If a character has a ? by their name or by the 'coming soon', it means I'm not sure if I'll write for them or if I should.
When making a request, please be specific! Don't just write character x reader. Tell me the gender (Fem/Male/GN/FtM/Mtf), what you would like it to be (imagine, fic, headcanon), and a mini plot or generally what you want it to be about or a song if you want a song fic. It's fine asking 'Hey do you write for this character? If so, could you do some stuff for them?'
Archive of Our Own (x Original Characters)
Marvel
DC
Young Adult Media
Horror Media
A Song Of Ice and Fire
East Asian Dramas
Animated Media
Period Dramas
Popular/Ongoing Series of Mine
When Fire Meets Fate (House of The Dragon -mainly Rhaenyra- x M!Hightower!Reader) ON HIATUS
Our Flickering Light (The Last of Us- mainly Joel Miller- x M!Reader) ONGOING - ONGOING
Oasis (Olympo - mainly Sebas Sendón x M!Reader) ON HIATUS TIL NEXT SEASON
Sunlight, Moonlight (Heated Rivalry - Shane Hollander x M!Reader x Ilya Rozanov) ON HIATUS TIL NEXT SEASON
Fandoms I'm in
You can find a list here (Note: These are not all of them lol)
I know many have been waiting for another HR series or keeping along with Our Flickering Light. However, I will be taking a small hiatus as we've come to the decision to put my childhood pet to sleep. I've been crying on and off about it for a bit, and I know I can't put a lot of my focus on the series (or anything, really) while grieving her.
I'm not sure when I'll start posting again, but it won't be long. I know I'll be needing a distraction from my feelings at some point <3
CW/TW: Mentions of suicide, child death (Sarah), and terminal illnesses
Happy pride month <3
~~~
Their temporary home was a nice two-story wooden house painted a washed-out blue. It'd been sitting vacant for a while, from the personal belongings still around in each room. Anything of use had been taken, obviously, but Maria assured them she'd come by to help restock the home for however long they were staying.
(Y/N) stood in the doorway of the bedroom he'd chosen, his ears picking up the creaking of floorboards upstairs where Ellie explored around her new bedroom. Her room was a teenager's bedroom, based on the pink walls and board with male celebrities pinned on it.
It belonged to someone who was now either dead or a full-grown adult, someone who probably wondered what'd happened to her childhood home.
His room, on the other hand, looked like it'd belonged to a grandparent. There was old vinyl furniture sitting around, a rocking chair that looked one seat away from falling apart, chipped floral wallpaper, and a basket of dust-covered yarn tucked beneath a wooden desk. He wanted Joel to have the master bedroom; it made the most sense to him.
(Y/N)'s head turned to peer into the living room and his bottom lip rolled into his mouth. He never thought that being in a house again would bring such heaviness over his chest.
The corners of his eyes prickled, and he took a deep breath, rubbing his fingers over his forehead. His nostrils flared, and he desperately blinked away the tears forming.
Frank would've loved Jackson. He would've loved rushing into town as early as possible to help get the decorations started, or to sit and gossip with the older residents, or to help the teachers with the kids.
Bill would've loathed being around people again, but he would've thrown himself into the construction, helping repair things, offering his ideas.
They would've been happy... the three of them.
"I believe these are your size."
(Y/N) inhaled sharply and rubbed the sleeves of his hoodie over his eyes, taking a few steps into the room and away from Maria. He tried to inhale through his nose quietly without sniffling, squeezing his eyes shut to rid them of the tears before he turned around to face her with a small, polite smile.
Maria stepped into the doorway, a pile of clothes in her hands. She stared at him for a moment in silence, her eyes studying his features. Her shoulders rose with her deep breath, and she approached the bed, setting them down and separating the larger clothes from the smaller ones meant for Ellie.
"My mother passed before the outbreak." She told him, neatly folding the clothes meant for Ellie again, her features blank. "Our relationship was... complicated. I didn't cry at her funeral, or a few days afterward, but a month later, while I was deciding which clothes to donate and which to keep, it hit me like a truck."
(Y/N) allowed himself to sniffle then, gently rubbing his nose with his sleeve as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. He fiddled with his fingers, teardrops clinging to his lashes that spilled when his eyes watered again.
He pressed his trembling lips together and ran his hand over the maroon knitted sweater she'd found for him, his fingertips tracing the woven pattern.
"That kind of grief... it follows you forever."
Maria swiped her tongue over her lips, pinching the fabric of the magenta-white jacket on the neat pile between her fingers and rubbing.
"The grief of losing a child, too." (Y/N)'s eyes darted up to look at her, his exhale coming out shaky. "You think you're doing good, that you've moved on, and then suddenly... it creeps up on you. Swallows you whole."
(Y/N) rubbed his lips together, delicately sighing. "Sometimes... I forget that I've lost two pairs of parents." He let out a trembling, dry chuckle, his head tilting upward to gaze up at the ceiling. "With Mom, it's... numbed, I guess. I'd had time to prepare, to accept her death before it happened. But with them, it..."
His mind flickered back to their last dinner together, to the reluctant acceptance he'd had to face when he watched them drink from the spiked wine. His tears before falling asleep that night had been both from grief and anger.
They hadn't given him a choice; they hadn't thought to consider what his future would be like without them. Guilt swirled in his chest.
"We lived in a house like this. Tall and imposing, with a good look at the neighborhood and town... It had a basement, too, and the kitchen almost looks the same. So many bedrooms. It was a damn maze... but Mom's room looked like this, and- and I can't help but- but consider what they'd all think about this place. If we'd considered traveling, if-"
"The ifs are going to kill you. Trust me." Maria stated firmly, shuffling the clothes to the side so she could take a seat beside him.
Her hand came to rest over his knee, squeezing lightly. The relaxed, eerily calm energy she carried softened into something warmer.
"Ever since I lost my boy, my Kevin, I've tormented myself with the what-ifs. What if I had done this differently? What if I'd done that differently? I've come to terms with the fact that... it doesn't matter. It happened. I can't go back in time. None of us can."
(Y/N) rubbed his palm over his forehead, nodding weakly. "Yeah... yeah... I just..."
He stared at his lap through his blurry vision, his head faintly throbbing from the crying. He thought he'd moved on, but he supposed he'd been too caught up in all the chaos to really sit with the grief.
"It's hard to look at Jackson without thinking about Lincoln.. about the empty stores and houses. Frank always hoped that- that a group of friendly wanderers would happen upon Lincoln, and we'd be a community. He loved people, and he never got to- to see humanity restored like this."
Maria's hand raised from his knee to his back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. "You got to see it, and from the sounds of it, that might've been his greatest wish. Tommy and I have a memorial at home for the people we loved and lost. You could do one here for your loved ones."
(Y/N)'s mouth twitched upward into a sad, weak smile. "That'd be nice."
Maria nodded, rubbing his back a few more times before she stood up and scooped the clothes back into her arms. "You should shower. All the houses here have hot water, and the heater works if you want to change the temperature. I'm going to give these to Ellie and make sure she's settling in nicely. If you need anything, Tommy and I are across the street."
(Y/N) patted his cheeks dry again. "Thank you, Maria."
Maria walked toward the door and stopped in the doorway again, lingering for a moment before she turned halfway to look at him.
"I know it's none of my business, but the girl, Ellie... is she yours?" She asked, her brows beginning to furrow. "And if she's not, can I ask what she's doing with you?"
"That's a question for Joel to answer," (Y/N) responded, resting his hands over his thighs. He knew how it looked: two random men wandering around a ruined America with a fourteen-year-old girl. Anyone with a heart would ask. "I can tell you that... It's a favor. Her safety is our priority, I assure you."
"Mm," Maria pursed her lips. "Are you aware of Joel's past, (Y/N)? Of what he's done? What he's capable of?"
"Yes." (Y/N)'s head swayed to the side. "And from my understanding, Tommy's done some bad things, too, but you still trust him. You still married him." Maria's eyes fell onto the floor, her lips pressing into a sheepish line. "You know people are capable of change."
"And Joel?" Her eyes flickered up to meet his. "Is he capable of change?"
(Y/N) laced his fingers together, offering a half-shrug. "Maybe. I think so... But what I do know is that he's the type of man who will go to hell and back for someone he cares about. Repeatedly, if he has to. If I didn't think he had a good, honest heart, I wouldn't be here. I trust him. I care about him."
"Love can be blinding." (Y/N)'s mouth parted, and then promptly shut, his eyes averting. "I have eyes, (Y/N). I see plenty."
"It's not love. I'm not an idiot. I know he and I will only ever be friends, and that's okay. I've made peace with it, and because of that, I can see him for who he is: a man who's been through so much that he's shut down because of it. You and I, and everyone in this town, are only one step away from becoming him. Besides, if you can't trust him, trust your husband. Tommy is the only one here who truly knows him by heart."
Maria swallowed, considering his words, before she nodded and reached for the doorknob. Collecting the clothes and towel, (Y/N) headed into the connected bathroom and set the items down on the bathroom counter. He turned the shower on and released everything he held inside in a long, drawn-out sigh, his eyes fluttering.
They still had to find the Fireflies and deliver Ellie to them, but afterward, they could return to Jackson and... live. Happily. They could form friendships, find decent work, immerse themselves in the community. Then, once the cure was created, they could tear down the walls and help other towns form their own communities.
That sounded like a good plan.
(Y/N) slipped out of his old, dirtied clothes and stepped beneath the spray, a soft grunt escaping his mouth when the warm water hit his skin.
He rubbed the soap on his hands and rinsed his skin, shuddering gently as his cooled skin warmed. He ensured to get soap and water in every crevice of his body, soaping up and rinsing off twice over until he was certain he was squeaky clean.
It felt heavenly to slip into new, clean clothes that weren't covered in grime and sweat. He took the chance to brush his teeth, too. By the time he left the bathroom, it was as if he'd thrown off twenty pounds of weight. He tossed his old clothes into the laundry basket in the room and walked out of the bedroom, gazing around the house while he made his way upstairs.
His ears picked up the sound of the shower, and he walked into the bedroom, his eyes studying the bay window. He'd always wanted one, ever since he'd first seen one at a friend's house.
He knocked once on the bathroom door, waiting for Ellie to call out before he said, "Hey, I'm going to explore the town a bit. If you need anything, check in with Maria, okay?"
"Okay!"
Slipping on the coat Maria had left behind, (Y/N) left the house and wandered down the sidewalk back into town. It was interesting, the town.
He'd grown up in the suburbs beside the city, so he'd grown used to quiet neighborhoods and bustling cities where cars were always honking. They'd always take the car into the city, despite the proximity, and walk around after parking.
But in Jackson, the stores shared walls, expanding down the street in rows of various sizes. Some shops were one-story and quaint, barely bigger than a bedroom, while others were tall and wide, accommodating at least thirty or more people.
They looked right out of one of those festive movies his mother would play from time to time, where the girl from a big city would fall for a farmer.
It was still surreal to see groups of people casually walking around, bright and happy, not a speck of fear or worry on their faces. Even back in the Baltimore QZ, people walked the streets with a tightness in their shoulders and exhaustion in their eyes.
People feared hunger, and they worked until their arms and legs trembled.
In Jackson, the atmosphere was different. It was lighter, brighter, joyful. He watched a young child, not much older than four, rush toward their mother with gleeful laughter, and felt his chest warm.
He strolled through the decorated streets, taking note of the shops around, of the fact that people bartered for things, until he stopped in front of what he assumed was the doctor's office.
He swallowed, thinking back to what Joel had mentioned just the night before. If the Fireflies had the ability to create a cure, they likely had the equipment needed to do testing.
His heart clenched, and he stepped into the office, his eyes settling on an older man in a white coat checking a clipboard.
"Welcome." The man said without looking up, his bushy brows in a tight furrow. His hair was messy, streaked in silver, dark gray, and hints of blonde. "How can I help you?"
"I've... got a question," (Y/N) replied, wrapping his arms around himself.
He brushed the bottom of his boots over the mat to avoid trekking snow in and approached the man, his teeth nipping at his lip. The waiting room looked like the ones pre-outbreak, muted colors and cushioned seats that dug into the meat of your thighs regardless.
The man looked up at him questioningly, eyeing him for a moment as if noticing he couldn't recognize him. "What is it?"
"Uhm, a long time ago, I went with my mother to a doctor's appointment... I don't remember much, but.. I remember it was mentioned that I'd need to be tested, eventually.. for uhm.."
(Y/N) scratched the tip of his brow. Frank had always soothed his anxieties, anxieties that'd spiked after his mother's passing and then dwindled. She'd been all skin and bones, unable to hold anything down.
"Cancer."
The man took in a heavy breath and set the clipboard aside after crossing out a name. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat and rocked back on his heels, wrinkles forming above his nose when it crinkled.
"I'm afraid the tools available to us aren't quite advanced enough to do things like biopsies, but... I can tell you that cancer develops from a mutation that can be inherited. The chances for developing certain types of cancer are significantly higher when a close family member has it."
I'm going to die early someday, aren't I? It won't be from protecting someone or from getting bitten. It'll be my own body betraying me.
"Mm, my grandfather.. also had it. Uhm, pancreatic, I think."
His fingers tightened around his biceps, his nod slow, and his heartbeat picking up. The doctor grimaced, and (Y/N)'s throat tightened. That was bad. That was really bad.
"Is it, uhm..."
"Before the outbreak, pancreatic cancer was already hard to find and treat early due to the symptoms being subtle."
Great.
"Now? Most illnesses are nearly impossible to find unless you have access to certain equipment and know specialists who are willing to help. The most we can do when our residents have these illnesses is offer pain medication and try to make life a little easier for them."
(Y/N) stared at him for a moment longer, finding himself surprised to feel... nothing. He supposed he'd accepted it when he noticed Frank's condition worsening, accepted that he'd likely die from his body eating itself inside out.
Ironic, he thought. The world had fallen due to an abnormal, unnatural infection, and he'd die from one his own body created.
"These kinds of things vary from person to person." The doctor added, his voice soft with sympathy. "Some people live longer, others less. You're young, though. You have at least forty or more years before you should seriously start worrying about it. How old was your mother when diagnosed, may I ask?"
"My grandfather was.. was about sixty-something." (Y/N) dragged his tongue slowly over his top lip, his head tipping to look down at his snow-speckled boots. "My mother was my age. Twenty-nine, but she got treatment early. Went into remission a little before I was born, I think. It came back after the outbreak... and she died."
The doctor's grimace tightened. "I can.. attempt some basic tests, if you'd like-"
"I'm alright," (Y/N) said, his breath catching in his chest and making his voice strained. He gave a light shake of his head, breathily chuckling, and took a step back toward the door. "I was just curious. Have a nice day."
(Y/N) wasn't sure how long he'd spent wandering around Jackson, but by the time he returned to the house, it'd grown dark out. He walked through the front door and shut it behind him, brushing the snowflakes that'd fallen on his head and the shoulders of his coat. He shrugged it off his shoulders and draped it over the top of the coach, his fingers brushing over the staircase railing.
The sound of a loud thump and shouting froze him in place. He tilted his head upward to the upper floor, noticing light pouring out of what seemed to be Ellie's room.
Cautiously, (Y/N) headed up the stairs and leaned his shoulder against the door frame, peeking his head into the bedroom. Joel stood inside, his back to him, blocking Ellie from sight.
"What are you so afraid of?!" Ellie asked, and (Y/N)'s brows furrowed.
What was all this about? Just a couple of hours earlier, everything had been perfectly fine.
"I'm not her, you know." The silence was heavy, palpable, and (Y/N) winced, his lips rolling into his mouth. He knew immediately who she was talking about. "Maria told me about Sarah and-"
"Don't." Joel's voice was tight, sharp. "Don't say another word."
(Y/N)'s eyes dropped to Ellie's shadow across the floorboards, watching it grow whilst she took small steps toward Joel. "I-I'm sorry about your daughter, Joel. But I've lost people, too."
In a low voice, Joel said, "You have no idea what loss is."
(Y/N) heard Ellie's quiet, trembling scoff. "Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me. Everybody, fucking except for you!"
Joel's body stumbled backward with Ellie's shove, and (Y/N) straightened up, taking a step into the room and then to the side. Ellie's chest heaved, and her watery eyes darted toward him.
"He's leaving us!"
(Y/N) blinked, and Joel's head whipped around to look at him, his eyes wide. "What? What does that mean?" Leaving? They'd been traveling for months; how could he possibly think about leaving?
Ellie sniffled, furiously wiping her eyes. "I heard him-"
"You were eavesdroppin'." Joel hissed accusingly, as if that were the greater offense.
"-telling Tommy to take us to the Fireflies so he could go somewhere else!" Ellie revealed in a shout, her voice echoing in the otherwise silent house. (Y/N) stood there, breathless, processing what she'd said. What? What? "When were you going to tell us, Joel? When were you going to tell (Y/N)?"
Another batch of silence, minus Ellie's heavy breathing and the muffled, distant call of an owl outside. (Y/N) shut his eyes for a second, taking a few breaths to keep his heart calm and his mind clear from the threat of tears that threatened to rise in him.
He swallowed, finding his throat dry and his stomach empty, and raised his head to look at Ellie first.
"Get some rest." He told her curtly, curling his fingers on the sleeve of Joel's flannel and tugging on it so he'd stumble out of the bedroom. Ellie frowned at him with a quivering bottom lip, but he reached for the doorknob anyway. "We'll talk in the morning after a good night's sleep, okay? Goodnight."
The door shutting engulfed the hallway in darkness, and (Y/N) held onto the sleeve of Joel's flannel, unsure of what to say. He caught Joel's hand rising toward his wrist, and he pulled his hand away, turning around to head down the stairs. Joel's heavy footsteps followed him, long strides to keep up as (Y/N) made a beeline for his bedroom.
He unzipped his backpack and tugged out American Gods, spinning around to hurl it at Joel's chest. Joel flinched, staggering backward from surprise, and he caught the book before it could fall to the floor.
He stared at it in perplexity before his features smoothed out with realization, his head lifting with his parted lips. (Y/N) could see the gears turning in his head, the thoughts flashing in his eyes.
"You made a promise to Bill-"
Joel, at the very least, looked guilty. "I know-"
"No, you made a promise to Bill that you would watch over me, you said it yourself! And now, you're just going to up and leave? You can't- You can't do this. You can't. I can't keep gaining and losing family, Joel. It's not fair!"
His voice began to crack, his vision growing watery again. The dust in the room scratched at his throat, and he wiped away the tears with his fingertips. He was so exhausted of growing to love people, only to lose them, of opening his heart and having it scarred in return.
He rubbed his cheeks roughly until they ached, and turned away from Joel when he went to approach, prompting him to stay rooted in place.
"I have no one, Joel. No one. I've been orphaned twice over now. I lost my baby sister before she could even take her first breath. I watched my mother's body kill itself, and I watched Frank's do the same. Did you- Did you know Bill could've stayed? He could've stayed."
The desperation, the heat of betrayal, leaked into his voice when he spoke, and he knew Joel heard it because his face went slack again. (Y/N) took in a deep breath, his eyes blinking wide so the tears would fall quickly and not blur his vision.
"I saw it on his face that morning when Frank told him what he wanted. He was going to do what Frank wanted, and then it was going to be just us, but he put those pills into that fucking wine and drank it. I didn't know until after he drank it. I didn't fucking know!"
His following gasping, shuddering breath mixed with a whimper.
"Do you know what it's like to have to sit and smile and pretend like you're not dying inside? Because I do it all the time! I don't walk away when things get hard!"
Joel held the book tight in his hands, his thumbs rubbing over the corners of the worn-out pages, his chin tipped downward. "Ellie didn't hear everythin'-"
"That's not the point." (Y/N)'s voice softened into breathlessness, his head shaking. "You're not walking away from two strangers, Joel. We've been through so much together. We- I- I thought that- that we would go to the Fireflies, and then we'd come back here. There's- There's sheep and chickens, and the moon is always there. We can have a good life here."
"We, what we, (Y/N)? There is no 'we' in this." Joel's fingers curled around the spine of the book tight enough that his knuckles whitened. His nostrils flared, and he shook his head. "I can't do this, (Y/N). I can't."
"Why? I thought you cared-"
"I do care! That's the damn problem!"
Joel's voice boomed in the bedroom, and (Y/N) blinked wildly, the tears beginning to dry with his confusion.
"I care too damn much about you two! I-I could've shot Kathleen back in Kansas when she had you and Henry held at gunpoint, but I froze. The sight of you, injured and in trouble, it- it- it filled me with so much panic that I froze. The thought of you and Ellie in danger... It makes my blood run cold."
(Y/N) stared at him, his brows pulling together slowly. "And what's wrong with that, Joel? It's good that you care. We want you to care about us as much as we care about you. You may not be Ellie's father, but you're- you're like an uncle. I'm like an uncle to her. What's the problem?"
"When Sarah died, I wanted to be with her. I tried. I failed."
The air escaped (Y/N)'s lungs at Joel's quiet confession, his shoulders sagging. The anger he felt vanished into nothing. Joel pressed his lips into a line to stop them from quivering, his dark eyes glassy with unshed tears. He sniffled, almost whimpering.
"If somethin' happened to Ellie, I don't know what I'd do with myself. I can't go through that again."
"Joel-"
"And- And when Sarah's mom walked out on us and didn't look back, I told myself that that was it. Tess came along, and she healed wounds that I ain't even realized I still had left. She knew what it was like to lose a partner, a child. Then, she died, and I couldn't do anythin' to stop it. I told myself that maybe love jus' wasn't in the cards for me, and then, your smile... made me feel what I felt when I'd hear Tess laugh."
"... What?"
"And- And I know I shouldn't feel like this." Joel shook his head more rapidly, his fingers rising to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You're young, and you've got so much life left to live. Sarah- Sarah would've been older than you if she were still-" Joel cut himself off with a sharp inhale. "I care about you, (Y/N). But if somethin' happened, and I couldn't do anythin' to prevent it..."
Had the world stopped? It certainly felt like it.
(Y/N) stood deathly still, his body rigid and his brain struggling to piece together the puzzling words spewing from Joel's lips. His heart was in his ears, in his neck, thumping. His face grew warmer and warmer, and a fluttery feeling grew in his stomach.
Joel... liked him. Joel Miller... liked him? Joel Miller was so afraid of the idea of losing him, that he would rather disappear than deal with the possibility?
"Ellie's going to die someday." (Y/N) blurted out.
Joel's eyes shot up from the floor to stare at him, bewildered. "Huh?"
"Ellie's going to die someday. Tommy and Maria, too. All the people in this town. Me. You. We're all going to die someday. That doesn't stop us from living our lives, does it? That didn't stop Tommy from proposing and marrying Maria. That didn't stop the Fireflies from searching for a cure. Death... isn't preventable, Joel. It's a fact of life. You can't run from it. You accept it and make use of the time you have left."
(Y/N) raised and dropped his shoulders in a casual shrug, his head lolling to the side. He walked across the group in quiet, slow steps (because if he walked any faster, he suspected he'd topple over) and stopped in front of him, wiping the last of his tears away.
Joel stared at him, his eyes flickering between his, searching.
"Joel, my mother was diagnosed with cancer when she was my age. She didn't keel over to die. Even when it came back, she kept going, because she had people to live for."
With a hesitant hand, (Y/N) reached up to place his palm over Joel's shoulder, squeezing it. His lips tugged up in a little smile.
"I'm probably going to die of the same cancer that took her, and I likely won't know until my body's shutting down."
Joel's adams apple bobbed. "You serious?"
"Yes. Joel..." (Y/N) risked moving his hand up from Joel's shoulder to his cheek, his stubble tickling the soft skin of (Y/N)'s palm. "Do you really want to walk away from us and spend the rest of your life wondering how we are? Do you-"
His head felt so, so light. Joel Miller liked him.
"Do you really want to regret wasting time you could've spent with us?"
Joel's head leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest against (Y/N)'s. "... No, I don't."
omg have you seen the series "something very bad is going to happen"? TOT FOR ME ITZ SO COOL! please try it if you have the time. (totally not requesting immediately when your requests are open... totally not!)
UGH I JUST FINISH SEASON 2 OF THE PITT AND I NEED MORE FRANK LANGDON :(
I relate to him so much and seeing him actively displaying pain due to his chronic pain made me relate EVEN MORE, i do not think ill survive till January to see him again
The following morning, after a couple hours of rest and a change of lookout shifts, the three of them snuffed out their fire, collected their belongings, and set off toward the river of death as snow began to fall from the cloudy, gray skies.
It covered the ground in a crunchy blanket of pure white and clung to trees, leaving a freezing winter wonderland around them. Winter had once been his favorite time of year. It meant Christmas, festivities, a time for friends and family to come together, presents.
Now, it only meant that he was one step closer to having survived another year.
They stopped a couple of feet from the river's bank, their bodies hidden amongst the thick trees, waiting for any sign of the potential hostiles that lived on the other side. (Y/N) craned his neck, searching the other side for any bodies hidden amongst the brush and reeds.
Joel aimed at the sky with the rifle he'd taken back in Kansas, holding his breath in his chest and waiting a moment before he pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed and vibrated off the trees, sending flocks of birds scattering into the air in a panic.
"Still no people," Ellie said after a few seconds, her voice sing-song with smugness.
"Fine." Joel conceded with a light huff and stood up, studying the other side for a moment longer. Bits of snow fell from the fabric of his pants. "What're we thinkin', (Y/N)?"
(Y/N) fiddled with his gloves, deeming it too cold to go without them. He'd never seen or dealt with frostbite, but he'd heard plenty of horror stories about it. Skin turning blackish blue, muscles growing numb, and then hardening with tissue death.
Bill had told him tales of old acquaintances he'd known that'd had toes and fingertips amputated after developing frostbite while out hunting in the dead of winter.
(Y/N) shuddered just thinking about it.
"I'm thinking..."
(Y/N) stood up, his boots slightly sinking in the thick snow. He adjusted his rifle, pressing it to his chest where he could grab and aim with ease. He squinted through the faint morning fog, but he couldn't spot any marks on the ground.
"We walk around the river for a bit. If there's people-" He shot Ellie a sideways glance when she made a noise in the back of her throat. "-then chances are they're making their way over. Better to be safe than sorry."
"I agree." Joel nodded, surveying the area once more. "I say, we make our way toward that bridge. It's far enough that it'll give someone enough time to get to it. If it looks like there's no one on the other side, we cross." Snow clumps fell from the top of his backpack when he slid the strap further up his shoulder. "Sound good?"
Ellie gave a thumbs-up. "Yep!"
With his ears straining for noise, (Y/N) followed after Ellie and Joel, keeping to the trees in case he needed to duck behind one to avoid gunfire. Florence and Marlon had looked pretty genuine in their warning, but then again, who knew how long it'd been since they'd last seen bodies at the river's edge?
If Marlon was as cautious as he'd looked, he likely steered clear of the river to avoid unwanted attention. Maybe the hostiles had moved on to different lands.
The snowfall was a nuisance. It was hard to see into the distance, to look past the gray and white around them. Undisturbed snow had blanketed the bridge, and bubbling anxiety began to rise in (Y/N) when they made their way onto it.
It was metal, so the chances of rotted wood giving out beneath them were low, but metal rusted and bolts could grow loose.
Aside from a few creaks and gentle groans, the bridge held up, and his anxiety faded. They decided to stick to the river's edge for the time being, following its winding curves until the trees gave way to rolling, snowy hills where the snow began to melt into messier mush with the sun peeking out from behind the drifting clouds.
The snowfall let up, and (Y/N) allowed himself to gaze at the tall mountains that seemed to be everywhere he looked while Joel and Ellie made idle chit-chat over her inability to whistle and desire to learn how to hunt.
The sound of water falling reached their years, and they followed it, climbing up a hill until they reached the ridge overlooking a-
"Dam," Ellie announced, grinning like the devil at her little joke. (Y/N) couldn't help the knee-jerk need to roll his eyes.
"You're no Will Livingston," Joel commented dryly, his features deadpan.
Ellie laughed, her eyes jumping all over the structure that blocked part of the river on one end and poured some of its water out from the other end, feeding into the other half of the river.
"So, that made electricity?" She asked, her head cocking.
"Yeah," Joel answered, and then shot her a glance when she opened her mouth again. "Don't ask me. I don't have a single clue."
(Y/N) rocked back and forth on his feet when Ellie settled her questioning gaze on him instead. "Something about, uh..." He clicked his tongue. "Wheels? Or, uh, those things that have to be pushed with a lot of force to move and- I don't know. I know if it bursts, it can flood this whole area pretty quickly."
Ellie's brows shot up, her mouth falling open and eyes nearly bulging. "They can burst?"
"If they're not built properly or if something like an earthquake messes up the foundation, yeah. But this one's probably been up for longer than I've been alive, so... I'd say it won't be bursting anytime soon." (Y/N) told her, chuckling at the horrified shudder in her shoulders. He walked along the ridge's edge, following Joel's footprints. "All that water would easily wipe out a few of the nearby towns."
"Jesus," Ellie whispered. "Did that happen a lot? Before the outbreak?"
(Y/N) rolled his lips into his mouth. He hadn't been the type of kid who readily watched news segments or paid attention to the newspaper. He'd preferred watching the morning cartoons.
"I don't... think so. If a dam failed, people got hurt, and then there'd be lawsuits against whoever built it. Everyone hated lawsuits." Joel huffed out a quiet chuckle ahead of them. "And nobody liked losing money."
"Huh."
Ellie slid her hands into the pockets of her navy blue coat, her head tilting out toward the river on the other side of the dam. Her brows began to furrow.
"Hey... why's the river crazy blue on this side?" (Y/N) looked out at the river. It was a more noticeable blue than the greenish tint of the water on the other side. "What if... this is the river of death."
Joel slowed to a stop and tugged the map out, his lips puckering slightly as he unfolded it. His eyes jumped around, searching for the red lines meant to indicate rivers on the map, searching for the spot Marlon had pointed out to them.
(Y/N) peeked over Joel's shoulder, rattling his memories, but he pulled a blank. Joel looked up and glanced around for landmarks, muttering under his breath.
(Y/N)'s gaze shot up when movement came over the hill ahead. "Joel." He hissed, his hand grabbing and tugging at Joel's elbow insistently, his skin somehow feeling colder at the sight of multiple people on horses galloping toward them.
Seemed like they had heard the gunshot.
Joel shoved the map back into his pocket clumsily, his arm shooting out to push them both behind him. (Y/N) staggered on his feet, his fingers grasping Ellie's shoulders until she was securely squished between them.
The strangers pointed guns at them, primarily long-distance rifles and shotguns, their bodies steadied atop the horses. Their horses neighed and huffed, stomping their hooves in the mushy snow.
"We don't want no trouble!" Joel called out to them, his hands raised high up in the air. (Y/N) and Ellie copied his movements.
"Drop the guns!" One man shouted in response, his voice muffled beneath the bandana he wore around the lower half of his face.
(Y/N) swallowed and slipped the rifle strap from his shoulder, tossing it to the side when Joel tossed his. His eyes lingered on his own rifle where the initials carved into it stared up at the sky.
"You two-" The man moved his gun between (Y/N) and Ellie. (Y/N) heard Ellie's sharp inhale. "Take five steps back. Now."
Joel's fingers twitched, curling slightly. His head turned, notably taking a dry swallow before he spoke. "You'll be alright." He reassured them softly. "Do as he says. It'll be okay."
Slowly, (Y/N) counted his steps backward. One, two, three, four, five. His eyes bounced from hidden face to hidden face, trying to figure out what their angle was.
They could've easily shot them down; they had enough gunmen surrounding them to ensure a kill shot. If they had the slightest moral compass, they'd spare Ellie. (Y/N) hoped so.
"You been near infected?" The man questioned, his aim settling back on Joel.
Joel shook his head. "There's none out here."
"Like hell there ain't." He sneered and tilted his head over his shoulder, his sharp whistle loud in the empty valley.
One man on foot hurried over the hill with a leashed dog in hand that barked and pulled on the leash, snapping its jaws furiously. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat in his chest.
"Last chance for a bullet. If you're infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up."
(Y/N) noticed the tiny step Ellie took back and gave a subtle shake of his head. If the dog had been trained to detect and maul infected, it'd surely been trained to chase and attack anyone who ran. Her eyes widened at him pleadingly, her breath coming out quicker when the handler unclipped the leash from the dog's vest.
It hurried up to Joel and sniffed furiously at his shoes, taking a few deeper breaths of his pant leg before it rose up onto its back legs to press its front paws over Joel's stomach. Its handler clicked his tongue, and the dog retreated to his side. The gunman motioned to (Y/N), and the handler pointed him out.
Similarly, the dog trotted over to sniff at his boots and pants. Its tail wagged, and (Y/N) couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped him when the dog reared up on its back legs to prop its paws on him.
It gave a little, gentle yip, no longer looking as threatening as before, now that (Y/N) could look into its big, dark eyes.
"Like I said, we don't want no trouble," Joel said, his shoulders lowering slightly when the dog returned to its handler. "We'll just move on."
Come on. Come on.
The gunman looked toward Ellie, jerking his gun in her direction. "Now her."
(Y/N) held his breath, his eyes tracking the black shepherd. Its head lowered cautiously, its footsteps slow as its nose twitched and wiggled, sniffing the air around Ellie. (Y/N) glanced at his rifle and then at the people around them. No use in trying to reach it before the dog could potentially single Ellie out; he'd be dead before he even picked it up from the ground.
His gaze returned to Ellie, and she met his eyes again. The dog's tail slowly began to wag as it got around to sniffing her boots, and she let out a trembling breath, lowering her hand for the dog to sniff.
The dog's ears flew back, pinning against its skull as its tail began to wag harder. With a little giggle, Ellie lowered down, rubbing the dog's head and laughing when it lapped at her face.
(Y/N) let out a soft breath of relief. Whatever it was in her blood that prevented the infection from growing, it'd saved her life yet again.
"You just bought yourself ten more seconds." The gunman informed them, his voice notably less harsh. "What're you doing out here?"
The tension in Joel's shoulders lessened. "I'm just looking for my brother."
"Ho!" A woman's voice followed, her tongue clicking to prompt her horse forward toward them. She squinted at Joel, her brows furrowed tightly. "What's your name?"
Joel frowned. "Joel."
The woman's chin tipped upward, and she looked at her companion, speaking quietly. The gunman's brows tightened, and he studied the three of them for a moment longer before slowly lowering his gun.
He gave what seemed to be a reluctant nod and cleared his throat, flicking his wrist. One of the riders got off his horse and collected the guns from the ground, tugging on the reins of his horse until he stood in front of Joel.
"You're coming with us." The woman told them, her tone leaving no room for argument or debate. "There's someone you need to meet."
(Y/N) answered Ellie's perplexed stare with a light shrug and motioned for her to come when another rider offered him their horse. He climbed onto the saddle and helped Ellie climb onto the back, ensuring her arms were tight around his waist. He gripped the reins, his stomach naturally doing flips when the horse walked forward on its own, following the rest.
First time for everything. He never considered how... weird it'd be to ride a horse. It was a sensation he couldn't describe, his body both elevated from the ground, but not so far enough to induce the natural queasiness of heights. He swallowed down the yelp that threatened to come out when the horse quickened its pace into a light jog to keep up with the others, his nose crinkling.
The group took them through the hills and a small section of forest that broke out into a big, sparse clearing. Up ahead, (Y/N) made out a tall, wooden wall that looked miles long. One rider lifted a bandana and waved it around until the gates opened for them, the horses slowing down into a brisk walk. (Y/N)'s brows raised.
Within the walls was a town filled with people walking the streets, heading in and out of the differing shops lining the main street. It was odd, he realized, seeing so many people in one spot.. thriving.
There were children trailing after their parents, teenagers building snowmen and occasionally throwing snowballs at each other, seniors being pushed around in wheelchairs or carefully walking with canes. A community. A real one.
It reminded him of Lincoln, of all the times he'd sit on the curb and look around the desolate town, wondering what it'd looked like before the outbreak.
Ellie swatted at his side insistently, laughing breathlessly, her head whipping around each and every way to take everything in. (Y/N) smiled to himself, gazing over the wreaths and garlands hung up on store windows or on doors. They were preparing for the holidays, as if everything were normal again.
Joel tugged gently on his horse's reins, his back straightening with his attention locked on one of the men working on helping lift a wooden pillar. "Tommy!" He called to the man, his voice almost breaking.
The man, his brother, Tommy, looked up, freezing in place with surprise. He spotted them and moved without a second thought, hurrying down the steps as Joel climbed off his horse.
The two men broke out into light jogs until their bodies collided, their arms swinging around each other and their feet stumbling from the hard embrace.
For the first time since meeting him, (Y/N) heard Joel laugh, bright and joyful. Emotional. (Y/N)'s smile widened. It was a sweet sound.
"Can we even trust these people?" Ellie asked quietly.
(Y/N) licked his lips, taking another look around. "Maybe. I'm not sure." He replied, reaching back to tap her knee. She steadied her hands on his shoulder and began to climb off the horse. "But we can trust Joel."
Ellie puckered her lips and stared at the two brothers. "Right."
Tommy and the woman, Maria, as she'd introduced herself when the horses were led away, took them to the dining hall, where they were served a plate full of warm, real, belly-filling food. They eagerly dug in, and (Y/N) hummed pleasantly, chewing on the baked potatoes and thick sausage slices. His stomach hungered for more, and he happily obliged.
Maria blinked slowly, her brows raised high. "There's more if you need it."
"Thank you, ma'am." Joel's voice was gentle, that southern charm (Y/N) had heard about bleeding out. He almost couldn't recognize the Joel sitting beside him. "It's been a while since we've last had a proper meal."
"I don't think I've ever had a proper meal." Ellie took a breath, her next spoonful ready to be shoved in her mouth. (Y/N) brought his glass of water to his lips. "This is fucking amazing."
(Y/N) managed to stop himself before he could choke on his water, holding it in his cheeks and swallowing it down slowly. His eyes jumped to Tommy and Maria, who stared at Ellie with strained looks. "We shouldn't curse at the table, Ellie." He mumbled to her, wiping his lips with his sleeve. Bill and Frank may have allowed it, but his mother would've swatted him over the head for cursing in general.
"Yes, Ellie," Joel shot her a subtle look, and he gave his brother and Maria an apologetic grimace. "Let's mind our manners."
Ellie huffed softly and shoved some more food into her mouth, chewing quickly and irritably. (Y/N) took another gulp of water and scraped the last of his food onto his fork, bringing it to his lips as Ellie leaned forward slightly, her eyes locked on a young girl around her age peeking out from behind a pillar across the room.
"What?" Ellie barked, and the girl flinched back with wide eyes, quickly turning and hurrying away. Ellie scoffed. "What about her manners?"
"She's just curious," Maria explained gently. "Kids around here don't usually look or talk like you."
"Right... well, maybe I'll teach them." Ellie brushed her hair out of her face, ignoring the wide-eyed, shut-the-hell-up stare Joel gave her from around (Y/N). Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And I want my gun back."
Maria's features remained cooled, relaxed. Unbothered. "They also aren't armed."
(Y/N) swallowed down the rest of his food and straightened up, pushing his plate forward slightly so he could rest his arms over the table. "I'd like my rifle back." He piped up, looking between the two of them. "It's... important to me."
"We'll see." Maria's smile was polite, not quite reaching her eyes.
(Y/N) frowned, his heart leaping to his throat and his head tilting to look at Joel beside him with his brows pulled together. Joel shifted in his seat at the sight of his face, the so-called puppy eyes seemingly working their magic on him. He cleared his throat, his hand dropping to pat his knee reassuringly.
"I'm sure we'll work somethin' out, (Y/N), yeah?" Joel spoke quietly, softly, and (Y/N) deflated, his cheeks tinging with heat when he noticed the squinted-eyed look Tommy wore. Joel's fingers lightly squeezed the top of his knee. "You'll see it again. Don't worry."
"It belongs to his dead father." Ellie bristled at Maria, her lip curling slightly. (Y/N)'s lips parted, and he reached out, setting his hand over her back in hopes of soothing the bubbling rage visibly building up inside her. "It's important. Just give it to him."
Joel scowled. "Ellie."
"Alright, you know what?" Tommy straightened up, his breathy chuckle a tad awkward. He was a handsome man, with dark, wavy hair that reached to his earlobes, dark eyes that resembled Joel's, and a thick mustache above his upper lip. His skin was fair, like Joel's, and they shared a similar build. "I think y'all got off on the wrong foot-"
"She was going to have her guys kill us! You got a couple of 90-year-olds shitting themselves out there. They say that you leave dead bodies around?"
"Ellie, hey."
(Y/N)'s fingers reached up to lightly tug on her ponytail, and he arched a brow at her when she gave a light yelp and whipped her head around to look at him.
"I get it, okay, but we have plenty of time for questions. Right now, you need to fix your attitude and finish your food... and don't talk with your mouth full."
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever."
Maria's fingers drummed on the table, her gaze coasting amongst the three of them, observing. Analyzing. The brains of the operation, from the looks of it, or at least someone very trusted by whoever called the shots.
"The dead bodies are the people who tried us, who refused to comply as you guys did."
"A bad reputation doesn't mean you're bad," Tommy added, cracking a smile for them.
Joel chewed his food and swallowed the last of it, washing it down with his water. "Ma'am," He began, dusting crumbs off his fingers and clearing his throat. "We’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family."
"Well, uhm.."
Tommy sat up in his chair, one arm bracing over the table while he extended his other to Maria, taking her hand in his. The matching golden bands on their ring fingers proved hard to miss when their hands curled around each other.
"Maria is family, actually."
(Y/N) took a sip of his water in the awkward, heavy silence that followed, whilst Joel stared at their hands with an unreadable look on his face. He rubbed his lips together, gently setting the cup down and jerking his elbow to bump Joel's side.
He tucked in his chin, whispering to him, "Say congrats, Joel."
Joel's hands curled into fists. "Congrats." He forced out through gritted teeth, and (Y/N) wasn't sure why it'd been tightly spoken or why his shoulders had grown tense again.
Anger toward himself for missing out on his baby brother's wedding, or the fact that it was Maria he'd married?
Tommy rolled his lips into his mouth. "Well," He exhaled with an airy, forced chuckle. "How 'bout a tour?"
The community, Jackson, had been created around seven years prior. They'd built off the gated community where most of the houses resided, building and building until they managed to create a small town within the wooden walls on all sides.
Being in the middle of nowhere and in the back country kept them mostly safe from raiders, and they only dealt with a few infected every once in a while. The dam provided their electricity and clean water.
They were tight, strict. It seemed like communicating with anyone beyond the walls was prohibited, deemed a safety issue, and from the sounds of their 'bad reputation', they were likely picky about who they allowed in, and who they allowed to actually stay.
It sounded selfish, purposely staying out of the radar of anyone else when they had a safe haven, but it was only safe because of that.
They housed various animals that were bred and used for different necessities, amongst them sheep that delighted Ellie. (Y/N) grinned at the sight of a little baby clumsily racing after its herd, its long, floppy ears swinging around with its hurried pace, before his attention drew toward the multiple greenhouses set up nearby.
Jackson was practically perfect.
"No one person's in charge," Maria revealed to them, her breath visible in the air with the sun beginning to set and the temperature dropping. "I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting."
Tommy tucked some hair behind his ear. "Everything you see in our town… greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership."
Joel rubbed his gloved hands together, humming. "So, uh, communism."
"Nah, nah," Tommy scoffed, offended. "It ain't like that."
Maria glanced back at her husband with a faint grin. "It is that. Literally. This is a commune. We’re communists."
(Y/N) tried not to laugh at the realization and horror that rapidly dawned on Tommy's face, stifling a snort and covering it up with a cough when he slowed down and stared down at the ground.
His amusement quickly morphed into awe when Ellie quickened her step to rush over to the stables, where a foal peeked its head out to look at them.
"Oh, Joel, look."
He laughed giddily, his eyes widening with amazement. He'd never seen a foal before, not in person at least. Gently, he brushed his fingers over its- her snout, his lips stretching into a smile so big it made his cheeks ache.
The foal tilted her head back, curious, her nostrils flaring with each inhale. Ellie giggled, scratching the underside of the foal's snout.
"We can get you guys settled in on the house across from ours," Maria revealed, her hands sliding into the pockets of her coat and her eyes flickering between her husband and Joel. "I can take Ellie and (Y/N) over there while you two catch up?"
(Y/N) turned to look at Joel, his smile dying down when he noticed the tightness had returned to his face. He dropped his hand from the foal and turned his body to face him, his head tilting to the side questioningly.
He expected Joel to be over the moon about reuniting with his brother and discovering a completely functioning, self-sufficient community, but he looked as if he'd bitten into something bitter.
"Sure." Joel breathed out, nodding, his eyes downcast. "Ellie, stick with (Y/N). I'll see you guys soon, yeah?"
(Y/N) nodded, despite his uncertainty. "Yeah... yeah."
that “negative kudos” poll really got me lol i have a full time job and a family. do you know what that means lol. I don’t think many people know what that means? it means i have maybe 1 hour MAYBE 2 hours a day that are mine unless i sacrifice sleep. and i use them to write fic most of the time and then i chose to post it online. And there is a subset of people that exists out there that thinks they can and should be able to publicly dislike or negative kudos your fic if they don’t like it instead of just continuing to scroll or hitting back. man no wonder so many people are so easily turning to AI, this unfeeling unflinching thing that just gives and gives more and more slop but who cares about the quality or the person who made it as long as you can just demand more and more and be given more and more. Fic and fanart are not products, you do not get to “review” them. We call it commenting because it’s not a review. And kudos doesn’t reflect on quality, it means thank you for sharing. if you feel the need to complain about something someone used their precious and rare and still valuable time to create for you for free, keep scrolling or literally just die
CW/TW: Mentions of Henry and Sam's deaths, bit of a filler chap
~~~
On the road, it was hard to keep track of the time that passed. The days and weeks blurred together without anything to help them count the days, but despite the time that came and went, Henry and Sam's faces appeared whenever (Y/N) blinked.
He tried to focus on the happy memories they'd created with the brothers, the joyful moments of joking around and having a fleeting moment of normalcy.
Each time he managed to focus on Sam's echoing giggles and Henry's bright smile, he'd remember the gut-wrenching sight of their bodies.
He knew that, at the very least, a handful of months had gone by. Maybe three or four; the temperature had grown colder until they were layering coats over jackets, listening to the crunching of snow beneath their shoes, and trying to stay out of the way of blankets of snow that fell from branches. He remembered the motel vividly, regardless.
The blood splatters on the wall beside Henry, the puddle beneath Sam. It'd been nauseating to pick up little Sam effortlessly, his body reduced to little fat and muscle from days of rationing his food.
His eyes had grown cloudy from the infection, and he'd spotted where the fungus had begun taking root in his head from the long, winding growths beneath the skin along his cheeks and temples.
His lips had been bloodied, as if he'd been anxiously nipping on them, maybe trying to distract himself from the fever that'd taken hold over the night. The infection took children faster; less body to travel through.
They'd been easier to bury after Joel wrapped them in the old motel blankets, blocking their lifeless faces from sight.
(Y/N) remembered how quickly Ellie's tears dried once she'd calmed, how slack her face went with resignation whilst she helped dig the graves. She'd been so vibrant, so giddy with childlike glee over being around another kid.
She recovered, eventually. She resumed her jokes and pestering, but the heaviness remained, the weight of the deaths lingering over them. She stared off into space sometimes, her mind elsewhere.
"You look troubled."
(Y/N)'s gaze lifted off the wooden floorboards beneath his feet, his hands tingling from the warm bowl of stew he'd finished a moment prior. The first home-cooked meal he'd had in a while, and it'd been delicious.
Florence continued to rock back and forth on her chair, as she'd done when they'd entered her home unannounced. For a woman technically being held hostage, she looked completely and utterly relaxed in their presence.
Her head lolled to the side to look at Joel, who'd raised his head away from the map to stare at (Y/N) intently after Florence's words.
It'd been about a week or so, maybe more, since they'd arrived in the general area of Cody, Wyoming. The city of Cody itself had been lost to the infected, possibly for years, from what they'd seen from a safe distance.
There'd been no sign of real, living people, and without another address or general location to search, they'd been forced to wander around aimlessly.
They'd happened across the quaint cabin nestled amongst the tree line by chance, and they waited in the brush until Florence's husband left to force their way in. Joel hoped that maybe his sense of direction had been wrong, that maybe he'd been mistaken.
He was worried, (Y/N) could tell. The look on his face when they'd seen what remained of Cody had been pure devastation.
(Y/N) had felt partially bad for taking Florence hostage, but she'd barely reacted to them invading her home. She'd only stood up from her seat to make them some stew out of her own free will. Maybe Ellie's presence reassured her they wouldn't do anything drastic with a kid present. Maybe she simply couldn't be bothered to care.
"Your husband looks troubled." She told Joel, her thumb bending to rub the wedding ring on her finger. (Y/N)'s teeth nipped at his inner cheek, and he shot Ellie a look when her lips curled up impishly. "Trouble in paradise, hm?"
"None of your business," Joel answered curtly, his fingers lacing together as his attention dropped back onto the map. His brows tightened, his eyes jumping up, only to quickly divert when they met (Y/N)'s. "We'll be out of your hair once your husband comes back."
"How long you been together?" Florence asked without missing a beat, her rocking chair creaking gently with the movements. "Marlon and I got married long before all this happened."
"None of your business," Joel repeated, slightly exasperated, and he looked up at Ellie, jerking his head toward the window. She giggled and spun around, squinting through the frosted glass to search for any sign of Marlon. "We're not here to chit-chat, alright?... He's fine."
Joel's eyes met his again, his brows twitching and dipping as if to ask, Right?
"I'm fine." (Y/N) nodded, reaching out to the square, hand-crafted coffee table and setting his bowl down. "How long does it take your husband to hunt?"
Florence shrugged, her lips puckering slightly in thought. "Not much... usually an hour or so. The hares are harder to spot with their winter coats, but Marlon knows what he's doing. He's got traps and all that." She waved her hand dismissively. Her attitude was admirable, if he were honest.
"I think..." Ellie piped up, squinting and bringing her face closer to the window until her breath visibly fogged it up. (Y/N) faintly made out a dark, lumbering figure moving amongst the trees. "I see him! He's coming back."
Joel rose to his feet and tugged his revolver from its holster, checking the chamber. They were lucky; the infected slowed down during the colder months, meaning they could save up on ammo more.
"Go wait upstairs, Ellie. Do not come down unless we tell you to, okay?" He instructed, raising his brows at her when she dragged her feet toward the staircase. "Move."
Ellie blew a raspberry, tossing her hands up. "Okay, okay!"
Florence cracked a fond smile, her eyes following Ellie as she bounded up the stairs leading into what (Y/N) presumed was the lofted bedroom. "Cute kid." She complimented with a soft chuckle.
"Not ours." Joel sharply answered her following unspoken question.
Standing up, (Y/N) slipped the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and followed Joel into the small kitchen, where they could hide behind a wall while they waited for Marlon to enter his home.
There was muffled thumping outside, followed by a cold breeze blowing into the cabin when the door opened. Florence steadily watched her husband, her mouth pressed into a neutral line. She made no move to warn her husband, hardly even moved at all.
Joel waited until Marlon turned around to place his bow and arrows on a small table by the door, taking slow steps out with his revolver aimed at Florence.
Marlon tossed his gloves off and turned back, his attention settling on his wife as he unzipped his camo coat and parted his lips to speak, still unaware of their presence.
Joel spoke first, prompting (Y/N) to aim the rifle at Marlon. "And the gun."
Marlon's gaze darted toward them, surprised, his brows lifting briefly. "Who the hell are you?" He questioned, raspy with the voice of someone who enjoyed (or used to) a few cigarettes a day.
His voice was deep and aged, and given Florence's earlier words, he must've been quite a bit older than both of them. Potentially in his mid to late seventies. He looked inconvenienced, at most.
"We're jus' passin' through," Joel replied, his strides wider and looser with Marlon aware of their presence. He glanced back at (Y/N), and (Y/N) moved toward Marlon, extending one hand out to him. "Take out the gun, two fingers only, and hand it to my friend."
Marlon, thankfully, decided to do as told, pinching his gun with two fingers and raising it for Joel to see before he placed it in the middle of (Y/N)'s palm.
(Y/N) curled his fingers around it, ensuring to keep them away from the trigger, and stepped back to set the gun out of reach from him. Florence continued rocking in her chair.
Marlon pursed his lips at his wife, his eyes faintly half-lidded with tiredness. "Why didn't you shoot 'em?"
"The gun's all the way over there." Florence nodded to the other end of the cabin, and Marlon's chest heaved with a sigh. She added, somewhat sarcastically, "They didn't hurt me, by the way."
"Yeah, I've got eyes." Marlon huffed, approaching one of the chairs. His head tilted downward toward the table, his nose twitching. "You made 'em soup?"
"Yeah, I did," Florence confirmed with a little shrug, and Marlon shook his head in disbelief, taking a seat across from her. "It's cold out."
Ignoring their little back and forth, Joel cleared his throat, sparing (Y/N) a glance. "I'm lookin' for my brother."
"Well," Marlon took his hat off, shaking the specks of snow that'd fallen on it. He crossed his ankles and leaned back in his chair, little clumps of snow falling from his boots. "I haven't seen him."
"I haven't told you what he looks like." Joel pointed out, his eyes narrowing slightly with a flicker of annoyance.
"He look anything like you?"
"A bit."
Marlon sniffed. "Then I ain't seen him."
(Y/N)'s lips twitched upward, resisting the urge to chuckle, and he lowered his rifle cautiously. Maybe it was naive thinking, but the couple appeared relatively harmless.
They'd probably seen a fair share of things during their time in the woods, probably encountered plenty of people more dangerous and reckless than them. (Y/N) wondered what it'd be like to live isolated in the woods away from everything.
"They've got a girl with 'em," Florence informed her husband with a little grin, her head tilting back to peer up at the loft.
It must've been a while since either of them had last seen anyone younger than twenty-five, because Marlon's brows shot up and he followed her line of sight.
Immediately, Ellie poked her head over the railing, strands of her hair hanging around her face. "Can I come down?" She asked, her pistol in hand and a big smile on her face.
Joel clicked his tongue when he looked up at her, his shoulders already slumping with defeat. "No."
Without another word, Ellie hurried down the stairs, and the older couple exchanged a chuckle when Joel sighed. (Y/N) slid the strap of his rifle around until it was hanging at his side, despite the look Joel shot him, and offered Ellie a little grin when she came to a stop beside him. Joel puckered his lips, his eyes flickering between them.
"Who's this little psycho?" Marlon asked, a light teasing tone in his voice.
"Never mind her." Joel sighed again and approached the coffee table, spinning the map to face Marlon before he tapped on it with his finger. "I need you to tell us where we are."
Marlon propped his elbows up on the armrests, his head tilting. "If you got a map, why you lost?"
"Must've missed the street signs in the enormous fucking forest." Ellie huffed, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face.
He blinked. "Ho-ly."
Marlon and Florence shared a laugh, barely phased by the snippy tone in Ellie's voice. (Y/N) glanced around the cabin, but there were no signs of the two of them having had kids at any point.
There weren't many pictures, to begin with, amongst all the clutter. Coats and various types of hats strung up on the walls, oil lanterns scattered around, furniture that looked either hand-made or second-hand.
Most people who'd been around before the outbreak buried their past lives in boxes or reduced them to ashes. Anything to rid themselves of the hopeless longing for what life had once been for them, anything to forget about the loss of loved ones.
Forgetting was easier said than done, especially for those who lost children.
A floorboard protested under Joel's weight when he bent down, circling an area of the woods on the map with his fingertip. The broken watch he never took off glinted in the sunlight coming in through the window.
"We're somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife's."
Marlon looked away from Joel to stare at his wife. "Did you tell him the truth?"
A soft creak from the rocking chair. "Yeah."
"Are you tellin' me the truth?"
"..Yeah."
Marlon looked between the three of them, his chest rising with a deep inhale, before he leaned forward to tap the same spot Florence had when they'd first presented her with the map. (Y/N) and Joel exchanged a glance, and (Y/N) felt a pang of sympathy in his chest.
Energy had been buzzing in Joel's body since they realized they were close to Cody, energy and anticipation that'd promptly died underneath worry.
Shoving his revolver back in his holster, Joel slumped down on the couch again. "Well, you've found a great place to hide." He told them tightly, his teeth gritted, one hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose. (Y/N) took a seat beside him and bumped their knees together, hoping it'd give Joel a little bit of comfort.
"Hide?" Marlon chuckled dryly. "Came here before you were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody."
"I didn't want to." Florence piped in.
"Eh," Marlon waved her off. "Listen, I didn't mean to upset you about your brother, but if you've come this far, then you know what's out there. You seen Cody?"
"It's overrun," (Y/N) muttered.
Marlon grimaced, a heaviness growing in his voice. "Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can't go there no more." He shook his head, his eyes lowering to the ground. Florence sighed quietly.
Joel swallowed, his hand falling away from his face. "So you haven't heard the name 'Tommy'?"
Marlon shook his head. "Nope."
"What about the Fireflies?" Ellie asked next, settling down on the couch's armrest, her hopeful eyes jumping between the two.
"We get those in the summer," Florence said.
"Not the bugs, the people!"
Her head cocked to the side. "There are firefly people?"
Another shared laugh between the couple, answering their question. They'd probably never even encountered someone from the group, let alone spoken to them. From what (Y/N) gathered, the Fireflies were pretty loud and proud about their organization, about their cause. The QZ from his youth hadn't lasted long enough to hear of the resistance group.
Ellie viewed them fondly, spoke of a woman named Marlene who apparently led the resistance against FEDRA and the military oppression. Joel considered them more of a nuisance, people with big dreams and little idea how to properly execute said dreams.
The cause seemed noble and understandable enough, but it'd been nearly twenty-one years, and there seemed to have been little success on their side.
Lacing his fingers, Joel looked up at Marlon. "You got any advice on the best way west?"
"Yeah," Marlon's chair creaked when he leaned forward to rest his arms over his knees. "Go east. But you never go past the river here." He extended his arm to point out the river, tracing it with his finger. His gaze lifted to assess them, his face serious. "Ever."
Unease bubbled in (Y/N)'s stomach. "Why?"
"We never seen who's out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not." Florence explained, turning her head to look at Joel. "If your brother's west of the river, he's gone."
(Y/N) peered down at the map again. There was a good chunk of land west of the river, expansive enough that there was a chance more people were living isolated from the chaos of the world.
If the couple was being truthful, which (Y/N) believed they were, perhaps people were taking their safety to the extreme by getting rid of anyone who got too close to their home. Could (Y/N) blame them?
"You don't scare us." Ellie scoffed.
Florence cracked a grin, jerking her chin toward (Y/N) and Joel. "Scared them."
After gathering their belongings and taking some things Florence insisted on them having despite Marlon's grumbling, they bid the couple goodbye and left their cabin.
(Y/N) rubbed the palms of his hands together furiously, the icy coldness around them nipping at his cheeks and trying to sink beneath the layers of clothing he wore. Two hares were strung up by the door, limp and cold.
The snow crunched beneath his boots, and he unconsciously followed the footprints Joel left behind. The Fireflies needed Ellie, and the Fireflies were west. Marlon and Florence hadn't been clear on how far out west those beyond the river lived, or how far their territory expanded.
If they wanted to avoid them, they'd have to follow the river and hope the people on the other side viewed it as a territory boundary.
The door rattled shut, and (Y/N) looked over his shoulder at Ellie, his mouth forming a line when she grabbed one of the hares. "You don't seriously believe them, right?" She asked, and then noticed (Y/N)'s stare. "What? They don't need it." She motioned to the deer strung up around the corner of the house.
"They've been around here for ages, Ellie. They probably know this land like the back of their hands. We don't." (Y/N) said, reaching out to tug the beanie further down to conceal her forehead better. The last thing any of them needed was catching a cold in such horrible weather. "If they say there's danger across the river, there's danger across the river."
"They've never even heard of the Fireflies!" Ellie pointed out, gobsmacked, her fingers prodding at the beanie until it was a little bit above her brows before she fell into pace with (Y/N). "They don't know anything, (Y/N). How can we- Joel?"
Joel abruptly stopped and braced himself against the rickety wooden fence surrounding the cabin, his shoulders rising and falling with labored breaths.
The snow weighed on (Y/N)'s boots when he quickened his step, and he moved around Joel, cupping the sides of his face and searching Joel's face. Joel clutched at his chest, his nostrils flaring.
"Hey, hey, hey," (Y/N) gently squeezed his face, his thumbs running over the creases in his face. Joel's features constricted with a mixture of panic, confusion, and frustration. And pain. "Look at me, look at me. Breathe, okay? Deep breath in, hold it..."
Joel took in a deep breath through his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut whilst he held it in his lungs. (Y/N) counted the seconds, his own heartbeat picking up rapidly in his chest.
He'd never thought he'd seen Joel weakened, even if for a moment. He looked small, weary, his features tight as if the world were collapsing around them.
Tommy...
(Y/N) winced. He was certain the concept of Tommy being dead, either killed by a human or roaming around as an infected, had crossed Joel's mind plenty of times over the years apart, but the concept was close to being a reality now.
Oh, Joel..
"Okay, release it." Joel exhaled heavily, his body slumping alongside the air escaping his lungs. His breath was visible, coming out in a little cloud. His lips pressed together, and he inhaled through his nose, visibly calmer than before. "Good. Good. Are you okay? Do you need a moment?"
"I'm fine," Joel answered, his voice strained, his grip on the fence post tightening as he straightened up. His eyes followed (Y/N)'s hands when they pulled away from his face. (Y/N)'s fingers tingled.
"Take another breath and hold it."
"I'm fine." Joel cleared his throat, his hand falling away from his chest. "It- It was the cold air all of a sudden."
"Do it, Joel." Ellie insisted in a soft hiss, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Her eyes were wide with worry, and she took shallow, panicked breaths of her own. "The last thing we need is you dropping dead out of nowhere."
"Ellie," (Y/N) licked his cold, chapped lips. "Not helping."
"Sorry."
Reluctantly, Joel took in another deep breath, his brows twitching with discomfort. Winter, despite the beauty of snow-capped mountains and snowy trees, brought with it a lot of inconveniences.
The air became brittle, feeling like daggers each time someone took a breath, and it always managed to claw its way beneath fabrics to pinch and bite skin until it became numb.
But getting Joel's breathing under control was (Y/N)'s priority, regardless of how uncomfortable it was to breathe.
Joel had spent many days fussing over (Y/N)'s knee, and even after the aches and pains stopped. He'd taken one of the shovels they'd used to bury the brothers and beaten at the shoulder of the blade until it'd fallen off, double-checking that the wooden shaft was sturdy enough to bear weight before having (Y/N) use it as a makeshift cane.
Once the bruises had faded, Joel's concerned check-ins ceased, but (Y/N) occasionally noticed him watching his leg as if to ensure it wouldn't give out on (Y/N) suddenly.
Now, it was (Y/N)'s turn to repay the favor.
"Release it."
(Y/N) lifted his hand to press it over the spot on Joel's chest, his palm hard against the fabric, searching for his heartbeat. He met Joel's gaze, peeking into those dark eyes that always bore so many hidden emotions.
Joel stared back at him, the tightness in his face fading. The exhaustion he kept tucked beneath reared its head.
Beneath the vibrant winter sun, Joel still looked as handsome as ever. Streaks of grey hairs mixed with the short dark brown hairs on his head and along his jawline.
His skin had lightened some over the past few months, the summer tan fading with the sun's rays feeling less powerful, and their instincts coaxing them into hiding from the weather more.
His eyes lingered on the scar on Joel's temple that he never spoke about.
(Y/N) removed his hand and took a step back, scratching at his cheek a little sheepishly. "What's the plan?" He asked breathily, swallowing harshly and avoiding Ellie's teasing stare. "Are we still going west?"
"We have to," Joel answered gruffly, his eyes averting, the tips of his ears dusting with red. "We'll check out the river, see if we can spot anyone. They might've been exaggerating."
"Or making it up," Ellie grumbled, ducking beneath the partly broken fence and slinging the hare over her shoulder. She nearly slipped going up the small hill, but caught herself. "Let's go cross the death river."
By the time they reached a rocky hill overlooking the so-called river of death, the bright sky had begun darkening with a blue dark. The sight itself was beautiful.
The river was wide, bordered by a thick forest on one side and rocky hills with big, empty landscapes on the other. It was too risky to cross the river into potentially hostile lands in the dark, so Joel opted for them to settle near one of the few caves along the hills.
Using thick stones to create a little campfire area, Ellie collected twigs and short branches, dumping them in the center. (Y/N) lit the fire while Joel added more duct tape to one of his worn-out boots. (Y/N) took the hunting knife from Ellie and the hare, putting the skills Bill had once taught him to use.
Ellie held up the hare by its hind legs, and (Y/N) began to skin the hare along its belly first. It was odd, the sensation of cutting through fur and muscle before peeling it back. He considered the hide of the hare, but he was certain they lacked the tools necessary to make use of it, so he tossed it aside for any scavengers to pick on once they were gone. Ellie watched him intently, nodding along to his instructions.
Once ready, they skewered the hare and hung it over the fire, taking turns slowly turning it to ensure it cooked thoroughly.
Ellie tilted her head. "Bill taught you all of this?"
"Yep." (Y/N) chuckled. "He was prepared for the world to end, basically. He was mostly self-taught, but all his lessons were effective. While everyone else thought men like him were crazy, they're probably thriving right now. Or were, at least."
"You got lucky meeting him, then."
His smile widened. "Defintely."
Joel's head tilted back to peer up at the night sky above them as he set the duct tape aside. "You ever seen aurora borealis?"
Looking up, (Y/N) hummed softly at the sight of the shifting colors amongst the darkness. Greens with hints of purple looked as if they were swaying above them like waves.
He lowered his head and nodded to Ellie, taking over rotating the hare so she could stand and climb up onto a higher point nearby to watch the sky.
(Y/N) and Joel sat in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire and the distant sound of branches rustling together. (Y/N) used the tip of the knife to poke at the meat, checking how much longer it needed, before he dragged his knee up and propped his chin on it.
"Can I ask you something, Joel?" His voice was soft.
"Hm."
"You didn't correct Florence when she thought we were together," (Y/N) pointed out, already feeling silly for reminding him.
He distracted himself from the heat and tightness forming in his chest by taking the hare and cutting into it with a clean knife. The steam from the cooked meat caressed his face.
"Why?"
Joel similarly dragged his leg up slightly, propping his elbow on his knee. "It was none of her business." He said simply, taking a slice of meat and biting into it. "Did it make you uncomfortable?"
"No," (Y/N) replied quickly, shaking his head. Warmth bit at his cheeks, driving away the cold momentarily. "I just... with-" His throat tightened. Henry's smile flashed in his mind again, bright and youthful and full of hope for the future. "Back... Back in the motel, you... told him something else. The truth, I guess... I- Forget about it."
"Henry was... an ally. A friend, almost." Joel offered a flimsy half-shrug. He dug through his backpack and took out a flask they'd been given by the couple. He took a swing, smacking his lips afterward. "I don't know. It's... no big deal. We'll never see her again, anyway."
(Y/N) bit his inner cheek and shoved a piece of meat into his mouth, chewing quickly. "Right. Yeah." He licked his lips and brought two fingers to his mouth, whistling for Ellie. "Come get some food." He called out to her, pointedly avoiding meeting Joel's stare.
Ellie clambered down and plopped down by the fire, eagerly taking a few chunks of meat and eating them. "So, I've been thinking," She began, stopping briefly to properly swallow her food. "Let's say we find the Fireflies, it all works; they draw my blood, put it through some fancy machines, and make a cure. Then, what? What do we do?"
"We?" Joel repeated with a quirk of his brow.
Ellie rolled her neck, huffing softly. "Okay, fine, you. You can do anything you want. What are you doing? Where are you going?"
Joel thought for a moment, his fingers tapping along the edges of the flask. "Maybe... have an old farmhouse, some land. A ranch."
"Cool." Ellie nodded slowly. (Y/N) couldn't tell if she was genuine or not. "What kind?"
"Sheep. I'll raise sheep. They're quiet, do what they're told." Joel stared right at Ellie as he spoke, his face deadpan.
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, what about you, (Y/N)? What are you doing?"
"Uhm," (Y/N) chewed on his bottom lip, considering. "I... don't know. Live somewhere peaceful, quiet, but not far from people. I'd garden again. Raise chickens again. I'd like to get married, fall in love and all that. I'd... adopt kids or- or maybe foster. I think I'd be happy just... being in love. Being loved."
"Sappy."
"Uh-huh," (Y/N) twisted his leg around to lightly kick her thigh, chuckling as she laughed. Joel cracked a faint smile. "I was going to say you could live with me, but I changed my mind. You don't get to meet my chickens, vegetables, or my future husband."
"Not the chickens!" Ellie gasped playfully, her hand slapping over her heart dramatically. "Whatever will I do without your chickens!"
Joel scratched the nape of his neck, his gaze settling on the dancing fire. He rolled his lips a bit, finally clearing his throat to catch their attention again.
"You'd be invited to my ranch." He muttered, his lips forming a tight line. He almost looked... sheepish? "You could, uh... raise the chickens on the land. Garden."
"And his husband?" Ellie inquired, her slit brow arching near her hairline. "Where's he in this arrangement? Or are you saying you'll be taking up the title, huh? Maybe Florence was onto something back at the cabin."
(Y/N) shifted around, suddenly finding the ground uncomfortable to sit on. His heart squeezed in his chest, and he fiddled with the slices of meat, putting them on a clean handkerchief within reach of Joel and Ellie so they could continue eating.
"It's better to lie." He said, watching one of the sticks in the fire char. "If someone- if someone came looking for whatever reason, they'd be looking for a married couple. Not, uhm, not friends." His eyes cut to Joel. "Right?"
Joel's cheeks hollowed with a breath. "Right." He fiddled with the cap of the flask and tucked it back into his backpack, turning his attention to Ellie. (Y/N) ignored how it stung. "What about you? What're you doin'?"
Ellie's head rolled backward to look up at the bright full moon above them. "It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s an ocean, and ahead of you, there’s a wall. Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library: Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?"
Joel hummed quietly. "Sally Ride."
"Sally-fucking-Ride! Best astronaut name ever!" Ellie laughed again, her head lowering to watch the embers drift around, guided by the light breeze. Her smile grew strained, worried. Her eyes lost their spark. "It'll work, right? The vaccine?" She asked, her voice quiet, heavy.
"A little late to start wonderin'," Joel mumbled, and (Y/N) shot him a quick, light glare. He puffed out his cheeks a bit, and opened his mouth to speak again.
"I tried." Ellie looked down at the ground, her fingers pinching and rolling the laces of her boots. "With Sam... I... I knew he was infected. I rubbed some of my blood into his bite." She revealed grimly, her nose crinkling beneath their wide-eyed stares. "I know, I know. It was stupid.. I.. wanted to save him."
"Ellie..." (Y/N) sighed softly, reaching out to rub the top of her beanie. "Even with the vaccine, I don't think it would've worked. Vaccines are meant to prevent illnesses, to slow them down and make them less effective. It's not your fault. His and- and Henry's deaths are on nobody."
"Marlene's a lot of things, but she's no fool," Joel added, his arms folding over his stomach. "If she says they can do it, they can do it. Get some sleep, both of you. I'll take first watch."
(Y/N) offered Ellie a small, reassuring smile. "Get some rest, Ellie. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
CW/TW: Mentions of violence and death, suicide mentioned/heavily implied
~~~
Like most suburbs across the country after the outbreak, Westside North had been left to rot in the belly of Mother Nature.
Houses that'd once stood tall and vibrant, with owners who fussed over them and proudly showed them off to friends and family, now barely stood at all.
Some were crumbled, with their walls broken and scattered across the grass, or their roofs caved in from angry storm lashings and lack of care. Corpses of their own that'd once been the sanctuary to humans, hollow and forgotten.
(Y/N) often wondered about his childhood home. He assumed it'd suffered the same fate as the houses around them: unstable flooring, broken roof, battered walls, broken pipes, ravaged by the infected and survivors alike, no doubt.
He considered what might've come of his childhood friends, of his neighbors and teachers, of the distant relatives he'd scarcely seen.
His stepfather had gone to work the morning of the outbreak despite the cough he'd woken up with, and it was only later, when (Y/N) and his mother had settled down in the QZ, that he realized his stepfather had likely been infected by the cereal he religiously ate every morning.
They'd learned that certain flours, sugars, and grains had been unknowingly contaminated and then distributed across several countries.
(Y/N) tried not to think about the friends who'd likely woken up to freshly cooked pancakes or had been served a bowl of cereal without realizing what would happen in the next few hours. It'd been easier as a kid to not consider the small details, but as an adult, it became harder.
Had someone noticed the tainted crops, then perhaps their lives would've been easier. But he wouldn't have met Frank and Bill. He wouldn't have met Joel, either. Maybe little Ellie wouldn't have been born.
(Y/N) held those facts close to his chest as they strolled through Westside North, unable to stop himself from imagining what the families of each house looked like, what lives they'd lived before the world imploded around them.
He studied the cars left behind, the minivans and SUVs that stood frozen in driveways and scattered around the street, rusted and weathered or taken by roots and moss.
It was hard to see through the darkness around them. The sun had begun to set around the time they'd left the parking garage, and by the time they'd reached Westside North, darkness blossomed around them, and the stars sparkled in the sky.
Joel had instructed them to turn off their flashlights and use the moonlight to guide them. (Y/N) hated the dark. It hid so many things.
"I know." Henry abruptly said, and (Y/N) glanced over his shoulder, finding him signing along with his words for Sam. "No one is here. No one's going to be here because my plan worked." Smug, confident, and prideful. (Y/N) chuckled softly.
"So much goddamn talkin'," Joel muttered ahead of them, his head on a swivel, his eyes sharp and keen.
"Just saying! I delivered." Henry laughed gently, carefreely. "Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house... and we're out."
Relief came like a soft, warm blanket fresh out of the dryer. He'd feared the worst, given their circumstances, given the story behind the locals' frantic search for Henry and Sam.
A dead brother, and a few dead soldiers. That was enough to ruffle plenty of feathers, but they'd made it out. Bill's pessimistic attitude scratched at the back of his mind.
Don't celebrate early. Anything can happen. You're not out of the woods until you're a couple hundred miles from danger. You're not safe until that danger is eliminated. Permamnetly.
"So, we cross the river, and then what? Where are you gonna go? We're going to Wyoming." Ellie said, her smile easygoing.
Joel's head immediately whipped around to give her a hard stare, air rapidly leaving his nostrils with his deep, exasperated sigh. (Y/N) covered up his little laugh with a cough.
"What? It's a huge state! It can fit two more people."
"Yeah," Henry drawled, the amusement light in his voice. "Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells."
Ellie snickered. "No, he'll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes: He's, like, "No, Ellie! Never, ever happening!" and then-"
(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh into the palm of his hand at the deepened voice Ellie spoke in, his glance somewhat apologetic when Joel's head snapped in his direction, his mouth agape with disbelief.
It was ridiculous, and the amusement only continued to bubble up in (Y/N)'s chest the longer he took in Joel's look of utter betrayal.
"-I'll ask (Y/N), and (Y/N) will give Joel his puppy eyes- You've seen them before, right? Joel falls for them every time."
(Y/N)'s cheeks warmed, his hand falling to his side and head tilting downward to stare at the asphalt road beneath them. Were they puppy eyes? (Y/N) hadn't realized.
"And then Joel will say yes, obviously, and-"
A gunshot rang out, and they instinctively ducked, (Y/N)'s eyes darting to the ground a couple of feet to their right, where the bullet struck.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Joel spun around toward them, grabbing both (Y/N) and Ellie's backpacks and yanking them forward toward a car parked sideways on the street. (Y/N) spotted the spark from the bullet exiting the chamber from the window of the house at the end of the street as another gunshot echoed.
(Y/N) adjusted his rifle to his chest, his back pressing against the car. "It's the house at the end of the street." He told them, shifting around onto his knees and propping his rifle on the windowsill of the car, peering into the scope.
Too dark to make out anyone in the house.
"If this is their best sniper-" Another bullet that hit the edge of the car. "-then we might be okay."
"Can you see anythin'?" Joel asked, risking a peek. Another gunshot and the sound of metal being hit. "He's got shit aim."
(Y/N) brought his head a little closer to the scope and clicked his tongue in annoyance. "No, it's too dark inside the house. He's blending right in." He answered, his finger hovering over the trigger. "I can try to take a shot at him."
"Don't waste your bullets." Joel shook his head, twisting his body around to face them. "Alright, stay here, out of sight. If you don't move, he's not goin' to hit you. I'm goin' to go around, try to get into the house from the back, and then I'll take him out." Joel explained breathily, taking a moment to catch his breath and adjust his revolver.
"But if you go out there, he's going to kill you!" Ellie protested, her head whipping between him and (Y/N), her eyes widening at him in a look that screamed: You're going to let him do this?
"Nobody's going to kill me-"
"Then he's going to kill us!"
Ellie scoffed, her ponytail swishing around with her frantic head movements. She slapped her hand over (Y/N)'s arm, squeezing his elbow. Her big brown eyes were desperate, and the fear in them made his heart ache.
"(Y/N), this is crazy! Tell him it's crazy." Desperation coated her voice.
(Y/N) turned his head toward them, his lips rubbing together in thought. He met Joel's gaze, stared into the dark abyss that were his chocolate brown eyes, and found only self-assured confidence. Joel was wise and quick-thinking.
He'd lived more lives than he and Ellie combined, knew how to take care of himself and those other him.
"Ellie, he knows what he's doing," (Y/N) told her softly, reassuringly, and her lips formed a deep frown. "I'll take a shot at him, keep him distracted while Joel finds a way over, okay? You stay here, next to me, and we'll be okay, yeah? If I need you to do anything, I'll let you know."
Ellie's teeth caught her bottom lip, her head slowly bobbing in a reluctant nod. "Okay."
Returning his attention to the shooter, (Y/N) aligned his shot to the window. A smart sniper would try to remain out of sight, out of the way of returning fire, but given the way he took random, hopeful shots, their shooter might've easily been a rookie who hadn't expected any trouble.
He lined his shot to the center of the window, waiting for Joel to make his way to the other end of the car before he pressed down on the trigger.
He took two back-to-back shots to ensure the shooter would duck out of harm's way while Joel ran across to the street toward the sidewalk. He hurried through a couple of front yards and then ducked into the backyard of a house, disappearing into the chunk of woods surrounding the suburb.
(Y/N) lined his shot to the bottom of the house's windowsill, a flinch wracking through his body when the returning gunshot hit the car door.
He took a deep breath, holding it and then releasing it when he pressed on the trigger. The blanket of darkness, while providing them with much-needed coverage, prevented (Y/N) from checking if any of his shots had managed to hit their target.
Wasting any more bullets on a virtually invisible target would be a stupid choice, so he ducked back down.
"Do you think he's going to be okay?" Ellie asked quietly, her brows furrowing with concern.
"I think so," (Y/N) replied with a quick nod, the casings of the bullets he'd shot glinting underneath the moonlight.
Another gunshot, but it came from within the house, and they waited for another to come or for a sign from Joel. (Y/N)'s head raised at a distant shout that sounded oddly like Joel, and he clambered up onto his feet.
No gunshot. The sniper was dead, but the shouts continued, too faint for (Y/N) to properly make out.
His ears picked up something else instead, something that made his heart leap into his throat. The rumbling of engines drawing closer, alongside Henry's hissed curses and Ellie's choked gasp.
He whipped around, spotting the lights of the trucks and armored jeeps driving down the street, and then the loud clanging of the truck ramming into the cars scattered around.
Joel's shouting made a lot more sense when the word came from his own throat: "Run!"
Henry took Sam's hand in his, and (Y/N) grabbed Ellie by her forearm, the four of them breaking out into a frantic sprint away from the barreling truck while Joel shot at the windshield in hopes of shooting the driver.
They ran around cars only to hear those very cars crumble and squeal behind them, tumbling just out of their peripheral view onto the lawns and sidewalk.
Ellie yelped when the toe of her shoe was caught in a crack on the road that roughly brought her down on her knees. (Y/N) stumbled and turned, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her back up onto her feet right as the truck swerved to the side, its windshield cracked and splattered with blood.
It rammed cleanly through the front of a nearby house, nearly taking the whole structure down. The cars that'd been following the truck came to a screeching halt, voices overlapping as the survivors of the QZ poured out of them, armed to their teeth.
(Y/N) shoved Ellie forward, but they only managed to run a few feet toward Henry and Sam before the truck exploded, the shockwave sending them both tumbling down onto the ground.
(Y/N) hissed softly, his knee aching from where it'd slammed into the asphalt, but he forced himself to ignore it. The familiar crackling of fire and smell of thick, suffocating smoke filled his senses, his heart picking up in pace at the onslaught of memories that followed.
The rain. The fire. The pained cry from Bill when a bullet successfully struck him. (Y/N)'s eyes tracked the cloud of smoke rising into the air. It was too familiar a sight.
The spell broke when someone's hands slapped over his shoulders, his head jerking up to look at Henry. He frantically pulled them up onto their feet and pushed them forward to the car he and Sam had ducked behind when the truck crashed. Henry checked on Ellie first, looking her over for any bleeding or visible injuries, before doing the same to (Y/N).
"I'm fine," (Y/N) assured him, out of breath, despite the intense throbbing in his knee. Bruised, most likely. It'd hurt like hell for a few days, and then it'd be fine.
A man with a deep voice shouted out orders, and (Y/N) heard the thumps of footsteps rapidly approaching. They realized quickly their sniper had died, and whoever the man was ordered them to take Joel out the exact same way he'd taken their guy out.
(Y/N)'s eyes darted toward the house, the flames from the burning building providing decent enough lighting, but he couldn't spot Joel. Good.
"Dead end, Henry!" A woman, Kathleen, he assumed, called out, her voice surprisingly calm. "Gonna step on out? Save us some time?" Her voice was soothing, despite the circumstances. It was no surprise she'd taken up the mantle of leader. "No? That's alright. Doesn't matter."
(Y/N) wiped some gravel from his hands and took his rifle into his hands, adjusting the strap. Henry's hand flew over his wrist, and he shook his head at him, his jaw set and tight.
(Y/N) frowned, shaking his head back at him. They were cornered, but if (Y/N) and Joel provided a good enough distraction, Henry could flee with the kids and-
"I'll come out!" Henry shouted, and (Y/N) stared at him wide-eyed. "Just let the kids go!"
"No, sorry." She hardly sounded apologetic. It was condescending, mocking. "The girl's with the men who killed some of my people, and Sam... well, Sam's with you."
Henry grimaced. "You don't understand!"
"Oh, but I do!" Henry's features went slack at the revelation. (Y/N) swallowed. A brother for a brother. "I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?"
Henry's chest heaved with his hard breathing. "He's just a fucking kid!"
"Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time. You think the whole world revolves around him? That he's worth everything?" Ironic, considering the reason she'd gone out of her way to search for Henry. (Y/N) eyed the long shadows on the road, counting them. "Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate!"
(Y/N) looked back up at the windowsill and then at the kids. They panted harshly and trembled, huddling together for comfort and waiting for instructions. They wouldn't make it to Wyoming by themselves.
"We're going to distract them," He began quietly, and Ellie started to shake her head, her eyes glittering with tears. "You grab Sam, and you hightail it out of here with Joel."
"No-"
"Yes," Henry interjected firmly, taking one last big, deep breath. "Do it. Take Sam. Get to safety. Don't look back."
Henry stood up first, his hands raised in surrender as he took slow steps around the car. (Y/N) followed him, bracing his hand on the broken windowsill of the car. His nose crinkled when he bent his knee, and he allowed his body to buckle with the fresh injury, catching the way some of Kathleen's lackeys eyed his leg.
The weaker he made himself seem, the less attention they'd put on him.
Kathleen was a pretty woman, average height with a round build. Her eyes were big and dark, and they stared at Henry with fresh tears along the waterline.
The history between them was obvious; they'd known each other well before Henry's betrayal. (Y/N) could see it in the way she stared at him, in the shallow breath she took when she took out her pistol and pointed it at him.
"It ends the way it ends." She said softly, her brows pulled together and her lips pressed into an unapologetic line.
Before she could pull the trigger, the truck surrounded by flames creaked loudly, the bed tilting upwards as it began to sink into the ground.
She turned around with the rest of her people to observe the sight in confusion, and (Y/N)'s hands shot up to grab his rifle, the foot of his injured leg pressing against the ground again. His knee ached in protest.
The truck was swallowed by the ground, and shrieks and groans echoed from the hole left behind. (Y/N)'s breath trembled when he exhaled, and he took a step back, motioning for Ellie and Sam to stand up as he watched the ground continue to crumble.
The infected that'd been drawn underground by FEDRA. A cold shiver shot down (Y/N)'s spine, and in the blink of an eye, a wave of infected crawled out of the hole in rapid, inhuman movements.
The sound of gunfire filled the air, joining the freakish song of the infected who shrieked and croaked, their jerking bodies rushing toward the group of people surrounding them.
Despite the armed survivors doing their best to fend them off, the infected kept coming, more and more climbing out of the hole and latching onto the first human they spotted.
(Y/N) raised his rifle and took a shot at the first infected that broke through the crowd. Its skull had been cracked open by the fungus that'd overtaken its head and its veiny skin was covered in moldy bumps.
"Go!" He screamed at the three who stood in motionless horror.
In a matter of seconds, there were infected all around them, the air thick with the smell of their rotting, decaying flesh. Henry ran around the car and grabbed Sam's wrist, keeping his brother close to his body as he dodged infected and leapt out of their way.
(Y/N)'s heart pounded in his ribcage, the sensation of tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he whirled around, shooting each infected that headed his way.
(Y/N) hurried through the first opening he saw, but as he whipped his head around, he realized he couldn't spot Henry, Sam, or Ellie in the chaos around them. He watched an infected leap at a survivor, and turned away as her panicked screaming became shrieks of pain.
He flinched when a gunshot rang near him and spun around, finding the infected that'd nearly reached him slumping on the floor with a fresh bullet hole.
Joel. Find Joel and Ellie. Ellie... Ellie.. Where the hell is she?! (Y/N)'s head spun, and his vision faintly blurred, his leg buckling beneath him. Focus. Focus!
(Y/N looked toward the windowsill again, finally seeing Joel pressed up against it, aiming for one of the cars parked ahead of him. He spotted an infected clicker that'd once been a child climb through an open window, and the car began to sway with the movements of someone inside trying to get away.
Ellie.
He rushed forward, ignoring the pain from the shot up his leg each time, and threw open the passenger side door, reaching in and dragging Ellie out of the car.
He slammed the door shut right as the clicker slammed itself against the window, shrieking angrily and clawing at the window until its nails broke and blood smeared.
Ellie threw her arms around him, her mouth wide open while she gasped for air. "Henry, and-" She wheezed, her hands fumbling against his back before she pointed a trembling finger at a car. "Sam!"
(Y/N) followed her line of sight, his eyes flickering around until he spotted the infected on the floor, their arms reaching beneath one of the cars. He glanced up at the windowsill again and jerked his head toward the car.
Joel reloaded, and (Y/N) took Ellie's hand in his, running forward. Bullets whizzed past them, taking down any infected that got too close to them.
(Y/N) released Ellie's hand to raise his rifle, shooting one of the infected and dragging the body back as Ellie took her knife out and jammed it repeatedly into the other infected, saving Henry before the infected could take a chunk out of his shoulder.
(Y/N) reached down to haul little Sam up onto his feet, pushing the three of them toward the tree line. He followed after them, escaping the havoc.
"Stop!"
(Y/N) quickly turned and pointed his rifle at Kathleen, aiming right for the center of her forehead, where strands of brown hair clung to her sweaty, flushed skin. The hand holding her pistol trembled, her breathing quick and shallow.
Her eyes darted between them with uncertainty, with the look of someone who knew she was doomed. (Y/N)'s attention darted to the clicker from before when it crept up behind Kathleen.
Better her than them.
Kathleen had little time to react before the clicker pounced on her, clawing and beating at her face through high-pitched shrieks before digging its teeth into the side of her face.
Kathleen screamed, and (Y/N) looked away from the sight, relieved to spot Joel pushing through the brush. The destruction and death continued behind them as they hurried toward the bridge, and they continued running until they reached the other side.
"There should-"
Henry interrupted himself with a gasp for air, nearly tripping over his own feet. He staggered to a stop and braced his hands over his knees, a light sheen of sweat coating his brown skin.
"There should be a motel not- not far from here. Maybe.. Maybe half a mile? Fuck."
(Y/N)'s knee throbbed insistently, demanding attention as the adrenaline began to wear off. He rolled his lips into his mouth and raised his foot an inch off the ground, keeping weight off his leg while they caught their breath.
He closed his eyes briefly, glad for the cool breeze of the night that caressed his warm skin, and when he opened them, he found Joel standing right in front of him, staring down intently at his leg.
"You're hurt." He observed with a frown, taking a step forward and lifting his hand to gently cup (Y/N)'s elbow. The concern on his face was genuine, and (Y/N) could practically see him kicking himself for not thinking ahead. "How bad?"
"Bruised my knee, I guess. I don't think I fell hard enough for it to fracture, but it hurts when I bend it," (Y/N) explained, raising his leg to carefully prod at his knee. He cringed with discomfort and cupped his knee, feeling around for any swelling. "Yeah, just a bruise." He sighed, lowering his leg back onto the ground.
Bruises were relatively easy to deal with, but without ice or a compression wrap and a long, car-less journey ahead of them, (Y/N) knew he'd be in for some long, uncomfortable weeks.
Joel hummed quietly, thoughtfully, and reached around for (Y/N)'s backpack, fiddling until he took out two painkillers from the bottle (Y/N) had taken back in Lincoln.
"One is enough," (Y/N) muttered, popping one into his mouth after he gathered enough saliva to make it easier to swallow. "We shouldn't waste-"
"You're hurt, (Y/N)." Joel crossed his arms across his chest and raised his brows at him expectantly.
Stubborn, stubborn man. (Y/N) took the second pill with a bit of a huff and waited for Joel to tuck the bottle back into his backpack before he adjusted the strap over his shoulder.
"Good. You think you can walk by yourself?"
"Yes, I'm fine." God, how he wished they'd taken one of the cars before booking it over the bridge.
Joel looked uncertain. "You sure?"
(Y/N)'s cheeks burned with heat when he realized the others were waiting for them, their gazes patient but expectant. "Yes." Joel stayed still, his attention back down on his leg with slightly puckered lips. "Joel, I'm not made of glass. Come on, let's go."
The walk to the motel was borderline torturous, but (Y/N) bit his tongue and continued pushing forward, ignoring the other aches that'd begun to make themselves known across his body.
The painkillers would take at least thirty minutes to an hour to take effect, a reminder that rattled around in his brain until Henry pointed out the motel creeping up in the distance.
(Y/N) flinched subtly when an arm slipped beneath his backpack and curled around his waist, little pained puffs of air leaving his lips that he tried to mask as he looked at Joel. Joel pulled (Y/N)'s arm over his shoulder, his calloused fingers wrapping around (Y/N)'s wrist in a firm grip that refused to relent.
He tugged (Y/N) against his side and jerked his chin toward (Y/N)'s leg. "Take some weight off it."
"We're almost there."
"I know."
Joel's hardened features softened the slightest bit, his eyes glinting with a rare, gentle look. The arm around him tightened, pressing him closer to Joel's side. Warmth invaded (Y/N)'s neck, his gaze falling away momentarily.
"But the quicker we get there, the sooner you can rest up."
(Y/N) pursed his lips. "... Fine."
Leaning into Joel's side, (Y/N) lifted most of his foot off the ground, keeping the toes of his shoes pressed against the road. With Joel's help, they managed to pick up the pace a little, and Henry ensured to scope out the small roadside motel for any signs of movement or life.
Once certain they were alone, he and Ellie tried the doors of each room until they found one that was unlocked. (Y/N) pulled his arm away from Joel and leaned against an old, dust-covered drawer, relieved to give his legs a break.
He surveyed the hotel room and deduced that it'd likely been ransacked more than once, leaving behind useless items or large pieces of furniture that couldn't be moved without multiple people.
"The kids should take the beds." He said, nodding toward the open door leading into the small bedroom area.
For a shabby-looking motel, the rooms were fairly large. Someone seemed to have called the place home, though, given the decorations that'd been left behind. It'd probably looked smaller back when it was being used, back when it housed people that came and went without a care in the world.
Joel frowned at him. "(Y/N)."
(Y/N) waved him off and lowered himself down onto the cool, vinyl flooring, letting out a sigh from deep within his body. "It's fine, Joel. They need the rest."
After a moment of hesitation, Ellie and Sam wandered into the bedroom, using one of Ellie's lanterns to give them enough light for them to see.
They settled in fairly quickly and climbed onto one of the beds, huddling together to read one of the comic books they'd taken from the underground settlement. (Y/N) watched them with a little smile, his fingers working on slipping his rifle and backpack off his shoulders.
"You should eat," Joel told him, grunting quietly when he lowered down beside him, similarly taking his backpack off. He rifled through its contents until he found two granola bars, which he wrapped in a napkin and offered to him. "Here."
"You should eat, too," (Y/N) said softly, taking the granola bars from him and biting into the stale, dry almond base.
"What's the, uhm..." Henry took a mindful seat on a nearby chair, pausing briefly to double-check that it wouldn't fall apart beneath his weight before he similarly took out some food to eat. "What's the deal between you two?"
Joel's eyes shot over to him, and (Y/N) fumbled for some water before he could choke. "The what?"
Henry swallowed, his own eyes flickering between the two rapidly, confused. "You know, the, uhm, relationship. Are you... Are you not a couple?"
(Y/N) swore he heard Ellie cover up her laugh with a cough in the other room, his face rapidly flooding with flustered heat. He chewed a little faster on his granola, thankful for the water that made it easier on his throat to swallow. His lips felt sticky from the syrup, and he licked it away, hoping the emotions swimming in his chest weren't obvious on his face.
"Friends," Joel said finally, after a considerable pause. "We're friends."
(Y/N) inhaled. Friends. Yes. That's what they were, and what they'd always be. He felt dumb for the way his nose tickled and the back of his eyes stung. Pining for Joel Miller was a hopeless, hopeless cause.
"Ah..." Henry pressed his lips into what looked like a doubtful line. "I didn't mean to assume, then."
(Y/N) extended his leg out, straightening it as much as possible despite the pain, and he leaned back against the drawer, curling his arms around himself. "It's okay." He assured him, tilting his head back onto the drawer and closing his eyes.
Sleep came quickly, his eyelids growing heavy with the exhaustion gripping his body like a vice. Joel and Henry's voices grew muffled, distant, their words jumbling together into incoherent sentences.
Fingers brushed over the underside of (Y/N)'s chin and then prodded slightly until his head turned and slumped down onto something firm, yet soft. (Y/N)'s body slowly went limp, and his senses went dark.
What felt like only a few minutes appeared to have been hours because when he cracked open his eyes, he noticed the room had brightened with sunlight.
He blinked the bleariness out of his vision and hummed softly, smacking his dry lips and observing his surroundings. It was then he realized he was no longer sat back against the drawer, but on the floor with his head resting over Joel's shoulder.
He froze, the drowsiness disappearing from his body in an instant. His head slowly tilted backward until he could peer up at Joel's slumbering face, noticing he'd taken his coat off and folded it into a pillow of sorts.
Something twitched over (Y/N)'s hip, shifting the fabric of his hoodie, and he took a peek, spotting Joel's hand resting over it. They were... cuddling? (Y/N)'s carefully pushed himself up, and Joel's hand curled into a fist that clutched at his hoodie.
His knee's injury made itself known with a dull ache, and the rest of his body complained about sleeping on the floor, joining his knee in protest. He spotted Henry across the room, similarly curled up on the floor, and he wondered at what point Joel had moved them onto the floor.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled screaming, and the bedroom door swung open, filling the room with Ellie's panicked shrieks and loud, guttural hissing.
Joel shot up, his arm briefly tightening around (Y/N) protectively, their eyes locking on Ellie as she hurried out of the room, but she collapsed onto the floor when Sam tackled her.
"Ellie!"
(Y/N) and Joel scrambled up, though (Y/N)'s leg buckled briefly beneath the sudden weight, and he dropped back onto the floor. Joel reached for the nearest gun, but Henry snatched it up first, shaking his head rapidly as he pointed the gun at him.
(Y/N) leaned on his good knee and went to grab his rifle, sharply cursing when Henry shot at the floor beside the rifle to stop him. Ellie screamed and cried, wrestling with Sam on the floor, trying to keep his snapping teeth away from her.
At her following shriek for help, Henry turned and pulled the trigger, the sound of a body thumping on the floor following the gunshot. Ellie shoved Sam off and gasped for air, her teary eyes staring wide-eyed at the boy she'd befriended.
(Y/N) used the wall to push himself up onto his feet, his throat tightening at the crimson that spread across the floor. Henry's heaved pants and Ellie's sniffling disrupted the brief silence, each of them frozen in their spots while they processed what'd happened in a span of a few seconds.
(Y/N) dug his teeth into his inner cheek. He hadn't reached the car in time to kill the infected before it'd bitten into poor, sweet Sam.
"Ellie," Joel's voice tentatively called out. "Are you okay?"
Ellie craned her head to look over her shoulder at them, the tears tumbling down her cheeks and leaving teardrops on her shirt. Joel tried to step closer, but Henry swung his arm around to point the gun at him again.
His eyes were wide and beginning to fill with tears, realization dawning on him horribly. "What did I do?" He whispered, his pants growing heavier.
"Easy, easy," Joel spoke calmly, softly, his hands slowly reaching out toward the revolver in his trembling hand. "Give me the gun, Henry."
"What did I do? Wha- What did I do?" Henry's voice shook, his head whipping back around to stare at his little brother. "S-Sam?"
"Henry, give me the gun." Joel's tone grew firmer, his steps minuscule. "Henry... come on."
(Y/N) looked back at Ellie, his own breathing shallow and quick. Blood continued to ooze across the floor. He clenched his jaw, his eyes squeezing shut and his knees bending slightly, gearing up to lunge across the space toward Ellie.
He knew the look in Henry's eyes, that horror of knowing he'd lost the person he loved most. That same horror had come to Bill's eyes once, followed by resignation.
From his peripheral, he watched Henry bend his arm toward himself and rushed forward, lowering his body down toward the ground and using the dust on the floor to slide his thighs across the short distance between himself and Ellie.
His arms flew around Ellie, cradling her head to his chest as Joel shouted, and a gunshot followed. Ellie flinched and gasped into his chest, her body growing still before she broke down into hysterical sobbing.
A heavy thump echoed behind him, and he gently rocked Ellie's body back and forth, just as Frank had done to him after the passing of his mother. Joel's shaky exhale reached his ears.
"You're okay, Ellie." He whispered. He tried not to look at the small corpse beside them. "You're okay. You're going to be fine. We're going to be fine."
