.

Comfortable-

The Last of Us

Ellie is injured badly and Joel has to take care of her

-Takes place after Ellie kills David, but before they arrive in Salt Lake City—

"Ellie." Joel nudged her with his shoulder. "Hey, Ellie."

She jumped as if startled, turning to Joel. "Huh? What were you saying?"

Joel stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head slowly. He pointed at the snow-capped mountains in the distance. "See those mountains over there? That's where we're goin', right inside 'em."

Ellie's lips twitched into a slight smile. She gave a small nod. "Okay."

"You okay? You seem a little out of it."

Ellie nodded again. "Yeah. Sure."

Joel narrowed his eyes slightly in concern, but didn't press the subject. "Well, c'mon then, we're losin' daylight."

He set off at a slow jog, weaving in between the abandoned cars and careful not to trip on any of the scattered debris. Ellie followed him, more silent, more subdued than ever. What the hell did they do to her? he wondered. After he'd found Ellie in the burning restaurant, thrusting the knife again and again into David's dead body, he hadn't been able to get a word out of her about the strange people in the town. She refused to talk about it, all but denying its occurrence. Joel could only imagine what kind of things they'd put her through, the things she'd seen and done.

"Joel!" Ellie's voice snapped, more clearly than he'd heard her in a month. "Infected!" she hissed, this time much quieter, but with the same panicked urgency.

"Ah, shit," he muttered, ducking behind one of the empty cars. He knelt next to Ellie, pressing his ear to the side of the car.

"How many are there?" Ellie asked, her pistol gripped tightly in her hands.

"Too damn many," Joel replied, searching for a discarded brick or empty bottle. He peered over the hood of the car—it took all of his twenty years of experience and self-control to not scream in terror at the sight. The street was crowded with Infected—Runners, Clickers, and he thought he could hear the distorted moans of a Bloater. They must have all escaped from somewhere—a sewer or old building or something. The Infected half-limped, half-staggered their way around, sometimes bumping into each other like clumsy city-people on the streets.

"Joel?" Ellie's face scrunched up in worry as Joel knelt back down.

"All right, listen to me. There's a lot of 'em out there, so you only use that," he pointed to her gun, "if there's no other option, you hear?" She nodded. "How many rounds you got?"

He waited as she checked. "Six."

Damn. "Okay, that's good. If—" his voice caught. "If it comes down to it, you make every shot count, all right?"

She nodded slowly, suddenly realizing just how serious the situation was. This wasn't like other encounters with Infected—they were out in the open, and the amount of cover they had was less than ideal. Not to mention the sheer number of Infected there were.

"Okay." Joel nodded curtly. He checked the numbers of arrows he had—eight—and breathed a small sigh of relief. At least he had that much going for him.

"C'mon," he whispered, crawling out from behind the car. He dashed over to an overturned sofa (how the hell did that get out here?) and ducked behind it, grabbing a brick that lay nearby. He waited for Ellie to cross over, then threw it as far away from the two of them as he could.

Immediately, the distressed groans of the Runners and crazed noises from the Clickers spiked in volume. Joel waited till he heard them get to a safer distance, then darted again to the next car.

Their game of deadly hide-and-seek continued for at least another half hour, with Joel and Ellie navigating through the street trying to maintain their stealth approach. A few times, Joel had to use his bow, and lost an arrow in the process, but at least they were all right.

They'd almost made it out-the woods were only a couple hundred feet away, and once they reached the cover of the trees, they could make a run for it.

"HEY, FUCKERS!" a psychotic, angered voice screamed.

"Shit!" Joel snapped, grabbing Ellie and lifting her up. "Run!"

The Infected had, of course, noticed the disturbance. The sound of gunshots sliced through the air, echoing down the street and attracting even more attention.

"Shit!" Ellie yelled, ducking behind a trash can. "What sort of dipshit would do that? Where the hell are they coming from?" She tried to peek over the lid of the bin to find the shooter.

"Ellie! Get down!" Joel was firing at a group of about three or four people. They were all wearing black from head to toe-black beanies, sweatshirts, jeans and slacks, sneakers-and seemed to be trying their best to attract the attention of the Infected.

"Move out of the way, Grandpa!" One of them fired a string of bullets at Joel. A few grazed his arm and he hid behind an overturned bus.

"Joel, what are—"

"Ellie, behind you!" He raised his hands, gripping the gun tightly and shooting at a Runner that had appeared behind Ellie. She screamed and shoved its body off, running over to Joel.

"Joel, what the hell?"

He shook his head. "It's one of them suicide groups. They go 'round killing themselves and every other human they can find, some sort of twisted religious group that think this is the rapture and we're all goin' to heaven."

"That's fucked up!"

"Ellie, listen to me. We gotta run, they're—"

"Joel!" Ellie fired twice at something behind Joel's shoulder. The Clicker dropped dead at his feet.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered. "C'mon." His Southern accent was thick now with worry and panic-his words were slurred together and it was difficult to tell what he was saying.

Joel darted out from behind the bus, running in a zigzag pattern to avoid getting hit by the onslaught of bullets and running behind cars and other debris when he could. There wasn't any time to look back-he could only hope Ellie was following him.

"Get off of me, you ass!" Joel heard her yell. Shit, he thought, whirling around with his gun ready to shoot. Ellie had already killed the Runner (how many bullets does she have left?) and was running again.

"Go, Joel, go!"

He didn't need to be told twice. He spun on his heel and headed again for the woods, thinking to himself, Just a little further, just a little further, just a little more and we'll be there... He refused to wonder why Ellie's hand had been pressed to her side, refused to wonder why it had been soaked in blood, refused to focus on anything except making it to the trees.

They stumbled into the woods together, running another couple dozen feet before their adrenaline vanished and exhaustion brought them down. They lay next to each other, panting, minds reeling, wondering if they'd made it.

"We safe?" Ellie choked out. Her voice seemed unusually strained.

"Yeah, think so. You did good back there, Ellie."

No response.

"Ellie?" Despite his exhaustion, he sat bolt upright, looking over at the young girl. The color drained from his face. "Ellie?! What the hell—" All of a sudden he was at her side, pulling her body towards him. "Ellie, hey, can you hear me?"

She nodded, her head barely moving. She was pale and very cold to the touch. Her hand had fallen away from her side, revealing three gunshot wounds along her ribcage.

"Ellie, what-"

Her head fell back.

"No, no, no, no, no, Ellie, stay with me. Stay with me, baby girl, come on..." He pulled her head up, shaking her body gently. "Ellie?"

"Joel—"

"Ellie, I'm going to press hard, okay? It's gonna hurt, but I need to, all right?" He ripped off his sleeve, folding it several times and pressing it to the wounds. Ellie cried out in pain, grasping his shirt. "Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay, baby girl, come on. You're strong, right? You're the strongest damn girl I know." He looked around desperately, trying to find something, anything, that could help.

There was nothing.

Joel looked back at Ellie, and she seemed a little calmer now, a little more composed. "All right, Ellie, I'm gonna pick you up, okay?" Even more color drained from her face—if that was even possible—but she nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Ellie," Joel whispered, taking the girl in his arms and lifting her up. She winced and moaned. "I'm sorry."

Joel started walking.

Stumbling.

Moving forward, the limp weight of his little girl in his arms.

Joel had no idea how long he'd been walking when he found the abandoned cabin. It felt like days, but at the same time, seemed to pass by in less than a second. The sun had been hidden behind the clouds all day—Joel's sense of time was completely fucked.

All he really knew was the relief he felt, the intense euphoria that flooded his entire body when he saw the small building staked out in a clearing. He could see the bodies of whoever had lived there flung unceremoniously against the garden's fence-they'd probably been killed when the cordyceps had first started to spread, considering their state of decay.

It was hardly a pleasant sight, but at least he could keep Ellie safe here.

He laid her in the main bedroom. The mattress was moth-eaten and springy, but it was better than nothing. The girl had fallen unconscious sometime in the hours he'd carried her.

Joel ran his fingers through her sweat-soaked hair. "It's okay, baby girl," he whispered.

Joel searched the cabin for medical supplies, then came back with two first aid kits and some assorted antibiotics from the one bathroom. He peeled his shirt sleeve away from Ellie's injury—the blood had already dried into the fabric—and began to fix her up. This isn't Ellie, he told himself, dabbing hydrogen peroxide on the wounds with a cotton ball. This is some poor fucker who got hit with a gun, this is just a random person, this isn't Ellie.

It seemed like it took hours to pull out the bullets.

Every time Ellie winced in pain, every time she let out an unconscious, involuntary cry, Joel felt like he was being stabbed in the chest. His entire body tensed. He was suffocating—he inhaled and exhaled like normal, but his lungs were tight and his chest was tight and he felt like he was being squeezed.

Finally, three bloody bullets lay on the bedside table. Joel dabbed more hydrogen peroxide around the wounds, then bandaged them as carefully as he could.

He didn't get any sleep that night.

He sat by the bed, watching her until the early hours of the morning. Every few hours, he'd change the bandages on the injuries as gently as he could.

Sometime later, a few minutes before dawn, Ellie woke up.

"Joel!" she rasped. Her voice was hoarse, and it felt like it was grating against his ears.

"I'm right here," he said softly. "You had one hell of an injury back there."

"Yeah, I feel like shit," she muttered. "You got any water?"

He nodded, rolling his eyes at her attitude. Joel handed Ellie the glass of water, feeling relieved. If Ellie was feeling well enough to talk like she was the queen of the world, it probably wouldn't be too bad.

She tried to sit up, then, flinching, lowered herself back down.

"Need help?"

"No bloody shit."

Joel had to chuckle at that. He placed a hand behind her back and helped her sit against the headrest, then handed her the water. "Better?"

"Mmmhmm." She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, putting the glass back on the table. She looked out the window. "Is that the fucking sun?"

Joel glanced outside. "Yes, that is the fucking sun," he confirmed, smiling.

"How long am I gonna have to stay like this?"

"A lil' while."

She didn't answer for a long time; instead, she watched the sun's rays break through the tree branches outside.

"I guess I'm gonna have to get comfortable, then."

She settled back into the mattress, looking at Joel.

"I guess I am too."

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A/N Yes, I know, I'm a horrible updater. Oh well. This has been officially declared no updating schedule since I'm a piece of shit who rarely gets enough inspiration to actually write something worth posting xD

Enjoy this TLoU Ellie & Joel bonding, and thank you all so much for the kind words in your reviews x3