"Joel!" Ellie jumped up and grabbed Joel's jacket. She said much more than his name, with that one word. He laid a hand over hers, and looked at Tommy.
"I'll check it out," Tommy said softly, nodding for Maria to come with him. "You two go get settled in at the house. Same one you had, the blue one. I'll stop by in the morning and bring you some breakfast."
Joel nodded. "Thanks, Tommy. Ellie, let's go."
The walk to the house was a quiet one, only the sound of crunching snow disturbed the silence of the crystal clear night. Above them the same stars they had camped under the last few days now sparkled down upon the roofs of the little community. A few townsfolk passed them on the street, nodding politely as they reached each other. Joel was well known already in Jackson, almost everyone knew he was related to Tommy, and right now, he and Ellie both looked rough. Perhaps that was why no one spoke, merely cast an appraising glance and moved on. Reputation and appearance made for a formidable sight at the moment.
"A shower would be nice," Joel commented, glancing at Ellie. Normally, she would be the first one chattering about showers and pajamas and settling in. But she merely murmured a sound that could have been accepted as a yes, her eyes focused on the street. His jaw flexed and he trudged on, the events of the last few days washing over him like lead weights, and each step he took toward the blue house felt heavier than the last.
Everything was as they had left it. Joel flicked on some lights as Ellie tossed her pack onto the kitchen island, and fell into an armchair leaning her head back against the soft cushions, her eyes closing. She hummed appreciatively and the corners of Joel's eyes turned upwards in a bit of a smile.
"Hey, kiddo, shower first. Then comfort."
"Can't I do it in the opposite order?" She whined, snuggling in deeper into the softness. Joel outright laughed. It was completely absurd, this sudden step from fighting for their life to fighting over a shower. It was so family, so normal.
"No," he grunted, setting his own pack on the island next to hers, and reaching over to ruffle her hair. "Shower first. I promise, you will feel better, then you have the whole evening free."
"Fine," Ellie grumbled, shoving herself off the chair and stomping her way upstairs. "But you're showering too. I'm not gonna be the only one."
"Of course," he called up after her, smirking. He followed, their packs in his hands, and tossed hers onto her bed. "You got everything you need?"
When there was no response, he turned, face linked with sudden concern. Ellie was nowhere to be seen, so he wandered toward the bathroom. "Ellie? Kiddo, you good?"
He knocked on the doorframe with his knuckles, and poked his head around the door. Ellie sat on the side of the tub, looking down at the bite scar on her arm, shall shoulders rising and falling unevenly, as if stifling back open sobs. "Ellie?"
"Joel." The tears began to fall, and he quickly knelt in front of her, wrapping his arms around her, and pulling her close to his chest.
"Ellie, what's wrong, baby?"
She shook her head, sobbing, burrowing her face into the side of his neck. He sighed heavily, raking a hand through her tangled hair. "Baby, you've got to give me something to work with here, or I don't know how I can help you. Are you in pain, anything hurt?"
She shook her head, and pulled away. "Everything."
"Everything hurts?"
"No," she corrected him, her voice a broken mess. "Everything that's happened fucking hurts."
"Yeah," he breathed, wiping away her tears with his thumb. "I know, kid. I'm sorry. Can I help you at all, anything I can do?"
She shook her head again, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. "I - I just felt vulnerable up here."
"Because you were alone?" Joel carefully stood, knees creaking, and started gathering towels from the cabinet. He waited for an old age pun from Ellie, but it didn't come. Just a wet sigh. "I can stay out here until you are done, if you want, just shut the bathroom door."
"Well, partly cause I was alone. Partly because..partly because I don't want to take my clothes off." Her voice trailed off and she chewed the inside of her lip to ground her racing thoughts. She felt as if she were falling into a great pit of blackness, where all of her worst fears were reality and darkness swallowed her whole.
Joel dropped the towels onto the closed toilet seat lid and tapped her cheek with the knuckle of his pointer finger.
"Hey, don't do that, you'll hurt your face."
"Already hurts," she grumbled, kicking at the furry bathmat on the floor. "Nothing new."
"I know. But you just don't need to make it worse by worrying it with your teeth. Ellie, I know everything is fucked up right now. And I am sorry about that. But I'm here, right here on the other side of the door, if you need me. You've got to focus on that just for a minute, baby, let the rest go just for a minute. You okay to shower now?"
She looked up at Joel, studying his tired face. He leaned against the doorframe, solid and steady. One wouldn't know that just days ago he was dying on the floor of an old broken down house in the middle of fucking nowhere. His hair was tousled, dirt streaked across his face. He looked rough. And here he was, putting off getting clean and comfortable, simply to make sure she was okay. She didn't deserve him.
"I'm okay now," she said softly. "Just needed a minute. I can do this."
He didn't look like he believed her, but he nodded. "Alright then. Need anything, yell. I'll be right across the hall."
After Joel left the room, Ellie set about showering and changing, refusing to look at the bruises that littered her body. If she didn't see them, then they weren't true. The vulnerability was what had hit her the hardest, the fear of being in an unprotected environment without Joel around. But she struggled through it, and let the water run. It was a very different shower than the one at Bill and Franks. That shower had been simply a luxury, stolen from the middle of chaos. This shower was necessity, and as the water ran, it washed away the feeling of grasping hands, kicking feet, and sweat that wasn't hers.
In the privacy of the moment, she grappled with the pain. The pain of what David had done, the pain of giving up on the cure, the pain of knowing Hannah wanted Joel dead, the pain of not knowing if a baby would be her last gift from David to bear the rest of her life.
It hurt. It all fucking hurt.
And she let the tears fall silently, stoically, as FEDRA school had taught her, hidden by the merciful flow of hot water and steam.
After she was dressed in pajamas that Maria had brought for her when they were there the last time, she perched on her bed, combing out her hair. It was tangled, and frustrating, and she yanked at it with the comb. A grunt of frustration escaped her lips, and she tossed the comb across the room.
"Ellie?" Joel's voice called from the hall. "You alright?"
"Fucking fabulous," she replied, in a voice that was too on edge, too raw. Immediately, Joel's bearded face popped around the doorframe, brows knit in concern. He glanced from her miserable face to the comb in the floor, and a half smile crossed his face.
"Want me to do that?"
"Do what," she asked sullenly, frowning at him. She was an adorable sight, a sight that tugged at the father's heart inside of him. All wrinkled pajamas, tousled hair, and pouty face.
"Comb your hair? I mean, you are welcome to leave it like a rat's nest if you want, but -"
"Yes."
Joel blinked at the interruption, his brain taking a moment to register that it was permission. Then he silently stepped into her room again, picked up the comb, and nodded once, walking over to her bed, patting the mattress. "Scoot over."
She moved sideways, half turning her back toward him expectantly, and he carefully set about detangling the mess of chestnut hair.
"Joel," Ellie said softly, barely audibly. He hmmed a reply, gathering up all the loose hair from the comb and the bed and putting it all in a neat pile before continuing to comb her hair, methodically, trying to get it to dry a little.
"Joel, what do you think Hannah will do? She won't kill you, right?"
"No," he replied firmly. "Stop worrying about it."
"Well, I'm gonna. Joel, she has every reason to kill you, in her mind, and I am not gonna fucking allow it."
Joel paused combing and tugged on her hair a little. "Don't you go picking fights with her."
"I'm not," Ellie argued. "But if she so much as comes after you, I'm going to have a thing or two to say."
"Ellie, no fighting. Tommy can handle this. He and Maria have offered to look after Hannah."
"What if it's not enough to keep her under control."
"Under control? Ellie, they aren't going to hold her prisoner."
Ellie tilted her head back, frowning at Joel upside down. "I know that, Joel. But I am not going to stand by while she has a vendetta against you."
"Ellie," Joel said calmly. "I have been doing this surviving thing a lot longer than I have been with you. I got this. I don't want you getting hurt or causing trouble."
"She's the one causing trouble, not me!"
Joel tapped Ellie's head with the comb. "Sounds like both of you might be on the same trouble list. Hey, put your head up, gonna break your damn neck bending it like that."
"Oh, you don't like that?" Ellie's face became mischievous, and she tilted her head back, poking out her tongue at him.
"I can stop combing if you like," Joel threatened, raising his eyebrows. Ellie immediately straightened.
"No, no. I'll stop."
Joel chuckled. "That's what I thought, you little shit."
"Joel," Ellie asked, her voice taking on that familiar sneaky tone she used when she was being a fucking nuisance. "Why do bees have sticky fur?"
"No idea. Why do they have sticky fur?" Joel asked dryly, rolling his eyes, although she couldn't see him.
"Because they use honey combs!" Ellie announced excitedly, bouncing slightly on the mattress. It was such an innocent move, one he was so glad to see.
But of course he wasn't going to tell her that.
"That was one of your worst," he grumbled. "Fucking stupid. Now get your ass under those covers so I can tuck you in. My shower is calling, and I would like to go speak with it, if you don't mind too terribly much."
Ellie huffed her annoyance at the ceasing of the combing. It felt really good after all this time of twisting it into whatever kind of ponytail she could get it to stay in. FEDRA didn't do much teaching in the way of hygiene, other than don't stink, so she had relied on Riley to teach her hair things, although the ponytail was her frequent go to.
Joel settled her into the soft bed, pulling the cover over her head. She laughed and yanked it down, her hair all over her face. "Joel!"
He chuckled deeply. "Just seeing if you are awake." He pushed the hair from her face, and leaned down, kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, Ellie. Don't let the bed bugs bite."
"What are bed bugs?" She called after him, sitting up, propping on one elbow.
He laughed, his voice faint in his own room. "If you don't know what they are then you're good. What you don't know won't hurt you. I will tell you about them tomorrow."
"But I want to know!" Ellie called after him, trying to see in the shadows. She heard the water turn on in his bathroom, and then he was standing in the hall again, weight on his left hip.
"Tomorrow, Ellie. Joel, shower, that comes first and foremost. Now get to sleep. Breakfast will come before you know it."
Ellie lay back in the comfortable bed, so different from the bouncing horseback ride through all of last night. The moon cast a golden glow across her bed, and as weariness tugged at her eyelids, she remembered thinking that maybe this was what normal looked like before the infection.
Before FEDRA.
Before the Fireflies.
Before clickers.
Before Jackson.
Normal existed once upon a time.
Maybe it could exist again in a healing world.
Or maybe she was just a fucking sentimental optimist.
The night passed in a dead silence. Ellie had feared the nightmares that would come once sleep claimed her, but her brain wasn't comfortable enough with dealing with it all yet, and she slept dreamlessly, waking to the sound of knocking at the front door. Tommy's promise to bring breakfast drifted back into her mind, and she threw off the covers, favoring her still sore ribs, and stood, stretching out her aching muscles. Walking in the snow was no easy feat, especially with the speed they had been pushing. Tommy's voice was speaking downstairs, although muffled, and Joel's rumbling could be heard every so often, as if asking a question.
Then the door shut, and all was silent. Tommy must have updated Joel and not stayed to breakfast.
She rummaged in the dresser, pulling out a grey sweatshirt and jeans, and changed from her pajamas, ran the comb through her hair a couple times, then headed downstairs.
"What did that brother of yours bring us?" Ellie asked, taking the steps two at a time. "Better be something fucking good, because I'm starving." She skipped into the kitchen, and then froze as the figure at the table turned to face her.
"Tommy?"
"Morning, Ellie." Tommy nodded, sipping his mug of coffee. "Bacon and eggs and pancakes on the stove for you. Joel told me you like pancakes."
"Where's Joel?" Ellie asked, fear pouring into her chest in an icy flood. It wasn't Tommy that frightened her. It was the idea that she was lone in the house with a man other than Joel.
Tommy's not a rapist, she chanted to herself. He won't hurt me.
"He went to the clinic with Maria, to talk to Hannah." Tommy held up a hand at the mutinous expression that immediately crossed Ellie's face. "Easy, kiddo. She doesn't remember Joel is the one who killed her dad. Just that someone named Joel killed her dad. I showed her a picture of him and she said that wasn't the man. We both know it was, but Joel is going over there to see if there is a reaction at all."
"Isn't that dangerous," Ellie asked, glancing at the door. Tommy stood, casually moving between her and the door.
"Ellie, she's hooked up to machines and medicine, and she's on some pretty hefty meds. She's not going to attack him. He told me to tell you he said you were to fucking stay here and eat the damn pancakes."
"Since when have I ever listened to what I was told?" Ellie grumbled, glancing at the door again. If she could just step around him, maybe on the side of the hand that held his coffee cup, she could get past him and out the door, and get to Joel. Had to get to Joel. Had to get away from the strange man.
"Since now." Tommy took a step forward, then leaned his elbow comfortably on the kitchen island. "Ellie, you have to let Joel handle this one. He's asking you - I'm asking you - to let us handle this. He won't be much longer. She isn't awake for lengthy periods at a time, so he is going to come back and eat with us after he sees her. You can go over later if you want, just give him a few moments to talk to her."
"Don't want to," Ellie replied flatly. "Just don't want Joel to get hurt."
Tommy chuckled, taking another sip of coffee. "You care about my brother, don't you, kiddo. Well, I'm glad someone does. As you can tell, he is a bit of a loner, doesn't really have anyone to keep him in line. He's lucky he has you."
Ellie shifted her eyebrows, in an expression of agreement, but she was finding that the close proximity of Tommy, with his broad frame blocking the door, was stirring something inside of her, a strong desire to run away, get away, stay out of reach. She was alone, in a room, with a strange man, and no way out.
"Hey, kid," Tommy's voice suddenly broke through the haze of fear, and she found herself gasping for air. "Kid, it's okay, take a breath. It's just Uncle Tommy. You're alright, you're safe." Her eyes focused on his face, the worry etched there so very similar to Joel's. "What's wrong, Ellie?"
The words did not settle her panic, however, so she went the only direction she could. The way he drawled her name - Ellie - turned her stomach, and spinning around quickly, she ran back upstairs, a muttered "Ah, shit," from Tommy fading behind her.