Two knocks.
It's all she can muster. Two knocks and they nearly send her into cardiac arrest. Two breaths in and she has to force her feet to stay where they are. Two seconds pass and then too many more and where is he?
A very, very large part of Ellie wants to turn around and pretend this never happened. She could. She could run back to Dina, tell her she changed her mind, spend the rest of the day exploring this new…whatever they are to each other now. Joel would be none the wiser. But…
I'd like to try.
And she has to–she has to do this. She knocks again. More seconds pass, and irritation starts to claw its way up her throat. She finally decides to extend the olive branch – or whatever the fuck people say – and he's, what, taking a nap? A shower? He got back from patrol hours ago. He should be at home, sitting on the porch, pretending he's not waiting to make sure she got back from her own rotation in one piece. Instead he's somewhere else not answering his goddamn door, and Ellie's about to-
"Ellie?"
Oh shit.
Even with her back to him, she can see the way he pauses, one foot on the stairs, one hand on the rail. Her heart skips like a stone over a river, eventually sinking down deep into the soles of her feet.
She turns around, and there he is, one foot on the stairs, one hand on the rail, and the same stab of pain she's been feeling at the sight of him for the last two years strikes her again.
"Sorry, I, uh, I assumed you'd be at home. If you're busy…"
He clears his throat. "I'm not busy. Maria wanted Seth and I to talk it out, and I didn't feel like arguin' with her about it much."
"Yeah, I had to do that this morning, too."
"How'd that go?"
Ellie shrugs. "It was whatever."
Joel nods like he understands, then presses his lips together. Ellie knows he wants to say something. And she knows he's scared. Sees the caution in his eyes. It makes something else in Ellie crack. Everytime she thinks it can't possibly get harder than it already is, she learns how much of her still misses him. She can see the time they've lost in the grays in his hair and the lines on his face.
You're fixing that, she reminds herself before she can bolt for real this time. You're ready now.
(...Are you?)
"I, um, I came because I…I wanted to ask you something."
God, could she sound any more awkward and pathetic? She's supposed to be the one in control here.
"Okay." He gestures towards the chairs on the porch. "Should we sit?"
"Oh," Ellie chuckles. "No, it's not–it's not a serious question. I just wanted to–God, this is stupid." She shoves a couple strands of hair behind her ear like they personally wronged her and just spits it out. "I just wanted to ask if you'd want to come watch a movie later. After dinner."
If Ellie was anything other than nervous to the point of shitting her pants, she might laugh at the way Joel's entire expression slackens with shock. To his credit, he recovers quickly, and folds his arms across his chest, leaning some of his weight against the rail. It's such a Joel stance that Ellie finds herself mapping out how she would sketch it, tracing the details of him with her eyes.
"Well that depends. What movie are we watchin?'"
At that, a real smile splits Ellie's face. "Curtis and Viper II."
Actual joy fills up Joel's eyes, and for a second, Ellie is 14 and she just made Joel laugh at one of her jokes for the very first time, and the sound fills her with a sense of pride she didn't even know she was capable of feeling.
She feels it again, watching Joel raise both his hands in defeat, eyes still smiling. "You don't even gotta ask."
Ellie nods once, firmly. "Good."
"I'll bring the popcorn?"
"You'll bring a lot of it."
She starts down the stairs, careful not to brush past him as she goes.
"I'll do ya one better," he calls. "Stole a jar of pickles from the kitchen the other day. Haven't even gotten to opening it yet. You interested?"
"Shut up. No fucking shit I'm interested!"
"Alright then. I'll see ya tonight."
Ellie feels lighter than she has in years. "Later, Joel."
It's like a constant state of whiplash. Ellie switches from relief to excitement to dread and a million things in between.
She skips dinner altogether. Doesn't think she'd be able to stomach anything if she tried. Instead she spends her time making sure her room is semi-clean, pacing up and down, sitting at her desk and drawing Joel leaning against his porch rail.
When the knock finally comes, she's mainly glad this part of it is over. Ellie closes her sketchbook, shoves it in her drawer, then opens the door.
Dina stands on the other side.
"Oh, thank god." Ellie slumps against the doorframe for a second, then quickly straightens back up. "Uh, hey."
Dina's head tilts to the side. "I can't tell if you sound disappointed or relieved."
A weak laugh escapes Ellie. "I honestly couldn't tell you either."
"You weren't at dinner."
"Yeah, uh, no appetite."
Dina's eyes soften. "You have to eat, Ellie."
"I know that. I was just… I'll have something later. Popcorn. And pickles."
She's not sure exactly why she says it other than she just desperately wants somebody to understand. Nobody could, of course. Except maybe Tommy, but he isn't an option to her right now, and the way Dina regards her so gently, Ellie thinks maybe she doesn't have to understand to help.
"You invited Joel over," she guesses.
"Yeah."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Ellie shifts uncomfortably. "What's there to talk about?"
"How you feel about it," Dina says through a stern look. "You two haven't exactly been on the best of terms."
Thanks to me.
No. Thanks to him.
Which one of them is to blame for the way things are right now?
Ellie feels so much, and it seems unfair to unload that all on Dina. Dina, the most wonderful person to ever exist. Dina, who is one of two reasons Ellie's kept her sanity since coming back from Salt Lake the second time. Dina, who likes her. Dina, who knows her too well for someone who doesn't really know her at all.
"I feel fine," Ellie shrugs. "It's just Joel. It's not like I'm scared of him or anything."
It's the wrong thing to say. Dina's eyes dim a little, and she takes a small step back, and Ellie realizes with a start that she never invited her in. Ellie always invites her in.
"Right. Well, guess I'll talk to you tomorrow then."
"Wait," Ellie steps forward in an abrupt panic, reaching for Dina's fingers. And by the grace of whatever god sits above them, they twirl around Ellie's, tugging her closer, giving her the okay to dip her head down and kiss her. Kiss Dina. The most wonderful person to ever exist. Ellie still hasn't wrapped her head around it, but she lets herself bask in the pure goodness of it.
"We'll talk tomorrow," says Ellie when she pulls back, feeling more sure of herself than she did five minutes ago.
The spark returns to Dina's eyes, and she leans up to drop a kiss right on top of Ellie's cheekbone. "And other stuff," she whispers in her ear.
Ellie is left momentarily breathless, watching her best friend fall back on her heels, dark eyebrows raised suggestively.
The corners of Ellie's mouth turn up. "And other stuff," she agrees.
Then Dina walks away, and Ellie is so entranced watching her go it takes several seconds for her to process it when she almost bumps straight into Joel turning the corner.
Some part of her brain notes that they're exchanging awkward niceties, but most of her mind is screaming at her that she wasn't prepared for this. She's imagined fifteen different ways of opening her door and greeting Joel, but never him catching her standing shivering outside her bedroom door, open and vulnerable from her interaction with Dina.
So used to this default setting, she finds herself feeling (again) angry at him for something as stupid as coming when she's least prepared for him. But then she sees the jar of carefully packaged pickles hanging from his fingertips, the hopeful expression on his face.
I'd like to try.
Ellie sucks in a long breath, holds it for five seconds, releases it. She smiles at him. "Took you long enough."
Even though Joel fixes up the garage for her so she has her own space, her own roof, he still makes it clear that the house is hers too.
"You come in and out whenever you want, take whatever you need," he tells her on the night she moves into her room. (They call it her room, as if it isn't completely separate from the house.)
But he also sets the ground rules. "Back in the day, they used to say long as you're livin' under my roof, you abide by my rules. Now I know you technically got your own roof now, but-"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it."
"No, listen. You come to the kitchen every morning for breakfast, you abide by curfew, you keep in here tidy, you come to me if you need anything."
"So eat when you say eat, sleep when you say sleep. Not much different from being out on the road."
"Ellie."
"Kidding."
"I mean. I'm leavin' the door unlocked. No matter what time it is…"
"I know where to find you." She looks him in the eyes when she says it, needing him to see that she understands he's talking about her nightmares. About the fact that they haven't slept more than ten feet apart in, Jesus, over a year.
"Okay, kiddo." He sounds wistful, like he wants to say more, but he walks away all the same. "I'll see you in the mornin?' Don't make me have to come wake you."
"Bright and early," Ellie salutes.
When he steps forward and brushes a kiss along her hairline, Ellie's facade falls. "Do you really think this'll work?" she whispers. "Us staying here, in one place, for…ever?"
"I don't know. I hope so. But we'll figure it out. Together."
It's so much harder than she thought it would be.
It's just – she just misses him so fucking much. And she looks at him and she can see that he misses her too. And then she blinks and she remembers, and it's been two years, and the shock of it really should have worn off by now.
But they do okay.
Sure, they sit on opposite ends of the couch. They might tiptoe around each other a little. Gone are the days when they sit squashed next to each other and toss popcorn when they get fake-annoyed. But they still joke. Ellie makes blatant commentary about the movie and Joel takes turns humming in agreement or disagreeing so vehemently they have to pause it to argue.
Ellie stuffs her face on popcorn and pickles and then downs a glass of water so quickly that droplets fall from the edges of her lips down her chin.
"Salty," she explains when she comes up for air.
"Next time don't eat so fast."
"Shut up and watch the movie."
By the time the credits roll, Ellie's almost forgotten that this isn't something they do regularly. (Not anymore.)
Joel sighs as he sinks back into the chair, stretching his arm out across the back of it. "Ten," he says, eyes flitting over to her.
Ellie rolls hers up to the ceiling then pans them back down to him flatly. "Six and a half."
"You're just trying to be difficult."
"Fine. Seven."
He shrugs. "All right, I'll take it."
An easy silence falls over them. Ellie's curled into a ball in her corner of the couch, and she suddenly wishes she was tucked into his side, wishes his fingers were gently sliding through her hair. Her throat starts to burn; her eyes close. He feels so far away. Like they're drifting apart, even now.
Joel makes a rough coughing sound. "I…I brought you somethin.'"
Ellie shifts up, resting her weight on her elbows as she shoots him a curious look. "You brought me something?"
"Two things actually. Picked 'em up on some rotations."
Sitting up completely and ignoring the way her pulse starts running faster, Ellie holds out her hand expectantly. "Well? Hand 'em over then."
He leans over the side of the couch to pull his backpack onto his lap, tugging it open. It seems…heavy. "Tommy and I decided we should finally clear the basement in that music shop. Found a Bloater and a couple Runners in there – nothin' we couldn't handle. We caused quite a bit o' damage gettin' rid of 'em, but this was one of the survivors."
And then he pulls out this janky box, and Ellie's confusion grows.
"You know what this is?" he asks, moving their now-empty popcorn bowl to the floor so he could set his gift on the seat between them.
Ellie studies it. It looks like a suitcase, with a handle and clasps, but inside…
"It's a record player," he fills in for her when she just continues to stare in awed silence. "'s what a lotta people used to use to listen to music back in the day."
Ellie's heard of them before, of course, but she's never seen one in real life. It looks like a toy. How does a thing like this play music? With a gentle reverence, Ellie runs her finger along its sides. There's not a speck of dust on it. The handle is a little rusty, but it looks like that's been polished too.
"I know you've got your walkman already," Joel continues to say. "But I couldn't find any tapes in good condition, and I thought you might like to listen to a record for a change. You don't need headphones for it or anything. Music'll just come out."
Ellie swallows hard. "I don't have any records," she says, her voice thick.
"You didn't think I'd bring you something you couldn't use, did you?"
And then he pulls out a record. An honest-to-god record. Ellie's eyes go completely round, her jaw dropping slightly open.
She reaches for it hesitantly. "It works? You've tried it?"
"I've tried it."
"Rumors," she whispers, running her hand along the faded album cover.
"It's a classic," he explains. "Really, really good. I think you'll like 'em."
With some effort, she looks up from the treasure in her hands and into his eyes. "Will you show me how it works?"
His eyes are the kindest they've ever been. "Course."
He teaches her the way he's taught her everything else: patiently, calmly, kindly. "Got that?" he'll ask every so often, waiting to see her nod before going on to the next step. "And there you go," he finishes with pride as the needle hits the edge of the disk and starts spinning. Ellie watches, mesmerized, as sound starts pouring out. She pauses it almost immediately.
"Joel, this is so fucking cool," she confides in him. "I don't even know what to say." She keeps it to herself that she knows exactly what mission he was talking about. Tommy had come back with a huge gash in his shoulder, and, panicked, Ellie had demanded he tell her everything that happened. Including whether or not Joel had been hurt. That was months ago. He's been holding onto this for months.
"You don't have to say anything. Just give it a listen and maybe let me know what you think."
"I will." It's a promise.
She picks it up carefully and rearranges things on her desk to make a space for it. She'll listen to it later, after he leaves. When she can sit in the dimness of her lamp and scratch her favorite lyrics into the lines of her sketchbook.
When she turns back around, Joel is standing, a little awkwardly, his hands in his pockets, eyes inspecting her room, lingering over every poster that wasn't there last time he was in here.
He's getting ready to leave, she notices with surprising dread.
Despite the conflicting emotions she's felt all night, she doesn't want it to end. Her eyes mimic his, trying to grasp for something to say, to stretch the moment out a little longer.
They land on her guitar.
"Do you think…" she begins before she's even sure she wants to ask. "Would you play something for me?"
She doesn't take her eyes off the guitar, but she's sure he's staring at it too when he answers. "Yeah, okay."
He moves first, picking it up from its place against the wall and carrying it over to her bed. She follows suit, sitting on the floor at his feet, dragging her knees up to her chest.
He takes a deep breath, positioning his fingers at the strings. "Any requests?"
"Something new."
He nods slowly. "All right. Think I got one."
A beautiful melody tumbles from the strings. Ellie holds her breath without realizing it.
I took my love, I took it down
I climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
'Til the landslide brought me down
Oh, mirror in the sky,
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Well, I've been afraid of changin'
Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too
At some point it hurts too much to watch him play, so she closes her eyes, and lets his voice wash over her. Lets the words burrow under her skin and set up camp.
It takes her a while to register it when he finishes.
"That one's from the same band, Fleetwood Mac. Remembered it after I picked up the album."
Ellie doesn't trust herself to speak. She wants to hear it again, but she thinks she might crumble.
"It's getting late," she whispers with a trembling voice.
"Ellie…"
"I told Dina I would stop by after the movie, and I don't want to keep her waiting," she insists, rushing to her feet.
"Okay. I've got a morning shift too, so s'pose I should…"
"I'll see you around." Ellie smiles tightly, hovering on restless feet several feet away from him.
His returning smile is sad, doesn't reach his eyes. "See you around."
Ellie doesn't breathe until the door is closed behind him.
The next two pages of Ellie's sketchbook get scribbled on so much the page is more black than white.
The stillness of remembering what you had and what you lost and what you had and what you lost…
Come down and save me again.
I know you don't believe that it's true – I never meant any harm to you.
How can I ever change things that I feel?
And I feel that when I'm with you, it's alright. I know it's right.
To you, I'll never be cold.
And I love you, I love you, I love you,
Damn your love. Damn your lies.
How can you love me? I don't understand why.
The next morning, Ellie finds Joel's door unlocked. She slips inside quietly, despite the fact she knows he's off on patrol. It's been years since she's been inside the house she used to call home. Not much has changed, and she decides not to linger over what has.
She leaves the piece of torn paper on the counter, right underneath his favorite coffee mug, with three words written on it.
I love it.
"Did you really come to work on your day off?"
"I'm not working." Ellie brushes Shimmer's mane with practiced gentleness. "I'm visiting."
"Yeah, okay," Jesse snorts, coming to stand beside Ellie, greeting Shimmer with his own caress.
"What about you? Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Nope. Got an evening shift today," he replies brightly. "Which leaves me the entire day to catch up with my very best friend."
He slings an arm around her shoulder; Ellie shrugs it off with a glare. "What do you want?"
"I want the inside scoop. What's going on with you and Dina, really?"
Ellie stiffens. "Why?"
"Cause I'm your best friend, that's why."
"Are you thinking about getting back together with her? Because I'm not interested in getting involved in whatever games you two play with each other."
"Hey, hey, relax, I told you. We broke up. For real this time."
"Uh huh."
"I mean it, Ellie." Ellie can't meet his gaze. "Look, Dina and I had fun together and all, but that's all it was. Fun and convenient. But we've both known for a while now that it wasn't gonna last. She bosses me around way too much."
Ellie makes another humming sound.
"I'm serious," Jesse goes on. "Town's gonna make a bigger fuss about this than I will. I promise."
Sighing, Ellie finally looks at him evenly. "You know I wouldn't… if I didn't really…"
"You have a way with words, you know that." Ellie gracefully shows off her middle finger. "Luckily," he barrels on, "I know you, and I know what you mean. And I know her. And I want you to know that I'm happy for you."
Ellie gets the very unnatural urge to hug Jesse. She manages to tamper it down to a small smile. "Well, we'll see how it goes," she says, hiding her marvel at the fact that Dina actually likes her and Jesse's actually okay with it.
Just then, Dina turns into the stables, stopping short when she spots Ellie and Jesse. Jesse greets her with an easy grin.
"Well, if it isn't the talk of the town," he provokes.
"It's a small town," says Dina dismissively, walking towards them. "Easy accomplishment."
"Especially when you create a scene at wholesome family events."
"Especially then." Dina winks at Ellie.
"Alright, well," Jesse claps his hands together once, "I'll leave you two alone. Should probably get some rest before my shift this evening anyway. Breakfast tomorrow?"
"Sure," pipes Dina.
Ellie groans.
"I will drag your ass out of bed if I have to," threatens Jesse. "Again."
Ellie hasn't been a morning person for a long time, but she feels enough gratitude for her friend that she makes it easy for him. "I'll try my best to tame my murderous impulses when you wake me."
"That's all I ask." And he's gone.
"So," Dina swings towards her once they're alone. "It's your day off. And I have two hours until I've gotta go help out at the kitchens."
"I'm listening."
"And I think I remember we promised to talk more today."
"And other stuff," Ellie nods gravely.
"Best get to it then."
Being with Dina is all at once terrifying and grounding. It feels right in a way little else does. Their legs mingle together under the sheets of Ellie's bed while Dina tells her stories of little importance. Because Ellie can, she kisses the small freckles across Dina's knuckles while she does. And up her arm. And along her collarbone.
Dina's breath hitches, and triumphant bells ring in Ellie's head. Her tongue slips out, tracing the path carved along by Dina's bone.
"Ellie…" she mumbles, like she's trying hard to stay focused. "I thought we were going to talk."
For a flash, Ellie thinks back to yesterday, during the blizzard, lying on that old couch with her after the most amazing moments of her life.
She remembers Dina's fingers tracing over the tattoo on her arm as she asked about it.
She remembers thinking it was so easy telling her the truth.
She remembers the way Dina scoffed and threw her arm away, the way it was so absurd she hadn't thought to believe her for a second.
Ellie doesn't feel like talking.
She presses deeper into Dina, pulling her into a kiss that leaves her gasping. "Do you really wanna talk right now?"
Dina's hands travel up her hips, over her sides, into her hair. "No."
When Joel cracks a forbidden smile at something, the talking mammoth on screen says, Ellie starts to laugh. Because Joel is laughing at a talking mammoth, and that's fucking hilarious. Then the talking mammoth's joke registers in her brain, and holy shit it is funny, so she laughs harder. Soon she's keeled over in giggles, laughing simultaneously at the ridiculous movie one of the kids suggested she watch and at Joel trying not to laugh, screwing his face up ridiculously.
He doesn't last long. Her hiccupping, childish laughs get him. He smiles – a real smile, wide and toothy. "It ain't that funny," he informs her. His voice is gruff as ever and his serious tone sends her into another fit.
"Jesus, kid," he mutters after a while, shaking his head and chuckling softly.
His eyes shine. He looks at her, and it's like he's saying I missed seeing you laugh like this.
And Ellie thinks I haven't in two years.
Ellie rates it a ten. Joel gives it a nine, saying he'd never be caught dead giving a movie about mammoths and sloths and squirrel-rats the same score as Curtis and Viper, but wanting to please her all the same.
Not tired in the slightest, she asks, "Should we watch another one?"
His eyebrows arch just slightly. "You want to?"
Ellie bites her lip. Logically, she knows this must be too much too soon. Going from no-contact to double feature movie nights is less like taking baby steps and more like soaring back to normal. She should hold back. She should give herself time to process, to decide what exactly her next moves should be. But does she want to?
"Yeah."
"Still got your secret stash?"
"Fucking duh."
She hops off the couch, going to retrieve her slowly growing assortment of movies she's found on patrol that she's kept for herself rather than hand them over to the community collection.
She looks through her options. Apollo 13 it is.
Joel isn't surprised in the slightest. Ellie settles herself back on her end of the couch as it begins, only this time she gets more comfortable, stretching her legs out across the couch. Not all the way – she still doesn't touch him – but it's something.
It's progress.
Rumors puts Ellie to sleep every night. Every night, it finds new ways to seep into the cracks of Ellie's heart.
I wish you all the love in the world. But most of all, I wish it from myself.
Break the silence. Damn the dark, damn the light.
She's not sure if it's helping stitch the fissures there or forcing them wide open.
Ellie thought she learned how much she loved Joel after he got stabbed in Colorado and she'd sat there, helpless, watching the life drain out of him. (Still, to this day, it's the most scared she's ever felt.)
But then they move to Jackson, and Joel finds a guitar, and he starts teaching her, and Ellie learns just how much more she can love him.
She'll never forget the way it felt the night he sang her to sleep in the living room, the way his voice slightly trembled, the way he told her that's the song he used to sing Sarah to sleep with, like it was a secret.
Dina, Jesse, and Ellie sit in a warped sort of circle, each of them heaving, the gulping breaths they take visible in the cold air. Dina leans back on her hands, letting her head loll back, her neck wonderfully exposed.
Jesse throws a half-formed snowball at her. "Don't you own a scarf? You're gonna get yourself sick."
"A scarf would've weighed me down."
"Can't argue with you there," concedes Jesse, fully collapsing on his back.
"Are we getting bad," asks Ellie slowly, her breaths finally coming more slowly, "or are they getting really good?"
"Neither," Jesse says stubbornly. "We had an off-day."
"They almost kicked our asses," Dina reminds him.
"They got lucky."
"It's not fair," Ellie suggests. "We have duties. Patrols and other stuff. They have nothing to do all day but have snowball fights. Work on their strategies and battle tactics."
"Battle tactics?" Jesse barks out a laugh.
"On the other hand, maybe we take this a little too seriously."
Ellie and Jesse give Dina identical sharp looks.
"That's exactly the sorta mentality that's gonna make sure we lose the next match."
"He's right."
"Thank you, Ellie."
"Guys, we're having snowball wars with a bunch of ten-year-olds."
"Exactly. I'm the best shot in town. You think I want a bunch of ten-year-olds lording it over my head that they beat me in a snowball fight?"
Dina stares at her. "The fact that you're completely serious should worry me."
Jesse lifts himself up onto his elbows to give her a knowing look. "Make that second best shot in town."
"Are you fucking kidding me? I could take you out with one ha-"
"Second to Joel, not me." He dashes some snow at her. "And mind your manners."
Ellie ignores the way Dina's gaze sharpens on Jesse, the way her body tenses as she becomes more aware, ready to pick up on any signals Ellie might send her. But Ellie just shrugs. "Fair enough. Speaking of which, he's probably back from his shift by now, and I wanna catch him before dinner." She gets to her feet, brushing remnants of snow off herself. "See you later?"
When she looks down, Dina and Jesse are exchanging weird glances.
Jesse's the one who says something. "So you and your old man are just…cool now?"
Ellie tries to keep herself from visibly squirming. The state of her and Joel's relationship is a topic she hardly wants to broach herself, much less with anyone else. Even if the anyone elses are Dina and Jesse.
She uses her boot to kick some snow in Jesse's face. "Don't see what it's got to do with you." She was planning on leaving it at that, but she catches the look on Dina's face and something in her gives. "But we're fine. And I gotta go."
Dina and Jesse wave her off half-heartedly. Ellie walks away, every step in her boot feeling heavier and heavier.
Ellie might not have been on talking terms with Joel for the better part of two years, but she thought she at least had some sort of idea what his patrol schedule looked like, if only to know how best to avoid him. But he's not at home, he's not at the stables, he's not at Tommy's.
Feeling more deflated with each place she checks, she heads towards the dining area. It's mostly empty, bare picnic tables strewn haphazardly, desperately in need of some rearranging. But behind the small group of teenagers, she spots a familiar figure hunching over a plate.
"Tommy!" She jogs over, sliding next to him on the bench facing outward, her back colliding with the table. "Hey. Have you seen Joel?"
Mid-chew, Tommy freezes, then brings a glass of water to his lips. He raises his eyebrows and his face morphs into a very annoying expression. Ellie sighs and rolls her eyes, waiting for him to get on with it.
"You feelin' alright?" he asks after drawing out a long ahhh sound and setting down the glass.
"Dandy. Joel?"
"This the same Joel you've refused to talk to for two years?"
Ellie's jaw clenches. Tommy and Jesse were cute from the same annoying, nosy, shameless cloth. But vague annoyance soon turns to heavy hesitation.
"Joel hasn't…said anything to you?"
"Should he have?"
"Uh…"
Tommy grins. "Just kiddin,' sweetheart. He's mentioned a thing or two about movie night with you. Probably could've guessed myself though. He's been in way too good of a mood lately. Was just curious whether you'd say anything to your dear old Uncle Tommy yourself."
"You're not my uncle," she reminds him with the tired tone of someone who's been through this line of conversation many, many times.
"Technicalities."
"Joel?"
"He switched shifts with Enrique today. Won't be back for another couple hours."
"Oh." Ellie slouches.
She didn't have a backup plan. So she blows out a breath, folds her arms, taps her legs, glances at the clock.
"Hours, you said?"
"Yup." Tommy pops the p, looking and sounding far too mischievous for Ellie's liking.
"Great."
Ellie's nails skitter over the bench.
"So," he starts conversationally. "You gonna tell me why you had a change o' heart?"
Tommy receives a look sharp enough to cut through air. They've gotten into more than a few heated discussions regarding Joel before, especially in the first year of their estrangement. The worst of which was when he'd looked Ellie in the eye and told her he agreed with Joel.
I'd have killed every last one of 'em too, Ellie. I'd do it today.
She'd taken it to mean he was on Joel's side, and she'd been mad at him, too, for a while. But for some reason, it's a lot easier to forgive Tommy than his brother.
It's easier to talk to him about Joel too. She knows the reason for that one: Tommy is the only person in the world who knows both her and Joel. Like, really knows them. And she trusts him. She knows he's never gone back to Joel to report when she'd cave and ask him not-so-subtle questions about how he was doing.
So she answers his question. "Got really tired of being angry at him. The Fireflies. Everything."
Tommy nods slowly. "So you're not? Angry anymore?"
Ellie falters.
"I'm figuring that out I guess."
"You feel ready?"
"To forgive him?"
"Sure. Or to let go of all that hurt."
"I…I think so."
Tommy lifts the glass to his lips again. "You oughta know."
Familiar, welcome anger surges through Ellie. "I'm trying, Tommy, I-"
"Hey, hey," he holds his hands up. "I know that. I'm proud of you for trying. I know it ain't easy. But, listen–you listening? For all you and Joel aren't biologically related, you sure got a hell of a lot in common. Sarah, she was a lot like me. Flighty little thing. Never mad at her dad for more than a couple hours at a time."
Ellie grits her teeth. "I bet her dad never did anything remotely-"
"Ellie, listen."
It's a testament to how much Ellie likes and respects Tommy that she shuts up and obeys.
"You and Joel, you hold onto things. You get hurt, you feel betrayed, you lose something, you get angry. And you keep feelin' all those things."
"And it's what kept us alive for a whole year!"
His gaze turns stern. Ellie bites her lips closed.
"I'm not sayin' it's a bad thing. I'm saying it's how you are. It's how you both are. Joel knows that. That's why he hasn't come knocking on your door looking for your forgiveness, no matter how bad he wants it. He understands your hurt and your anger and he'll let you feel it as long as you need to."
I know that, Ellie wants to snap at him. I know him just as well as you. As well as Sarah.
(...Do you?)
She lets him go on.
"So you take that grace he's given' you and you use it. Be mad if that's what you wanna be. If you're ready to let it all go, Ellie, I'll be just as happy as the both of you. But if you're not – all you're doin' is torturing him and yourself." The back of Ellie's throat burns. "I'm not trying to discourage you. I just want you to be sure. I've seen both of you hurt over this for way too long now. I don't want to see it get worse. I want this for you. But I want you to be sure. If you're gonna forgive him…you gotta really forgive him, Ellie, and you gotta let it go."
Ellie sees him that evening, on his chair on the porch, guitar resting in his lap so naturally you'd think it's one of his limbs.
How strange to think that Ellie used to be able to more easily picture a rifle in his hands than a guitar.
You gotta let it go.
And, god, she wants to. But she can still feel it. That ball of betrayal, right underneath her rib cage.
She walks away.
Joel's the one who finds her, two days later, sitting on the floor outside the library (a single room with messily-filled bookshelves). Her legs are tucked underneath her, and she rubs absentmindedly at her tattoo as she reads, lost in the book but not so much that she can't hear his footsteps approaching. Recognizes them without needing to look up.
"Hey, kiddo."
Ellie's chin lifts, accompanied by a soft smile. "Hey."
"Thought I might find you here."
"First try?"
"Second. Went to the stables first."
"Good guess."
He chuckles. "You doin' alright?"
"Yeah. Fine. You?"
"Yeah, I was… I was actually thinkin' maybe, if you're up to it, we could do the next movie night in the living room. You know, my couch is much comfier than yours, and my back ain't gonna last much longer."
It's fresh bait if she's ever seen it. The old man jokes are too easy to come up with. He's nervous. She wonders if he was ever this nervous with Sarah. (Probably not if what Tommy said is to be believed.)
And just like that, remnants of memories sprout up over her brain like cordyceps, battling for
complete control.
Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true.
I swear.
Making a vaccine would've killed you.
If you're gonna forgive him, you gotta really forgive him.
What you had and what you lost and what you had and what you lost.
I'll come back to Jackson. But we're done.
Damn your love. Damn your lies.
I would do it all over again.
I don't know if I could ever forgive you for that.
But I'd like to try.
I'd like to try.
She meets his eyes with new resolve.
"How's tonight sound?"
The movie plays on but Ellie couldn't tell you a single thing that's happened.
She's been doing what she did when he first lied to her: acting like it doesn't affect her, allowing herself to forget.
She's been doing what she did when she finally got the truth from him: isolating herself in her anger, refusing to see past the raging red.
Ellie can't pretend and she can't run away. She's tried both, and neither have worked.
She gets up. Pauses the movie. Takes a breath.
"Joel. I need you to tell me. Everything. I need to know everything."
A/N: P.S. I have no idea why I made Ellie a pickle stan. It just felt right