The uncharacteristic, abrupt way he entered the house and slammed the door behind him, was a sign of his obvious frustration. Ellie, who had been sitting at the kitchen table as she nurtured a headache, raised her head to get a good look at him: stubbled jaw tense, aged lips in a hard line, and a furrowed brow.
Joel was pissed at something, and spectacularly pissed at that.
It was such a rare occurrence to have him blatantly express emotion, that it briefly allowed her to forget the throbbing at her temples and the faint nausea that bubbled in the pit of her gut.
She had admittedly felt like hell all day, and had resorted to taking the rest of the day off from the stables, per Maria's orders. In fact, she had been posted in the kitchen for at least an hour, enjoying her peace and quiet, before Joel had been so kind as to barge inside. Yet, as she watched him fumble and then kick his boots across the living room floor, she felt something that mimicked satisfaction.
"Fuckin' asshole," he murmured angrily to himself, and released a breath that he'd been holding.
Ellie felt her lips twitch and almost turn into a smile: had she not felt so damn bad, she would have been rolling on the floor with laughter by now. It was no surprise to her that he was easily agitated, but this level of annoyance, even on his part, was a first.
"You okay, big guy?" she taunted softly from the kitchen, and he immediately stiffened as his eyes caught her own. For a moment he paused, as he had not noticed her presence, and a look of guilt almost spread across his face, before it was replaced with indigence again.
"Hell are you doin' home so early, huh?" he grumbled, and with his gaze glued to the kitchen tile, he walked right past her toward the kitchen sink. With one rough movement, he turned the cold water on, and splashed a bit on his neck.
She rolled her eyes with his back to her, and crossed her arms.
"Got off early…you know, you didn't really answer my question, Joel," she chided again, ever keen. On queue, he scoffed, and turned his head to glance at her from the sink.
"What, I answer to a fifteen year-old girl now, is that it?" he called over his shoulder, and turned away again.
"Ohhhkay, don't be a fucking asshole about it, you just… came inside a little dramatic, and obviously there's something wrong, so I asked. Don't you worry, I'll never do it again," she spat, and waited for his response.
His shoulders eased at the sink, and he sighed loudly.
"…Sorry kiddo…" he finally replied, and then turned around to assess her features. The arch of her brow and pout curve of her lip signified doubt. Truth be told, she was going for the guilt trip, and luckily it seemed to have worked.
"Really, I am. I'm not…tryin' to be an asshole," he added more softly.
"Do you…wanna talk about it?" she urged, not expecting him to budge, but initiated as always.
He sighed again before he brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and then, unexpectedly, sat down across from her at the table. Something twitched inside her stomach, which she normally would have assumed to be excitement from him actually acting like a human being, but in her current state, she froze, and leaned back against the chair. Dizziness suddenly consumed her, and she tried her best to steady herself, as he slowly broke another wall in front of her and prepared to speak.
Thank god he's distracted. Holy shit I'm dizzy…this fucking room is spinning. Ugh, get it together, he's finally trusting you, with, like…emotions! Don't ruin this Ellie, be caring and cool, just like we practiced.
"It's just…this whole fuckin' town. All the nosy neighbors and god damned do-gooders…"
As she talked herself through the listening process, she realized she hadn't heard a word of what he said. There he was, opened in front of her like a flood gate, but she was so distracted with maintaining composure, as she fought against whatever illness that threatened to take her, that she hadn't heard the beginning.
"-cause' no one can mind their own damn business, especially him-"
She blinked hard, and watched as his lips moved and his arms gestured, obviously worked up about something. It was fairly evident that the problem had something to do with Tommy, as she'd somehow managed to gain at least that much in her struggle for consciousness.
"-and bringin' you into that matter ain't none of their concern-"
Somewhere near the end of his rant, however, she noticed that her ears began to ring, and her lips began to tingle, before they went completely numb. She fluttered her lids, and felt herself stagger to one side, before she threw herself against the back of the chair as a desperate means to stabilize.
The jerk of the movement caught his attention immediately: she noticed the outline of his form stiffen.
"You're white as a ghost," he deadpanned, instantly snapped out of his little moment.
As her conscience continued to fade, she felt herself slide further, and then begin to fall.
"Ellie!" his voice echoed.
Before she'd hit the floor, he had somehow managed to run to her side and save her from a decent blow to the head. They had effectively tumbled down together in an ungraceful heap on the floor, but the heroics were there none the less. Maybe she'd come to appreciate that, given some description later on.
"Hey, hey, baby girl…can you hear me?" he prodded, suddenly gentle and voice heavy with concern, hand gripped to the base of her neck, as she was lifeless in his arms.
"Ellie? Ellie! …god damn, girl, you're scarin' me here," he added, breathless by now.
After a few seconds of unconsciousness, her eyes fluttered open, and she stared back at him in confusion.
"What the fuck…?" she managed to mumble, as she tried to piece together the lapse in memory that she currently experienced.
"You passed out cold. Did you eat today?" he prodded, and used his thumb to remove the hair that stuck to the perspiration on her forehead. She shuddered at the thought of food, which he instantly assumed was in response to his small affection, and he swallowed hard.
"Yeah, I did…this morning," she finally said, still grasping all that had happened. Joel's almost permanent frown turned into a scowl. After a moment of debate, he placed the back side of his hand against her forehead, and his eyes widened.
"Kiddo, you've got one hell of a fever," he remarked, some mix of pity and concern.
"I do?" she asked, and began to feel embarrassed by that point.
"C'mon, let's get you upstairs," he stated, and she felt herself begin to fly in his arms. The logical side of her knew this to be false, but the sick, weakened side got a rush of exhilaration from the weightless sensation. Uncontrollably, she began to giggle as they made their way up the steps.
"Uhhh, somethin' funny?" he asked, now uneasy again.
"I feel like I'm flying," she mumbled, almost incoherent.
The next few minutes were a blur as well. He'd put her in her bed, but had seemingly left the room. Soon, though, he had returned with a heap of blankets. She felt the weight of the bed dip down again, as he sat down next to her, and met her eyes with absolute, gentle concern. Big bad Joel had somehow morphed into a tender giant, and the transformation was proof to her that he was more human than he gave himself credit for at most times.
"Can you give me one of those? I'm…I'm freezing here," she finally admitted.
"I'd like to get that fever a' yours down before I go gettin' you warm. I know it ain't comfortable, but you think you could handle an ice bath?" he asked.
"To be honest, I don't even think I have the strength for that," she admitted sheepishly.
"I can carry you in there no problem," he disagreed.
"No, no…I, uh, I wouldn't be able to, you know, get my clothes off and stuff…" she added. Something in his mind raced, and though she was not sure if it was from her admission of weakness, or the potential connotation of her words, but he seemed to stop breathing for a moment.
"I'll just get you a cold rag for your forehead. You stay up here while I go get the doctor, we clear?" he added, more severe than necessary.
"Well fuck, Joel, it's not like I can run away," she grumbled as he got ready, and she almost garnered a smile from him.
"Just…calm down. Make sure you keep that rag there. I'll be right back," he gave her arm a warm nudge before getting up, and paused at the door for a moment to look back at her.
After a moment of debate, he quickly ran to get Gregg, the town doctor. Joel had a notion it was just the flu, but if the case called for more serious intervention, or a batch of antibiotics that the town did not have, he'd be ready to go and search for some.
In about 20 minutes, he'd returned home with firm orders: it more than likely the flu, as assumed, but he'd monitor her progress carefully for the next 48 hours or so, in case she rapidly changed. The rest of the town was on the brink of the winter season, so her symptoms were not uncommon, but truth be told it didn't soothe his worry.
When he entered her room again, he found her trembling frame in the bed. Slowly, he approached the mattress, and noticed her briefly at peace, with sweat beads across her brow. Ellie had effectively thrown the cold rag across the room, and he scoffed bitterly at her stubbornness.
Some force beckoned him, just like before, and he felt his hand linger over her for a moment, like he dare not touch, for fear of bringing ruin to something pure. And, yet, the same force that felt this, also told him that he would be the only one to care for her, and make her better.
Normal defenses weakened, he used the back of his fingers to brush against her clammy cheek, and she awoke instantly.
"You're a terrible patient, you know that?" he taunted, actually annoyed that she'd removed the rag, and he gestured toward the evidence on the floor.
"Well good, because you aren't a doctor. I should be alarmed at your lack of medical expertise, " she replied, and he rolled his eyes.
"Might not have a title, but I have experience, and that makes all the difference. How you feelin'?" he questioned, now serious again.
"I feel like total shit. My body hurts, and I'm cold, and everything just feels…yuck," she tried to describe, and with a rather adorable scrunch of her nose.
"Good news is I think you'll live. How long you feel this bad, anyway?" he prompted, as he'd wondered since the very beginning.
"I felt weird for a day or so, I don't know. Just kinda hit me all at once today. Maria had me go home early, that's why I was already home when you got here," she explained, somehow still chatty despite the circumstance.
"You mean to tell me she knew you were sick and just sent you home?" he prompted, the anger evident again.
"Maria's busy Joel, I'm just thankful she let me leave. Don't get your panties in a twist," she defended.
"She should have told me. And, why the hell didn't you tell me as soon as you started feelin' sick?" he added, now slightly more angry.
Typical Joel, go ahead and start lashing out because you finally care about something and you couldn't make everything perfect.
"I don't know… I guess I wasn't worried, or i just didn't want to draw attention to myself," she tried to reason.
"Well, don't do it again. You scared me a little, to be honest, and I'd like it if you told me when somethin's goin' on with you," he added, still angry but slightly more soft somehow.
"I'm sorry, it wasn't all that intentional. Plus, no offense, but you don't really tell me when things are going on with you," she accused, and he scoffed.
"True…but I'm workin' on it," he spoke, suddenly soft again.
"…Noted," she remarked, not fully convinced, and with a yawn.
"Before you fall asleep, do you think you can stomach some food?" he asked.
On queue, she nearly dry heaved on the bed, and he jumped back.
"No…no no," she mumbled, and swallowed hard.
"Ellie…do you need a trash can?" he asked, eyes severe.
"I'm fine, just don't make me eat. Please."
Some Hours Later…
When he entered her room again, he found her to be in a deep sleep. He slowly sauntered across the room to grab the small rag she'd effectively grown frustrated with early on in the healing process. Regardless of her annoyance with it, he still needed to make sure the fever didn't become too severe. After he went into the bathroom to wet the material with cold water again, he returned back to her room. With what was now becoming a routine, he sat down next to her in her bed, and gently tried to nudge her awake.
"Ellie, honey…" he soothed, only aware of his word choices after they'd escaped his mouth. Not that it was the first time, but the idea that he said them so effortlessly frightened him more than he liked to admit.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, and smiled softly.
"How long have I been out?" she asked, still confused.
"Few hours or so. How we doin'?" he asked.
"Still like shit. I'm fucking freezing, Joel, I can't stand it," she groaned, and normally he would have rolled his eyes at the dramatics, but it was evident to him that she felt awful. Of the pair, he often thought her to be the stronger one, and for her to admit a weakness was surprising to him. It was one of the reasons he continued to ask about her condition like a broken recored. Luckily for him, it did not seem to annoy her, but rather made her feel like he was concerned for her wellbeing.
"I'll grab the other blanket in my room," he stated, and rose to get up, but she grabbed his arm.
"Well don't do that! You have to sleep sometime. And then you'll be cold," she disagreed, and he scoffed.
"I'm gettin' the blanket, Ellie," he refused.
"Joel!" she protested yet again, and he spun around on his heels.
"What?" he moaned.
"Just, like, chill or something. You keep running in and out of here to keep busy. And, I know for a fact that the most effective way to generate body heat is to…you know…snuggle up to someone," she trailed off.
Joel's jaw dropped, and he all but collapsed on the floor with laughter.
"Snuggle up…is that what you just said? Have you forgotten who you're talkin' to kid?" he pressed, somewhat shocked.
"Don't act like we've never done it before," she deadpanned.
"It's different when you're in the wilderness tryin' to survive, Ellie, you know that," he reprimanded, and crossed his arms.
Something in her stomach twitched again: that was his defensive stance, the one he used when he didn't have the strength to tell her no, even if he wanted to do it.
"Joel…" she called in exhaustion, all playfulness lost.
"What now?"
"Please? I'm freezing. Not even for long…I just want to get comfortable for a second," she admitted truthfully.
His eyes narrowed across the room, and for a moment she thought he'd left, because he'd gone so silent. In response, she had turned her back on the door to bring her knees up to her chest, but was suddenly surprised when she felt the bed move, and he slowly got comfortable behind her body.
That's right…all on your terms buddy. Get comfortable, and let me snag some of that body heat. Not mention the…other benefits.
Slowly but surely, he eased closer to her, and forced his arm under her pillow, as he brought his torso to her back, and then his legs. As the final step, he eased his feet toward hers, and then shuddered at their temperature.
"Jesus Christ, girl, your feet are ice," he mumbled in her ear, and the warmth moisture tickled the workings of her ear. Normally, she'd relish in the closeness from another standpoint, as her feelings continued to evolve into something much stronger than before, but truth be told, she was so cold and restless that she just appreciated his eagerness to ease her discomfort.
Such a softy…what the hell is this feeling in the pit of my stomach?
"Thank you…for this," she finally replied, as his warmth spread through her being.
With one arm under the pillow, he brought the rag up to her forehead. Instantly she shuddered from the coolness, but before she could protest he quietly shushed her small groan of displeasure. Many years ago, he recalled a small girl who'd had the same reaction to keeping a cool rag on her feverish forehead: luckily, he'd learned even then that it was difficult to get comfortable, and so he'd sleeplessly held the rag to her as she'd rested. Then, however, he'd had the luxury of drugstore medicine, and his eagerness to get Sarah's fever down was mostly from his own anxiety. Now, however, he felt it actually was his duty, though the loving reward in the pit of his stomach was still the same.
After a few minutes, she finally seemed to ease. With his other arm free, he brought it around front to rub some more heat into her arm, before he let his hand rest at the base of her neck.
"Your muscles achy?" his deep voice resonated, and she nodded, as she felt his thumbs knead little circles into her neck, and back, and arms. Finally, she felt herself begin to drift back to sleep.
His rough, hardened hands on her soft, ivory skin was such a sharp contrast that it hurt him to look: it seemed too definitive of their entire relationship, or bond, or whatever it was that had happened on the journey and continued to happen now. Yet, the small creature in front of him finally dozed into a peaceful sleep, and the satisfaction he got from at least soothing her enough for that made it worth all the rest of the confusion that ached in his being.
Some hours later, she awoke again in his arms, and as always, he was already wide awake. There was some watchful quality he felt the need to enforce with her, especially while sick…possibly some repressed paternal instinct from long ago, which monitored her in awe as she slept.
With his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply when he noticed that she had stirred, almost as a last minute effort to enjoy (yes…joy…it had unfortunately developed into that at least an hour into the process) her the way she was now.
At peace, and happy, and safe.
"Good mornin' baby girl," he praised affectionately, voice husky.
"Good morning…" she replied, deeply moved that he had stayed with her through the night. Just like the old times, only she did not feel it was out of obligation in this instance, and that alone was so satisfying.
"I'm gonna need you to eat this morning, all right?" he added softly.
"Ugh, I'd rather not," she disagreed, but was thankful to have been able to stomach the idea.
"I know, I know…but just a little somethin'," he persisted.
"I don't think it's all that necessary, I'll probably puke in the kitchen," she tired to sway him away.
"I'll take my chances," he replied curtly.
"Okay, but I just really don't want to… I've rested up like a good patient, I think that deserves a reward," she bargained.
"You're right, and I kept you warm last night when I'm not even a snuggler, so you've already gotten it," he taunted playfully.
"Yes you are, you big fucking softy. You're like a big old bear," she accused, and he snorted.
"Just eat for me this mornin' and I'll make it worth your while," he added somewhat suggestively, and ignored her previous comment.
Her stomach leapt, in a good way.
"Oh, really? Continue…" she trailed off.
"Hot bath water for a week," he mumbled like it was nothing.
"You're shitting me!" she yelled in disbelief.
"No, I'm serious. We can shake on it, if you want," he added.
The promise in his voice made her want to giggle like a school girl with glee.
In a few days time, she'd come to make a full recovery, as expected. He may not have been a doctor, but it was certain he'd once been a father, and that sort of compassionate touch she'd seen bits of before was hopefully well on the mend and soon to make a full return.
A/N: I really just needed some fluff in my life. I'm in the process of writing a Chapter 2, and we're going to see Joel come down with some yucky bug too. Ellie's thrilled to help, but he's totally not having it. Fluff and humor ensue. Huzzah!