Author's Note: This is a pretty self-explanatory fic and takes place during the time Ellie is helping Joel recover in the house during winter. It's before Ellie meets David and I wanted to explore some of Ellie's character evolution that happens as she has to spend time by herself while Joel is out of commission. The title and line from the summary are from a song of the same name by the group Eisley. It's strange but almost the entire album Currents has songs that remind me of the father-daughter relationship between Joel and Ellie (although my interpretation is just that and the lyrics are a bit more literal about themes like love). Anyway, TLoU belongs to Naughty Dog. Please read and review, if you get the chance. :)
Shelter
Jesus fucking Christ, Joel!
In the beginning it didn't take me too long to get over all the severed limbs and spilled guts and rotten fungal growth we often encountered. Sooner than I thought I even got used to the ear-splitting clicker calls and the disgusting smell of a mushroom-head split in two. Hell, I've become totally fine with shooting or gutting a man. But when I stood over him that day, eyeing the rod jutting through his side, I had the hardest time focusing on the task at hand: getting him off the damn thing. It wasn't the fact that he had been impaled, or even the thought that he could die any minute; no, instead I found myself nauseous as hell at the sheer amount of his blood all over the fucking ground. I was slipping, he was sliding. I grabbed onto him and with all my fourteen-year-old might I somehow managed to help lift him up and off the iron spike. He screamed with pain; I tried not to.
Our escape is a blur to me now, no matter how hard I try to recall it. I wasn't aware that I could block anything out due to adrenaline, being that we're almost always running for our lives from clickers and infected. But stranger things happen, I guess. It took a lot of bullets and a lot of encouragement to get the stubborn mule out of the university. Wouldn't even let me lend a shoulder, but that's Joel. When we'd gotten to the horse I couldn't believe he was still there. Stupid, dumb, brave fucking animal! Callous, the Wonder Horse. I shot the bastard trying to take his reins and he didn't even flinch. Fucking Callous. If only he had arms, then he would have been able to catch Joel falling from his back.
I can hardly even remember how I managed to get Joel up but somehow it was done and, awkwardly slung over Callous' saddle, we rode through the streets of Colorado. Oh yeah, it was snowing. That I know for sure because here, at this place we ended up, everything is covered in snow. Fuck Colorado. Who the hell ever wanted to live in this cold?
I carefully looted a few residences before finding a house for us to settle down in. The garage door was quiet to lift and, like the miracle he is, Callous was even quieter to keep. Somehow I had discovered winter clothes in the forms of a heavy jacket, a few button down shirts, and a pair of heavy socks for Joel. After cleaning his wound for the first time I did my best to re-dress him before exploring the rest of the house. I hadn't been so lucky in finding myself some gear, but what I could use I did. I'd taken all the blankets I could gather (read: about three) and bundled Joel up. For a while I thought he was already dead because he was so, so still and his body was so cold. It actually became a habit of mine to check for a pulse or breath leaving his nose. Always faint but it's there and every time it's a relief.
One and a half days of practicing with Joel's bow and I felt confident enough to venture into the wild for food. What little canned goods I managed to scavenge were sure to run out fast, even with a nearly comatose man and a horse that doesn't complain much. I didn't catch anything that first time out. In reality I didn't see much and I was probably the loudest thing to walk through those woods. Callous witnessed my failure and I'm thankful that he can't talk.
Joel got real bad for a time. Without medicine his injury took to infection and he fell feverish for days. All I could do was keep him as clean and comfortable as possible. Why we hadn't thought to take anything from the university is beyond me. For being survivors, we're pretty careless sometimes. I've got some swabs and bandages and pain killers… but none of it will heal him like that antibiotic stuff. I knew that his fever finally broke when he stopped talking so much in his sleep. But it worried me more because he fell silent again and I had to keep checking on him around the clock. It made wanting to go out difficult although I knew I had to catch something to keep us going. That's where some shitty traps came in handy but I'm a better shot anyhow.
It's been seventeen days since we arrived here. Going on three weeks and it feels more like three months. The days are bright against the snow but the nights are the coldest and longest I've ever felt. While I mutter and curse our luck, Callous stands skinny and humble. I think if I didn't have him, I would have gone batshit by now. Today I'm going to take him out and really look for some food. Even a rabbit will do. Something I can glean some meat from to stop the hunger pains. Regardless, I think I've gotten decent at rationing out our cans. Joel doesn't eat much, obviously, but I have to try. Despite the conditions, I was happy to have stumbled across some jugs of purified water a few houses away. Winter has kept it all cold and without it I think we would have been fucking done for a long time ago.
I'm getting ready to leave now because it's morning and I want to be the first to get to anything that might be out there before something bigger comes along. Callous knows what's up and he stiffens, preparing himself for the ride into the wilderness. My shoes are laced and my coat is zipped; I've got ammo for my crappy rifle and enough arrows for a day's trip. I can't help the nervousness I always feel before going out. I know that I'm alone but it's hard not to feel like someone is watching through the trees.
I give Joel one last check, tightening his wraps and pulling the blankets up to his chin. By the look on his face, I'd say he were already resigned to death, which makes my heart sink. On the other hand, I know he's a fighter and he won't give in that easily. Stubborn as all hell, he can't be defeated by a simple barb through the side. The thought makes me smile a little as I push some of the graying hair from his face. I'm no doctor but I think he'll make it. Still, it's at least once a day that I look at him and think, Oh, Joel. Please tell me what to do.
"Let's go, Callous." My voice hurts. I don't use it too often anymore and the cold makes it stick to my throat. The horse just blinks at me while I slowly, cautiously push the garage door up and open. It's snowing this morning, which is good for covering our tracks. I lead Callous outside, glancing back at Joel one more time before closing the door on the sight of his sleeping form. Whether I make it back with anything or not, at least I have the horse and Joel has me. At the end of the day we've all got something to keep us warm.
