I know, I know. I said I'd upload a few days ago, but I had to write this chapter, something just wasn't working out. So, here it is, filler chapter. Anyway. Don't hate me, I really am posting another chapter, per usual, tomorrow. This is just some stuff where Joel comes around, because before I hadn't really had that? this is rushed, but some of you guys really pressured me into getting this done! Anyway, leave me a review, if you want, just telling me how much you hate it! I don't mind, at all! See ya tomorrow! :)

When Joel was heading back to the house, he saw Ellie scurrying out, a few books in the crook of her arm. He hadn't noticed him, but he felt a small tinge of satisfaction when he saw that. She was going to "school" without him telling her to. He felt like he finally taught her something right.

The front door was locked, so he headed around back. The back porch was covered in fallen leaves, and as Joel stepped on them, the scent of maple flooded his senses. He back door was unlocked, and he headed inside. Jemma wasn't in the living room or kitchen. He checked her room, but she wasn't in there, either.

Joel headed upstairs, and went to Ellie's room first. When he saw that she was sleeping, he thought to leave her. But, he stayed. He watched her shoulders rise and fall as she breathed. Her back was turned to him, and her hair hung off the side of the mattress.

He still felt like he should leave her alone, and his legs twitched as he thought about it, but he stayed in place. Joel took a deep breath, and exhaled. But he was planted, right in the doorway.

"Look," he whispered. His voice was hoarse and gravely. "I'm sorry about last night. I, I overreacted. To say the least."

Joel moved into the room, and leaned his back against the wall. The floorboards creaked under his weight, but she didn't move at all.

"I don't think you understand what Ellie and I have gone through. You're right, she's not my daughter. And... I don't think of her as my daughter. But, I love her like I love my daughter. Loved my daughter.

"I fucked up last time. I let her die, I let her down, I let Claire down, and-and I can't let that happen again...

Joel closed his eyes. Why was he bothering? She couldn't hear him.

"I don't want Ellie to get hurt," he continued, against his better judgement. "I was being overprotective, or something, and I let my feelings get the best of me. She, Ellie, just doesn't know what people will do to her. Hoe easily they'll hurt her.

"I guess I'm not the one who can make that decision, but I want to. I want Ellie to be happy. I thought I could control it. I can't even control my life, hell.

"And, I'm sorry to you. You don't really know us... I guess I better do something about that. And, you were tryin' to help. I'm an asshole. I've just got this temper and..."

She hadn't moved the whole time he was there.

"Jemma?" He walked to the bed, and put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't flinch. Joel pulled her shoulder to the side so that she would face him.

"Can I get a glass of water?" Her voice was shaky. Jemma's cheeks were flushed with fever, and there were dark circles underneath her eyes. Her skin was slick with sweat, and her hair stuck to her forehead and neck.

He got some water from the upstairs bathroom. When he came back to the room, Jemma was sitting up against the headboard.

"Here," and he handed her the glass.

Her hands were shaky, and as she lifted the glass to drink, she spilled most of it down the front of her shirt.

"Fuck," she mumbled, and Joel took the glass from her. "I think... I'm sick." Jemma closed her eyes and sighed.

Joel took a seat at the end of the bed. "Yeah. At least you got Ellie off to school."

"Ha... I told her not to go... guess she didn't want to deal with me."

He shook his head. He could figure as much.

"You want something to eat?" He asked.

"Yeah."

He found some leftover scrambled eggs in the fridge from the morning before. He got himself a piece of bread and butter.

"Did you hear anything I said earlier?" Joel asked as they ate.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothin'."

Jemma laid back down. "Tell me about your daughter."

Joel sighed. "When you're better."

He wanted to tell her, but he couldn't find the words. He knew Jemma could relate to him, in some way. He hadn't told anybody, not even Tess. Hell, Tess didn't know he even had a daughter. He wouldn't even talk about it with Tommy. It was too painful to put into words.

He wondered how Jemma felt. She had to kill her own son, for God's sake. Yet, she seemed relatively calm about it. Joel couldn't help but think that she was keeping it all inside, trying to keep up with appearances. But, the way she acted, he could see the pain in her eyes at moments. Just a small crack in the perfect foundation. Yet, just enough to make the whole thing give. Joel wondered when that was going to happen.

Jemma was staring off into space. She looked like a completely different person, so lost in another world. Her expression had hardened, and the wear of the world marred her facade.

Joel picked up their dishes and headed downstairs. As he rinsed them off, he could see another batch of storm clouds on the horizon. He hoped it wouldn't be as bad as last time.

The living room was a disaster. Joel stacked the papers into their orderly piles, and returned everything to the way Jemma had them the day before. He lit a fire in the stove, and waited for it to settle down. As the wood popped and creaked, Joel cleared his mind and concentrated on his senses. The heat from the stove felt exquisite on his cold hands and feet. The smell of ash was comforting, and he could feel his shoulders loosen and relax.

Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep, sitting in front of the fire.

...

Jemma tried to get out of bed, but the room was swirling around her. She tried to focus on the floor, but she was too dizzy. A wave of nausea swept over her, and she threw up on the comforter.

"Fuck," she groaned.

Jemma balled up the quilt and pushed it into the hall. She leaned against the walls, trying to keep herself standing. She was just so damn cold, and it was all she could think about. Shivers racked her body, and Jemma stumbled into the bathroom.

"No, no, no, no, no," she whispered, and turned on the hot water in the shower. Jemma sat in the shower, clothes still on, trying to soak up the heat. The water pounded on her back and neck, but she still was freezing. Her stomach was killing her, but there wasn't much she could do about it in that godforsaken town.

...

"Joel."

He could hear the sound of dripping on the floor. His head had slumped to his chest, and as he woke, his neck protested.

He turned. Jemma was standing behind him, her clothes dripping wet. She was shivering, and all the color had left her face. "Do you have any aspirin, or something?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get you something. Go dry off."

Joel rummaged through the kitchen drawers, looking for anything that might help her, expired, or not. There were packets of pudding mix, and plastic chip bag clips, but nothing important. The upstairs bathroom was no better. He went through his own belongings, but all he could get was a sip of cough syrup.

"Here," he said, and handed her the bottle. She was laying in her bed, hand over her eyes. Jemma groaned, and threw the bottle to the floor.

"Thanks, anyway," she said, and smiled.

He brought in a chair from the kitchen, and put it next to her bed. "Want to hear a bedtime story?"

"Sure, I have a couple books over there." Jemma pointed toward the window, and Joel saw them sitting on the sill. They were 'When the Wind Blows,' by John Saul, and 'Hannibal,' by Thomas Harris. Not exactly what he had in mind. He chose Hannibal, and sat down.

Joel cleared his throat. "'You would think that such a day would tremble to begin.'"

He read aloud for her, and she stayed awake the whole time. Jemma watched him as he spoke, the way he licked his lips after every few paragraphs. He cocked an eyebrow when he questioned a word, but continued on, knowing his ego could be damaged had he stumbled over it. She wouldn't tell him, though, that she had already finished the book a few nights earlier. As he read it, though, it took on a different light, and she could concentrate on the meaning, and not just the story itself.

Joel became almost completely absorbed by the book. He didn't care much for Clarice, she was kind of a slut, and stupid in her own ways. But, that Hannibal! He was a genius. Joel knew that he was the villain, but he couldn't help but fall in love with the character. Hannibal was charismatic, and was smart enough to know how to use it for his own benefit. Not that he agreed with that, necessarily, but he was the most likable one so far.

"Okay," he said, and closed the book. "If I read anymore, my voice is gonna give."

"I'll read for you." She sat up, slowly. "To return the favor."

"But, you aren't well."

Jemma stood up next to him. "Better than before, but I've got a killer stomachache... Shit."

"What?"

She groaned. "I barfed all over the quilt on her bed. Those eggs you gave me were shit, Joel."

"Not my fault, Ellie made 'em."

She crammed the quilt into the washer, and poured some foul smelling soap on top. The washer squeaked and squealed as it hummed to life, and she went upstairs to Joel's room.

Surprisingly, his room was neat and clean, unlike the rest of the house when she came. His few items of clothing hung in the closet, and his other possessions lined the bottom row of a bookshelf. He told her he had several books, and she was amazed that they weren't picture books.

Granted, she had read them all before, but Joel had some taste. She decided on a book about a boy wizard. Joel only had the first one, but Jemma didn't like the rest of the series as much, anyway.

They both laid on his large bed, Jemma resting against the headboard, and Joel laying on his stomach, eyes closed. As he listening to her sweet voice, he imagined a world parallel to their own. One with magic and wishes, invincibility and flying brooms. He wondered what life would be like now, if he had magic. Joel would free the world of infected, and he would conjure up some succulent beef steak and wine. He mouth began to water, and he imagin-

Jemma wasn't talking anymore. He opened his eyes, and saw that she was still reading, but not aloud. When she caught his eyes, she said "I thought you had fallen asleep."

"No, I don't think I did."

"Keep saying that."

Joel shrugged. "You okay?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, and closed the book.

"You feeling alright?" He touched her cheek with his hand. She was still hot to the touch, but she improved a lot from the morning.

"Yeah, I think I just have some flu or something. Some food, I don't know..."

Joel kept his hand on her cheek. She had beautiful blue eyes, but they weren't all blue. As he looked closer, he noticed a green ring around the pupil. She had dark eyelashes, much darker than her blonde hair. She had a few freckles on her cheeks, and they trailed down her neck. Joel's hand followed them.

"What the hell is this?!" Ellie stood in the doorway of his room.