Here we go! Joel's first POV chapter! I think that a lot of fanfic writers don't necessarily do Joel's character justice. That's not to say that they're bad writers, it's just that Joel is fucking hard to write. Because this is a video game and not a book, we as writers can't just borrow the creator's style. We've got to analyze the character, see what makes them tick. And Joel is extremely difficult because he only really shows his true colors and expresses himself at the most heart-wrenching parts of The Last of Us. Ellie's an open book and OCs are completely conceptualized, but Joel has battened down the hatches, so to speak. So, with those minimal glimpses into his character, I tried to stay true to him without making it up as I went along.

So here's chapter 5!

Chapter 5: Lost

(Four days after the fall of Jackson, Late Summer, Pacific Northwest)

"Joel, watch out!"

Joel spun just in time for the board to connect with his nose. The blow sent him sprawling, landing hard on asphalt and concrete. Someone pounced on him. His attacker was dressed in military gear, holding a broken board, its end pointed from the fracture. He looked meaner than a rabid dog.

"You motherfucker!" he roared, stabbing down.

Joel caught his wrist with one hand and seized his throat with the other. Fingers fastened around his own neck and squeezed. Joel'd been choked before. The trick to getting out was not to panic. He let go of the man's throat and instead grappled for his face, pushing his head back. The man's head began to turn, but his grip tightened on Joel's neck. Joel reared his hand back and slammed his fist just under the man's nostrils. He reared back and fell off. Joel scrambled up and pulled out a shiv. He grabbed the man by the shirt and shoved the crude blade into the man's neck. He gurgled as blood spurt from his wound. Joel pulled on the shiv, but it snapped, leaving jagged metal poking out of the man's neck as he fell onto his back, twitching.

Joel looked up to see Tommy grappling with another combatant. He yanked his pistol from his pants and took aim at the attacker, but they were shifting positions as they fought over Tommy's rifle. The rifle was slowly turning toward Tommy. Joel rushed the man and lunged, tackling him and knocking him to the ground. He scrambled to wrap an arm around the man's throat. The man struggled for air, thrashing and kicking. Joel was nearly finished with the man, his fighting becoming weak, when someone roared at Joel.

"Get off him, you prick!"

A man with a machete rushed at him. Joel couldn't defend himself and his attacker was too close.

A rifle cracked, the shot echoing in the woods around. The man's chest exploded in fine spray of red, followed by a steady stream as if someone had poked a hole in a water balloon. His machete clattered when it fell from his hand and landed on the pavement. He stood for a moment before falling. Maria stood behind him a good distance away, the barrel of her rifle smoking.

"Maria!" Tommy rushed past Joel as he ran to meet his wife. Some good news, finally. Joel finished off the man he was strangling and cleared himself from the body, bending down and placing his hands on his knees for a breather.

That was too damn close.

Time for an injury assesment. His raspy breathing caught his attention. That and the chest pain. His chest hurt with every breath. He didn't remember getting hit in the ribs, but when he lifted his shirt to check, sure enough he was already beginning to bruise. He checked each rib individually. The ones that had taken the blow hurt to touch, but no fractures. Ice on it and he'd be fine. His back hurt a little, but there was no intense burning in his spine or tingling in his limbs. He was fine on that account. He felt his nose. Crooked. Again. Blood leaked from his nostrils and the bridge of his nose into his mouth. He tasted the iron. He spat, grabbed the end of his nose, and twisted. It went back into position with a pop that shot pain up his sinuses and made his eyes water. He stood up and wiped the reactionary tears from his eyes and blood from his face.

"You okay, Joel?" Tommy called over to him.

In terms of injury, Joel was no worse for wear than he ever was. Give him a couple of days and some sound treatment and he would be fine. He hurt all over right now, and some of it would linger for longer than it should, but that is the price one pays for age. Something, somewhere, hurts when one gets older. It's a fact of life, one he learned to deal with. Physically, he was not just okay. He was great.

But he was most definitely not okay. He set his jaw grimly, "I'm fine."

"Thank God I found you two," Maria said breathlessly, "You're the first friendly faces I've seen in three days."

She strode over to the dead men on the pavement, giving one corpse a nudge with her boot, "These hills are just swarming with bandits, and now that the soldier's men are running every which way, I'm not so sure the interstate off-ramp was such a good idea."

"Is that right?" Joel grumbled sarcastically to himself. He had mentioned time and again that they should have built panic rooms. Dig pits in the back yards like tornado shelters and cover them with dirt and vegetation from outside Jackson. Perhaps have someone run a wire between each pit and teach someone from each family or room group how to use Morse code. It didn't really matter now. His suggestion was shot down when Tommy said, "Relax, Joel, we're safe here."

Nothin's safe, baby brother. Only safer. He should have said it out loud instead of in his head. Now Ellie was gone.

Ellie.

That simple name brought a hundred feelings to the surface. Anger. Guilt. Shame. Pride. Hope. Fear. And the need to leave and get to searching.

She needs me.

She can handle herself.

She's ain't gonna last.

She's a tough little girl.

I gotta find 'er.

You will.

She's my baby girl.

She ain't your baby girl.

That was what stung the most. No matter how close they had become, no matter how they acted toward each other, Ellie was someone else's child. Ellie didn't talk much about her mother, but Joel knew that the poor woman was dead before Ellie even knew her. As for her father, she didn't know if he was dead or alive. She said it didn't really matter to her when Joel brought it up. She said that as far as she was concerned her birth father wasn't her real father. Joel wondered what would happen if her 'real' father showed up. Joel realized it wouldn't have mattered. If the man tried to hurt Ellie in any way, Joel would probably have killed the man and left the body to rot in the woods.

Another person you'd murder to keep her safe. Her own flesh and blood, too.

He considered Ellie his daughter. For all intents and purposes, Ellie was his daughter. He wouldn't give her up. Not for the Fireflies, not for Marlene, not for Jackson, not for anyone.

This was the rendezvous. Where the hell is everyone?

Dead, most likely.

That realization normally wouldn't have terrified him as much as it did. If it weren't for Ellie...

God, I hope she made it somewhere safe.

"Joel."

He looked up to Tommy, "Hm?"

"I said, we should go to the dam, see if there's any survivors holed up there. Sound like a good idea to you?"

Should have gone there in the first place.

"Sure."

"Let's get a move on, then."

Joel sighed, rolled his shoulders once, and stepped into place behind Tommy. He'd spent twenty years in a haze. For once, it had been clear. It was beginning to come back.

(The following evening)

The haze was over him a lot sooner than he expected. Joel felt deaf. He saw Tommy and Maria speaking, saw their lips move. Saw them glance, concerned, over at him. A lot. He followed them. They'd ask him things. He'd answer. Did he process what he heard? No. They might as well have been taking him to the moon. That night, as they set camp, Joel sat down against a tree at the edge of camp. Maria set her stuff down near the center of the little clearing and climbed into her sleeping bag. Tommy joined her.

Joel kept watch half the night. The quiet moans coming out of Tommy's sleeping bag left no room for imagination. In Jackson, Joel might have felt embarrassed to be so close to such a lewd, if quiet, display of affection. He might have told them to get a room. Wolf whistled. Cracked a joke. He'd been getting good at jokes lately. Amanda always laughed at them. Ellie came up with better ones. Now, he just felt numb.

A while after things got quiet, Tommy came out of his sleeping bag. He sat down beside Joel.

"Hey," he said quietly.

Joel gave him a curt nod. They sat in silence for a time. Tommy spoke.

"I've been thinkin', tomorrow we're gonna get up to the dam. I bet some folks beat us to the highway, saw that nobody was there, decided the dam's the best place to go. It's fortified. Maria said she saw a few tracks headin' that way."

Joel didn't respond.

"Might be we find your girl there."

"Ellie."

He looked up at Tommy.

"Her name's Ellie."

"We'll find 'er, Joel."

I hope to God we do.

They sat silently some more. Then Tommy decided to open his mouth.

"Joel, I gotta ask you, you went through help and high water to take 'er to the-"

" No."

"You said at Jackson the Fireflies were gonna-"

"No."

"Goddammit, Joel, I need you to trust me with things."

"I ain't gonna talk about it, Tommy. It's done."

Joel got up and went to the other end of the clearing. Nobody in Jackson had known the truth about what happened with the Fireflies. Joel had worked hard to keep it that way. Well, almost no one knew. There was one who had coaxed the truth from him. A woman he'd grown to love.

Amanda.

He sat down, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. It wouldn't come easily, but as it finally wafted over him, he recalled the first time he had told the truth about the Fireflies.

(Three weeks before the fall of Jackson)

They lay naked in each other's arms, her head resting on his chest. Joel felt her lips when Amanda smiled. The warm flesh, the slick, cooling sweat, a glow in his heart. It felt so alien. Like some sort of distant dream. Two women had laid like that, once. More than two decades ago for one, a year ago or more for the other. He didn't want to repeat their names.

"I'm gonna have to shave this," Amanda said with a smirk, bringing him out of his head.

"Uh-uh, ain't happenin'."

He couldn't help but smile.

"You're not the one who has to rest their head on it. It's warm, but its gotta come off," she said as she lifted her head to rest her chin on him. He ran a hand through her hair.

"Nope," he said, smiling for the first time in what felt like years. Perhaps it was years.

"You worried I'm gonna cut your nipples off?" she said with a grin.

God, he could get lost in that smile.

"Nah, I ain't worried."

"So, it's fine then. I'll get the razor."

She started to get up, but he pulled her in tighter.

"I ain't lettin' you go just yet," he grumbled with a smile. She smiled with him.

"It is kind of comfy in a coarse, scratchy way. It's kind of like sleeping on a scrubbing pad," she ran her nails through it and over his chest for emphasis.

"I get it, you want it shaved. I'll take the razor to it in the mornin'."

"No, don't, " she said suddenly, "I like it."

"Really," he said, sensing a lie.

"I do!"

"Uh-huh."

"Plus it'll be winter soon."

"Sure."

She kissed him lightly on the lips, brushing the coarse hairs just above them.

"Joel," she said, "I don't really care that much if you're as hairy as a bear. I just like poking fun at you for it," she stayed silent for a moment before grinning, "Even if they sometimes get stuck in my mouth."

They both laughed then and she rested her head back on his chest.

"I love hearing you laugh, Joel," she said, hand lazily stroking his chest, "If I could make you laugh all day, I would."

"Is that so?"

She nodded, "I'm not the one who does though."

"And who does?"

"Ellie."

Her answer shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. He remained silent. She gave him a concerned look.

"That girl is special, Joel. She's a handful, kinda mouthy sometimes, but she's got spirit."

"Yes, she does."

Amanda propped herself up on her elbows, "You know, when I first met her, there was this...sadness behind her eyes. She smiled and laughed, but I just couldn't shake the feeling there was something else. She finally opened up to me about Riley."

They stayed in silence for a moment.

"There's something on her mind. We've all lost people, Joel, but this thing with Riley is eating her up, whether she wants to admit it or not. Something just doesn't add up."

Joel knew what she was going to ask about before the words came out of her mouth.

"What happened with the Fireflies, Joel?"

He sighed. He wanted to tell her the truth. Amanda hated it when people lied to her, and Joel didn't want to lie to her. But if Ellie heard. If Ellie knew. Then...he couldn't even think about it. He had to wave her off.

"I already told you what happened."

He knew he made a mistake as soon the words left his mouth. Her brow furrowed and she frowned.

"Yeah. And it's bullshit," she snarled before rolling off of him. He knew better than to try to pull her back. She sat up at the edge of the and began to dress quietly.

"Amanda?" he said, sitting up. She ignored him. Her shirt was on and she was already pulling on her pants.

"Wait," he put a hand on her shoulder. She stopped dressing, but he could tell she was a moment away from shoving his hand off and leaving.

"I don't mean to lie to everyone."

She sniffed. Was she crying?

"Yeah, well, you are. It must be pretty fucking bad if you're not willing to tell me or Ellie," she stood up and pulled her pants on. She didn't stalk off. She did turn around and take his hand. She looked into his eyes earnestly, "Joel, whatever it is, you have got to tell her. It's eating her up inside."

"She can't hear the truth from me," he said. He felt her begin to pull away and added, "'cause it's my damn fault."

She froze and turned. Just then, the whole story came spilling out, from the university, the mountain resort, the cannibals, all the way to Salt Lake City. He told about the giraffes, the picture of him and his daughter Ellie gave him, the tunnel of infected, the close call with the clicker, the tunnel full of water, and finally the hospital. He told her the truth of what the Fireflies planned to do to Ellie to get the vaccine, what he did to save her. He didn't need to explain the lie, but he did anyway. The whole time, Amanda listened. She sat back down early on in the story, and when Joel was finished, she had her hand on his shoulder. After he was silent for a time, she spoke.

"You didn't have a choice whether you could save your daughter."

He nodded.

"But you could save Ellie."

He nodded again, and for the first time in a long time, he felt tears. Felt sobs. Felt all the sorrow, the anger, the despair, and the fear of the last twenty years finally break. He wept bitterly. He curled up and cried. Amanda pulled him to her, let his head rest on her shoulder, ran her fingers through his hair with comforting strokes.

"I know you're trying to protect her, Joel," she murmured into his ear, "but you owe it to her to explain it. It's not my place to tell, so she needs to hear it from you. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, but you need to tell her what you did and why you did it."

He nodded. She kissed his hair.

"It's going to be okay, Joel," she whispered, "It's going to be okay."

He believed her.

(Five days after Jackson's fall)

Running, running through hallways, running through a burning town, running up and down hills, a girl in his arms with red hair, blonde hair. Eyes shut, eyes open, glassy, lifeless. Gunfire, bullets whipping past him, biting into his shoulder. Frantic crying. Blood pouring over his hands. A little hand in his. A small chamber, a man in a mask and a rifle, a woman with a pistol.

"Sir...they've got a little girl."

"It's what she'd want. And you know it."

A gunshot.

Joel awoke with a start, a half-remembered nightmare of an atrocity already fading from his mind. Tommy and Maria were already awake and packing away their gear when Joel stood up to help them. He never slept well. No matter how long he rested, no matter what kind of bedding, he always woke up exhausted. And the rough ground was especially poor on his back. He bent backward and the tension released with a mighty crack.

"We headin' to the dam today?" was the first question out of his mouth.

"Actually…we wanted to talk to you," Tommy replied, scratching his scraggly beard, "Now, this might not be news you want to hear, so you might wanna sit down for a minute."

Joel sat down casually, but felt ice in his veins. Maria knelt down beside him. This wasn't going to be good, he could just tell. Her voice was tender and gentle.

"Joel," she said, "I had to run into Ghost Town to evade pursuers and I...found this."

She pulled up a blood-soaked Converse sneaker with a ragged hole in the sole and the top.

No.

"There...was a severed foot inside it. Shot all to hell. It was rotting and...I'm sorry, Joel."

No, no, no.

"There was a blood trail out of the building, but it...I lost it, Joel. It didn't look good."

No, goddammit, no. Not again.

"I think we have to face the facts. She's gone, Joel."

"You don't know that," Joel growled. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder.

"Joel," Maria said kindly, eyes watering with tears, "It's going to be okay."

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

"It's going to be okay."

He didn't believe her.