A/N: Okay. I have to preface this chapter with a short reminder. I guess this is a... justification of sorts. This is a fan fiction of The Last of Us, and as such, it takes place in that world, and that world is a God-forsaken place. I know we all love the fluff and tender moments, but the fact remains that what's left of the world is better suited to monsters than men most of the time. As Tommy said after they arrived at the dam the first time, "that's the world we live in." There's a chance I'll lose some fans or followers after this chapter, and I can live with that. I know people want a happy ending, but... okay, I'm not going to spoil anything further, just read this. I'm prepared for the scathing reviews.

Oh, and if you really want to weep, put the song All Gone (Alone) from the soundtrack on repeat as you read.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED

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

CHAPTER 19

SUFFERING

An unending ringing was the first sensation that returned, followed immediately by the pain. The back of his head erupted with a blossom of sharp pangs from where he had been struck, but he quickly realized that it wasn't the only source of pain. His ribs and sides ached as if they had been kicked repeatedly by heavy, vengeful boots. The skin of his face felt tight, swollen, and tender.

He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to open the entire way. There was a blackness clawing at the edges of his vision, spurred on by the pain. The room was dark and formless. There were vague, blurred shapes moving around before him, hazy silhouettes in the dying firelight.

Traces of sound began creeping across his battered eardrums, mere muffles at first, but slowly becoming words as the sense returned. The shapes were talking to each other in hushed voices. Joel strained his ears to eavesdrop, assuming they thought he was still unconscious.

"So, we've got them. What's the plan now, chief?" one of the shapes asked.

The shape who had been referred to as 'chief' looked over its shoulder at the side of the room opposite of where Joel sat, slumped against the wall.

"We force them to give us a way into town. That place is impenetrable if we can't breach the walls. We'll... convince these two to provide us with a... a Trojan horse, or something to that effect," Chief responded.

"What makes you think they'll comply?" the first shape asked.

Joel could practically hear the sinister grin that began splitting Chief's face as he spoke. "Oh... I can be a very persuasive man. Let's wake them up."

Joel's strength faded temporarily and his vision grew dim as he teetered on the brink of unconsciousness. He had almost slipped back into it when a cold splash jolted him awake.

"Wakey-wakey, motherfucker!" one of the shapes taunted as Joel sputtered and coughed, trying to shake the water from his eyes.

He lifted his head just in time to see a balled fist on a collision course with his face. He went to block the blow, but realized his hands had been bound behind his back. The impact sent bright branching steaks across his vision and a stream of blood flying from his mouth, spattering onto the wall of the cabin. The pain was immense and tangible as it spread across his cheek and jaw. He thought back to the two of David's men he had tortured last winter. He wasn't fond of how the tables had turned.

He shook his head to clear it and spat a mouthful of blood on the floor. "Hit me all you want, you piece of shit. I ain't tellin' you nothin'."

His tone of defiance grated against Chief's mood. "Oh, I think you'll rethink your attitude before too long."

The recognizable sound of a flesh-on-flesh impact met his ears again, but he felt nothing. He then heard a weak cry from the other side of the room. He knew that voice all too well. He lifted his head and strained to see around the shapes that were quickly sharpening into figures of men before him. Chief stepped aside with a sickening degree of formality, holding out his arm in presentation, practically begging for Joel to behold the spectacle.

The scene that met his eyes made his heart stop beating in his chest. A man was regaining his balance after having thrown a blow. He stood and moved off to one side. Lakyn sat slumped against the opposite wall, hands behind her back, head hung forward, a wall of black hair shielding her face. For that moment, Joel wished he could spare himself the sight of the condition she was in, but Chief wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He strode confidently across the room, grabbed a handful of her hair, and threw her head back and held it against the log wall of the cabin. Joel cringed at the impact of her skull against the wood.

He seethed with rage at the sight of her face. Her lovely, fair skin was pocked with cuts and bruises. Blood was trickling freely from her nose, running down her chin and on to her shirt. Her eyes were filled with agony, sorrow, and anger, but beyond all of these, fear. Tears began streaming parallel paths down her face, following the blood's lead.

Joel struggled to climb to his feet, desiring nothing more than to be at her side, but getting to his feet with his hands tied behind his back proved difficult. A swift, firm punch to the kidney from one of the bandits knocked him back to his knees. He tried to rise again, grunting through the pain, only to be met with an elbow to the face. He toppled back onto his knees, blinking hard and shaking his head to maintain consciousness. Blood began raining from his nose to the exposed planks of the floor, each drop landing with a soft, audible patter.

Chief let Lakyn's head slouch forward again before crossing back over to Joel. He knelt so that they were at eye level and roughly grabbed Joel's hair, pulling his head back and forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Pretty girl you've got over there." Chief's words were saturated with overconfidence and rolled off his tongue as smoothly as water off of a serpent's back. He relished and lingered on every syllable, as if gaining sustenance from every carefully chosen piece of diction. "Shame she has to die because of your..." his focus seemed to drift has he searched for the appropriate word, "obstinance." He looked down at him with such unabashed smugness that Joel would have killed him for that alone if his hands hadn't been tied.

"I have to admit," Chief continued, rising to pace the room, "you folks from the town have been a thorn in my side for too damn long. After you all foiled our plans at the dam, we were grasping at straws. Report came back with the few survivors that some black-haired sniperess had taken out most of our crew. We were heading back to the town for one last, desperate attempt when we came across this nice, cozy little cabin here," he held out his arms, gesturing to the room around them. "Smoke from the chimney. Flickering light in the windows. Imagine our surprise when we found your little lady over there. The veritable cherry on top of the sundae. Paulson here recognized her immediately."

The man who must have been Paulson walked over and viciously backhanded Lakyn across the face. "Fuckin' bitch!" Lakyn tried to stifle her whimper after the impact.

Joel's anger boiled over and he thrashed in his bonds, letting out a bellow of rage. His thrashing failed to loosen the bonds on his wrists, only serving to tire him out. A few more punches from the bandits sent him back to his slumped over position.

"You fuckers are gonna pay for every finger you lay on her!" he spat venomously, ignoring the increasing flow of blood from his mouth and nostrils.

Paulson moved to strike her again before Chief halted his blow. "That's enough, Paulson. I know you're just itching to put her down, but there's a matter of negotiation to consider first-"

"I ain't negotiatin' shit," Joel retorted.

Chief ignored his malfeasance and continued his theatrical pacing. "My men and I need a way into town. Your electrified fence and watchful guards make that... difficult. So here's the deal I'm going to offer you: provide us a safe way into town, and I let her live." He raised a hand to cut off Paulson's protest. "You refuse to negotiate, and I put a bullet between those lovely blue eyes of hers." The sincerity in his voice was disconcerting. "What's it going to be?"

Lakyn's soft voice limped across the room to him. "Joel, don't do it. Ellie... think of El-" Her words were cut short by the butt of Paulson's gun. The strike knocked onto her side. Unable to get back up with her hands tied, she buried a sob into the floorboards.

"Paulson, I said that's enough!" Chief shouted. "Do I need to tell you to wait outside?"

"No sir," Paulson responded.

The pain in Joel's body was nothing compared to the torture of watching her being beaten before his eyes. She deserved so much better than to be crumpled in a bloody, broken heap. His anger burned within him, and he found a new target for its wrath: himself. This was all his fault. He invited her out here. He put her in harm's way. She didn't deserve to be beaten to death on account of him.

"So," Chief resumed, turning his attention back to Joel, "what's it going to be? Give me a bit of information, and she lives. Defy me, and you can struggle all you want, but you can't save her."

The last four words echoed thunderously through his head. You can't save her. He flinched as his resolve fractured. His stern glare had faltered as he fought off the demons in his head. You can't save her. The words became a malicious taunt, and every person in the room aside from Lakyn turned to face him, joining in the chanting chorus. Toothy grins spread across the faces of the bandits as they mocked and cantillated. Joel saw a familiar shape moving between them. The remnants of firelight illuminated its face. It was her again, bolstering the chants with her hollow eyes and the bullet hole still ever-present on her forehead. Her tone was especially accusatory. You can't save her.

"No... no, no, no..." he whispered, shaking his head to clear it. The apparition disintegrated. The room was as it had been a moment before, with Chief still pacing expectantly, a look of mild intrigue on his face. Lakyn looked up at Joel from her side, an expression of utter helplessness on her face. Her eyes met his and pleaded with him to stay silent.

Chief's patience was apparently running rather thin. His pacing grew more hurried and flustered until he finally lost his nerve in light of Joel's stubborn silence. "Alright. I don't think you're taking me seriously. Let's try something a little more... direct."

"No, wait," Joel muttered, but it was too late.

Chief walked over to where Lakyn was lying on the ground, reached down and grasped a handful of black hair, and forcefully dragged her to Joel's side of the room. Her howls of pain brought tears to Joel's eyes, and his hatred for these men burned with white-hot fury. Chief pulled her up onto her knees before Joel.

Now that she was right in front of him, he had a better view of the shape she was in. It made his stomach turn. Everything below her nose was caked in coagulating blood. The were several severe gashes streaked across her face. Bruises were already forming on her cheeks and neck. The look in her eyes was hopeless and defeated, resigned to her fate. It killed Joel to look into them.

Chief clutched the hair on the back of her head, pulling it back and leveling his pistol against her temple. "How can I get into town?" he asked calmly.

"I swear to God, if you-"

Joel's words were cut off by a savage blow to the side of her head. It rocked to the side on impact and he saw her eyes roll back, sliding on the edge of consciousness.

"You goddamn son of a bitch!" Joel roared.

"How can I get into town?" he repeated, straining to keep the words as even as the first time. He ground the pistol more firmly into her temple.

"Joel," she whimpered. "Don't. Don't worry about me... you have to keep Ellie safe..." She winced as Chief tightened his grip on her hair.

"Lakyn, I'm gonna get us out of this. It's all gonna be alright, baby... I promise." He hated lying to her, but he felt the comfort it might offer would be worth it. She nodded and gave a sad, weak smile.

Chief's eyes darted between them. "Well, isn't this touching. You have a chance to live up to your word here, Joel. Everything can be alright. Just tell me what I need to know."

She stole a glance back up at him and shook her head, the movement so subtle it was nearly imperceptible. Joel's mind wandered to Ellie, no doubt sleeping comfortably on the mattress in his room. He couldn't risk her safety by opening Jackson to these animals. But at the same time, he couldn't live with himself if he let Lakyn die before his eyes. He was in the quintessential lose-lose situation. Even if he told them a way into town, it was practically guaranteed that the bandits would kill both of them anyway. This could be the end of the line. After all of these years, after all of the fighting to stay alive and have something to live for, and after finding those somethings in Ellie and Lakyn. It could all unravel in the blink of an eye.

Chief had apparently grown tired of Joel's ruminations. He pulled the gun from her temple and brought the butt of the grip down on the back of Lakyn's head, sending her sprawling forward onto Joel's lap. He wanted to hold her, to soothe her, but his hands were bound fast and, try as he might, he couldn't free them. He leaned over her in an attempt to rest his cheek on her back. She wept into him, cries of pain, despair, and terror. It wasn't fair. It wasn't supposed to end this way.

"I wouldn't try my patience if I were in your position," Chief said. He brought Lakyn back to her knees and drew a knife from a sheath on his belt. "Maybe you aren't realizing the… gravity of the situation."

Chief tightened his grip on the knife and drove its point into Lakyn's thigh, burying it to the hilt. She screamed in agony. The wail cut to Joel's bones and he felt the stab pierce into his heart. Chief twisted the knife, and she spasmed in pain, shrieking with abandon.

"Stop! Stop it, you fuckin' son of a bitch! Don't do this!" Joel shouted.

"How can I get into town?" he asked, lifting his voice above the cacophony of Lakyn's wails.

"Let her go!"

"Can't do that, Joel. She's killed too many of my men to let her go for free. I'll repeat myself one last time: how can I get into town? Tell me, and her suffering ends."

Images flashed before Joel's eyes. The secret entrance through the walls that he and Ellie had stumbled across. The bandits sneaking in, killing everyone as they slept. The image of Tommy and Maria with their throats cut. Ellie lying in a pool of blood, motionless and alone. And finally, Lakyn lying still on the floor of the cabin, a hole in her forehead and nothing behind her piercing blue eyes. Every option led to death. But it would take time for the bandits to get to town. Perhaps Joel could turn the tables before then. Perhaps he could save Lakyn.

"Alright! Alright, you bastard, I'll tell you. Just let her go!" Joel relented.

Chief gave a sickly smile. "That's more like it." He eased his grip on Lakyn and one of the bandits dragged her back to the middle of the room, keeping her just close enough to use as leverage if Joel had a change of heart.

"There's… there's a gap in one of the walls. It's hidden-"

"Which wall?"

"East wall. It's hidden behind an overturned bus. It's very easy to miss unless you know what you're lookin' for," Joel said. He leaned to look past Chief and at Lakyn. "It's gonna be alright, Lakyn, I swear."

Chief ignored he consolations. "What about the guards? There's towers along the east wall."

Joel turned his attention back to the man before him. "They switch shifts at daybreak. They're less observant during changeover. You should be able to sneak up to the wall without being seen."

Chief drew in a deep, calculated breath while studying Joel's face. He was being sincere. The leverage had proven effective. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "See? Was that so hard?"

"Now you let her go. Do whatever you want with me but you let her go," Joel pleaded.

Chief turned and nodded to Paulson. Paulson walked behind Lakyn, lifted his pistol to the back of her head, and pulled the trigger.

AFTERMATH: PART II CONCLUDES

WITH CHAPTER 20