Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s on day two of staying at Tommy and Maria’s for the week when Ellie realizes that things might ultimately go to shit. 

Tommy and Maria are pretty cool, actually. It took her a little while to realize that. To be fair, though, the competition isn’t that fierce. Joel is decidedly uncool in everything he does, like watching his boring movies, hanging out on porches with the dads of the other kids in her class, or squinting stubbornly at a paper instead of putting on his old-man glasses. He’s lame, big time. 

Tommy isn’t lame, though. Tommy takes her out shooting, wrestles with her in a gentle way she didn’t even know existed, and laughs at all her jokes. Maria isn’t either. She’s the smartest person Ellie knows, and she’s fucking awesome at Boggle. 

This realization makes a lot of things easier. Such as staying with them whenever Joel has to go on a longer patrol, like he is this week. And the first two days have been easy. She still does all of her normal shit, like going to school and working the stables. She just runs around with Tommy for a couple hours after, which she already did sometimes anyway. Plus, she has full-time access to the baby now. And Maria actually has answers to the random questions that pop into her head (although she still thinks she was messing with her about there being a bird called a peacock).

Everything is fine. 

Until she wakes up Sunday morning, and first thing she’s aware of is how fucking cold Maria and Tommy’s guest room feels, even though she went to sleep with long-sleeves, socks, and a closed window. She burrows deeper into her blankets and curls in on herself, trying to take in any remaining warmth. 

The second thing she’s aware of is the fact that her stomach hurts. It’s cramping like it does on her period, all rocking and growly. But this ache pierces straight to her gut.

She lays in bed for another minute, running through everything in her head. She had her period two weeks ago, and she doesn’t feel any blood between her thighs. The dining hall is always meticulous about food prep, and that’s where she ate dinner yesterday. Dina was sick a few days ago, though. And Benji and Tommy were sick last week. 

Okay. She can figure this out. She always has. 

Back with FEDRA, being sick used to mean trying not to collapse in line, or being isolated for days if it was bad enough. If it happened to you repeatedly, you were gone. That’s why Alyssa disappeared. And Grace. And Morgan. 

But it’s different with Joel, just like a lot of things are. She’s had a few fevers since starting school, and he’d taken off from work each time just to fuss over her the whole day. It was a little annoying, but it also felt… nice. And safe. Like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

Joel will be back in five days, and she’ll just keep it together until then. Easy.

She pushes herself up and forces herself to pull off her covers, a shiver creeping up her spine. The air outside the blankets is even colder than inside. That’s fine. She can just wear a jacket today. She speeds through getting dressed and brushing her teeth, taking every-other step on her way downstairs. Her stomach has settled some since waking up. Now she’s just really fucking cold, even after throwing on the thickest sweater she has. 

Of course, all eyes are on her the moment she steps into the kitchen. Even the baby’s, from where he’s currently strapped into his high chair with eggs mashed between his fingers. 

“Morning,” Tommy says, setting a plate down at the empty spot on the table. “Was just about to call you down.” 

“Morning.” She sits down, avoiding everyone’s gazes. 

Tommy and Maria eat breakfast together every morning, since they’re always too busy for lunch together and usually too busy for dinner too. It’s the opposite of Ellie and Joel, who eat dinner together every day. Different houses have different rules, Joel’s told her repeatedly, usually after she complains about Jesse or Dina being able to do something she can’t, like stand on the walls with the guards or go frog-catching at the stream after dark (still unfair). 

Breakfast has been kind of nice the past few days. But right now, she wants nothing more than to dump her whole plate in the trash. It’s piled high with eggs and squash, golden and steaming. Just the smell makes her stomach start to cramp with renewed vengeance. 

She picks bits of egg out of the baby’s hair instead of eating, not paying much attention to Tommy and Maria’s discussion about some feud that's been going on at the greenhouses. 

“Ellie?” Maria pauses the conversation after a minute, redirecting her attention towards her. “You look flushed.” 

Shit.

“My head was squished against the pillows,” she says. “And I went to sleep with like, a shit ton of blankets.” That much is true, at least. 

Maria gives her a nod. “Also, your shirt’s on backwards.” 

She looks down. The tag of her shirt is visible through the gap between the fabric and her chest. She sighs and stands up, turning towards the stairs to go up and fix it. She pauses at Maria’s raised eyebrow. “What?” 

“You can just pull your arms in through the sleeves and turn it the right way.”

“Oh.”

That feels pretty obvious now that she’s heard of it. She wonders how she never realized it before, especially after taking more than a few slaps when she was younger for putting her clothes on backwards before leaving her dorm. 

She gets her shirt on the right way and focuses on squishing her fork through her eggs, scattering them across the plate. A piece of squash gets knocked off and rolls to the floor. Maria and Tommy’s cat scurries over out of nowhere to bat it around. 

“You ain’t eating much,” Tommy says, and she resists the urge to groan. Of course everyone has to be all alert and observational this morning. 

“I’m not that hungry, it’s early.” 

“Ain’t ever stopped you—”

“—Leave her be.” Maria, surprisingly, comes to her rescue, giving Tommy a look. He goes quiet. Maria’s the only person in the world who can make Tommy shut up. It’s a gift she sometimes graces the rest of them with, as Joel put it once. 

The rest of breakfast goes by without a hitch. She takes advantage of the distraction provided by the baby deciding to drop the rest of his eggs from his highchair to scrape her plate into the trash, escaping upstairs. 

Thank god it isn’t a school day. 

She takes the map she brought with her from on top of the dresser, curling up in bed with it. Joel was supposed to be at the big fucking lakes yesterday, according to the schedule he had given her before he left. He’ll make it to Canyon Village today. 

It all seems so far as she traces her finger over the route. But it’s barely anything compared to what they’ve walked before.

Just five more days. Then he’s home. 

A knock on the door startles her and she rolls out of bed to sit on the floor instead. “Come in!”

The door creaks open, Tommy peeking his head inside. Benji is half-dressed in his arms, wearing a fancy button-up shirt with just a diaper on beneath, his bare little legs dangling in the air. “Howdy.” 

She pushes herself to her feet. “Hey. What’s up?” 

“We were gonna head down to church,” he says. “You’re welcome to join us.” 

Right. She and Joel never go to church, but different houses, different rules, or whatever. 

She forces herself not to wince as another cramp rolls through her stomach, shooting him what she hopes is a bright smile. “Yeah. Sure.” 

It’ll give her more baby time, at least. Benji’s not a huge fan of sitting through anything he’s not the center of attention of, and he usually starts to fuss within a few minutes during any of the council meetings she and Joel have sat with him in while his parents are focused in the front. They always walk him around outside until he calms down. She can’t imagine he’ll be any different in a church service. 

It’s the least she can do for Tommy and Maria right now, with her staying in their house the whole week. 

Tommy leaves to finish changing the baby and she rifles through the clothes she stuffed into her backpack. Most of the people she’s seen going in and out of the church on Sundays have been dressed really nice. She doesn’t have anything fancier here than an unstained green flannel, though. The rest of her clothes across the street aren’t much better. 

She decides to stick with the sweater, shoving her jacket over it. She’s still cold, even under two thick layers. Joel’s always getting on her about wearing her hat, so she puts that on too. 

It only gets colder once everyone’s ready and they step outside, the baby bundled-up to the extreme, Maria and Tommy to a lesser extent. She can see her breath hang in a cloud in front of her. 

Tommy tries to egg her on as they walk, giving her a slight nudge whenever she’s close and occasionally tapping the back of her head. Normally, she’d whip around and try to tackle him. Today, she just keeps walking. He stops after a little while. 

Church is boring, mostly, like town meetings. She sits in one of the ancient pews with her knees pulled to her chest, trying not to drift off while Reverend Prescott drones on and on in his monotone voice. She’s heard him sound like that even when he’s having normal conversations with people. Weird guy. 

She jolts to attention after her head starts to droop, blinking heavily. Just in time to hear the next words out of the reverend’s mouth. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives…”

Her world goes gray. 

He continues talking, his eyes scanning the crowd every few seconds, like he’s looking at each and every one of them all at once. Her stomach turns the next time he glances over her.

She thinks about the lamb and the virgin and other snippets of his preaching she’s caught over the last half an hour. She thinks about the food he brought over to their house a few months ago when Joel wrenched his shoulder. She thinks about his four little daughters, who she taught how to plant seeds in the gardens over the summer.

Bile rises in her throat. 

The baby picks the perfect moment to start fussing, twisting around in Tommy’s arms. She takes advantage of it, reaching for him. 

“I’ve got him,” she whispers.

Tommy snorts. “Knock yourself out.” 

And then she’s free, carrying Benji outside. The first breath of frozen, fresh air is a relief, going easily down her lungs. 

They can’t stay out here that long, cold as it is. But they have a few minutes. She sways back and forth with the baby on her hip, watching people with crates or little children in their arms walk by. 

“Hate to break it to you, but it’s not that interesting out here either,” she says, running a hand through his little curls. 

Benji seems to disagree, coming to rapt attention whenever he sees a horse. She’s never seen his eyes go so wide, as impossibly big as they already are. 

Another cramp rolls through her stomach and she groans, leaning back against the brick wall behind her. Benji gives her what she thinks is a concerned look. “I’ll be okay. You were last week.” 

Well. He’d gone to the clinic for a few hours from what she’d heard. But he was fine. It was nothing like whatever had killed the James’s new baby during the fall. 

People are still sad whenever that gets brought up. 

She walks around the building with him for a few times before going back in. The cold cleared her mind and calmed his body. They’re alright. 

He decides to fall asleep in her arms further into the sermon, drooling against her shoulder. And yeah, anything is worth it if it means more baby time. He’s fucking awesome. He drops random shit and screams and then smiles and looks like the cutest thing in the world. 

She nearly makes it through without incident. There’s maybe ten minutes left when the ache in her stomach becomes too much to ignore. She swallows a few times, shifting uncomfortably. Then she passes the baby to Tommy and heads towards the back doors.

She almost makes it outside in time. 

It hits all at once just by the doorway and she doubles over, unable to stop herself. If this were FEDRA, there’d already be someone yelling at her, screaming to take it to a trashcan and clean up after. Maybe a quick slap across the face, like that would help anything. 

People here just stare. Heat prickles across her cheeks. 

Tommy is at her side in a second, shoving a small trashbin beneath her and tying her hair back in a haphazard ponytail with one of the hair ties he and Joel always seem to magically have around their wrists whenever she needs them. He stands in front of her, blocking her from everyone else’s view. 

Reverend Prescott starts droning on again. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers when she’s done, wiping her sleeve across her mouth. “I’ll clean it up.”

Tommy shakes his head, digging a handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it over. He shrugs his coat off after and wraps it around her shoulders, leading her outside. 

Things feel eerily familiar, all of a sudden. 

Tommy tugs one of his gloves off, pressing his now-bare hand to her forehead. “Goddammit, girl. You’re burnin’ up.” 

She flinches. His hand quickly pulls back. He sits her down on the bench outside the library across the street, tucking his jacket over her better. “I’m gonna go tell Maria we’re heading out. You need to puke again, do it in the snow. Nobody will care.” 

She’s left alone on the bench for the next few minutes. Dread sinks into her stomach, mixing with the nausea. 

Three days. She’s only been here three days and already, she’s managed to make things harder. She pulls her knees to her chest and drops her head against them, closing her eyes. Maybe, if she sleeps long enough, Joel will be here when she wakes up. He always seems to magically know whenever something’s gone wrong. 

Her attempt at unconsciousness is thwarted by Tommy coming up to her again, this time with Maria and Benji in tow. “C’mon, Ellie-girl. Let’s go home.”

To his home, anyway. Not hers. 

Five more days. More like four and a half. She swallows back bile, forcing herself to her feet. She can make it until then. Just hold off on everything until Joel’s back. What happened in the church was just a fluke. 

Tommy’s hand hovers just over her shoulder the entire way back, like she’s prone to fall over at any moment. Part of her is a little offended. She’s made of tougher stuff—even if her legs are a little shaky right now, and the world has a habit of spinning whenever she stops to catch her breath. 

The heat of the house is a welcome relief when they step inside, and hands guide her over to the couch, Tommy sliding another trash can in front of her. 

“How long you been feelin’ sick?”

She shrugs.

“Anything hurtin’ other than your stomach?”

She shrugs again. Her throat is scratchy from puking, her head is throbbing, and everything aches all over. But she can manage, so it probably doesn’t count. Pain is only pain when you can’t. 

Tommy leaves the room and heads back out the front door, Maria filling in in his absence. She sets Benji down in his pack ‘n play, placing his blue stuffed bunny a foot away from his head. Ellie watches him reach for it with tiny grunts. 

“You put him in baby jail,” she says sadly.

Maria rolls her eyes. “He’s fine. It keeps him safe when we need to do things, and that’s what matters the most.” 

“He didn’t even commit any crimes.”

“Hush, you.” 

Maria surprises her by pulling a thermometer out of nowhere and sticking it into her mouth. If it were anyone else, even Joel, she would spit it out immediately. But Maria’s giving her a look, so she stays still, keeping it in place. 

Ellie spends the next twenty minutes watching Benji, who’s completely focused on trying to reach his bunny. He isn’t quite able to crawl yet, but sometimes he can inch himself forward like a little worm if he concentrates hard enough. 

The front door creaks back open soon enough and Tommy rejoins them in the living room, lifting Benji up and wiggling him around until he’s shrieking with laughter. “Bad babies go to baby jail,” he says in a sing-song voice. 

“He’s a good baby,” Ellie says. Nausea picks that moment to roll through her stomach with even more intensity. She grits her teeth, tucking her knees to her chest. 

“That he is, Ellie-girl.” He puts Benji back down and ducks out of the room again, coming back with a glass of water, which he hands to her. “Slow sips.”

She takes a few. It’s refreshing against her dry, aching throat, but it settles uneasily in her stomach. 

“Joel’s turning around and heading back,” he says, his eyes focused on Maria now. “Told him we had it under control, but, well. He should be back in three days, but I’d give him two. He said clinic if she’s still throwing up or feverish after 24 hours.” 

Ellie hates it when people have conversations about her like she’s not there. She doesn’t protest it right now, though, more focused on trying to keep the contents of her stomach in their intended place. 

“I have to leave in a half an hour,” Maria says. She’s freed Benji from baby jail again, the little dude now held against her hip. “I can bring him with me. Will you be—”

“Yeah, I got her. Could you give Mike a heads-up that I won’t be in today? Or tomorrow, probably.” 

“Mhm.” 

“And Laura, about —” 

“—Yep.” 

Maria gives him a quick kiss before leaving the room, the baby’s babbling still audible all the way down the hall. 

It feels weird, Ellie realizes, watching two adults work so well together. None of the officers were good to their wives in FEDRA. She watched more than a few get beat around before turning to the kids and beating the shit out of them in turn. Joel doesn’t have anyone to work well with. Maybe Tess was like that, before Ellie came along and ruined everything. 

The thought makes her stomach squirm a little too much. She pukes into the trash bin she was left with, Tommy hovering awkwardly beside her. 

He takes the bin from her when she’s done and cleans it out, placing it back down beside her. “Well, looks like it’s you and me for the rest of the day.” 

She curls in tighter on herself. 

“Won’t be that bad, sugar, I promise.” His voice drops when he speaks again, lower but softer. It reminds her of Joel’s. “I can run across the street if there’s anything you want from your place?”

Hah. The one thing she wants from her place is two days away. She the wipes sweat away from her face. “I’m okay. Really. You don’t need to—you won’t have to take me to the clinic.”

“We’ll see how it goes,” is all he says in response. With that, he’s off, heading upstairs and coming back down with her blanket and pillows, which he arranges carefully behind her on the couch.

“What’s that?” she asks when he unscrews the top of a little tube stuffed to the brim with what looks like herbs and pours some into his hand. 

“Catnip. It’s how we got the blasted creature—Maria grows some in the yard. Between you and me, I think she’s happy when the strays wander in.” He offers it out to her. “Put some of this on your blanket and the kitty will come up and lay on you. It’s like weed to them. Cat weed.”

Cat weed. She can’t help but giggle, taking the catnip from Tommy and spreading it over her blanket. It works like magic. Maria and Tommy’s cat appears out of nowhere, even though she usually hides whenever Ellie visits. She clambers onto Ellie’s lap, giving her knee a surprisingly forceful bump with her little black head. 

“Kitty,” Ellie coos, scratching her fingers under her soft chin. She’s never seen her this close before. The cat’s usually a blur of movement, either chasing something or actively trying to get away from anyone under the age of 18. Her pitch-black fur is so fucking soft. And she’s… 

“Hey, Tommy, she’s shaking.”

Tommy is quiet for a moment. Then he reaches down, sticking his own fingers under the cat’s chin. He gets a few seconds in before the cat nips at him. “She ain’t shaking, honey, she’s purring. It’s what cats do when they’re real happy.”

Ellie snorts. “She’s probably happy ‘cause she’s high.” 

Tommy lets out a bark of laughter at that. The cat is pretty damn high now. Her pupils are blown out and she keeps rolling back and forth, arching her back in pure bliss. 

It’s almost enough to make Ellie forget about her aching stomach, and it carries her all the way to the middle of the day, when she wakes up from a nap and pukes again, some of it dribbling to the floor this time. 

Tommy doesn’t say a word. Just cleans it up. 

She almost wants him to just get it over with and hit her, or drag her to the clinic where they decide if her life is worth continuing or not. Finality has to be better than the nerves eating away at her belly every time she slips up. 

The cat stays through it all, though, not the least bit startled from the sudden movement. Even without the allure of catnip, she’s still curled up in Ellie’s lap. 

“Do you think she likes me now?” Ellie asks Tommy, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“I think she likes your body heat.” 

Little jerk. Stealing her heat. She falls back asleep with said little jerk on top of her, a solid, sturdy weight against her chest. 

Maybe she should ask Joel for a cat when he gets back. 

Tommy goes into town to pick up Benji from Maria somewhere around the middle of the day. Ellie doesn’t really notice. The whole world feels heavy and it’s a struggle just to keep her eyes open. So she doesn’t, letting herself drift off until she’s interrupted by the telltale shriek of her favorite baby.

“Sorry,” Tommy says, walking through the living room with Benji in his arms. “It’s his naptime.”

Benji, apparently, disagrees with that statement, and Ellie can hear him continue to intermittently shriek from upstairs for the better part of an hour. Tommy finally comes back down with Benji still in his arms, the baby’s tiny body flailing and angry. 

“Is he hungry?” she asks, sitting up. 

He shakes his head. “He just nursed before I brought him back. Think he’s just cryin’ to cry. According to Joel, it’s genetic.” Yeah. Joel’s told her a whole lot of horror stories about baby Tommy, who was apparently so… special that he still remembers it over 50 years later. 

Benji continues howling, only briefly consoled by a toy that Tommy waves in front of him before he starts all over again. 

Ellie pukes into a bin for the fourth time that day. 

Tommy scans the room for a moment, then mutters something to himself and turns on the TV. Benji immediately goes quiet. Tommy dumps him in Ellie’s lap for the time being, going up to the TV stand and shuffling through the DVDs he and Maria have collected over the years. 

“You ever seen The Exorcist?” he asks, looking back at her. She shakes her head. “Well, it’s topical.” 

He puts the DVD into the player and retrieves his kid, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from her. 

The movie itself is… different from anything Joel’s had her watch. It’s not really scary, though. Just gross, in a weird way instead of a fun one. The baby is absolutely transfixed. He’s very much missing his nap now, big brown eyes glued to the screen. 

Maria comes home towards the end, looking at them, then the screen, then back again. “Seriously?” 

Tommy shrugs. “Stopped his cryin’.”

“And melted his brain, which already needed to overcompensate for the paternal half of his lineage.”

His eyebrows shoot up at that. Then he laughs and gives her a kiss.

Adults are weird. 

Maria scoops Benji—whose blinks have started growing longer and longer—up from Tommy’s lap. He immediately starts screaming. She sighs, putting him back down. “At this point, don’t let him fall asleep. Unless you want to deal with the result tonight.”

“I know, I know.”

They talk back and forth for a couple of minutes, their voices a low buzz. Ellie thinks she hears her name a few times, but she’s not really listening. Her whole body feels hot now. The room is spinning around her. But it’s okay. She’s okay. 

Three more days. 

“Ellie?” Tommy’s voice snaps her back to some semblance of awareness. He’s passing the baby to Maria now, ignoring his cries for the time being to slide closer to her. She curls away from him. “Honey, you’re shaking.”

“M’...okay,” she mumbles. And then bile chokes inside of her throat out of nowhere, coming up all over her shirt. And pants. And the couch. 

“Shit, kid—” Tommy scrambles for the bin, holding it under her while it slows to a stop. 

She’s gross now. It’s in her fucking hair, half of which has come loose from its ponytail. She sucks in a whistling breath, curling in on herself.

“Here, you—” Tommy reaches towards her. She flinches away. His hand quickly returns to his side.

“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” she says quickly. “I’m okay, I won’t do it again.” She slides off the couch and stands on shaking legs, going to take off the cushion. She’ll need to get the floor too, and—

Maria presses the cushion back into place, handing Benji off to Tommy again. The baby looks perplexed. He’s been passed back and forth a whole fucking lot today, even when cozy and happy. Poor dude. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Maria says. “You want to go get washed up?”

“I didn’t mean to,” is all Ellie manages to say in response.

“I know. It’s alright. Trust me, that couch has seen worse.” 

There are multiple ways Ellie can interpret that. One being related to the baby and all of his messes, and the other something that would make Joel tell her to “get her very teenaged mind out of the gutter.”

Tommy is smirking a little now, baby snuggled into his arms once again. 

Yeah, washing up doesn’t sound so bad. She stumbles towards the stairs, teetering awkwardly with each step. Jeez. The world has gotten really shaky since this morning. Another hand ghosts against her back once she’s halfway up the staircase, which is taking a little longer than it should. 

Maria. 

She’s got a way of moving around quieter than anyone Ellie’s ever known. Just like her cat. She’d asked about it once, but Maria had just said she’d “picked it up over time” and left it off at that, in the glassy-eyed way that silently signals not to push something further. 

“Go ahead and shower,” Maria says once they’re finally all the way up the steps. “Put your dirty clothes on the floor and leave the door unlocked. I’ll bring you clean ones soon.” 

“I’m okay.”

“So okay,” Maria snorts. She gives her back a little tap. “Go on, girl.”

Ellie does as she’s told. 

She can admit, begrudgingly, that the water feels heavenly to her aching limbs. The heat of her body is lost to the heat of the water, and the heavy feeling that’s been blanketing her all day starts to feel more calming than suffocating. She drops down and curls up in the corner of the shower, squeezing her eyes shut. 

Things go fuzzy.

She is, of course, very rudely shaken before she can fully drift off, coming back to full consciousness with a face full of water and hand against her bare shoulder. She flinches, scrambling to curl in on herself and cover her body. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“It’s just me.” Maria’s voice comes from the other side of the curtain, her hand retracting. “You fell asleep. Can you stand up?” 

“Yeah.” She pushes herself to her feet. Her legs are still shaking underneath her. 

The shadow of Maria from behind the curtain moves to sit on the closed toilet lid. “Make sure you get your hair, okay?” 

Yep. She sighs and tugs a finger through her hair. There’s still flecks of vomit in it. Gross. 

She doesn’t stay in the shower for that much longer, getting her hair cleaned and the rest of her body somewhat rinsed-off before stepping out. Maria left again, and one of her two pairs of real pajamas are now sitting on the stand beside the towel rack. Maria must have gone across the street to get them. She even brought the less cool pair over, Ellie realizes approvingly. She’d much rather get her plaid ones gross than her badass dinosaur ones. 

She can hear Tommy and the baby in the nursery before she makes her way back downstairs, his voice as soft as the coos from the stupid pigeons that lined Boston’s streets. Maria has disappeared, probably called off to work again. 

The second couch cushion is gone now and Ellie curls up on the remaining one, pulling her blankets to her chest.

A couple kids her age run past the windows, their shouts audible from inside. Too fucking loud. She presses her hands to her ears, closing her eyes. 

Tommy is standing in front of her when she opens them again. Benji is wiggling around on the bare floor behind him, no blanket or anything. He looks like a beetle flipped onto its back. 

“Dude, pick him up,” she rasps.

“Nah, he’s having the time of his life.” 

Benji is giggling, she’ll give him that. He’s rolled himself over now and is trying to pull himself across the floor. Tommy sits beside her on the couch and pulls him back over with a foot whenever he starts to slide too far away. 

“You want me to pull your hair back?” Tommy asks, rolling up his sleeve to reveal multiple hair-ties around his wrist. 

She nods and drops down from the couch, sitting in front of him. Her hair is clean now, but it’s still tangled. He works them out with his fingers. His hands are quicker than Joel’s, and he tugs a little more. But he apologizes each time, and she can feel her eyelids start to droop. 

“Almost done, sweetheart,” he says, finishing the second of the twin braids he’d put in. 

She climbs back onto the couch now that he’s done, and he relinquishes his place on the remaining cushion in favor of lifting Benji up from the floor, which elicits a few frustrated cries. Apparently the floor is preferable to the arms of a loving parent. 

Maybe things will be okay, she decides. She’s clean now, Tommy is kind of Joel-adjacent, and she’s comfy enough. 

Just two more days. 

Things are fine until the sun goes down. Then all bets are off. She sleeps for a little bit, then wakes up and vomits. And repeats the process again and again. Tommy stays up with her the whole night on the bathroom floor or beside the couch—washing out bins and pressing glasses of water to her lips. 

She watches the sunrise with bleary eyes once daylight comes around again, amber glinting through the windows and casting the room in a heavy, golden glow. Her head feels like someone’s taken a jackhammer to it. She closes her eyes. 

Footsteps lead into the room after a few minutes, heavy and slow. Tommy. The thermometer is slipped into her mouth without warning, the back of her hand given a little pinch after. She doesn’t have the energy to swat him away. 

“Alright, honey,” he says, his voice dipping into a suspicious, crooning tone. Nope. Absolutely not. She forces herself to open her eyes, shooting him a scowl.

“I’m not going to the clinic.” 

“Ellie—”

“No. I’m fine. I’ve… It's Monday. I’ve got school.” 

Tommy lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He kind of looks like a wreck, curls sticking out and brow stuck in a permanent furrow. She feels a little bad for him. Not enough to be compliant, though. “Maria already told your teacher you ain't going yesterday. They don't want you spreadin’ your germs around anyway. And the clinic will only be a few hours, then you’ll be back here. But you’re dehydrated. And your fever’s gettin’ too high.”

“I’m fine.” She pushes herself up to sit, rocking back and forth a few times. Her stomach lurches. 

“Gonna go by what your daddy said, sweetheart. No offense, but I’d rather have you pissed off at me than him."

A tear slips down her cheek, ice-cold against her heated skin. It’s followed by another. Then another. She hiccups, wiping at them with her sleeve. Tommy just presses a hand against her knee and walks off, coming back with her shoes. He slips them on her feet himself when she won’t move, tying the laces with quick fingers. 

Then he goes to pick her up. 

Hell no. Ellie wrenches backwards, aiming a weak kick at his knee. “I’m not going.” 

He lets out a long breath. “You can walk down with me, or you can be carried there.” 

She gets up. The collar of her pajamas is soaked in tears, with more still dripping down her face. 

“Hey, take a breath.” Tommy pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at her cheeks with it. The slight touch is enough to make it all stop. She sniffles, blinking away the remaining moisture. “You’re okay.” 

She’s not okay. She’s pissed. She makes a silent pledge to steal one sock from every pair he owns once they’re back. 

The walk to the clinic is longer than it should be. Her legs feel like jelly and don’t always follow her brain’s directions. She trips over nothing twice, Tommy catching her both times and quickly pulling his hands away when she shoots him a glare. 

Her stomach drops once the building is finally in sight. Everything would be okay if Joel were here. She knows down to her core that Joel would never let anyone hurt her, a knowledge that gives her both a sense of security and a lingering feeling of dread. 

She knows Tommy pretty well at this point. He’s cool. She likes him more than Joel somedays. But he’s not Joel. 

She swallows and steels herself for the worst as they step inside.

Shifting around to find a good position on the waiting room’s chairs in a bust, so she sits on the floor instead while Tommy talks with the guy at the front desk. The lights in the room shine brightly, reflecting off the white, sterile walls. Her eyes burn. 

There isn’t really a wait today. After only a minute, they’re called to one of the rooms in the back. It’s one of the kid's rooms. For once, though, she’s glad about it. The walls in the kid’s rooms of the clinic are painted multi-color, this particular one all bubblegum pink and baby blue waves. There are stickers of characters from things she’s never seen scattered across them as well. The only one she can recognize is Bambi. It’s nothing like FEDRA. FEDRA didn’t have color even in the nursery.

That still isn’t enough to get her to untense, though. She remains curled in on herself on top of one of the creaky clinic chairs when Dr. Matthews, her usual doctor, walks in, looking from her to Tommy and back again. “No dad today?”

“He’s on his way back from a patrol,” Tommy says. “I’m standin’ in.” 

“Alright then.” The doctor puts on his usual pair of gloves, then puts a thick black pair on overtop and rolls down his sleeves. 

Tommy snorts. “The hell is all that for?”

“She bites.”

Jeez, you bite a nurse one time. Asshole deserved it too. 

She zones out while Tommy and Dr. Matthews go back and forth, staring at the ceiling. Truth is, she wouldn’t refrain from biting someone right now. She’s got her knife in her pocket, but that’s it. Her teeth and her blade are the only things between herself and danger. 

Tommy and Dr. Matthews are still going at it. This is her window of escape. She slides off her chair and stands up—

Strong, familiar hands pull her back towards the seats, Tommy giving her an unimpressed look. 

“Stop it!” she says, struggling against his grip. “I’m fine, leave me alone!”

“Hey. Ellie.” He stands up and pulls her around to face him. “Cool it.” 

Joel’s dark eyes peer back at her from a different body. But they’re a shade too light and they have less lines around them than they should. Joel isn’t here. She’s by herself. 

She looks out the window, and an ice-cold chill falls over her body. It’s snowing again, tiny flurries intermittently dancing by. And suddenly she doesn’t feel the aching of her stomach. Or the shaking of her legs. She’s just… numb.

But with every muscle in her body tensed. 

Tommy lets go of her and she complies for the rest of Dr. Matthew’s examination, sitting on the edge of the clinic cot in the center of the room with her eyes fixed on his hands and their movements. 

“I’m okay,” she whispers to Tommy, who just gives her a tired smile and a shake of his head. She might have been more convincing if she didn’t immediately lean over the side of the cot to spit bile into a trash bin afterwards. 

One more day. Then Joel will be back. If she can just get out and go home and wait one more day, then—

Dr. Matthews leaves the room. He’s replaced a minute later by a nurse Ellie vaguely recognizes as the woman she bit a few months ago, when Joel had brought her in for stitches after she sliced open her hand trying to help with dinner. Said nurse was side-eying Joel the whole time, and needless to say, Ellie didn’t fight against her instinct to bite the first time she was touched without warning. 

“I’m fine,” Ellie says to Tommy upon seeing her. “We can go back.” 

“It’ll just be a few hours, honey. They want to get some fluids into you.” 

Fuck fluids. She’s not going to spontaneously die in however many hours it will be before Joel comes back. 

She sucks in a quick breath. 

Mean Nurse grabs one of her arms and wipes it off. She’s quick. Ellie almost doesn’t have time to see the flash of the needle. 

But she does.

She doesn’t bite this time. She kicks instead, scrambling off the cot and towards the door. Fucking Tommy is faster. She’s scooped up at once, held firmly against him no matter how much she struggles. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, would you excuse us for a moment?” Tommy’s words vibrate through his chest. Mean Nurse grumbles something under her breath and leaves, shooting her a glare on her way out. With her gone, he sits back down on one of the chairs, moving Ellie from his lap to stand in front of him with a hand around each of her wrists. She yanks backwards. His grip is too strong. “Girl, that is enough.” 

His voice is sharper than usual. Closer to a bark. It pierces her down to her heart and sends her mind whirring again. She has a knife in her pocket. She can keep herself safe until Joel is back. She can…

She can’t knife Tommy. 

He’s not Joel, but he is Tommy. 

“I just want to go home,” she says, and she’s crying again all of a sudden, just like she was back at the house. Her tears are hot and heavy as they roll down her face. “I’m okay.” She wipes at her face with her sleeve. “We can go back.”

Tommy lets go of her wrists. She doesn’t make a break for the door this time, sitting beside him instead with her knees pulled to her chest. His hand comes up to her leg, resting on top of it. “Listen, kiddo, I know you’re tired and you don’t feel well. And I’m a pretty poor substitute for who you really want. But it’s my job right now to keep you safe. And I need you to take a deep breath and tell me how we can make this easier for you.” 

She sniffles, resting her forehead against her knees. 

“C’mon, honey. We got apple juice at home. I can stick some in the freezer once we get back, make popsicles. We just gotta get through this first. It’ll be real quick, and it’ll help you feel better.” 

He’s just bribing her now. Cool.

“I gotta…” she mumbles. “I won’t let them…” She takes her switchblade out of her pocket, sliding it open with shaking hands. 

He doesn’t take it from her. Instead, he takes his own switchblade from his pocket. Then he lifts up the side of his shirt, revealing a gun tucked away in a holster at his waist. He lowers it after a few seconds. “It’s a real smart idea to keep something on you at all times. I always do, so I can protect our family. I ain’t ever gonna let anything happen to you, babygirl.” 

Her head shoots up.

Joel’s eyes stare back at hers. They’re a shade too light, sure. They’re younger, less creased. But the lashes turn the same way. The gaze hits that same strong, misty softness in a way she’s only seen in one other person before. 

She’s not okay, she thinks for the first time in days. Her stomach hurts like hell, and her whole body is heavy and achy, and the room keeps tilting. 

But she’s safe. And she’ll be safe until Joel gets back. 

“Deep breath in,” Tommy says. She takes one. “And out. That’s it, good job. Gonna give it another minute before I ask Mrs. Hoar back in.” 

“Mrs… What?” 

Tommy rolls his eyes. He’s fighting a smile, she can tell. “That’s her name, girl.” 

She takes more deep breaths. She’s still shaking regardless, and Tommy reaches out to give her hand a gentle squeeze. He keeps holding it even once Mean Nurse is back in the room and Ellie is back on the cot, the needle coming out again. She watches it go into her arm, holding still. 

She’s safe.

And Joel will be back soon. 

Though she’ll never admit it, Tommy was right. She’s done with the IV after an hour and they keep her for another two to see if she can keep water down. Her stomach is still achy and she’s still cold, but the world is finally sitting still again after all of its tilting, and her eyelids don’t feel quite as droopy. That, paired with the relief of leaving the clinic, is enough to have her just about running home. Tommy keeps a grip on the back of her shirt the whole time though, which, fair enough. 

She curls up on the couch again once they’re back and dozes off, woken up after only a few minutes by the gentle scratching feeling of fingers carding through her hair. She thinks it’s Joel for a moment, until she opens her eyes and is met with the sight of Maria beside her on the couch, Benji wiggling around on the floor.

“Go back to sleep,” Maria whispers.

She does. 

The next couple of times she’s woken up, it’s to Tommy holding a glass of water to her lips. He bugs her until she takes a few sips, and she’s drifting off again within minutes each time. 

Then she wakes up and the living room is dark. The moon is just barely visible through the lace curtains, round, yellow, and surrounded by a scattering of stars. One of the windows is cracked, a slight breeze blowing into the room. There’s a light on in the kitchen and it pools through the entryway, stopping in the middle of the floor. 

She swallows and rolls onto her side. Her skin is prickly, little sparks of static jumping across it. The heaviness from before has returned with vengeance, and a weight presses against her back, keeping her rooted to the couch. 

She’s burning. 

She can feel fire in her face. Her belly. Her chest. She kicks one of her blankets off, trying to detangle herself from the rest. 

Burning. Fire. Winter outside. 

Fuck. 

“Hey, you’re awake.” Tommy’s shadow blocks out the patch of light on the floor as he comes to stand in the kitchen entryway. “How you feelin’, buttercup?” 

Ellie has no fucking idea what a buttercup is. 

She forces herself to sit, taking in a shaking breath. “It’s so hot.”

Tommy crosses from the kitchen to the couch. His hand presses against her forehead, then slides down to her cheek. “Yeah, I bet it is. I’m gonna go get you some water, okay? Can give you some medicine now too, if you think you can keep it down.” 

He’s in and out in a second, and then she’s swallowing a few sips of water, along with whatever the pills he handed her were. He throws in a few crackers too, and she nibbles along the edges of one. 

Benji starts crying from upstairs. His cry is fucking piercing, able to transcend the boundary of house levels when he wants it to. Tommy sighs, scrubbing a hand across his face. He goes up, coming back down with the baby in his arms. “No use in keepin’ his mama up if I already am, huh?” 

His voice is closer to a croak than anything right now, the bags under his eyes heavy and bruised. He hasn’t slept in two nights, Ellie realizes with a twinge of guilt. He stayed up all of last night looking after her. 

“You can go to sleep,” she says. “I can watch the baby and—”

“—Don’t finish that thought, Ellie-girl.” Tommy gives her a look, sitting next to her and dropping the baby—who looks deceptively happy right now—down into his lap. “I’ve got him. He’s my responsibility, not yours.”

Benji starts to fuss from his lap, the attention diverted away from him for too long in his opinion. Tommy lifts him up and kisses his forehead, and all is well in baby-world again. 

Ellie rolls onto her back for a minute. Then her stomach. Then her back again. It doesn’t matter how she lays—she’s still hot, her limbs still ache, and she’s no closer to falling asleep. She’s shivering again too, her teeth chattering. 

“Alright, gang,” Tommy says, placing a hand against Benji’s chest to prevent him from rolling off of his lap—something he’s wont to do. “Gonna put on a movie.” 

“Nothing with singing animals,” Ellie says. 

“Noted.” 

They end up with Jurassic Park, much to Ellie’s approval. She watches it through half-lidded eyes, glancing back over at Tommy once the T-Rex has made her grand appearance on screen. Benji watches the scene with rapt attention.  

“Is this okay for him?”

Tommy shrugs, ruffling the baby’s curls. “I think he likes it.”

Cool, then. 

The overwhelming heat has started to die down, and she’s left feeling ice cold. Shivers wrack through her body every minute or so, creeping up her spine. She piles on her abandoned blankets, curling up as tight as she can. They don’t help very much. 

Tentatively, she inches forward. Just a little bit at a time, enough that it shouldn’t be noticeable. She can see Tommy’s gaze flicker down anyway. But he doesn’t say anything. 

With a small sigh, she finally leans her head against his thigh and curls back up again. Benji greets her by attempting to grab a fistful of her hair, laughing hysterically when Tommy bats his hand away. Tommy’s hand drops to her arm after, rubbing circles against it. 

She closes her eyes. 

She’s warm when she finally drifts off to sleep.

There’s a hand against her forehead when she wakes up the next morning. A finger traces down her cheek, rough and large and warm, and she knows who it is for certain this time, even before she opens her eyes. A smile curls at her lips. 

“There’s my girl.” 

She opens her eyes, wiping away the bleariness with the back of her hand. The day is in full force outside of the living room windows, the sun shining white and full in the middle of the sky. And Joel is crouched in front of her. He looks a little worse for wear, worry lines visible and shoulders a little more slumped than usual. But he’s here, his hand sliding down to give hers a little squeeze. The cat is here also, sprawled out on top of her. The tiny beast scurries away once she realizes she's awake. 

Ellie looks past Joel, to where Tommy is fast asleep on the opposite end of the couch, his head thrown back and the baby nowhere in sight. He’s snoring a little too. 

“Good morning,” Joel says. “How’re you feeling?”

She sniffles, reaching out a hand to touch the front of the work jacket he’s still wearing. Flakes of mud tumble down at her touch, crumbling on the floor. 

Her stomach is still rolling and unsteady, but it doesn’t hurt anymore, she realizes. Her head is throbbing, but she isn’t burning or freezing. “I’m okay,” she says. 

His fingers trace over the bandage still around the crook of her arm from where the IV had been. He presses a kiss to her forehead and stands up with a groan. “Alright, kiddo. Let’s get home, huh?” 

She nods, sitting up. “Tommy—”

“—I’ll wake him, let him know we’re leaving.”

Joel gives his brother a little shake. It’s a lot nicer than the other ways she’s seen them wake each other up (usually with a clap in front of a face or a pillow thrown at a head). Tommy’s snoring gets louder for a moment, then sputters off all together, his eyes shooting open. 

“Fuck!” He rasps. “Baby—”

“I saw him leave with Maria just before I came inside,” Joel says. 

“Aw, hell. Ain’t supposed to…” Tommy scrubs a hand across his face. 

“He’s fine.” Joel helps Ellie to her feet, leaving for a moment to get her shoes from by the door. “She went to the clinic?”

“Uh huh. Doc said it’s the same bug everyone’s had. She got fluids and was good to go. Was down a few pounds, though, just a heads up.”

Yeah, that’s enough talking about her. She aims a light kick for Joel’s shin. He rolls his eyes in response. “You got everything you came with?” he asks. 

“My backpack’s upstairs.”

Joel leaves the room, his footsteps thudding up the stairs. Tommy walks into the kitchen in his absence, looking at the clock. “Goddamn, it’s almost noon.” 

Jeez. She gets up and peeks through the entryway of the kitchen to see it herself. 11:49, flashes at her in shining red numbers. Yep. 

She swallows, her gaze falling. “Sorry for, y’know… everything.”

Tommy’s eyes soften and he’s wrapping an arm around her all of a sudden, giving her a quick, warm hug. “Ain’t got nothing to be sorry for, honey girl. You’ve always got a place here with us. Sick or well. Now, go home and get some rest. I’m gonna go spring my kid from daycare.”

She snorts. “He likes daycare.”

“Not as much as he likes his daddy.” 

He might like it even more than Tommy, actually. Babies are fickle like that. Cute little bastards. 

She watches him leave with a smile, which grows even bigger once Joel is in front of her again, her backpack in hand. “Ready to go home, babygirl?” 

Fuck, is she ready.

All is right in her world again.