Chapter Text
The last days had been good, if only too calm for Joel's ever present anxiety, his brain nagging at his insides against the unusual lack of headaches or general stupidity amongst the herd of ugly faces that daily crossed his path; an invisible bell kept telling him that soon enough the other shoe would drop, which kept him from truly relaxing on an otherwise boring month.
But all things considered, boring meant safe. For both him, and Tess, and the idiotic creature that he called brother who kept to their bi-monthly radio policy.
It had been a while since FEDRA last found either of their hideouts around town; even longer since some fuckass firelight started anything funny enough to make it everyone else's problems, and longer still since Tommy reported any dumb idea spawning from that group of delusionals of his that would surely end up with his body on some sewer.
Boring meant nothing unusual or remarkable, which was all good for his tired bones and the annoying little holes in his thigh, a reminder of how many funny business he had to endure the previous month in the form of dumdum bullet fragments still sticking to his flesh, a welcome gift from some sick-looking fuckass trying to compensate for his miserable .22LR.
His fists still smarted from returning the favor to the equally miserable addict, who thought some rusty rat-hunting gun would be enough to steal from him. His body ached from almost diving back-first down the stairs on his way out of that building, when adrenaline gave way to abrupt pain as his brain registered the mess that a dumdum could do, even with inadequate calibers.
All these years, and yet the first time Joel was hit by one of those bloody bullets was because an eighty-or-so pound bastard with more bones than meat and a nose long enough to give away one's position decided to steal some near expired drugs instead of paying up as was the agreement.
If Tommy was here, he'd give him hell for that.
At least Joel had the privilege of breaking that hazard of a nose, damned guy had it coming.
Yet, calm and safety also meant they were low on jobs, most of their usual buyers were out and about; FEDRAs agents piling up around the exterior frontiers, fireflies hiding beyond their commercial reach, and the common folk too poor into the summer to spare much for the odd drug or smuggling of items from the outside world.
His body may have needed the reprieve from gunshots and punches, but their income was mostly based on the frenzy and danger of the odd job here and there, and with how low in numbers those were, Joel was forced to accept Tess' demand and lie low, least his injured leg became a hindrance and fucked up their scarce missions altogether.
So, as things were, he kept to himself and did the daily labour licensed by FEDRA and accepted the meager payment, barely enough to feed a kid, let alone a grown man, while Tess went all alone to deal with some long-planned mission outside both of them were supposed to go.
Suffice to say, he was pissed.
With himself for letting the damned guy put a bloody crossed bullet into his leg, and FEDRA who used the opportunity to make people work their asses off for the half stale bread they did with piss and dust, with Tess for making him work for them, and with the damned fungal creatures that started this whole mess twenty damned years ago.
All of it, and the cold.
Bone clacked against bone as he bent his knees to reach the pieces of debris FEDRA's big tractors had left behind after the demolition of an old firefly basement, cursing all the way up to the sky in his mind as rain upon rain fell over his back like hail, almost loud enough to cover the sound of his teeth clacking with the icy temperature an unfortunate summer storm could reach.
Many of his fellow colleagues had ran off at the first clouds and succeeding drops, knowing the mortality hidden by the simplicity of a cold, but Joel merely watched them all crawl away to the fake refuge of their shitty homes as he carried broken window frames and whole doors into FEDRA wagons, knowing that being alone in his own shitty apartment with nothing to do other than stare at the shitty wall and contemplate his shitty thoughts, was just as much of a death sentence as the prospect of illness.
Whatever. Working under rain paid more, hazard taxes and all; not enough to pay the doctor once you catch the cold.
Go figure.
The rest of the workers started dragging themselves away, rain finally winning over their resolve to bring back food to the table, and as the last of the miserable crowd walked away, leaving him alone to himself, Joel finally allowed his body to stop for a moment.
A few minutes until the guard finishes paying them all. Long enough for him to lean against some of the last standing walls and rest up for the small reprieve it offered. An hour or two more, and I might head back as well.
The prospect of working until his body collapsed on itself, enough to ward away even the worst of nightmares, was far too palatable for him to pass up; no triazolan or alprazolam or whatever other somniferous drug strong enough he came across waited him at home, not even Tess to offer him silence companionship as they drowned in their shared misery.
He dug through his pocket for any leftover chewing tobacco, a nasty habit he had never in his life thought to pick up… first for Tommy, and then came Sarah…
Turns out, the nicotine could be pleasantly numbing once you stop caring about staying alive on the long run, helps when you need to masquerade the empty stomach during labour work for unknown hours, and it's easy enough to come by the apocalypse; a good enough drug to keep stocked up for daily, authorized trade as well.
Bitter and relatively dry, he grimaced at the first taste left behind by the loose leaves, placing them between teeth and cheek as he watches the familiar FEDRA uniform return back to the security of his roof where he kept watch over the open field where Joel worked, a lone figure beneath the heavy toll of rain.
On clue, the guard jerked in his direction, as if just now realizing his presence… which wouldn't be that much surprising, given the rainstorm blinding most people to barely five feet of capable vision.
“Hey! You two!”
Two?
With tight eyes, lids pressed together to keep most of the rain away, Joel turned around this and that way, just vaguely worried that his guard had been so down as to not realize there had been another entire person sharing vicinity in his perceived solitude.
“I've no desire to freeze my ass off out here, so y'all wrap it up so I can get off this damned storm, will ya?”
“Bold words for a dickhead hidden under the roof”
Joel barely restrained the urge to strike in a blind turn at the origin of the voice, if only because the guard would surely use the violence as an excuse to hold on to his payment, the person loud enough for his deaf side to pick up but safely away enough from the pesky man staring at them.
There was a bitter taste in his mouth when he turned, glancing from the corner of his eyes at a head of red chestnut hair.
He had to tilt his head down to see the face of a young girl, skinny and dripping wet like a puppy left for dead in the road; she was farther than he had thought so, a healthy distance from both him and the guard who had already started messing with the keys to lock the site up.
The bitter taste remained in his mouth as he stared, unblinking, at the petite figure who had been working amongst grown people this whole time, quiet like the grave as she undoubtedly carried debris and frames and sharp glasses just like everyone else.
Still got baby fat.
He wouldn't be surprised if the girl had one or two molars yet to grow, if she's young enough to carelessly shit on a guard like that.
Still, she had a point.
“-re to collect yer cards, and I-”
Joel jerked his eyes off the girl, relieved that she hadn't seen him gawking at her like a creep for a full minute, and forced a deep breath onto his lungs; life's hard for anyone, girl's lucky she ain't dead yet anyway.
A bitter thought that Joel wouldn't acknowledge nor disregard, ignoring the disgust in his mind as he rolled his shoulders back and marched closer to the guard, standing close enough to hover over the man:
“No, I will stay. Y'all payin’ more for double shifts, and I know them additionals for workin’ under rain.” He grumbled, low in his throat but heard over the rain nonetheless. “Not gon’ say no word if you go now, though, as long as my payment is here.”
If the guard wanted to ditch his job, Joel didn’t give a damn; as long as he was paid what he worked for, that was.
The guard visibly backed off from his approach, shoulders squaring up in a pitiful attempt at mimicking him, but he was a full head lower than Joel, and much too young to stand his ground without back up. A boy more than a man, really.
Behind him, Joel could feel eyes burning through them both, curious and hungry to oversee the turn of events.
“That's- that's not how it works-” The guy stuttered, hands hugging the barrel of a rifle clean enough that Joel doubted it had ever smelt the firing of powder.
“And you leavin’ is?”
Soft steps echoed despite the rain behind him, a figure barely tall enough to reach his chest stepping carefully closer, as if making sure the guard wouldn't forget her payment as well.
Still, a healthy distance from them both.
Joel chewed on the tobacco, now a paste numbing his tongue and mind as he waited for the guy to find his bearings, sneaking a glance at the kid which this time noticed it.
As if time itself had ceased to flow, for a moment, he watched the distrustful eyes glinting in obvious aggression at him, almost daring him to continue, and only when white teeth showed in a baring of teeth did Joel snap off of it, returning his gaze back to the guard as if the previous moment had never happened.
He heard a quiet sigh, a relieved exhale from the few paces beside him, and only barely caught the shiny glint of metal, hidden on her hand.
A knife or a stolen coin, Joel couldn't care less.
“So?”
“Whatever, dude, I don' wanna no trouble, so between the two of us, lets say you've worked your double already and-”
Before the guard could continue, a pitchy, young voice interrupted him: “Three.”
“What?”
“The three of us,” the girl added, voice tinged with bravado and annoyance but hiding a veil of hesitation, “I've been here for just as long as him.”
The guard frowned, eyes going between them in confusion and looking at the girl for a long time, long enough that Joel even considered stepping in front of her or something, before something like realization dawned on him.
“Aren’t ya supposed to be in the Hole?”
The girl visibly bristled, stepping that much closer to Joel if only to jab a finger at the guard's chest, “Jake, I swear, if you say anything I will tell people about your b-”
“Not accusing or anythin’, just got curious, is all” The boy was quick to add, raising both hands in a placating gesture, “Thought you were gonna stay there until hell froze.”
Joel had no idea what ‘the hole’ was, and he hardly cared enough to ask, but he listened to the two of them arguing for the few minutes it took the guard -Jake- to collect and hand over his payment.
Girl oughta be FEDRA as well, for her to be on a first name basis with a guard.
What is she even doin’ here, out and about in the rain?
For all the banter between them, the guard barely spared the girl a glance before turning tail and speed-walking down the street, eager to get off the rain as it continued to fall upon them.
Cards well guarded from the rain inside his ziplook, a much needed finding during some of his last close calls with some nomad raiders, he turned a cautious eye to the girl’s direction, only to find her already staring right back at him.
The girl bristled when their eyes met, taking a large step backwards, “The hell you’re staring at, old shit?”
Joel couldn’t have kept his eyes from rolling if he tried, which he didn’t, but he did relax his shoulders, shrinking his posture just the smallest bit from more of an instinctive pull than actual thoughts, grumbling in annoyance instead of the plain aggression he had with the guard “You’re in my way. The hell you doin’ out here still? It’s past bedtime for ten years old.”
“Waiting for you to get out of my way.”
Joel scoffed, making a show out of looking around the street, “Road large enough for the two of us, I reckon.”
Her answer came in the form of a middle finger as the girl sidestepped him by a comically large margin, both staring at each other for the few seconds it took for each of them to gain more distance in between.
Joel turned to look over his shoulder just before the girl rounded on a building, mumbling to himself.
“Brat.”
There are, unfortunately, some things that Ellie knew only too well about life during the apocalypse:
That it doesn’t give you the chance to overthrow the government so easily.
And that the people who think so will make it everyone else’s problem,
Hence, why she had been stuck on cleaning some room site the terrorists had raided a few weeks ago at the same time that fucking Bethany decided to grace it with her presence; and Ellie tried, she really did, to keep to herself and continue the easy motions of sweeping here, taking stock there, and cleaning the occasional splash of blood in the ground.
All easy and dandy.
But fucking Bethany.
No matter what she tried to do, the bitch would always try to drag a reaction out of her, kicking her bucket and splashing everywhere in dirty water, throwing things at her, screaming to whoever was around that she was the one starting things… and only a handful of times did she fail on getting both of them into trouble for it.
Fucking Bethany, with her fucking height advantage and brain damage and piss-contesting personality.
At least she broke her nose, damn bitch had it coming.
Ellie fed into the satisfaction Bethany’s pain gave to her brain for as long as she could afterwards, admittedly a bitter and pathetic way of holding grudges for the two long nights it granted her into The Hole, but hey, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do in that claustrophobic crack in the ground; imagining it was a spaceship or a cryogenic bed only worked for the first five hours of punishment.
And anyway, she had all the great reasons to be pissed and fed off her grudge: while Bethany got a day maximum and a pat on the head, always in the golden side of FEDRA given her “natural leadership, a prodigy!” and the poor silver crib which had to carry the baby devil or something like that, Ellie had to starve two days for a fight she hadn’t even propositionally picked.
Well… Maybe not starve, but it was a close thing, given the piece bread made out of incredible ingredients like rotten gut and sewage leftovers she was given every eight hours.
And despite FEDRA’s worrying lack of instructions towards basic things like human ethics and space engineering (like, seriously, Ellie totally would have gone to special internship if she had the chance, it sucks that the government or whatever thought it useless for the apocalypse), Ellie did in fact know about the effects of starvation on her body.
Take that, biology class.
She also knew the very physical effects of breaking curfew, like getting hit on by either a moody guard’s fists or the occasional pervert who managed to outbrain the guards and get too close to FEDRA’s headquarters, but both of those were heavily outweighed by her stomach eating her from the inside out, so she went with the logical alternative the moment the bastard of a guard closed the door behind her, having escorted her all the way from the Hole to her and Riley’s room.
Riley, for all her prone-to-get-in-trouble personality, would have chewed her out if she was here right now, saying some shit like Ellie ‘bitting the hook’ everytime or whatever even if it wasn’t really Ellie’s fault that Bethany had such a punchable face.
Whatever. Riley had the privilege of punching her eye purple one or two times.
But at least if she was here, Ellie knew she’d give her whatever stash of dry, disgusting snacks from unknown origins she had hidden on her clothes 24/7. Punishment or out and about, Ellie didn’t know, but she wouldn’t stay and wait for her.
The curfew was up, which meant she could break it: their window, which was supposed to be locked forevermore, had been jacked free a very long time ago when Riley’s first strike of rebellion started; by dumb luck, it also connected into a long-ass fire exit all the way down to the alley where she could sneak around the few patrollers and find herself some uncompromising job with payment on the spot.
The night flea market was full of roasting rats with The Plague for seasoning this time of the year. Costing an arm and a leg most of the time, but food was food, and Ellie wasn’t about to wait another ten hours to get something in her.
So, with the grace of a weaselly cat, she forced the rusty window open, back bent to pass through the small passage with minimum sound as her feet hit creaky and old metal, its foundations unstable and shifting with the wind; she made a quick job out of getting down to solid ground and tried to make up a map out of this zone of the QZ based on hers and Riley’s later explorations.
With the fireflies and FEDRA’s constant feuds, most buildings tended to suffer from immediate and very loud engineering methodical changes through time (AKA: bombs), so it was common for them to stumble onto new paths or quarantined zones here and there.
Luckily enough, this wasn’t one of these days, and Ellie made her way easily enough through the peripheral range of the flea market where people tended to stick their pamphlets; the common folk when they had some problem like plumbing issues or a sudden and innocent need for cocaine or murder or sex or all of those (which… yeah, Ellie had seen her fair amount of. Thank you degenerates of Boston,) and FEDRA when they needed some immediate slave labour after one majour fuck-up or two.
Those were the safer ones, since you were more likely to get paid after all was said and done.
In another strike of luck that was starting to make her worried for the other shoe to drop, she found exactly what she was looking for: a chance to slave away her night in exchange of the few cards which would grant her her daily fill of roasted rat.
Her feet started walking before she could think better of wandering all the way into the outskirts of the QZ, but she was already signing up (under the fake name of Veronica) with the guard for the on-going cleaning site from some firefly squibabble when her brain put two and two together and told her all the dangers of going this far into an un-registered work around frustrated-by-life men during the dark hours of the night.
Well…
Too late to back out now, so she set her shoulders square and chose herself some good enough place that had a few women working around.
It was around one or two hours later that the other shoe dropped, right around the time clouds gathered around the full moon and chased away the weak light Ellie had to go around and not stab her foot into some bigass rusty nail; then, since she had been on such a lucky strike, the clouds decided to piss all over the QZ, starting from some harmless drops and evolving into some real diarrhea bullshit as the rain seemed to sink like bullets all over her.
By that point forward the people started to dwindle, chased away by the threat of some terrible disease like cancer, and soon Ellie had nothing but the silence of her own affected breath and the heavy gunfire of rain over the roof; the absence of people grumbling and gossiping around her was a black hole where there was only her and herself, and soon its singularity drove her into a trance of collecting and delivering trash from here to there, a place with no thoughts or time or even the painful drive of hunger inside.
“Hey! You two!”
The familiar voice jumpscared her out of her mindless labour, a smidget of panic on the back of her head from the sudden voice of the guard who, now that she paid more attention, was familiar, “I've no desire to freeze my ass off out here, so y'all wrap it up so I can get off this damned storm, will ya?”
“Bold words for a chicken shit hidden under the roof”
Ellie scoffed, just vaguely worried about the dumbass hearing her; Jake wasn’t her friend by any means, but they grew up in the same buildings for a while, when he was still young enough to be on the children’s side of military training, so she at least knew he wasn’t some trigger-happy freak.
What is he now, eighteen?
Wait, ‘you two’?
Jake was talking some more, but Ellie was much more concerned with the newcomer (when had he arrived? Ellie had been certain there wasn’t anyone else sharing air and misery with her) whose eyes she felt burning on her back; when she turned to confront the asshole, acutely aware of the switchblade left all the way back in her room, the dude had already given her his back, finishing some not-very-gentle words that had Jake backening up like the chicken he was.
Not that Ellie blamed him this time, Asshole Dude was tall, and his broad shoulder made up for quite the menace of a figure.
Still, she heard the promising words of double payment (and what was that about additionals?), and made a few risky steps over, enough that the man turned his head to meet her glare head on for a moment, enough for her to scowl and look for the broken pipe she had hidden in her pocket after the first time the man stared her down, which seemed to give him the hint and turn away.
Take that, bastard.
Still, not a minute later eords were coming out of her lips before she could think better of attracting the man’s attention on her again:
“Three.”
“What?”
Ellie fumed, trying to square her own shoulders like the other two had done, “The three of us, I've been here for just as long as him.”
The son of a bitch (literally, as Ellie knew for a fact from growing up near him) frowned, eyes jumping from The Asshole to her as if trying to figure out if the man would defend her claim or whatever.
Which, very unlikely. She was by herself.
That was a well-known fact.
With the exception of Riley, but Riley was the exception of many things. She was cool like that.
“Aren’t ya supposed to be in the Hole?”
Oh, so he did recognize me, the bastard.
Ellie toom a large foot closer to him, trying to not think much about the tank of the man that was now staring her down right beside her; she wasn’t sure if Jake was shagging that other guard for the occasional marijuana, but that sounded like a good threat in her mind.
“Jake, I swear, if you say anything I will tell people about your b-”
“Not accusing or anythin’, just got curious, is all” Jake raised both his hands, condensingly, which only made her angry “Thought you were gonna stay there until hell froze.”
“Sure felt like it.”
“Guess so,” Jake said, running his fingers around some of the dusty, coloured papers that made up their current currency, “What was it this time? Don’t tell me it was-’’
“Fucking Bethany, as just about ninety percent of all times they threw me there, yes.”
The other snorted, handing her a handful of papers; her stomach rolled around itself in anticipation for the sweet viruses she’d get from her cherished rat guts.
“Yes, the other 10 percent are ‘cuz you’re a sweet innocent angel, ain’t them now?’’ He nodded to The Dude, handing what she was sure was more than her own gains that night, but she’d pick her battles for now, seeing as Jake had already turned tail and ran off to his fancy guard room.
Leaving her alone with The Dude.
She stared at him, then past him to where the road opened into the starting bits of light from the flea market, then back to him, only to see the man already scowling in her direction.
Her heart did a somersault in her chest, adrenaline high and cold in her veins as she jumped back and mustered all the anger she had left this late into the night, and almost tripped into the flooding sewage water up her ankles.
“The hell you’re staring at, old shit?”
The Asshole had the nerve to roll his eyes, tight shoulders relaxing a bit under the heavy rain and spine curving enough to lose a few inches in height.
Not that it made much of a difference, she was twelve and starving, not much growing to do.
“You’re in my way. The hell you doin’ out here still? It’s past bedtime for ten years old.” he grumbled, voice now much more tamer but just as annoyed as before.
Ellie forced her heart to stop beating so damn fast, and answered him without missing a beat:
“Waiting for you to get out of my way.”
Bastard had the nerve to look around them before answering, “Road large enough for the two of us, I reckon.”
She glared at him for all but a moment before giving him the one finger salute (as named by Riley) and, fast as a light, backtracked some feet away least he started swinging her head into the concrete or something like that in lieu of answer; they stared at each other for some tense seconds while distance grew between before Ellie decided it safe enough and gave him her back, sprinting into the nearest alley.
She would have to be fast if she wanted to catch the market still open; the guy was using the route she had planned to use, so she would need to turn at some point to head back to her treasure.
Roasted rat waited for her in the market.
The whole deal had already fled his mind when Joel turned on yet another road, having decided to pass by the market and look for something to eat this late in the night; by personal experience he knew the rats were the last of his worries, given the absolute lack of care for pretty much any food so many hours past FEDRA’s usual patrols, but eating now meant he’d be able to work early in the morning without much issues, so here he was, heavy feet paddling through the gaping maws of water puddles and running sewages, all filled to the brim from the endless rain.
The old papers were a heavy presence inside his bag, a physical proof of his inability to accompany Tess, and he knew she’d chew him out for working under the threat of getting sick for this long if she was here, but alas: she wasn’t.
Tess was going all alone out there which was far dumber than him working under rain for a few hours.
Regardless: Food.
One foot after the other, turning here and there to keep himself to the less crowded alleys, his non-deaf side started picking up on the ruckus of people shouting their business in the air, all the way down the cul-de-sack; just a few more minutes and he’d get close enough to smell the unseasoned meat and the occasional vegetables.
The work had taken its toll on his muscles, limbs working in a sluggish pace under the rain that had, luckily, subdued to a faint drizzle. Enough to numb most sounds around him and to keep his body cold and alert, as well as the ground slippery and treacherous, but Joel would take whatever stroke of good luck he had.
Lord knew it wasn’t much anyway, most of them often came tailed by misfortune of disastrous proportions.
Which was why he should have expected the harsh shove against his shoulder, world silent on his deaf side as he struggled to get back his bearings and swinging a fist at the unexpected attacker, getting one blind strike in at a bony shoulder before both of them fell to the ground.
The assailant yelped, and Joel froze.
It was a kid.
The kid who had all but turned tail and ran off half an hour earlier, her eyes wide and unfocusing as she wagged her head around beside him, hands cradling her forehead while something red and sticky ebbed through shaking fingers .
Blood.
It was blood.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit, SHIT.
Joel was unaware of his body moving, adrenaline shooting straight into his veins with the old, unused force of sprinting towards a small child falling down a tree.
Back then he’d expect a red bruise, maybe a sprained ankle, a need for reassurance which only a parent could give that no, you ain’t losing the leg, dear-
Not the blood curling scream that tried to escape from the girl’s mouth as he approached, only silenced by the spit in which she choked on; the entire picture made up for a grotesque scene, blood flowing in wild rivulets down her face as the little body tried to scramble backwards, not much coordination in her flailing limbs due to the more than likely concussion.
Joel was sure that every man worth their salt would have jumped at the chance to smash his face against the wall if they came across the alley at that moment.
As things were, he was glad they were not yet that close to the flea market.
“Hey,- hey, calm down-”
“-off, get off-! Get-” The girl spat, glaring with furious eyes and retreating with frightened limbs, obviously having trouble formulating those words.
“It’s okay, I ain’t-” A fist went straight at his face, which he easily caught but had to strangle down a yell as soon as cutting pain shot from his hand; looking at it, he noticed the glint of metal tightly gripped in her hand, the other end of it a wicked and poorly made blade cutting into the meat of his palm, “Oh you little shit-”
Joel yanked it off her grip easily enough, throwing the offending weapon far away somewhere over his shoulder, and saw the beginning of a scream in her mouth.
A sickness burnt in his stomach, strong enough to taste bile up in his tongue as he saw her face, panicked and red with blood; regardless, the nineteen years of surviving and smuggling around happy-triggered guards kicked in first, and before any sound could come out he pressed a hand down her mouth, harsh enough to feel the teeth beneath.
The reaction was immediate: the girl started thrashing against him, kicking and punching but still too weak and uncoordinated from the head trauma.
“Calm down, I just wanna check- kid, sto-”
Flinching away to avoid getting his eyes scratched out, Joel growled as she managed to swing at his jaw with surprising force, ignoring her muffled battle cries as he took hold of both her hands and forced her to meet his eyes:
“Calm. The fuck. Down”
She gave him a look, a glint that could have almost passed for a challenge in her eyes, before kneeling him in the groin.
His vision blacked out for all but one second, back hitting the ground as his brain tried to get back to life, which was enough for The Brat to rush to her feet and step away, quick like a spooked deer.
Too fast.
Much like he knew would happen, the quick movement made her pressure crash to the ground, dizzy and concussed head sending her stumbling back into to the floor; Joel repressed the urge to laugh in revenge, if only because his lungs were still too out of air to spare him his petty amusement.
At least this time she didn’t hit her head, he thought, letting his head fall back and lying on the ground in a weirdly peaceful moment while his body went back on its tracks.
After what could have been either a second or an hour in shared misery, he turned his head to the girl, who had yet to get up from the ground.
“Calmed down already?”
“Fuck off.”
He deserved that one.
“Sorry for grabbin’ you,” Joel grumbled, annoyed but aware of that much, “You’re bleedin’... pro’bly concussed too.”
“Yeah, no shit Sherlock” the girl finally turned to glare at him, frowning like the slow movement pained her much,“Not gonna apologize for kicking you. You deserved it, asshole.”
A snort forced its way out of his throat, and Joel grinned despite himself, forcing his body back to work and groaning when his back complained.
“You don’t even know who Sherlock is, do you?”
The girl didn’t even dignify him with an answer, sitting up on the flooded street extra carefully, head still painted with blood; it was a wonder she still had her wits in her. His insides twisted as he watched her stagger to her feet, and he forced himself up as well.
“Lemme see-”
“Fuck off, pervert-”
Joel rolled his eyes, annoyance winning over the worry in his chest, “You’re the one who crashed us both to the ground, dipshit.”
“Yeah, cuz you were in my way.” She shot back, but Joel could see in her eyes she knew it was a weak point, she had been the one to choose the opposite direction earlier, though he didn’t blame her.
Girl’s smart. A brat, but smart nonetheless, he accepted, glancing at the shallow cut in his palm. Resourceful. Quick thinker too.
“Let me dress it, at least,” Joel tried, quite sure of the answer regardless.
“I know how to dress wounds, dickhead,” the girl snarled, head going from him to the maw of the market, some streets behind him, “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
Who’d have guessed.
He grimaced, nodding a bit to show her his incredulity, before fully looking at her; girl had the calm set of a plate of wood, legs wired to scamper in a second’s notice if he tried to do anything remotely damning in her mind, though Joel had his doubts at how well she’d handle a sprint right now. Her hand had lowered from her still bleeding head, now cradling her left shoulder, and Joel winced when he remembered punching it some minutes ago.
“Yes, and from where I’m standing, you seem to be doin’ a phenomenal job,” Joel mocked, watching in satisfaction as anger rose up her face; in lieu of an answer, she raised her middle finger.
He dug through his pockets, crossing the distance between them in a few strides and uncaring of the limping backsteps the girl tried to do.
He threw the wet rag of gauze in her face.
“You asshole.”
He snorted, checking to see if anything was amiss in his pockets or ziplook bag, already turning back to his previous path, “Says who?”
“Your mom.”
“Damn right.” Joel said without missing a beat, watching over his shoulders as her eyes went to him, the market, and the empty street in the opposite direction with a grimace, “Now go to bed, you little rascal, before I get the guards.”
“Oh please do, so I can tell them you attacked me out of nowhere.”
“You knocked into me, brat.”
“Details, details,” She shrugged, before nodding to herself with a severe set of lips and backing away, never giving him her back, into the opposite direction; only when there was several feet between them did she turn. Joel watched some more as she secretly wrapped the gauze around her head in the distance and sped up her strides.
He kept looking until the vague silhouette went invisible, and only then did he move his eyes to the blood oozing from his open palm, using his other hand to keep pressure there since he had given away his gauze to the brat.
“What is she, ten?”
One day gone