Her eyes flew open as her boots connected with the rooftop, arms pinwheeling. She'd undershot the jump, and was now flailing on the edge, trying desperately to fall forward instead of back. Her momentum tipped backwards, and her heart skipped as she realized she wasn't able to stop herself. She opened her mouth to scream, and- Joel's hand clasped her forearm, rough skin scraping the inside of her elbow as he pulled her back onto solid ground.

He dropped her and backed away before she could wrench her arm from his grasp. His hands were raised, palms up, as though trying not to provoke a wild animal. She heard a shattering, crunching sound, followed by the curdled screams of infected as they tumbled into the room across the gap behind her. Her breath was ragged in her throat, catching in her heaving lungs as her body internalized that she wasn't a puddle of goo on the street below.

She pivoted, following Joel's look back to the clickers. They hissed and chittered, flexing their horrible broken bodies back and forth as they searched. A shudder ran through her, and she had to breathe through another wave of nausea. She was going to need a stronger stomach, if she had any hope of survival out here.

Joel jerked his head, taking a few backward steps before turning to lead them away. This section of rooftop connected a few apartment buildings, and they were able to walk along it for a time. The pink edges of sunrise were beginning to break through the clouds, painting the city in a wash of gold and pastels. She hadn't seen the Boston skyline in years, and despite its devastation familiarity tickled the back of her mind.

A rich overgrowth of trees and vines enveloped the city, turning the man-made structures into dark, wild places. Even the sky, vast and terrifying, was strikingly beautiful. None of her endless daydreams could have prepared her for this feeling; indescribable, and wide enough to drown in. When she finally tore her gaze away from the sight, she found her hands shaking. She balled them up, pulling them to her chest in a way she hoped looked natural.

The sound of scraping wood startled her, and she felt her shoulders jump to her ears, head ducking low. Joel stepped forward with a long, heavy looking plank that he carried on one shoulder without much effort. The edge of the roof here was bordered by a short wall, and lined up almost exactly with the building across from it. He eased the board down and let it fall, spanning the gap between the two.

His eyes were on Ellie, a crease between his brows, as he stood next to the makeshift bridge. He offered her a hand, the motion at odds with his surly demeanor.

"Alright. Now, watch your step as you're goin' up cause it's gonna be a little b-"

She cut him off with a scoff, hopping up onto the board and crossing without hesitation. He gave a rough exhale, dry and disbelieving, as he turned to face Willow. She swallowed a lump, comprehending the height. Her head was swimming, and she wouldn't get much farther without an episode if she didn't take her medicine.

"Go on ahead, I need to catch my breath." She did her best to keep her voice casual, unbothered.

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't press her. Just lifted himself onto the plank and traversed the gap, not glancing down. She heard him touch down on the other side as she knelt, sifting through her bag.

Her few possessions left the pack mostly empty aside from what food rations she'd saved. Shoving the flavorless jerky to one side, she let her fingers drift to the plastic bag of thirty little white pills. Well, twenty-nine now that she was popping one under her tongue, washed down with a swallow from her canteen. Just that familiar motion did something to calm her electric nerves.

Joel and Ellie spoke in soft voices. She couldn't quite make out their words, but the tone wasn't hostile. If she didn't know better, she'd have called it friendly. Looking up, she saw them framed by brick and ivy. They stood stark against the sky, anchoring it in a way that made the world seem less huge for a moment. The golden dome of the capitol building was closer than she'd realized, cresting over the horizon like a rising sun.

She moved nearer without thinking, trying to hear them. He was looking at the kid again, that strange expression on his face, before his gaze fell to his watch. For the first time, Willow noticed that it was shattered. That fact stuck in her mind like popcorn between teeth; wedged in and impossible not to fiddle with. Ellie pivoted, heading for a ladder down to the main street.

He was still looking at his wrist as she approached, and she was close enough to see the crinkles by his eyes before she glanced down. The world, which had narrowed with her focus down to those subtle lines of his face, zoomed out again as she realized she stood perched on the plank bridge, half way between buildings. Her muscles froze, locking in place so fast it was almost painful.

As though she'd made a sound, which she was sure she had not, Joel's eyes darted up to hers. It was too fast of a movement, too intuitive, for her to mask the fear written across her face. His brows drew together, and he moved forward like he was going to help her. She remembered the rough feel of his skin against hers, and anxiety jumped in her veins.

Before he could reach for her, her feet were moving again. Don't look down, don't look down. She ignored his offered hand, shifting her pack on her shoulders as she jogged to catch up with Ellie. It was a moment before she heard his footsteps behind her. The rusty iron ladder dug into her palms on the way down, but every rung closer to the ground was a relief.

The last clouds had thinned from the sky, and Willow kept her face down, using her hair as a curtain to keep the sun out of her eyes. It was fairly poor cover, and she was already having to blink back tears as she squinted through the bright rays.

Soon, she would be meeting the Fireflies. A little flutter of nerves tickled her stomach at the thought, and she flexed her fingers to dispel the anxiety. What would they be like? Would she make a good impression? She tried to shove that consideration to the back of her mind.

"So," she glanced at Ellie, aiming to distract herself. "You really can't be infected?"

Ellie shrugged, kicking a rock at her feet as she replied,

"I mean, I've only been bitten once," her lips twisted in a grim smirk. "But that seems to do the trick for most people. So, yeah."

"Damn." Willow let out a low whistle. "That's something."

"I hope so." There was a pause, and then, "hey, how do you do that?"

"Hmm?"

"Whistling. I can never figure it out." Ellie puffed her cheeks, sputtering air between her lips, and Willow found herself pressing her mouth together to stifle a smile.

"It's kind of hard to explain," she mused, her head tilting as she the tried to put the feeling into words. "You can't blow out all the air at once, you have to keep it slow. And your tongue should be almost flat, but close to your teeth. Like this."

She demonstrated, tapping her tongue against her teeth, and when she looked up it was Joel's gaze she met. His hazel eyes were tense with caution, and something else, as he regarded her. She thought she saw them flick over her mouth for a fraction of a second, but it was over too quickly. She cleared her throat and they lapsed back into uneasy silence, meandering up the wide street toward the capitol.

As the drug seeped into her bloodstream, the tremor in her hands began to subside. A blanket dropped over her senses, making the edges soft and fuzzy. Her mind felt clearer somehow, unhindered by the haze of fear that usually clouded it. An easy confidence slipped into her body, making her movements smooth and sure. Even the sting of blisters on her feet faded to the periphery of her thoughts.

Joel led the way, rifle braced against his shoulder. He moved like a trained soldier, sharp and efficient. There was something almost mesmerizing about it, and Willow's eyes kept wandering back to him as they walked. His presence with that weapon was both a threat and a comfort, and it was impossible to tune him out. Even when she wasn't staring, she felt his presence like an electric charge on the air.

The first thing she noticed as they approached the capitol building was the silence. No Fireflies patrolled the abandoned street, no voices floated on the morning breeze. A chipping marble staircase led up from the pavement, culminating in a set of huge double doors that stood slightly ajar. Not a single sound echoed from behind the wood panels. She and Joel looked up at the same moment, their gazes colliding in an unspoken understanding. Something was wrong.

Approaching the bottom of the stairs, something caught her eye. A splash of red against the pale stone, reflective as it pooled under the sun.

"Shit." Joel cursed under his breath, and she knew he'd seen the blood too.

"Get behind me," she whispered to Ellie, extending a hand as a barrier between the girl and whatever awaited them inside.

Ellie didn't argue, falling into step silently, her hands fisted in the worn sleeves of her hoodie. Joel was at the top of the steps already, nudging the doors open with the butt of his rifle. When there was no shouting or gunshots, Willow followed, taking the steps two at a time.

The doors opened to reveal a large, round room. It was lined by smooth columns, the patterned stone floors crusted with dirt and sprouting moss. Crates of guns and grenades stood open, next to suspicious looking metal barrels. An overall inadvisable setup, that she immediately overlooked because of the half dozen bodies lying around the place.

A trail of blood led from the door to the grizzly aftermath of some kind of massacre. A gasp choked off in her throat, and she threw a protective arm around Ellie. Joel's shoulders sagged, like he was more inconvenienced than surprised, as he nudged one of the men over with his foot. Blood, and something else thick and chunky spilled from a wound on the side of his head.

He was clearly a Firefly, his shoulder bearing a patch with their insignia. A wave of nausea rolled over Willow, and she struggled to breathe evenly through her nose as they surveyed the bodies.

"Who killed them, FEDRA?" Ellie's voice was soft, but it carried in the echoey room.

"No," Joel said, glancing down at the one he'd rolled over. His eyes were glassy, face covered in a spiderweb of distended veins. "One of 'em got bit. Healthy ones fought the sick ones, everyone lost."

His body language had gone stiff, distant. He was looking at the floor, a grim twist to his mouth, when Ellie asked,

"Okay… well, what now?" Her eyes were wide, worry clear in the watery green of them.

Joel swallowed, turning his head sharply away before speaking.

"Look, Marlene hired me to get you here. Nothin' else." His voice was even gruffer than usual. "So I'm goin' back to the QZ, n' I don't really care what you do. Either of ya."

"Are you fucking serious?" Immediately, Ellie was firing back on him.

His head was shaking, and he took several steps backwards as she addressed him. Willow cut in, sharp and accusatory.

"You're really just going to leave us here?" She wasn't expecting the hurt in her own voice. When had she allowed herself to get used to his presence?

His eyes flicked up to hers for a moment, and she was sure she saw regret there. But then he clenched his jaw and turned away again, icing over. He waved a hand in the air dismissively, and that might've been that. Then, the sound of tires crunching on rubble sliced through the room.

In an instant Joel was between them and the door, rifle aimed and ready. They heard the slamming of vehicle doors, then muted voices as a group of soldiers made their way toward the capitol.

"-say why they dragged us all the way out here?"

"Yeah. Fireflies've been running goods through this area, and one of our patrols said they heard gunshots. Could be them."

"When was that?"

"Couple hours ago maybe? Command said to search the buildings in this area."

Willow's panic crested above the gentle buzz of medicine in her blood, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

"You two get a move on, I'll make sure they ain't followin' ya." Joel's jaw was set in a determined line.

"Excuse me?" Willow's reply was breathless. "A second ago you were ready to leave us for dead."

"Don't argue, God damn it! Just do it." He was gritting his teeth, gaze sharp on the door.

She heard the commotion outside as the soldiers noticed the bloody steps, at the same moment an idea clicked into place. She eyed the rusty metal barrels, closed with screw tops and clearly labeled: flammable. Then, she was shoving Joel out of the way.

"Move!" She grunted as she lodged her shoulder against one and pushed, the thick smell of gasoline immediately filling the room as gallons of the stuff glugged out onto the floor. She watched as it soaked into the wooden crates, dousing the bottom edges.

"The hell do you think you're doin'?" He whispered harshly.

"Hurry up," she replied, ignoring his question. "Out the back."

The windows behind them were wide and shattered, leading out to an even larger staircase at the back of the building. The sound of careful footsteps eased their way up to the front entrance as the three of them began hastening away. To her surprise, Joel seemed to trust that she had some kind of plan. Or he simply had nothing left to lose, and was following her for the hell of it.

The two of them helped Ellie through the window first, then he stood back to let her go through. He didn't offer her a hand, just waited while she hoisted herself over the edge. The double doors were creaking open as he ducked out, his head slipping around the corner just in time to go unnoticed.

"You got a lighter?" Willow's voice was barely a whisper. "Or some matches?"

Joel's brow rumpled in confusion for an instant, before his eyes flared in surprise as he realized her intention.

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head sharply. "You ain't doin' that."

She opened her mouth to argue, they didn't really have a choice here, but he was already pulling a shiny silver Zippo from his pocket. He jerked his chin, a signal for them to get back. Willow didn't hesitate, she grabbed Ellie's shoulder and together they ran down the steps.

There was a muffled shout, no doubt as the soldiers saw them make a break for it. She didn't see Joel throw the lighter, just heard his grunt and swift footsteps as he sprinted behind them in the instant before the building ignited. The blast was deafening, and she threw her hands over her ears. Her first worry was that her eardrums would pop, and then as she felt the draught of heat at her back she feared she'd be burned alive.

But everything was eerily still after that. She turned, shell-shocked and reeling, to face the husk of the capitol. It roared with orange flame, licking up the white paint, and the only sounds were cracks and pops of roasting wood; and the bodies she knew were inside. Her hands were trembling again, and she barely felt the wind brush past her as Joel walked on, leading the way into the distance.