A/N: Oh man. Had a lot of fun with this chapter. It's good to get back to something lighthearted after the emotional wreck that was the last chapter. Feels good.

I know I've reiterated this a million times, but I'm going to do it again: sincerely, thank you to anyone who's ever left me a review or sent a message. Some of the things you've said have make me blush. You're too kind, seriously. Thank you.

Enjoy the chapter!

DISCLAIMER/LEGAL MUMBO-JUMBO: I do not own The Last of Us, it is Naughty Dog's property.

CHAPTER 6

LABORS

"So all of the sudden, this fucker bashes Joel on the head with his shotgun!" Ellie recreated the motion in dramatic fashion as they walked, Tommy listening intently. Joel strode alongside him silently, smirk on his face, quite entertained by Ellie's theatrics. "I saw Joel drop like a sack of potatoes, and I knew I had to act fast. So I lined him up in the scope," Ellie brought the invisible rifle up to her cheek and lined up her shot on the imaginary hunter at the top of a distant building. She fingered the trigger. "POW! Blasted that fucker right through the forehead!"

"Goddamn!" Tommy exclaimed.

"But then I saw his buddy sprinting down the catwalk towards Joel, gun in hand. I had one bullet left, and he was running; a moving target. I lined him up, and led the shot like Joel taught me to. When he hit the ground, I could hardly believe it myself."

"Told ya she's a crack shot," Joel chimed in proudly. "Right in the forehead again. Saw it with my own two eyes." Ellie beamed at his endorsement.

"And all of that was after getting shot," she informed Tommy, rolling up her left sleeve to show off the scarred tissue where the bullet had winged her. "Not bad, right?"

"Well, I must say, Ellie… I'm impressed," Tommy answered. "Remind me not to get on your bad side." Ellie walked a bit taller upon his reply.

It had been two weeks since they arrived in Jackson, and Joel and Ellie were still working to adjust to the change. Joel was still as light of a sleeper as he'd ever been. Several nights he would spring out of bed at the sound of wind pushing the window shut or the house settling on its foundation, half-expecting to find an assailant in the room. Ellie found herself regularly checking over her shoulder as she walked about town, always wary of phantom hunters or listening for the sounds of Infected. But nothing ever came. The two of them felt reluctant to relinquish the vigilance that had meant survival on the road, yet paranoia within the confines of the city. Slowly, they were trying to weaken the grip of the tension that clung to their bones.

Tommy suggested they find something to put their minds at ease, and, not completely without selfish intent, recommended they find work, some way to help out around Jackson. Joel had tapped into his former abilities to help Tommy with some reconstruction efforts on particularly dilapidated buildings in the city, in addition to finally being dragged into guard rotation.

Tommy had pulled some strings to get Ellie a regular shift working in the stables, watching after the lot of horses. Typically, kids were more or less exempted from serious labor, instead being relegated to more menial tasks, but most of the adults in town had come to accept Ellie as an equal, not just another kid. She was still insisting she be given a shift at a guard tower, but Tommy hadn't ceded on that account just yet. Ellie hoped her story of proficiency with a rifle would sway his decision.

Today was to be her first day at the stables, and Joel had offered to walk her there with Tommy. The late-spring morning was bright and clear, sparse puffs of clouds dotting the sky. The three of them greeted the various townsfolk they passed on the way to the stables.

Ellie had requested the shift at the stables for a number of reasons. First of all, she loved horses. Ever since getting riding lessons through the mall from Winston in the Boston QZ, she had been fascinated by the creatures. But more than that, she preferred their company to other people, besides Joel and perhaps Tommy and Maria. She had spent a limited amount of time with the other kids her age, but found nothing to relate about. After all, she had killed more Infected than any of them and most of their parents combined. Most of these people weren't hardened survivors like her and Joel. They had ridden a wave of luck that brought them to the doorstep of Tommy's settlement.

All of this left Ellie rather isolated. She had Joel, and by extent, Tommy and Maria, and to her, that was enough. Her relational walls only came down when she was around Joel, and people took note of it. She was always more cheerful, lively, and receptive to interaction when she was with him. This led most people in town to assume that they were biological father and daughter, and neither Joel nor Ellie cared to correct their assumptions.

Upon rounding a corner, the stables came into view. The stables had been converted from what was once a rather sizeable rambler house. Walls had been knocked out and stalls erected to house several horses and ponies, and the roof was mostly intact, providing shelter for the animals and their keepers. A gruff-looking man greeted them at the entrance.

"Mornin', Grant," Tommy said.

Grant nodded. "Tommy. Joel." He turned to Ellie. "You must be Ellie. Don't believe I've had the pleasure," he said, extending a weathered hand.

Ellie shook it, taking note of the thickly calloused palms. She could gather that this was a man who had worked with his hands his entire life. He was probably a five to ten years older than Joel, hair more noticeably gray, but frame still strong and rugged. Most noticeable of all his features were his eyes. They were slightly sunken into his face, and matched the color of the morning spring sky, a light cloudless blue. Looking into them told a story; one of sadness, pain, and loss, but also hope.

He regarded her in a peculiar manner. Pleasant, but detached, the kind of man who was amiable when the situation required, but mostly kept to himself. This was the ideal kind of employer Ellie desired; someone who could offer guidance when needed without being overbearing. "Pleased to meet you, Grant," she responded.

Grant smiled briefly, and turned back to Joel and Tommy. "I got it from here. By week's end, this little sprite will be a seasoned pro."

Joel chuckled, "I don't doubt that, she's a quick study. But keep a close eye on her, or she'll try and run off with one of 'em."

Ellie scoffed. "Oh, c'mon, that was one time."

"Alright, Grant, we'll get out of your hair," Tommy interjected. "C'mon, Joel."

"Now, Ellie, don't give Grant too hard of a time, hmm? Do as you're told," Joel said.

"Sure thing, pops," Ellie said whimsically, not realizing the implication in the words until they had left her lips.

Her reply gave Joel pause, if only for a moment. She caught the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth before he turned around and followed Tommy out of the stables. A butterfly fluttered in Ellie's stomach for a moment, but she squashed it immediately. She had never called Joel by anything besides his name, other than a jestful "old man" here and there. She had never called him "dad" or "father" or anything remotely close. Her eyes darted across the floor for a moment in bewilderment. Only Grant's words snapped her out of her temporary paralysis.

"Hey, Ellie! Let's get to it, hm?"

"Right."

Grant spent the rest of the morning showing Ellie around the stables. She was dying to interact with the horses themselves, and fought with her impatience while Grant showed her where they kept the hay, how they provided the animals with water, what to do in case of a fire, and various other pertinent information she would have to learn in order to become a competent stablehand. He informed her that he would be there to help her out when she needed it, and also gave her the overview of what he would remain in charge of: the daily logs. Grant had devised a thorough and detailed system for tracking who had and who was allowed to check horses in and out of the stables.

"Your stunt at the dam is the only time I've lost track of a horse," he said. "These are valuable creatures, even more so since the world went to hell. You bet your ass I've reworked my system to prevent something like that from ever happenin' again."

"You were there? Last fall?" Ellie asked.

"Mmm-hmm. You made quite an impression with that stunt. When they told me you were interested in workin' at the stables, well… let's just say I took a little convincin'. Wasn't eager to hire the only horse thief who had snuck by my all-seeing eye," he said, standing tall with mock hubris. "Hell, even now I'm hesitant to show you the horses."

"Oh, c'mon! I promise I won't steal one again!" she tried to make herself look as innocent as possible.

Grant studied her for a moment, then finally relented. "Alright. Let's go see 'em."

He led them to the row of stalls where the horses stood, looking stoic and noble in the light pouring in through the windows. The room had clearly been created from two, possibly three, rooms that had once occupied the space, only load-bearing beams remaining as evidence of the missing walls. There were about twenty stalls spread throughout the space, with an aisle that weaved between them. Roughly half of the stalls were occupied, and Grant informed her that four of their horses were currently "saddled," his term for out on rental.

"May I?" Ellie inquired, gesturing towards the animals.

"Be my guest."

She approached the great beasts slowly and carefully, as not to startle them. Grant's piercing blue eyes looked on as she greeted each one, running her hand over the bridge of their towering noses and cooing softly to them. She moved from one to the other, introducing herself and petting each one.

"So… what ever happened to that one you and Joel ended up takin'?" Grant asked as she mingled with the horses. "He was one of my favorites."

He noticed her gaze turn somber, reminiscing on events passed. "Callus," she said simply.

"Excuse me?"

"I named him Callus. He carried us a long way. He-" she stopped, and shivered. "He was shot by some sick fuckers as we tried to escape them."

Grant frowned and shifted his gaze to the floor. "He was a good horse."

Ellie nodded in silence, and secretly wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Grant noticed, and turned to walk out of the room. He returned a minute later with the logbook and began writing in it.

"What are you doing?" Ellie asked.

"I'm addin' you to the list. Anytime you want to saddle, you can take a horse, no questions asked." Grant's eyes remained fixed on the logbook as he jotted a few notes on the tattered page.

Ellie was touched by his show of kindness. "Th-thank you," she stammered.

"Mmm… it's nothin'. I can tell an equestrian-at-heart when I see one."

She smiled. "So. That's the whole tour… where do I begin?"

Grant smirked, crossed to a corner of the room, and returned with a shovel. "Well… let's just say hay ain't the only thing that needs shovelin' around here."

Ellie groaned and took the shovel from his hand.

Joel couldn't believe it. Steam began to accumulate in the room. He blinked several times and shook his head, swearing that it was all some sinister illusion. He tentatively reached a hand out and recoiled at the burn. Hot water. Their work on the pumps had been a success. He tried desperately to remember the last time he had had a shower, let alone one under hot water. It was a memory long forgotten. He started unbuttoning his shirt when he heard commotion downstairs.

He descended the staircase as Ellie flopped down on the couch. She was filthy, even by post-apocalyptic standards, and let out a loud exhausted groan.

"So fucking tired."

"Mmm-hmm. That's what a hard day's work feels like." Joel sniffed the air loudly. "And you stink, too."

She glared at him, but knew he was right. She noticed a look cross Joel's face, a look that meant he had an idea.

"Hey, c'mon. I got a surprise for you."

She peeled herself off of the couch and trudged up the stairs behind him, pausing at the top when she noticed the cloud of steam emerging from the bathroom. "Is… is that what I think it is?"

"How long has it been since you had a hot shower?" he asked.

"Never."

"Serious? Not even at the preparatory school?"

"Nope. Showers there were always ice cold. I hated them. Personally, I'd rather go dirty than freeze my bony little ass off."

Joel laughed. "Well, alright then. Get on in there and clean yourself up. One of the ladies in town even managed to make some soap. The old fashioned way, mind you."

"I used to be addicted to soap-"

"But you're filthy now, so go get clean," he pushed her into the bathroom.

Ellie closed the door, and Joel leaned with his back to the wall and slid down it until he was sitting with his arms propped on his knees. He listened through the door as she chirped with delight upon feeling the water for the first time. He heard her begin splashing about, squealing with glee. Joel closed his eyes as she started whistling, a smile growing on his face.

He didn't mind a bit when she used all of the hot water.

AFTERMATH: PART II CONTINUES

WITH CHAPTER 7