A/N: Um. I don't really have much to say about the chapter itself, except that things is 'bouts to get real interesting. I'll let it speak for itself, I guess. Worst author's note ever.
But I'll at least take time to repeat for the umpteenth time how gracious I am of all the kind comments, reviews, and messages I've received in response to these chapters. Y'all are too kind, really.
DISCLAIMER/LEGAL MUMBO-JUMBO: I do not own the Last of Us, it is Naughty Dog's property.
CHAPTER 7
UNDO
Morning's light crept it's way into the room until it began tickling at Joel's eyelids. They fluttered for a few seconds and reluctantly opened. Outside the window, the world was green and warm. A fresh breeze washed through the room, the fragrant air greeting his nostrils. He sat up and drew in a deep breath, Ellie still dozing beside him. She was wiped out from her first day of work, and he knew it wouldn't be easy to coax her out of bed. It was a task he was looking forward to, but for now, he'd let her sleep in a while longer.
Joel sat on the edge of the mattress and ran his hands over his face, urging his muscles to wake up. Just then, he remembered that hot water was no longer a concept relegated to the past. He had opted out of taking a cold shower following Ellie's forty-five minute cleansing the night before, and now the prospect of a hot morning shower awoke him more than any cup of coffee could have.
He rose from the mattress as quietly as he could manage, but the movement still caused Ellie to stir. He hesitated until she buried her face in the blankets and went back to sleep. Turning to the door, he headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He couldn't suppress the smile that began to grow as the steam began to gather.
Joel disrobed and stepped into the shower. The hot water was invigorating, and he simply stood beneath the stream for minutes on end. This wasn't a quick, cold rinse like the sort he had back in Green River earlier that spring. This was a proper deep cleanse. He worked the soap into his hair with his fingers and felt years of dirt, sweat, and grime loosen and wash down the drain.
"Goddamn," he said with a smile.
When he had finished rinsing the soap off, he stepped out of the shower and dried off with the old towel that hung from the hook. He hadn't felt this refreshed in a long, long time. He nearly didn't recognize himself when he saw his face in the mirror, free of the ever-present coating of dirt. Instead, his skin was bright and fresh, though still weathered with age.
He dressed and returned to pry Ellie out of bed, only to find her standing at the window. She had her elbows on the sill and her face resting on her palms, staring out into the sunshine.
"Mornin'" Joel greeted.
Ellie turned from the window. "Good morning! How's it feel to be all fresh and clean?"
"You have no ide-" he paused, noticing the absence of dirt on her face. "Well, you might have some idea."
"Sure do. Man… going to bed fresh and clean is a great feeling."
"Back before, there was nothin' like takin' a hot shower after a long day of work and then crawlin' into clean sheets." He reminisced on the thought for a second. "Actually, I have an idea. What time you need to be at the stables?"
"Hell if I know, you're one of the only people still wearin' a watch." He gave her a wry look. "Sometime this morning, I suppose."
"Alright. Now that we have hot water, we're gonna do laundry."
"What the hell is that?"
Joel was used to her naïveté by now and replied without a second thought, "It's when you wash your clothes. Now, back in the day we used to have machines that could do it for us. Obviously we're without those luxuries now, so we'll have to do them the old fashioned way: by hand."
Ellie cringed. "That sounds like work."
"Oh, it will be."
"Why would I want to work before going to work?"
Joel shrugged. "That's life, kiddo. Now c'mon. We'll draw some water and put our filthiest stuff in to soak before eatin' breakfast."
He led Ellie down to the garage, where they were able to scrounge up an old Rubbermaid container that would suffice for a laundry basin. Returning to the bathroom, he placed the container in the shower and began filling it with hot water. Ellie looked on intently, knowing sometime in the future it would probably be her turn to do this. Joel then took the bar of homemade soap and rubbed it vigorously in the gathering water, causing bubbles to form on the surface.
"Alright, go get your clothes."
Ellie scampered to the bedroom and pulled out all of her clothes from her backpack. She brought the bundle to Joel and he threw them in the tub. Once the water was at a high enough level, he shut off the shower.
"Okay. I'm gonna grab mine and add them in, you go on downstairs and see what options we have for breakfast."
"Probably stew again."
"I reckon you're right."
Joel brought his pile of dirty flannel shirts and plunged them in the tub before heading downstairs. Ellie was in the kitchen with her head buried in the fridge.
"Joel, check it out!" She turned around with a bowl of brown eggs in her hands, as well as a note. "Looks like Maria left us a present!"
"Well how about that? Been a long time since I've had fried eggs for breakfast."
After a hearty breakfast, Joel brought Ellie back to the container and instructed her to kneel down beside him. He showed her how to scrub the fabric against itself to work out deeply embedded dirt or stains. She absorbed the instructions and committed them to memory. Once they had worked the dirt and sweat stains out of all the clothing, they dumped the water down the drain and turned on the shower to rinse the clothing.
The monkey bars from the jungle gym in the backyard were still more or less intact, and passed well enough for a drying rack. Joel hung each of the shirts in the sun to dry.
"And that's laundry."
"That wasn't too bad, after all."
"Yeah. Actually, I used to find it sort of… therapeutic."
Ellie pondered it for a second. "Yeah, I could see that."
Joel mussed her hair. "C'mon, we gotta get you down to the stables so Grant doesn't give me a piece of his mind about you bein' late."
"Ellie, hand me that bridle, would ya?" Grant instructed. She complied. "Now, watch closely. This can be a little tricky, especially if the animal doesn't quite trust you yet."
She watched as he slipped the bit into the horse's mouth and began fastening some straps around its head. Grant was a good teacher. Patient, slow to frustration, and eager to answer any questions she had.
"See? Easy as that." He patted the animal on the cheek. "There's a good girl. Alright, Ellie, why don't you try the next one."
He brought over the step stool and positioned her in front of the next horse. It took her a couple tries, but the horse was well-behaved and fairly receptive to Ellie's touch. She had it bridled in a few minutes.
Grant looked on in approval. "Well done. Hell, you'll catch on to this in no time." She smiled proudly. "Now c'mon, let's get these saddled so they can go out."
Ellie followed Grant around the stables as he continued teaching her the inner workings of a busy stable. She learned how to saddle the horses, though the saddles themselves were a little too cumbersome for her diminutive frame. She observed Grant shoeing a horse, though it took more muscle than she had to pound the nails in. He insisted she at least learn the process anyway. He offered her reassurance when she felt self-conscious about the constraints put on her by her size.
The sun hung high overhead when they broke for lunch. Grant had traded for some fine cuts of elk from the town butcher and got another man from the town to slow-smoke it. Ellie's eyes fluttered at the burst of flavor with each bite.
"Oh man… this is so fucking good…"
Grant glared at her, and his gaze made her quite uncomfortable. In her brief time with him, she had gathered that wasn't too fond of profanity beyond 'hell' and 'damn,' but old habits die hard.
"Sorry… damn good… so damn good… mmmm-mmmmmmm..."
He scowled, but let it go and took another bite of the meat. Ellie committed to watch her tongue around him. Most of the time she didn't care, but for some reason she felt reluctant to upset Grant.
She decided to change the subject. "So… what did you do for work? Before the outbreak, I mean."
Grant's eyes stayed on his plate while he finished chewing the bite in his mouth. He cleared his throat after swallowing. "I was, uh… a preacher."
"Really?"
"Mmmm-hmmm."
Ellie didn't have too much experience with religion. To her, it didn't seem to have much of a place in this world anymore. The last seemingly-religious person she came across turned out to be a sadistic bastard who ate people, so naturally, she more than a bit skeptical of religious types.
She really didn't know what to say. "So, uh… what do you make of all of this?"
He looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, mankind turning into crazy fungus monsters and civilization collapsing and all that. I haven't been exposed to much scripture, but out of habit, I did skip to the end… the whole apocalypse thing."
Grant shrugged. "Well… a lot of people certainly lost their faith after the world went mad. Lots of people made these claims that they knew when Christ was coming back. Said he was… cleansing the world using the Infected or what have you. When he didn't come back, a lot of people couldn't face the alternative."
Ellie studied his face, but he kept his emotions well hidden. "What about you?"
He looked up and met her gaze before his eyes returned to his plate. "Well, I suppose I never lost my faith. I can't pretend to have a direct line to God's intentions or… know what He has planned for the world, or anything. It's not for me to know. But I believe He's real. I believe there's some sort of reason this all happened. I believe there's some sort of reason that I'm still alive while I've seen so many people die."
Ellie pondered this. Everything happens for a reason. The words sent shivers down her spine. But, maybe Grant was right. Maybe David had been right. Maybe there was some reason for all of this, but in light of the Salt Lake City fallout, she couldn't comprehend what it could be. "Mystery to me," she said simply.
Grant nodded. "Still workin' on it myself."
They finished their lunch and Grant instructed that Ellie gather some hay from the other room to refill the feed troughs. She turned and headed to the storage room where the hay was piled. Her mind was racing with thoughts of meaning and purpose, and as she reached to pull the pitchfork from the wall, her absent-mindedness caused it to slip from her grasp and the sharp edge of a tine caught her right elbow.
She yelped in pain and looked down to see a tear in her sleeve and a gash that was already seeping with blood. "Ow! Shit!"
She heard Grant grunt in disapproval from the room and then call, "What'd you do this time?"
She examined the wound. It was bleeding a fair amount, too much to just shrug off. "I, uh… ouch… cut myself on the damn pitchfork."
Grant's footsteps on the floorboards hearkened his entrance to the room. "Let me see." He took her elbow in his hands and inspected the wound. He pulled her in front of the window to get a better look in the light. "I'll grab a bandage from the room. Take a seat on the stool here," he said as he slid one over to her. Ellie complied.
He returned a moment later with a bottle of alcohol and a bandage. He set the supplies down and knelt in front of Ellie. "Alright, give me your arm."
Before Ellie had time to react, Grant was rolling up her right sleeve. She noticed too late to pull away. The black fabric receded as he rolled it up, finally revealing the scarred tissue and small white bumps around the bite wound. Her eyes grew wide with dread as she saw Grant's gaze fall on the bite mark. When it registered, he stumbled backward in shock.
"Grant-"
"Sweet Jesus…."
"Grant, it's okay… I'm not-"
"D-D-Don't move!" he pulled his pistol from its holster, hands visibly shaking, and raised it in her direction. "Don't you dare m-m-move!"
He kept the gun trained on her as he slowly backed out of the room and shut the door. Ellie heard the deadbolt clank into place.
"Well… fuck."
AFTERMATH: PART II CONTINUES
WITH CHAPTER 8