finally decided to update. I know. It's been a while, but here it is!
and, just so we're all on the same page, there will be no lemons. If that's what you're looking for, skip this chapter. There will also NEVER be a Elle/Joel/Jemma threesome, so whoever keeps asking me that on Tumblr, you've been warned.
in other words, I will be updating this next Friday, so be on the watch for that. :) thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy.
...
Joel had early morning watch, and Tommy came around seven to take over.
"Where are they headed?" Joel asked, pointing to a group of younger men. He recognized one of them as Sam, the same one he had gone with before. Jemma had hit him hard enough to break his nose, and it was now misshapen.
"Tracking a small herd of deer." Tommy glanced over to the group. "Hopefully they can bring something back this time."
Joel chuckled. "I'd go, but I'm not feeling up to it."
"Ain't nobody asking you to."
...
As soon as Joel opened the door, the smell of baking met his nose. As he walked through the hall, he could hear Jemma singing to herself. He walked into the kitchen.
She was wearing a silky green slip dress, and a matching robe over it. Her hair was piled on the top of her head, in a bun, and she was barefoot.
A tray of cookies sat on the counter. They were snickerdoodles, Joel's favorite kind. His mouth watered at the sight. He went to reach for one, but Jemma grabbed his hand before he could touch them.
"They're still hot. I wouldn't if I were you," she said. She returned to cleaning the dishes, and Joel came up behind her. She smelled like sandalwood and sugar, and he wanted to bury himself in the scent. He brushed a stray hair off of her neck.
"Are those for me?" He asked.
"I don't know, are you feeling lucky?" She teased, never turning from the sink.
He scoffed, and grabbed one of the tray. She didn't stop him, and he greedily ate it in one bite. The taste was superb, and the cookie practically melted in his mouth. He had forgotten how much he loved them, and ate another.
"These are amazing," he mumbled, as he stuffed a third into his mouth. "Thanks so much."
She turned to him. The sun shone through the window at her back, and he could see the silhouette of her body through her dress. He quickly looked away.
"Um," she had a confused look on her face.
"What?"
"You've got sugar in your mustache." She walked toward him. Joel ran a hand over his face, somewhat embarrassed.
Jemma smirked.
"Oh, stop, you little shit. Like you never get food in your hair." He said.
She said nothing, and kept looking at him. Her smirk slowly faded away. He stared back. The silence became unnerving, and Joel looked to the cookies.
"You still have sugar in your mustache," she said, and held out her hand towards his face. He leaned over, almost instinctively.
Instead, she kissed him full on the lips. He wasn't expecting it, and he almost leaned away. Joel kissed her back, and pulled her in, closer to his body. She pressed herself against him, and the feeling was electric.
Joel, without thinking, started to pull her dress up her legs. He stopped, suddenly, and took a step back.
"Where's Ellie?" He asked, his eyes darting to the hall. She was nowhere in sight, but he still felt uneasy.
"Relax," Jemma said, smugly. "She's getting ready for school."
"Go put some clothes on," he said, and it came out more sour than he meant. Jemma looked hurt, and he quickly clarified.
"We're gonna get out of here."
She smiled, and pranced off to her room. Joel turned his attention to the cookies.
...
They wandered away from the town, and Joel quickly recognized the path. It was the same way Ellie went, when she took off the year before. He blocked that out, and tried focusing on Jemma.
"Where are we going?" She asked, smiling.
"Uh," he looked forward. He could see a few houses on the horizon. "Just a little farther."
Jemma trudged ahead, dragging her feet through the deep snow. She started to head to the first house on the left. Joel caught up with her, and pulled her away.
"Not this one," he said, recalling all the dead men inside, rotting away. "I had in mind that one." Joel pointed to the next house ahead.
Her face lit up. "Race you!" She squealed.
They took off, Joel clearly taking the lead. The snow was over a foot and a half deep in some spots, and they moved very slowly. He had more luck than Jemma, who tripped, face first, in the snow.
"Mother fucker!" She yelled, picking herself up. She tried brushing the snow off her front, but stumbled back into the pile.
Joel waited for her at the front door. She started to unbutton her coat, and he tried for the doorknob. It was locked.
"Hold on," he muttered, and tried kicking it in.
"Let me do it," she said, and pushed him out of the way. She reached to the top of the door frame, and pulled a key from the top.
"Beginners luck."
Jemma rolled her eyes, and opened the door. They walked in, hesitantly, but it was apparent that nobody was in there, dead, or alive.
"Wow, this place is pretty nice." She said, taking off her coat. She wore a tight red sweater, much to Joel's pleasure. It was clear what their intention was, coming to the house, but Jemma seemed more taken in by the furnishings than anything else.
He headed over to the living room, where an untouched movie collection was waiting. He browsed the titles, picking up a few he thought the girls might enjoy. He found a television series called Twin Peaks that piqued his interest. He tucked them into his bag, and looked for Jemma.
She was already upstairs, raiding a closet.
"Do you think Ellie will like these?" She asked, and held up a few shirts for him.
Joel couldn't figure out Ellie for the life of him, so he replied with a generic "yes," and looked through the drawers.
He found nothing good, so he started to move on to the next room.
"It's fucking freezing in here!" Jemma yelled.
"Go put your coat on," Joel said, and kept scouting the office he was in.
He could hear her move to another room, and the sounds of stuff being shifted in a closet. Joel picked up some comics for Ellie. They weren't a part of that series she liked so much, but he figured she'd enjoy them just as well.
There was a loud crash, and a slew of profanities came from Jemma.
"Hey, you okay?" He asked, and headed into the master bedroom. She had knocked over a sewing set, and at least fifty spools of thread were scattered over the floor. She was picking them up and putting them haphazardly into a basket, but that didn't matter much to Joel.
Jemma had changed out of her sweater and jeans for a dark blue dress. As she stood to face him, he noticed that it was ill fitting. She crossed her arms over her chest, but it was no use. She looked like a girl trying on her mother's clothes.
"It looks terrible, I know." She gave him a small smile, and started to head back to the closet.
"Hey, let's get you out of that dress," he suggested, and Jemma turned back to him.
Joel threw the dust covered duvet onto the ground. He quickly checked the bed for bugs, but found none. Jemma had slipped out of the dress. She wore a black slip underneath, one that fit much better than the blue potato sack.
Jemma crawled onto the bed, and turned to face him. She stood on top of the bed, and proceeded to jump on it like a young child. Her laughs resonated through the room.
"Join me," she said in a sultry voice, and held out her hand for Joel. He untied his boots, and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Live a little, Joel." She started bouncing again.
"No."
She laid down next to him, and put her head on his leg. "Is it your old man knees?" She asked, teasing.
He rolled his eyes. He brushed the hair out of her eyes, and traced her lips with his finger. Jemma pulled away, and sat against the headboard.
"I haven't done this in a while," he mumbled. He sat next to her, and took her face in his hands. He kissed her, very gently.
"Is that all you've got?" She whispered into his mouth, and kissed him harder. She tried to adjust her position, but hit her head on the wall.
She winced, and Joel chuckled. He kissed her again, more forcefully this time, and Jemma pushed him back.
"What?" He asked.
"My head fucking hurts," she said, jokingly, and kissed him again. His hand went up the length of her leg, and he could feel her stiffen.
Joel looked to her face, to judge her reaction. Some sort of worry, or hesitation, played on her features. Joel pulled his hand back.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and looked back at him. She had regained composure, and gave him a small smile.
"It's okay," she whispered.
...
Joel woke with a start. Jemma was throwing her clothes on, in some sort of a rush.
"Where the hell do you have to be?"
She had a worried expression on her face. "I heard gunshots."
He rubbed his eyes. "No big deal, they're hunting some deer a few miles out."
Jemma wasn't convinced. "I don't know, I feel like we should be getting back."
"It's not even noon, Jemma. Get back in bed."
She tied up her boots. "I really don't have a good feeling."
"Fine." He sat up. "What'd you do with my clothes?"
She pointed to the dresser next to the bed. Jemma had folded everything, neatly.
They grabbed their things and left in a hurry. She walked much faster than him, her delusional disaster keeping her moving forward. Joel wasn't in any such rush, and trailed a few feet behind.
When they got to Jackson, from a distance, everything seemed fine. Granted, the town was quiet, a little too quiet, but none of the houses were ablaze, so he didn't see what the problem was.
When they reached the neighborhoods, Joel could finally sense that something was off. He realized he didn't have a gun, and a small panic set in for him.
Jemma held a small pistol in her hands. Joel was about to ask where she got it, but he stopped.
A clicker stumbled out into the street, about fifty feet away from them. The two crouched behind a power box. 'What the fuck?' She mouthed. Joel shook his head. It didn't make sense. How could there be a breach?
It walked closer to where they hid, and Jemma picked up a shard of ice. Unconventional, but it'd do the job.
The tale tell clicks became louder, and she lunged for the clicker. Its death was instant, and she took off. Joel followed, checking down each street for more infected. There were none, luckily.
They were about twenty feet from the house, when Ellie came running out.
"Where the hell were you guys?! I thought you were dead!" She yelled, her voice cracking at the end. Jemma took her into a hug,
Relief played out on both of their faces, and they stayed in the embrace for a few moments. Jemma held her close, but kept her eyes on Joel the whole time.
Tommy also emerged from the house.
"Tommy, what in God's name is going on?" Joel asked.
He shook his head. "It was those guys. When they came back, everyone was so preoccupied by the deer, that nobody was watching the gates.
"They must've followed the gunshots, and stalked them back to town. There were probably twenty of 'em."
"Did anyone get hurt?" Jemma asked.
"Yeah, remember Dwayne? He got killed. Another broke his leg."
"And?"
He sighed. "This kid, the Freeman's kid, he got bit."
"Did anyone take him out?"
Both Joel and Tommy seemed appalled at her statement.
"No, his mother wants some time," Tommy answered.
Jemma remembered his mother. Elizabeth was her name. She was too dopey and moody for Jemma, but she seemed nice enough. It was awful that she would have to go through that. But, such was the world they were living in.
...
A few hours passed, and the town was in the clear. All the infected were gone, and the hole they made in the fence was fixed.
The little boy, however, was still very much alive.
Tommy sat down at the table, across from Joel.
"I just don't know what to do." He said.
"They're going to have to kill him, either, before he turns, or after, when he's biting at their throats." Jemma said, leaning against the stove.
"It ain't so black and white, Jemma." Joel retorted.
"You can't play around for too long. They're going to have to do something," she said.
Tommy scoffed. "You can't expect them to turn around and shoot him. They love him too much to do that."
"If they love him, they'd spare everyone the agony of seeing him turn, if they did it now." She said.
"He's their son!" Tommy answered, trying not to snap. "Do you not get that?!"
Jemma was fuming. "You're acting like I've never had to make that decision before!"
A ringing silence passed through the home. All eyes were on Tommy, because, it was true, Jemma was right. It was easily forgotten. Swept under the rug, and nobody dared mention anything of her baby. It seemed like a distant memory, yet, the emotions involved came back, quickly, and in full force.
Tommy was quiet, unsure of how to respond.
...
Jemma had left the house in a huff, and she kept checking over her shoulder, to make sure none of them had followed her out. She pulled her gun out of her coat pocket, and headed for the Freeman's house.
The town was quiet. The lights in the houses were on, but the curtains were pulled tight. It felt cold and unfeeling, a complete opposite of the day before. The snow crunched under her feet, and a wind had started to pick up.
When she got to the house, she hesitantly stepped onto the porch. The sound of crying passed through the walls. Jemma stiffened, and briefly considered turning back.
But she couldn't.
The door wasn't locked, and she waltzed right in. She walked softly, almost silently. The Freemans didn't keep a clean house, and Jemma had to watch where she stepped, to avoid walking on Legos. A growing sense of dread came over her, but she kept moving forward.
The crying got louder. She walked toward the kitchen, where their son was standing. He turned to face her, and Jemma gasped.
Blood was coming out of the corners of his eyes, like tears. He was pale, and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. His mother was sitting at the table, and when she saw Jemma, she started screaming.
"You can't! Not like this! Please, just another hour, I can't!"
Jemma pointed her gun at the boy. "It'll be easier this way."
"No!" She screamed, and lunged for her. Jemma cocked her gun, and aimed for his head.
A deafening shot passed through the house. Jemma's ears were ringing, but she could hear the other woman's screams. She was disoriented, and she felt like her vision was dimming, somehow.
She turned, and saw the father standing at the foot of the stairs. He held a revolver in his hand. His face was stoic, and he showed no remorse for his son's fate. Jemma lowered her own gun, watching him the whole time.
He raised the gun at Jemma, who closed her eyes. She braced herself for the shot, but it never came.
Not for her.
Elizabeth's body fell back into the hall, and her blood splattered on Jemma's face. She quickly opened her eyes, just in time to see him pull the trigger on himself. His body crumpled on the stairs.
The ringing was louder, and Jemma couldn't think. The room was swaying, and she didn't know what to do. She stood still, but she felt as though she were falling. All she could see was red. Blood on the wall. Blood on the floor. Tears of blood, sweaty blood, metallic blood, the stench of blood, and it was all red. Red. Crimson red, like the robes of Jesus Christ. Blood was on her jacket, patterning it with several splotches. As she licked her lips, she could taste blood. It was everywhere, and she began to be nauseous.
"What the fuck?" She could hear, faintly. "Jemma, are you okay?" She could feel his hands on her shoulders, pushing the hair out of her face, but Tommy seemed miles away.
He walked away from her, and surveyed the scene. His stomach reeled at the sight of the bodies, but he kept his wits about him. He wet a rag down, and came back to Jemma. He wiped the blood off of her face.
"We need to get you out of here," he said.
Her mind was still cloudy, but she could wrap her head around his statement. "Why?" She asked.
"They're gonna pin it on you."
She pulled back. "What?"
Tommy ushered her to the back door. "People here don't have a good opinion of you. They see you walking out that front door, you're going to be the one they blame. Even with the facts, they wouldn't think it's suicide. Not when they have someone to accuse."
Jemma stumbled out into their backyard. "Where do you want me to go?"
He pointed ahead of them. Several empty lots were across the street. Beyond that was a thicket of trees. "Wait for me there. Make sure nobody sees you."
Clarity was coming slowly. She started to hoist herself over the fence, but Tommy helped her over. She turned for the trees, but he stopped her.
"Turn your jacket inside out," he said, and headed back for the Freeman's house.
...
Tommy walked slowly through the house. There was Elizabeth, and Chris, and their son, but, as he remembered, they had a daughter. He scanned the front room, but she wasn't there. He headed upstairs, carefully walking over Chris' body.
She was in her bedroom, fast asleep in bed. How could she sleep with the noise? He flipped on the light, and went to rouse her. He gently touched her shoulder, but pulled back, surprised at how cold she was. He turned her face towards him, and her lips were blue. Her neck was red and splotchy.
Her father must've strangled her.
Tommy felt sick. How could he let this happen? Three people dead that didn't have to be.
A small crowd had gathered outside the house, and he went to meet them.
They were full of questions, and he couldn't answer most of them. He stuck to what he believed was the truth: their son was infected, and they couldn't bear to live without him. So they didn't.
Maria came a short while later. "I'll take care of this," she whispered, and gestured for him to leave.
Tommy walked down the street, a few houses away, and cut through a backyard over to the next street. He looked over his shoulder, just to make sure nobody was around. He ran towards the trees, and Jemma was waited patiently for him.
The color had returned to her face, and she seemed somewhat coherent. She shivered in the cold wind, and they headed back to Joel's house.
"Why did you go over there?" He asked.
"Um," she trailed off. "It seemed like the right thing to do."
"How the hell is shooting someone's son the right thing to do?"
"Please, don't start."
"I'm just tryin' to understand what the fuck was running through your mind." He said.
She stopped walking. Her throat tightened, and she could feel tears brimming at her eyes. She didn't want to start crying, but she was flooded by some many different emotions, and she didn't know what to do.
Tommy turned to face her. "What now? You're gonna start cryin' over some people you didn't know?"
Her voice cracked as she spoke, but she remained steady. "I've killed enough people to not feel anything about that."
"Everyone's killed somebody around here. You're nothing special."
"No, Thomas, you don't get it."
He hadn't heard someone call him by his full name in over thirty years. The sound of it stopped his heart, and he had to recall who he once was. He had forgotten, after all those years.
"I've killed people who didn't deserve to die." Her voice wavered. "I was so angry, I think I just lost it. And, somehow, I justified it in my head, telling myself that they were in a better place." She lit a cigarette, and continued. "I thought that God was punishing me, when those hunters got a hold of me. But, no. The real punishment is living with that, every day."
She sighed. "That boy was just such a painful reminder. I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do." The cigarette trembled in her hand.
"Doesn't fuckin' matter," he mumbled, and started walking again.
"Then why do you have your goddamn panties in a knot?" She asked, a vein of anger coursing through her.
He turned, suddenly. He swatted the cigarette out of her hand. "Because," he poked her in the chest, hard enough that he knew it would hurt. "You because you don't give a damn about your own life, doesn't mean there aren't people here who care about you. Namely, Ellie. Your goddam sister. Because you can't watch out for yourself, I've got to. I can't let her down like that."
"You don't think I can handle myself?!"
"You're just fucking careless," he muttered.
"What has this got to do with anything?" She asked.
"Because you could've been one of those bodies, laying in that house."
...
so, I guess things took a more or less morbid turn! Next chapter is all depressing, though, so, go figure. If you liked this chapter, let me know! Any suggestions? Send me a message via pm here, or on either one of my Tumblr accounts, both of which are linked on my profile page.
also, if you're a reader of my Ish story, that will be updated tomorrow! :)