Author's note: We're getting there, guys.

Santa Barbara is pretty, Clint'll give it that. He doesn't know who let some crazed architect get their hands on every building in the city, but the white plaster walls and red tiled roofs are ubiquitous. It's cool, though, he's never seen this kind of kind of building until they came to California. That and the palm trees. He'd seen old post cards, but once they got near the coast, holy cow, they're everywhere.

California felt like three states. Coming out of Oregon through the highland and snow, they'd come over a hill one day and seen the Central Valley. That might be the farthest he had ever stared in one direction. Ellie felt it too, she just looked back at him and smiled.

People are scary, but the planet is amazing. They camped there that night.

The valley was pretty great, because it was huge, flat, and easy going. They hit a couple cities, when they wanted to, not because they needed to pass between mountains. Story with the infected is the same here as anywhere. They saw a couple caravans. They traded with one, mostly for food. Guy had jerky! Almost as good as Olmwood's.

Ellie had also found a bow in a sporting goods store. She found some intact twine and strung it. She gave it to Clint.

He's still not half as good as her, but she had been determined to teach him. She'd also shown him how to make those demonic ass exploding arrows. Effective, yeah, but freaking dangerous. They'd come up on a bloater a while back. It had roared at them and Clint shot it in the face with one of those arrows. It had left it without a head and most of its shoulders. It was gross. Ellie had been like "Whoa! That was sick!"

Anyway, the valley went on forever, but eventually they got out of it and back into the hills. They were somewhat familiar, but a little different. Lots of pine, tons of green. There are ferns here, they hadn't seen much of that before. Clint decided he liked ferns. This forest was greener, almost, than Colorado and Utah. And real wet. He had to beat the dew off their tent every morning. Then they got to the coast.

Clint had never seen the ocean before. It's basically a big lake, but… somehow, it's totally different. He's seen maps, he knows how big it is. And somehow, standing at the edge, not even seeing one percent of it, you can feel it. The winds are cold, and fierce, blowing in over it. But also incredibly fresh, even rejuvenating. The clouds are huge and voluptuous. The first night they camped within sight of it, he saw maybe the most gorgeous sunset he's ever seen. No wonder people liked to live near it.

He saw the change come over Ellie, though. She would always change modes, when they were getting close to danger, but this was a little different. They haven't talked about it in detail, but Clint knows what went down in Santa Barbara. He had suggested they could go a different way, Santa Barbara wasn't even that close to Catalina. But Ellie was determined for some reason—as usual. She said the L.A. basin was probably ten times worse. She said they could probably find a boat here. And then they'd actually be in the clear.

She warned him about the gang. The Rattlers. They took a hit when they ran up against Ellie, but it doesn't seem like they're down and out. He'd seen more than one symbol, spray painted on a wall. They seemed too fresh.

They didn't run into any, though, not yet. They came down out of the hills and stuck to the shadows, as always. Travelling without a horse sucks, it turns out, but it does make stealth a lot easier.

No farmland, they crept mostly through suburbs. There are some infected roaming around that they took care of, but not much. They hit a couple houses, but honestly they're not hurting for supplies. They spent practically an hour in a comic shop they found. Metro Entertainment, just another busted mom and pop shop that he hadn't taken a second look at, but Ellie lit up like a firework. She ran in, complete lack of caution, and started digging around. Most issues were ruined by weather, but many were intact.

Clint had packed carefully, but one thing he hadn't thought to take on the way out of Jackson was entertainment. Ellie had, though. She had a bunch of these Savage Starlight comics. He had given her shit at the time for making Eddie carry them. She'd let him read them, they're not bad. Title speaks the truth, she's pretty savage. No surprise Ellie's into them.

She did manage to find a couple issues she didn't yet have. She already had a stack she intended to take with her, but when she found those, she freaked. She started squealing and stuff. Shit, it even had Clint nervous, glancing out through the windows. He couldn't hide his smile though. Anything that makes Ellie smile, makes Clint smile.

It's later that day, and they've made their way closer to the coast. They're in a more residential area. It's a grid of similar looking two story apartment buildings, white plaster and red tile, of course. They're nice, though. Not just those little boxy apartments, these are more like suites. The buildings are connected by narrow, cobbled streets. Still no sight of rattlers, but there are plenty of infected in the area.

They're inside one of the buildings now, avoiding some infected they saw. This unit would be really nice, if it weren't for the apocalypse. They're in a living area. There are some couches, and tables. It's a two story unit and the room is open all the way up to the roof. There are stairs on one side leading to the second level. There are floor to ceiling windows, and golden sunshine is streaming through.

Ellie is standing in front of the window with her hands on her hips and her back to him, taking it in like him. They'd both been apprehensive of this city, but so far it's been kind of peachy. Her hair looks brown, but when you catch it in the sunlight, like now, you can see the rosy halo of its auburn color. She acts like a cowboy, but she can't seem to do away with it. She is so goddamn beautiful.

Clint grins. His little secret. His big secret. Ellie really hasn't caught on, he can tell. It's damn hard to hide, sometimes. She can tell he's protective, but she's protective of him too. The danger is good, it's his camouflage. He won't lie to himself, though, he's nervous. He probably won't be able to keep up the act forever. And then what? He has this bad feeling she's gonna be mad. Really, really mad. For what reason? He's not sure, but he's getting to know Ellie.

He can see a sliver of her cheek. God, he'd like to kiss it. But shucks, son. Not everyone is lucky. He'll just have to be thankful he's lucky enough to still be alive. He's got that. And Ellie. At a distance. That's fine.

He smiles.

Then Ellie turns and looks at him, lips moving like she's gonna say something, but she doesn't. Because when her eyes meet his, she knows.

Her features slacken. She turns, disbelieving for a second. She looks him up and down. She takes a half step back. She frowns, and shakes her head. No. No, that can't be.

Clint's limbs suddenly feel cold. This feels distinctly unfair. He didn't say anything. He'd done everything right. It feels like she stole the truth. But Ellie is still looking at him, and he can't pull his eyes away. And he knows. And she knows. And she knows he knows she knows.

"The fuck?" she says eventually.

"Ellie—" he interrupts himself. His gut is twisting and this is all going wrong. He wants to say a hundred things but it's like he can't. This is humiliating, it couldn't be going any worse.

She cocks her head, still frowning. It falls to her again to break the awkward silence.

"Why were you looking at me like Dina used to?" She starts pacing slowly, circling him, watching him. She acts like she's waiting for an answer.

Clint opens his mouth but sound just won't come out. He swallows.

"Because I wasn't looking?" She asks. He can tell the pieces are falling into place in her mind. "And was that the first time, or…?"

She finally breaks eye contact. Her eyes drift into the distance for a few moments. She winces, and then viciously kicks an empty box across the room. She huffs. "Clint, that's not very smart."

"No," he finally chokes out. "No, I guess it's not."

She evaluates him. "Jesus Christ, it's bad, isn't it? You can barely talk. You were hiding this from me?" She shakes her head in disbelief again. "What did you think was gonna happen, Clint? Did you think we were going to—" She looks off into the upper corner of the room, huffing again. She turns around, hands on her hips.

"You're kind of letting me down, Clint."

His heart sinks.

She rubs her nose. She speaks more quietly. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"Ellie, don't say that, okay?" he says. He's finally found his voice. She turns and looks at him, expression neutral. "Don't you fucking say that to me like everything before didn't happen. Like either one of us would be alive without the other. Okay?"

Her expression doesn't change. She looks him up and down again.

"Don't say that, like it's your problem or something. Like I'm letting you down. It will never be your problem. I get it, okay? I get how it's going to be. And I'm fine with that, I'm not like Jesse—"

"Don't you ever say that fucking name to my face. Ever again." Her voice is both quiet and dangerous.

"Just—" He clenches his jaw. "Just admit it. We still need each other."

She doesn't look convinced.

"We're almost fucking there, Ellie!" It comes out louder than he meant.

She scratches her lip and half turns, considering. "Yeah." She turns the rest of the way around. She sighs. "You're right." She turns and looks at him, hands on her hips, disappointed, but conceding. "We're almost there."

And with that, she turns and walks down the hallway, the way they had been going.

Clint hesitates, then follows her. He's uneasy for a while, as they pass through another couple buildings, still avoiding the street. Then he realizes why. That conversation isn't really over. In fact, there's kind of a lot hanging in the air. Mainly because Ellie wasn't very convincing in her acceptance. Shit, he can feel the distance between them all the sudden, when they'd been so close for weeks. She's scarcely looking at him.

He was right. She's straight up pissed. What an asshole.

They get into the next building, then hear the infected. They crouch behind a table as one. He looks at her.

"Do we go around?"

She shakes her head. "Easier to sneak in here." She assesses the room. There are clicks, but Clint doesn't see any stalkers. Sometimes he thinks those are the worst. Clever, sneaky fuckers.

No more words are necessary, she gestures to a hallway. She'll go in there, clear it out. He takes this side, then they meet up on the other end. Clint nods.

His first hit is a runner. Some guy in a purple sports coat with his back to Clint, twitching in front of a bookcase. Standard form. Clint grabs his head firmly with his left hand, covering its eyes, well clear of the mouth, and opens his throat with his right. It's over pretty quick.

A clicker enters his line of vision, ambling along awkwardly. Very slowly, Clint creeps to a couch between them for cover before the clicker can make him out. It seemed to sense motion, though. It starts coming his way.

Damn it. You don't knife a clicker from the front, that's 101. Very quietly, he retrieves his axe. He has a narrow window. It comes around the couch and it's right in front of him. He stands up. It squawks in surprise, but that's the last sound it makes before Clint's axe splits its skull.

He looks around, but that seems like it. He puts his axe back and pulls his knife back out. He walks down a hall toward the rear door of the house. Right as he's about to get to the corner, a female runner he hadn't heard walks around it. They see each other at the same time. She leans back and spreads her arms, uttering an almost comical expression of surprise.

Not thinking, he slugs her hard in the mouth, knife in hand. She half turns, and he turns her the rest of the way and opens her throat before she can scream.

Shit, that was spooky.

The back door is right there, and a dark hallway leading to Ellie's half of the suite. He crouches and waits.

A minute goes by, then two. Clint frowns. The house is quiet. Ellie's stealthy, but human ears can hear another person offing infected. That, and after Teton Ellie quickly demonstrated the ability to signal him when she needs help.

This is taking too long. He's trying to figure out what she might be up to, and thinking about their last conversation, when two and two finally come together.

And you will never, ever see me again.

His blood goes cold. He hears a strange ringing sound, and he stands up. He's breathing fast all the sudden. No, no, no… She wouldn't do that. She knows she can't do that. She knows.

But Ellie's still not there and he can think of no other plausible explanation. He taps the wall. No response. He taps harder, far louder than he should have to.

No response.

He starts thinking about exit routes. There are a ton. He thinks about tracking her, and it's pretty fucking unlikely.

He flexes his arm. No. No, this cannot happen. Bev's face keeps popping up.

He chuckles, insanely, then opens the back door. He already lost too much time, waiting for her in the house. He might have seconds of opportunity left. He pulls out his bow. He can see one runner, in a nearby intersection. He can hear more, throughout the area. He pulls out an explosive arrow. He takes aim, and lets fly at a building a block away. It strikes on the second story and there's an explosion, plaster raining down. Infected start screaming.

He pulls his other explosive arrow and looks the opposite way. He needs good coverage. He arcs it to a building two blocks away. It hits the corner of the roof, to the same result.

Like a madman he stands there, waiting for them to come. At first it's not clear he was successful. Then the screams start to get loud, and multitudinous.

When he sees a gang of runners charging through the nearby intersection, and one sees him, he finally goes back inside and latches the door.

He's breathing too fast. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a couple deep breaths. The runner that spotted him starts banging on the door. There are sounds of agitated infected inside the house.

He pulls out his nine mil with one of those silencers Ellie had shown him how to make. He turns the corner, and he's on the other end of the dark hallway that Ellie had gone down. There are no windows, but there are stairs upward. He creeps over and peers up them. He can see the silhouette of a runner at the top of the stairs. He moves to the landing and takes aim. The runner grunts in surprise, then gets a bullet in the brain.

When Clint is near the top he sees a clicker coming his way. It passes the staircase and continues down the hallway. He follows it, grabs it around the forehead and opens its throat.

It's quiet for now. He turns around, towards light. Around the corner of the hallway there is an outside wall lined with windows. One of them is open. He approaches it and looks out. There is no balcony. There are tons of infected on the street. No real way out this way. He frowns. Then he sees it. There is a large plank connecting the roof of this building with the next. But how do you get on the roof?

He searches the floor briefly but finds nothing. He looks out the window again. The lip of the roof is close, within reach.

Shit, seriously?

He plants his boot on the window sill, reaches up and grabs the edge of the roof. The terracotta tile is snug. He grabs it. Pushing down thoughts of the insanity of this, he grabs it with his other hand. His boots are on the sill, but he is now basically hanging twenty feet above a street. A fall is certain death, either to gravity or the infected. He takes a deep breath, and lifts his boots off the sill.

The tiles bear him. He pulls himself upward. He manages to get a forearm up there, then another, then his shoulders. The roof is dusty. He's being very careful not to slip. Finally he's able to scramble up. He finds himself panting. The plank is ten feet away. He walks over and lifts it up. There are scuffs in the dust underneath it. This was laid recently.

Again not looking down, he walks carefully across it, holding out his arms for balance. On the new roof he sees a skylight that has been swiveled open. He looks down. The room underneath is dark and empty. He drops in, landing on the bed. He opens the door quietly. The hallway is low lit by more windows. He sees a dead runner. The blood is fresh. He walks past it and turns a couple corners. There's another long hallway lined with windows. One of them is open. He can hear infected around the next corner.

Outside of this window, there's a fire escape. There's another one on the building across the way, as well as a broken window. He climbs out.

Now, the streets are narrow, but it's probably still a good eight feet to the other fire escape. He glances down. There are probably twenty infected on the street below him, and more in sight. They aren't screaming anymore, having been disappointed by local game. They're still on alert, though.

Fuck it.

He plants a boot on the railing, leans until his center of gravity is over empty air, then pushes off as hard as he can.

His chest hits the railing and it almost takes the wind out of him. His feet are kicking in the air. He's hanging by his armpits. The infected below have noticed him. They start making a lot of noise. He gets his hands on the railing and hauls himself over. He lays on his back for a few seconds.

God, I hope Ellie didn't get too far.

He gets up and climbs in through the broken window. It leads into a bathroom. He opens the door to another hallway. He looks right and sees a decently lit kitchen. There's a dead runner in the corner. He walks that way. When he emerges from the hallway into the kitchen area, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Something hard impacts the side of his head. "Agh!" he shouts. He stumbles into the counter.

He pulls out his gun but when he looks, it's Ellie. Her teeth are bared. She advances on him. He points his gun away and holds up his other hand. "Ellie, wait—"

She slugs him in the jaw. He falls and ends up on the ground, leaning up against the counter. His head is throbbing and he's dazed from the punch. Ellie moves in on him again.

"Ellie don't!" He holds up his hands in defense.

She clenches her fist and rears it, but she doesn't throw the punch. She almost does, a couple times. She turns around, pulls out her gun, and shoots the dead runner five times, gunshots shocking the air like shattered glass. She's breathings fast through her nose.

"Ellie, please just listen."

"What were you fucking thinking?" Her gun is still in her hand, but she's relatively calm now.

"I had to stop you," he says, dazed and sheepish. "I had to do whatever it takes."

"Not that!" she shouts, looking at him.

Clint takes a few breaths, then his brow furrows. He's starting to feel the anger now.

"Oh, that." He scoots up a little, getting a better position against the cabinet. "What was I thinking? What was I thinking, Ellie? Shit, I guess I wasn't thinking. I was feeling. Is that a crime?"

Her eye twitches. "It depends…" She holsters her gun. "Clint, you knew it could never happen between us."

"Yeah, I did."

"Then why…" she gestures. She doesn't want to say it.

"Why? I don't know…" He scoffs. God, she's being impossible. "God, I don't know, Ellie. Why did you love Eddie? Why do you care about Dina, and JJ, and Maria? Why do you care about Jackson? Why are you determined to find a cure?"

She looks at him, unresponsive.

"Because," says Clint. "Fucking because, that's why."

Her eyes are distant. She looks disoriented. She turns toward the dead runner with a thousand yard stare.

God damn it, Ellie. Why are you like this? Is it that bad? Is it that hard for you?

Clint flexes his arm. "And you know what? I don't regret anything. And fuck you for trying to leave me. Fuck anyone for doing that to someone. And you, you know—"

"Shut up," she says. She's not looking at him.

"And you know what else, Ellie?" He stands up, pulling himself up by the counter. His head is still throbbing. "It's not up to you."

She looks at him. She's got a distant look, like she's only half there.

"It's not your choice, it's mine. I get it. I told you and you don't believe me, but I do. I get how it's going to be. It doesn't matter. I don't need anything else. I'm happy. I'm happy just like this. I'm…" He struggles with it for a second. "Fucking happy right god damn now. I don't care if the cure is in Catalina, or Florida or god damned Japan. I'll follow you there. Listening. Loyal. Every step of the way. And I'll be glad for it."

There are tremors in the small muscles of her face. Her eyes are glistening.

He knows he's on thin ice, but he goes for it because she needs to hear it.

"Ellie, you don't decide who gets to love you."

For an instant, he can see the fear. Then she grimaces, stomps over to him, and unloads a long and terrible scream into his face.

He can't look into her eyes. He turns, wincing as it happens to him. Eventually, she runs out of breath and walks into the living room with her back to him. She's trembling. She wipes a tear from her eye.

There's an icy pain inside Clint, and his skin is singing. His head throbs. That was not fun. He takes a few deep breaths. Ellie's standing there, crying quietly now, facing the other way. Sunlight pours through a window on the other side of the living room. A bright red cardinal flies by.

"Ellie," he says. She doesn't respond. He walks over. "Ellie…" He puts his hand on her shoulder. He can see her tense up a little.

"Ellie, I'm not sure what you're feeling… Whatever it is, I know you're acting like this because it's hard for you. When we left Jackson, you basically treated me like a soldier. That was easy. Familiar. That was okay. But I'm not just a soldier at the end of the day, and neither are you. People can be soldiers, but they're also more than that. Everyone is more than that. We needed each other out here, and we found each other. You're my friend, Ellie. You gonna tell me that's not true?"

She's quiet now. Her shoulders are slack.

"Ellie, I want you to know that you're not responsible for me. Okay? I mean, you kind of are, we have each other's back. But every step I've taken since Jackson I've taken with my own two feet. I didn't agree to come with you because I thought I owed it to you. If you told me to do something that would get me killed, I wouldn't listen. And if anything does happen to me, it'll be because I chose to take the risk."

She finally turns around. She doesn't bother wiping her tears away. She's giving him this look. God, those eyes sometimes… She's giving him this look like why should I believe that?

He gives a little sigh. Is there something he can say? Is there some combination of words that will make her get it? He looks out the window for a second. Another cardinal flies into view, landing on the balcony rail. It looks at him.

"Ellie, don't try to take my choice from me."

She shakes her head like she can make all this go away. "Isn't it better if we're just soldiers?" she asks.

"No," says Clint. He looks about, adjusting his glasses. "No, Ellie, and I know from experience."

He doesn't hold back then. He lets her see how he feels about her. She acts like she doesn't like it. She screws up her lips. She hits him on the chest, but it's weak.

He reaches down and pulls Ellie into a hug. She starts crying and hugs him back. "You're so stupid… you're so stupid…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Tell me all about it."

He can feel her wet tears on his chest.

"But you know," he continues, "we kind of all are."

He can feel her fingernails near his spine. "I'm really sorry…" she whispers.

His brow furrows. "For what, exactly? Pistol whipping me or screaming in my face?"

"Both." He's never heard her sound so small.

"Yeah… That wasn't fun. But it doesn't matter. Shit, I don't even care, Ellie. You know what matters? You matter. We're still alive. That's what matters."

She's stopped crying. She pulls away.

"You and the cure," he finishes.

She nods. She looks at the mess she's made on his shirt. She wipes the snot from her nose and rubs it on his chest.

"Eugh! Fuck you dude!"

She actually laughs. Then she gets serious again. Not angry. Solemn.

"It's really okay?" she asks him. "If it just stays like this?"

He takes a little comfort that she still doesn't know, not really. What her face does to him. Her green eyes are so perfect, every time. She has a bruise and her cheek and a smudge on her forehead, and she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

He thinks about how to respond. He decides on sober. She needs to believe him.

"It's totally okay," he replies.

"I know I remind you of—" she starts. She looks like she regrets saying anything.

Suddenly he can see her. They had had an easy day and the fire is going. They're about to make dinner. Bev is just sitting on a log, then she meets his eyes. Nothing needs to be said. She just smiles, and he smiles back.

"Yeah," he says.

She sniffs. Her face twitches again, around her eyes. She reaches up slowly and grips the straps of his pack over his chest. "If this is really how it's going to be…" she starts. Her fists clench and she shakes him, slow, firm. There's new anger on her face. "And you fucking die protecting me…" She shakes him again. Her teeth are showing. "I'll fucking kill you."

Clint doesn't know what to say for a second. It didn't make any sense but she's deadly serious. She actually expects a reply.

"Okay," he says, diplomatically. He knows he needs to mean it, so he does. "Okay."

She lets go and turns around. It's finally over. He lets out air, a lot of it. The cardinal is still on the balcony rail, watching them. It flaps its wings and takes flight. A runner screams somewhere in the distance. Ellie puts her hands on her hips, half turning.

"And how the fuck are we getting out of this mess you made?"

"Oh," he says, playing along, "like you'd let a few infected stop you."