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He’s been more of an asshole than usual, and that’s saying something. He’s not stupid, he knows everyone’s avoiding him for that exact reason. Still, he’s liable to explode and say some nasty words he doesn’t mean if anyone comes complaining to him about something, so he appreciates the quietness.
It’s been a long while since he’s felt this anger inside him. Granted, it’s not the same type of anger he’s been used to during these last 20 or so years, when he felt the need to strangle someone or straight up bash their skull. No. This anger he hasn’t felt for much much longer than that. Not since some other teenager decided to test his limits in what seems like a different life.
Teenage stupidity survives even the apocalypse, he guesses. It somehow comes pre-installed in the human brain, no matter the circumstances. It shouldn’t surprise him though, especially knowing who he’s dealing with. Not like he hasn’t lived first-hand the type of shenanigans his kid is liable to take part in, or better yet, create herself.
Still, one thing is annoying the living shit out of him or Tommy, or doing some harmless shit like stealing beef jerky from the Bison or skipping class to do God-knows-what. That, he understands. That, he can let pass with a simple shake of his head and a, truthfully, useless promise to not do it again.
What happened today though, is not something he can just glare over. He can’t just softly slap the back of her head like usual and call it a day, it wouldn’t be enough to either make her understand the stupidity of her actions, nor make the anger flowing through his veins dissipate any faster.
“You gonna glare at that piece of wood any longer or are you gonna get to work soon, hermano?” The hand that claps him in the shoulder is gone as soon as it landed, probably noticing the tension in his whole body. “Wow, okay. What did Ellie do this time?” A light chuckle escapes his brother’s mouth. “Did she fall off the skateboard I gave her the other day? ‘Cause I swear to god, Joel, I told her to wait for me to teach her, not-”
“Leave it, Tommy.” The growl in his voice surprises even himself, but it does the job. “I’ll get back to work.” He doesn’t even spare his brother a glance as he walks away, hammer in hand. He needs to hit something, whether that is a nail or wall, he’ll take either.
Thankfully, Tommy seemed to take him seriously and left him alone to forcefully nail some boards in peace. For an hour or so, that is. It doesn’t even surprise him when the younger man leans carelessly on the wall he’s working on. “Move away, Tommy, or I’m gonna hit you.” The bastard just scoffs with a smile, arms crossed.
“You and I know you wouldn’t do that.” At the angry glare thrown his way, he chuckles. “Not because you love me, mind you. Because you’re scared of what Maria might do to you.” The fucker gives him a cheeky smile he’s more than used to, and instead of arguing with him, he simply turns away and leaves the hammer on the table. “Jokes aside, you gonna tell me what’s going on?”
Leaning on the table, his knuckles flat on the dirty surface, he takes a deep breath. “I’m too angry.” Is all he says. Instead of letting it end there, Tommy moves one of the chairs from under the table and sits down.
“I’m more than used to your anger, hermano. You know that.” His younger brother just stares at him, waiting, because he knows that sooner rather than later, he’ll break. He’s seen it more than enough times already.
“I- I can’t.” He huffs and takes out the other chair under the table with much more force than necessary, all but throwing himself on it.
“Is it about Ellie?” Tommy stays calm, even when he watches him furiously rub the heels of his hands on his eyes.
“Of course it’s about Ellie.” His younger brother simply waits. “She-” a sigh escapes from deep within his chest. “We had an argument the other day about summer coming up and her being tired of having to wear long sleeve shirts and bandages and such to hide her…” taking a quick look around and seeing no one, he continues. “Her bite.”
Leaning back on his chair and crossing his feet on the table, Tommy chuckles. “You have that same argument every couple of weeks, hermano. That’s not news to anyone.”
“Well, this time was different.” He runs a hand through his hair, flickers of wood chips quickly falling to the ground. “She sounded different. Like she had made up her mind about something. I felt it. I just-” closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. “I guess I just didn’t want it to be true.”
Sensing his brother was angry about more than a measly argument, Tommy lowers his boots from the table and leans forward. “What did she do?” His voice is nothing more than a whisper, most likely scared of what the fifteen-year-old must’ve been reckless enough to do. “Is she- is she okay?”
“She’s at home. Nadia is keeping an eye on her.” Tommy’s eyes slowly widen at the mention of one of the clinic’s staff.
“Joel, what did she do?” He presses, eager but scared to find out what really happened.
“She burned her goddamned skin off.” It comes out almost like a whisper, but the younger man catches it nonetheless.
“She burned-” pinching the bridge of his nose, Tommy takes a few deep breaths. “How did she even get the idea to do that?”
“Don’t know.” Tilting his head back, he closes his eyes. “Her whimpering woke me up this morning.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah.” A tense silence builds around them.
“And why the fuck are you here and not with her, exactly?” His little brother doesn’t simply sound confused, he sounds angry, at him, of all people.
“Because I’m angry, Tomás.” He fights back. “Because every time I even glanced at the bandage it made my blood boil, and right now, I don’t want to fight with her, not again. So I gave both of us some space.” He knows it’s selfish, that he’s supposed to be there for her, taking care of his wounded kid, but the panic and deep-rooted anger that courses through him just thinking about it, makes him stand by his decision even more.
“You’re a selfish fucker, you know that?” The crude words don’t surprise him, and with a single scoff, he crosses his arms, ready for Tommy’s lecture. “She’s a kid, Joel. Your kid.” He bites the inside of his cheek at the verbal confirmation coming from the younger man, but stays quiet. “You can be angry, you can be upset, you can be scared, ‘cause I know that’s what you are right now, old man. Scared. That’s why you’re here beating the shit out of some nails and fucking up perfectly good planks.” He steals a glance at said planks, noticing he did in fact do a poor job at it.
“Of course I’m fucking scared, Tomás.” He barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes. “I’m terrified. I know that. That ain’t the issue here.”
“Then what is? And if you say you’re angry one more time, big brother, I swear to God I’ll punch you to next week.” He opens his mouth to retort, but stops himself at the deathly glare Tommy sends his way. “You ain’t doing yourself, or her for that matter, any favors by being here, hermano. Please tell me you know that?”
“I-” Pressing his palms a bit too roughly against his aching eyes, he takes a deep breath before barely whispering. “Yeah, I know.”
And he does. Of course he knows, but everything that happened, the burn, the pain, the damn fight, the stupid words that were thrown around… all of it comes back to haunt him, and the coward in him makes him stay in place.
13 hours ago.
“Ellie! Dinner’s ready!” As always, she threw herself off the couch and ran through the living room quickly enough to slide in her socks to the table. “Ellie.” He scolded not for the thousandth time.
“Joel.” She snarked back, trying to copy his tone. He knew better than to make her stop.
“Sit down and eat like a normal person, please.” With a salute, she did what she was asked, for once.
“Aye aye, cap’n.” Taking his spot right in front of her, he handed her some water. “Thanks.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, broken from time to time with his usual questions about her day. It was all extremely average, a routine they were comfortable and happy with, something he never thought he’d have again. It didn’t last too long though.
“It was fucking hot in class today, but because fucking Laura, was chilly, Ms. Hernandez didn’t let us open the window, so I sweat all through English class, which fucking sucked.” She stopped eating after that, pushing her peas around her plate as she kept complaining. “Then the fucking bitch-”
“Ellie.” He knew he wouldn’t stop her from cursing every other sentence, but he would damn well try.
“Sorry. The freaking bitch-” he sighed, accepting the small win. “She kept bothering me about rolling up my sleeves if I was that hot, that it wasn’t ‘very smart of me to wear long sleeves mid April'." She mocked the kid’s voice. “I hate that bitch.” She mumbled under her breath, still loud enough for him to hear.
“Don’t listen to her, kiddo.” Was all he could offer. It might’ve been the wrong thing to say.
“That’s not the problem, Joel. It’s that she’s fucking right.” Her eyes shot daggers towards him and it made him flinch, knowing what fight was about to happen. “It’s bearable now, but what about in a few months? Summer here is awful, Joel, the kids in my class have told me about it. I don’t want to burn to death.” She whined almost like a little kid.
“Baby-”
“I need to do something about it, man. I refuse to get a fucking heat stroke just because I can’t wear fucking short sleeves of all things.” Her fork bounced on her plate from the way she let it fall, making him wince.
“It’s for your own good, kid. You know that.” He used the same excuse each time it came up, but it didn’t make it any less true.
“Do I?” She scoffed, crossing her arms with a scowl, her chair almost tipping backwards from how carelessly she leaned back.
“Of course you do.” He shot back, not too convincing. “We’ve talked about this a million times, Ellie. The scar is clearly a bite, it can’t pass as anything else. The second someone sees it…” he took a second to take a shaky breath. “We ain’t discussing this any longer. You’ll wear either long sleeves or a bandage, but you can’t under any circumstance, leave it out in the open. We clear?”
“No we ain’t fucking clear.” Her eyes twitched from the contained anger, he didn’t notice it in time, pressing even harder instead of letting it go.
“Ellie, this is not a joke.” His hand grabbed the edge of the table with slightly too much force. “Don’t make me check every morning what you’re wearing and what you’re packing in your bag, because I swear kid, I would if need be.” He knew he was being too strict, but the thought of anyone seeing her scar and taking matters into their own hands scared him to death.
“You can’t do that!” Her fist hitting the table made their plates shake, his fork falling to the ground.
“I sure can, ‘cause it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, and if doing that is what it takes, so be it.” Standing up, she made her chair topple to the ground.
“I can take care of myself, Joel.” His name in her mouth sounded like venom.
“You are fifteen years old, kid. You can’t take care of yourself.”
“Oh, and you can? Who died and made you God?” Her voice got louder and he wasn’t any better.
“No one, but I’m your pare-” he stopped himself, but she still caught it.
“You are not my fucking dad, Joel.” Her hands shook, clearly distressed, but he was too angry to notice. “You aren’t anyone’s dad, for that matter.” His body stilled, hers shook even harder, her eyes wide as saucers as she took in her own words. “I- I didn’t-”
“Ellie.” His tone lowered, bordering on threatening. “I would stop talking if I were you.” She did, and the argument would’ve ended there if he had followed his own advice. “I might not be your father, but I’m the closest you’ll ever get to have one.” First mistake. “So you listen to me.” Second mistake. “I tell you to keep it covered, you keep it covered. No buts or ifs. Covered.” Final mistake.
The back of her hand rubbed against her teary eyes quickly. “You’re a fucking asshole.” As she walked away, his heart shrank, his breathing almost failing. For a second he considered letting it fail completely.
Present day.
“Jesus Christ, brother.” He’s a bit worried about the amount of pressure Tommy’s inflicting on his own eyes, his hands pressed tightly against them. “You two are a couple of idiots, you know that?” As his little brother leans forward, he can clearly see the vein popping out on his forehead. Definitely mad, then. “Have you had a real talk with your kid? Or are you so fucking emotionally constipated that you can’t ever sit her down and clearly explain your situation?” Standing up, he nearly throws his chair to the wall. “Not her dad, my ass.”
“Tommy-”
“You are gonna get the fuck out of here and go the hell home to be with your kid.” Grabbing the hammer from the table, he carelessly throws it to the corner of the room, where all the remaining planks are. “Because I’m tired of you two fighting over the stupidest things-”
“Stupidest things?” This time, it’s he who stands up agitated. “She burned her goddamn skin off her forearm, Tommy. There ain’t nothing stupid about it.”
“And why do you think she did that, huh?” Tommy’s face is turning red, and the only reason he’s not yelling is because somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows there are a lot of people on the lower level of the house. “Don’t you think that if she had the certainty that she could talk to you about this stuff, she would?” Running his hands through his hair, Tommy starts to pace around the room. “Goddamn it, Joel. Just talk to the kid. You’ve had this before, you still do. But she hasn’t-”
“This? What the fuck are you-”
“A family, Joel.” The younger man stops and takes a deep breath. “A fucking family, asshole.”
“She knows-”
“She does not.” Tommy’s finger presses against his chest. “Because you won’t talk to her.” Clenching his jaw for a few seconds, he deflates. “You know what she said to me the other day? When I asked her if she was excited to participate with her friends in the race we’re having during family day next week?” Joel simply shakes his head. ”She said, and I quote, ‘why the fuck would I participate in that? That event’s not for me, dude.’” His heart pounds loudly in his chest, making it a bit more difficult to breathe than usual.
“I-”
“Talk. To. Your fucking kid, Joel.” Scoffing, Tommy walks away, murmuring to himself loud enough for him to hear. “Two fucking emotionally constipated idiots, Jesus Christ. Why do I have to…” He just watches him disappear through the door, his hands shaking.
It takes him a few minutes to get his breathing under control and have enough strength to walk out of the site, his body walking itself home, his brain too busy recounting all the times he’s failed his kids, especially his youngest. He has a real knack for doing that, he guesses.
The house is quiet except for the soft noise of the TV in the living room. He takes his time talking off his boots, trying not to make too much noise in case Ellie’s sleeping, but also to selfishly delay the inevitable.
“Hey.” He whispers once he enters the room, Nadia trying not to fall asleep while watching Jurassic Park - figures - and Ellie completely conked out next to her. “Thank you for looking after her for me.” The woman simply smiles softly while standing up and gathering her things.
“No problem, Joel. She was a delight.” Raising an eyebrow, he takes one more look at the kid, wondering if she was talking about the same person. Noticing his reaction, Nadia chuckles. “Really, she was a really good patient.” Walking her to the door, he opens it for her. “I left a list of everything she’ll need to do for the next two to three weeks to avoid getting the wound infected.” Nodding, he makes a mental note to hang that paper on the fridge. “I assume you’ll be helping her with that?”
“Yes, ma’am. That was the plan.” He then gets a bit surprised when her hand squeezes his arm.
“She’s a good kid.” He nods, a knot on his throat. “Whatever she’s going through, she needs to know she’s not alone.” One more squeeze. “You’re a good dad, Joel.” The knot tightens even more. “You’ll figure it out.”
His voice nearly cracks when he tries to speak. “Thank you. I don’t-” he clears his throat. “I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Just get me some of your brother’s delicious empanadas and we’re square.” With one last nod, he closes the door, resting his forehead against it to take one deep breath.
“Joel?” Her voice sounds tiny and it just makes him want to bawl his eyes out.
“I’m here, baby.” Rubbing his eyes to avoid any tears from coming out, he walks back into the living room, where Ellie now sits up on the couch, her forearm bandaged carefully. “How’re you feeling?” He quietly asks as he sits down next to her, extending his hand until it rests on her foot. She simply shrugs, resting her chin on her knee. “You had lunch?” Another shrug. Sighing, he squeezes her foot before standing up. “Well, I’m gonna go make some scrambled eggs and grilled cheese. Want some?” He tries to be subtle with his side glance, waiting for her to perk up at the mention of her favorite meal. Unsurprisingly, it only earns him another shrug.
She then follows him like a ducking, her head lowered almost like a penance, making his heart clench. “Why don’t you help me with the sandwich? You can sit on the counter stool, I’ll bring out the ingredients and deal with the eggs.”
They work in a silent tandem for roughly twenty minutes until the food is cooked and the table is set. Then the silence continues while they eat, but this time - contrary to most others - the silence is utterly uncomfortable. Ellie hunches on her seat, her gaze never leaving the plate, slowly munching on what’s supposed to be the ‘best fucking things she’s ever eaten’, as she put it months ago when she first tried grilled cheese.
As he leaves his utensils on the table, not able to stomach any more eggs, he watches her do the same with her sandwich.
“Ellie-”
“I’m-” Their gazes meet, surprised by the sheer coincidence.
“Go ahead, baby.”
“I just-” she rubs the back of her hand against her nose. “I’m sorry.” It comes out as nothing more than a whisper, but it still reaches his ears. “I didn’t-” her gaze falls back to her plate and her breath hitches, almost as if trying to force down tears. “I didn’t mean to scare you this morning.” He sighs.
“Kiddo.” He runs a hand over his beard, making another mental note to trim it. “You don’t need to apologize for that, okay?” Her eyes meet his for a few seconds, confused. “I’m not mad about you scaring me, I’m mad about what you did. Do you understand that?” Finally understanding his reasoning, the kid frowns and carelessly leans back against her chair. “Can you understand that I’m mad about you hurting yourself, baby?” His voice softens and her anger dissipates, replaced by a tremble on her lower lip.
“I’m- I- I- I- I had to, Joel.” She hastily runs her arm over her eyes. “I couldn’t- I- I- I couldn’t take it anymore.” Leaning forward, he extends his hand and exhales as her smaller one holds onto it.
“Baby-” he blinks a few times to keep his tears at bay. “You can’t hurt yourself like this, okay?”
“I wasn’t doing it to hurt myself, Joel. I promise I wasn’t.” Her eyes are pleading, it just makes his chest ache so much more.
“But you did, kiddo. Can’t you see that?” Her hand squeezes him to the point of aching.
“I just- I wanted it gone. And you- you- you didn’t understand. You didn’t- didn’t listen, and- and- and I didn’t know how to- to- to do it, but I- I- I- needed it gone. And- and-” tears finally start flowing down her cheeks and he can’t take it any longer, standing up and kneeling next to her, pulling her in for a hug. She melts into it, her tears soaking his t-shirt, but he’s no better, his eyes flooding and his breathing shaking.
“I’m here. I’m here, baby. It’s alright.” He whispers against the back of her head. He holds her close, his hand running up and down her back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’d take all your pain away if I could. I swear I would.” He mumbles shakily.
After a few minutes of soft reassurances, he softly pulls away, cupping her face so he can clean the tears from her cheeks. She keeps hiccuping, her body almost limp in his grasp, exhausted and scared. Leaning forward as he lowers her head, he presses a kiss to her temple, making her hiccup even harder.
“Look at me, baby. Can you do that for me?” Her eyes stay clenched shut. “Please, baby. Look at me.” His thumb rubs softly against her cheekbone and she finally opens them, red and glassy. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He sighs. “Above all else, I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”
Clenching her teeth and trying to catch her breath, Ellie rubs her eyes raw, trying to get rid of any evidence of her tears to no avail, her eyes puffy. He tries to help, albeit much gentler, caressing her face like he’s never done before with her.
“S-sorry.” She says between sniffles. “I didn’t mean to- to cry like a baby.” She moves her face away, clearly embarrassed by the whole ordeal, so he simply rests his hands on his knees, not moving an inch from his crouching position, no matter how bad his knees hurt.
“There’s no shame in crying, baby.” He admits with his own glassy eyes. She simply curls on her chair, her chin resting on her knees, scoffing at his statement. Sighing, he stands up, his knees cracking. That’ll have to be a discussion for another time.
Checking the list he remembered to hang on the fridge by a very old magnet they found under the couch months ago, he notices it’s time for another pill. Laying his hand on top of her head, he rubs gently.
“Time for some painkillers, baby.” Moving her head to the side, he moves his hand away with a sigh. No more physical contact, understood.
“It doesn’t hurt.” She mumbles against her knees.
“Well, you take this one so that it continues that way for a few more hours.” Ignoring the scoff she throws his way, he brings her the pill and a new cup of water. “Drink.” Thankfully she does, but not without a dirty glance directed at him.
A few seconds of silence pass, her eyes glued to the window while his stay on her. Leaning against the table, facing her, he runs a hand over his tired face.
“Look, Ellie-”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She doesn’t even look at him.
“Well, I do.” That earns him another dirty look.
“Well, we don’t always have to do everything you want Joel.” She keeps her gaze on him, defiant, waiting for him to fall for her bait and get angry. Angry she can do, he’s noticed. Vulnerable? Not so much. One of the many things they have in common. Seeing that he doesn’t fall for it, though, she stands up. “I’m going to my room.” He doesn’t protest as she walks away, but she stops right before reaching even the first step on the staircase at the sound of his voice.
“I was terrified this morning, kiddo.” His voice is soft, shaky, prone to crying if he keeps it up. “Waking up to piercing screams is not very pleasant. Especially when they come from your kid.” He rubs his nose as he sniffs softly. Her back is to him, but he just keeps going. “You know what my worst nightmare is?” Noticing a soft shake of her head, he takes a deep breath. “Losing another daughter.” Her shoulders tighten, her whole body stiffens.
“I’m not-”
“Yes you are.” He finally lets some tears fall silently down his face. “Yes you are.” They both take a few seconds to just breathe, which he more than appreciates, because the knot in his throat is only getting tighter. “My biggest regret in life is not being able to save Sarah. You probably guessed that.” He chuckles, no happiness in it. “I don’t know if I wasn’t fast enough or- or- or- paying enough attention. I just-” He takes a deep breath. “Whatever it was, I can’t let it happen again, kiddo. Which is why I need to keep you safe, why I almost get heart attacks when you pull any stupid stunt of yours. I can’t see you in pain. It- it- it hurts too damn much.” Her shoulders hunch, he cleans some of his tears away. “So, please, baby. Whenever you feel like- like doing that, talk to me.” A shaky nod is all he gets before she slowly makes her way upstairs.
In the eerie silence, he gets to do the dishes, his mind somewhere else as he allows himself to cry properly. Before he even finishes cleaning his first dish, two small arms wrap around his torso, a scared kid burying her face on his back.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She repeats softly like a mantra while he hastily dries his hands before turning around and wrapping his bigger arms around her. “I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.” He silently presses a kiss to the crown of her head, which makes her squish him harder.
“It’s alrigh, kiddo. It’s okay.” He murmurs against her hair.
“I won’t do it again, I swear. I swear I won’t.” Smiling softly, he pulls away just enough to see her face.
“There are no more bites to cover, so I would hope so, baby.” She chuckles and rubs her wet face against his flannel. “Jesus Christ, kid. I’m not a tissue.” Jokingly, he flicks her ear, making her giggle.
“Really? Because you are as dirty as one, old man.” Looking down to check, he finds several stains from either work or cooking.
“Well, damn. Guess you’re right.” At her smile, he purses his lips. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Scoffing playfully, she slaps his chest and pulls away.
“Asshole.” Without another word, she begins to dry the only plate he got to clean. Hand in hand, they get to wash and dry the rest of the plates in complete silence, but unlike before, the quietness is more than welcome. “Did you mean it?” Startled by her voice, he nearly drops his plate. “Careful, old man.”
“Did I mean what?” Turning the water off, he looks at her.
“What you said.” She keeps her head low as she pretends to concentrate on her task, even though she’s been drying the same plate for the last two minutes.
“I said a lot of things, kiddo.” Huffing, she grips the cloth tighter.
“What you said about- about being… your-” she sighs, blushing. “Nevermind.” His hand goes directly to the top of her head, laying heavily before scratching softly.
“Of course I meant it, baby.” She melts against his side as he pulls her closer, pressing a soft kiss right on the crown of her head.
They stay like that for what feels like hours, the two of them closer than ever before, swaying softly in place. In what feels like another life, he would be reminding her how much he loves her and how special she is to him, but although he’s not that man anymore, he doesn’t think his youngest would be too comfortable with any of it, so he reckons it’s okay.
He’ll just show her in other ways, no need to put words to it.