Joel is injured, but he's capable. He's tough as nails and a complete badass, and there was absolutely no way some hunters were going to take him down. There was definitely no way. It just couldn't happen.

Right?

Yeah, he'd be just fine.

. . .

Beyond the doorway was the man in question. He crouched down, slowly making his way through the hall, towards the end where the opposite stairwell was located (STAIRWELL B). His steps were soft and careful, as he had a quickly growing desperation to not be spotted.

When he had been shot, it was unexpected. See, he had left the room early that morning, as the sun was only just beginning to rise. He was making a supply run – That was it. He had gone down two floors, and searched the rooms, finding little. Some tape and scissors here and there, a bottle of alcohol or two. Not much of anything.

It was on his way back that he had heard you calling for him. He began to make his way upstairs again. That's when it all went south.

Upon going up one flight of stairs, to the third floor again, he heard voices. Not thinking, barely used to being out in the wild after the month in the safe haven, he ignored this. Though not a second later it became completely obvious why that was an idiotic move on his part.

He had crouched down and snuck around them. There were only two. He planned to grab you, your things, and haul ass. However, right as he approached STAIRWELL C, he stepped on a shard of broken glass, distracting the hunters from their conversation and onto him.

He had ran as fast as he could, but, alas, he was shot in the lower stomach, parallel to where he had been impaled not a year before. And not soon after, he had pulled you into the tiny room he was hiding in.

But that all felt far away as he crept around once again.

"You see anythin'?" The younger of the two asked, though the other merely shook his head, causing the first to look disappointed.

"Jeez, kid, no need to worry. We'll find 'im," He cackled, "The son'a'bitch won't even see it comin'." They both laughed, and Joel only half-listened as he attempted to get the angle on them, going in between rooms.

He waited in one that conveniently had a one-way mirror. He watched them go by, feeling a brief burst of confidence that they didn't have a clue where he was. Though, the pride faded quickly as he was reminded of the aching pain in his midsection.

Soon enough, they split up. Now he was in business. He watched the first man, probably barely in his twenties pass by, and he made his attack, exiting the room and coming up from behind him.

Joel grabs him from behind, one arm around his neck and the other over his mouth as he pulls him into a supply closet, suffocating him. It reminds him of when this all began, a little over two decades ago, when he used to feel guilty and nauseated after murdering someone like this. Was it bad that it felt normal now? Routine even? He'd been doing it for so long – It was all he really knew.

The very moment Joel cracked open the closet door, he found that the other man had walked right past him. Knowing him to be the only one left, he quickly took care of him.

"Ellie, come on out now," He called down the hallway.

. . .

As you hear Joel calling your name, you slowly stand up from your spot in the corner, opening the door and walking over to where he stood in the middle of the hallway, ignoring the dead guy on the ground.

"Is that it?" You ask, gesturing to the deceased.

"There was one more," He replied, "But we should leave before that changes."

You nod, and the two of you rush back up to the fourth floor, into the mattress room. Once you're there, you both pack your things, and you grow more and more worried as Joel winces and groans in pain.

Finally, despite knowing it was the only one left, you grab the lonely first aid kit from your fraying backpack.

"Here," You say, walking towards him and lifting up the bottom of his flannel shirt from where it was tucked into his jeans, "You need this more than I do right now."

"Ellie," He sighs, "Don't."

"Joel, please," You reply, annoyed.

"It's not a big deal."

"My ass! You got shot, moron," You take out the ace bandages and disinfectant, applying some before wrapping them around and sealing them tightly, "There. Now don't push yourself for a few days."

He looks guilty. Or annoyed. You honestly can't tell. It might be both. Though, he doesn't drag this out. He gives a nod of thanks and you depart from the room. As you take that last step out the doorway, you turn and look at that dusty windowsill, with its dingy, barely white curtains flowing in the breeze. You glance at the bits of ivy and other overgrowth that make their way through. Despite some of these people who lived before it all, who said they missed the world they used to live in, you couldn't help but find it kind of beautiful.

Will you ever be here in this building again?

You were beginning to wonder that everywhere you went, because everywhere you went seemed to became dangerous or overrun or destroyed. It was weird. Traveling, on the road again. You remember being in the QZ and wishing you could leave. And travel and have fun. But this was not at all what you had in mind. This was sad.

"You alright?" It was the first bit of genuine concern and emotion you'd heard out of him since leaving the dam. Yet, you, being so emotional, could only nod in response. Your dirty fingertips brush against the cracked wood of the door for the last time, and you follow Joel down the hallway, down the staircase, down the hallway, down the staircase, until you reach the first floor.

You find yourself thinking about everything that's happened, and you feel stupid. For thinking so much and adding significance to every little thing. You mean, who did that anyway? You were such a freak.

You stop and you think about Marlene. Why did you let Joel off so easy? He killed her, he fucking killed her! Of course he did it to save you, but she was the closest thing you'd ever had to a mother and it was unfair! And Riley, why did she have to die? Why couldn't she be the immune one? She didn't deserve to go. And Tess, the only reason she got bit and died was because of you. Henry and Sam? Them too. It was your fault. Maybe not their deaths, but. . .You should've said something different. You shouldn't of been so stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. . .

"Ellie, c'mon, if we don't leave soon -," Joel stops and takes a closer look at you. He's seen it before a handful of times, but it felt like a sight that no one should see. Simply because you didn't want him to feel pity and sorry for you. You needed to just. . .snap out of it. You were being so STUPID, ". . .Ellie?"

"It's all my fault, J-Joel," You croak out, hating the feeling of hot tears sliding down your face, hating them as they cloud your vision, hating how cold you felt despite how hot it was, hating being hungry, hating feeling responsible for every wrong in the whole goddamn world. Hating being a survivor.

He stares at you, mouth agape, like he's unsure what to say.

And then you do something neither of you expect.

You laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh.

"I'm s-so fucking dumb," And you're just laughing, "I'm just cargo. And not even good cargo. Heavy, useless cargo. I'm junk. You shouldn't be d-dragging me along. You should have left me behind a long time ago, Joel! You should have let me die! But instead, you killed Marlene!"

"Ellie. . . I understand what I did ain't anythin' easy for ya' to handle, but now is not the time to talk abou – "

"Oh, shut up," You say, finding your voice raising, "Do you know what it's like to be tough and brave and courageous and strong? To keep laughing and smiling when everyone I love is dying? I can't do this!"

He wraps his arms around you. And it's no slow coming embrace. He does it quickly, and he stays that way. And you want to tell him to fuck off because you're really pissed at him but at the same time, he's all you have left and he's the most courageous, inspiring man you've ever met, so you just can't do it.

"I'm sorry I lied to you, but I need ya' to know right now that I am not sorry for savin' your life," He says, his tone sounding almost angry, but at the same time comforting, "I cared about ya' too much to let that happen."

You nod, your head against his chest, tears soaking the front of his shirt. You feel pathetic. Small. Needy. Useless, useless, useless.

You can't find words. You can just cry, and that's it. And you wish it hadn't even started. You just want it to be over so you can get out of here and find the next moldy mattress to sleep on, maybe find some more canned food or at least some wild berries, so you can live for another day.

You stand up, wiping your tears. You want to apologize, but you don't because you know you don't need to. You walk in front of Joel, finally making your way out of the dilapidated building you temporarily resided in.

Though the second you step outside, the sun beats down, and you're squinting, blocking with your arm. And not a second after that, you're being pulled back inside, and behind an old desk, Joel beside you.

"What the hell – "

"Did you hear that?" A voice calls from outside.

"I fuckin' saw it. It's exactly who we're lookin' for."

"Old man and little girl?"

"Yeah, man."

Your eyes widen in fear and you reach for your 9ml as you hear the voices get closer. You're too stressed out and emotionally drained to wonder why these people were looking for you or what was going to happen next.

The glass double doors open, and the two men walk in.

"Find these assholes," The first says, "For David."

David?