Disclaimer: I don't own HBO's "The Last of Us" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: This was inspired by one of the-gaymer-guy's prompts. The original was Ellie wandering into Jackson on her own and Frank wanting to adopt her. In my version, Joel drops Ellie with Frank and Bill in 1x03, before Frank makes the decision to end his life. And they decide to become a family.
Warnings: palliative care, long term illness, caretaking, emotional baggage, found family, angst, drama, romance, emotional hurt/comfort, period typical homophobia.
(Emotional) Baggage
Chapter One
The girl spent days waiting for Joel to come back.
Frank distracted her with afternoons at the canvas. Then, as the days turned to weeks, with something approaching structured lessons. Like they were a school for wayward orphans or some horseshit. History. Culture. Biology. Movies. Medicine. Trying to explain Disney and why people had been so obsessed with a god damn theme park. Anything and everything she would sit through. Never math though. Frank hated math.
Sometimes it was just mornings spent watching her bounce around in the fresh air. Following the border of the perimeter fence with a stick, apparently asking to get electrocuted. He checked in every so often, and there'd always be a smile on Frank's face. A real one. Not the crap he slapped on for his benefit these days.
It was that more than Joel's dead eyes and haunting lack of Tess beside him that made him agree to play babysitter. Frank didn't have a lot to smile about these days. And something about that twitchy-eyed girl had snapped Frank's attention immediately.
"Reminds me of my sister's kids," Frank mused a few days after Joel had shown them his back. Something about finding the fireflies and needing time figure 'all this out.' Whatever that meant. Meanwhile, the girl roamed through the backyard. Prodding at the generator with the blunt end of a stick.
His mouth twitched. Tamping down on the urge to holler at her about it. He didn't like kids. But then, his list of likes was admittedly small. So, he just nodded and kept his mouth shut.
Joel would be back.
Maybe.
Oh, hell.
"I want a gun."
He looked up, watching as the girl plunked herself across from him at the work bench. Joining him in the garage despite their tenuous toleration of each other so far.
He went back to cleaning the disassembled Mossberg. Staying silent as her feet tap-tap-tapped against the metal rungs. Twitchy. Nervous. Bored.
"I could help protect this place," she offered, after he did nothing to fill the pause. "...And Frank."
He didn't look up from oiling the loading spring. Content to make the moment as difficult as possible so she would eventually cuss him out and stomp off. Which she did. But, all things considered, he appreciated the hustle.
The world made little girls pretty damn shrewd these days.
"I want a gun. I know you've got loads. Come ooooon, man."
She asked almost every day.
And he said jack shit every single time.
It stayed that way until the day she joined him in the shed. Watching as he butchered the wild pig he'd shot not long after Joel made her their problem.
"I want to learn how to shoot a gun," she told him firmly. Feet solidly on the floor and blessedly still for once as she slid into the seat across him.
It was about damn time.
He set down the bloody knife and pulled off his gloves. Silent save for the creaks in the floor and the click of his joints as he covered the carcass. There was a veiled look on her face that he didn't want to know the history on. In fact, he didn't want to look at her at all. But instead of leaving, he paused at the door, looked her right in the eye, and nodded.
She followed him to the bunker like an excited puppy. Waiting until she was down the ladder and he was fully committed to start fucking yammering again.
"My name is Ellie by the way."
He looked at her, head cocked enough to irritate the crick in his neck as she aimed at the target he'd set up in the back of the clothing boutique.
"I know," he returned simply. Because he did.
He'd been there, arguing with Joel about him leaving her, even for a few days. He'd said a bunch of shit. Things a little girl shouldn't have to hear. But he'd never been good at regulating when he was pissed off. He was used to making it someone else's problem. Usually Frank's.
She'd given him the finger, so he figured it made them square.
"You haven't said it," she pointed out. Squinting down the sight until he wacked her with a willow switch. Nudging her elbow with the butt end until she remembered the form he'd taught her. "Ow! Shit! ...It's been months, dude. Besides, I call you by your name."
He blinked.
Months?
Had it really been that long?
Goddammit.
A/N: Thank you for reading. – There will be one more chapter, stay tuned for next week.