Work Text:
Ellie is sick to death of walking. They’ve been on the move for hours, travelling down the highway, weaving between abandoned cars. Joel walks alongside her, trudging along in mostly silence. She tries asking him questions to get him to talk more. Sometimes she can get him to answer questions about the pre-infection world.
He was a carpenter, she learns. She isn’t actually sure what that means until he explains it, in great detail. He seems to like talking about it, about the intricacies of a simpler life. Although he never talks about anyone he knew before the apocalypse happened, except in passing mentions. She wonders how many of those people are dead now.
“Let's stop here a minute.” Joel says. They have reached a sheltered bench, with a sign that says Bus Stop .
“What’s this for?” She asks, peering at the decaying timetable taped to the back wall.
“It’s so people know when the buses are comin’.” Joel shucks his backpack and sits down on the bench.
“There’s so many.” Ellie traces the routes along the faded map beside the time table. “We had one at the academy, to bring new kids in from the orphanages.”
“Yeah, you could get most places on one of those. They were better in the city though.” Joel pats the bench beside him. “Sit.”
Ellie shrugs her backpack off her shoulders, then swings it around by one strap so she can put it down on the ground at her feet. Halfway through the motion, the bottom seam of the backpack splits open, sending her belongings skittering across the floor.
“Oh, fuck off!” She complains, scrambling to pick everything up.
“I got it.” Joel helps her gather everything up into a pile and then assesses the state of her bag.
The seam is torn, but not irreparable. Riley could sew, would often repair rips and tears in various items of clothing for the other girls at the academy. Getting new things was rare, so they learned to make do and mend.
But Ellie never learned how to sew, and she feels a pit of dread building up inside her that her backpack is done for. Where are they gonna find another one out here?
“Fuck.” Ellie mumbles.
“Hold on.” Joel digs through his own backpack until he finds a roll of duct tape. “Lemme try this. Ain’t gonna hold forever but it’ll do.”
Ellie holds the two sides of the bag together while Joel layers duct tape over it, making the seam secure again. Once he’s done, Ellie puts all her stuff back in her backpack, closes it and swings it around a bit to make sure it’s secure.
“It worked!” She exclaimed, finally slumping down on the bench.
“Ain’t gotta sound so surprised.” Joel mumbles.