This is my first time writing a fic for The Last of Us! This is definitely going to be canon divergence central, just so you know. Also, expect tons of music references. I can't really do them in my other fics and I'll be damned if I can't reference all my favorite 70's and 80's songs here. Let me know what you think!
"When there's blood in the sky – red and blue = purple... purple rain pertains to the end of the world and being with the one you love and letting your faith/god guide you through the purple rain."
- Prince
"Charlotte," a voice says. I turn around to see Marlene leaning against the doorway. Her curly brown hair is messier than normal, flyaways surround her face. Her face is shining with sweat. "You finished reading those?"
"Yeah," I say as I put the file in my hand back on the table.
"You think this could work?" She asks, walking into the room and shutting the door behind her. "You think we could have a vaccine?"
"I'm not a doctor, Marlene," I say as I rub my hand on the back of my neck. It's sore from looking down at the files for so long. "And I'm sure as hell not an epidemiologist," I shake my head. Her eyes narrow.
"You're the best nurse in the QZ, what do you think?"
"The procedure will kill whoever you think might be immune," I say and she winces, looking at the window instead of me.
"But it will work," she says after a few moments, looking back at me.
"I think so."
"Be at the safe house tomorrow morning. I want you to check something out."
I stare at her.
"You really think this person is immune?" Marlene's eye twitches at my question.
"I know she's immune."
"How?"
"Do you always have to be such a pain in the ass?"
"Do you always have to leave me in the dark? Like you said, I'm the best nurse in the QZ," I turn in my chair and cross my arms as I lean against the back of it. "I'm not a new kid to the QZ anymore, Marlene. You know you can trust me."
"We've been keeping an eye on her," Marlene sighs. "Done some tests, she lights up for the virus on a scanner but she hasn't turned in over a week."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Tonight, look through the files in this room for other signs we might not know of. Be at the safe house tomorrow morning, and when you spend time with her this week to see if you think she's immune."
"And if she is?"
"We'll pack up and take her to Dr. Anderson in the west. He's the best chance we've got at a cure."
"I'm already short on time-"
"FEDRA thinks you're down with the flu from the lack of sleep," she says. The look in her eyes shows how unhappy she is about that. Lack of sleep makes it easier for you to get sick.
Even worse, it can cause you to slip up and get caught or killed. I don't know which one is worse.
Marlene walks over and drops a bag on the desk beside the files. "Should get you through the night," she nods down at the bag before she turns and leaves the room without another word.
"Why did she want me to look through all of these? There's nothing new," I mumble under my breath as I slide some of the files I've read into the cabinet.
It's always the same.
Whether they were infected by the contaminated food at the beginning, bitten, or inhaled spores, it's always the same.
The first symptoms are always erratic, violent behavior.
Over time they lose their vision, and develop lesions.
Runners still look somewhat human.
But after a couple weeks or a year, they change. Stalkers have fungal plates that grow over their eyes. They evolve to make up for their lack of sight, using echolocation to find their prey. They sometimes even hibernate within fungal growths until they're disturbed.
I rub my forehead as I look out the window. The sky is a light orange now. I walk over to the desk, leaving the rest of the files on the floor. There better be something with caffeine in this bag from Marlene.
My hands shake as I open it. I've gone too long without food, again. Between official FEDRA duties and work with the fireflies, I'm spread thin even though I've got the ration cards to eat.
If I'm not careful I'm going to end up sick on this crazy trip Marlene is going to send us on. She's already made up her mind that this person is immune. The thought of finding someone with immunity has been the only thing keeping her from losing her mind in all of this.
And once Marlene makes up her mind, that's it.
There's an energy drink in the bag. Something only FEDRA officers get. I don't want to know what she's done to get this.
I open the drink and down it quickly. It burns my throat, I cough when I'm finished. But I don't have a choice. I sit back down at the desk and eat half the sandwich that's inside the bag quickly.
It's a delicacy to have fresh vegetables like this in the QZ.
But I have to force myself to finish. The food feels heavy in my hands and stomach.
I had a bad feeling before Marlene dragged me into this room yesterday afternoon. It's only grown with the hours I've spent here.
I wrap up the other half of the sandwich and stuff it into my pocket before I crumble up the bag and throw it in the trash. I look around the room, taking in the cramped space.
There's only enough room for the desk that's shoved against the window and the filing cabinets lined against the opposite wall by the door. I look down at the files on the floor and walk back over.
The last of the files are the ones focused on the final stages of the infection. I thought that I could maybe look for signs of infection from those stages, to see if they may be just under the surface when I'm with whoever Marlene thinks is immune.
But there's nothing under the surface with Clickers and Bloaters. Clickers are the stage after Stalkers, they perfect the echolocation skills that Stalkers start to develop, and they have enhanced strength. This person obviously doesn't have the protective thick fungal plates that Clickers have that makes it so hard to kill them.
And Bloaters are the end stage, the worst of them all. I've only seen a handful of them in the years since the outbreak. And each time was horrible. Their towering bodies don't look even somewhat human anymore.
The thought that the host is still alive in that stage still keeps me up at night.
I shake my head and arrange the files back in the way they'd been in before. I slip them into the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet before I shut it. I go to stand up but pause. I open the bottom drawer before closing it again.
At first I thought I was just hearing things from the lack of sleep.
But it's there.
Something is catching, there's something else in here.
I reach my hand to the very back, hoping that a file isn't under the drawer itself. I move my hand around a bit until I feel it. A folder that feels just like the others, but this one is thicker.
Much thicker.
It's awkward, but I manage to pull it out. There's nothing on the outside, unlike the other folders.
All the other folders are labeled clearly.
I feel my heart start to race and I don't know if it's the energy drink or my own anxiety.
All I know is that I was not supposed to find this.
Marlene has kept things from me in the past. Especially when she first found me and brought me to the QZ. Just like I've always been keeping things from her, too.
But I feel like this isn't her hiding something to protect me like she did when I was younger. I sit down on the floor and put the file on the hardwood in front of me. I don't trust myself not to drop it and chance mixing up the papers inside of it.
I feel sick as soon as I start to read the first page. An index of the file. A list of names. All of them have the word immune next to them.
"What the hell?" I whisper as I turn a page. I regret it immediately.
I've seen death. It's hard not to see it living in what the world has become.
But seeing a picture of a child in a morgue with a stamp mark that reads success above it might be one of the worst things I've seen. I turn the page, the only sounds in the room are the pages moving against each other from my hand shaking.
I can't breathe.
After testing, we found that only material from someone immune to the virus may be used. There is a section of fungus in the brain that can be carved out and divided into a number of vials, but there is not enough material for a widespread cure.
From patient zero, there was enough material found to make a cure for ten adults. Six vials were used for testing. Two were allocated to influential donors to the cause. Two were given to members of the medical team for future testing, Dr. Anderson and his head nurse.
"Oh my god." I repeat the words over and over again until I force myself to turn the page. It's another patient file, just like the one before. Those vials went towards testing and the guards of the medical facility.
More and more of the vials go to donors as I turn the pages.
Until I get to the first page that doesn't have a victim on it.
Of the next batch of vials, five will be given to donors. Two will be given to new medical staff. One will be used for research into replication of the vials. One will be given to the head of the Hunters for safe passage to receive the vials. One will be given to the leader of the Fireflies.
"No wonder she's so set on this," I whisper. I fight the urge to tear up the file. It doesn't matter that Marlene took me in as a younger sibling. That she helped get me the medical training that's kept me an asset to both FEDRA and the Fireflies.
If she knows I know this, I'm dead.
I turn the page again.
It's a list of names. I recognize a few. Children I've seen come through the clinic over the years for vaccines and regular check-ups. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with them.
But the title of the list makes my vision turn white with anger.
Future patients.
Beside each child's name are names of their family members or guardians. A few of the names are crossed out. On one line all the names are crossed out. It's a name I don't recognize from my time in the clinic, but from earlier in the file.
I look through the list again and pause before I start combing back over the "procedure summaries," at the beginning of the large file. All of them are orphans.
I go back to the list of names at the end of the file. Of the names crossed out, only three of them died of natural causes. The others were found dead, murdered, or died on a dangerous job in the QZ.
I hear footsteps down the hall and quickly shut the file and slip it back where it was. I double check its placement before I pick up a file at the front of the drawer and open it as the footsteps come in front of the door.
The door slams open, making a loud bang when the wooden door hits the metal filing cabinet. I look up from the file to see Marlene once again. Her shoulders are tense, her eyes are red. Her shoulders relax and her eyes soften as she looks down at me.
"You didn't find anything," she says as she kneels in front of me. I shake my head as her hands cover my own. They feel searing hot and I fight the urge to pull away. "It's not your fault I was asking you to find something that wasn't there."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to make sure, I can't believe it myself," she laughs. "But we're going to find the cure. We're going to find a way to save humanity." There's hope in her eyes.
She really believes what she's saying. She's not just in it for a vial for herself. I feel something settle in my chest as she talks to me about the drama that unfolded throughout the week that I missed. She guides me into closing the file and putting it back in the cabinet before she leads me from the room. Just as she's done countless times before when my anxiety has pulled me away from my body.
I'm in a daze as we walk to the safe house together.
I've never really fought Marlene. We've always disagreed on the ability to find a cure. She's always believed there's a way, she thinks of it like other epidemics throughout history.
But this isn't a virus like human kind has seen before. The only way it will stop is if human bodies evolve faster than the fungus. Maybe it's why these patients, these victims, were immune.
But only time will tell.
Marlene knocks on a door in the safe house.
"You're just going to come in anyways," a bored voice calls from inside. My lips twitch.
"You're both going to kill me," Marlene mutters under her breath, but she smiles. "Haven't seen you smile since before," she pauses her whispers when she sees my smile disappear. She throws the door open. I glare at the back of her head.
"Well, are you coming?" Marlene asks, her annoyance clear in her voice. I roll my eyes and walk into the room. It's small, but larger than the one I'd been in all night. Windows line one of the walls, but the room is empty.
Except for the young girl sitting chained to the wall. Her clothes are dirty and hanging off of her, like she hasn't had anything to eat in ages. Her hair is messy, filled with knots that will take ages to comb out. She plays with a switchblade in her hand, flicking the blade open every couple of seconds, fidgeting. It reminds me of playing with those fidget toys they gave me in school after I was diagnosed with ADHD.
"Ellie-" Marlene tries to say, but the girl cuts her off with an indignant squawk.
"I thought you said you'd keep my name safe!"
"I am," Marlene says. She's calm. She's always calm unless you've really pissed her off. "This is Charlotte," she motions to me with her hand. The girl turns to look at me and I freeze. It's almost like looking into a mirror of my younger self.
"I've known her for years, she's like family," Marlene continues.
"Like family," the girl mumbles under her breath as she looks back down at the switchblade.
"You're not going to piss me off, kid. This one already tried all of your tricks throughout her early twenties," Marlene tilts her head towards me before focusing on Ellie again. "A fourteen year old version won't get to me, either."
"Yeah, yeah," Ellie says. She doesn't believe Marlene.
"Charlotte's a nurse, she'll be the one to clear you for travel at the end of the week. No funny business," she says as she looks at Ellie and then at me for a second longer. Ellie snorts. Marlene ignores her.
"I'm going to get back to work, report to me later."
"I need some supplies," I tell her immediately.
"Fine, just get back as soon as you can," Marlene sighs as she leaves the room.
"What supplies?" Ellie asks.
"You'll see," I say as I turn on my heel and leave the room.
This vial won't save humanity, only those with connections to powerful people. I'm not going to save humanity.
But maybe, just maybe I can save this one kid.
"It's not poisoned is it?" Ellie asks as she turns the half of my sandwich in her hand. I shrug.
"No clue, but I'm still alive and I had the other half earlier," I say as I start looking through the bag I brought with me. Ellie eyes me from across the room but takes a tentative bite of the sandwich.
"You know, the others don't come as close as you do." It sounds like an offhand comment. But I know what it is. She's trying to figure me out. I smile, my first full, genuine smile in I don't know how long.
"Because they're being idiots. There's no way you're infected."
"Then why are you staying with me for a week?"
"Gets me out of work for the week," I wink at her. "Marlene is a worrywart when she finds a new duckling, don't worry about it."
"Well, everyone else is worried about it," she mumbles into her food.
"What I'm worried about is how you're not eating," I say as I look at her. She waves the sandwich at me and I roll my eyes. "You've lost weight, your clothes are hanging off you."
"They just throw stuff at me or slide it across the floor. I didn't trust it."
"Good," I nod and look back in my bag. "That will keep you alive." I pull out the hair brush, spray bottle, and conditioner I traded too many ration cards for. I go to walk towards Ellie, but she flinches.
"It's just stuff for your hair," I say gently. "A brush, water, and conditioner."
"They didn't even have conditioner at the military school," she says after she swallows another bite of her sandwich.
"I traded for it."
"Got to keep your hair perfect, blondie?" I blink at her before it clicks. Right, blonde hair.
"More like you need to feel human again," I snort as I sit down beside her. "Now, you gonna let me help you get these knots out?"
"You got this for me?" Her voice sounds so small, I feel my heart break.
"Yeah, you deserve it after all of this shit," I say as I stretch my legs out.
"Marlene didn't even get this close."
"Then how'd they do their tests?"
Ellie snorts before she chokes on her food. I shoot her a look and she ducks her head. But then she wraps what's left of the sandwich and tucks it into her backpack. And then she stands, holding a hand out in front of her.
"Ellie, well, I told them I was Veronica," she says as she tilts her head. "One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-fuck-you."
"What, did they want to know how many layers it took to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" She looks at me, confused. I shake my head.
"Well," I say as she stares at me. "That's fucking stupid." She throws both of her arms up in the air before bringing them back down.
"I know! That's what I've been telling them!"
"Come on, let's clean you up." She looks at me for a second before she comes to sit down beside me. "Is it okay for me to sit behind you?"
"You have a gun?"
"More than one." She looks in my eyes for a second before she lets out an explosive sigh. She turns around on the floor, looking out the windows instead of looking at me.
I hear footsteps move against the hardwood outside of the door. They're moving away from us. My shoulders relax as I turn and cross my legs, moving closer to her back. I pull Ellie's hair out of her ponytail when she starts to speak.
"How did you even end up here?" She asks. "You're British, right? I heard that accent in old radio programs."
"How I ended up here is a story for another day, kiddo."
"It's always a story for another day," she whines. I hear the steady sound of the switchblade opening and closing.
"But," I say after a moment. "How about I tell you a secret that the Fireflies don't know about me?"
"But you're a Firefly."
"I am. If they find out this secret, I'm screwed." There's silence in the room.
"Why would you tell me?" Ellie asks as I pick up the spray bottle.
"You're going to feel the water," I say first. She nods and I spray the ends of part of her hair. "You gave them a fake name, you know identity is important in this world."
"I do," she says quietly.
"I'm not British," I say just as quietly. Ellie stills. "I've changed other things about me, too. So when it comes time for me to leave, I can be safe."
"You've been planning to leave this whole time? Why the hell would you join them?"
"They were my only hope."
"But they're not anymore," Ellie says. "Because of me being the key for the cure."
"It's not you, kiddo. I learned at a very young age, just like you, that just because something seems good, seems true, it doesn't mean that it is."
"How old were you, when it happened?"
"Sixteen."
"Marlene found you soon, then?" She asks as I start massaging some of the conditioner in a knotted part of her hair.
"No. We didn't meet until I was twenty."
"She acted like she knew you when you were a teenager," Ellie says as she fidgets in her spot. I move onto another part of her hair and spray it with the water.
"I still acted like a teenager. For those of us who were still kids, we were still developing when it hit. No matter how much the adults tried to protect us, they couldn't. Which meant we couldn't grow like people before us did, we were behind in some things and way too far ahead in others."
"You're not lying to me like they are."
"I don't have a reason to, kiddo."
"I'm not a kid."
"I know the world hasn't treated you like one, but you are," I say as gently as I can. "This might hurt, I'm going to start detangling your hair."
"It's fine."
"I haven't started yet."
"Yeah, ye- what the fuck?"
"I guess my mom wasn't lying after all," I say more to myself than to Ellie.
"What?"
"She always told me that she was trying to go as easy as she could when she brushed my hair, but it always hurt like a bitch."
"Yeah?"
"I guess it's a rite of passage when you grow up with curly hair."
"Your hair is straighter than mine."
"Don't mind my old lady talk," I say and Ellie freezes. And then she laughs.
"You're a shitty liar."
"I've heard that before."
"Yeah?" I hum as I add more conditioner to her hair.
"He said I'm a shitty liar to the people that matter most."
"You said you've been lying to the Fireflies."
"I did."
"Marlene is the head of the Fireflies."
"She is."
"Can I trust them?"
"That's up for you to decide, kiddo."
"Can I trust you?"
"I will do everything I can to support you."
"That's not an answer, why can't adults just give an answer," she groans as she tilts her head back to look at me. I smile down at her before wetting the hair at the crown of her head.
"Because we don't have all the answers. No one does. And if they say they do, they're lying."
"Marlene said there's a doctor out west, that they'll be able to find the cure because of me."
"She did," I say as I focus on avoiding her eyes.
"It was like she had an answer for everything."
"She always does," I nod as I start to massage the conditioner along the crown of her head. She closes her eyes for a second, her body relaxing as she leans back closer to me.
"Will you ever lie to me?"
"More than I already have been?" I ask and she nods her head slightly.
"No."
"Will you look at me?" Ellie asks as she opens her eyes. I take a breath before I look at her. "Why me?" She whispers.
"We're a lot alike," I say quietly. "And even though I can't save myself, I can at least try to save you."