Chapter Text
In Boston everything was red and gray. Brick and concrete, blood and the overcast sky. The highest points, close enough to the edge of the city to really see over the wall, offered the distant promise of green. It felt special then, novel, sort of magical, the way things can be when they’re still more the picture in your head than they are really in front of you.
Everything is green out here. The fields and the forest. Or Brown. The dead grass and trees. The aging blood at the edges of the bandage, wrapped around her bicep up to her shoulder.
A branch snaps back and hits her square across the chest, twigs and choking verdant greenery scratching at her face.
“Jesse,” Ellie splutters, pushing and ducking to wriggle her way out of the tangled web of wood and foliage.
“Sorry.” Jesse apologizes tersely, pulling his mare to an easy stop. He reaches back to tug on the branch until she’s free.
They were heading back, finally , hours late and losing daylight by the fucking minute. She needed the shift to be over . They both did. She was in a mood. Jesse could tell she was in a mood. He was offering nothing but sidelong, narrow glances to bait her into talking. But he was in a mood too. His expression was carefully blank, a tight pinch to the set of his lips, the suggestion of proper worry lines between his eyebrows, still. She’d bet her precious remaining honeycomb that he was choking on another apology, like she asked him too. Maybe a lecture. She couldn’t tell if he was more worried or pissed, having spent the last couple of hours watching him oscillate between the two until they settled into this. Pissed, tired, relieved, worried - an uncomfortable silence.
“‘S fine,” she grumbles.
They walk on until the high walls of home coming into view over the rolling hills that greedily carve into the horizon from their position in the valley. The open field is still half dead because they’re still on the wrong side of spring, and painted orange with the falling sunset.
They’d gone over their plan while they waited back at the outpost, after clearing out the bodies. When he still wasn’t sure she wouldn’t turn. She didn’t blame him. But he believed her enough to wait forty-five minutes, an hour, two, and watched for himself as her bite faded to a regular angry red, with short tendrils that stopped growing after half an inch snaking over the glimpse of exposed muscle, pushing just under her skin.
“Smoke when we get back?” She asks.
Jesse blows out a breath, half a chuckle, surprised, “Yeah. After we get through this debrief we’re gonna need it.”
Ellie scowls, sour. It’s the last thing she wants to deal with, playing twenty questions with whoever met them at the gate and then with Tommy or Maria or Jesse’s mom.
“Could’ve been worse.” She says. “At least it was just infected. Just me. And we’re not telling anyone about the bite, obviously. Patrols get held up all the time.”
“Right.“ Jesse huffs. “What are we saying? Just took our time putting them down.”
“It took longer than we thought,” Ellie confirms. “That’s all we have to say. Don’t start making shit up. Just keep it boring.”
“I know,” Jesse replies, gruff. “I just hate lying to your dad.”
Ellie rolls her eyes, clenches her jaw against some snappy spiteful thing that Jesse doesn’t deserve. Tonight. Of course Joel would probably be there, chomping at the bit to get to her just to stand around looking miserable the way he did.
“Not your dad, sorry.” Jesse corrects quickly. “He might be dead to you, but I still have to ride out with him twice a week.”
“Sucks for you.”
After a moment Jesse says, haltingly. “For what it’s worth, he misses you.”
“Sucks for him.”
A smattering of dots emerge from the gate, horses, riders.
“Perfect timing,” Jesse says, more chipper than she feels. “At least we got back before they sent anyone out.”
Ellie growls low in her throat, frustrated. Pre-emptively furious. It sits heavy in her chest, pushes up her throat. She can see the Millers triangulate toward each other, off to the side, the rest of the group getting their own assignments for the kind of organized sweep dictated by a missing patrol.
They were that late. Which they knew. The shift going out would have seem their check in unsigned, their horses’ empty stalls, they’d have raised the alarm with as little drama as they could manage because Jackson took losing people like buckshot to the chest in the way that they all bent over backwards with protocols and routines and training to avoid it. Maria said it was because they’d all lost plenty, and fighting not to lose any more was part of what kept them all going. She could almost convince herself that she was an unlucky recipient of the general fanfare just because she happened to live in town and not because Maria was Maria and sort of her Aunt or because Tommy and Joel hovered over anything that didn’t seem quite right like they didn’t have better things to do.
Sometimes it was nice, but being a random citizen had its appeal at times like these, when she might otherwise be able to sneak back in. She was sore. Her bad shoulder was worse by miles. The occasional residual ache compounded by the fresh wound. Shredded muscle supporting a busted joint. She could feel the grit and gore caked on her skin no matter how clean it looked after Jesse insisted they take their time before mounting up again. Though she was certain by now that her bandage was soaked through. Tolerating the pain and exhaustion and being fussed over, in her worst moments, was the kind of thing that made her think about taking up residence in some distant outpost. But that would mean no pastries, no warm bed, no hot shower. No shithead best friend, she thinks, glancing at Jesse.
It’s just been a stupid shift, she reminds herself. No reason to throw it all away before rinsing off and getting some sleep. A clinic to steal supplies from was also a plus.
Stray infected weren’t yet rare enough for them to have had so much trouble. It was the first they’d seen of anything in months, but they’d seen plenty. She and Jesse together have been in tighter spots with a better outcome. It was just their dumb luck.
She’d never seen a runner so fucking close to town, especially not in the juniors outpost. It was basically the only one under 20s were allowed to station at in pairs, and for good reason. She could recite the incident log from memory. Three years a go, 1 runner, last summer, a stalker, today 5 fucking runners. No injuries. Not officially.
Blood trickles down her elbow and she shakes her arm lightly, trying to catch it with the loose fabric of Jesse’s flannel so it wouldn’t drip from her wrist. The last thing they need is someone offering help with that . The movement has the muscle seizing painfully and her jaw snaps shut against it with a force that rattles through her whole head.
She lost her favorite fucking shirt, with the bite torn out of its shoulder. She huffs, angry. It was warm and blue and would need replacing in her decidedly minimalist wardrobe. It was evidence, so they burned it.
“You good?” Jesse asks, looking her over again. He swore he believed her, wasn’t waiting for her to turn after the first two miserable hours, sitting across from each other inside of the outpost. She didn’t blame him for double checking.
“Fine,” she grits out. “Let’s get this over with.”
Jesse sighs, nods in agreement. Ellie reminds herself that his day might be considered worse. He thought she was going to die and she was too pissed at herself for not being able to dodge the bite to dig into what it all meant. That he shattered when he thought he was going to have to put her down. The rollercoaster of terror of it, disbelief, the joy when they decided that the fungal threads edging the wound weren’t spreading any further. He raises their flag, faded green, all good. Still, the would be search party kicks dust, descending on them with a flurry of questions and concern.
“Ellie,” Joel bellows, pulling his horse to a skidding halt.
His hair is a mess, eyes wild, the twin worry lines etched across his forehead are cavernous. Maybe once that would’ve been a relief, seeing him after such a shit day. How much he cares about her. It still is, she realizes bitterly, as much as she hates it. He ruined her life and still has the audacity to get like this. To make her feel wanted and safe when all he really cares about is whether or not he gets to see her walk by his window every fucking day. Not enough to acknowledge what he did. Like that would change anything. She swallows bites back the snarl she has in response to his greeting and ignores him.
Her eyes cut to Tommy, who looks about the same. Just hiding it better. “Are ya’ll okay?” Tommy asks coming up along side him without the rodeo style theatrics.
“We’re fine.” Ellie answers coolly, looking to Jesse who nods his agreement.
“Well something happened.” Maria says. They’re upright and talking. So they clearly look fine enough to be interrogated.
Ellie answers robotically, before Jesse can go into too much detail with the whole story instead of the flat report they needed to let them go home. “We ran into three infected in the utility shed near the junior outpost. Two more by the creek there. Took us a minute to put ‘em down.”
Maria eyes eyes go wide, then narrow. Joel is still looking her over like he thinks she might fall straight off her horse.
“That would explain an hour late, maybe two, but not four.” Maria presses. “What else?”
Jesse cleared his throat, looking at Ellie, half pleading her to say something because he promised that he wouldn’t.
“What,” Joel asks him directly.
Jesse shakes his head, “Oh, I don’t -“
“Quit lookin’ at her.” Joel snaps at him. “You were there. What happened?”
Jesse is going to break. Tommy would say he looked like a deer in headlights. Frozen. It would be funny If they hadn’t had the day they just survived. If it weren’t Joel digging into him like that.
Ellie resigns to put him out of his misery. It’s the least she can do.
“We had a -“ Ellie trails off, scanning for prying ears, the rest of the search party seems to have retreated back through the gate. She looks directly at Joel for the first time in close to six months as she says it, because she knows he’ll remember. “We had a sort of a Halloween store type of situation out there.” She nods to Jesse and scans back to Tommy and Maria, finding recognition and horror in their eyes. “Jesse wanted to wait, just to be careful. I figured it was a good call. It’s been….a while. All good though.”
The air goes cold between them, everybody goes tense. Suddenly there’s a flicker of fear, of uncertainty. This had been discussed, once, with the grave tone it might warrant if she weren’t actually immune, between the three of them, what she ought to do if she was bitten again. How the town might want to handle it if they found out.
All eyes go to Jesse, who she told an hour ago was the only one who knew about her hoping that it would keep him from panicking and telling everyone she was hurt. She wanted a shower. At this point maybe a drink.
“So they do know,” he turns on her. “I should’ve figured. No way you’d keep something like that from Joel.”
Ellie pulls her horse around the other side of him, away from the Millers, her lips curl down as she bites. “I keep plenty from Joel.” It sounds childish as soon as she says it. She swallows, slows up, determined to finish this out like the adult she is. “Look if this is all settled - “
“Ellie, wait.” Maria demands, pushing her mare around to cut her off, standing between her and the gates. “You can’t go back in.”
“The hell she can’t,” Joel argues, coming to her side. The massive chestnut thing he’s on blusters sharply at his rough handling. Joel doesn’t notice. “She ain’t gonna get sick, Maria. You know that.”
“She can’t go back in, yet ,” Maria says. “Can I finish?”
His jaw clicks shut.
Tommy looks like he’d rather be bit than here. It’s ridiculous that she has to be bit and here.
“It has been years,” Maria tells him. “So it is unlikely to be an issue. However, as a precaution,” she says, turning back to Ellie, “Why don’t you and Tommy spend the night at the empty farmhouse and come back in the morning.” Maria tells her, kindly, firmly. It’s a directive, not a suggestion. She will take any out she can get.
“Fine with me.” Ellie agrees.
Maria continues, eyes flicking over to Tommy and then back to her, “Joel will go along as backup.”
“No.” Ellie argues. Tommy looks away. Joel is still mostly staring at her, glassy eyed and worried about all the wrong things.
“It’s not up for debate.” Joel says, decisively, staring her down along with Maria. Like it’s a bold stance for him to take, being up her ass.
The anger so expertly wrangled in spite of the pain, the guilt, the exhaustion, slips. “For what,” Ellie laughs, harshly, splintering. “It’s a 10 minute ride, the house is fully stocked, and clear because we just fucking passed it. What are you going to do that me and Tommy can’t? What do you need to be there for other than to piss me off?”
“Because I still give a shit if you live or die, Ellie.” He barks. “So you’re gonna have to excuse me for wanting to stay close after you - “
“Alright,” Maria cuts him off.
There were old cartoons on some of the tapes at the community trading center. Red faces and thick gray steam billowing from people’s ears. She makes them look like dozing children. Peaceful by comparison. She growls, “Fuck off with the guilt trip, asshole - “
Maria pushes her mare between them, holding out a hand to her, calling them off, sharply. “Enough.”
The both fall silent, fuming to themselves. Maria levels her with an unapologetic glare, “Let’s get this right.” Ellie huffs and rolls her eyes. Maria ignores her and continues. “There are, by your admission, stray infected on our territory. You are injured.” She says pointedly, pausing. “My husband will have able bodied backup for an overnight stay outside of the wall. Do you understand me?”
“So Jesse comes.” Ellie insists.
Jesse nods, easy, seemingly unaffected by the tension. She can feel that he’s crawling out of his skin, wanting out of this not half as much as she does, but enough. “For sure - I - “ Maria’s glare swings his way and cuts him off. He looks back to Ellie with a grimace. “Can’t. Because. I have a thing?” He looks back to Maria for approval.
She nods, approved. Ellie’s stomach drops. Maria waves him along. “No problem, Jesse, Joel can go. Why don’t you go take care of your thing.”
“Traitor,” Ellie hisses.
“I’m sorry,” Jesse whispers back, loudly. He walks off, leaves her there with the wolves. After she saved his life.
“Ya’ll might as well go on.” Maria prompts. “You’ll lose the light, but it’s not so far if you can manage to get through the valley without killing each other.”
“No promises,” Ellie grumbles, pulling off. She swings Shimmer around and digs her heels into her sides. The wind smacks her across the cheeks, billows through her hair with the sudden burst of speed. She tucks herself low into the saddle and makes the most of the short pause to squeeze her legs, already trembling with muscle fatigue, close to her body. If anyone calls out after her, she doesn’t hear it. Her whole arm aches . Her ass is numb. Her shoulder jostles, seizes, and settles until she figures out how to manage holding its position. It doesn’t hurt badly enough to risk talking to the fucking Miller brothers, so she doesn’t slow down until the farmhouse comes into view.
When she finally dismounts just outside, still and standing for the first time in hours, it’s worse. She wanted to rot in her own bed, alone. Dealing with Joel was rough on a good day. Dealing with Joel when she already feels like shit seemed like a specific kind of hell she really doesn’t think she’s earned. He and Tommy pull up at a blistering pace a few minutes later, staring her down and obviously itching to tell her off for bolting like that. Neither of them do, picking their battles wisely, she guesses.
Ellie stood off to the side, she’d unbuckled Shimmer’s saddle, and picked at her bridle, but untacking a horse really is a two-handed job. She moves to pull her hair out of her face and freezes, lowering her arm reflexively with a pained growl.
Joel dismounts quickly, passing his reins to Tommy who takes them without a word. He walks up to her and just stands there.
“Let me get that,” he says. Too soft. It pisses her off again, that he thinks he can just do that. Show up out of nowhere being gentle. Helping her. Like he can’t fathom that it might just be some sick reminder of how they were before he ruined everything. He still doesn’t reach out, waiting for her to offer him something. The reigns or her hair tie or whatever twisted idea of forgiveness he thinks he can get from her now.
She addresses Tommy instead. “Will you help me with this?”
Joel just works his jaw, swallowing whatever was trying to push its way out. She didn’t care, anymore. She couldn’t.
Tommy gives her that same half-sad, half-frustrated look he’s been getting on the rare occasion that they talk about Joel. Still he ties off his horse and Joel’s and then takes Shimmer’s reins from her hands too. “Go rinse off and dig around for some clean clothes, then we’ll take a look at you.”
Joel is in the kitchen when she comes down, sitting by the fireplace and tending a heavy cast iron pot. He only half glances up at her when she walks in before standing abruptly to pull the first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink, which he slides straight across the counter to Tommy.
Good, she thinks. Maybe they can just give each other the silent treatment until morning. That she might be able to work with.
“Alright, kiddo, let’s see the damage,” Tommy says, cheerful as ever. It’s forced, though. Pinched in a way that it isn’t when things aren’t so fucked. He drags out a chair from the refinished table set that looks a lot like most of the furniture in Jackson. The color of raw wood and minutely misshapen in different places. Like someone probably spent a lot of time on it, but never could get it perfect the way they wanted.
Ellie sits on the table and puts her feet on the chair, then pulls up the hem of a too big T-shirt she grabbed out of the little dresser in the one good bedroom, bunching the fabric over her shoulder. The new bandage is still clean and loose because she knew she’d have to undo it again, but leaving it open made her stomach turn, even just to come down the stairs. She wishes he would take her word that it was clean enough. Would do anything to avoid the worried looks and the kind of gentle touch that made her chest hurt, but she was out of luck.
“How’d you tie this off?” He asks, picking at the knot.
“Teeth.”
“Well look at you.” Tommy chuckles lightly. A glimmer of worry.
Ellie swallows, suddenly nervous as he unraps the bandage. “You’ve never seen a fresh bite before, I bet.” She distracts. It’s one of the things she’s best at. With officers asking her questions about where she’s been and little kids who don’t get why they have to eat that . With the Miller’s and Jesse’s who don’t seem to get that something like this is essentially still a vacation compared to where she’s been.
Tommy cocks his head, peeling away the patch of clean fabric she’d taken from the first aid kit in the bathroom. “Not so close, no. At least not long enough to look at it any good.”
She didn’t really think it was going to be a problem. She felt like shit in the usual beat up after a stupid day kind of way. It ached like she gota chunk torn out of her shoulder. If it was going to get worse, it would have sometime between putting the thing down and Jesse having a panic attack waiting for the winding threads of mycelium that wriggled through the wound to extend more than a couple of inches.
She watches Tommy’s face smoothe over in a way that meant it was hiding more than it was showing. He held her arm gently just below it, fingers hovering for a moment before reaching back to the first aid kit to grab a rag, cleaning up the fresh bloodied edges, re-opened by her cursory wipe down upstairs. The bite looks exactly the same, maybe more swollen, the whisper of a bruise setting in around the edges and in the form of finger prints higher on her shoulder where it had grabbed her.
“So?” She asks. “What do you think?”
Joel is still working tersely over the fireplace, pretending that he isn’t paying attention.
Tommy’s eyes are fixated on it. He grimaces and then looks up at her, “That’s good stuff, kiddo.”
“Why thank you,” she replies, like it was a compliment.
Joel huffs. Definitely listening.
“What do you think?” Tommy asks her, quietly, running a thumb along the side of it, feather-light and far enough from the wound’s edge that she can barely feel it. “It looks the same?”
“Still gross.” Ellie confirms.
“Still gross.” Tommy echoes. “I’ll take it.” He exhales heavily, looking up at her for a moment with some expression she can’t place. Relief, and maybe like he was tired in that world-weary way that crept up on all of them when things like this happened.
“Jesse marked the end of the lines when he cleaned it out, right after.” Ellie tells him. “They washed off in the shower, but they didn’t spread anymore. The other two didn’t either, after the first couple of hours.”
Tommy looks at her, still tense. “Okay. I trust you.”
“You can check again later tonight if you want to.” Ellie offers. “I get it. Third time could be the charm.”
His face falls, properly, for the first time that night.
“Don’t worry, man.” She says, quickly. “I’m a fun girl, not a fungi.” She elbows him with her good arm.
He clears his throat, shakes his head, plasters on a little smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well it didn’t improve your sense of humor, that’s for sure.”
“There’s nothing to improve on.” Ellie says decisively. “I’m hysterical. Always have been.”
“Mhm,” Tommy hums.
Joel must run out of patience then, coming to leer over Tommy’s shoulder.
“Christ,” Joel hisses through his teeth.
It was worse than her earlier bites. Worse than she’d ever had by a mile. Not just a stray tooth or half a dental imprint. None of them say that though. It got a hold of her. She’d pulled away without thinking, and flesh versus teeth played out the way it always does. It was a collection of deep, but thankfully narrow enough lacerations where it had sunk its teeth into the muscle of her arm. Open from her initial frantic tug, but not gaping. Joel looked like he was in pain just from staring at it. She’d take a bite a hundred times worse than this one for him to stop looking at her like that.
“Where was Jesse for all this?” Joel asks, low and accusatory in a way that she didn’t appreciate.
“Behind me.” Ellie answers evenly. She doesn’t need to look at their faces to hear the reaction. “He got his knife into it before it took my arm off. I think we’re even.”
Tommy clears his throat, “Sounds like ya’ll were in a tough spot.” He looks back at her for confirmation.
She gives it with a nod, still coiled and ready to beat back Joel’s argument. Are you trying to get yourself killed echoes through her head without him needing to say it. Like she’s the only person who matters in the whole world. As if letting Jesse take the bite instead wouldn’t have killed her just the same. If he’d let her make a cure, maybe she could have, because Jesse would’ve been immune too. If he wants to insist on laying blame for this at her feet, she’ll kick it right back to him.
Joel exhales, slow and controlled, his hands are shaking. They must notice at the same time because he quickly clenches them into fists, stretches them out, and steps away. “It needs stitches.” He grunts, walking back to the fireplace where water is just starting to boil
“It could abscess if we close it. Best to leave it open.” Tommy says. “Lucky girl. No needles tonight.”
“Score.”
Joel scoffs.
“We’ll get you some antibiotics tomorrow.” Tommy says. “Maria will pull some favors at the clinic.”
Ellie nods, silent, already zoning out.
He keeps talking, filling the silence for all of them because as much as she and Joel could stew in the tension out of spite, he clearly couldn’t stand it. Ellie clicks back in when he gives her arm a squeeze. “Let’s figure you out a sling so you’re not pulling at it too much.”
“Okay,” Ellie slides down from the counter. “Then can I go to bed?”
“After you eat,” Tommy promises. Turning to dig through the first aid kit, pulling out a bright green strip of fabric, cut into the shape of a massive triangle. He folds it back down to a more useful size, and she’s content to pretend that Joel isn’t there at all.
She bites the inside of her cheek. “Any chance there’s some painkillers in there?” She asks, low, so only Tommy can hear. Joel getting up in arms about how she feels is the last thing she wants to deal with, if they have to share the house for the night.
Tommy sets the makeshift sling off to the side and digs through the kit. “Just an emergency stash, nothing light,” he says, pulling out a worn plastic bag labeled with black ink. “Lookin’ at this too long would put you out ‘til morning.”
“Never mind, then.” Ellie sighs.
“It’s there if you want it, later.” Tommy tells her. “Just let me know. No reason to tough it out on principle.”
“Sure.” She agrees. He said shit like that a lot. Usually about things that didn’t really matter. She’d white-knuckled worse on less food, less sleep. There was still a non-zero chance that she’d roll over on this thing and wake up worse off than she wanted to be. It had been over a year since her last proper injury, she realizes. Maybe that’s why she felt so bad, her pain tolerance was lower. She was comfortable. Ellie doesn’t say as much out loud. Tommy would just tell her that was a good thing, and she wouldn’t be able to argue that it wasn’t.
“Dinner’s ready..” Joel says gruffly, still sitting by the fire.
Ellie looks up at Tommy, who nods, waves away the ask before she can voice it. He comes back to the kitchen table with two bowls of beef stew, or soup. It was thinner than what they got back home and almost too salty. But it was warm and the broth was light enough that she was comfortable choking it down.
Joel spends the whole meal looking over at her and acting like he’s not. She can see him in the corner of her eye, even though most of her focus is on talking shit with Tommy about how crushed the junior patrollers are going to be this upcoming summer when the esteemed “solo” paired patrol route is re-assigned as a group task that needs a ranking member’s supervision.
“I guess they’ll just have to drink somewhere else.” Ellie muses.
Tommy rolls his eyes. “No one’s really drinking out there.”
Ellie raises her eyebrows, puckers her lips. You sure about that?
“Right?” Tommy looks up, insistent.
He cuts her off before she can answer.
“I don’t wanna know,” he looks down quickly, digging back into his stew.
They fall into an easier silence, then. Everyone is tired. They’ve gotten over the insurmountable ice between them, given the circumstances. The fire crackles warmly in the other room, flickering and painting the walls and reflecting in the windows the same sort of sunset orange. They’d set up a few of the little lamps stashed in the kitchen cabinets, the kind that would make the whole house smell a little like old grease if they weren’t doctored with some other scent. These ones were definitely pine-y, so it really just smelled like one of the outpost cabins further into the woods.
Joel finishes his bowl, stands gruffly to cross the room and toss in on the counter next to the sink with a clatter. He leaves them with a terse “I’ll take first watch.” Like they needed to take watches out here. With secure, lockable doors, so close to Jackson, and so far out from anything else. He just wanted to get out of the fucking house, Ellie thinks. Couldn’t stand that she and Tommy could still talk and be normal. He slams the door behind him with so much force that it rattles the frame.
Tommy’s head snaps around looking over his shoulder at the noise. He sighs.
“Someone’s pissed.” Ellie ventures.
“Yeah,” Tommy scoffs. “You scared the shit out of us today, Ellie, but sounds like you and Jesse took care of it. Shit happens. Getting pissy about it don’t help anyone.”
“Thank you,” She exclaims.
The gentle sound of metal spoons scraping against ceramic fills the space between them for one long moment, before Tommy leans back, pushing his empty bowl out on the table. “Speaking of how being pissy like that don’t help anyone - “
Ellie sighs. Great , she thinks. Just what she needs.
“He’s trying to be here for you.”
That’s all he ever did, she thinks, fuming. Try. Try to make up for what he did. But he thinks he saved her life. He told her he’d do it again. He could try to talk to her, or try to be there for her, but, he never once considered that what she needed from him was the thing she fucking asked for. His trying was worse than if he just left her alone.
Ellie scoffs. “Can he stop?”
Tommy throws up a hand, frustrated and annoyed. Like this is her fault. “We’re coming up on two years of this, kiddo. Plural. Multiple years of whatever the hell this is between the two of you - “
“Whatever the hell this is?” Ellie echoes, hurt. “Fuck you, Tommy. You know what he did - “
“No, Ellie, I don’t.” Tommy exclaims, blustering. “I don’t. No one does. Both of you clam right up. You say ask him, and he says he saved you. What are we supposed to do with that?”
Ellie scowls, “He’s so full of shit - “
“No one is arguing that,” Tommy promises. “Look, this ain’t just between you and him anymore. Ya’ll have everyone in this goddamn family walking on eggshells and all we want is to help.”
“No one has to walk on eggshells or help.” Ellie counters. “If it’s so fucking hard - “
“Don’t do that,” Tommy cuts her off. “Don’t act like you’re not a part of this family or like you two being at each other’s throats all the time doesn’t affect me or Maria or Jesse or Dina - It ain’t fair for you to suffer like this and it sure as hell ain’t fair to us.”
“Suffering is a bit much.”
“Is it?” Tommy asks, “Ellie, honey, you may not like it, but you and him are exactly the same kind of stubborn when you’re hurt which is bad news for all of us because something has got to give.”
Ellie scowls, “I’m nothing like him.”
“Then prove it,” Tommy challenges. “Talk to me.”
The flare of anger and sorrow that bursts in her chest isn’t one she can contain, feeling like a chew toy. Hurt and pissed off. Like she’s a kid again, and not almost twenty. She breaks.
“He lied, Tommy,” Ellie snarls. There’s a heat in her cheeks and tears blurring her vision before she knows it’s happening. It’s too late to stop it all from tumbling out. “I begged him to tell me what happened and he still lied . He looked right at me and swore - . ” She chokes back a sob. “He lied and then he kept lying and he keeps acting like it doesn’t fucking matter and like something is wrong with me for not just magically getting over it.” She cuts herself off, wipes angrily at tears streaking down her cheeks “He doesn’t get to do that to me and then act like suddenly coming out with it fixes everything.”
Tommy looks dumbstruck, eyes soft and sad, “Ellie.”
“Everyone acts like I started being a bitch to him out of nowhere,” She keens, the dam broken. “I tried everything . I gave him so many chances , Tommy. Fuck , even if he brought all the Fireflies back to life and actually figured out how to make a cure , he still spent years , plural, lying to me about what happened.” She sucks in a breath, swallows thickly and croaks, “I didn’t want it to be like this. He was always an asshole, but I trusted him and he knew that was a big fucking deal to me and he still lied. Over and over again. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with that.”
Tommy swallows, sighs, and rubs a hand down his face. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” His eyes are glassy now too. “That dumb motherfucker,” he groans, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”
Ellie swallows another sob, tucks her arms around herself.
“He swore?” Tommy asks, in disbelief.
Ellie clenches her jaw and nods, more tears.
Tommy stands and walks around the table, pulls her up and into his chest. “He shouldn’t have done that.” He sighs, resting his chin on top of her head.
Ellie heaves in a breath. “I know,” she sobs.
“He was just trying to protect you, Els.”
“He didn’t,” Ellie croaks.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Tommy assures her. “Look - “ he steps back, rubs a thumb over her wet cheek. “It’s been a hell of a day. You oughta go up to bed. Get some rest.”
Ellie blows out a breath, and nods. “I’m sorry.” She says, still watery, half-embarassed.
“Don’t be,” Tommy insists. “Seems like you’ve been holding on to that for a while.”
She had been, she realizes, and the fact that Tommy seemed to be on her side made her feel two tons lighter. “He can’t undo it,” she says quietly, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
“I know.” Tommy says, pulling back. “But it’ll be alright. You oughta get some sleep.”
Ellie hums in agreement.
“We’re gonna stay down here.” He says, “Yell if you need something, okay?”
“Sure.”