Joel and Tommy moved through the market together, weaving between stalls. Joel’s basket was already heavy with produce, and whatever he picked up, Tommy was quick to grab too. It was almost funny—Tommy, with all his swagger and bravado, still mimicking his older brother like they were kids again.

“Joel, what do you have? Let me see,” Tommy said, craning his neck to peek over Joel’s shoulder like an eager kid.

Joel glanced back at him, amused. “Calm down, will ya? Oranges are good—loaded with vitamin C—but apples, those are like little energy bombs. You can’t go wrong with apples.”

Tommy’s hands were already reaching for a bag of apples from the nearest stall. Joel couldn’t help but smile, the moment oddly warm despite the chill that bit through their coats.
For Joel, the mission was simple: Get Ellie healthy. It had become something of a hyperfixation for him. Every time she had energy, every time she looked a little less pale, a little more alive, it gave him this quiet sense of accomplishment.

“Joel, c’mon, what else?” Tommy’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Joel sighed and looked at his brother, who was holding his basket like a soldier awaiting orders.

Tommy shot him a look, equal parts exasperation and amusement. “Maria’s in her last trimester, man. I gotta keep baby mama healthy. You’ve done this before, you know shit.”

Joel could see the pride shining through. The way Tommy’s face lit up when he mentioned Maria—it wasn’t something Joel had seen much of growing up, not in their family. But here Tommy was, a full-on family man, and Joel couldn’t help but feel proud of him.
“Listen,” Joel said, leaning in a little like he was letting Tommy in on some grand secret. His voice dipped low. “Get her some mints. She needs a lot of water, and you gotta make it taste good, y’hear?”

Tommy furrowed his brow, clearly taking mental notes. Joel smirked, shaking his head a little.

“And you can’t just hand her bland fruit. She ain’t gonna want it. Dress it up a bit—throw in some nuts, maybe a little butter or honey. Make it taste good, somethin’ she’ll actually wanna eat.”

Tommy nodded, his face all serious, like Joel had just handed him a blueprint to save the world. “Alright, mints. Apples with nuts. I gotcha.”
Joel snorted softly. “Don’t make it more complicated than it is, Tommy. Just keep it simple, and keep it comin’. She’s gonna need it.”

Tommy listened ,nodding seriously as he scanned the stalls for nuts. Joel chuckled to himself, shaking his head. His little brother was out here prepping for fatherhood like it was a military operation.
Leaving Tommy to his nut hunt, Joel turned back to his own shopping. He shifted the weight of his basket on his arm, eyes scanning the rows of fruits, vegetables, and preserves. His mind wandered, as it often did, to Ellie. She’d probably roll her eyes at him for bringing back another load of fruit, but he’d see the soft smile that appeared on her face as she ate whatever he prepared with love.

Joel was done picking out what he needed. His basket was full, weighed down with apples, oranges, nuts, and a few other things he figured Ellie wouldn’t complain too much about. But when he glanced around, Tommy was nowhere in sight. Typical.

The nagging headache that had been riding him all day wasn’t helping either. It’d been a long damn patrol—cold as hell too, the kind of cold that cut straight through your coat and left your joints aching. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake it off as his eyes scanned the market. No Tommy.

He sighed, debating for half a second whether he should just leave. But he already knew how that’d play out. Tommy would catch wind of it and show up later at the house, all dramatic and loud, acting like Joel had committed some kind of betrayal by ditching him. He didn’t have the energy for all that.

So, instead, he looked around for a bench. There was one near the edge of the square, tucked out of the way. It didn’t look particularly comfortable, but it’d do. Joel made his way over and sat down with a grunt, feeling the stiffness in his knees as he lowered himself.

Yeah, Tommy would probably give him hell for this too. Something about "old man knees" or "gettin’ soft." Joel could already hear his brother’s teasing drawl, but whatever. He was tired, and he was old. Sitting down for five damn minutes wasn’t a crime.

He leaned back, letting his body relax just a little. The market buzzed on around him—voices rising and falling, the clatter of crates being unloaded, a kid laughing somewhere nearby. It was noisy, but not in a way that grated on him. It was the kind of noise that felt alive, vibrant. For a fleeting moment, as he closed his eyes, Joel could almost convince himself he was back before it all fell apart—back when life was simpler, back when Sarah was still here.

He could see her clear as day, a little thing bouncing at his side, her hand tucked into his as they walked through the market. She’d squeal with delight every time she spotted a fruit stand, her eyes lighting up like it was Christmas morning. Joel had taken her to the market out of necessity—it was cheaper than the grocery store, and money was always tight back then. But Sarah? She saw it as an adventure. Every trip, no matter how mundane, was magic to her. All that mattered to her was to spend time with him.

His chest warmed at the memory, the ache of loss dulled by the unexpected rush of fondness. For once, it wasn’t the crushing sadness that came when he thought of her. It was warmth. A very comforting warmth.

Oh, baby he thought, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips, you would’ve loved this. You’d love this town.

The sound of boots scuffing snapped him out of it. He opened his eyes to see Tommy striding toward him, a smug grin plastered across his face and his arms full of whatever haul he’d gathered.

“Alright, I’m done,” Tommy declared, practically puffing his chest out like he’d just conquered the whole damn market. “I got everything. Now c’mon, you old fucker, I wanna go home.”

Joel let out a long-suffering sigh as he pushed himself up off the bench, his knees popping audibly. He was already forming a plan in his head to smack the smug right off Tommy’s big mouth once they got home.

But Tommy, ever the little brother, could read him like a book. “Nah-ah, Joel,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “Don’t you dare Joel. I got a reputation to maintain.”

Joel just grunted, his lips twitching into a reluctant smirk. “Hm.”

Tommy caught the look and laughed harder, the sound carrying through the cold air. Joel couldn’t help but chuckle along, shaking his head. This little shit.

They walked home, arms full, the weight of the cold settling into Joel’s bones. The earlier teasing from Tommy had faded, his usual grin replaced by something quieter. Joel didn’t miss it—he’d noticed it creeping in lately, that look Tommy got when he thought nobody was paying attention. Like the weight of everything was pressing down on him all at once.
Joel kept walking for a few steps before he finally reached out, resting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low.

Tommy glanced at him, flashing a quick, half-assed smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
Joel frowned. “Uh-huh. Sure you are.” He stopped walking, forcing Tommy to stop too. “C’mon now, talk to me.”
Tommy hesitated, his hands flexing on the basket he was carrying. For a second, he looked like a little kid again, like the same kid Joel used to find staring at the floor after they’d caught hell from their dad. Finally, he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m scared, Joel.”

“Scared of what?” Joel asked, his tone softer now.

Tommy looked down at the ground, his voice uneven. “Of screwin’ it up. Of messin’ this whole thing up. What if I can’t do it, Joel? What if I ain’t cut out for this?”

Joel studied him for a moment, the way his brother’s shoulders were hunched . The exact same fear went through him decades ago, he cursed their father for making them so scared at the thought of fatherhood.

Joel let out a small sigh and looked up at the sky for half a second, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. Sarah, you seein’ this? He thought to himself. He turned back to Tommy, grabbing his arm firmly to make him stop walking. “Listen to me, Tommy. It’s a big change. Hell, you should be scared. It’d be weird if you weren’t.”

Tommy shook his head, his voice raw. “Yeah, but what if I—”
“Stop it,” Joel cut him off, his tone firm but not harsh. “You ain’t gonna screw it up. You’ve already done this, Tommy. You think I don’t remember how you took care of Sarah when I couldn’t? You stepped up for her, and for Ellie too. You are made for this”
Tommy blinked at him, his face softening as the words sank in. Slowly, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. For a second, Joel could see the tension melting off him.

Joel smirked, his grip still firm on Tommy’s arm. “You’re gonna be alright. Trust me on this.”
Tommy chuckled softly, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Thanks, Joel.”
Joel shifted the weight of his basket in his hands. “ Let’s get goin’. My arms are gonna give out before we get back if we stand here much longer.”

Tommy laughed at that, and the sound was light, real. “Alright, old man, let’s go.”
Joel started walking again, but before he could take more than a couple steps, Tommy called after him.
“Hey, Joel?”

Joel turned, raising an eyebrow.
Tommy grinned, the warmth back in his face. “Appreciate it.”
Joel huffed, turning back around. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me regret it.”
Tommy laughed again, and the sound carried them both through the cold, the weight of the moment easing just a little as they headed home.

Joel was relieved to finally be home. The cold had seeped into his bones on the walk back, and that headache of his was still nagging at him, but as soon as he stepped through the door, a little excited voice made him forget every ache in his body.

"Joel?!"

He smiled to himself, the sound of her voice easing the tension in his shoulders. "Yeah, I’m home."

A small figure appeared from the living room, wrapped in a blanket that made her look small and cozy. It was such a homey, familiar sight that it made his heart twist in a way he didn’t quite expect. She looked up at him with that soft smile of hers, all warmth .

“How you doin’, kiddo?” Joel asked, stepping into the warmth of the house.

She grinned back at him. “Fucking peachy and freezing.”

She stretched her hand out, always eager to help when he came home with a basket or something in his hands. She grabbed the basket from him like it was second nature.

“Hell yeah!” she exclaimed, and he chuckled. God, this kid. She had the mouth of a sailor but was polite as hell—he couldn’t help but love her for it.

“You should wear more clothes, kid,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he watched her shiver.

She shot him a mock-offended look. “Dude, I’m wearing two socks, three layers, and a blanket.”

He smirked. “Well, it’s just you. I’m warm.”

She gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it and reached for his hand. As expected, it was freezing. She raised an eyebrow at him, deadpan. “Yup, I’m the dramatic one.”

Joel let out a soft laugh, ruffling her hair playfully.

“Hey! Don’t touch my hair!” she protested, trying to bat his hand away.

He chuckled, watching her swat at him. “Go change. I’m starving, man.”

With that, Joel trudged upstairs. The ache between his eyes was stubborn, and every muscle in his body felt like it had been put through the wringer. Patrol days in the cold always left him feeling older than he already was. As he reached his room, he could hear Ellie moving around downstairs. She was putting away the fruit and vegetables, she always dramatically exclaimed how good everything smelled, poor kid had never had fresh food.

Joel cleaned up quickly, splashing cold water on his face in the hopes it’d take the edge off the headache. When he headed back downstairs, the smell hit him before he even reached the kitchen.

Lasagna.

The real kind. He had made it himself in the morning, with actual fresh meat. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, taking in the smell, his stomach growling like he hadn’t eaten in days. He heard Ellie mutter “Shit, that smells so good,” as he walked into the kitchen.

Ellie turned to face him, her face flushed from the warmth of the oven.

She’d already set the table, two plates sitting there waiting for them. Joel pulled out a chair and sat down heavily at the table, sighing as he did.

Joel noticed how quickly she joined him—his feral little kid, always preferring company over solitude. Not that he could blame her. He hated being alone too.

“Dig in, old man,” Ellie said, grinning as she shoved a fork into his hand.

Joel smirked, there was something comforting in the way she said it—like it was their little ritual now. He took a bite, letting the warmth of the food settle into him before glancing at her.

“So,” he asked, his voice casual, “how was your day?”

It was such a small question, but Joel loved this part of their routine. Just talking. Just normal. And the way Ellie lit up whenever he asked made it clear she loved it too.

Her face broke into a wide smile. “We had farm rotation at school,” she said, leaning forward on the table like she was about to tell him the world’s biggest secret. “And I thought I’d hate it, but it was actually pretty fucking cool. Like, we got to learn about feeding the goats and shit, and—get this—one of the goats tried to eat Dina’s hat. Funniest thing I’ve ever seen, Joel, I swear.”

Joel chuckled softly, watching her hands move animatedly as she spoke. “Goats, huh? They teach you how to milk one yet?”

Ellie wrinkled her nose. “No, thank God. I’m not putting my hands anywhere near a goat's... you know.”

Joel laughed quietly, shaking his head as she kept talking, her words spilling out faster than he could keep up. She rattled on about every detail—what she learned, what her classmates said, how she thought goats were kind of badass now. Joel didn’t mind one bit. He asked a question here and there, just enough to keep her going.

After dinner, they sat at the table longer than they probably should’ve. Another new habit, just talking. There was something grounding about it, about coming home to this kid who wanted to tell him every single detail about her day. Nothing was ever left out—every goat, every awkward moment, every stupid joke one of the other kids cracked. Joel didn’t realize how much he needed it until it became a regular thing.

When they finally got up to clean, it was like second nature. Cleaning up had become its own little routine too. Joel washed the dishes while Ellie dried them with the towel, her small hands moving quickly to keep up.

“You missed a spot,” she said, pointing at the plate he’d just handed her.

Joel smirked. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” she shot back.

He reached over, booping her nose with his soapy hand. She recoiled immediately, her face twisting in mock disgust. “Ugh! Joel!”

He chuckled. “That’s what you get, kid.”

She wiped her face with the towel before throwing it at him. “You dick!” she said laughin hard.

Joel laughed, grabbing another plate to wash.

They fell into a rhythm after that—him washing, her drying, bickering back and forth like they always did. It was simple, almost mundane, but Joel found himself treasuring it. There was a peace in these moments, a kind of quiet joy he never thought he’d have again.

The night went smoothly. They finished their routine and prepped for bed, but that headache of Joel’s was getting worse. It was starting to feel like it was punching him in the head, and he couldn’t wait for sleep to come and take it away. Of course, Ellie was sitting at the end of his bed, her eyes wide with that “I don’t wanna go to bed” look, wanting to stay there for as long as possible.

Yeah, he knew she should be sleeping in her own room, he got that, but damn if he didn’t understand it. He understood how lonely it could get, how loud the silence could feel sometimes, and how the nightmares could claw at you until you didn’t want to be alone. What harm was there if she stayed with him? He was too damn tired to argue about it tonight.

“Well, let’s get to sleep,” he said, pulling the covers up.

Ellie looked up at him like a kicked puppy, her big eyes practically begging.

Joel sighed, shaking his head but lifting the covers as an invite. A smile spread across her face, and she squirmed under them in one swift movement. He chuckled, his headache momentarily forgotten. He reached for the lamp beside the bed and turned off the light.

"Joel?"

He was almost asleep already, but the way she said his name made him crack one eye open.

"Yeah?" he whispered back.

"You okay?"

Joel blinked in confusion. Why the hell was she asking that? He shifted to face her. “Yeah, kiddo, why?”

She hesitated for a moment, then asked again, “Headache?”

Now, Joel was genuinely baffled. How did she know? Sure, they spent a lot of time together, especially on the road, but this was next-level. “How’d you know?” he whispered.

Ellie paused, her voice soft but confident when she spoke again. "You were pinching your nose. You always do that when I annoy you and you say..." She braced herself, mimicking him in her best Texan accent, “Ellie, quit givin’ me a headache.”

He shook his head and chuckled, finally letting his body relax into the pillow. “It’s fine, kid. Long day, cold as hell outside, good sleep is all I need.”

Ellie shifted closer, her head almost resting against his arm. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice so small. Joel’s chest tightened just a little as he looked down at her, that familiar protective instinct rising up. This kid—she was gonna be the death of him.

"Night, Joel," she murmured, already half-asleep.

"Night, kid," he whispered back.

Chapter Text

Morning came way too soon for Joel. He cracked one eye open, the headache pounding behind his temple like a hammer. The small, comforting weight that was usually curled up next to him was gone, and he could tell it was later than he ever let himself sleep. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it—10 a.m.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. Joel never woke up this late, but at least they had the day off. Small mercies.

He groaned as he forced himself upright, the ache in his head making itself known even more. Something told him he was coming down with a cold. His throat felt scratchy, and his whole body seemed to be dragging. He could hear faint music playing from downstairs, and despite the headache, the sound brought a tiny, reluctant smile to his face.

Dragging himself to the bathroom, he splashed some water on his face, not even bothering to look in the mirror for long. He already knew he probably looked rough. His hair was a mess, his beard a little scruffier than usual. Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before heading down the stairs.

The second he made it into the kitchen, Ellie doubled over, cackling like she’d just heard the funniest joke in the world.

“Oh. My. God. Joel!” she wheezed between fits of laughter. “You look like a whole disaster, man!” She slapped her knee for extra effect, her grin stretching ear to ear.

Joel shook his head, already smirking at her antics. “Haha, real funny, says you, your hair looks like a birds nest.”

“What can I say?” Ellie grinned mischievously, tossing her hair like she was in a shampoo commercial. “We’re twinsies.”

That earned a low chuckle out of Joel, one that came from deep in his chest. Shaking his head, he made his way to the kitchen table.

The table was already set, the sight making Joel pause. She’d laid everything out—plates, cups, and even a bowl of the cut-up fruit. His heart softened immediately.

Ellie, noticing him rub his temples unconsciously , darted to the counter. But instead of bringing over his usual cup of coffee, she plunked down a glass of water in front of him.

Joel looked at her all offended, which made her giggle. “Where’s my coffee?”

She stood tall, hands on her hips, her tone mockingly stern. “You’ve got a headache, old man. Gotta rule out dehydration first.”

“But—”

“No buts!” she interrupted, wagging a finger at him. “Joel, you can’t be in Jackson and be dehydrated. That’s embarrassing. Like, really embarrassing.” She squinted at him, adding in a disappointed head shake for good measure. “Shameful.”

Joel sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to let this one go. And honestly? He didn’t have the energy to argue. As much as it annoyed him, she was right—he should drink more water, among other things, it’s just really not a priority in his head. He hated that she was worrying about him, though. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Desperate to shift the attention off himself, he asked, “How long you been up?”

Ellie shrugged, casually leaning against the counter. “I dunno. Since like… 8? Something like that.”

Joel frowned, guilt tugging at him. She shouldn’t have been the one to make breakfast. That was his job. Always had been. His eyes fell to the table again, spotting the bowl of fruit she’d carefully cut up. Strawberries, apple slices, even some orange slices—all arranged just the way he’d taught her.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Joel asked, his voice quiet and just a little sheepish as he glanced at her.

Ellie scrunched up her face, shrugging casually. “You looked tired. Figured you could use the rest for once. It’s no big deal, Joel.” She offered him a soft smile.

She knew him too well—how he beat himself up over the smallest things, how he always felt like he needed to takee care of everything. And he did, more than she ever imagined someone would do for her. But she liked to take care of him too. He barely ever let her, always brushing it off or insisting he was fine. So moments like these? She liked to take full advantage of them.

“Eat, come on,” she said, nudging the bowl of fruit toward him. “It looks so fuckin’ colorful.”

Joel couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Ellie noticed the smile and, in her head, gave herself an imaginary high five. She knew Joel always went out of his way to get good fruit for her, making sure there was a variety—she figured the least she could do was compliment his effort.

Breakfast passed by, filled with a warm energy. Ellie chatted between bites, her energy always a little infectious, but Joel stayed mostly quiet. He looked tired, his usual strong presence a little worn around the edges today, and Ellie definitely noticed.

As they finished up and started washing dishes together, Joel glanced at her, wiping his hands on a towel. “So, what d’you wanna do today?”

Ellie didn’t miss the slight weariness in his voice. He was asking her because he always did, and she knew no matter what she said, he’d try his best to make it happen. If she said she wanted to go outside and explore, he’d agree in a heartbeat, even if he was dragging.

So, instead, she shrugged and kept it simple. “I wanna draw , got some good ideas. Maybe watch a movie after dinner?”

Joel’s shoulders visibly relaxed, the tension easing from them as he gave her a nod. “Yeah,” he said softly, a small smile creeping onto his face. “That sounds good, kiddo.”

The day was shaping up to be a quiet one—just what they both needed.

After breakfast, they settled into their usual spots in the living room. Ellie sprawled out on one end of the couch, her notebook balanced on her knees, while Joel sat on the other side with his book in hand. It was a familiar, comforting routine, one they’d fallen into so easily since settling in Jackson.

But today, Joel’s face felt heavier than usual. No matter how much he tried to shake it off, the dull ache in his head refused to go away. Maybe Ellie was right earlier, and he really was dehydrated. Or maybe it was the start of a cold—one of those small but miserable nuisances that could leave you feeling like you’d been hit by a truck. Especially without anything stronger than water to deal with the headache, they kept the painkillers for shitty things.

He tried to focus on his book, but he could feel Ellie’s eyes on him. The kid noticed everything. She always had. Fucking annoying it was.

Joel forced a smile, hoping to reassure her and keep her from worrying too much. Sure enough, she smiled back—though it was a little hesitant—and went back to her notebook, scribbling away.

But Joel didn’t last long. It wasn’t even twenty minutes before his eyelids started to feel impossibly heavy. Ellie caught it from the corner of her eye—how his head would slowly dip forward, then jerk back up like he was trying to fight it.

She watched as he rubbed at his eyes, then let his head fall back against the couch, his expression scrunched up in discomfort.

“Dude,” she finally said, raising an eyebrow. “You just woke up.” Her voice was teasing, but there was a little concern mixed in there too.

Joel mumbled without opening his eyes. “My eyes are just dry.”

Ellie wasn’t buying it. She closed her notebook, leaned over, and pressed her palm to his forehead. He batted her hand away almost immediately.

“Quit that,” he muttered. “I’m fine, kiddo.”

She grunted dramatically, her sarcasm loud and clear. “Yeah, sure you are.” She didn’t push it, though. Joel was stubborn as hell, and arguing with him when he was like this was a lost cause. But even if she didn’t say it, she knew he wasn’t fine. His forehead had been warmer than usual—just enough to set off a tiny alarm in her mind.

Still, she figured the best thing to do was leave him alone for now. If she pressed too hard, he’d just keep pretending he was okay, and that wouldn’t help anyone.

And, well, she was right. It didn’t take long for Joel to doze off, his book slipping from his hands as his breathing evened out.

Ellie set her notebook aside, watching him for a moment. Some part of her was freaked out—it was always weird seeing Joel like this, vulnerable in a way she wasn’t used to. But the rational part of her brain reminded her that he was just tired. Exhausted, really.

As grueling as the road had been, they’d both been in survival mode the entire time. It was like their bodies hadn’t allowed them to feel the full weight of it until they finally stopped, until they were safe. Joel had told her that over and over again, usually when she was beating herself up for feeling so drained all the time.

And now here he was, out cold on the couch, looking way more worn out than she’d seen him in a while.

Ellie sighed, grabbing the blanket draped over the back of the couch. She gently spread it over him, careful not to wake him.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Ellie decided to head to the kitchen. Maybe a fruit juice would help Joel feel better. That kind of stuff was good, right? Or whatever he was dealing with. And, knowing Joel, if she made some for him, she’d have to make one for herself too. The guy wouldn’t take a sip unless she was drinking it right along with him.

She opened the fridge—their fridge. It still blew her mind sometimes, even after months of living in Jackson. The thing was packed with fruit, veggies, jars of things she couldn’t even name. It was colorful, full, and theirs.

“So cool,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief. No matter how much time passed, it was something she just couldn’t get used to. After all that time scavenging and rationing scraps on the road, having this kind of choices felt like a dream she didn’t fully trust yet.

Ellie grabbed a handful of fruit, when she heard the door open. Her heart stopped for a second.

Shit, shit, shit.

That was Joel’s loud-ass brother, Tommy. No mistaking the sound of those boots stomping in like he owned the place.

Ellie dropped the fruit on the counter and sprinted toward the door like a little blur of panic.

“Joe—!” he started already.

“Shhh! Shhh!” she hissed, throwing her hands up. “Fucking shush!”

Tommy blinked, startled. “What the—” he said loudly, looking confused, ofcourse he couldn’t read clues.

“Dude,” she cut him off, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I said, fucking shush!”

“What the fuck is going on?” Tommy whisper-yelled, clearly not understanding why they were suddenly in the middle of a secret spy mission.

“Joel’s sleeping,” she whisper-yelled back, her eyes wide and dead serious.

“Why you screaming then?” Tommy asked, still whisper-yelling, his face scrunched up in mock confusion.

“Because—” She stopped mid-sentence, realizing he’d just flipped the whole thing on her. The look on her face must’ve been priceless because Tommy started laughing, his shoulders shaking as he tried to keep it quiet.

Her cheeks puffed out in frustration. He was enjoying this way too much.

“You’re such an ass,” she muttered, punching him in the arm—playfully.

Tommy held his hands up in surrender, still grinning like a kid who just got away with something. “Alright, alright, I’ll be quiet. Geez, kid, relax.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie muttered, rolling her eyes, but she couldn’t stop the little smile that crept onto her face. Tommy noticed, and his teasing expression softened.

“Your old man okay?” he asked quietly, his voice just a bit more serious.

“Yeah,” Ellie replied, tossing the question away with a shrug. “He’s tired, I think.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed. He’d noticed Joel looking a bit off yesterday too.

“Your brother’s a fucking hardass,” Ellie added with a dramatic huff. “He won’t take care of himself.”

Tommy chuckled at that, shaking his head. “Got me there, kid.”

Ellie motioned for him to follow her back to the kitchen, and, in true Tommy style, he made a beeline straight for the fridge.

Of course, Ellie wasn’t about to let that slide.

“Dude…” Ellie said, waving her hands dramatically as Tommy turned around from the fridge.

“What?” he asked, already holding a plate of lasagna like he’d found buried treasure. “I’m hungry.”

Ellie smirked and gestured at the plate. “You come over here just for Joel’s leftovers or what?”

Tommy grinned. “What can I say? The man knows how to cook.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie muttered, turning back to her fruit. But then she glanced over at him and added with a teasing grin, “You ever think you like Joel’s food too much?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow at her, the smirk never leaving his face. Without missing a beat, he set his plate down, shrugged off his jacket, and flexed his arms.

“Does this look like too much to you, huh?” he said, winking like an absolute dork.

Ellie groaned, making puking sounds. “Oh, God, stop. You’re gonna make me puke”

Tommy chuckled, grabbing his plate again. “Admit it. You’re impressed.”

“I’m not impressed,” Ellie shot back, snorting. “I’m disgusted.”

Tommy laughed even harder, clearly having too much fun at his own expense.

But before they could continue, they both froze at the sound of a dry, raspy cough coming from the living room. It was sharp and uncomfortable enough to make them wince.

They both hurried into the living room, where Joel was now awake, rubbing his face with one hand and wiping his mouth with the other.

“Well, hello there, little brother,” Joel rasped, his voice rough but carrying that familiar dry humor.

Tommy stepped toward the couch, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. Ellie lingered near the doorway, her eyes darting between them.

“Howdy, Joel,” Tommy greeted, his tone casual but laced with concern. “You good, brother?”

Joel leaned back into the couch with a groan, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he muttered, then smiled faintly at Tommy. “Just tired.”

He gave Tommy a pointed look. “How’s the missus?”

Tommy’s chest puffed up a little as he grinned. “Good—real happy with the fruit.” He raised his eyebrows and added with pride, “I did what you said.”

Joel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Guess miracles do happen.”

Ellie watched them from the edge of the room, her hands fidgeting at her sides. Joel’s laugh was always reassuring, but seeing him so drained still made her stomach twist.

She couldn’t stand there anymore. She spun on her heel and headed back to the kitchen, forcing herself to focus on finishing the juice. He’s fine. Apparently he wasnt dehydrated, just a cold. That’s all.

But even as she chopped up more fruit, her mind kept spinning. A cold could still—no, stop it. Joel’s okay. He’s just tired, she reminded herself again and again.

The sound of him coughing broke through the low murmur of their voices, sharp and dry. Ellie flinched, her knife pausing mid-slice. Stupid, stupid. She hated how small she felt in moments like this, like a little kid all over again.

Taking a steadying breath, she grabbed a bit more fruit and got back to work. If she didn’t, her brain would just keep spiraling.

Once the juice was ready, she poured it into three glasses, making sure to grab enough for Tommy too. If she didn’t, he’d get those ridiculous puppy-dog eyes.

With the drinks balanced carefully on a tray, Ellie headed back toward the living room, ready to play it cool and make sure Joel had everything he needed—even if she was still a little freaked inside.

Chapter Text

To say Joel felt tired was an understatement. Holy shit. He hadn’t had a cold like this in years. Figures—now that they were safe, his body was now giving him a bitch slap, punishing him for all the hell he’d put it through.

By evening, his throat was raw from that damn dry cough. But honestly? That wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was the looks Ellie kept giving him. Yeah, Tommy’s concerned glances were annoying, but Ellie? Every time he coughed, she looked scared, and that made something deep in his chest tighten.

He’d told her so many times that he was fine. That it was just a cold.

Joel glanced at the clock. 5 p.m. Dinner time.

With a groan, he pushed himself up—not from the cold, but from his old, stubborn knees. Before he could even straighten up, Ellie shot to her feet like she’d been spring-loaded.

“Oh, no no no—Joel, sit the fuck down!” she blurted, lunging to grab his arm.

Joel, quicker than she expected, caught her shoulder first, steadying her instead. “Ellie, kiddo, it’s a cold. I’m not incapacitated.”

Ellie blinked up at him, her eyebrows scrunching in surprise.

Joel smirked. “Yeah, I know a lot of words, you little shit. Don’t look so surprised.”

That got the tiniest smile out of her, but her concern was still written all over her face, practically radiating off her.

Joel sighed, trying again. “Come on, whaddaya feel like eatin’?”

Before she could even think of an answer, another wave of coughing tore through his chest. He turned, coughing into his elbow, while Ellie stood there way too still.

She had to have seen colds before. Hell, this was nothing compared to the last time he was hurt. But when he looked at her again, she hadn’t moved an inch.

“Come on, I know you’re hungry,” he said gently.

She still didn’t move.

Joel exhaled through his nose. He could see the thoughts running in circles inside her head, the way her shoulders tensed and her jaw clenched. Ellie felt so small, some part of her knew she was overreacting. That it was just a cold.

But that other part of her—the part that had seen him bleeding out in the snow, the part that had nearly lost him—was terrified.

Because what if it wasn’t just a cold? What if this was something worse? What if one day, something did take Joel away from her?

She had finally started settling into Jackson. But without Joel, none of it mattered.

Before her thoughts could spiral any further, she felt a hand slip over hers. Warm, solid. Steady.

Ellie looked up.

Joel was smiling, his rough, tired hand gently squeezing hers. He didn’t say anything—just looked at her, patient and reassuring. Then, with a little tug, he started leading her toward the kitchen.

“I’m starvin’,” he said, his voice still hoarse but full of warmth. “How ‘bout some puchero?”

Ellie furrowed her brows. “Some what?”

Joel grinned as she hopped up onto the counter, already knowing he’d have to explain.

"pu-che-ro," Joel said slowly, watching her reaction. "It’s a nice warm meal for this kinda weather—cold and wet."

He glanced over at her and had to fight the urge to smirk. There it is. That little spark of curiosity in her eyes. He wanted to high-five himself.

"It’s a flavour bomb," he continued, leaning against the counter. "It's got chicken and a few other things we actually got now."

Ellie’s eyes lit up, and before he could say anything else, she launched herself off the counter and practically sprinted to the fridge.

Joel chuckled. "Grab me some chickpeas, carrots, maybe some corn too vinegar, tomatoes, onions, garlic, potatoes..."

"Dude slow down , slow down " she called out dramatically, throwing him a playful salute as she started grabbing everything.

By the time he’d washed his hands, his little dramatic feral cat had already piled everything onto the counter like an offering.

She stepped back, then lifted her hands like she was presenting something grand. "Still can't believe we have all these things." Joel nodded, he too was impressed with the amount of food Jackson had, truth to be told he loved giving her all these colorful meals. "What kind of name is chickpeas anyway" she scrunched up her nose, and Joel snorted, that was a question only she would ask. "Beats me kid". He took a deep breath. He needed to sit down, at least—his body wasn’t letting him stand for long today. As he started cutting the tomatoes, he could feel the curiosity radiating off her.

She wanted to ask. He knew it. She always wanted to know the story behind every meal. And honestly? He had no idea why, but he loved giving each meal a story. Even if they were just made up.

You could’ve just made something up, I would’ve believed you

Joel glanced up, already smiling. "My mom used to make this for us, we didn’t have alot. But she made sure to make each meal special," he said, his voice laced with quiet fondness, this one was a true story. "She’d make it with so much enthusiasm, like it was some kind of magic potion or somethin’."

Ellie leaned in, her elbows on the table, chin smushed against her palms. Hanging onto every word.

"Then I made it for Sarah," Joel went on, warmth settling in his chest. "She loved it. Called it the special soup too."

His hands kept moving, steady and practiced, but his mind drifted for a second—to Sarah’s small hands holding a warm bowl, the way her nose scrunched up before she took a sip, the way she’d hum in satisfaction afterward. Hug him so tight as if he had given her the world.

When he looked up again, Ellie was still watching him, eyes soft. So soft.

Joel exhaled, shaking himself out of it. He smiled at her instead. "So now Im making it for you… I hope you’ll like it too."

Ellie’s heart ached in the best way. She got the message, her throat burned a bit. He had been doing everything and anything for her to prove how much he cared about her, but everytime he send her these signs she could feel her throat burn.

God, she wanted to hug him so bad. She wanted to squeeze him until he understood—until he really understood that she felt that way too.
She swallowed down the feeling and grinned instead. "I’m sure I will."

Joel cleared his throat, trying to shake off the emotions creeping up on him. They still didn’t really know how to handle this overwhelming love for each other—always deflecting, always brushing past it before it got too much.

"Mind givin’ me the other ingredients?" he asked, voice a little rough.

Ellie nodded, smiling as she stood up. But just as she turned toward the counter—

That cough.

Loud. Dry. Rough.

Her stomach clenched as she whipped around.

Joel was hunched over, coughing hard into his elbow, his face going red.

Ellie froze.

Shit. Shit.

Her brain scrambled for something—anything—to do. Water. Water helps, right?

Move, idiot. She practically lunged for the glass sitting nearby, gripping it tight as she turned back to him.

Joel caught the movement, his watery eyes meeting hers. He reached for the glass with a shaky hand, but the coughing wouldn’t let up.

Ellie’s heart hammered in her chest. Why is it so bad? Why does it sound like that?

Her mind raced. Does he have pneumonia or something? Is this worse than just a cold?

She had no fucking clue.

But she hated how helpless she felt watching him struggle like this.

Joel managed to catch a break between coughs, quickly taking a sip of water. It helped—a little—enough that he could at least breathe again.

"Fuck," he rasped, rubbing his chest. He straightened up and turned to Ellie. "Thanks," he said softly.

She didn’t say anything—just watched him, eyes wide with worry.

Shit. He was scaring her again. Get it together, Joel.

He forced a smile. "Come on… let’s finish this meal."

The room felt quieter now, the usual playful energy replaced with a heaviness she couldn’t shake. They moved towards the stove now..

Ellie nodded, she couldn’t stop noticing the way his skin looked a little paler. Or maybe she was just imagining it? Her mind was racing. Should she go to the clinic? Was this worse than he was letting on?

But then—

His arm.

Joel’s arm was draped loosely around her shoulder.

She blinked, staring into the warm abyss of the soup, feeling his solid warmth next to her. Without a word, she just leaned into him, letting herself rest against his side.

Joel didn’t pull away. He didn’t say anything at all.

Instead, he just held her closer. Tightened his arm around her tense shoulders.

Even when he had to grab the salt or stir the pot, he didn’t let go. They just shuffled around together, moving as one.

Like they always did.

—-------------------------------------
Joel scooped up a spoonful of soup from the pot and held it out to her.

"The honors is yours. Tell me if it’s ready," he said, that soft, just-for-her kind of smile on his face.

Ellie took the spoon, blew on it a little, then took a sip.

Holy shit.

Her eyes lit up. "Yes, chef!" she declared dramatically, spinning around to start setting the table. But just as she grabbed the bowls, an even better idea popped into her head.

"Joooeelllll," she sang, drawing out his name in that unmistakable I’m about to ask for something tone.

He huffed a little laugh, already knowing where this was going.

"Yeah, yeah, we can eat on the couch, kiddo."

Ellie grinned in triumph and practically bolted toward the living room. Joel could hear her rustling around, moving pillows and grabbing blankets, making everything just right. By the time he followed with two glasses of water, she was putting the finishing touches on his little setup—fluffing the cushions, smoothing out the blankets, making sure his spot was as cozy as possible.

Joel paused in the doorway, warmth spreading through his chest.

Then he noticed her.

Sitting there, curled up on the couch, looking up at him with big, expectant puppy-dog eyes.

His heart damn near melted.

"Thank ya, honey," he murmured, voice all soft .

Ellie beamed, looking so proud of herself. And just to seal the deal, he leaned down and pressed warm kiss to the top of her head.

God, this kid. Whatever he did to deserve someone like her… he didn’t know. But he sure as hell wasn’t gonna take it for granted.

With a small grunt, he settled onto the couch, sinking into the warmth she’d set up for him.

"So," he drawled, getting comfortable. "What’re we watchin’?"

Chapter Text

A loud, gut-wrenching cough jolted her awake.

Ellie shot up immediately.

Joel.

His door was wide open, but the lights downstairs were on. Her heart pounded as she rushed down, each step echoing in her ears. The sound—that sound—was too familiar. It was Silver Lake all over again, when he’d been pale and wheezing, barely clinging to life.

She nearly skidded into the kitchen.

And there he was.

Hunched over the trash can, coughing so hard his entire body shook. His hands trembled, his face was red, and each rasping breath sent another shudder through him.

Fuck. Water. He needs water.

She scrambled to grab a glass, hands fumbling, but even that didn’t help. He barely managed a sip before he coughed it all back up, his body rejecting it. His chest was heaving now, the coughing so relentless it was making him gag.

Ellie froze, panic slamming into her like a freight train. She had no clue what to do—she never knew what to do, fucking useless. And Joel—Joel—his eyes were watering from the force of it all, his entire body wracked with pain.

He tried to wave her off between gasps, his voice barely there. "Eh-Eh." A pathetic attempt to reassure her. Just a nasty ass cold, kiddo. No need to panic.

But his chest hurt. His scar hurt. His stomach hurt.

Her mind raced—what else? What else could she do?

Heat.

She turned on the tap, letting the water run hot before filling a new glass. When she pressed it into his shaking hands, he took a sip, and—finally—something shifted.

It took several more sips, his body slowly unwinding from the violent tremors, but eventually, the coughing eased. He sagged against the wall, sweat dampening his hair, breath coming in ragged pulls. His hands still trembled slightly as they rested on his knees.

Ellie sank down in front of him, eyes wide with fear.

“Fuck, Joel— you—you need to go to the clinic.”

He shook his head weakly. “Ellie—”

“No, Joel, come on, that—that isn’t normal.”

“Kiddo—”

“Don’t kiddo me, Joel! You—”

But his hands found hers again, warm and shaky, pulling her focus to him.

“Look at me.”

He cupped her cheeks, and she could feel the tremor in his hands.

“Normal colds exist,” he murmured, his breath still labored. He took a guess on why she was so scared, maybe this was whatever bullshit Fedra filled her head with, whatever rules she’d grown up under that made a simple cold feel like something deadly. This had to be that right?

His voice softened. “I don’t know what they taught ya, but it’s okay. Just a normal, nasty-ass cold.”

She didn’t relax. Not fully. But her shoulders dropped just a little.

Joel smiled, brushing a thumb across her cheek before finally,

“C’mon,” he rasped. “Let’s go back to bed. You got school tomorrow.”

At that, she tensed again, her whole body going rigid.

"No fucking chance, Joel."

She shoved his hands away, and he sighed, already bracing himself.

“Ellie, what did I just say?”

“No-you’re fucking sick!”

He leaned back against the wall, exhaling through his nose. If she was reacting like this to the idea of going to school, she was gonna lose her damn mind when she heard what was next.

“Well, I’m goin’ to work.”

Her eyes went wide—furious.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME!”

“Shush shushhh, Ellie, neighbors are sleepin’,” he whispered harshly.

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE!” She flailed her hands around, like the sheer ridiculousness of what he just said was too much for her body to contain. “You are sick as hell, Joel!”

“Alright, alright, settle down,” he tried, voice steady. “They just need me to lay out the plans tomorrow, then I’m comin’ straight home, okay? Tommy—”

She opened her mouth, ready to rip into him, but he cut her off before she could get a word out.

“Tommy already asked for some time off for me. But they need me to oversee the plans here and there.”

Again, she started to argue. Again, he didn’t let her.

“I ain’t even goin’ on patrol this week, not ‘til this cough settles down.”

She narrowed her eyes, still pissed.

“Fuck it.”

Ellie shot up from the floor, jaw clenched, every part of her coiled tight with frustration. Joel scrambled to his feet, reaching for her.

“Ellie, c’mon—”

“No. No. I’m talkin’ to the freakin wall here!”

His voice softened, trying to calm the storm brewing inside her.

“Ellie, honey, it’s just a few hours, then I’ll be home.”

Ellie’s fists clenched at her sides, frustration bubbling up inside her.
Why wouldn’t he just listen? Just because she was a kid didn’t mean she didn’t know what was best for him. If he wanted to be stubborn, fine. She could be just as bad.

“Do whatever you want. I’m going to sleep.”

“Now, come on, Ellie—”

But she was already spinning on her heel.

”Goodnight!” she snapped over her shoulder, stomping up the stairs before he could say another word.

Joel sighed, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

What the hell had just happened?

He had no clue why this kid was giving him such a hard time—but damn, was he too exhausted to fight her on it tonight. They could hash it out in the morning, when she wasn’t wound up and he wasn’t dead on his feet.

For now, all he needed was sleep.

On the couch.

With his warm bottle.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Morning light came too soon, burning against his tired eyes. His throat felt like sandpaper, raw and dry, and for a moment, he just lay there, waiting for his body to catch up.

Then, he noticed it—something warm, something small, wrapped around his hand.

Joel cracked one eye open, and sure enough, there she was.

Ellie.

Curled up in her sleeping bag right next to the couch, her fingers still clutching his.

“You little shit,” he whispered, a soft, fond smile tugging at his lips. He lifted her hand gently, pressing a feather-light kiss to her knuckles before brushing the messy strands of hair from her face.

God, this kid.

With a low groan, he slowly pushed himself upright, every joint protesting the movement. Stupidly, he felt guilty. Guilty for being sick, for making her worry, when that was supposed to be his job.

As soon as he moved, Ellie shot up, instantly alert, her eyes wide with concern.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head as he let go of her hand. "Calm down, kiddo."

Her face flushed red, and she immediately looked away, mumbling something under her breath.

—------------------------------------------------------------

The morning was… weird.

Ellie wasn’t talking much, mostly pushing her food around her plate, still caught somewhere between frustration and embarrassment. And Joel? Well, Joel was just tired.

Didn’t stop him from making breakfast, though.

Even sick as hell, he somehow managed to whip up something warm and nutritious, setting down plates of eggs and toast like it was any other morning. But Ellie could barely get a bite in.

Her gut felt wrong.

Like something bad was creeping around the corner, waiting to happen.

Joel, on the other hand, was doing his best to act normal. Like he wasn’t constantly coughing into his elbow, like she couldn’t see the strain on his face every time his chest shook with the effort.

“Alright, kiddo, let’s get changed. I’ll walk ya to school.”

Ellie barely nodded, still biting the inside of her cheek. He was not supposed to be going out in the cold today. Not when he sounded like that.

She opened her mouth to argue—again—but the look he gave her shut it down before she could even start.

Frustrated, she huffed and pushed back from the table, stomping off to grab her bag. Fine.

But this wasn’t over. Not even close.

—-------------------------------------------------
The walk to school was slow.

Joel tried to keep up his usual pace, but the cold air hit hard, cutting through his lungs like a knife. Every few steps, a cough ripped through him, sharp and relentless, rattling his chest enough that he found himself rubbing at the sore spot over his ribs.

Alright, maybe Ellie had a point. Maybe going to work was stupid.

But he was already out here, already dressed, already in it. And they needed him.

Ellie walked beside him, arms crossed tight over her chest, watching him with an expression that was equal parts annoyance and worry. He decided to focus on the annoyance—that was better than fear. He’d call it progress.

When they got to the school, Tommy was already there, leaning casually against the fence, hands in his pockets. That was weird. He never waited for them here.

The moment they got closer, Tommy grimaced at the sound of Joel’s coughing, eyes scanning over him with clear concern. Joel shook his head—don’t start. Tommy masked his reaction immediately, switching into that easygoing drawl of his.

“Howdy there.”

“Howdy, Tommy.”

Ellie, however, did not answer.

Tommy cleared his throat, trying to keep things light. “Ellie, you excited?”

Joel frowned, confused. Excited for what? Ellie immediately shot Tommy a look.

“For what?” Joel asked.

Ellie let out a groan, dragging a hand down her face. Tommy stiffened like he’d just realized he’d stepped on a landmine. “Eh, I dunno—somethin’ about lessons? History? And—”

“Oh my God, I can’t watch this,” Ellie muttered, turning away in exaggerated disgust. “We have rotations today. Stable duty. And guess what? Tommy is the teacher.”

Joel blinked.

His heart clenched as it all clicked into place.

Ellie hadn’t told him— because she was too busy worrying about him.

How excited had she been for this? How long had she been waiting for her first proper stable duty, the one thing she loved more than anything? And instead of telling him, instead of waking up buzzing about it like she probably would have… she’d spent the whole time watching him like he was about to drop dead.

His stomach twisted.

What a useless parent he was, once again.

Tommy must’ve caught onto the storm brewing in Joel’s head, because he quickly clapped his hands together. “Alrighty, Roe, get inside, ya little rascal. Can’t be late.”

Ellie didn’t move. Her eyes were still on Joel, brows furrowed in concern.

Joel softened.

Without thinking, he reached out and cupped the back of her head, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “Good luck today, kiddo.”

She melted into it, just for a second.

And then the guilt hit.

She really should’ve told him. She didn’t mean to keep it from him, it just… slipped her mind. That’s all.

Jackson could give her the world. It could give her horses, a home, a future. But without Joel?
It all meant nothing.

How could she be excited for stable duty if Joel was sick at home?

Jackson was Jackson because Joel was in it.

Chapter Text

Tommy and Joel stood quietly as Ellie walked inside, her eyes flicking back one last time, filled with worry.

Joel’s gaze lingered, following her until she disappeared from view.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably beside him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. I need to learn when to shut my mouth.”

Joel didn’t respond right away, his eyes still fixed on the empty space where Ellie had been.

“She didn’t even mention it…” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “Not a single word.”

He knew it was small—just a tiny detail in the scheme of things—but somehow, it felt like another mark against him. Another failure in taking care of her.

Tommy sighed, his voice gentle. “Joel, come on. She just forgot. That’s all.”

Joel nodded stiffly, jaw clenched as he tried to let it go. “Yeah.”

He was about to wish Tommy luck with the day’s duties when another brutal cough tore through him.

Dry and sharp, the kind that left his throat raw and aching. He hunched over slightly, to lighten the ache in his stomach, bracing himself, and felt Tommy’s firm grip settle on his shoulder, steadying him.

“Easy now,” Tommy murmured, concern etched into every line of his face.

Joel tried to straighten up, to pull in a full breath, but another wave of coughing cut him off, leaving him breathless and sweating.

By the time it settled, his chest burned, and his throat felt scraped raw. Not as bad as the night had been, but still enough to leave him rattled.

“Joel, you should really take it easy. A cough like that doesn’t just go away on its own.”

Tommy’s voice was firm, but Joel just waved him off, batting at his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

A flicker of hurt passed over Tommy’s face before he masked it. He hated this part of his brother—the way Joel brushed everything off, the way he made everyone assume he was fine, just peachy. But he wasn’t, was he?

Joel looked exhausted, his voice was rough, and that cough wasn’t letting up. Why was it so damn hard for him to accept that people worrying about him was love, not pity?

Tommy sighed but let it go. “Alright, I’m gonna prep the stables. If I get the chance , I’ll swing by later to check on the plans—see if you can teach me a thing or two.”

He bumped Joel’s shoulder, and finally, that got a smile out of him.

“Good luck.”

Tommy grinned, giving him a lazy salute before turning away.

He took two steps before Joel called out to him again.

“Hey, Tommy!” His voice came out rough and scratchy, and he cleared his throat, wincing.

Tommy turned back, expecting him to have forgotten something.

Joel met his gaze, his expression softer now. “You’ll do great.”

For a split second, Tommy just stared, then quickly turned away, but not before Joel caught the blush creeping up his face.

“Thanks, Joel.”

Joel chuckled to himself as he watched his brother hurry off, shaking his head.

Alright. Time to get to work. But as he started walking his annoying mind started the thoughts again…

He couldn’t help it—his mind was a scrambled mess of guilt.

You take up too much space.

Too much space for her to express anything. If it wasn’t for his sick ass, she would’ve had the chance to talk, to be excited about her day. Instead, she’d been ready to skip school just to make sure he was okay.

Another coughing fit hit him, sharp and relentless. He pressed a handkerchief to his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as he forced himself to breathe through it. His chest ached something fierce, but he pushed forward.

As he got closer to the construction site, a few of his crew spotted him and grinned.

“Holy shit, boss! We heard you coming from miles away.”

One of them clapped him on the shoulder, and Joel huffed out a tired chuckle.
“Son how many times did I tell you to call me Joel, just Joel”

“No can do boss, we got the blueprints laid out for ya, sorry to call you in while taking a sick day”
It endeared him how sweet these men were “Lets just make it quick” they nodded and got him up to speed as they walked him towards the cabin.

And as Joel feared, the plans were more work than he’d hoped. What should’ve been a quick rundown turned into hours of adjustments, troubleshooting, and problem-solving. The materials they had weren’t exactly top-tier—Jackson made do with what it could salvage—but that meant extra reinforcement was needed, and careful planning to ensure nothing collapsed in a few months.

“See here?” Joel pointed at the sketch spread out on the table, tracing a calloused finger over the lines. “This support beam’s too weak if we’re usin’ the old lumber from the barn teardown. Gonna need to double up on bracing here, or that roof’s comin’ down the second we get a heavy snow.”

One of the younger guys, a kid barely in his twenties, scratched the back of his neck. “Damn. Didn’t think about that. What if we use the scrap metal from the east wall instead?”

Joel nodded, considering it. “That’s a thought, but metal expands in the heat, contracts in the cold. Wood’s got more give. Best bet? Use both—layer the metal for extra support but let the wood take most of the load. That way it won’t snap under pressure.”

A few of the men exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.

“Damn, Joel, you sure you weren’t some kinda engineer before all this?” one of them chuckled.

Joel huffed, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Just a contractor, son. But I did my time learnin’ what works and what don’t.”

They listened—really listened—when he spoke, and hell, it felt good. Even with the cough wrecking his ribs, even with the exhaustion weighing down his limbs, he pushed through. He was good at this. He knew what he was doing.

But goddamn, was he tired.

He felt the coughing fit before it even hit, a deep, burning itch clawing at his throat. He turned away from the group, muffling the violent coughs into his elbow, shoulders shaking with the effort. His stomach clenched with each rough exhale, pain searing through his gut. Shit. That one was worse than before.

“You alright, boss?” someone asked, hesitant.

Joel held up a hand, nodding as he tried to catch his breath. “Yeah, yeah—just need a sec.”

The fit wasn’t stopping, though. He needed air, needed to get out. Without another word, he pushed open the door and stepped outside, bracing himself against the wooden railing of the porch. He coughed until his stomach cramped, until his vision blurred at the edges, until he was lightheaded from the effort.

The door creaked behind him. He barely had time to straighten before one of the younger guys stepped out, holding out a water bottle.

“Here, boss. It’s warm. Tea.” The kid’s voice was quiet, a little hesitant, but kind.

Joel blinked at him, caught off guard by the gesture. He took the bottle with a small nod, fingers curling around the warmth.

“Thank you, son,” he said, voice rougher than he’d like.

The kid just smiled and nodded before heading back inside. Joel took a slow sip, letting the warmth soothe his throat before glancing at the sky.

As he went back he caught a glimpse of the time.

Shit.

4 PM.

Ellie had been out of school for an hour.

He was gonna get his ass handed to him.

One of the men—Mike, a guy his age—stepped forward, concern etched into his features. "Boss, I think we can handle it from here. With all due respect, you look like shit."

Joel let out a low chuckle at the phrasing, but before he could argue, Mike offered a small, knowing smile. "Go home, rest up. We'll come by if we need any help." He glanced back at the murmurs circling the table, rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually... I think we will definitely need your help. And we need ya rested, man."

Joel sighed, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him like a lead blanket, he appreciated it more than he could say, he had a hard time leaving things. He could've slept right there on the damn floor if they'd let him. That was how wrung out he felt.

"Alright," he relented, voice rough with fatigue. "Take it easy."

"We will, man."

Joel turned towards the rest of the group, who had now shifted their focus to him. He dipped his head slightly. "Have a good evening, gentlemen."

"You too, boss."

With that, he stepped outside, the bitter night air hitting his overheated skin like a slap. He smiled to himself, but it didn't last long. That smile was quickly swallowed by the sheer, crushing exhaustion that washed over him the moment he was alone. He had been running on fumes for hours—since ten in the damn morning. And now, the second he let himself stop, his body made it known just how badly it was suffering.

And shit, he was not looking forward to the earful waiting for him at home. He already knew how it would go. The second he walked in, he’d be met with a storm of worry and frustration. And he couldn't even blame them for it. Every time he stepped into work, he lost track of time. Every damn time.

His walk home was slow, deliberate. A coughing fit overtook him, bracing a hand against his chest.

By the time he reached the house, vertigo had its claws in him. Even the three small steps up to the porch seemed like a mountain. He gripped the railing, steadying himself with a sharp inhale before pushing forward.

The moment he stepped inside, warmth wrapped around him, but it did nothing to chase away the chills raking down his spine.

Then, a voice—loud, sharp, laced with both worry and irritation—rang out from within.

"JOEL?!"

He squeezed his eyes shut for just a second, bracing himself.

"Ye-ah," he rasped, his voice cracking under the weight of exhaustion. He barely had the energy to kick off his boots, one hand gripping the wall just to keep himself upright as the dizziness swelled.

Yeah. He was in for it now.

"WHERE IN THE FICKING FUCKING HELL WERE YOU?!"

Ellie stormed in, her feet slamming against the floor with each furious step. Tommy was right behind her, quieter but just as tense. They both skidded to a stop the moment their eyes landed on him.

Ah, Tommy had gotten her, that’s why she didn’t come to the construction site... But before Joel could even think of a response, another dizzy spell slammed into him, tilting the world sideways. A brutal coughing fit tore through his chest, forcing him to lean harder against the wall, fingers grasping at nothing.

"Shit, shit—Joel, come on, let’s get to the couch," Ellie said, her voice sharp. She grabbed his hand, and he didn’t fight her, letting her guide him toward the couch as he struggled to breathe through the coughing. His whole body shook with it, rattling him down to the bone.

Tommy was already moving, quick strides taking him straight to the kitchen. The sound of cupboards opening, water running, and the faint clatter of a teapot being set on the stove filled the background.

As Joel collapsed onto the couch, a small, palm pressed against his forehead. Too warm.

"Fucking shit, man," Ellie muttered, shaking her head. "I told you—I fucking told you. And now look at you. You look even more like shit." Her voice was still edged with irritation, but underneath it, he could hear the worry.

The coughing finally let up, leaving him drained and barely able to keep his eyes open. He blinked at her, exhaustion weighing him down like cement.

"I—m sorry, kiddo," he rasped.

Her face softened in an instant, her anger crumbling away like wet paper.

"Okay, okay," she mumbled, voice quieter now. "Just fucking rest."

Joel gave her the slightest nod.

"We got dinner from the dining hall," she added, as if that might make him feel better somehow.

Joel took a deep breath, exhaling slow. "Good… job," he murmured, voice trailing off.

His eyes fluttered shut.

Ellie swallowed hard, her throat tightening. She could feel the sting creeping up behind her eyes, the way her vision blurred slightly at the edges.

Fuck.

"Joel?" she called softly, shaking his shoulders just enough to get a reaction.

His hand shot up towards her cheek, he always did that if she woke him up.

"I’m… just… tired," he mumbled, barely audible.

Fuck you for still trying to comfort me, Ellie thought bitterly, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

"I know," she whispered. "I know. Just lie down—it’ll feel better."

He didn’t resist as she helped ease him down, shifting his weight so he could rest properly. She grabbed the nearest blanket and pulled it over him, tucking it in carefully.

Tommy rushed in with the cup of tea, steam curling from the surface as he moved toward them.

"He's asleep," Ellie mumbled, barely above a whisper. She had settled herself down on the floor next to the couch, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Tommy hesitated for only a second before handing the cup to her instead. "Here," he said, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I'll get myself one too."

She took it, fingers curling around the warmth, but she didn’t drink. Just held it.

Two minutes later, Tommy was back, his own cup in hand as he sank down beside her with a tired sigh. The house was quiet now, save for the faint whistle of wind outside and Joel’s slow, steady breathing.

"Stop worrying," Tommy said, cocking his head to catch her attention.

Ellie’s grip on the cup tightened. Her eyes were glassy, barely holding back the emotion sitting heavy in her chest. She set the tea down on the floor, shaking her head.

"I don’t like seeing him like this," Ellie admitted, her voice strained as she sat beside Joel, looking at his pale face.

Tommy exhaled slowly, his smile fading into something more melancholic. "Me neither," he whispered, eyes glued to his brother.

It made her heart ache, and frustration boiled in her chest. Why was this stubborn-ass like this? Why did Joel never listen?

"Why the fucking hell would he stay for so long if he was this tired? It isn’t like Jackson’s gonna stop functioning if he doesn’t go." She crossed her arms over her chest, the heat of her anger mixing with the cold of concern.

Tommy chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Actually, kinda disagree, kid."

Ellie shot him a look. "What?"

"Well," Tommy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking down at Joel as he slouched tiredly on the couch. "We don’t exactly have contractors coming out of our sleeves? We had a guy but he died a few years ago, since then I’ve been taking the lead on projects but hell, it's hard."

Ellie blinked, confused. "Wait… didn’t you say you worked with Joel before the outbreak?" she asked, a frown tugging at her brows.

Tommy sighed, rubbing his neck, a bit embarrassed . "I did, I'm good at it but Joel..." Tommy rubbed his face.

"Joels excells at this kind of stuff," Tommy continued, his voice quieter, "we’ve been having issues with building sturdiness here for a long time. Jackson's… it’s not exactly rolling in the best construction materials."

Ellie nodded, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding.

"And by the way," Tommy added with a small, nostalgic smile, "he can really get lost in things when he enjoys it."

Ellie smirked, the corners of her lips turning upward at the thought. Oh, she knew. Hell, she’d seen it a million times before—Joel strumming away at his guitar for hours, his hands working on carving wood or making little cabinets for the house. When he found something to focus on, everything else faded away.

"Yeah, I know," she said softly, the warmth creeping into her voice.

Chapter Text

Ellie watched Tommy finish the last sip of his tea before he stood, stretching a little as he grabbed his coat.

“I’ll come back later, see how he’s doing,” he said, his voice softer now. There was that look again—those damn puppy eyes, like he thought she was gonna fall apart if left alone with Joel like this.

Ellie straightened her back, meeting his gaze with confidence. "We’re gonna be okay," she said, like it was a fact. Like saying it out loud made it true.

Tommy studied her for a second, then nodded. "I know you will."

With that, he gave her one last squeeze on the shoulder before heading out, leaving Ellie alone in the quiet house.

She turned back toward the couch where Joel was still sleeping, his face slack with exhaustion. Every now and then, a rough cough shook his chest, but it didn’t wake him—just made him groan a little in discomfort before settling again. He looked... okay-ish. She gently touched his forehead, No fever, no weird shivering, nothing scary. Just tired.

Still, her heart clenched at the sight of him. He looked small like this, too damn pale, his body curled up a little under the blanket like the weight of the world had finally pressed him down just enough to stay still.

Ellie exhaled, rubbing at her arms as she stepped away.

Now what?

She glanced at the clock—17:30.

She could eat, but it didn’t feel right without Joel awake. It felt wrong to sit at the table while he was curled up on the couch, drained and sick.

Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. Maybe she could at least make things feel ready for when he woke up.

She walked into the kitchen, deciding she’d warm up the food she got from the dining hall—some kind of chicken and vegetable thing. She figured that might help Joel get some energy back. Protein. Vitamins. The kind of shit he was always nagging her to eat.

She snorted to herself at the thought, rolling her eyes.

As she pulled out the food and set things up, her mind wandered back to earlier.

The anger. The fury she’d felt when she first got home and Joel wasn’t there.

Her ears had been ringing, her hands shaking as she stomped around the house, looking for some sign of him. Tommy had walked her home, which was already a red flag on it’s own, but he had bullshitted her, saying Joel was asleep. Then he was talking in that calm, stupid voice of his, trying to reason with her, making up some weak-ass excuse about why Joel wasn’t home yet.

She didn’t even remember what he’d said. Didn’t matter.

She’d been pissed.

But now, standing here, stirring the food as it slowly warmed up, all of that anger had drained away, leaving something heavier in its place.

She just wanted him to be okay.

That’s all.

She let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding and glanced over her shoulder, back toward the couch, back toward Joel.

He was still sleeping.

Ellie set the food on the stove, letting it warm slowly as she moved around the living room, tidying up the table. If Joel thought he was gonna be doing anything other than sitting his stubborn ass on that couch for the rest of the night, he had another thing coming.

She wiped her hands on her jeans, taking one last glance around—yeah, that was better.

Then, from the living room, she heard it.

A harsh, wracking cough, deep and dry and painful.

Her head snapped up, eyes widening. She grabbed the warm tea that had been sitting on the candle to keep hot and bolted towards him.

Joel was hunched over, bracing himself against the couch, coughing into his elbow so hard it sounded like it was rattling his ribs. His whole body shook with the force of it, and fuck—he was wheezing for air.

Ellie barely set the tea down before moving toward him, ready to kneel at his side, but before she could, he put up a shaky hand, stopping her.

She froze, fists clenched at her sides, watching helplessly as he fought to catch his breath.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the fit eased, and he slumped back against the couch with a wince, one hand rubbing at his chest. His face was twisted in discomfort, but still, he cracked one eye open, peeking at her through the exhaustion.

His voice was hoarse, barely more than a rasp.

“Ellie, stay—” He coughed again, clearing his throat. “Stay away. I don’t want you catching this.”

“With the amount of fucking vitamins you’ve been feeding me I doubt it man,” she muttered, shaking her head as she turned back toward the kitchen. “Dinner’s gonna be ready soon, get up, and drink that tea.”

He was gonna sit his ass up, eat, and get better. That was it.

Then, the front door opened.

She frowned, looking toward the entrance.

Tommy? Back already?

“Joel?!” his voice was full of warmth as he saw Joel awake. “You up? How you doin’, brother?”

Joel let out a rough breath, immediately putting up a hand.

“Stay the fuck away—” He took another breath. “Don’t want you catching this.”

Tommy just chuckled, shaking his head as he walked further inside.

“Joel, please, don’t be dramatic.” He waved a small bottle in the air. “Brought you some painkillers, figured they might help you get through the night.”

Tommy shuffled toward the couch, closing the gap between them—

And out of nowhere, a gun appeared in Joel’s hand, aimed dead center at his chest.

Ellie, watching from the kitchen doorway, smirked.

Tommy? He barely flinched. He just sighed dramatically, crossing his arms like this was just another Tuesday.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, voice thick with mock exasperation. “What, you gonna shoot me now?”

Joel’s grip on the gun didn’t waver. His face, pale and drawn from exhaustion, was locked in that classic, no-bullshit, big brother glare.

Ellie knew that look. Tommy definitely knew that look.

Still, Tommy wasn’t about to back down just yet. He tilted his head, clearly entertained. “Oh c’mon, man. That thing’s not even loaded.”

Joel clicked his tongue, gaze narrowing.

Tommy hesitated. “… Right?”

Then—click.

Joel cocked the gun, slow and deliberate, and Tommy straightened up real fast.

“You wanna try me, boy?” Joel’s voice was pure gravel, a quiet, lethal promise.

And that was when Tommy’s hands immediately went up, a grin breaking through despite himself.

“A’right, a’right, fuck, I get it,” he said, finally backing up, though there was nothing but fondness in his voice. “Still bossy as ever.”

He turned to Ellie, throwing his hands in the air. “You see this shit? You see what I gotta deal with?”

Joel didn’t budge.

“You gonna get your ass home,” he muttered, “or you need me to escort you?”

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Geez, man, fine.” He made his way toward the door, taking his sweet time—

And just as he reached it, up went the gun again.

Tommy barely glanced back before speeding up. “Alright, alright! I get it, I’m gone!”

Joel finally lowered the gun, exhaustion settling back into his bones.

Ellie chuckled to herself, she loved seeing them mess with each other

Joel, exhaustion and all, smirked in victory.

“You’re reallyyy enjoying this,” she snorted..

Joel just leaned his head back against the couch with a sigh, clicking the empty gun toward the ceiling before setting it down beside him.

“It’s fun, and his stupid ass can’t get Maria sick, she-she’s tired as it is.”

She rolled her eyes lovingly.

But that brief moment of lightness didn’t last. As soon as Tommy was gone, another wave of dizziness crashed over him. He let out a slow breath, knuckling his forehead, clenching his eyes shut against the spinning.

Ellie’s laughter died down.

She watched him quietly for a second before moving toward the kitchen, coming back with two plates in her hands.

“Come on,” she said softly, holding one out to him. “Let’s eat.”

She made to sit beside him on the couch, but before she could, his hand came up in protest.

“Kiddo…” He took another breath, already winded. “I really don’t want you—” another breath, rough and labored “—gettin’ sick.”

Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, hard.

As if she needed more reasons for her insane anxiety over him fucking dying.

“Okay, okay, I’ll sit on the fucking ground, just sit up,” Ellie huffed, already lowering herself onto the floor beside the couch.

Joel swallowed, bracing himself as he pushed up, but motherfucker—his head was spinning, worse than before. Before he could stop himself, his body tilted too far toward the edge of the couch.

“Shit—Joel!”

Ellie scrambled to steady him, hands gripping his arm as she stopped him from faceplanting onto the floor.

He let out a heavy, miserable breath. “M’sorry... sorry,” he mumbled, voice rough and wrecked.

Ellie sighed, irritation flaring under her worry. “Dude, did you even eat anything today?”

Joel blinked at her, eyes guilty as sin.

“…No,” he rasped.

She clicked her tongue sharply, eyes burning with frustration.

“You dick! You’d lose your mind if you were in my place right now,” she snapped, adjusting the blanket around him as he leaned back against the couch, still looking like absolute shit.

She grabbed the plate, holding it in front of him, eyes narrowing.

“If you don’t eat every single bit, I will feed it to you like a fucking baby, capiche?”

Joel chuckled, raspy but amused.

She was so adorable when she got bossy.

Joel ate, though he could barely taste anything. Every bite felt like chewing cardboard, but at least it settled in his stomach, giving him the faintest bit of strength. He set the empty plate down.

Ellie watched him carefully, feeling that stupid swell of pride at the sight of the clean plate.

Then Joel stirred.

And—to her absolute annoyance—he was moving like he was about to get up.

“What in the ever-loving fuck are you trying to do, Joel?” she snapped, hands on his shoulders, eyes sharp.

Joel blinked at her, looking way too much like Tommy when he pulled that kicked-puppy expression. It was almost funny, how alike they were. Yeah, yeah, they were brothers, but still…

“Dishes?” he muttered, like that was a normal thing to do when he looked half-dead on the couch.

Ellie huffed and straightened up. “Sit the fuck down and choose a movie. A nice one.”

“I… Ellie—”

“No, no, Joel. Come on. Don’t be a hardass.” Her voice softened, just a little. She wanted to take care of him. She needed to. But he was making it almighty hard.

Joel exhaled, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue anymore. “Okay—okay,” he grumbled, slumping back against the couch.

Satisfied, Ellie grabbed the dishes and headed toward the kitchen. She scrubbed at the plates, lost in stupid thoughts—worry, frustration, fondness—when a sudden knock at the door startled her.

Her head snapped up.

“I’ll get it!” she called, wiping her hands on her pants before rushing over.

Her gut twisted slightly. Tommy never knocked, and they weren’t expecting anyone, so—who the hell was this?

Joel had turned his head toward the door, guard up, watching her closely—just in case.

She opened it.

A man stood there, older, maybe Joel’s age, with kind eyes and a small bag in his hands.

“Hi there,” he said with a polite smile. “You must be Ellie.”

Ellie’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Uh, hi?” she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m Mike. I work with your dad.”

Ellie’s heart did the weird thing, the weird thing it always did when they called him her dad, it was a good weird thing. She wasn’t gonna correct him, nah, no need.

But also the fucking audacity of work people showing up,

“He’s sick,” she said defensively, crossing her arms. “He can’t work.”

Mike’s face softened with guilt. “No worries,” he reassured. “I’m not here for work.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly.

He shuffled a little, rubbing the back of his neck before holding out the small bag.

“I brought this—bit of ginger. It’s not much, but I hope it helps with his cough.”

Ellie blinked, caught completely off guard.

“…Oh.”

She looked down at the bag, then back up at him.

“That’s, uh—” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping the bag a little tighter. “Th-thank you.”

Mike smiled warmly. “Slice it up, put it in warm water—you can reuse it. It’s real good for coughs.”

Right on cue, a rough, chest-deep coughing fit echoed closer. Joel shuffled into view, wincing, a blanket draped over his shoulders, looking every bit as miserable as he felt.

Mike gave a small wince of his own at the sight. “Howdy, boss.”

Joel pressed a hand against his chest, trying to soothe the ache. “Hi, Mike.” His tired gaze flicked to the ginger in Ellie’s hands. He exhaled, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to.”

Mike waved him off like it was nothing. “Nah, it’s no big deal. You just get better, boss.”

Joel sighed, shaking his head again, but there was a small, tired smile on his face. “Joel,” he corrected.

Mike just laughed, completely ignoring him. “Y’all have a good night, boss.” He turned to Ellie and gave her a playful little bow. “Ellie.”

She smirked, giving him a nod. “Night.”

Joel rasped out a quiet, “Goodnight,” as the door shut.

Ellie turned to him, eyebrow raised, arms crossed. “Boss?”

Joel groaned, already exhausted by the conversation. “Ah, don’t start.” He leaned against the wall, rubbing his forehead. “I keep tellin’ ‘em to call me Joel.”

Ellie couldn’t help but smirk. She had no idea why, but this felt nice. But then she remembered.

Her smirk vanished.

"Joel, what the fuck did I tell you?!"

Joel barely had time to react before she was scolding him. “Gah, kiddo, don’t be so pissy, I—” His sentence was cut off by a deep, wracking cough that had him wincing, a hand bracing weakly against the wall.

Ellie sighed, exasperated but mostly just worried. “Okay, old man, get back to the couch.”

“Kiddo, I’m okay,” he grumbled. He booped her nose lovingly.

Her eyes went flat, her hands rubbing her face in frustration. “Fuck, man, you're *killing me* with this shit. I'm gonna move in with Tommy, at least he listens,” she said mockingly, the irritation thick in her voice.

Joel blinked, his face falling just a bit. He didn’t say anything, just turned and walked back or more accurately shuffled back to the couch.

Ellie winced. Shit. That was fucking harsh.

She swallowed hard and focused on prepping the tea, the only sound in the kitchen the quiet clinking of the mug.

In the background, she could hear Joel flipping through movies.

By the time she walked back into the living room, he was settled on the couch again, looking up at her as she set the tea down on the table in front of him. His voice was soft, in the way it made her heart swell.

"Thank you, babygirl."

And that was it. That was all it took for her throat to tighten, for her vision to blur.

Her breath hitched. She blinked hard against the sting in her eyes, but it was too late. Tears welled up.

“You d-ick,” she choked out, voice cracking.

Joel’s head snapped up, his brows furrowing in concern. “Ellie—”

“No, no, Joel, you don’t get it.” She rubbed at her eyes angrily, like she could physically force the tears back in. “I don’t—” Her voice wavered, breaking apart like glass. “You can’t fuckin’—You can’t leave me.”

Joel’s heart just about broke.

Sickness, exhaustion—forgotten. He was on his feet in an instant, wrapping her up in his arms like it was the easiest thing in the world, like it was second nature.

His voice was low, soothing, his hand warm against the back of her head.

“I won’t, baby, I won’t” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

But she only clung to him tighter, her small frame trembling against his. She sniffled, hiccuping through her tears.

And fuck, Joel just couldn’t take it.

He gently cupped her cheeks, pulling back just enough to see her face. Her arms were still wrapped tight around his torso, her big brown eyes glossy with tears, looking up at him like he was the only damn thing keeping her upright.

And maybe he was.

“Hey, hey now,” he whispered, brushing his thumbs across her damp cheeks. “I’m okay, I promise, okay? I’ll do whatever you tell me.”

Ellie sniffled again, searching his face. “Y-you promise?”

Joel smiled, pulling her back against his chest, holding her like she was something precious.

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

Joel kept her in a tight hug as he shuffled her toward the couch, letting her sit before moving to start the movie. Ellie wiped at her remaining tears, but every rough cough from Joel made her wince.

“Drink your tea,” she ordered the second he sat back down.

Joel obediently took the cup in his lap, the warmth seeping into his fingers. He took a slow sip, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. If it made her feel even a little better, he’d drink a hundred cups.

The opening music started, and Ellie perked up instantly.

“Oh fuck yeah,” she gasped, sitting up straighter. “Shrek?!”

Joel chuckled, his voice still hoarse but undeniably amused. “Well, yeah. Can’t go wrong with Shrek.”

They settled in, Ellie shifting closer to him. She lifted his blanket without hesitation, and Joel shot her a side-eye. She met it with a hard say one fucking word stare.

He sighed, shaking his head fondly, and opened his arms in surrender. She wasted no time nuzzling into his side, her small frame warm against him.

Every time she did this, he swore he could melt into a damn puddle. It never stopped being overwhelming—the fact that she trusted him like this, that she felt safe with him.

Her quiet giggles filled the room, and if he could bottle the sound, he would. He did his best to suppress his coughs, not wanting to disturb her. Sue him, but her happiness was all he ever wanted.

Not even twenty minutes in, Ellie peeked up at his cup.

“Elli—”

“I’ll be right back,” she cut him off, already bolting toward the kitchen, cup in hand.

“Careful, you’ll—”

Thud.

“Fuck!”

Joel sat up instantly. “Ellie?!”

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” Her voice rang from the kitchen, followed by hurried footsteps.

She returned, rubbing her head with one hand and holding a new bag of something in the other.

“I fucking hit my own head getting the freakin’ popcorn.”

Joel exhaled, shaking his head as a small, tired smile tugged at his lips. “You clumsy little shit.”

Ellie huffed, plopping back down beside him, grinning. “At your service.”

Joel planted another kiss on her head, and she turned all bossy again.

“Now drink your tea”.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Halfway through the movie, Joel could feel his head growing heavier, his eyelids drooping despite his best efforts to stay awake. His whole body felt like it was made of fucking lead.

And Ellie—this little shit—was making it worse in the softest way possible.

Her fingers traced over his knuckles, the same knuckles he had broken too many damn times. She was lulling him to sleep. His breathing slowed, his resistance crumbling as his head dipped against hers.

Fuck, he loved this kid. So fucking much.

His chest rattled with each breath, and Ellie felt every bit of it. It did nothing to ease her worry.

She wasn’t just rubbing his knuckles for the hell of it. She was trying to soothe him, in her own way.

She knew how much that hand bothered him. The way he clenched and unclenched it at night. How it sometimes shook too much. How he hid it from her, like she wouldn’t notice.

Her mind flashed back to earlier. "You must be Ellie."

She smiled to herself.

Joel had talked about her. Mentioned her enough that some guy she had never even met before knew her. Knew who she was to him.

She was Joel’s kid here. She had family.

Like Donkey and Shrek had found each other—she and Joel had, too.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Ellie jolted awake with a start, her heart racing as she heard a loud, violent coughing fit from across the room. Her eyes flew open, disoriented, blinking away the remnants of sleep. What and where?

Joel?

The kitchen.

Without thinking, she shot out of the couch and ran toward the source of the noise, her feet stumbling over the floor as she half-ran, half-stumbled to him.

Fuck, no, please not again.

By the time she reached the doorway, Joel was hunched over the trash can, his body wracked with coughs so severe that they were causing him to dry heave. His face was pale, beads of sweat lining his forehead as he struggled for air between each painful cough. His chest heaved with each intake, the strain visibly taxing his body. She felt her stomach twist in sympathy for him, but the worst part wasn’t just the sounds of his gagging or the fact that he had thrown up again—it was what she saw next.

His lips were pale and cracked, the corners raw from the constant coughing and dry heaving. He was shaking, too—hands trembling as he gripped the edge, but not enough to steady himself.

The coughing wouldn’t stop. He gasped for breath, but it was like his body couldn’t figure out how to calm down, forcing every bit of food he’d eaten last night out of his system.

“Joel...?” she whispered, her voice shaking. She quickly grabbed a glass of water and rushed over, doing her best not to look at the mess he was making, not wanting to make him feel worse, but his shaking hands made it harder to hold the cup steady.

"Hey, hey, I’ll hold it," she urged softly, but her heart was pounding as she tried to ignore the way her own stomach was threatening to flip over in reaction.

Ellie watched helplessly as Joel took a shaky sip of the water she handed him, his body wracked with another violent, gut-wrenching cough. This time, he couldn’t even hold it in. The water spilled out of his mouth, mixing with the coughs, and she saw him struggle to catch his breath, wheezing between each harsh exhale. His chest rattled with every attempt to breathe, and it sounded so wrong. So fucking wrong.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Joel, please,” Ellie whispered under her breath, frantic, her mind racing. “Should I—Should I get someone? Tommy? But—Maria can’t catch this, a doctor?” Her voice cracked. The worry twisted her gut as she desperately searched for some kind of solution. Where the clinics even open now? But what if she left Joel and he?

“Joel, small sips,” she said, her voice almost pleading as she held the water up to him again. Her hands were shaking.

He took another sip, but another cough racked his body, making him grimace in pain. It eased just slightly, enough for him to suck in a shaky breath. Joel’s ribs ached so much now, a dull pain stabbing every time he moved, his stomach protesting with each shallow breath. The coughs wouldn’t let up.

Ellie could see the strain in his face, the struggle to hold himself together. He was hurting so bad, and there was nothing she could do but try to make him feel a little less miserable.

“Three more sips, Joel, come on,” Ellie whispered, her voice soft but firm, just to give him something to hold onto.

He nodded weakly, taking a few small sips, barely managing to get it down, before the coughs finally started to settle, his chest still heaving but not as violently. She exhaled slowly, eyes flicking over him, her heart still pounding in her chest, she quickly wiped away two tears that slipped, so he wouldn’t see. He was still so pale, sweat lining his forehead as he closed his eyes, finally catching a break.

Joel couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood in his ears, the pounding throb in his head. His vision blurred, and his body felt heavy. His ribs were still aching, every breath shallow and strained, and he felt the gnawing shame creep up on him as Ellie wiped his mouth with a tissue, her hands gentle.

The dizziness was worse now. It was overwhelming. His belly scar felt like it was being ripped open. Too much movement always made it hurt..

Ellie, though, was a blur of movement beside him. She suddenly slipped under his arm, her strength steadying him. He blinked, disoriented, and barely registered what she was saying, her words muffled in his daze.

“Let’s get you back to the couch, Joel,” she said, her voice firm but soft with concern. He tried to stand, to move on his own, but as soon as he tried, his knee buckled under him, and he gasped in pain. His hand shot to his side, the sharp pain making him wince. He swayed, trying to right himself, but his legs weren’t cooperating.

“Couch, now,” she ordered, her voice trembling slightly.

Joel’s vision blurred again as they finally reached the couch, and he could feel his body sinking deeper into exhaustion, his bones heavy, aching. He barely had the energy to sit up as Ellie helped him settle, his back hunched and slouched.

“Stay put,” she murmured, her voice steady despite the panic. She quickly moved to the stove, setting some water to warm. His scar needed heat, a heating pad would help.

As the water heated up, she grabbed a bowl and towel, quickly filling the bowl with cold water before hurrying back to Joel. He was still hunched over on the couch, looking smaller than usual, his face pale and flushed from the coughing. She could feel her throat tighten just looking at him.

His eyes cracked open as she settled next to him, the softness in her gaze not lost on him, even in his foggy state.

"M’ sorry," he murmured hoarsely, voice thick with exhaustion.

Ellie’s heart squeezed, but she quickly wiped his head with the damp towel, wiping away the sweat. The coolness of the water seemed to help, and his breathing slowed.

“Shut up,” she whispered, her voice firm but caring as she dabbed at his forehead.

She put a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. "Lie down, Joel."

His eyes opened a bit more, a haze of confusion clouding them, but he nodded, letting her help him lie back down on the couch. The relief was almost immediate, but she could still see the signs of strain on his face. At least he understood what she said, at least he listened.

She kept the damp towel on his head, as she quickly ran to grab the heating pad. When she came back, she checked it over, making sure it wasn’t leaking before getting it to him.

Joel was now lying on his side, his eyes barely open, but he let out a small, strained breath, trying to make himself comfortable. Ellie leaned in, brushing the sticky hairs away from his forehead.

“Joel?” She whispered softly, her voice full of tenderness. He blinked up at her, barely focused but still looking at her.

“I’ll—cough...more on my back,” he whispered weakly, his voice cracking with each word. She nodded.

She gently lifted his shirt. The sight of the scar made her stomach churn—how tight the skin looked, how uncomfortable it seemed. She hated seeing it, hated how much it hurt him. She had to stitch it tightly back then, but seeing it now, it made her stomach drop.

She had to push the thoughts aside.

Quickly, she placed the heating pad on his belly, the warmth spreading through his body. He flinched, a soft hiss escaping him as the heat hit him, but then he let out a shaky breath, his body relaxing just slightly as the tension in his muscles loosened.

Ellie didn’t even think as she covered him with the blanket, the weight of it comforting, giving him a sense of warmth. But one blanket wasn’t enough.

When she had just a cold, Joel had wrapped her in multiple blankets, sweat it out he had said.

She bolted upstairs without another thought, determined to get him comfortable.

When Ellie rushed back downstairs, she found Joel looking a little more relaxed, his breathing quieter, the tension in his face easing just slightly. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding as she covered him with the blankets, her hands moving quickly but gently, trying to shield him from the chill. The blankets felt like they were finally warming him. She bit the inside of her cheek, heart heavy.

She would go to the clinic come morning. Joel needed something—anything—to help him get through this damn cold. It wasn’t life-threatening, she knew that, but it was fucking brutal. She couldn’t let him just suffer through it.

She pressed her palm to his forehead, checking his temperature again. It felt better than before, though she could still feel the lingering heat beneath her hand. A small, silent sigh escaped her lips.

Her hand slid through his hair, feeling the dampness from the sweat that clung to his scalp. She pressed a soft, careful kiss to the top of his head.

She needed him to feel how much she cared.

Chapter Text

Thankfully, Joel managed to sleep through most of the night. His coughing had still lingered, leaving his throat sore and scratchy, but it hadn’t been so bad that it woke him up. Last night had been brutal, though—he’d felt like he was choking on every breath.

As he began to stir, he felt the warmth of a hand on his forehead, none other than his Ellie. He cracked his eyes open, looking at where she is. She had fallen asleep sitting on the ground, her head resting on his shoulder and her hand still on his forehead. His heart gave that familiar, annoying clench.

She looked so small, curled up there.

He carefully shifted, trying not to wake her, and felt the lukewarm bottle resting on his stomach, where she’d placed it last night. The warmth from the bottle had faded, but it still caused him a dull ache, reminding him of how much she had done for him. Of how much she had noticed.

He gently lifted her hand off his forehead and placed a soft kiss on her palm. She didn’t stir. That was how tired she was. Poor kid had stayed up watching over him, probably waiting for the coughing to settle. The last thing he wanted was for her to be running on fumes like this.

He tried to maneuver himself without disturbing her too much.She was heavy with sleep, but he slowly got up, one hand carefully supporting her head, keeping her from waking. He lowered her back onto the couch, his heart pounding as he watched her face for signs of stirring. She shifted just slightly, but when she didn’t fully wake, he stroked her hair softly. The smile that pulled at her lips broke something inside him, and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and keep her there forever.

As he carefully laid her back down, she grabbed his wrist without opening her eyes, her grip tight.

“Joel…” her voice was soft and sluggish.

“I’m okay, baby. Go back to sleep,” he whispered gently.

She scrunched up her face, eyes still closed, as if not quite believing him. “Sure?” she murmured.

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay” and with a small sigh, she did.

Joel lingered there for a moment, just watching her, but soon his attention turned to the bowl of water and the towel. He sighed, remembering the effort she put into caring for him. He rubbed his face with the heel of his palm before making his way to the kitchen. His scar was tugging on him as he walked, giving him a slight limp, he put a hand over it, soothing the wrongly healed scar.

He could feel the ache in his throat with every breath, he needed some fucking coffee.

—------------------------------------------------------------------

Ellie’s eyes shot open, her heart pounding as she quickly took in her surroundings. Fuck, she thought, a nagging feeling told her it was late. She had planned to wake up early, get everything from the clinic and ready for Joel before he could stop her. But now? She slapped her face in frustration—she had overslept. The guilt hit her like a ton of bricks.

But before she could spiral, she heard a soft chuckle, and her head snapped toward the sound. Joel was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, holding a warm cup of tea in his lap. His eyes met hers with that familiar warmth, and despite her panic, the sight made her heart soften. She could feel her annoyance melting away just looking at him.

"What?" she said sheepishly, her voice still rough from sleep.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his lips tugging into a teasing grin. "What’s got you so stressed, kiddo?" He chuckled again, setting the cup down beside him. His voice was raspy, but there was still that tenderness in it that made her want to let everything go.

Ellie sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, feeling the warmth still radiating from the couch. She avoided his gaze for a second before muttering, "Just forgot something."

Joel observed her for a moment, the concern in his eyes making her feel guilty all over again. Then, without missing a beat, he slowly stood up.

"Let’s go eat," he said with a soft smile.

Ellie stared at him, confused for a moment, then glanced at the clock. 11:00. She shot him a look, her eyebrows furrowed. "How long have you been up?" she asked, her voice a little sharper than she meant.

Joel didn’t flinch, his smile as soft as ever. "Just a couple of hours," he replied casually. "Wanted to wait on you."

And just like that, her heart softened even more. She couldn’t help but feel this overwhelming sense of warmth spread through her. The way he said it, so simple, like it was nothing, but it meant everything.

Fuck, she thought. If that didn’t make her feel loved…He waited to eat with her.

The table was already set, fruit neatly cut up, bread waiting to be eaten.

"You want some yogurt or eggs?" Joel asked, his voice still rough.

"Yogurt," she answered without thinking. Eggs meant he had to prep them, and Joel was sick, he needed to sit the fuck down.

Joel turned around, raising an eyebrow, like he was making sure she actually wanted it. They both still had their blankets draped over their shoulders, looking extra cozy. Ellie knew exactly what he was silently asking.

"I'm sure, Joel. Just sit down," she said firmly.

"Okay, okay," he muttered, hands up in surrender as he quickly sat down, remembering his promise from the night before.

A cough ripped through him, and Ellie immediately pushed back her chair, already heading toward the living room. Grabbing his still-warm mug from where he’d left it, the blanket behind her like a superhero cape.

She set it down in front of him with a little thunk, triumphant.

Joel huffed out a soft, sheepish smile. She knew he hated being taken care of, but oh well. He was just gonna have to get used to it.

"Thank you," he said, quiet but sincere.

Joel cleared his throat, took a sip of coffee, then looked at her with that familiar gaze—full of anticipation and warmth

"Okay, so… you never told me how stable duty went?" he asked casually, coaxing her into conversation about her, like he always did.

That was another thing she was still getting used to.

Joel’s question unlocked something in Ellie, and suddenly, she was off.

She talked her head off—going on and on about the horses, how one of the guys nearly got kicked in the face because he wasn’t paying attention, and how the horses loved and nudged her.

And Joel just listened.

For an hour and a half, he didn’t interrupt, didn’t change the subject, didn’t rush her. Just sat there, sipping his coffee, nodding along, his gaze soft and steady.

Every now and then, he’d give her one of those warm, knowing smiles—the kind that made her stomach twist, like she didn’t know what to do with it.

Like she wasn’t used to someone looking at her like that.

Like she was worth listening to.

—------------------------------------------------------
It didn’t go unnoticed how Joel kept coughing, wincing every now and then like his throat was really starting to bother him. Ellie could hear it—how rough it sounded, like it was scraping him raw.

Yeah, okay. She has to go to the clinic.

“No, no, no, Joel, I’m doing the dishes,” she snapped, already standing and gathering up the plates.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Ellie, come on, I’m okay, we can do it toge—”

“You fucking promised,” she cut him off, eyes narrowed.

Joel blinked at her, then let out a tired sigh, shoulders sagging in defeat. Without another word, he turned and shuffled toward the living room, moving like some kid being sent to timeout.

Ellie had to bite back a laugh—because, geez, a grown-ass man sulking like that was kind of hilarious.

She made quick work of the dishes, ignoring the occasional cough from the other room, and when she finished, she set some water to heat up for a hot water bottle. His stomach was definitely still bothering him, this would help.

But when she walked back into the living room, bottle in hand, she paused.

Joel hadn’t shifted around like usual—no small grumbles, no restless adjusting, nothing.

He was asleep.

Ellie frowned. He never went down this easily. It unsettled her at first, made her stomach twist. But then she exhaled. Maybe this was good. Maybe his body was finally letting itself rest. Instead of being up, working through it, pushing himself too hard like a dumbass, he was sleeping.

Okay. Good.

And this? This was her chance to slip out. Get what he needed before he could wake up and put up a fight.

Chapter Text

She quickly slipped into a pair of decent pants and gathered her hair up, not because she usually cared much about how she looked, but because, in all honesty, she probably resembled a crackhead with her bedhead and rumpled pajamas—jammies, as Joel liked to call them. And as ridiculous as it was, she didn’t want to get them dirty.

As she hurried back downstairs, careful to keep quiet, a soft sound drifted from the living room. She paused, tiptoeing closer, her breath hitching slightly—then she realized. Joel was snoring.

She pressed a hand over her mouth, stifling the sudden burst of giggles bubbling up in her chest. It wasn’t loud, just a soft, steady snore, the kind that made everything feel a little safer, a little warmer. Her chest ached in the best way—because he was sleeping. Really, actually sleeping. Deep enough to snore. Deep enough to rest.

Not like on the road, when sleep barely ever touched him. When his eyelids would flicker, his body wound so tight it seemed like even in his dreams, he was ready to fight. When every little noise had him gasping awake, breath sharp, eyes searching. He still did that sometimes. A lot, actually.

But right now—right now—he wasn’t. Right now, he was just sleeping. Peaceful. Safe. Like a normal damn person. And he had no idea how much that meant to her, how happy it made her just to see him like this.

As gently as she could, she eased the door open. The moment she stepped outside, an oof escaped her lips—it was freezing. The ground was dry, the sky stretched out in a perfect, endless blue, but the air bit at her skin with an unforgiving chill. It felt like Mother Nature was toying with them, painting a picture of warmth and beauty while making sure the cold was sharp enough to sting. But at least the sky was blue.

And the town—it was alive. Bustling with energy, voices carrying through the crisp air. No school today. After stable duty yesterday, all the kids were told to rest. Overworking them wasn’t the way things were done here. It was… strange, not feeling overworked. School here wasn’t about pushing until you burned out—it was about learning, about enjoying it. About being a kid. At least for now, the adults would say. You’ll have plenty of time to be exhausted when you grow up.

That’s how Tommy had put it. They were gonna milk childhood for as long as they could.
She pulled her jacket tighter around herself and took a few steps forward—then paused. Where the fuck was the clinic again? She’d only been there with Joel, and, well, she hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the route. She’d been looking around, taking everything in, figuring she’d just follow him without worrying about the directions.
Before she could turn down the wrong path, a familiar voice called out.

“Howdy there, whatcha doin’ out here?”

She glanced up—and there was Tommy, waving at her from afar, smiling that easy, warm smile of his. He did that a lot. And honestly? It was kinda nice. Someone smiling just because they’d seen her.
"I'm gettin' Joel some herbal shit from your clinic," she said, crossing her arms against the cold.

Tommy’s brows pulled together. "He ain't better yet?"

"Nah, not really. Actually had a pretty bad night."

Tommy went quiet for a beat, and Ellie felt a wave of urgency grip her. If Joel woke up and saw her gone, he was gonna be very concerned—concerned enough to haul himself out of bed and come looking for her. And that was exactly what he shouldn’t be doing.

"Dude, clinic?" she pressed, bouncing on her heels.

Tommy blinked, like he just remembered what they were doing, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, yeah—follow me."

As they walked, he shot her a glance. "So, uh… he got a fever?"

"Nope."

“Droopy nose?”

Ellie squinted at him. Droopy nose? What the hell kind of phrasing was that?

“Nope,” she huffed. “Just a cough that sounds like it’s ripping his lungs apart.”

Tommy winced. "Shit. Alright, come on," he said, gesturing ahead. "This is the clinic."

He stepped inside with her, and she didn’t even think twice about it. Probably better to have an adult with her anyway.

One of the doctors glanced up as they walked in, a warm smile already on her face.

"Well, hello there. Tommy. And this must be your niece."

Ellie blinked, momentarily caught off guard, and the doctor’s warm smile only deepened.

"Tommy here talks a lot about you and your dad."

Her gaze immediately snapped to Tommy, eyes narrowing in a way that could only be read as Oh, you do, do you?

Tommy, to his credit—or maybe his misfortune—went red as a damn tomato.

"A-alrighty," he stammered, clearly trying to redirect the conversation. "We need somethin’ for a lung-rippin’ cough."

The doctor’s attention shifted to him, her expression turning serious. "Who’s sick?"

Ellie jumped in. "It’s my—" Oh, great. Now she was getting dragged into this too. She cleared her throat. "It’s my Joel." Oh yeah great save Ellie

The doctor considered that for a moment before nodding. "Gimme a sec." Then she turned and walked toward the shelves.

As soon as her back was turned, Tommy looked like he wanted to sink through the floor.

"I'm sorry," he muttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "If you want, I’ll, uh… correct ‘em."

"No, no—otherwise you might get even redder," she teased, smirking up at him. But really, she was just covering up her own surprise.

His niece.

That meant she was his family. He considered her family too.

Hell, this was more than she ever let herself wish for.

Tommy let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck again. Truth was, he’d been excited—really excited—to brag about her and Joel. He had more family now, and that meant something. But he’d never stopped to think about whether she wanted that, whether she’d be okay with it.

By the looks of it, though—by the way she was trying so damn hard to play it cool, even though he could still see that tiny, barely-contained smile—he figured she didn’t mind all that much.

Before either of them could say anything else, the doctor returned, holding a small bundle of dried herbs in her hands.

"Alright," she said, setting them down on the counter. "For that lung-ripping cough, we’ll go with a mix of thyme, and mullein. Thyme will relax his throat, and mullein helps clear mucus and calm the lungs."

She picked up another bundle and added it to the mix. "We’ve also got wild mint here—it’ll help open up his airways and make him feel a bit fresher. And a little sage, too, for its antibacterial properties."

Ellie glanced down at the assortment. "Shit, this is so cool"

The doctor chuckled. "We have a whole lot more", she observed Ellie’s wide eyes.

“Hon give me one second, I might have something for ya”, she quickly turned around while Ellie observed the herbs.

She returned with a book “Alot of information about herbs in there, some history too, I figured you might like it”. Now she got a present from a stranger “Oh my god” she whispered.

“Thank you”, Tommy grinned, well she was delightfully respectful wasn’t she.

“Your welcome, tell me if you guys need anything else”

“We’ll do doc, take care” Tommy said politely too. As Ellie turned around he couldn’t help but give her a teasing look, his gaze saying well look at you.

“What?” she chuckled “Im fucking delightful”.

Tommy, grinning now, clapped her on the shoulder. "Alright, let’s get this back to your dad."

Ellie shot him a look. "Shut up," she muttered, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. Despite the cold, the weight in her chest felt a little lighter.

Chapter Text

Joel gasped awake, his chest tightening with that awful, sinking feeling. It wasn’t new—not by a long shot—but it usually meant something. His heart thudding against his ribs as he blinked through the haze of sleep.

What time was it? When did he fall asleep? What day was it?

Fucking naps.

His eyes flicked to the clock—only twenty minutes. Twenty damn minutes since Ellie had shooed him away, told him to go rest while she washed the dishes. He’d let himself drift off to the quiet sounds of running water, clinking plates—sounds that meant home.

But now—now, it was silent.

His pulse jumped.

The kitchen. The kitchen was supposed to have sound.

He forced himself upright too fast, pain flaring deep in his belly, but he pushed through it, barely registering the ache as he hurried down the hall.

"Ellie?" His voice came rough, urgent.

No answer.

The kitchen was empty. Spotless. Too still.

His breath stuttered.

She wasn’t supposed to leave the house without telling him—not yet, not while things were still new. It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but he needed to know where she was.

Because last time—

Last time she was gone, they—

His stomach clenched.

His hand curled tight around the edge of the counter, knuckles going white.

Where the hell was she?

“Ellie?”

His voice cracked, desperate, as he stumbled up the stairs, each step jarring his already aching body. His chest heaved, the sharp, ripping coughs already coming in waves from the sudden movement. But he didn’t care. Couldn’t care.

He rushed into her room first, eyes wild as they darted around the space. Empty.

No, no, no.

He dropped to his knees, checking under the bed like a madman, as if she might be curled up in the shadows somehow. Nothing.

The bathroom. Empty. His bathroom. Empty.

His bed. Empty.

Even under his bed. Nothing.

Panic surged through him.

Where the fuck would she go?

His mind spiraled, unrelenting and merciless.

Did someone take her?

What if she left the gates?

What if she’s out there alone?

What if she never comes back?

His breath hitched violently, fingers trembling as he rushed back into his room. He grabbed the radio off the nightstand, fumbling with the damn thing like his life depended on it—because it did.

"Please, please, please," he whispered under his breath, barely audible, begging to whoever the hell might be listening. Let her be with Tommy.

Please, just let her be with Tommy.

His fingers shook harder. What was the damn frequency again? His mind, usually so sharp, felt useless now, fogged by fear.

He hurried down the stairs, too fast, too careless—

And missed the last two steps.

“Shit—!”

His foot caught awkwardly, legs tangling beneath him, and he went down hard.

A sharp pain shot through his ankle as it twisted the wrong way, and he landed harshly on his ass, the radio clattering beside him.

He blinked hard, vision blurring as he tried to sit up, every nerve in his body on fire. His ankle throbbed mercilessly, but his mind—his mind was still stuck on Ellie.

Not broken. Probably just twisted. But it didn’t matter.

He tried to push himself up, but a searing pain shot up from his lower back, sharp enough to make him gasp.

He grit his teeth, the pain making him dizzy, but he forced himself to move. He needed the damn radio. It had fallen just out of reach, and he couldn’t crawl to it—not with his back spasming like this.

So, with a shaky breath and a whispered curse, he used his good foot to nudge the radio closer, wincing with every tiny movement until—

Finally. Finally.

His fingers snatched it up, gripping it tight like it was his lifeline.

“Joel to Tommy,” he ground out through clenched teeth, voice strained and shaking as he clung to the railing, the pain radiating through his back like a fire that wouldn’t go out.

Meanwhile, Tommy and Ellie were just a few blocks away, walking side by side when the crackle of the radio broke the calm.

Ellie’s eyes went wide the second she heard Joel’s voice.

Tommy, instantly on alert, grabbed the radio without hesitation. He didn’t need to guess why Joel was calling. The radios were only for emergencies.

“Tommy to Joel,” he answered quickly, his voice steady . “Ellie’s with me, man.”

They both froze in place, waiting for the reply.

Ellie held her breath, half-expecting Joel to lose his mind. Not angry—he never really got furious with her—but that voice. That awful, quiet disappointment he always had when she did something reckless. She braced herself for it, guilt already twisting in her chest.

But instead—

“Okay,” came Joel’s weak, breathless reply. Just one word.

Soft. Strained. Relieved.

Tommy chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Your old man’s a worrier. Don’t fret it.”

She hated worrying him.

Joel gritted his teeth hard, every muscle in his body clenched against the sharp, pain shooting through his back. He had landed too hard. His ankle was already starting to swell—great job, Joel, he thought bitterly.

Another fucking thing for Ellie to worry about.

The last thing he wanted.

He needed to get back to the couch. Before they came home.

He didn’t want her to know, to feel suffocated. Trapped by his constant worrying, his stupid, fucked-up mind that couldn’t let go even in Jackson. Jackson was safe, damn it. He knew that. He knew that. But sue him for still being terrified.

She had already been through an unfair amount of hell. More than anyone should ever have to bear.

And he’d give his life—in a heartbeat—if it meant she never had to go through that again.

His chest burned as a harsh cough ripped through him, rattling his ribs and pulling a pained groan from deep in his throat. The pain in his back flared, sharp and unrelenting, almost drowning out the ache in his chest.

Serves you right, he thought bitterly.

Finally, he managed to ease himself back onto the couch, every nerve in his body on fire. He barely had time to catch his breath before the door swung open.

“Heyyy!” Tommy’s loud, cheery voice filled the room, breaking the quiet.

Ellie followed right behind him, shoulders slightly hunched, a sheepish look on her face that made Joel’s heart ache in ways he couldn’t even describe.

No. No, no, no.

That was exactly what he didn’t want her to feel.

“Joooeelll, how are you?!” Tommy’s voice boomed through the room, all exaggerated cheer and dramatics.

Had he always been this damn loud?

“Howdy,” Joel greeted, his voice low and rough, already lifting a hand to stop Tommy from coming any closer. “Ah, ah, ah—stay away.”

Tommy clicked his tongue in mock annoyance. “You’re no fun, you old fucker.”

“Bite me,” Joel muttered, sarcastically, maybe even adoringly.

His gaze softened the moment it landed on Ellie, standing quietly with a small bag in her hands.

“Hi,” she murmured, almost unsure.

“Hi.”

Joel’s voice was so soft, so painfully soft that even Tommy felt his heart squeeze in his chest. But something wasn’t right. Tommy noticed the faint sheen of sweat on Joel’s forehead, tiny beads trailing down the side of his face.

Ellie, unaware, gave a small smile. “I got you some herby hippie shit.”

Joel chuckled, but Tommy could hear how strained it was.

“Thank you, baby,” Joel whispered, and Ellie’s eyes flickered with something tender.

No stern words. No grumbles. Just... softness.

She shuffled awkwardly, no fucking clue still on how to deal with the lovely nicknames. “I’ll, uh—I’ll go prep these,” she mumbled, quickly heading back to the kitchen.

The moment she left, Joel’s facade crumbled.

Tommy saw it happen in real-time—the way Joel’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the couch, his head dipping forward as his shoulders trembled from the effort of holding himself together.

“Joel?” Tommy called softly, stepping closer, worry knitting his brows.

He could hear it—the hitch in Joel’s breathing.

Then his eyes fell to Joel’s ankle.

“Oh, what in the fuck happened?” Tommy whispered, grimacing as he took in the swelling.

“Fucking tripped,” Joel whispered. “Twisted it. Hurt my back too.”

Tommy crouched down, careful as he observed the ankle, Joel wincing at the slightest touch.

“Why the fuck were you up anyway?” Tommy asked gently, though confusion tinged his voice.

He waited. But Joel didn’t answer.

Didn’t even look at him.

Tommy’s heart ached. “Joel...”

Joel clenched his jaw, eyes dropping in shame.

“Just stupid,” he muttered.

“Joel,” Tommy pressed, voice softer now.

“I just—” He sucked in a breath, the motion setting off another harsh cough that wracked through his chest. “I was just... lookin’ for Ellie.”

“When have you ever known me to be calm?” Joel shot back, trying for a joke, though his voice was strained as Tommy carefully examined his back.
Tommy let out a low whistle. “Damn, that’s a nasty-ass bruise, man.”

Joel sighed. “Just cover it up, alright? Don’t need Ellie seein’ it.”
Tommy nodded, quick to pull Joel’s shirt back down just as Ellie came shuffling in, balancing a cup of steaming tea in her hands.

Joel forced a smile, hoping it reached his eyes. “Whatcha got there?”
“Wild mint,” she answered, her brows scrunching up in that familiar, concerned way as she glanced between him and Tommy, who was now perched on the arm of the couch. “Doc said it’ll help you feel fresh”.

Her eyes narrowed. “Eh, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel replied quickly, leaning back against the couch with a wince he tried to hide. “Just my old man back actin’ up.”
Ellie snorted, but Joel’s fingers were already tugging the blanket over his swollen ankle, as if that alone could hide the pain radiating from it. What kinda half-assed plan was this, anyway? He didn’t even have a lie ready for why the hell his ankle looked like it lost a fight with a brick wall.

Carefully—too carefully—he reached for the tea, his movements slow and deliberate.
Ellie’s brows knit tighter. “You sure you’re okay?”
Joel forced a grin, soft and warm. “My back’s just hurtin’ a little, that’s all.”

His eyes flickered to the book on the table, and he blinked, he hadn’t even noticed her carrying that in.
“What’s that?” he asked gently, a subtle shift in his voice that instantly sparked a light in Ellie’s eyes.
Tommy chuckled softly under his breath, feeling that familiar warmth spread through his chest.

Of course Joel knew exactly how to turn the conversation to somethin’ that’d make her happy. Damn man was a pro at makin’ sure nothin’ was ever about him.
Ellie’s face lit up, holding up the book like it was her proudest treasure. “The doctor gave it to me! It’s, like, this whole book about herbal stuff.”

Both Joel and Tommy chuckled.

“Joel, she’s becomin’ a damn hippie,” Tommy teased, his grin wide and playful.

Ellie gasped in offense, glaring at him like he’d just insulted her entire existence. “Hey! You’re the hippie! With that hair!”
Joel’s eyes widened in amusement, shaking his head fondly as he shot Tommy a look that could only be read as “Yup. That’s my kid.”

Tommy, never one to back down from teasin’, ran his fingers through his hair with exaggerated flair, flipping it dramatically like a model on a runway.
“Y’all have no taste,” he drawled with a smirk. “I’m fuckin’ handsome.”
—-------------------------------------------
Joel hadn’t moved from the couch, not even after Tommy left. He just sat there, still as a stone. And even though a part of her wanted to feel relieved—because at least he was staying put—something in her gut told her it wasn’t by choice. It wasn’t because he wanted to. It was because of the promise he made to her.

"Tommy's getting us dinner from the dining hall," she said, almost tentatively.
Joel gave a small nod. Just a nod. No words, no real acknowledgment beyond that. He’d been so quiet. Unusually quiet. And it made her stomach twist. Was he mad? Disappointed?

"Joel?" she tried.

"Yeah," he answered, soft as ever.
She shifted uncomfortably, fingers curling into the hem of her sleeve. He still wasn’t looking at her. That shouldn’t make her nervous, she knew that, but it did. And she hated that it did. FEDRA had done that to her—made her expect anger where there was none, made her flinch at things she didn’t need to flinch at.

"Are you—uh—angry?"

His gaze snapped to hers immediately.
"What?" His voice was rough, but not in the way she expected. Not sharp. Just… hurt.

Shit.

She shrank back, cursing herself for asking. "You're just so quiet," she mumbled, trying again.
Joel blinked, eyes searching her face, and then he exhaled a little. "S’just… my back’s botherin’ me, that’s all," he admitted, voice low. Then, gentler, "Why would you think I was angry?"
She swallowed. "I went out without telling you."

And just like that, Joel’s expression softened completely.
"Oh, baby," he murmured, already opening his arms. "C’mere."

She didn’t hesitate. She never did with him. Careful of his back, she curled into him, pressing close, feeling the warmth of him as he wrapped her up safe and sound.

His lips brushed against her hair. "I just want you to feel safe here," he whispered. "That’s all. M’just paranoid sometimes."
She looked up at him, a soft curiosity in her eyes. He was paranoid for her. "Why?"

Joel didn’t hesitate, his voice steady but full of care, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I wanna make sure you're safe. It's just easier when I can see you."
She nodded, leaning back into him, a warm smile blooming on her lips. Joel mirrored it, his hand gently rubbing her back.
—--------------------------------------
Tommy’s voice boomed again as he came back into the room, a familiar pair of footsteps following close behind him. "I’ve got food, ya’ll!" He came into the living room, balancing two bags in one arm and a stack of plates in the other, with Maria waddling beside him.

"Joel, you won’t believe it! They made Patatas bravas!" Tommy grinned, clearly proud of whatever miracle he’d just brought with him.

Joel winced as he noticed Maria, his voice dropping. "Tommy?! You wanna get her sick?"

Maria, however, waved him off with a playful roll of her eyes. "And hello to you, too, Joel. Don’t be so dramatic," she chuckled, a hint of teasing in her tone. "I’m pumped full of vitamins. Don’t underestimate me."

"At least sit far from me," Joel muttered, shooting her a tired look. Tommy, still beaming with pride, helped Maria settle down on the couch.

Maria smiled warmly as she sank into the farthest seat. "Alright, papa bear," she teased, making herself comfortable.

Tommy was practically vibrating with excitement. "Ellie, you gotta try this!"
Ellie looked confused, glancing between him and the food. "What are we excited about?"

Tommy plopped down on the floor. "Ellie, believe me, this is so freaking good. Not as good as Joel’s, I guarantee , but still—"

Joel’s face flushed a deep shade of red at the mention of his cooking, and Ellie swore she saw him shift uncomfortably. He was so shy about the little things, and it was honestly adorable.

"You give me too much credit, little brother," Joel muttered under his breath, shifting in his seat.

"Nah, Ellie, listen," Tommy persisted, his voice full of nostalgia. "We had these long-ass shifts, building this store, and we’d come home wiped out, but Joel? Joel would cook this. Me and Sarah, we’d sit there, forks ready, and he’d make it like a damn pro."

Ellie caught the flicker of pride in Tommy’s eyes, but the moment was soon punctuated by Joel’s flushed face turning an even deeper red. Tommy’s grin grew wider as he continued, "You were always so tired, but you still cooked like a motherfucking pro, Joel."

Ellie couldn’t help but smile at the scene, watching the way Joel tried to hide his embarrassment, his fingers running through his hair like he didn’t know how to handle the attention. She swore she saw him get even more red the moment Tommy finished talking. It was the sweetest, most endearing thing she’d seen in a while.
Maria noticed the red face and clapped her hands. "It’s rude to keep the pregnant lady waiting," she said , "dig in!"

Joel shot her a grateful smile, and she nodded in acknowledgment. Dinner, thankfully, was filled with warmth and laughter.
He tried his best to keep his distance, coughing into his elbow as discreetly as possible, but he couldn’t help the anxiety that spiked in his chest at the thought of getting Maria sick. They were talking about the stable day at school, about how fun it had been.

But then, the conversation turned toward the baby. Any day now, Maria said with a soft smile, her hand resting on her belly. His eyes flicked to Tommy, and there it was—the look in his eyes. The way Tommy glanced at him, as though he needed something. Reassurance.

Joel cleared his throat, his voice a little hoarse but steady. "It’ll all be okay," he said softly, "Ya’ll are gonna be amazing parents."

And when Tommy’s eyes met his, it hit Joel like a wave. He remembered little Tommy—the boy who used to look up to him for approval, the one who used to need that reassurance. The weight of the memory settled in his chest.

When had he become so sappy?

It was just age. But even his sub consious knew that was bullshit, he had always been a sappy fucker.
And he didn’t mind. Not one bit.
As they finished up dinner, Tommy clapped his hands together and stood up with a grin. "Okayyy, Ellie Bellie, let’s do the dishes."

Ellie blinked at him, eyebrows raising. Ellie Bellie?

She turned to Joel, who just shrugged with a small, knowing smile. That’s just my brother for ya.

Joel sighed, sinking a little further into the couch. He hated sitting still this much, hated the way his body ached from it. And worse, he still had to sit through another round of her lecturing him when she finds out about his incident—which, frankly, he wasn’t looking forward to.

Maria watched them for a moment, waiting until she heard the sound of plates clinking in the kitchen before she turned her attention toward the bag they’d brought in. "Joel," she called gently.

He looked up just in time for her to toss the bag his way. He caught it, brows furrowing.

"I made you some dough. Wrap it around your ankle," she said simply, nodding toward it.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, feeling heat rise to his face. "Ah, you didn’t have to."

Maria rolled her eyes. "It’s nothing, Joel. The swelling’ll go down overnight, but it’s still gonna hurt. You sure you don’t need the clinic?"

He waved her off, setting the bag in the corner like it was nothing. "Nah, had w—"

"Yeah, yeah, had worse, I know, mister tough guy," she cut in, shaking her head.

Joel let out a soft chuckle, but Maria wasn’t done. She watched him carefully, saw the way he was containing the pain, how tense he looked.

"You know, Joel," she said, voice quiet but firm, "keeping her in the dark is just gonna stress her out more. I know you don’t wanna burden her or whatever, but did it ever cross your mind that maybe she wants to take care of you? That maybe it makes her happy?"

Joel blinked at her, like the thought had never once even occurred to him.

"She’s just a kid," he said, shaking his head. "Kids ain’t supposed to—"

"Joel." Maria cut him off, her tone pointed. "That girl looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars. Love means taking care of each other."

Joel looked at her, truly looked at her, brows knitting together like she’d just said something completely foreign to him. Like he didn’t know what to do with it.

And God, Maria wanted to slap the shit out of him. Lovingly mind you.

"Joel," she said again, exasperated, "don’t tell me you don’t know."

He opened his mouth, stammering, "I—"

But before he could get a word out, Tommy and Ellie walked back in, and just like that, Joel put up that cheery wall again.
Tommy glanced at Maria, and she gave him a subtle nod. Yeah, I gave it to him.

"Alrighty, Roe, we’re heading home," Tommy announced. He pointed at Joel with a smirk. "I’m comin’ by tomorrow to see how the old fucker’s doin’."

Maria playfully smacked Tommy’s arm as he helped her up.

She turned to Joel, pointing at her husband with an exasperated look, like Can you believe this man?

Joel just mouthed a small, Thank you.

And with that, they headed out.

Ellie, without hesitation, plopped down beside Joel again, slipping right back into place next to him, and he opened his arms immediately. He could stay like that forever.

Chapter Text

After Tommy and Maria left, Ellie flopped down beside him.

She got up just long enough to put Shrek on again. She was leaning against him, her head tucked into the crook of his arm, her weight settling in like she was meant to be there.

Joel let his hand drift up to her hair, fingers threading through the strands, slow and careful. He knew this always made her sleepy—that was the point. A little trick he’d picked up. And just like that, her breathing evened out, soft and steady, her small frame sinking completely into his.

And now, he was alone.

Alone with his thoughts. And they—to put it lightly—were unkind.

She was so damn small in his arms. This kid. His kid. The light of his goddamn life. And yet, she’d been through so much. More than any kid ever should.

Maria’s words gnawed at him.

She didn’t deserve to take care of him.

She deserved to be taken care of. She deserved a life without worry, without fear. She deserved soft blankets and warm meals and safety.

He pressed a lingering kiss into her hair, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Fuck. Why was his throat tightening?

She’d been sleeping on the floor for two nights straight.

Right there, beside the couch. Just to be close. Just to be near enough to keep a hand against his forehead, like she was making sure he was still there. Because last time he almost wasn’t…

Joel inhaled sharply, tipping his head back against the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling to keep the damn tears at bay.

"I love you, kiddo," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, pressing another kiss into her hair. "I love you so much."

His breath hitched. Ah, hell. He could feel it—another coughing fit, winding up deep in his chest, rattling his ribs.

And Ellie—she was sleeping in a way that meant she’d wake instantly if he so much as twitched wrong.

She had school in the morning.

He wasn’t gonna keep her up again. Not again.

As gently as he could, he eased her down onto the cushions, cradling her head for just a second longer before letting go. She barely stirred this time, curling instinctively under the blanket that had been on his lap, like she could still feel his warmth there.

He let out a breath, one shaky hand tucking the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She looked so small like this. So peaceful. So damn deserving of peace.

But he didn’t have time to sit there and dwell, because that cough was still clawing up his throat, and he had to get away before it woke her.

In his rush, he forgot.

The second he stood, white-hot pain lanced through his ankle, shooting straight up his leg, locking up his lower back. His feet had fallen asleep, numb pins and needles twisting with pain, and his knee nearly buckled under him.

Shit.

Joel stumbled forward, gritting his teeth, pushing through it because he had to—had to—get upstairs, as far from her as he could. The bathroom. He could make it to the bathroom.

One step at a time.

He grabbed the railing hard, fingers wrapping tight around the wood as he hauled himself up, his breath coming too shallow, too fast. He forced himself to quiet the limp, even as sweat pricked at his brow, even as his body screamed at him to just sit the hell down.

The cough was building, rattling deep in his chest, curling into tight groans that he tried to swallow down.
Just a little further.

By the time he finally made it to his room, his leg gave out. He barely managed to sink to his knees quietly, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound.

Damn it.

He couldn’t even stand on his own two feet.

With a frustrated, shuddering breath, he dragged himself forward, hands gripping the floor as he crawled the rest of the way to the bathroom. Damn his legs. Damn his back. Damn his useless body.

The second he shut the door behind him, he let go.

The cough tore through him like it had been waiting for permission, relentless and unforgiving. He braced himself against the wall, coughing so hard his whole chest ached, muscles clenching. His stomach twisted from the force of it.

Water.

He needed water.

His hand shot out, gripping the sink as he tried to haul himself up, but another deep, ragged cough wracked through him.

Why the hell did these things always hit at night? When his kid needed rest?

It wasn’t dry anymore.

This was wet, thick, something in his lungs sticking, catching, suffocating. The taste of iron bloomed in his throat, and when he spat into the sink, his stomach dropped.

Specks of red.

Not a lot. But there.

Joel gripped the edge of the sink harder. His whole body was trembling, his arms screaming with effort as he tried—struggled—to cup some water into his hands. And even that felt impossible.

Good job, Joel.

Took damn near everything just to get a few swallows down. And even then, it wasn’t enough. His hands were shaking too bad, his body done with this shit, and he could barely keep himself upright anymore.

So he gave in.

He sank back down onto the cold tile, head resting against the walls.

Should’ve sent the poor kid to Tommy’s the moment he got sick.

His eyelids felt heavy, too heavy, the exhaustion settling in deep.

Just for a second.

Just a little shut-eye. That’s all he needed.

—------------------------------------------
“Joel?!”
The voice cut through the haze, sharp and urgent—half whisper, half panicked yell. He woke with a sharp gasp.

Disorientation hit him first.

The ache in his neck and back hit second.

And holy fuck—he was cold.

Everything felt sluggish, heavy. His body was stiff and the tile beneath him was freezing. The dim light in the bathroom made everything blur together, and then—

A shadow in front of him. A figure crouching down.
“Joel, what the fuck, man?”

The voice whisper-yelled at him, sharp with frustration but laced with something else—something worried.
“You tryna freeze your ass off too?”

Tommy.

Joel tried to say something, tried to shove out a half-assed retort, maybe a grumbled ‘I’m fine’—but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a pained, strained groan.

And just like that, all the annoyance drained from Tommy’s face, his eyes softening with exasperation.
“Ah, hell,” Tommy sighed.

He crouched down next to him, looping an arm around Joel’s back.
“A’right, man—let’s get ya somewhere warm and soft, yeah?”

Joel barely had the energy to nod.

Tommy hauled him up, taking on most of his weight, and Joel saw white.

Hot, blinding pain shot up from his ankle, seared through his back. His leg buckled again and Tommy kept him up.
And Tommy?

Tommy could feel his heart hammering.

Taking care of Joel was like wrestling a damn bull. The man was an amazing caretaker but a shit patient.
Tommy got Joel onto the bed with a grunt, steadying him as he sank down against the mattress like his bones had turned to lead, he quickly grabbed the blanket on the end of his bed and put it around Joel's shoulders, who was shivering and shaking a bit. Tommy kneeled down in front of him. Taking Joel’s hand and wrapping his own around them to warm him up, shocked at how cold it felt.

"You with me, man?"

"Yeah," he rasped, voice rough.

Tommy rustled through the bag, pulling out the dough he picked up downstairs, and carefully lifted Joel’s ankle. The moment he touched it, Joel’s whole body seized. He didn’t make a sound—just clenched his jaw so tight it looked like it might crack, his fingers digging into the sheets like he was trying to ground himself.

Tommy hissed through his teeth. "Fuck."

The swelling hadn’t gone down—it looked worse, deep purple bruising spreading along the joint.

But what had him freaking out was the fact that Joel wasn’t saying a damn thing. Not a single complaint. No grumbled ‘Ain’t that bad’, no ‘I’ve had worse’. Nothing.

Just clenched teeth. Rigid posture.

Tommy exhaled, shifting slightly.

Tommy knew exactly why Joel had dragged his stubborn ass all the way up here—another coughing fit, most likely, wanting to get as far away from Ellie as possible. That girl had school in two hours, and Joel would rather break himself in half than wake her up.

Tommy sighed, running a hand down his face. 6 a.m. He'd known Joel wouldn’t bother with the dough on his ankle, not properly—not when it was himself he had to take care of. Always so damn careless when it came to his own well-being.

“Dammit, Joel,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

He stood, grabbed a sock to keep the dough in place, and set Joel’s ankle down gently.

And then Joel coughed.

It was deep, rattling, shaking his whole body like it was tearing through him.

Tommy’s head snapped back toward him, heart clenching at the sound.

"M’sorry," Joel rasped, barely audible.

Tommy’s jaw clenched. "Fuck you," he shot back, because fuck, Joel always had to apologize for things that weren’t his fault. Always had to act like he was inconveniencing people just by existing.

He exhaled hard and sat down in front of him, watching as Joel blinked sluggishly, trying to push past the pain.

“What time is it?” Joel slurred, voice thick, words lazy from exhaustion.

Tommy sighed. “Six a.m.”

Joel’s brows furrowed slightly, eyes flickering with something like confusion. "Why you here?".

Tommy’s lips parted in sheer offense. “For fun,” he deadpanned, arms crossing. Unbelievable.

Joel huffed out something sarcastic, but it barely had any fight in it. “Go home, Tommy. You got patrol.” He groaned as he tried—tried—to ‘get’ up.

Tommy was on him in a second, hands firm on his shoulders, pushing him right back down. “Oh, like hell you will.”

Joel tried to glare, but it was weak.

Tommy ignored it. “I traded with someone,” he said, voice calm but firm. “Figured you could use some company.”

“You didn’t have to,” Joel muttered, his voice so quiet, so small.

Tommy looked away, swallowing thickly. "I wanted to, Joel," he said simply. "Now shut up. I'm gettin’ you downstairs, you're gonna sit your ass at the kitchen table, eat what I make ya, and I’m walkin’ Ellie to school. Then I’m comin’ right back." His tone left no room for argument.

Joel dropped his gaze, full of shame, and Tommy—Tommy tried real hard not to look at it. Not to feel it. But damn if it didn’t make his heart clench all the same.

Instead, he just moved closer, positioned himself so Joel could lean on him, and—miraculously—Joel didn’t argue. He just let Tommy take his weight, let himself be helped. That alone was enough to make Tommy’s throat tighten.

Step by step, slow and careful, they made their way downstairs. Tommy bore as much of the weight as he could, kept his grip steady while Joel stumbled through sharp hisses and clenched-jaw groans, doing everything he could to keep quiet.

And then—right as they reached the bottom—Joel heard it.

A soft, muffled snore.

Ellie.

His lips twitched, a smile flickering across his face. The sound of his kid sleeping safe and sound—it was the sweetest thing in the world.

Tommy guided him to a chair, helping him down with as much gentleness as he could manage, and Joel sank into it with a grunt.

Without a word, Tommy draped a blanket around his shoulders, but of course—of course—Joel shrugged it off, shifting it down to his lap instead, covering his legs.

Tommy rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

Instead, he focused on the way the morning sun bled into the room, the sky that was painted with red and orange, it was a sight to behold. It slipped through the windows, casting a golden light.

Tommy busied himself at the counter, fixing up two cups of coffee. Hot and strong and exactly what they both needed.

He slid one over, then sat down across from him, mug cradled in his hands.

Joel stared down at his own cup for a second, then—so softly—he murmured, “Thank you.”

And Tommy just nodded.

—------------------------------------------
Ellie woke up to the smell of breakfast and the sizzling sound of something cooking—or more likely, burning. Without missing a beat, she cursed herself for waking up late.

Late as in after Joel.

But then she heard Tommy’s voice. Wrapping the blanket around herself, she shuffled toward the kitchen, still groggy, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

What she walked in on was exactly what she expected.

Tommy was at the stove, aggressively fanning a very burnt pan, all while flipping Joel off. Joel, on the other hand, was grinning, all smug and mocking.

Ellie scrunched up her nose at the smell.

Joel noticed her before Tommy did. “Mornin’,” he said, voice filled with that love that was only for her.

She smiled sleepily, padding over to him, completely unaware of the kind of night he’d had. Without hesitation, she pressed a hand to his forehead, and he hissed at the cold.

Still, he stayed perfectly still for her.

Tommy just stared. Just two hours ago Joel was freezing, and he was too good at pretending that nothing was wrong.

“And?” Joel prompted.

Ellie hummed, pretending to think it over before nodding approvingly. “Hm.”

Joel huffed, amused, then pulled her hand from his forehead and placed it right over his heart, warming her fingers between his own. Tommy turned around, giving them a moment, Joel’d dad mode always overwhelmed him, with Sarah too. Joel did it without thinking, just muscle memory at this point. And Ellie? She barely reacted, just let it happen like it was an everyday thing.
Because it was.

Even on the road, even in the worst of times, her hands had always been tucked into his jacket pocket, because his pockets were bigger and warmer—and more than anything, because it let him wrap his hand around hers, keep her close.

“Sleep well?” she asked, voice soft.

“’Course,” he said, lying so easily it hurt. “You?”

She nodded with a small smile.

Tommy heard the familiar, press of a kiss against her head and had to blink rapidly, keeping the tears at bay. Papa bear Joel, he thought. No words could describe how happy he was to see that again.

Chapter Text

Breakfast had been nice—comfortable, even—right up until Tommy opened his damn mouth.

“A’ight, get changed, missy. I’m walkin’ ya to school.”

Ellie’s eyes snapped to him, wide and immediately defiant. “Hell no,” she shot back. “I’m staying with Joel, you—”

But Tommy wasn’t about to let her finish. “Calm down,” he cut in smoothly, not even a little surprised at the reaction. “Why the hell do ya think I’m here?”

Ellie opened her mouth to argue, but Tommy held up a hand in a way that was so painfully Joel-like, it made Joel himself raise an eyebrow.

“You need to go to school, kid,” Tommy continued firmly, leveling her with a look. “It’s my turn to annoy the hell outta the old fucker.”

That, somehow, got her. It wasn’t much, just a little snort, but Tommy still threw a triumphant look toward Joel, who only rolled his eyes.

Ah well, at least she was laughing—even if it was at his expense.

“C’mon,” Tommy urged, waving a hand toward the stairs. “Get changed, you look like a damn crackhead.”

Ellie, ever quick, shot him an approving nod. “And you, sir, look like a hippie.”

He nodded back, approvingly too.

Joel shook his head, huffing out something that sounded like a laugh. “You two are weird.”

Both of them—those little shits—flashed him matching wide-ass grins, like gremlins.

Ellie turned, heading upstairs, and the moment she was out of earshot, another coughing fit ripped through Joel.

Tommy winced. “Jesus, man. That cough ain’t lightenin’ up at all, huh?”

Joel barely managed a shake of his head, face red, breath hitching.

“At least it ain’t dry no more,” he rasped, trying for something close to optimism.

Tommy raised an unimpressed brow. “Yeah, great. Now you actually sound like an old man.”

Joel huffed, voice still hoarse. “Yeah, yeah. Real funny.”

Before Tommy could get in another jab, Ellie came barreling down the stairs .

“It’s go time,” Tommy declared dramatically, standing with his hands on his hips like he was leading some kind of grand mission.

Ellie shot Joel a look, all pointed and bossy. “Don’t fucking move.”

Tommy, already following her toward the hall, threw a glance back at Joel and added, “Yeah. What she said.”

As Tommy pulled on his boots, Ellie suddenly threw hers off.

“Girl, what the he—”

“Forgot somethin’!” she called over her shoulder before bolting back toward the kitchen.

Joel had been busying himself with his coffee—third cup now, maybe fourth, hell if he knew—just something to do with his hands .

Quick footsteps.

His head snapped up on instinct, brows furrowing just as Ellie came rushing back into the room, all hurried movement and sheer determination.

"Did you forget somethin’, kiddo?" he asked.

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she crashed into him, arms winding tight around his neck.

Joel barely had time to register it—to exhale, to even react—before she pressed a soft kiss to his head, the same way he had been doing mindlessly for months now.

And then—just like that—she was gone.

Bolting back down the hallway without a word, disappearing before he could even process it.

From the doorway, all he heard was Tommy’s voice and the slam of the door.

Joel just sat there.

Letting it sink in.

He hadn’t expected that.

—-------------------------------------------------
Ellie’s face was burning by the time they stepped outside, pink creeping up her ears, and Tommy—well, Tommy wasn’t one to let things slide.

“So, what’d you forget?” he asked, all casual-like, just trying to make conversation.

Ellie turned her face away, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. “Nothin’.”

“Hm.”

Silence stretched between them, boots crunching against the ground. Tommy tried again.

“Got anything excitin’ planned at school today?”

Ellie shrugged. “Dunno.”

That made his face drop just a little.

He knew she was tense—had felt it the second they walked out the door—then she suddenly turned her head, looking back toward the house.

Toward what she was leaving behind.

Tommy placed a warm, steady hand on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t pull away.

That made him just a little proud.

“He’ll be okay,” Tommy said gently.

“I know.”

That gave him pause.

Not a what the hell do you know. Not a shut up, Tommy. Just a simple I know.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t worried.

“Then why you so tense, huh?” he pressed, voice still soft. “Why you so worried then?”

Ellie opened her mouth—wanted to answer—but hesitated.

“’Cause…”

“’Cause what?” Tommy nudged, patient curiosity.

Ellie’s face fell.

She looked down, then away.

“…Forget it.”

Tommy sighed. He didn’t push. He never liked to push her, not when she got like this.

“Alright,” he murmured, accepting the silence for what it was.

By the time they reached the school, he gave her one last bit of reassurance.

“I’ll take care of him, kid.”

Tommy watched her go.

Then he turned back around—back toward home, back toward that stubborn-as-hell brother of his—shaking his head.

Lord help him.

—-----------------------------------------------
To Tommy’s very unexpected surprise, Joel was still exactly where he’d left him—sitting at the kitchen table, nursing yet another cup of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

His brows were slick with sweat, his face lined with exhaustion, his whole body screaming discomfort. But he was still there.

Tommy huffed, stepping inside. “Howdy,” he tried softly, careful not to spook him.

Joel looked up as he walked in, movements slow, heavy. He gave a small nod—acknowledgment, at least—and rasped out, “Hi.”

Tommy crossed his arms, tipping his chin. “How bad?”

Joel sucked in a deep breath, like even answering the damn question was a feat.

“Eh.”

Okay, so that was a start. No grumbled reassurance, no I’m fine, just eh.

Tommy sighed and kneeled in front of him, tapping Joel’s leg lightly. “Turn this way for me.”

It took effort—too much effort—but Joel complied.

He was still hiding it.

Still trying.

Tommy pulled back the sock just a little to check his ankle, lips pressing together at the sight. Still swollen, still bruised, but—

“Look,” he tried, keeping his voice light, “it looks less angry. A little bit. But still—less angry.”

Joel shot him a smile.

But Tommy was curious.

“How the hell did you hide this from her, man?”

“Let her fall asleep… ‘fore movin’.”

Tommy sat back on the ground, shaking his head. Of course he did.

He watched Joel closely, his voice softer now. “She’s worried.”

Joel’s body tensed. His jaw locked tight, and he turned his face away, but it didn’t hide the way his fingers curled into a fist on his lap. The shame sat heavy between them, thick enough that Tommy could feel it.

He let the silence stretch, then tried to lighten the mood. Give his brother a way out.

“You gotta take a shower, buddy. You look like a damn bucket of oil.”

Joel huffed out something that might’ve been a laugh, but it turned into a sigh as he tried to plant his foot on the ground. He tested his weight, and immediately, his body gave a sharp protest. With a grunt, he sank back down, sighed and extended an arm toward Tommy.

Tommy took it without hesitation. “I gotcha,” he murmured, gripping Joel’s forearm as he helped him up.

Joel held on tight as they made their way to the bathroom, slow and steady. Tommy didn’t mind. Hell, if it meant his stubborn-ass brother was actually letting himself be helped for once, he’d walk him anywhere.

Once they reached the bathroom, Tommy instinctively moved to help Joel inside, but Joel braced a hand against the doorframe. “I got it,” he said, offering a small smile.

Tommy raised a brow. “You sure?” he teased, nudging him lightly. “I’ll wash your hair for ya.”

Joel let out a small chuckle, shaking his head before reaching out and smacking Tommy upside the head. Playfully, to make Tommy laugh.

But then—Joel’s breath hitched ,a harsh cough tore through him, doubling him over.

“Shit, shit—” Tommy reached for him, gripping his elbow to keep him upright.

Joel clutched at his ribs, his free hand gripping the doorframe like he was barely holding on. It took him a second—too long of a second—before he finally managed to suck in a shaky breath.

“I’m alright,” he rasped, voice rough and worn.

Tommy wasn’t convinced.

But Joel gave him a nod before stepping inside and shutting the door.

Tommy stood there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. Should I stay? He listened for a moment, hearing the water turn on. Okay. He’s good.

Still. Just in case.

He grabbed some fresh clothes and set them on Joel’s bed before cracking the door open, leaving it ajar so he could hear anything—coughing, groaning, anything—that meant he needed to get in there and help.

Then, with one last glance at the door, Tommy exhaled and headed for the kitchen. Food. That’s what he could do. Prep some food, clean up a little. Something to make sure Joel had what he needed when he came out.

Yeah. That was good. That was helping.

—---------------------------
Joel’s shower took way too damn long.

Tommy had already prepped a chicken soup, letting it simmer low on the stove to keep warm. Then, in a burst of restless energy, he cleaned the whole damn house in ten minutes flat—not that it even needed it. Joel was a neat freak, always had been. Even sick as a dog, the place was damn near spotless.

Still, the time kept ticking. And ticking.

What the hell’s takin’ him so long?

Tommy listened for the sound of footsteps. Eventually, he heard them—soft but steady, moving around upstairs.

But then… the footsteps stopped.

Too long.

Way too long.

Something uneasy curled in Tommy’s gut. He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face before heading up the stairs. He kept his steps quiet, listening the whole way. He knew Joel hated being babied—loathed it, really—but sue him, that was his big brother in there, sick as hell, and if something was wrong…

He stopped at the doorway, peeking inside—and his heart damn near fell out of his chest.

Joel was sitting on the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched, wincing as he prodded at something with a small handheld mirror. He was shirtless, just wearing an old pair of sweatpants, and Tommy could see every damn scar scattered across his body.

But one in particular made his stomach churn.

That ugly, white, jagged thing stretching across the lower part of his belly.

Tommy swallowed hard.

Before he could stop himself, his mouth moved faster than his brain.

“Joel?”

Joel’s head snapped up so fast the mirror tumbled from his hands, hitting the floor with a dull clatter. His hand instantly reaching for the nearest shirt like it was instinct.

Tommy took a step forward.

“What in the fuck,” he whispered.

Joel didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Just sat there, frozen in place, like he didn’t know what the hell to do.

“S’nothing,” he muttered. His voice came out hoarse, weak, which wasn’t helping his damn case.

Tommy kneeled down in front of him, searching his face for any kind of eye contact. Joel avoided it,

“Let me see,” Tommy pressed.

“No.”

“Joel.”

“No.”

But then, Tommy’s voice softened, turned all quiet and desperate, and that made Joel’s chest tighten more than any damn coughing fit.

“Please, Joel.”

Joel exhaled slow through his nose. His grip on the fabric of his shirt loosened just slightly. He hesitated, then slowly lowered it, exposing the scar he’d tried so hard to hide. His jaw clenched, shame burning through him, and he looked away, squeezing his eyes shut.

Tommy’s ears started ringing.

The scar was thick. White. Mutilated. A mess of torn, healed-over skin that had clearly been opened too many fucking times.

A stab wound.

Tommy felt his stomach lurch.

“What the hell happened?” he whispered, voice rough, like his throat was closing up. His hand moved before he could stop it, reaching toward the scar but Joel flinched, jerking away before he could make contact.

“I’m okay,” Joel rasped.

“Not the fucking question,” Tommy shot back, sharp.

Joel exhaled, long and slow.

“After we left here,” he started, voice quiet, strained. “Got ambushed. One of ‘em almost got the jump on me. Left a baseball bat in there.” He gestured vaguely toward his stomach, not daring to look up.

Tommy’s breath caught. His throat clenched so damn tight it hurt.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he whispered.

Joel didn’t answer. Didn’t look at him. Just kept his eyes locked on the floor .

Tommy didn’t think—he just moved.

In an instant, he had Joel pulled into a tight-as-hell hug, arms locked around him like he was afraid he’d disappear if he let go.

Joel stiffened at first, caught off guard, but after a second he let himself sink into it.

His shoulders sagged, exhaustion weighing heavy, and he let Tommy hold him up for a minute. Didn’t fight it. Didn’t pull away.

Chapter Text

Tommy wouldn’t let go.

He had Joel wrapped up so damn tight, he could barely breath. Not that Joel minded—he just hadn’t been held like that in a long time.

His brother’s arms were solid around him, gripping at his back like he was scared to loosen his hold, and after a second, Joel started rubbing slow, steady circles into Tommy’s back.

“I’m okay,” he murmured, voice rough and quiet. “I’m okay.”

If he hadn’t felt like his heart had dropped into oblivion he would’ve laughed at the fact that it’s still Joel who’s trying to comfort him, when he’s the one with a mutilated scar.

Tommy’s grip only tightened.

“Fuck you,” he muttered, but there was no heat behind it. Just quiet, aching relief.

Joel actually did chuckle at that.

Tommy huffed, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Let’s get your ass changed. I got some soup ready for you.”

He reached for Joel’s shirt, and paused. Squinted a little. “You need help?”

Joel looked up at him, hesitating. His jaw clenched, and for a second, Tommy thought he was gonna pull the usual Nah, I got it bullshit.

But after a beat, Joel sighed and gave a slow nod.

Tommy didn’t let it show on his face, but it made something deep in his chest pull tight—pride, maybe, or just that heavy, awful kind of love you feel when someone finally lets you take care of ‘em.

He got into position next to Joel, bracing himself. “Alright,” he murmured as he slipped an arm under his brother’s. “Lean on me.”

And Joel did.

No point in pretending now.

By the time they made it to the couch, Joel was looking rough. Tommy eased him down slow, steady, making sure he was comfortable before stepping away to the kitchen.

Joel let his head rest against the back of the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. His whole body ached, stuffed up and miserable. Tommy was back, setting a steaming bowl of chicken soup in front of him.

The second the smell hit him, Joel perked up just a little, blinking down at it. “Holy shit, Tommy, that smells amazing.”

To his surprise, Tommy went a little red, ducking his head with a small, pleased smile. “Yeah?.”

Joel let out a tired chuckle, grabbing the spoon, but before he could take a bite, Tommy spoke again, voice softer this time.

“Just takin’ after my big brother.”

Joel’s throat burned—not just from the damn cold, but from the way those words settled deep in his chest. Oh it fell good to be a big brother again.

—-----------------------
The hours went by easily, Tommy had bundled Joel in blankets and two hot water bottles. The ankle nicely propped up, but that damn cough? It was still bad, still rough and deep, but at least it wasn’t ripping him apart the way it had been earlier. Small mercies.

Tommy had made damn sure to keep Joel’s mug full of the herbal teas Ellie had picked out, no matter how much he grumbled about it.

“I fucking hate tea,” Joel muttered, voice raw as he scowled at the steaming mug in his hands.

Tommy barely spared him a glance. “I don’t care. Drink up.”

Joel huffed but took a reluctant sip anyway, pulling a face. Tommy grinned “No coffee until you drink all of it”, and he immediately got out of the way seeing how Joel picked up a pillow to throw at him.

—-
A little while later, Tommy checked the clock and sighed. “Ah, shit—I gotta go put together next week’s patrol schedule. Won’t be long. I’ll grab Ellie on my way back.” He hesitated, lingering by the couch like he hated the thought of leaving.

Joel almost laughed at how guilty he looked. “I’ll be okay, Tommy. Go do your thing.”

Tommy smiled, though his eyes were still wary. “Please don’t get up.”

“I won’t do anything,” Joel promised, waving him off. “Go.”

Tommy hesitated one more second before nodding. “Okay.”

And then he was gone, the front door clicking shut behind him, and just like that, Joel was alone again.

The plants.

He hadn’t taken care of them for days. Annoyingly, Joel could feel his heart ache for them, which was stupid, wasn’t it?

Still. They needed water.

With a sigh, he tested his ankle, shifting his weight carefully before pushing himself up.

Ah, fuck. That hurt like a motherfucker.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stand. Stubbornness carried him to the kitchen, where he grabbed the biggest damn bottle he could find, filling it up. That’d save him from having to make another trip.

Now he just had to get back.

Halfway across the room, the pain shot up, and before he could stop himself, his knees buckled.

“Oh, fuck you,” Joel hissed as he sank to the floor, wincing.

Well. Walking was out.

Fine.

He shifted, adjusting the bottle under his arm, and started shuffling across the floor, dragging himself toward the window. Those plants were gonna get their water, one way or another.

It had taken way more effort than it should have, but Joel finally made it to the damn plants, shifting until he was sitting right underneath them, back pressed against the wall. His ankle was screaming, pulsing in time with his heartbeat, but at least he’d made it. That was what mattered.

He exhaled slow, letting himself sit there for a second, catching his breath.

One by one, he reached for the plants, carefully setting all five of them on the floor in front of him. His fingers ghosted over their leaves, gentle.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Been a bit busy. But I’m here now.”

He opened the bottle of water, reaching for the first one—a sticky geranium, someone had told him. It had been a gift, like the rest of them. Housewarming or thank you gifts.

He turned the little pot in his hands, studying the pink petals.

“Well, aren’t you pretty?” he murmured, thumb brushing over the leaves.

He checked the soil, feeling if it needed water. He had taken the care instructions real seriously. Before—before—he hadn’t been big on plants. The one in his old room had died a horrible death, neglected and forgotten. But Sarah?

Sarah had loved them.

She had filled the house with little pots, their leaves spilling over. She talked to them, took care of them with such soft care. They need compliments, Dad, she’d always say, hands covered in dirt, grinning wide.

Joel’s heart ached with love and grief, he took a big breath and looked up.

I miss you baby, he thought.

His fingers trembled just a little as he watered the geranium, watching the soil darken, drinking up the water. In his stupid, sentimental mind, he’d decided this one had been Sarah’s favorite. It was her favorite color, after all. Bright. Cheerful. Pretty.

Like her.

This was his way of keeping her alive.

Joel set the geranium down gently and reached for the next plant, the Indian Paintbrush. He ran his fingers over the bright red and orange blooms, marveling at how it seemed to hold its own little universe in those delicate petals. Another thoughtful gift. This one from an old lady in town, after he’d helped fix up a shelf in her house. She’d handed it over to him with a smile.

When he’d first brought it home, Ellie had nearly lost her damn mind over it. Her eyes lit up when she saw it, and she’d named it her favorite right then and there. At first, Joel had just thought it was cute, but in true Joel style he had thought about it that night, it made him all sappy thinking about it. His little girl, with her loud, unfiltered thoughts and her firecracker energy, now had a favorite flower.

"Guess this one’s yours, huh, kiddo?" he whispered softly, his voice hoarse as he cradled the plant in his hands. "I’ll take care of ya. Don’t you worry."

He’d listened to the instructions carefully. Water it every two to four days, no more, no less. He poured the water carefully, watching it soak into the soil.

There was something about the plant that felt... fitting. It was wild and free, full of color and energy, like Ellie. Growing and taking up more space, just like she did in his life. Loud, bright, and undeniable.

He couldn’t help but smile, looking at it, the way it had grown so much since that day. His Ellie’s favorite flower. He glanced back at the geranium, resting beside it, so elegant, beautiful, and graceful.
Just like his Sarah.

Chapter Text

Joel let out a slow breath, staring at the last three pots. They were still growing seeds, still figuring themselves out, but his sentimental ass had already decided who they were. Tommy, Maria, and their baby—his family.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he carefully poured water over the soil. Look at me, naming plants like you used to, he thought, almost like Sarah could hear him. It was ridiculous, but hell, it made sense in his heart.

With a quiet grunt, he set them back where they belonged, brushing a bit of dirt off his hands. Now, all he had to do was get back to the couch before Tommy got home and threw a damn fit. He’d technically promised not to get up—but shuffling on his ass across the floor? That hadn’t been part of the deal.

The house was too damn quiet. He reached for the remote, turning the TV up just a little. The familiar hum of voices filled the space, taking the edge off the loneliness.

Sighing, he let his head drop against the couch, the exhaustion creeping in deep. His body ached, his chest burned. He curled up against the couch pillow. His fingers curled loosely around it, holding onto the comfort. His eyes were so damn heavy. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be the worst thing.

—--------------------------------
Ellie was screaming.

He couldn’t see her, the darkness was too thick, but he could hear her—choking, gasping, begging.

“Joel—!”

His feet pounded against the ground, breath heaving, lungs on fire.

“Joel!”

The scream cut off too fast, and then—silence.

No. No, no, no, no.

He surged forward, his heart slamming against his ribs, and suddenly he was there.

Ellie was on the ground. Blood pooling beneath her, staining the snow, soaking her shirt—her hands were shaking, pressed against the gaping wound in her stomach, her breath coming in short, broken gasps.

She looked up at him.

Terrified.

Her mouth moved, lips forming a whisper he couldn’t hear, her eyes locking onto his.

Joel dropped to his knees, his hands flying to hers, pressing hard, like if he could just hold her together, keep the blood inside, she’d be okay—she had to be okay.

But the blood kept slipping through.

“No, no, no, baby, I gotcha, I gotcha—”

Her fingers clenched weakly against his.

Then—they stopped moving.

“Ellie!”

And Joel woke violently.

A sharp, strangled sound ripped from his throat as he shot upright, his whole body trembling, soaked in sweat. His breath came in harsh, ragged gasps, and he started coughing hard.

“Joel!”

Ellie.

She was infront of him, wide-eyed, hands clenched at her sides.

She wasn’t bleeding. She was here.

Joel sucked in a breath, but it caught in his throat. The cough tore through him before he could stop it. His whole body lurched forward, arm wrapping tight around his ribs as he tried to hold himself together. Fuck. Fuck. It hurt.

And Ellie—God, Ellie—was already moving.

“Hey, hey, hey—drink this,” she stammered, hands shaking as she lifted a cup to his lips. He should’ve been embarrassed, should’ve tried to take it himself, but his hands wouldn’t stop trembling. He barely had the strength to hold himself up, let alone a damn cup.

He didn’t fight her. Just let the warm water ease the burn in his throat.

He ran a shaking hand down his face, trying—failing—to slow his breathing, but it was stuck, rattling in his chest, uneven and wrong. His fist clenched against his sternum, like he could physically force the panic back down.

And then—soft, steady circles on his back.

“You’re okay,” she whispered. His words. His voice, just softer, smaller. “You’re okay. We’re in Jackson.”

Joel’s throat burned for an entirely different reason.

She shouldn’t have to do this. Shouldn’t have to comfort him. She was supposed to be in school, supposed to be worrying about dumb kid things, not this—not him.

But God, was he grateful she was there.

The coughs finally eased, his breath evening out just enough for him to lift his head. His vision swam.

His hand trembled as he reached for her cheek, and the second he made contact, she leaned into it. Real.
“I’m here,” she whispered.

Joel swallowed hard. “You are,” he rasped.

He pulled her in, and she didn’t hesitate—wrapped her arms around him tight. His chin rested on top of her head.

His heartbeat had just started to slow when his eyes flicked to the clock.

12:45.

His stomach dropped.

She was supposed to be at school.

Joel pulled back just enough to cup her face, tilting her chin up so she couldn’t look away. His eyes locked onto hers.

“You’re supposed to be at school?” he asked, voice rough.

Ellie hesitated. "Wanted to check on you."

Joel swallowed hard, his heart going soft in a way he still didn’t know how to handle.

"Thank you," he murmured, voice hoarse.

Ellie didn’t say anything—just pushed him back gently against the couch, tucking the blanket around him like he’d done for her a hundred times before.

Then, without hesitation, she curled into his side, nuzzling close, warm and solid.

She tilted her head up at him, and when she smiled, he couldn’t help but smile back.

Joel let his eyes drift shut, his breathing finally steady.

They were okay.

—---------------------
Tommy had waited.

Thirty goddamn minutes.

Standing outside that school scanning every face that walked out, waiting for some sign of Ellie.

Nothing.

Then he tore through the building, checking classrooms, hallways, even the damn cafeteria—until a pit settled deep in his stomach.

He literally ran home, praying, hoping Ellie was home.

But the second he barged through the door, relief crashed into him so hard his knees almost buckled.

Ellie was right there.

Leaning against Joel on the couch, curled into his side, watching TV like she hadn’t just shaved years off his damn life.

She turned, eyes going wide with guilt the moment she saw him.

Shit, sorry, she mouthed.

Tommy exhaled hard, flipping her off as he turned away, needing a damn second to collect himself.

Fucking hell.

A moment later, he heard soft footsteps.

"Tommy," Ellie mumbled.

He turned, watching her fumble with her fingers, shifting on her feet like a kid caught red-handed.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, barely looking at him.

Tommy ran a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose before forcing a smile.

"Kid, you damn near gave me a heart attack."

Ellie winced.

"I just… I wanted to check on him."

Tommy sighed, nodding as he gestured for her to sit.

"I know, I know."

"He’s hurting a lot," Ellie whispered.

Tommy felt a deep ache in his chest at the sound of her words. He hated seeing her like this, knowing how much she was carrying. He couldn’t imagine how hard this was on her, but he could see the weight of it on her face.

"He’ll be okay," he said, trying to convince both of them, but something in her eyes told him she wasn’t sure.

"I know that," she answered quietly. Tommy realized with the information he had gotten this morning about Joels scar, that maybe this was like a flashback for her. That this was why she was so tense and scared from the start. Maybe she thought she had to take care of him again? Without any help?

He reached out for her hand, and she jumped at the touch, but she didn’t pull away. He squeezed her hand, trying to let her know she wasn’t alone.

"You’re not alone anymore," he said, his voice soft, but serious.

Her brow furrowed, like she didn’t quite understand what he was saying.

"You’re not alone anymore," he repeated, a little more firm this time. He needed her to hear it, needed her to believe it.

Ellie nodded, but her voice was small when she replied, "I know." But Tommy could see the doubt in her eyes. She didn’t know. Not in the way she needed to.

"You’re not alone anymore, ya hear me?" he said again, his voice a little louder now, not allowing her to dismiss it this time.

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and Tommy’s heart cracked. He couldn’t stand seeing her like this.

He knelt in front of her, taking a deep breath as he opened his arms. She didn’t hesitate. She just fell into him, burying her face against his shoulder. And Tommy wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he could.

"We’re here," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You don’t gotta do it alone anymore."

Ellie didn’t say anything, but he could feel her nod.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice quiet.

He held her tighter, feeling like maybe, just maybe, he could take some of that weight off her.

Tommy stayed quiet for a moment, holding Ellie in the embrace. Then he spoke

“You didn’t deserve that”

Thinking it would comfort him, but Ellie broke off the hug, looking offended and annoyed.

“What?! So I should’ve left him to die?,” she said, voice thick with emotion.

He raised his hands “I didn’t–”

“I care about him. I don’t wanna lose him.” Her words broke through and Tommy’s chest tightened.

“I can’t lose him. He’s my family.”

He felt his heart twist at that—because he knew. He knew how much Joel meant to her, how much she needed him, just like Joel needed her.

Tommy tried to comfort her, tried to find the right words. “We’re your family too,” he said gently, his voice laced with sincerity, hoping she would know, know that she had a big family now.

But Ellie shook her head, her frustration surfacing now. “I know,” she said. “But it’s not the same. You like me because I’m Joel’s. But Joel... he liked me just because. I don’t even know why, Tommy. Just because I’m me.”

Tommy’s breath caught in his throat . He opened his mouth to speak but found himself at a loss. Ellie took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking slightly .

He waited, let the silence linger, and then, finally, he spoke. His voice was low but steady. “For the record,” he started, his heart in his throat, “We don’t like you. We love you. All of us.”

She blinked, the tears she’d been holding back falling, her lips trembling as she tried to form a response, but all that came out was a soft, broken laugh.

Tommy just held her again, tighter this time, never wanting her to feel like she was alone in this, like she didn’t belong. Because she was his family too—just as much as Joel was.
This was his niece after all.

Chapter Text

Tommy had left after about an hour, promising he’d be back in the evening, leaving Ellie with the whole afternoon to herself. As soon as the door clicked shut, her gaze drifted over to Joel, who was still sleeping on the couch, looking very uncomfortable. His color was still sick looking, and he was shivering slightly under the thin blanket she had pulled around him. Ellie couldn’t stand it.

A little idea, one that had Joel written all over it, crossed her mind. A mischievous grin spread across her face. Stupid idea, but she couldn't help it—this was exactly what Joel had done for her countless times, and she couldn’t wait to return the favor.

She hurried upstairs, moving as quietly as she could, and grabbed every single pillow and blanket she could find.

Ellie threw half the pillows down the stairs. She was pretty damn proud of herself for that, even if it was a little chaotic. She then dragged it all to Joel—blankets, pillows, the whole works—and made a mess in the living room while she piled them up around him. Her goal was: build Joel a damn fortress of warmth and softness, so he could finally rest comfortably.

But then reality hit her. Getting him to lie down was going to be tricky. She didn’t want him sitting up anymore—his shoulders and back had been taking a beating from their time on the road, and he never listened to her then. No way she was letting him suffer through that this time.

She took a deep breath and gently shook his shoulder, standing on his good side. "Joel," she whispered softly, her voice barely louder than a breath. She knew he was a light sleeper, and especially her voice startled him awake, and it did, his hand shooting out to hers with a gasp.

"Shit!" Ellie flinched, but Joel didn’t seem to realize. His eyes were wide with confusion, and he scanned her face like he was trying to make sense of where he was. “Y’okay?” His voice was rough, his sleep-deprived slur tugging at her heart.

She smiled gently, trying to ease his worry. “I’m okay, Joel. Just lie down, alright?”

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, clearly exhausted. "No, I'm—"

Ellie gave him a stern look, putting her hands on her hips, despite the tenderness in her heart. “Fucking lie down,” she said, her voice a bit firmer than she intended. But it made him soften instantly, and he nodded, which told her just how tired he was. She felt a small pang in her chest. He’d been trying to fight it for so long, pushing through when all he really needed was to rest. Before he lay down, he looked at the pillows all propped up, his brows furrowed, it made her slightly nervous. But then she saw the smile form, he looked at her, “Thank you” he whispered, it made her heart tighten. His hand was still on hers and he grabbed it, planting a soft kiss on her knuckles, fuck fuck don’t cry, don’t cry.

With a groan of effort, Joel eased himself down onto the cushions, letting the exhaustion take over. Ellie smiled at his quiet compliance, relieved he wasn’t putting up more of a fight.

He didn’t let go of her hand when he laid back, his grip still weak but steady. “Y’okay?” he asked, voice softer now, a hint of concern lingering. Ellie’s heart melted a little.

“I am, man. I am.” She gave him a warm smile, trying to reassure him, to ease his worry. “You’re the one who needs rest, remember?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting shut as he let out a breath. She noticed the bags under his eyes then, how tired he looked even in sleep. Had she missed him waking up last night? She could feel it in her gut—she had, and she didn’t like it. But damn if she wasn’t going to make sure he rested now.

With the softest blanket she could find, Ellie tugged it over him, making sure it covered him just right. She could hear his quiet breaths, his body finally relaxing as he settled into the warmth. Ellie smiled down at him as she adjusted the blanket, making sure he was snug and comfortable. He started coughing, but it was nowhere near the severity it was a few days ago, the tea was helping, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

He shifted slightly, his hand reaching out to rest near her, almost instinctively. It was something Joel did on the road, after Silver Lake. He'd keep a hand on her, just to know she was there. It comforted them both, the contact a confirmation that they were both there. Sometimes, he'd grab her ankle when he slept, sometimes her hand. And when he napped, Ellie would settle in, leaning against his back with a book in hand, reading until he'd stir and wake up.

Ellie couldn't resist. Without a word, she gently took his hand in hers, her fingers wrapping around his. She squeezed his hand softly, as though to let him know she was there, just like he'd always done for her.

Ellie grabbed the herbal book she’d gotten from one of the doctors and settled in on the ground next to Joel. The book was filled with pictures of plants and flowers, all used for different things. She never knew plants could be so damn useful. Back in the QZ, medicine was all about popping a Hydro or drinking until the pain dulled. If someone was really hurt? You left them behind. No one ever taught her how to actually help.

Resentment bubbled up inside her. That’s why she hadn’t known how to treat Joel’s wound. Why she had to watch him suffer and heal way slower than he should have. It pissed her off, made her want to go back and, demand why no one ever taught kids how to help people.

Her eyes flicked down the page, and something caught her attention immediately—Joint inflammation.

She knew what that meant. Joel’s knees. How many times had she seen him stiffen up, wince when he stood? On bad days, he could barely walk. The fact that they had made it from Boston to Jackson was already a fucking miracle.

Her eyes scanned the page. Yarrow—a white flower—could help. Oh, hell yeah. She was absolutely going to trade for this. She kept reading, flipping through the book until another word jumped out at her. Willow bark.

It could be used as a painkiller. Compared to aspirin. Aspirin.

Ellie’s heart jumped. That was huge. A win. If she could get her hands on some of that, maybe Joel would feel a little better, maybe the pain wouldn’t be so bad. She wracked her brain—where was the woman with the herbal shit again? Joel had shown her the house once, to tell her where he had gotten the plant she liked so much.

Her excitement bubbled over, nearly making her bounce on the spot. She looked over at Joel—still dead asleep, breathing slow and steady. If she was quick, she could make it a surprise.

Grinning to herself, she scrambled to grab her jacket and bolted out the door.

Ellie took off running, her breath coming fast as excitement pushed her forward. When she finally spotted the house, a small wave of nerves washed over her.

She hadn’t really talked to adults on her own before in Jackson, not like this. Still, she forced herself forward, stepping up to the door and knocking, her heart pounding.

A moment later, the door swung open, and a warm, smiling woman stood in front of her. “Well, hello there! You must be Ellie.”

Ellie blinked, caught off guard. How the hell did everyone know her name?

“Uh—yeah,” she said, a little stiffly. “I—”

“Come in, honey, come in.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just ushered her inside. Ellie hesitated for only a second before stepping through the doorway, and holy shit.

The place was beautiful. Flowers and greenery filled every corner, sunlight filtering through the leaves like something out of a dream. She stopped in her tracks, staring.

The woman chuckled. “Pretty, huh? Now, what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

Ellie snapped back to reality, suddenly feeling way more awkward than she had a minute ago. “I, uh…” She cleared her throat. “I’m looking for yarrow. And willow tree.”

Her expression softened immediately, like she already knew. “I’m guessing this is for your dad, huh?”

Ellie’s breath caught, just for a second.

The woman must’ve noticed because she gave her a warm smile. “I know yarrow is used to treat joint inflammation. And since you’re movin’ just fine, I figured it was for him.”

Ellie nodded, shifting on her feet. “He, uh—he’s got a cold too.”

“Oh, bless his heart,” she said, shaking her head as she started gathering the herbs. “Nasty one?”

“Yeah. Lots of coughing.”

“You already got somethin’ for that?”

Ellie nodded quickly. “Yeah, his cough’s better. Just wanna speed things up.” She tried to sound polite, like Joel always did when he talked to people around town.

The woman hummed approvingly, pulling together the plants and tucking them into a small bag. Then, as she worked, she added, “Your dad talks about ya a lot, hon. Always goin’ on and on about how sweet you are.”

Ellie froze.

Her face immediately burned hot, and she could not control the way her ears turned red.

Ellie swallowed hard, shifting again, suddenly feeling way too warm in her jacket. Joel talked about her? Like that? She wasn’t sure why it made her chest feel so...full.

“I’m Lana, by the way.” She turned and held out a hand, and Ellie quickly shook it, mumbling, “Ellie.”

“I know,” Miss Lana said, smiling before turning back to her plants.

Ellie stuffed her hands into her pockets, watching as the woman moved around the room, carefully picking out what she needed.

Then, as she finished packing up the herbs, Ellie wanted to ask her one more favor that got her hands shaking, "Can I maybe get some", she took a deep deep breath as Lana looked at her softly.

Ellie blinked. "Some flowers, Uh, I— ? ”

But before she could get another word out, Miss Lana smiled wildly, as she was already bustling around, carefully picking out different flowers, mumbling about which ones had the best colors.

Ellie knew just how much Joel loved flowers, he had never told her but he had overheard him talk to the ones they had on the windows. She felt akward to ask for them, but knew how much it would cheer him up.

Ellie stood there, awkward as hell, watching her walk around the room. When everything was gathered, she accepted the bag with a quick, polite, “Thank you, ma’am.”

Lana’s smile grew even brighter at that, eyes crinkling with warmth. That was exactly how Joel always thanked her, this kid… and even Ellie realised it.

But she didn’t stick around long enough to think about it—she was out the door before her face could start burning again.

She ran home, fast as she could, her heart hammering in her chest—not from the sprint, but from the excitement.

She pushed open the door as quietly as possible, slipping inside like a damn thief. The house was silent.

Hell yeah.

Joel was still sleeping.

Biting back a grin, she rushed to the kitchen, wasting no time. She washed everything fast but carefully, scrubbing off the dirt and getting the plants ready to use. Then she grabbed a vase from the shelf, filled it up, and carefully arranged the flowers, setting them where he’d see them first thing when he woke up.

That done, she quickly flipped open her book, running a finger over the page. Aspirin tree thing first.

She followed the steps exactly, hissing as the warm water stung her hands slightly. God, this did not look appetizing.

But she didn’t care.

She poured it into a cup, making sure it was just right before setting it carefully on the coffee table next to the flowers.

She took a step back, hands on her hips, surveying her work.

Hell yeah. Mission accomplished.

With a nod to herself, she plopped down next to Joel, picking up her book again and acting like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just run across town, made some weird witchy-ass potion, and arranged a bunch of flowers.

Nope. Totally normal.

Joel woke up about an hour later, and by that point, Ellie was damn near bouncing in her spot. She couldn’t help it—she’d been waiting for him to wake up, checking his forehead every now and then just to make sure she hadn’t somehow missed a fever creeping back in.

He was fine. Just tired. That was all.

As soon as his eyes blinked open, she scooted closer, waving a hand in front of his face with an exaggerated squint.

“Earth to Joel, you there?” she teased, grinning awkwardly.

Joel let out a sleepy chuckle, eyes barely open as he ran a hand down his face. “M’here,” he mumbled. His voice was gravelly as hell, still thick with sleep, but there was a small, tired smile on his lips. “M’here.”

Right on cue, he let out a low groan, his hand stilling on his forehead. Bingo. Headache.

Wasn’t she just a fucking genius? She had just the thing for that.

“You good?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

He made a noise, still trying to wake up, but when he slowly sat up, his expression shifted into confusion. His eyes moved from the blankets, to the pillows, brows furrowing like he was trying to put something together.

Before he could say anything, she sprang into action.

“Ah, ah—don’t sit up all the way! Just lean back.” She quickly readjusted the pillows, making sure they were properly supporting him.

Joel let out a tired huff but complied, still looking a little out of it. He didn’t nap much, and he felt a bit strange, his gaze landed on the clock. Ah 4 fucking p.m, that explains it, but then his gaze landed on the coffee table—

And the flowers.

Ellie’s heart jumped into her throat.

She could see it, the exact moment he registered what he was looking at. His eyes softened—God, so much it made her chest ache. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted to her.

She felt her face go hot.

“…You like ‘em?” she asked, trying not to sound nervous.

Joel blinked, lips parting slightly, he was taken aback.

Then, instead of answering, he just reached out and took her hand.

Before she could react, he pulled her in, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close.

Ellie let out a small, surprised noise, but melted instantly, pressing her face against his shoulder.

His hand running up her back as he leaned his head against hers. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than she’d ever heard it.

“I love ‘em,” he murmured.

Ellie felt something tighten in her throat.

“…Yeah?” she mumbled, trying so hard to sound normal.

He gave a small nod, squeezing her just a little tighter.

“Yeah, baby girl. I do.”

"I got something for your headache," Ellie said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Joel’s eyebrows raised in curiosity as he gently loosened his grip on her. "Oh yeah?".

Ellie grinned, her excitement bubbling over. She reached over to grab the glass she had carefully prepared earlier, holding it up proudly.

Joel scrunched up his nose the moment he smelled the concoction, his face twisting in distaste. "Oh, what the fuck is that?"

Ellie’s grin widened. "Drink up, it’s aspirin shit," she said, trying to hide her laughter.

Joel shot her a look that was half-amused, half-disgusted, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Ellie, where did you get all this stuff?" He eyed the glass suspiciously.

Ellie couldn’t help but smile even wider. "Drink it, and I’ll tell you."

Joel sighed dramatically, but Ellie could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, even though he was still scrunching his nose at the smell. He turned the glass in his hand, clearly not thrilled with the idea, and finally muttered, "Ah, but it smells so fucking nasty."

Ellie laughed out loud then, unable to contain herself. "You’re such a baby," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "C’mon, just drink it. It’ll make you feel better."

Joel grumbled but finally took a sip, his face contorting as the foul liquid hit his tongue. He groaned dramatically, pulling the glass away from his mouth and giving her a look that was half-pained, half-exasperated.

Ellie couldn't hold back anymore, letting out a soft giggle.

Joel shot her a sideways glance. "You better not be poisoning me, kid," he muttered, though there was affection in his voice.

"No promises," she teased.

Ellie clapped her hands with a mischievous grin. "It’s TIME FOR SHREK!"

Joel groaned dramatically, his head sinking deeper into the pillows, though the smile that tugged at his lips couldn’t be ignored. "You're killin' me, kid," he mumbled, but he couldn’t stop the soft chuckle that followed.

She was already rushing toward the TV, her excitement contagious. "Tommy’s gonna get us food so settle in, man!" Ellie squeaked in delight as the opening credits of Shrek blared on the screen.

Joel rolled his eyes, shaking his head at her enthusiasm, but even that couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through his chest.

As she dashed back toward him, Joel instinctively made space for her on the couch. She wriggled her way under the blanket, her small body tucking in beside him. Ellie settled in with a satisfied sigh, leaning against his side, and Joel couldn’t help but melt. He couldn’t describe it—how much he loved this kid.

His arm wrapped around her shoulders without a second thought, pulling her just a little closer.

He felt her little head rest against his shoulder (like Sarah had done all those years ago).

He could stay like this forever.