The next two weeks were spent laying low with Tess trying somewhat successfully to keep Joel in bed, and not allow his stubbornness to cause him to do anything that might reopen his wound and subject them to more horrors than they had already endured. He was seemingly on purpose quite the typical, difficult patient, and after the first week of laying on his back, he would wordlessly move to the couch for some of the day, until Tess's worried glances made him feel guilty enough to take his dinner in bed propped up with their meager set of pillows.
"How are we on supplies," Joel asked on the evening of the fourteenth day, as she handed him a steaming bowl of spaghetti-o's. "Neither of us have left this apartment for two weeks. Got to be low on some things. And how the fuck is no one looking for us by now?"
"Well," Tess replied, sitting down on her side of the bed with her own bowl. "First question, we certainly are in need of a few things. I'm going to head out and pick them up in the morning. Secondly, you are on medical leave and Matt listed me as your caretaker on the order. So that put both of us off any work rosters for a month. No one will bother us for a while."
Joel absently tapped the edge of the bowl with his spoon. "Not my skill, Tess, saying pleasantries and all that shit, but tryna make an exception, for you. So thanks - you know - for all you've done. To make this, well, somewhat easy to deal with."
She glanced at him evenly, tilting her head to one side, and then she focused her dark eyes on her bowl of soup. "You saved my life, I saved yours. Beyond that it's not a fucking competition. We are even. Besides, you never stop going no matter what happens. You needed the break."
"But you had to sacrifice you're fucking self-dignity to try to save me, Tess. That's a hell of a lot more than stopping a fistfight for you. How are we even?" That passionate anger rose up in Joel's lean face, and although he did not raise his voice, she could tell he was still internally raging at the steps she had taken to secure his private recovery. "And it's a hell of a lot more than I would have ever asked from you. You should never have -" His voice trailed off, and he shook his head wordlessly, letting his anger overcome his ability to formulate words into a clear sentence.
"We are even because I said so. And you're welcome," Tess grunted, scooping up the last of her noodles into the spoon, eyeing him over the edge of her bowl.
"Don't you act like that shit didn't affect you," Joel said in a low voice. "Because Tess, I know -"
"You know?" Tess exclaimed, setting aside her dish, her face drawn in true frustration, eyebrows raised. "You know? Know what, Joel? Know what it's like to be stared at like a piece of fucking meat every time you try to work a job? You know what it's like to have your ass ogled every time you bend over to lift a fucking dead body out of a truck, or dump another bucket of ashes? You know what it's like to have to keep eyes in the back of your head just to keep from getting fucking attacked on your way home because the guys have spent all day internalizing their rages and are in need of something to release that energy on? What do you know about all that, Joel? Do you know what that's really like?"
Joel's mouth opened and closed, a slight panic crossing his lined face at the monster he had unleashed unwittingly in Tess, trying to process the hurt and anger that tumbled endlessly out of her lips and imagine what terrible things she had seen or experienced to create such a volatile torrent flow from such a typically calm creature. He found himself hating himself for not being there to save her, even though he had only know her mere weeks. But that was a Joel thing, new to the post-pandemic world, this Joel that beat himself up for every failure that he heaped upon his shoulders. And wordlessly, he added Tess to the very long list.
She lurched unsteadily to his side, kneeling at the side of the bed, those soulful eyes looking up at him with a desperation so deep and painful he would have given his right arm to make it go away. "You don't fucking know anything, Joel. This world is fucked up, and some of us are more fucked up than others. You get a free pass. You get to just walk around like a ruler of the kingdom, all macho and in charge, with no one eyeing your backside to decide whether it turns them on or not, or following you like a hunter looking for that one second where you are vulnerable and not watching."
Joel's mouth opened to say something, his eyes begging her to just stop talking so he could help her, but she forged ahead, her anger not yet appeased. "No, you fucking shut up Joel and listen. I have to watch my back. My life depends on it. You can barter with fists, and fighting like a mule, and having the gift of the upper hand - most of the time. There's not much a guy will take from a woman in barter, and I did what I had to with Matt because it was the only. Fucking. Way. That he would take me serious. I knew what I was doing, I knew what it would cost me, and I did what had to be done."
Joel gazed softly down at her tired, lined face for a moment, not missing the way her eyes glinted with unshed tears, or the slight tremble of her lips- lips that only recently had begun losing their bruised shade of purple. In a pre-infection world, she would have been beautiful. Here, in the yellow shadows of his tiny apartment, long after time and loss had already lined her face with worry and pain and fear, and she had saved his life all alone, adding more lines to the map already made. She had lost family too. He knew that had driven her choices. And it was touching. But he wasn't going to let her use that as a license to forgo all self preservation. He knew what happened when a person did that. Everyone loses.
And he wasn't going to let that happen, most of all.
Not when he was just getting used to not being fucking alone anymore.
He reached out a rough, weak hand and laid it atop hers.
"I'm gonna train you."
"On - what," Tess asked, clearly confused at the change of conversation, and also a little in awe of the Texas drawl and the way he enunciated the words. The declaration was enigmatic, but that was typical Joel, but also kind, protective, and tender. There was something about that tenderness that touched something deep inside of her, something lost, something shoved away, and her brow furrowed as she waited for his explanation.
Joel patted her hand and picked up his bowl, slurping noodles. He swallowed them dramatically and gave her one of his rare crooked smiles.
"A little help here, Texas," Tess blurted out, suddenly aware of how weird it must look, him half dressed, eating noodles, and her on her knees next to the bed like a child waiting to be told a bedtime story. She shoved herself to her feet, trying to decide whether to feel frustrated at this enigmatic man, or annoyed at his sense of humor.
"Help with what?" He asked, in mock confusion, glancing around the room, brow furrowed.
Tess took a deep breath, a threatening sound "So help me-"
"Alright, alright," Joel exclaimed, holding up his hands in surrender. "Gonna teach you how to barter with fists the way a man does."
Tess's eyebrows soared. "Nothing wrong with my fists," she snorted, tumbling into her chair at the foot of his bed again.
"Can't barter with them, though, as you said. Can work on that." Joel tipped the bowl upwards and emptied it of the last of the broth and shook his head. "Mighty good soup, Tess."
"Thanks. Campbell's. Man was a fucking genius."
"So was his chef."
Tess frowned at him. "Don't."
Joel held up his hands again. "Sorry. Just - tryin' to make you smile."
"Forgive me if I don't feel like smiling."
There was a slight hurt that crossed Joel's face, and a little stab of pain went through Tess's stomach. He had been so good to her, letting her crash here at his place, taking responsibility for her in front of all those guys at the pit, doing his damnest to keep her safe. What could it hurt to be a little human?
"Don't feel sorry for me, Joel," she said softly, propping on foot on the edge of the bed frame. "You and me, we both know smuggling life ain't pretty. And the past ain't any better. We aren't good people. We all got shit in the past. Just got to keep looking forward, trying to survive. That's all there is now. Emotions, caring, whatever this is -" she waved a hand back and forth between them "- this kind of stuff can - and will - get you killed."
"The way we've been going about it, you damned right it will," Joel replied passionately, a stubborn set to his jaw. "Caring about people, that's not the risk. It's how you go about protectin' them that's the issue."
Tess sighed. The man was insufferable.
"Joel, either I am finally going insane or you are talking in fucking riddles and I am too tired to decipher them. Give your girl a break "
"My girl?" His thick eyebrows rose up, wrinkling his lined forehead, his slack jaw flexing comically, looking like he was searching for the right emotion to respond to her not-thoroughly-thought-out statement.
"Joel-" Tess sighed, dropping her head in her hand, leaning forward, her elbows resting against the mattress. "Come on, man."
"Nuh-huh," He interrupted, wagging a pointer finger at her. He patted the bed next to him. "You said you were my girl." His keen eyes, no longer muddled with fever, swept across her tired frame, the weariness visible in her slumped shoulders, and his face melted into something rare and soft. "Hey, Tess. Come on, get in bed. Sleep. No strings attached, all that shit, you know the drill. It's late. Can't have you falling asleep over there, hunched over like a beetle. You'll fall off that chair and break your fucking face."
Tess raised a tired frown to meet his expectant gaze, and sighed again, shoving herself to her feet, and shrugging off her jacket. Maybe he would ignore her misspoken statement about his girl if she complied. She fell into bed next to him and found the space at his side that she fit so well into, as if it was meant for her. His arm settled comfortably across her shoulders.
"Now, what I was tryin' to say, is that we should start going on missions together."
Tess jerked her head upward, set to protest, but he laid a finger on her lips and she found she couldn't resist the puppy dog eyes that he was looking down at her with. "Tess, when that Ryan fucker was hauling my ass back here, I couldn't help thinking the whole way because, fuck, what else was I supposed to do? And I was thinking that if you had been there, you mighta warned me of that knife in that guy's hand, because all I could think about in the moment was the cards he was refusing to give me, and the damn work it cost me to get the fucking oxys in the first place. You'da been another set of eyes. And when you are wandering about in those shitty alleyways, or working at the pit, I would watch your back."
It felt warm and safe, next to him like this, Tess had to admit. And the idea that someone, anyone other than herself, would be along for the ride on missions, was also a somewhat comforting thought. She would have a protector. And it had been years since she'd had one of those. She would sure return the favor.
"At what cost?" she asked as soon as he removed his quieting finger from her lips.
He furrowed his brow again, an expression she was finding more endearing every time he did it. "Why none, of course. I mean, unless you let me get killed, then it's the cost of your bodyguard and your ass is on it's own again."
"And me," she asked quickly, urgently, frowning up at him. "What if I get killed?"
"Then I lost me the best damn future fist fighter the QZ has ever seen," he drawled and she playfully punched him.
He grunted in pain, eyes slamming shut, wincing, and pulling away from her and she sat up quickly, his arm still draped loosely around her neck. "Oh, sorry, Joel, I'm sorry, I didn't think! Are you okay?"
He opened one eye, and then smirked. "Gotcha."
Indignation filled her expression at the trick he had played and she instinctively pulled back a fist to punch him for real, exclaiming "Fist fighter, yeah? I'll show you a fucking fist fight!"
"Wait, wait!" Joel crumpled defensively into a ball, pointing at his left side. "Actually injured, remember?"
Tess paused and looked down at his bandaged side and flashbacks of stitching up his injury, his cries of pain, and the helpless feeling of waiting for Matt's two minutes of victory to end all flooded back into her mind and stole the comedic fury of the moments before. Her hand fell limply at her side, and she flopped away from him sideways, leaning her back against the wall at the top of the bed, drawing her knees protectively to her chest.
"Yeah, Texas, I remember."
An awkward silence followed as they both tried to think through what the fuck had just happened. This romping, this joking, this fun...this didn't happen anymore in a post apocalyptic world. This was the world of survive, or die, of kill or be killed.
This kind of simple joy just didn't exist anymore.
Except here, apparently, in a tiny apartment, in the middle of a QZ, in the middle of hell.
No strings attached. Nothing asked of each other, except somebody made dinner every night and they kept each other warm at night.
It was an easy trade.
They couldn't afford to cross any further lines. It just didn't pay to get emotionally connected.
But what could it hurt at this point? Life was fucked up anyway, and who cared what alliances were made in the shadows. Survival is all that mattered and together...oh, together they could sure do that.
"So what do you think?" He asked softly, unable to see her expression now, as they sat side by side. He picked at a thread on the blanket, carefully avoiding her gaze that he could feel was fixed on him.
She was quiet for a moment, and he knew it was because he was asking a lot. He was asking her to take on something bigger than herself, something they would shoulder together. The last time she had done that, she had lost the people that shouldered it with her. Her child, her husband.
Fuck, he knew how that felt.
So it was music to his ears, when she softly replied, "I think I would like that."
He left the apartment in the middle of the night, careful to not wake her. The poor thing slept like a rock, even though he nearly fell over a chair on his way to the door. That was the only thing about alliances. Suddenly other people are moving shit in your house that you already had memorized. He figured it was a small price to pay.
The curfew was on, that much was clear by the strobe lights and constant announcements over the loudspeaker. But this was his world, this playing with fire, sticking to the shadows. It kept him sharp, kept him even, kept him sane. For once he was controlling his environment, not it dictating his.
Tonight, he had one mission, and one alone. To get back the cards that his Tess's dignity had been worth, and return it to her. That was the only way he could give restitution for her sacrifice. Sure, it wasn't like she hadn't given everything to Matt, but Joel was a man's man, and a protector. The idea that she had even let that foul fiend touch her for a second to spare his life was a debt he did not want on his conscience. It made an anger boil inside of his chest, a crawling on his skin that he could not shake.
Some men were snakes.
And Matt was one of them.
Sure, he understood why she had done it. But dammit if he wasn't going to teach her to be tough, and give her something else to fight with.
He sneaked through the dark shadows, ears keeping tabs on the moving jeeps of soldiers touring the streets that were supposed to be empty, his eyes focused on one target. The medical tent.
He flattened himself against the wall, waiting until a jeep went past, then ducked into the tent. Matt was alone, categorizing something on a clipboard. Joel was at his throat in a half a second, pinning the man against his broad chest, forearm keeping his chin tilted up, making eye contact with a very angry Joel.
"Hello Matt."
"Hey, Miller," the man wheezed, his throat moving against Joel's arm. "What's up, man, you're up and around again, that's great."
"I'm up," Joel replied gruffly. "Came to talk. You start yelling and I'm gonna crush your throat. Got it?" Joel experimentally squeezed his arm tighter to his chest, and the medical soldier's eyes bulged in panic. His hands flailed around as he wheezed, "Got it, got it!"
Those hands that had been all over his Tess.
Joel grumbled deep in his throat, a sound akin to that of a geyser before it explodes.
And explode it did.
It wasn't a fair fight, that was sure. But it was a quick one. One second, Matt was trapped against a man he had never intended to cross, the next he was sprawled across bundles of army supplies, nursing a probably fractured jaw. Blood trickled down his chin, and he gasped, "Please, please, Miller, just tell me what you want, take anything, anything you want!"
Joel stood there, hands on his hips, blood trickling down his knuckles. His chin jutted out grimly, and he nodded once. "I want the 500 cards that Ryan paid you for manhandling Tess."
"Didn't manhandle her," Matt exclaimed thickly, through clenched teeth. "Didn't hurt her."
"You should never have touched her in the first place, you greedy pig!" Joel nearly shouted, taking two dangerous steps forward. "Now, cards, or I'm gonna give you two minutes of the same 'heavy petting' as she called it, and it's gonna be some fucking real manhandling..."
Matt shook his head quickly, one hand shoving into his jacket pocket. Joel immediately drew his gun, leveling it at the younger man.
"Whatever you're doing, Matt, bring it out fucking slow and easy. Soldiers are a dime a dozen and no one's gonna know I was here, so don't go all kamikaze and shit. It's all gonna go sideways, no question about it, and you'll get no revenge out of the stupid shit."
Matt shook his head, slowly pulling out his hand. "Just - was just gonna get the fucking cards, man."
Joel considered, eyeing the papers the man pulled out of his pocket and nodded once. "Throw them over here. Quick, no shit."
Matt did so, and Joel knelt to pick them up, keeping his eyes on the medic. He counted the papers quickly, and nodded once. "These are going back to that woman you stole dignity from, man. And you ever touch her again, look at her, or even speak her name again, then it's Joel Miller manhandling time and then curtains for you, fucker. Got it?"
The medic nodded wildly, eager for Joel to just go the fuck away, but Joel wasn't done. "Last thing, Matt." His tone changed to one of false condescending concern, and he grasped the man's uniform, pulling him face to face with Joel. "You say one thing about what has happened here, to anyone, Ryan, soldiers, FEDRA, fucking Fireflies, ANYONE, and there will be pieces of your anatomy missing in the middle of the night and you will not be a happy man." His voice was sickly sweet and produced the intended expression of disgust and panic from his prey. "Now, we clear?"
"Clear."
Joel nodded once. "Good." And as quietly as he had come, he strode away into the night, leaving a terrified medic behind him and the promise of hell to pay at the next false move.