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"Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker
Let me think more of my neighbor
And a little less of me."
Glen Campbell
BOSTON QZ - DECEMBER
"Joel."
Tommy's voice is frail. He's all skin and bone these days.
Joel holds in a sigh from his spot on the sunken couch. There's a nasty, bitter draft coming in from the window. The glass shattered last week from ricochet on the street below. He's patched it enough to stop the snow from coming in.
Joel lifts his gaze from worn boots to meet Tommy's eye. Tommy, who leans against the kitchen island of their rotten apartment; his shoulders curved inward from some imaginary weight. Except Tommy's whole and hale - well fed even. There ain't a sharp point on his face. He's in possession of all base needs, petty wants. Well, reasonable ones in what they call the world now. Which in Joel's case is Hell.
Tommy's cursed Joel to live beside him and he'll see it through till Tommy's good and dead.
Another knock at the apartment door, louder this time. As if the person on the other side is anxious.; probably are given things lately. The echo of a woman's screams still ring in his bad ear - her keening sobs that filled the building for days.
"Don't answer that."
Joel almost scoffs. He feels it hit the back of his teeth instead; recalls that loud fucking family on the second floor. How FEDRA piled the little bodies up in the street - it was quiet now.
"People want to trade," Joel says gruffly, "That's what we do Tommy."
Tommy's head twitches; a tick from childhood whenever he's gotten himself good and riled up. The two of them hadn't had it out properly in about a year. Joel should've seen this coming. That his bleeding heart of a brother would try to pull the breaks on usual business during Boston's imitation of the Black Plague.
"You might as well be stealing from out under em'!" Tommy yells, his eyes wild and neck straining with the effort.
Joel stiffens, levels his brother one last look of impatience. It's all the heart he has to give him these days, a few seconds of thought before that hairline temper is tripped over. Tommy's done plenty all these years to survive. They didn't make it this far in Boston's trade business -stay well fed and safe- by being soft-hearted.
"Please!" A stranger bangs on his door again. This winter's been a trail of them, enough to push Joel back to pills.
"If you steal from -"
Joel stands and walks right up to his brother; forgets that he was once so small against his shoulder, trailing along at his side. He snaps at Tommy in a low voice that drips with acid. They come to blows. The pounding at his door doesn't stop. Joel forgets the sharp glint in his father's eye; hands angry and red toward any undeserving life in their path.
Tommy leaves with a black eye and a heavy bag. A little song and dance Joel's seen him do before; runoff to a some slag girlfriends for a few weeks then come back.
Joel makes the desperate trade in doorway with a busted nose; rag held tight to his face. He takes all they offer for the medicine; it's almost enough for it's worth. It's probably everything they could scrounge together, even steal before mustering up the courage to knock. Joel explains how the pills work twice because they look stupid with stress - reminds them in a brutal, no-nonense voice they might not work.
That December -the whole winter really- he and Tess amass more shit than they even knew existed in the QZ. According to FEDRA's spring announcements 25% of Boston's adult population died from the viral strain that went around. Roughly 50% of the children too.
Joel's walking back to his quiet apartment when a child attempts to stop him in the street. He's just finished prowling the section next to theirs for Tommy - without any luck. His energy and patience gone before he even started the task.
The childs blonde hair is matted and their look of feral unkemptness means it's likely a FEDRA officer will drop them into the military school soon. Joel's avoiding those big, sunken blue eyes with a wave of his hand when they recite Tommy's name - his entire government name.
"What?" Joel stops in place. He looks around for an ambush from Carter's guy's, wishes he took Tess up on her offer to join him.
"This is from Tommy." The child waves a folded letter around, "'Said you'd give me ration cards for delivering it."
Joel scowls, pays the kid and watches them run off into an alley. Out of a healthy fear of getting shivved in the street, he waits to read the letter in his apartment. He throws it down before the last words have registered. Joel is yelling to Tess about terrorists and searching through their cases of supplies when he does register she hasn't responded.
When Tess attempts to speak sense into Joel - he yells at her too. He storms out of their apartment and breaks into the last place Tommy was known to be crash at. His brother isn't there but his (admittedly less skanky than envisioned and now) ex-girlfriend is. She screams at him about not knowing the Fireflies and throws shit at him until he leaves - apparently unaware or uncaring of his reputation.
Tess already waits for him on the street below. It was a futile attempt - the letter was dated. Tommy left the state before Joel could even try to follow.
Joel doesn't see Tommy for ten years.
"Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker
Let me think more of my neighbor
And a little less of me."
Glen Campbell
JACKSON SETTLEMENT - DECEMBER
"Ellie." Tommy holds Benji facing outward on his lap, the baby's tiny legs valiantly pushing against jeans and gravity with little success. "What abouts you thinkin' you want for Christmas?"
Out of sight, dishes clink softly together beneath running water. Ellie resists the urge to stand from her spot on the 'loveseat' -ridiculous name for a piece of furniture if you asked her- looks to the baby for a bit of help. Benji's got drool coming down his chin on one side; he looks delighted to be here and quite possibly like Tommy's his favorite person. Ellie's only known Tommy about two month's longer than the kid but she thinks Benji's opinion of him is a little inflated.
"That's a tough one," Ellie says slowly, dragging out each syllable.
Tommy's face shifts. He can sense an orphan joke coming on like Joel's joints do a storm; he changes tactics.
"Well, Maria's thinking something practical from the trade like soap, pencils, newly made clothing item maybe."
Ellie's eyebrows raise. Equally surprising she can hear Maria laugh at something Joel's said from the doorway of the kitchen; the two of them leaving her to this improptu interrogation.
"Right." Ellie shrugs.
She wishes she could make remarks about coal and orphanages. She hadn't even realized he meant a present from he and Maria. Joel gave her little stuff all the time. At the start of November he'd mentioned Christmas in an offhand way, attention lingering on her for a reaction. If she supposed to be getting Tommy, Maria and Benji something too?
"Either way, I was thinking," Tommy leans forward conspiratorally, the effect lessened by the baby's head becoming level with his.
For a moment Ellie forgets that she feels uncomfortable, that Tommy's constant insistence to include her pokes at nerves she didn't know existed. Instead, her chest feels warm and a private grin sits behind her closed mouth. "We could go outside the walls -you and me- maybe some of your older friends with gun clearance?"
Ellie's smirk appears.
"Go ice-fishing. It takes a bit of gear, but there's a good area for it up on Phelps Lake."
Ellie opens her mouth to ask what the hell that is -
"Heard Phelps Lake was the best spot round' here for fishin'," Joel walks into the living room, shirt sleeves still rolled up. He leans against the armrest of Ellie's seat.
"Oh it is," Tommy nods smoothly, "Walleye's fantastic in July."
Joel blinks slow and lizard like. Ellie nearly huffs, she's seen that look on him before. She's still unsure what ice-fishing entails but is certain Joel's about to put a stop to it.
"Fantastic," Joel repeats with good humor, "The three of us should go about then. Weather'll," he stresses the word, "Be perfect."
Tommy smiles, all shiny teeth and hair, "Absolutely. We'll start a family tradition, invite the boy when he's older."
Joel huffs out a laugh then glances to Ellie. His expression flickers once at her discombobulated reaction to 'family tradition'. She smiles back, saves her questions about ice-fishing for a book at the library or possibly never since Joel can hover like no one's business.
Maria joins and talk of fishing continues; she hoists Benji high on her hip and shares that her older sister was a great fisherman. Her Dad too. Which leads to more stories about the world Before.
Ellie pushes further and further back into the loveseat. Growing up in Boston with a skewed ratio of kids around, she always wanted to hear more about Before. But not like this, it was sentimental and personal in the extreme. The kinda stuff she usually only wants to hear about from Joel. By time they've left, Ellie's energy is shot despite doing nothing and she still doesn't understand how the Christmas presents work in Jackson.
It's two weeks later and Mid-December when Joel broaches the topic of Christmas again. Ellie's laid out on the couch with Dune Messiah when he stops in the archway behind way. She definitely doesn't flinch - because she totally heard him come inside the back door. Her reflexes are just as sharp as they were on the road and nothing, even this cushy, domestic house could dull them.
Joel smirks, says nothing about her reddening cheeks and lifts up up two long, oversized knit socks.
"I was thinkin' if you wanted," He hesitates, eyes loosing that bit of mirth he had at her expense a moment ago, "I found these down at the Exchange. They look hand knit, probably rejects if we're bein' blunt 'bout it -"
Ellie snorts. One of the socks is violently, neon orange before it abruptly turns purple towards the ankle. The other is the color of Benji's shit on a particularly bad day.
"But, they're stockin's," Joel gives an exaggerated, playful shake of his head. Something Ellie doesn't him do often; she watches with rapt attention, feels hungry for something unnamable. "We don't have any up yet. So they could be ours. If you'd like that."
Ellie brushes her fingers against the edges of her closed book.
"Yeah sure. You're taking that one though." Ellie nods her head towards the uglier of the two. She valiantly tries not to think about the night after they set up their small tree, even the memory of the baubles too fragile in Ellie's hands. Joel went to the Tipsy Bison and didn't come back till they'd closed. Till someone had called for Tommy to pick him up from his booth - occupied by one.
Joel's mouth twists into a near smile.
"Fine by me kiddo."
The stockings go up with a thin nail into the fireplace and Christmas arrives with less fanfare than Ellie expected. Evidently, because she's 'a kid' her name is signed onto the presents Joel picks out. Sometimes it isn't evident to Ellie that they're a pair for everything. Her birthday sure, Thanksgiving alright - the food was pretty great and Jackson celebrated as a town. But it seemed Christmas was mostly private in people's homes. What if it was the one he wanted to leave her at home for? Like a Miller only holiday.
At Joel's request, Ellie's dressed in her 'best' for lunch at Maria and Tommy's across the street. She's coming down the stairs, a smile on her face at the sound of him cursing in the kitchen when there's a loud knock at the door.
Ellie hops the last few steps her socked feet sliding against shiny wood. Tommy likes to knock and then open the door with a loud call for permission to enter. Weird guy Tommy. Maria doesn't quite knock like that either, usually pretty quick raps, longer too so you can't doubt if someone was at the door.
"Hello," Ellie says lowly, opening the door wide despite Joel's insistence it lets the heat out. She saw a butler do it in a movie and is in a good mood today; it amuses her to try and recreate the scene.
"Heya Ellie," An elderly man smiles down at her. He's familiar, tall and spindly as a scarecrow, "Sorry to bug you on the holiday. Is your Dad busy?"
Ellie figures Joels battling a first degree burn against whatever side dishes he's contributing to lunch.
"I'm not sure." Ellie says simply, turns on her heel then sharply calls out, "JOEL."
A pan loudly clangs against metal and the man Ellie's come to realize is their neighbor two doors down winces.
"Not much of a cook?" He whispers conspiratorially.
"I'm not sure about that either, but I'll let him know you mentioned it." Ellie chirps with big, innocent eyes.
Mr. Aoki quickly shakes his head.
"Ellie, what did I say about the heat? Or do you wanna start helpin' chop -" Joel comes up behind her, one over mitt still in hand. "Uh Mr. Aoki - why don't you come on in and out of the cold."
Ellie shuts the door behind their neighbor and gives Joel a look of intense questioning behind the man's back. She receives nothing back because apparently he is possessed by manners in Jackson and today - Christmas spirit.
At Joel's instruction Ellie goes to 'keep an eye' on the food. By way of eavesdropping and two old men with bad hearing that speak loudly, she learns Mr. Aoki's pipes have frozen and his son is working the wall shift - till dark. Ellie listens to Joel's starting and stop of a reply, his quiet breath and then the two of them walk towards the door.
"Ellie," Joel calls from the living room, still standing on the welcome mat.
"Yeah." She pokes her head around the wall unabashed and without embaressment.
"Jesus girl." Joel huffs, his hands going to his waist. His button down shirt tucked in. "I gotta help the neighbor with somethin' - shouldn't take long. Too cold to leave it till tomorrow."
Ellie remains still. She hadn't pictured something this on Christmas and Joel's contractor favors usually took awhile.
"An hour tops," Joel says, his eyes softening, "Then we'll have lunch as a family."
Ellie nods like this doesn't affect her at all. The delay or the reminder that it's a family lunch on Christmas; that there are presents for her under the tree.
By times Joel's made it back, it's been an hour and a treacherous half. But Ellie's far too old to ever point that out. Besides his cheeks are bright red from the cold so she holds in her gripes about reheated food.
At Maria and Tommy's, the baby's in a themed onsie that makes Joel look away on first sight. It makes Ellie's chest feel hot with doubt. Should she stick closer to Joel or farther away? Then they're all sat with food and even candles lit on the same old table they usually eat at except Tommy's got this big moon eyes pointed at every one.
"What's got you two late anyhow? Not that we mind the extra time with Mr. Mess over here," Tommy says then feeds Benji more mashed potatoes. Solid foods are pretty new so he mostly squints at Tommy in an imitation of Ellie's earliest feelings of him - suspicion.
Joel recounts Mr. Aoki's visit with dry casualty. But Tommy smiles at him, a full wide beam that makes Ellie think they're about to fight. Or hug like that first day in Jackson.
"Alright Ebenezer," Tommy's voice is slow and teasing, Maria snorts across the table from Ellie. "Don't over do it today though, I'm sure there's a kitten up a tree we can find for you tomorrow."
Joel rolls his eyes seems to give into an age old impulse and kicks Tommy beneath the table.
"Joel." Ellie says shocked smiling.
"I was," Joel says fighting a grin, Tommy laughs heartily, "Showing you what -not- to do when someone's gettin' on your nerves."
Benji slaps the tray of his high chair and Tommy assures him that he's still very important.
"Who's Ebenezer?" Ellie asks a moment later, confused and not understanding the joke.
Beneath the warm light Joel, Maria and Tommy laugh.