A/N: So, I've been working on this for a while on and off (since maybe a week after The Last Of Us first came out). It's pretty much the story from Joel's POV, except I dove deeper into a lot of things that were only hinted at, like his life with Sarah before the outbreak and the time he spent as a hunter. I used the basic plot and some dialogue from the game, but otherwise everything else is mine. I worked my ass off to finish this, so I sincerely hope you enjoy it!

This is the first of three parts - the second part is finished and the third is nearly done! So expect those parts within a few days of each other :)

Warnings: Bad language, because, well, Ellie. (And hunters! Woooo!)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Last Of Us, nor do I make a profit from this work.

no place for a hero in this world
no place for someone like me
i can't shoulder the burden of a hero
when i still hold on to what used to be

Joel wasn't a hero.

He knew that. He understood that, and he accepted that. He wasn't anything like the brave, masked figures in the stories his mother used to read with him when he was a kid. Not even close. He wasn't selfless, righteous, or brilliant in every way. He wasn't flawless with the morals of a saint. He wasn't. He was just a man. A survivor.

So no, Joel wasn't a hero. Hell, he wasn't even that good of a man. There had come a time in his life where he hadn't hesitated to kill those who stood in his way or felt any remorse taking from others less fortunate than him. There was no room for pity or compassion in the apocalyptic world he lived in, because they'd all just do the same to him if given the chance. He'd learned that the hard way.

But even though he could count all his good qualities on one hand, that didn't mean he was a lost cause. Because when everything was different, he was different too.

From what felt like another lifetime ago, before he'd become a cold, emotionally detached man through twenty years of loss and pain, Joel was just another everyday joe working hard to keep a roof over his head. He had a somewhat stable job and a mortgage to pay. He had a few buddies he'd go to the bar with every now and then to enjoy a cold one. He had his little brother Tommy to remember their parents with, and to reminisce about all the good times on their family's old ranch back in Texas that they both missed so much.

He had a daughter.

Sarah. She was his world. He went to her soccer games whenever he could, and was always the loudest parent cheering. He stayed up with her when she wouldn't admit she was afraid of the dark, and they'd make popcorn with salt and just a little butter and watch movies until she finally fell asleep. When she was upset he told her all the lame jokes he could think of that she swore up and down between giggles weren't funny at all. He made her breakfast before school – but no bacon, because he never knew when she was going through another vegetarian phase – and thanked his lucky stars every meal that she genuinely liked fruits and vegetables. He never forgot to tell her how much he loved her every night as he put her to bed, and after every bad dream she had he said that everything would be alright as long as they had each other. She was comforted, and he was too. They were happy.

And then everything changed.

His world, and the world he lived in, ended.

Even so many years later, Joel could remember it in agonizing clarity and the pain still felt like it was only days old despite the decades that separated them. For so long he wanted to come to terms with what happened, to finally accept it and maybe be able to move on. He used to want to forget, but now, he doesn't think he could forget even if he tried.

He can't forget the screams and cries for help and the crazed, bloodthirsty screeches from the... the things that used to be his neighbours, his friends.

He can't forget the feeling of the cracked pavement beneath his boots as they ran for their lives, and how the small hand he held tightly within his own gripped back just as fiercely.

He can't forget seeing that soldier, and the overwhelming wave of relief he felt that they were finally safe. But he can't ever forget hearing the soldier's words that just didn't make sense, because they weren't infected goddamnit, and Sarah's leg was broken so why weren't they helping them?

And then, he can't forget putting two and two together, and coming up with the end. He can't ever forget the sound of the gunshots, and trying desperately to shield Sarah's body with his own before–

"Oh, no..."

He can't ever forget holding his baby girl close as he watched her beautiful blue eyes fade to grey, and it was such a contrast to all the red that seemed to be everywhere that he could only stare and clutch her limp form to his chest, feeling helpless and empty in every sense of the word. He'd closed his eyes as tears slipped down his face and he rocked Sarah gently, choking in blind disbelief.

And as his world had slowly crumbled around him, he'd known then that this wasn't something he could reconcile with in a few years' time. There are some wounds that time just can't heal, and losing her wasn't something he'd ever forgive himself for. It had been his job to save his sweet baby girl, and he'd failed not only as a father, but as a human being. As her hero.

Joel had pressed his face into his daughter's cold neck and felt a piece of himself die too.

"Come on, baby, please."

He won't ever forget. He can't ever forget.

"Don't do this to me, baby girl."

His heartbeat had matched the ticking of his watch. Tick-tick. Tick-tick.

"...Sarah?"

Tick.

It was only a short while after he lost Sarah that Joel first realized he was not a hero. Not for his daughter, who counted on him above all else, and not for anybody that day or any day since. Because heroes didn't fail – they always managed to save the one thing that meant more to them than the world itself, because they were their world and if they were to lose them it would mean the end of both their lives. Knowing that was supposed to make him be that much smarter, that much faster and stronger and maybe just that much closer to being the hero she'd needed him to be. But he'd still failed anyway, because he wasn't good enough and wasn't a hero. The revelation that he was just a man – a flawed man – was painfully clear.

Maybe he could never be a hero, because even though he tried his damn hardest and gave it everything he had, he couldn't win if he was destined to lose when it mattered most. Mankind was supposed to fail so that they could learn from their mistakes, and Joel learned that his mistake was his humanity. It was a cruel reminder that he had failed to protect what he cherished above all else from harm, and it was the harsh reality he was forced to suffer through for twenty very long, terrible years.

And for most of those years, Joel was a hunter. Not the kind who killed animals for food (though they did that too whenever they could – they'd learned to eat whatever they could get). He was the bad kind of hunter, the kind that killed and scavenged and did whatever they had to do to live another day. He did a whole lot of things he wasn't proud of, and a whole lot more that gave him endless nightmares night after night. He got through that time by drinking away the guilt of killing innocent people for their measly few belongings. Whenever he could, he drowned himself in any booze he could find. After all, alcohol is the cheapest kind of therapy, and it worked just as well – he found he couldn't remember the terrified look on their victim's faces if he was looking into the bottom of a bottle.

Do whatever it takes to survive, right?

But then Tommy wanted to leave to join with the Fireflies. Joel thought he was naïve to believe so wholeheartedly in a cause that sounded too good to be true, but Tommy said he wanted to help people instead of killing them. Which Joel agreed with, he really did, but what chance did this Firefly rebel group have against the massive gangs of hunters all across the world? Joel thought if you wanted to live, you had to be on the side that was winning.

Tommy disagreed, so he left, and Joel was on his own. His baby brother didn't even look back as he walked away from everything Joel had done and sacrificed to keep them alive. He didn't even say goodbye. But Tommy did tell him that he didn't ever want to see his goddamn face again, so at least he'd said something.

Joel's rapidly dwindling supply of alcohol was there for him after that. He had only a little left to numb the feeling of betrayal and abandonment by the last of his family, but he made every drop count – just like he made every bullet count on the infected that ruined his life and took away his world.

It took years, but gradually he began to feel less remorse for viciously killing the infected or any unfortunate tourists that crossed his path. It was the lowest he ever sunk, and he hated himself for still living the way he was even though he knew how horribly wrong it was. He tried not to think of Sarah when he did the things that would surely haunt him forever, and he tried not to think of how ashamed she'd be of him if she could see what he'd become.

Joel tried to be better. He really did. He'd use Sarah's memory as an anchor to keep from submerging himself completely in the life of a hunter, but sometimes even she wasn't enough to keep him afloat. In his worst moments, he'd completely forget her as he killed or as he stole. And whenever he'd resurface from whatever deep abyss of diseased actions he'd sunk into, he'd desperately grasp to remember again and he'd beg her to understand that he had to do it, that he needed to because he had no other choice. He was doing what he could to survive so he could live for her, because it was his fault she wasn't living at all. He could hear in the back of his mind what she'd say after he did it too, saying things like: daddy, what did that man ever do to you? he was probably looking for food or a house somewhere. why did you have to hurt him? he just wanted to live too! He tried not to hear it, but no matter how loudly his ears rang from their screaming, their crying and their begging, he could still hear her soft voice quietly asking him why they had to die.

Sometimes there were days when his resolve to live crumbled and he really thought about ending it. All of it. No more guilt and longing for the past, no more hurting people and no more running from the truth of what he was doing and what he was. Joel was never a man to give up easily, especially after everything he'd done to survive to this point, but there was only so much a person could take before life becomes just too heavy a burden to bear. But whenever he saw a blade or a rope or anything he could use to get the relief he craved, Sarah's face would immediately come to mind. Except this time her image wouldn't leave him, not like it would when he lost himself in his new life, and the mere thought of her made him ashamed that he was even contemplating suicide. He quickly realized he could never really do it, because how could he choose to kill himself when she never had a choice? Who was he to throw away life when his daughter would never live again?

He'd make it through and live for her even though it hurt so much. He just hoped she would be okay with how he was living, being a hunter and all, but he knew he was fooling himself. She'd never be okay with hurting innocent people. But he couldn't find it in him to change – to be something better – even for her. He couldn't try be a good person after everything he'd done. He felt too far gone, and it was tearing him apart that he couldn't be better for Sarah because he didn't deserve to be. So if he ever found alcohol amongst the rubble of a once thriving city left to rot, he gave himself a few hours of thoughtless bliss, a dreamless night and a hangover the next morning he always knew he deserved.

He lived that way for a long time, because he thought there was no other way to live. He ran out of the heavenly liquid that was his escape after a few years – Sarah's face coming to him often in varying degrees of clarity – and gradually less tourists came into town. Their supplies dropped to dangerous lows, and the hunters became more and more desperate.

But then he saw something he hadn't seen in years, something that seemed so terribly insignificant to any other but ended up completely changing his life.

Mercy.

[FLASHBACK - fourteen years after the outbreak]

Joel was on his nightly patrol when he spotted one of the newer, younger hunters come across a woman and a small child bundled up behind a dumpster in one of the many alley ways. Joel watched silently, hidden well within the shadows despite his bulk, as the hunter ransacked the woman for her coat and her shoes and whatever food she had on her just like he'd been taught to do. But then a single choked sob erupted from the child, and the hunter froze.

The hunter – whose name was David, Joel suddenly remembered – turned to look at the child with a puzzled look on his face, like he couldn't remember what he was doing or why he was doing it. Joel could relate.

David flinched heavily when the child's sobs became screeching wails. The woman quickly tried to comfort the child in her arms. "Hush, bébé," she murmured quietly. "Vous devez être silencieux!"

At this point, Joel expected David to pull out his gun and shoot them so that the noise wouldn't draw over any other hunters to steal the food and clothes he got from the woman. That's what he would have done, at least. But to Joel's surprise, David stepped forward with his arms extended. The woman shrank back and tried to shield the child from the hunter with her body, but David just grabbed the woman's shoulders to keep her still. Then he just... looked at her.

They held eye contact for what must have been no more than a minute, but to Joel it felt like so much longer. He guessed David was making an important decision, judging by the kid's conflicting facial expressions. While the woman's face was full of fear, the young hunter's face was consumed by an emotion Joel guessed was something like indecision, and then acceptance. His eyes seemed sad.

David suddenly let go and hastily bent to pick up the woman's jacket, her shoes and the bit of food he'd taken from her. He thrust them into her arms and spun her from the alley way and towards the direction of the road. Joel could hear the voices of a few hunters nearby, probably coming to check out the child's screaming cries, and apparently David did too because he started pushing her roughly out of the alley.

"You have to run," the young hunter said, his voice laced with the barest hint of growing hysteria. "You have to get out of here. They'll kill you if they find you. Do you understand? You have to leave!" He pushed her out into the street and whipped his head in the direction of the approaching hunters. They weren't in sight yet, but by the sounds of it, they would be soon. "Go all the way down this road. When you get to a big green gate, take a right. Then your second left. At the back of the alley, there's a hole in the fence. Go through it and head towards the metal tower on the horizon. You'll come across a forest. Follow the first stream that's over three feet wide and it'll lead you far away from here. They never patrol that far. You'll be safe. Now go, damn it! Before it's too late!"

He gave her a final push in the opposite direction of where the other hunters were coming. But the woman didn't run – she seemed confused, probably because the man who had just mugged her was now giving her back her stuff and shoving her away from what she must've assumed was his back-up. Joel knew it was because she didn't appear to speak English and didn't understand that she was being let go, but the young hunter was too caught up in the moment to realize that.

David grew increasingly panicked when he realized she wasn't going anywhere. "What the hell is wrong with you, lady? Go already! Fucking run!" In a last ditch effort, he pulled out his gun and shot at her feet. The woman thankfully understood the hint and took off down road, cradling the still crying child tightly to her chest.

She ran maybe twenty feet before the sound of a rifle cracked the air, and she fell to the ground. The child flew from her arms and landed beside her, and its cries became hysteric and high pitched before there was another gun shot and the crying stopped instantly.

"Hey, kid! Dumbass!"

Up until that point, David had been staring where the woman and the child had fallen, the arm holding his gun slack and unmoving. But the deep, rough voice startled him and he jerked around to see four hunters advancing towards him, all with their guns drawn. One held a hunting rifle; the barrel was still smoking.

Another one of the hunters stepped forward and with a sickening jolt in his gut, Joel realized it was the leader of their faction, Bones. Joel hadn't been intimidated by a lot of people in his fourty odd years, but he knew right away not to mess with this guy. He hoped David knew to play his cards just right so he wouldn't have to learn that the hard way.

"What the fuck was that, kid? You were gonna let her go, huh?" Bones demanded, an angry snarl twisting his face.

David blanched. "N-No! What? Hell no! The bitch got away from me! I was just about to shoot her, I fuckin' swear, man."

"Bullshit. You think I'm a fuckin' idiot? Huh? Do ya, kid?"

"No way, Bones! I'm not lying, man! Honest! You heard my gun, right? I was tryna get her. I just missed, okay? You gotta believe me!" David begged desperately.

At this point, Joel had a good idea of what was coming next. Bones was pissed, and David didn't deserve what he was about to get. Joel wished he could do something, but he'd only be dooming them both if he tried to intervene. He yearned to leave so he wouldn't have yet another memory to try fruitlessly to forget, but he owed it to the kid to stay. David deserved for someone to see the brave and selfless thing he had done, and Joel would honour him by seeing it through 'till the bitter end.

"Come on Bones, I'm telling the truth, man! I swear to God!" David continued.

Bones glared at him, and the sheer unadulterated malice behind it made even Joel uncomfortable. David cowered where he stood. His hands shook violently, but somehow he still held on to his gun as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

"God ain't got no fucking place here, punk."

Bones lifted his gun and fired. David fell to the ground, a bullet between his eyes. The other hunters cheered, and Bones made a show of blowing on the barrel of his pistol like he was in some sort of movie. Joel felt sick. These were the kind of guys he was surrounded by, and the kind of guy that he was?

They hung around for a while longer, still snickering and calling David stupid, calling him weak. They kicked dirt at him, spat on his body, and took his gun. And when they finally left, Joel turned into the alley way and was violently sick. Their hyenic laughter still rang in his ears even after they were out of sight. He sat alone in the shadows for a long time after that.

Joel was man enough to admit that after David was killed for doing something so absolutely human that night, he cried for the first time since Sarah died. David couldn't have been older than his mid-twenties, but he showed more heart than Joel had in almost fifteen years since the infection began. Joel didn't want to think about that too much.

Except he couldn't stop thinking about it. He saw compassion break through the grisly part of human nature that he'd become so accustomed to and it jarred him in ways that he couldn't even begin to explain. He didn't want to know how far from human he had fallen and how low he'd stooped into the animalistic, beastly side of himself that a single act of kindness could shake him to his very core. How heartless was he that he would have shot the woman and the child without a second thought if it meant keeping their belongings away from other hunters? He allowed himself to consider what his baby girl would say if she could see him now – would she see her father who was only doing the best he could, or just another one of these monsters?

Thinking of Sarah right then really showed him how different he was from who he was before the crisis. He was angry at himself for letting this go on for so long, and he knew she would have been too.

He absently stroked his watch. It had stopped ticking years ago, and the glass cracked long before that, but he just couldn't take it off. It was a piece of him, and more importantly, a piece of Sarah, so he couldn't throw it away like it was trash when it was the most treasured thing he owned. It was all he had left of her, and he'd be damned if he lost that too.

Looking at the watch she'd given him all those years ago brought up memories of the way things used to be and the way he used to be. He may not be a hero, then, now or maybe ever, but at least he'd been kinder, caring and friendly. He'd been human.

He thinks that Sarah would have liked David, because the kid reminded him that despite the horrible things they had to do to survive, they were still human beings below the scars and the grime and the guilt they carried with them every day. Sarah always had a way of bringing out the best in him, and David showed him how far he had fallen from that. Now he finally began to see what Tommy had all along – that there was still hope for them, for human kind. And after seeing what David had done, Joel tentatively began to think he was right. But it had to start with one person, and that person had been David. He was a hero in his own way. But in the end, he failed, because there was still no place for a hero in this world. Not yet, at least. It would only get you killed.

But what really mattered most to Joel was that David had looked past his maybe not so great qualities and tried to be a better person than what was expected of him. David was no saint, Joel knew that too well, and yet he still tried to make the right decision instead of falling into old patterns. And maybe the kid's death shocked Joel so much even after seeing so much death – and dealing out his fair share of it too – was that there was something so incredibly raw about the villain trying to be the hero for once.

Villain. Reality never smacked Joel in the face harder than it did then. Not only was he not a hero, he was the bad guy. He'd become so accustomed to his role as a villain that he didn't even realize that he was a villain, because he'd convinced himself that he was doing his best when really he was just too afraid to do what was right.

But David had done what Joel was too weak to do – be a good man, even after everything that had happened. That was something Joel promptly decided he could learn to do, and it took a kid nearly half his age for him to realize he was a hunter just like Bones and that he didn't want to be anymore.

Even though Joel would never know why David did what he did, he still thanked him for it all the same. David gave him hope that he didn't have to live everyday feeling like he was slowly drowning in his shame and guilt. Joel could become human again and live the better life he'd wanted for so long, and he'd do it for himself and he'd do it for the kid who never could.

"Thanks, kid... David."

[END FLASHBACK]

Please review!