A/N: So. TLOU2. holy shit. holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit
There is a pause. It is heavy, filled with everything Ellie wants to say, and everything she doesn't.
"Okay." She can see his tension evaporate.
"Alright then." He replies, sighing, quietly smiling, continuing to walk. "C'mon, kiddo. Almost there."
Ellie doesn't reply.
He raps on the rusted metal gates with his knuckles. Knock knock knock.
"Tommy," he calls hesitantly, "it's Joel. Open up." A figure emerges, standing on the wooden platform above them— her eyes glint like gunmetal, steely above the barrel as she stares narrowly at them. "Maria?" Joel calls, and her gun lowers, her expression softening as recognition flashes across her features.
"Open up! They're friendlies!" She shouts down, free hand cupped around her mouth. The gates creak open as she reaches for her walkie-talkie, dipping below the fence and out of sight. Joel steps across the threshold, Ellie in tow, and feels his entire body figuratively sigh with the relative safety of the camp— he didn't realise how constantly on-edge he was on the outside until he had stepped away; now he'd had a moment of mental quietness, he had no desire to go back. Maria jogs over to them from the base of the lookout ladder.
"Joel!" She beams, pulling him in for a quick, gruff hug. "Didn't expect to see you back here so soon. And Ellie's here?"
Ellie shifts uncomfortably, her heart twisting as she is reminded of the reason why.
"Uh, yeah. Fireflies didn't work out." Joel responds in a let's-talk-about-this-later way, and Maria nods solemnly. She understands.
"Here's your camp on the settlement. Normally we'd do a tour, but y'already know your way around, so… I'll leave you guys to get settled in. Dinner's served at five, don't be late. We've grown a lot since we last saw ya— first come first served around here, I'm afraid." Tommy says, tucking his hands in his pockets as he speaks. They stand in front of what was, at some point or another, a small house. The exterior is covered in wood that is beginning to fall away, exposing the brick skeleton beneath, and the once-white paint appears more green, a mixture of moss and ivy and discolouration muddying the once sunny exterior. Most windows, surprisingly, remain intact— the few that aren't are boarded up haphazardly with corrugated metal sheets or pieces of wood. Ellie takes in the house with wide, hopeful eyes. It was the first time Joel had seen her smile in months.
"This is ours?" She asks, a glimmer of her previous, untainted self visible through her mask. Her grin bursts through the cracks in the porcelain like sunshine— It cannot be contained.
"Sure is, kid. Only the best for two of my own… we look after our family here." Tommy smiles back. Ellie's heart swells, despite her sadness and her anger and her frustration, because she finally has a family. She finally has a home. "See y'all at dinner." Tommy says. He turns and starts to walk away, waving a hand behind him as he leaves.
"Ladies first." Joel gestures, relishing this moment of child-like joy he sees in Ellie before she returns to her daily stoicism. She starts towards the house with cautious optimism, boundless curiosity. Maybe everything will be okay.
It's dark outside. Ellie sits contemplatively on her new porch, stomach full for the first time in months. It can't be for nothing. She listens intently, the subtle sounds of the night creeping into her ear: a tickle in the grass, the distant hush of the dam, quiet chirping of crickets. It's too early for fireflies— the night remains lit only by the moon, and she is grateful. She finds herself waiting for a wheezing, shuddering series of clicks, for the incoherent mumblings of the inhuman— but they never come. The night, still and peaceful, folds over her like a thick and heavy blanket. This must've been what it was like before, she thinks, this is what it could be like again. I shouldn't be here. She thinks of Tess, of her frantic pleading, of her sacrifice, and her heart twists in her chest. It's only a moment until she's thinking of Riley, too, and she feels a few tears escape, cutting through the grime on her cheeks until her skin shines white through the dirt. Footsteps echo down the hallway behind her, and she knows it's Joel purely by process of elimination. Ellie swipes at the tears with her sleeve quickly before he has a chance to see her weakness.
"Hey Kiddo. What're you doin' out here?" He says, moving to sit down next to her on the steps. Joel sighs, that old-man sigh as if he feels the weight of his years pressing down on him. "Feelin' my age now." He remarks, chuckling softly. Ellie smiles, but it's small, broken.
"I couldn't sleep." Ellie replies, drawing her knees up and resting her head on them. She stares outwards into the vast blackness of the countryside, past the safety of the fence, and tries not to picture the horrors that await them outside. She pictures them anyway.
"Me neither. I knew somethin' was on your mind." He says, and he can't help the way his eyes flicker to his watch as he speaks. There is a moment of silence, a stillness that hangs over them while each wrestle with their own individual demons.
"Was all of this for nothing?" Ellie says suddenly. "Everything we did. Everything I did." Her face is expressionless, unreadable, but her voice quivers as she chokes out the words that have been rattling around in her mind for so long. They burn as they come up her throat.
"Ellie. Listen to me. What we have, this ain't nothin'. It's family. You didn't go through hell an' back to save me for nothin'. You did it 'cause that's what family does. We look after each other."
Ellie's heart stops as if she was pulled backwards in time, another place, another quiet conversation. We fight for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it's two minutes, or two days. We don't give that up. I don't wanna give that up.
"Tess died in vain. Riley…" she says, but she cannot finish her sentence.
"Tess, she woulda wanted this. She woulda done anythin' to give us a shot at a good life. I just wish things coulda turned out different. If she were here, hell—" he pauses, and then retreats into himself. "Who knows what woulda happened. Best not to think about that what-ifs too much, I reckon." Ellie nods her head, resting her chin on her folded arms.
"You're right." She says, although halfheartedly. Her mind is filled with memories of that last night, of that last moment between them— the final kiss they shared tasted of blood— it still lingered on her lips, in her brain. If Riley was here, would she happy? Would she be content with living like this? Would she be able to just let go of her guilt? Ellie sighs and tugs her ponytail out. Her hair falls down like tears.
"She was important to you, wasn't she? Riley?" Joel says, rubbing his chin as he speaks. Where Ellie's pain is fresh, to him, pain is like an old friend. He greets it with familiarity when the memories resurface.
"She was the one person I felt like I could trust." Ellie confesses, her expression flat. "The day we got bitten— it was shitty, but there was hope, y'know? It was like, even if she was gone, she'd still have accidentally saved the world because she took me to that stupid mall. That's why I wanted to find the fireflies so bad." Ellie finishes, looking at Joel for the first time since he'd sat beside her. He feels a twinge of guilt, but he quickly pushes it to the back of his mind. It was the right choice. It was the only choice.
"I understand, Ellie. It hurts to lose a friend."
"Friend," She scoffs, shaking her head with a sad smile, "I… I loved her, I guess. Which just makes everything so much worse." Ellie stares at the ground, picking at the splintering wooden porch beneath her as she speaks.
"Oh." says Joel, too stunned to reply thoughtfully. Subtlety was a trait Joel lacked. After a moment of recovery, he spoke again.
"That's okay, kiddo. It gets easier with time. It never really goes away, but… it's somethin' you learn to deal with." Ellie nods, and Joel rises from his position on the steps. His bones creak and ache as he stands, and he lets out an involuntary huff of breath.
"Going to bed, old man?" Ellie quips, smiling teasingly up at him.
"Watch it." Joel warns her good-naturedly as he walks back up the steps, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Don't stay out too late, okay?"
"Sure." Ellie replies, turning back to the darkness of the night to turn over Joel's words in her head. Maybe it wasn't for nothing.
Her fingertips burn when she removes them from the strings.
"How can you do this?" She asks incredulously, shaking her left hand as she sets the guitar down beside her. She didn't expect music to be this painful.
"It's all practice. You'll get the hang of it soon enough." Joel says, leaning back into the cracked leather of their sofa. He puts his arms behind his head and sinks into the sagging cushions with a dog-sigh; it means neither relief or resignation, just an expulsion of breath. "I'm thinkin' it's time for me to have a nap. Teachin' you is goddamn tiring."
"Gee, thanks." Ellie grumbles sarcastically, leaning the guitar against the arm of the sofa as she stands. It makes a humming noise as it hits the wooden floor, strings vibrating as if to protest her quitting. "I'm going outside then. Maybe I'll go out with Tommy, hunt for some supplies." She says hopefully, almost like a question. She knows it's a long shot as soon as the words escape.
"Like hell you will." Joel says, eyes closed but a frown on his face.
"C'mon, it's been a month—"
"No, Ellie." Joel interrupts, opening his eyes to stare at her with his fatherly-disapproval stare. After the first week or so of relative safety, Ellie had begun to grow restless. She itched to explore, and although there was plenty of space within the confines of the camp, it had only taken her a week to familiarise herself with the new terrain. After a month, her old nomadic lifestyle was something she had started to miss sorely.
"Fine. I'll go help Maria with the horses." She says sourly. Ellie realises that there is no point in arguing. They've had this discussion hundreds of times— it goes around in circles, the answer is always the same. No Ellie, it's not safe.
It's early summer now, and the breeze is light and refreshing on her sticky skin. She leaves their front door open, knowing that Joel wouldn't mind the fresh air. It's a short walk to the 'stables', an old concrete hut that used to be filled with power tools, now lined with straw and housing the only two remaining horses after Callus' death. She had named them both: Scout and Bramble. The grey mare pushed her head over the stable door, cut in half and sanded down so that she could poke her inquisitive nose outside and rustle in pockets for the occasional apple.
"Hey girl," Ellie said quietly, stroking her neck. The horse snorted, pressing her head into Ellie's shoulder affectionately. Ellie had always felt calm around horses. They were so big and so powerful, and they reminded her that even though humanity had gone to shit, not everything was completely terrible. "Wanna go out for a walk?"
They trot through the fields at a leisurely pace. Although Ellie remains inside the fence, she always feels on-edge outside the bustling camp. The regular clip-clop of hooves breaks the silence a little, although she finds herself talking to Bramble more often than not, occasionally stopping to let her drink from the stream or nibble at some foliage.
"C'mon horsey. Pick up the pace." Ellie hisses, clicking her tongue, digging her heels into the sides of the stubborn horse. She can hear the moans of infected on the other side of the fence— while she knows they cannot break through easily, it doesn't stop the hairs on her arms from standing up. Bramble trots on reluctantly.
The sun is setting over the camp, and the bell sounds, sharp and clear into the heavy dusk. Ellie's ears prick: dinner. She strides down the main street of the camp, past the sagging store-fronts turned houses and the rusting streetlamps, half-skipping. She feels oddly cheery, even trapped within the camp— partially due to her mastery of another guitar song, partially due to the comic she had found. There is the threat of a storm, tangible in the way that the air buzzes around her as she moves through it. At least it is an evening of balmy warmth, the fading sunlight somewhat scattered by the clouds of dandelion seed and transparent-winged insects in the air. Ellie knows the streets like she knows the scars on her own body; she can make it to the mess hall with her eyes closed, just by following her nose.
There are a few other kids in the camp, but they're young enough to be annoying; Ellie avoids them whenever she can. Instead, when she enters the mess hall she sits down next to Joel, pretending not to have heard the excited shouts of Jake and Lauren.
"Hey kiddo." He says in greeting, giving her a one-armed squeeze as she gets comfortable on the bench. Tommy nods at her, and Maria smiles— Ellie stares narrowly at the trio in return.
"What do you want?" She says, gaze flickering between each of the suspiciously happy faces.
"So… We've got a surprise for you!" Maria says, beaming. "We're pretty sure that Bramble is pregnant, and we've decided you can have the foal to yourself." Ellie grins in response, eyes lighting up with rare childish enthusiasm.
"Are you serious?" She asks, looking between the trio excitedly.
"Yup. Dead serious." Joel responds gruffly. Ellie frowns.
"What's the catch?" she questions, back to staring with suspicious eyes. Joel, Maria and Tommy begin to laugh.
"Told ya," Joel smiles, "she's not as dumb as she looks." It takes Ellie a moment, but when she realises, her mouth falls open in mock offence.
"Hey!" She shoves Joel's arm forcefully enough to make the plates rattle on the wooden table. "That was totally uncalled for."
Joel chuckles. "The catch is that you train him."
"And muck out his stables and help with the birth." Maria interjects. Ellie pauses for a moment, pretending to consider their offer even though she already knows the answer. She rests her hand on her chin.
"No negotiating?"
"No negotiating."
"Done and done." She grins.
"Damn, it's hot today." Ellie remarks, legs swinging. She sits on the frail wooden fence that surrounds their porch as it creaks and groans under her weight, despite Joel's numerous warnings.
"Sure is." Joel agrees, wiping the sweat off his brow with his sleeve. Ellie is confined to long-sleeved shirts; she cannot risk anyone discovering her bite, even if she is immune. The bullet might leave the chamber before she has a chance to explain— still, at this point, death seems preferable to another minute in the sweltering heat.
"Hey Joel?" Ellie asks, looking over her shoulder at him as she speaks.
"Yeah?" He replies, setting his backpack down.
"How 'bout you finally teach me how to swim?"
The water is colder than she expected, soaking her jeans in seconds.
"Ah! Fuck! It's freezing!" She exclaims, shivering despite the searing heat of the day. Eventually she gets used to the temperature— past the initial shivering, it's surprisingly pleasant, the water lifting the grime of the day and the heat of the sun, although she can still feel the sunburn stinging on the back of her neck.
"This is a river, so it's gonna be harder. You know that right?" Joel says as he wades into the water. Ellie is waist deep, which she thinks is definitely enough for now.
"It'll be fine. Let's do this." She says, a determined grimace.
"Word of advice: keep your mouth closed. Now, take your feet off the ground." She follows Joel's instructions despite her heart hammering in her chest, ducking into the water and lifting her feet with an endearing sort of nervousness. She tries her best not to show her fear, but she sinks almost instantly, flailing and splashing wildly in the icy water.
"Ellie, you can stand. Besides, I won't let you drown." Ellie glares at him as she heaves a shuddering breath, coughing after her mouthful of river water. "I told you to keep your mouth shut."
"Ugh. I'm still damp," Ellie whines, wringing out her ponytail, "and I swallowed like thirty-two percent of the river."
"You'll get there, kiddo. It's all about—"
"Practice, yeah yeah." Ellie interjects. "Practice sucks." Joel chuckles, shaking his head.
"It's practice or the pallet."
"I think I'll take practice."