Joel meets her eyes, his gaze steadfast and unsurprised. It flickers briefly to her end of the couch.
"Sit down." The clear lilt of his southern accent is the only way she can tell he's nervous.
She follows his instructions, hauling a pillow into her lap, crushing it to her torso. She thinks she can feel her heart pounding in the tips of her fingers. She squeezes the pillow like she's trying to cut off her blood circulation.
Joel doesn't ask her if she's sure. He doesn't warn her that there's no going back. This is the only way. He knows it. She knows it.
He's done protecting her from it–the truth. Unabashed. Here. Now.
One night, somewhere between Jackson and Colorado, Ellie sits under the stars with a big expectant grin on her face. Her eyes peer over Will Livingston's book, searching for signs of weakness on Joel's face through the light of the fire.
"Aha!" she shouts and points when she sees it in the form of him clamping his lips shut tightly. "You're totally trying not to laugh, you asshole!"
"It wasn't funny," he deadpans. "Not even a little bit."
But she's sure the light in his eyes isn't coming just from the fire. "Oh, come on, man, you're definitely smiling with your eyes right now."
And bingo – she's rewarded with an actual not-from-his-eyes smile. She gleams triumphantly.
"I ain't smiling at the joke," he insists.
"So what the hell are you smiling at? Callus?"
He looks up at the horse tied to the tree behind her, and Ellie thinks he somehow looks different than he did a couple days ago. Which is dumb because nothing much has changed from then until now. Not unless you count them finding Joel's brother, Joel trying to pass her off to said brother like cargo, or The Fight.
Ellie prefers not to think about any of it. Besides, she knows Joel's at least a little sorry because he's taught her how to shoot the rifle since then, and he let her build a snowman today and didn't complain when she named it Joel.
"No. At the other wild animal I'm draggin' along with me."
Ellie's smile grows wider. "Hey, this is my mission. I'm dragging you with me."
She scoots in his direction, pretending it's the fire she wants to be nearer to. His confession gives her the now-familiar urge to do something stupid like hug him. But she and Joel don't hug. Ever. Even though sometimes, when he lets her ride in front and hold Callus's reigns, she carefully relaxes her weight into him, and he never says anything about it. And when she slacks off for a bit and he holds the reigns for her from behind, that's sort of like a hug she guesses.
"Hey, Joel?"
"Hm?"
"If you could live one day over again – like, any day in your life – what would it be?"
She's obviously not expecting a specific answer. (How could she? It's not like she knows very much about his life before she met him however-many-months-ago.)
But she definitely doesn't see it coming, the way he clears his throat and looks into the fire like he can see something she can't. The way he says, "Won a raffle once—they were like ways to make money. Bunch o' people buy tickets for cheap to win some big prize and-"
"I know what a raffle is, Joel."
"Right. Well. I won one for a weekend at a cabin at Lake Austin. Could've sold it, made a bit of extra cash. Work was a bitch at the time. Always was, really. Hard to take time off, 'specially when people are depending on ya. But it was a real hot summer that year, and…and Sarah was gettin' bored at home, and I never would've been able to afford it otherwise.
"So Tommy and I packed up the truck and we drove down, the three of us. It was nice. Real nice. Lots to do, good food, plenty of other kids around too."
Ellie is frozen in place, staring at him as she listens. If she moves an inch, she thinks whatever spell he's been put under will break and this moment, this glimpse into who he was, will disappear just as swiftly as it came.
Sarah.
Her name in his voice rings in her ears over and over.
Sarah, who had not existed to her before three nights ago, when Maria casually let it slip. Sarah was Joel's daughter.
Sarah, who Ellie had tried to bring up when Joel announced he was shipping her off with Tommy. I'm not her, you know.
Sarah, who the mere mention of had been enough to make Joel visibly flinch backwards. Don't.
And now here he is. Talking about her. To Ellie.
Joel, who had broken something inside her when he delivered his final punch. You're not my daughter. And I sure as hell ain't your dad.
Ellie wants to ask him more. She wants to know everything about Sarah and him and Tommy and the life they had. But she knows better now, and she takes what he offers like it's a fragile thing. Holds it close to her heart and promises not to forget it.
"Hey, I said day. Not weekend. That's cheating, man." (And if her voice comes out a little shaky, they both pretend not to notice.)
But Joel's reminiscent gaze turns sad. "Actually, I got a call that night. There was a mishap at the jobsite, and they needed me to… Anyway, we packed up the next morning and left a couple o' hours early. So it was one day. One good day." He clears his throat. "What about you?"
"Me?"
"Mhm. If you could live one day over again."
Ellie pretends to mull it over in her brain. She shrugs and hopes he doesn't think it's sad how sincere she is when she says, "Today was a pretty good day. I'd do today again."
Something shifts in his expression. She can't tell exactly what. But it makes her feel all at once vulnerable and safe.
"Yeah, kiddo. Today was a really good day."
A few moments pass.
"Now, c'mon. Bedtime."
She draws out a groan even though she really is tired from their day of travelling. Joel sighs and gets up, unrolling her sleeping bag for her and gesturing for her to get in. Playing her role of stubborn, untired teenager, Ellie drags her feet and throws herself down with a sigh.
Joel plays his role well too and ignores her kicking and sighing, waiting for her to settle before zipping her in and instructing her, "Sleep."
One sigh later, Ellie closes her eyes. (And if she's still awake when she feels Joel carefully brush through the strands of hair at the top of her head, they both pretend not to notice.)
He begins right where her memory goes hazy.
"That smoke bomb got me good. Couldn't see, could hardly hear. But I heard you. You were screamin' bloody murder." His eyes fall closed, his face gets pinched, as if he could hear her even now. "Worst sound I ever heard. I was tryin' to get to ya, Ellie, but I–I couldn't. There were too many of 'em. One had me pinned down, one had a gun in my face. And one of 'em knocked me out."
His eyes reopen. He looks right at her.
"Woke up on a hospital bed. First thing I think: I can't see you. Last year of my life, I wake up, I see you there on my right. This time I see what I think's blood, but before I could even figure out what it was, where I was, how to find you, I hear Marlene. She let me know we made it. That her people didn't know who we were when they ambushed us.
"That was all irrelevant to me. I asked her where you were. She told me you were okay. Not hurt. Not even a scratch, that's what she said. Don't worry. But I worry. Told her so. And I asked her again, but she kept talkin.' 'Bout things I didn't care about. I couldn't tell ya what it was. Wasn't important. I kept askin' her, she kept bullshitting. Till finally she told me she couldn't take me to see you."
Joel's voice drops even lower than it already was, and he keeps recounting what happened four years ago as easily as if it had happened yesterday. Ellie wonders if he gets nightmares about it. She used to think he never lost any sleep over it, the way he acted anything but regretful. Now she's not so sure.
"She said you were being prepped for surgery." He shakes his head, angry still. "I didn't understand. I thought I was takin' you to get some blood tests done. I thought maybe an MRI, if that sorta technology was still possible. I never even imagined…" He sounds so pained it makes Ellie physically hurt. Her throat clogs up, and she digs her nails into her hands, forcing herself to stay focused.
"She explained their theory to me. That your mother gave birth to you while she was Infected but before she turned. So you were born with…somethin' or the other that tricks cordyceps into thinking you're already Infected… I think. That's what makes you immune, Ellie."
My mom gave birth to me right before she turned.
It's not the wildest theory she's ever thought of, but that knowledge clicks something into place that makes her breathe a little easier, if for just a second.
Then Joel continues.
"They wanted to…take 'em out. Whatever it was in your brain tricking the cordyceps. Take 'em out, make more, give 'em to people. Have a cure. Brain surgery. Murder. Same damn thing. They were gonna kill you for their cure. I…" he chuckles. Dark and humorless. "I told them to find someone else. I told her to take me to you. I begged her to take me to you."
Joel's voice thins, his eyes go glassy, and Ellie is sure he's only partly here with her. Part of him is there, in that hospital, going through it all over again. If Ellie's voice could work, she thinks she might tell him to stop. But she can hardly breathe, much less make a sound.
"But she wouldn't listen. She just kept talking. More nonsense. Trying to tell me that she didn't have a choice, that she understood 'cause of some promise she made to your mother. But she…she didn't. If she did… No. She didn't understand.
"She… she handed them your switchblade. Told me I could have it, to remember you by I guess. Then told her people to take me out to the highway and leave me there. To kill me if I tried anything. Easy as that.
"I let 'em walk me down the staircase. Just two of them. Two flights, I think. That was as far as I got. It was easy, to take them out. Killed one, tried to question the other. He wouldn't budge so I killed him too. I took their ammo, I took your knife." Joel takes the gulp of air Ellie is incapable of breathing. "Then I killed the rest of 'em."
"Ellie, look."
She twists her head up and to the right, seeking him out. "What?"
"Not at me. Up there."
He points and her gaze follows, up, up, to… "Oh shit," she breathes. "Look, another one!"
Any remnants of sleep or haziness get replaced with excitement and awe. Shooting stars. It's been months since they've seen any. It shouldn't be possible, she thinks, that something so fucking incredible can still occur. But the world goes on, she supposes.
Joel nudges her through his sleeping bag, only inches away from hers. (Turns out, after watching Joel get stabbed, stitching him up herself, sleeping next to his slowly deteriorating body, and getting kidnapped by evil cannibals who try to eat her, then hacking their leader's evil brain to literal bite-sized pieces, Ellie doesn't sleep so well anymore. At all. But she at least sleeps marginally better when Joel is within arm's reach.)
"Make a wish," he reminds her.
She thinks about it all again. She thinks of Riley, of Tess, of Henry and Sam. She's been thinking of them a lot lately. She thinks of how close she came to death. She thinks of how close Joel came. Of his blood spilling through her fingers, how it took days to get rid of all of it.
"I wish we find the Fireflies soon. Get this all over with."
He stares at her incomprehensibly. "You can't say your wish out loud."
She thinks of the last time they saw a shooting star, how she said, all excited, Make a wish, Joel.
How he said, I wish you'd go to sleep already.
How she'd said back, You can't say your wish out loud!
"'S okay," she assures him. She turns her eyes back to him. "I believe in you."
He considers that, an earnest look on his face. "No. Believe in us. We only made it this far cause we did it together."
His words seep into her bloodstream, keep her heart beating.
I do. She wants him to know that.
"I believe in us more than the stars."
"Good." She feels his hand squeeze hers. "We'll get there. I promise."
"I found you on the pediatrics floor. Took a while, but I found the room eventually. Saw you through the one-way mirror outside. You were… You looked dead. Lying there, in that hospital gown, on the table. One doctor and a couple nurses. They were about to… if I was a little later, I don't…"
He catches himself rambling. Pauses to inhale shakily.
"I walked in. I told them to let you go. Doctor wouldn't, so I shot him. After that, the nurses listened. They unhooked you and they stayed the hell outta my way. I picked you up and walked right out. No one followed. Either they were dead or knew they would be if they did. Took the elevator down to the parking lot. Figured… well, they said they had truck batteries, didn't they? Figured they had more than just the battery.
"And they did. I saw it soon as I walked out. A car. A working one. But Marlene… she was waiting for us down there. Tried to talk me out of it. Again.
"She was desperate. So was I. So I shot her. Then I got you in the car."
At long last, Ellie breathes. No, Ellie gasps. She wants to cry but she can't. She wants to scream but she can't.
"That's not all, Ellie." For once, he sounds apologetic.
She wants it to stop.
This is the only way.
"What else?"
"She was still alive. She asked me to let her go."
Ellie shakes her head. No.
"But I couldn't."
"No." She doesn't even know she says it out loud.
"She would've come looking for you. I made sure she didn't."
Marlene. Her mother's best friend. A single tear falls.
There is nothing but ragged silence for a long time.
"That's everything."
This is what you asked for.
"Ellie. Look at me."
Her head shakes. Hard. She can't. Not yet.
"Ellie."
"I can't." Her voice sounds rough and desperate, serious and pleading. She wonders if he sounded something like this when he was asking Marlene to see her.
"I need you to understand one more thing. Before you make any decisions."
"What?" she demands, forcing her eyes up to his.
She's not prepared for the blazing fire she sees behind them.
"I would do it all again."
She stares at the floor again, says, "I know," and hears him release breath.
"Good."
Time passes.
"I need to go."
She sees him nod from the corner of her eyes. He doesn't move as she stands. He doesn't say another word. He lets her go.
For once in her life, Ellie welcomes the bitterness of the cold. Knowing he won't come after her, she stands in front of Joel's house and waits for the snow to numb her entire body.
She's not sure how long she's there. Long enough that childlike curiosity pokes at her, asking her if her legs even still work, or if they've frozen into the ground.
She finds that one out soon enough, when Dina's voice startles her backwards.
"Ellie? Oh my god, Ellie, what are you doing out here, it's freezi—what's wrong?"
Because she doesn't know what the hell else she's supposed to do, Ellie lifts her hands to her face and discovers that, oh shit, she's crying. Also, her fingers are literally turning blue.
"Wh- I- Nothing."
Dina lifts a lazy eyebrow. "I was looking for you. You weren't in your room."
Ellie pushes her hands into her pockets and fists the fabric. "Sorry. I was at Joel's."
"Did you two get into an argument?" Dina's eyes, the only warm thing in this cold, pass back and forth between Ellie's face and Joel's house. "Did he say something?"
Ellie nearly laughs. Kickstarts her feet to move towards her room. "Uh, no," is all she can think to say. "It's f-"
"If you say it's fine, Ellie, I swear to god…"
"Okay. It's not fine." Ellie walks past her, praying she won't follow. (Of course, she does.) "But it will be." Not something she necessarily believes, but what she knows Dina would like to hear.
"Hey." Dina grabs her arm, forces her to spin around and face her, and she looks so beautiful with snow balancing on the edge of her eyelashes that it takes Ellie's breath away again. "You can talk to me, Ellie," she tries.
I can't.
Her lips won't form the words, but her eyes must say something, because Dina's hands slide up to cup her face, and her fingers brush the tops of her cheekbones. "Fine. Don't talk if you don't want to talk. But I'm here, okay? Screw everyone else. Screw Joel. I can kick his ass for you whenever you want."
The joke, however well-intentioned, doesn't land the way Dina intends it to. Ellie smiles at her sadly. Her hands come around Dina's and move them slowly from her face, back to her side.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Dina."
Ellie walks away from her too.
Sleep is not even worth attempting. Ellie draws; she writes; she replays Joel's story over and over in her mind. She listens to the one record she owns.
Oh, Daddy. You know you make me cry.
How can you love me?
I don't understand why.
The first time Ellie falls asleep after Silverlake, she's so tired, so truly bone-fucking-deep exhausted, she sleeps for over ten hours, and doesn't dream for a second of it.
The second time she's not so lucky.
David visits her dreams, whispering in her ear how special she is, how lucky he would be if she were his partner. He tells her he's going to chop her into tiny little pieces. He tells her Joel is already dead.
And she believes it. She can see him lying on that mattress, moments away from death. But this time he's awake. Awake and telling her to leave, leave, Ellie, leave.
His blood spills over her palms, and when she looks down, her switchblade is both in her hand and in his stomach.
"No," she mumbles. "Noohmygodwhathaveidone. I'm sorry, Joel." She takes the knife out and blood spurts everywhere. She watches the color bleed from his face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
She wakes up thrashing and apologizing and fumbling right into someone's arms. She's sure she screams, and she kicks, and it lands, and it's not until she hears his familiar grunt of pain that she recognizes who she hits.
Her vision clears, and Joel is there, alive, reaching for her, alive.
"I'm sorry," she whispers desperately. She grapples for the collar of his jacket and holds on like his life depends on it. "I'm so, so sorry."
And then she's in the crook of his neck and he's rocking her and shhhing her and running his hand down her back and murmuring. "It's okay, sweet girl, I'm okay; we're okay. I've got you, I'm here. I'm here."
The record shuts off for the second, maybe third, time tonight. A yawn wrangles itself from Ellie's throat, hurting her jaw. She allows herself to rest her head on her desk; her hand resets the needle.
I know there's nothing to say
Someone has taken my place
When times go bad
When times go rough…
She doesn't remember falling asleep or going to her bed, but she wakes up on a mattress with a gasp. Her eyes take a while to adjust and—where is she?
Still gasping, she tries to piece it together. The ceiling is yellow and crumbling. The walls don't look in much better condition. And…why does it hurt to look anywhere else? Why is she still gasping?
Only then does her brain register the pain, brilliant and suddenly all-encompassing. Ellie tilts her chin down.
Her eyes start swimming in tears, from the pain or what she's seeing, she doesn't know.
She's on an old, decaying mattress. A plaid green blanket is thrown over half her body. And on her right side, underneath her ribs, a knife sticks out.
"I'm sorry," Joel cries as his hands tremble around the hilt. He looks wrecked. "I'm sorry, Ellie. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
It doesn't count as breaking in if nothing is locked. Or if, technically, the room is supposed to be hers. The creeping-around-and-coming-in-through-the-window thing only makes her feel partly guilty.
She winces a little when the it clicks shut, but it's way too cold to keep open, and it's not like it's that loud anyway. She closes the door too, once she's inside. Too risky to wander around the entire house. Besides, this is the room she most wants to see anyway.
After Ellie made her room the garage, Joel converted this one into his own workshop. Where he makes things that other people can't snoop around and try to claim for themselves or ask for one of their own.
A lot of it is familiar, but Ellie's eyes are drawn immediately to the butterfly hanging on the wall. Her heart softens as she walks towards it.
Don't look, she can hear her fifteen-year-old self command Joel.
Why the hell can't I look?
I don't know, it's a surprise.
I built it.
Yeah, well I'm painting it.
And then later, after she's sketched in the details: Hey, Joel, what was Sarah's favorite color?
After a moment's deliberation: Changed every week, honestly. Girl liked a lot of color.
Huh. Cool.
It's beautiful, Ellie, he'll tell her later when he's looking at the world's most colorful butterfly. Thank you.
Think she woulda liked it?
She'd've loved it, he whispers, lips brushing across her hairline.
Ellie reaches out and plucks it off the wall. The paint is faded from the sunlight. Less vibrant but still colorful.
Not for the first time in her life, Ellie wonders what Sarah would do if she were in Ellie's shoes.
Flighty little thing, Tommy had said two days ago. Never mad at her dad for more than a couple hours at a time.
She wonders what she would say to Ellie, knowing what she's put Joel through the last two years. Would she be angry at her? Would she understand? Would she be glad, would she want Ellie to keep staying away from him?
She imagines an annoyed high-pitched voice scolding her. You're doing this all wrong.
The door swings open and Ellie spins on her heel so fast, only practiced reflexes stop the butterfly from crashing to the ground. Joel stands feet away pointing a gun at her.
"Christ, Ellie." He lowers his arm and places the gun on his desk. "You scared me."
Seeing as there's no denying anything, all she mutters is, "I tried to be quiet."
Then his eyes fall to the butterfly in her hands. An uneasy stillness keeps them both prisoner, unable to speak, unable to move. He's the first to break free.
"Bad dream?"
She doesn't know how he knows, but it fills her with such relief. Such gratitude. She nods.
"Yeah, me too."
He resigns over to a workbench, bending to sit with a sigh. Ellie sits at his feet, the way she used to, Before.
"I think I'm starting to understand." The words take her several minutes to get out, but then they're out, and there's nothing she can do about it but stare at her twisting hands in her lap.
He doesn't ask her to elaborate on that like she expects him to. Instead he asks, tentatively, "Think you could tell me how it happened from your end?"
More relief. More gratitude. She's not sure if she was about to say she forgives him. That she understands the crippling fear of having his life in her hands, the sheer desperation of being willing to do anything to just keep him breathing. She's not sure she's ready for that.
This is marginally easier.
"Not nearly as exciting as your version," she shrugs. "I didn't pass out from the smoke bomb. You took the brunt of that. But I was still useless. They disarmed me, kept two guys on me at all times. I think they were deciding whether they were going to kill us. You, at least. Sooo, I panicked and made a wild guess. I asked them if they were the Fireflies. Caught them off guard. They seemed guilty enough. So then I showed them."
"You showed-"
The anger emanates from behind her in tidal waves. "I was pretty sure it was them!" Her back straightens in her defense.
"Pretty sure," he mumbles under his breath. "Ellie. Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"
"No, man, I had no fucking clue."
"Jesus Christ."
"Well, whatever, it worked. I showed them the bite, and everything changed, like, instantly. They kept their distance for one, and they started being all nice to me and stuff. I still told them all to fuck off, that I wouldn't do or say shit till you woke up. But then Marlene came in the room and I thought…" she heaves a breath. "I trusted her.
"She seemed so… happy to see me. But also shocked? Like she was seeing a ghost. I thought it was because she'd assumed I was dead. And then she told me she wanted to run some tests, that they were really confident they could make a cure. I wanted to wait for you, but – she said after they confirmed our identities that she ordered them to get you checked out by one of the nurses. And that you were a little worse for wear so they gave you some stuff that would keep you knocked out for a few hours. It made sense. She even let me see you from outside the room. I didn't – I didn't ask any questions. Then she told me that the tests wouldn't take long and they wouldn't hurt. That they were ready whenever I was. And if I went right then, I'd be able to see you when I woke up.
"And she was right. I woke up and there you were."
By the time she's done her shoulders are slumped inwards again, her fingers tied into complicated knots. She can still feel it right now. How stupidly ready she was. She doesn't want to turn around and see whatever look rests on Joel's face. There's so much more to say between them, she knows that. But today's been so much and she's just… tired.
Luckily for her, Joel can read her like a book; he doesn't say a word, even though she's sure he has a few in mind. And when Ellie stretches her arm out to grab his guitar and passes it back to him, he takes it without question.
Relief. Gratitude.
Love.
He starts strumming that Fleetwood Mac song he played for her a couple nights ago. The one not on the album that she's been trying her best to commit to memory. He doesn't sing, but the melody is enough to lull her into a sense of security.
With the hesitancy of a wild animal being offered food for the first time, Ellie leans her head to the right until it collides with the side of Joel's leg.
The memory of his voice sings to her. Her eyes flutter closed.
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
A/N: Hi guys :)
I thought I'd be too lazy to write a note here but I just wanted to say thank you guys so much for reading and for all the positive feedback, it means so much to my little heart :')
Also - as both reader and writer, I love when certain things are left up to reader interpretation. When the author trusts the reader enough to piece little things together and come to their own conclusions for how/why something happens instead of explicitly explaining/analyzing their own scenes in the text. That being said, I am not a professional author, and while I tried my best, I have no idea if I'm pulling that off well enough with all the flashbacks and dream sequences and everything else leading up to Ellie's "I think I'm starting to understand." I hope it didn't seem too sudden or out of the blue! But if it did please let me know so I can fix that.
And if anyone wants to discuss that or anything else about this fic or where it's going, or honestly anything/everything the last of us related, i'm on tumblr cncermoon and will talk for hours and hours. (seriously, my irls are getting sick of it)
But okay that's all. again, THANK YOU for reading, please let me know what u think. until next time xoxoxoxox