summary: healing your physical wounds is not as hard as you think it would with Joel by your side, but there are bruises still taunting and you have special craving for olives.
w.c: 6,4k
warnings: angst, fluff, a bit of a fight with Joel but there is communication now, mentions of blood, anxiety, flashbacks, mentions of miscarriage.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you like this one because I love the fluff in this. We are getting closer to the end of this series, and I'm getting emotional. Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME.
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
"Okay, so ribs are healing properly, congrats on that!" She smiled at you, while you put your t-shirt back on. "I think you’ll need two more weeks for a full recovery."
"That’s great. I've taken this very seriously” you replied, “Joel had also forced me to." you joked a bit at the last part.
"Oh, I completely believe that!” she beamed, she loved the way Joel took care of you. It reminded her there was something romantic in the middle of all of this. “But why isn't he here anyway? I'm surprised" she asked, eyes soft.
"He doesn't know I’m here. He and Tommy are busy with some fixing at some houses, I think.”
"Oh sneaky, then." she spoke, lips upwards "So, that would be all." she smiled again, “If you feel anything…any pain, whatever, you come here, clear?”
You nodded, understanding “Okay.” Then, you stood from the bed, pressing on the mattress with the help of your arms, swinging your legs down carefully, but the moment your feet touch the ground beneath, the room tilted the same moment you stood.
You closed your eyes instinctively.
Adeline hand was on your arm immediately, “Hey!” Adeline exclaimed, stepping closer. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you breathed, nodding even though the dizziness didn’t pass. “I’m okay. I’m just a little dizzy, that’s all.” You pressed your fingers briefly to your eyes, like that might push the sensation away.
Adeline studied you, not entirely convinced. “Sit back down for a second.”
You did what you were told, allowing yourself to lean against on the bed again. The room slowly settled back into place. Your head stopped spinning.
“Have you been eating properly, lately?” she asked, tone gentle but not far from concern.
“Yes. Sleeping a lot too,” you added quickly, like you needed to prove it. As if your mother was warning you. “I swear. Joel won’t let me skip neither.”
That earned a small smile from her. “I figured.” She checked your pulse, then your blood pressure. “Your body’s still catching up. Trauma does that. Healing isn’t just broken bones mending.”
You exhaled slowly. “I know.”
“Take it easy today,” she said. “No patrol. No heavy lifting yet. And if the dizziness keeps you up, you come straight back here.”
“I promise.” you said, and this time you meant it. You didn’t want anything besides getting better.
Adeline stepped back, satisfied enough. “I’ll update your file. Two more weeks and then, you have your normal life.”
You smiled faintly. “Thank you, Adeline.”
When she finally left you alone, you stood again, slower this time, more carefully. The dizziness didn’t return this time, but a feeling settled on your chest, like your body was trying to tell you something.
A warning.
This time, you made your way out of the infirmary and into the sunlight of Jackson, squinting as the day greeted you with this warm on your chest. Weather was changing again; mornings were a little bit colder but the sun still found its way to sneak on.
You knew Joel was somewhere close, returning to his old habits and duties inside town. That reminded you of the old Joel, the one before the attack, the one who had softened after years leaving under the protection and roof of a town that had welcomed him and embraced him. And that made you smile, deep down you knew he loved the idea of a quiet life.
So, you followed the sound of hammering down the street, your boots crunching softly on the ground. After a few minutes walking, you saw Joel hallway up a ladder, shoulders tense as he worked on a loose beam, muttering under his breath the way he always did when something was causing more trouble than necessary.
You were just a few steps away when Tommy noticed, he smiled at your sight. “Look, Joel—that’s your wife.”
Joel froze at that. His head immediately snapped following his brother’s voice, then his eyes landed on you.
His eyes widened, but a smiled replaced the shook on his face, like he’d seen an angel walking in broad daylight.
“Sh—” he said, but his foot slipped on the rung.
The ladder tilted and Joel lost his balance, falling down, landing hard on his feet and one knee before catching himself on the side of the house.
“Joel!” you jogged towards him, worried.
“I’m fine!” he grunted immediately, already pushing himself up, his pride intact even if his dignity wasn’t in front of you. “I’m fine.”
You placed your hands at his side, upward on his arms, checking him over despite his protests.
“Okay, I fell.” he muttered, then looked at you properly, taking a sight of you.
His hands came up, gripping your waist, carefully “What the hell are you doing out?” he demanded, voice tight with disbelief, but smiling despite of it.
You smiled, breathless, eyes gleaming. “Surprise.”
He huffed out a shaky breath. His forehead leaned against yours, eyes squeezing shut. “Oh my god, you’re so...so incredible.”
“You fell off a ladder because of me,” you teased gently, laughing a bit by the end.
“Worth it,” he said without hesitation.
A couple of people nearby pretended very hard not to watch as Joel pulled you closer, arms wrapping around your body. He pressed a kiss to your hair, then your temple, then your forehead, one after the other, careless of the audience.
He wasn’t like this on public, so even you were surprised. Joel had his reputation, it was very different from the one he got back at Boston, but here, he still was known as a quiet man, not rude but quiet enough.
But there were things that changed people. Events that shaped you, that made you look towards your past and question things you could have done. And when life gave you second chances like this, you had to take it and embrace it. You needed to recover the strength and start again.
“Are you okay then, handsome?” you asked softly.
Joel’s breath hitched the moment the word left your lips. He tightened his hold around you instinctively, like his body answered before his mind could. His forehead resting against yours, eyes closing in between. He was taking you in.
“I am now,” he whispered back, voice rough. One of his hands slid up your back in that protective way of his. “I thought I was seeing things for a second there.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, alive, standing and smiling at him, and he smiled at you. His thumb brushing your cheeks.
“You shouldn’t be sneaking up on me like that,” he added softly, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “You almost killed me.” He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead to your neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”
Joel pulled away from you for a moment, hand slid higher until his thumb brushed gently at your temple. He stilled there for a second, eyes softening as he traced the faint line beneath his touch.
“You have scar here right now,” he murmured, half-smiling, “we have the same.”
You blinked. “Like are matching?”
He tilted his head, forehead resting against yours again. “Right here.” His thumb made a small circle. “Guess we’re even now.”
You thought it was absurd but the comment made you laugh lightly, free. “That’s the worst compliment you’ve ever given me.”
Joel huffed a quiet laugh at that, but he kissed your temple right where his thumb had been, right in the same spot he also had a scar, lingering there a moment longer than necessary.
Kissing you longer than necessary.
Joel pulled back just enough to look at you, again. “So,” he said. “What do you want for dinner today?”
“Olives.” You said without thinking.
He blinked “Olives.”
“I’m dying for them,” you said seriously, tilting your head back. “I’ve been thinking about olives all day.”
Joel let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
“Listen,” you pointed weakly at his chest when you listened to that sound. “If I don’t get olives soon, I might actually suffer.”
That earned another laugh. He squeezed your waist, thumb rubbing absentmindedly at your side. “Alright,” he said. “Where do you want me to get olives?”
You tilted your head, considering that consider it carefully. “Dina might have some,” you added. “Or Maria. She hides the good stuff.”
“Mmh,” he nodded, already resigned. “I’ll see what I can steal.”
“Borrow,” you corrected, smiling.
He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Borrow, okay.” he agreed. “Anything else?”
You shook your head. “Just you.”
Joel’s jaw clenched for a second, a smiled crossed his face and he leaned to kiss you.
“Alright,” he murmured against your lips. “You stay put. I’ll be back with olives in the afternoon.”
“And Joel?”
“Yeah, baby?”
You smiled. “Please don’t fall.”
At the QZ, Boston, 8 years ago.
The QZ was a place thar barely slept. At night when the curfew started, the night only quieted and stretched into a long dark shadow over the place. But people still got their business to do, and by people you meant, people like you.
What Joel and Tess were and what you had also become under their protection.
You knew what they did, the businesses they ran, and therefore, the reputation they held within the walls of the place. Most of the time, Tess didn't need to speak to get things done, nor did Joel. They were the perfect duo of survivors, their reputations ensuring their safety as long as they did things right, as long as people respected them.
And the moment you entered their lives, you became a weapon. Something they used for their own protection too.
And that night wasn’t different, you stood just inside the door of the apartment Joel and Tess shared, your back pressed to the wall, your bag heavy over your shoulders. Your fingers ached from gripping the straps too tight.
Joel paced back and forth inside, jaw clenched.
“You were supposed to follow my lead,” he snapped, voice sharp and loud, every word laced with anger. “Not play the hero.”
You lifted your chin, jaw clenched in the same way at his. “If I hadn’t, we’d all be dead by now.”
Tess shot him a look, warning him to back off, but Joel barely noticed his partner. His eyes were still on you, assessing, colder than you’d ever seen them. You knew he was angry and that you were still a stranger for them. Useful but replaceable.
“You don’t get to make choices,” he continued, stepping closer to you. “You don’t improvise on a run. You don’t break formation. That’s how people end up in body bags.”
The words hit harder than the gunfire you had been under before.
Your hands curled into fists at your sides. “That man was coming straight for you,” you said. “You didn’t see it.”
Joel let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t need you watching my back.”
Silence fell then, thick and uncomfortable. The kind that made Tess sigh and turn away to busy herself with something else, pretending not to hear or acknowledge the interchange of words between you and Joel.
You swallowed, forcing your voice to stay steady. You were strong enough for this. “Then don’t take me on jobs.”
Joel stopped his pace just right in front of you and for a second you swore you saw a flicker behind his eyes, surprised and guilt but that soon vanished before it settled.
“You’re good,” he said flatly. “Too good for us and that’s exactly why you’re here.” He gestured vaguely to the room, to the arrangement, to the life you hadn’t asked for but were already tangled in. “But don’t confuse that with my trust.”
You nodded once; jaw tensed it even hurt. “I wasn’t planning to.”
You turned and walked toward your room, shoulders tight and tense, heart pounding harder after fighting Joel.
You didn’t care what he thought, but it still stung.
And behind you, Joel stood still watching you refuge yourself behind that door.
But little did he know than later that never, he would remember this night. Remember how you stood your ground. How you had bled for him before you ever loved him.
And how wrong he’d been about you from the start.
….
Later that same night, just two hours later because Joel kept counting the minutes. Tess was sleeping besides him, but he couldn't close your eyes without your face coming to haunt him, so he stood and walked towards your room, stepping inside thinking you were already sleeping.
But Joel froze in the doorway.
The room was dim, lit only by a candle bulb settled on the counter. Shadows stretched along the walls, catching on the bed and the scattered supplies on the ground the small metal bowl by your feet. You sat on the edge of the bed, jeans leg rolled up, your fingers slicking with blood as you pressed a rag into the gash on your thigh.
You looked up at him, eyes sharp and he could notice the pain all over your face.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked.
He didn’t answer, his gaze locked in your wound and the blood seeping through your fingers. His jaw tightened.
“You’re hurt,” he said finally, like that explained everything.
You scoffed quietly, shifting your leg so you could tent your wound “No shit.”
He stepped inside without asking, the floor creaked under his weight. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you made it pretty clear tonight that I’m not supposed to,” you shot back. “I’m just the extra gun for you and Tess, remember?”
Joel exhaled, irritation creeping inside. “It’s not what I meant.”
“You could’ve fooled me.” You pressed harder on your wound, hissing through your teeth.
His eyes followed your movement and your expression, then flicked to your face. He noticed the tight set of your jaw, the way you refused to show pain. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
“Stop doing it that way.” he muttered.
You raised an eyebrow. “You here to lecture me again, or—?”
He crossed the room before you finished your words, crouching in front of you. You tensed instantly, but he held up his hands.
“Easy,” he said. “I’m just gonna help you.”
He reached for the rag and you caught his wrist without thinking, grip firm despite the tremor in your fingers. Your eyes met his, defiant.
“I can handle it.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
The words surprised both of you.
Your grip loosened, just a little. Joel gently took the cloth from your hand, his touch soft, almost hesitant as he examined the wound. It was deep, but far from infected. You had done a good job taking care of it.
“You should’ve told me.” He said again, softer this time.
You looked away. “You don’t truly care about me, so why?”
His jaw tightened; guilt finally cracked before you. “That was outta line. What I said earlier.” He swallowed. “You saved my life today.”
You smirked. “Yeah, but don’t get used to it.”
Joel’s mouth twitched upwards. Then, he reached for the supplies beside you, wrapping the bandage around your legs.
“Next time,” he said, eyes on his work, “you say something.”
You studied him for a long moment, then nodded
“Fine,” you murmured. “Next time.”
Neither of you said it, but something shifted in that small room and neither of you would forget it.
By the time, afternoon arrived and sunset stretched across the trees in the orange color, you had dinner ready. During these last few weeks, you and Joel had both been learning again. To move slowly and carefully and to communicate better, which had turned out into these types of moments where silence took over but it wasn’t suffocating anymore.
At least no for Joel.
Joel was sitting across from you by the table, he was focused on his plate as you watched him for a moment. The way his shoulders relaxed. The way he ate slower when you were looking at him, like he didn’t want to rush being here.
“Do you like your olives?” he asked, smiling.
You smiled in return and nodded. “Yes, thank you, baby.”
The nickname earned a wide smiled from him, then he went back to his plate, but this time a nagging feeling settled on your chest. Questions still flickering there.
Then you took a breath, to give yourself strength. “I know we promised not to talk about this again,” you started gently, fingers tightening around your fork, “but… what happened—what happened with Nick?”
Joel froze at your question. It was subtle, but you caught it, how the muscle in his jaw tightened.
He set his fork down carefully. “He left,” he said. “That’s all.”
You frowned. “Joel.”
“He did what he said he would do,” Joel continued, not looking at you. “Burned the lodge. Took care of it. End of story.”
“That’s not an answer,” you said quietly.
Joel finally looked up, eyes sharpening. “It’s the only one you need.”
Your chest tightened. “I deserve to know. He was there. He saved my life.”
“And I thanked him for that,” Joel snapped. “Personally.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
Silence crashed down like an ice bucket and Joel pushed his chair back slightly, the legs of it scraping against the floor.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “We were fine.”
“We’re fine because I’m pretending, I don’t have all these questions,” you said, pressing a hand to your chest. “Because I’m pretending, I don’t wake up wondering if you crossed a line for me. Again.”
His eyes flashed. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” you shot back. “Don’t ask questions?”
Joel stood abruptly. “I did what I had to do.”
“You always say that,” you said, voice breaking despite yourself. “And every time, it costs us something.”
He laughed, bitterly. “It cost me too.”
You stood as well, walking towards him “Then tell me. Tell me what you did.”
Joel’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “I’m not putting that weight on you.”
“Joel!”
“I’m trying” to protect you!”
“No,” you said, tears threatening you. “You’re protecting yourself from seeing me look at you differently.”
Joel went very still. His gaze dropped to the floor, then back to you hurt and furious “Do you think I killed him?”
You didn’t reply because you didn’t know.
He exhaled, clearly hurt by your silence. “You promised me to start again.”
“I promised that,” you said softly. “Not to pretend things never happened.”
Another long, suffocating pause from him, then Joel grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Joel…” you begged.
He stopped at the sound of your voice, hand on the handle, all his body tensed.
After you could say something, your stomach turned violently. You tried to breathe through it, palms braced on the edge of the table, but the nausea came suddenly and your body betrayed you, so you barely made it to the bathroom before you were on your knees, throwing up all your food.
You didn’t even hear the bathroom door open again, but you felt Joel’s presence there.
He knelt beside you without a word, one hand coming up to hold your hair back, the other resting between your shoulder blades, a familiar touch.
When you finished puking, you slumped back against the tub, chest raising and falling, eyes closed. Joel grabbed a towel, gently wiping your mouth it, leaning his back on the wall until he was beside you on the floor.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
“I swear,” he said, swallowing hard, “I didn’t kill him.”
You turned your head to look at him, to study him. The way his eyes pleaded for trust.
His eyes were rimmed. There wasn’t anger there. There was fear of losing you to doubts and those bruised still on your skin.
“Do you believe me?” he asked.
You studied him for another second. The man who first act of love he did for you was saving your life from a clicker, the same man who tended your wounds when he didn’t trust you. The man who married you.
And then, you nodded. “I do believe you.” you said softly.
A smile touched your lips because he knew you meant it. He knew that sound on your voice.
He let out a shaky breath and leaned forward, pressing his forehead to your shoulder, his hand gripped your shirt.
“Thank you,” he whispered. There was relief in his voice, there was love.
You rested your head against his, one hand sliding into his hair, fingers dancing over his curls. His arms wrapped around your waist, careful and protective.
"But what happened?" You asked, breaking the silence.
"Well, tommy and Jesse followed him, I wanted it too, but didn't find myself strong enough to leave your side."
You swallowed; your fingers curled on his hair.
“And…?” you asked again, quieter now.
Joel exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding this in his lungs for far too long. His gaze stayed on the floor, head still resting on your shoulder.
“Nick did what he said he would,” he continued. “He burned the lodge and by the time Tommy and Jesse got there, there wasn’t much left of it.” He paused; the silence heavy. “No body. No tracks. No blood that could tell us anything for sure.”
You felt something cold settle in your stomach.
“I don’t know if he walked away,” Joel admitted. “Or if he didn’t.” His voice softened, “But I chose to believe him. Chose to believe he meant what he said.”
Your head leaned back, eyes drifting shut for a moment. The image of that place engulfing in fire, the same place that had almost taken yours and Joel’s life, made your chest tighten.
“He paid his price either way,” you murmured. “Even if he survived.”
Joel nodded on your shoulder. You turned toward him, reaching out his hands, your fingers brushed over his knuckles. “You did the right thing,” you said firmly. “Staying.”
His eyes lifted to yours.
“I just needed to know,” you added gently.
Joel’s hand closed around yours too.
You stayed there together on the bathroom floor a while longer. Two people choosing truth and communication.
You leaned into his chest when he wrapped his arms around you. He kissed your neck softly, with love, not hunger.
“Are you feeling better now?” he asked, no taking his lips away from your skin.
“Yeas,” you whispered, exhaling against him. “I think so. Just tired.”
Joel hummed, a low sound in his chest, and rested his cheek against your hair. His arms tightened just a little.
“We can stay here for a minute,” he said.
You nodded, fingers curling around his hands. The world quieted for a moment, right there only both you existed.
“So what’s going on with you?” he murmured.
You swallowed, eyes drifting to his hands beneath yours. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “It’s been happening for a few days.”
Joel’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did you tell Adeline?”
You nodded. “Body’s catching up.”
His hand moved to your knee, warm and steady. “Do you want so sit here a bit longer?”
You nodded, leaning back into him again. Joel adjusted without a word, pulling you closer, one arm around your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline.
Boston at the QZ, 8 years ago.
Joel stood a few feet away from you, arms crossed, jaw tight and by now you were used to that posture.
“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” you snapped, you were done with him.
“I was keeping you alive,” he shot back.
You laughed, bitterly. “Funny. That’s exactly what every man who thinks he owns a woman says.”
Joel’s eyes darkened at that. His voice dropped, it sounded wounded. “Don’t put me in the same category as them.”
“Then stop acting like them,” you fired back. “You don’t trust me, you don’t listen to me, and every time I push back you talk to me like I’m just another liability.”
He stepped closer. Too close you felt his breath on your face. It made you feel overwhelmed.
“You don’t get it,” Joel snapped. “You’re not built for this. You make me weak all the time.”
Something in your chest cracked at that. You stared at him, disbelief flashing first, then hurt and disbelief.
“Say that again,” you said, voice low and defiant “and I’m gone.”
He scoffed, shaking his head like you were the unreasonable one.
“I said you’re a liability,” he repeated. “I’m the one who has to clean up the mess.”
You stepped back from him pulling your bag higher on your shoulder, jaw clenched. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. Ever. I’m leaving.”
“I’ll walk you out then,” he said, defiant, like he was daring you to prove him right.
You turned slowly, eyes burning. “No, leave me alone” you said, passing by him.
Something flickered in his eyes. The room went quiet except for the distant hum of soldiers walking outside.
He looked away then, shoulders tense, like he was holding something back with everything he had.
“I’ll walk you out,” he repeated, quieter this time. Not defiant anymore. Defensive.
You stepped past him, heading for the door. “Thank you, but you don’t have to.”
But he followed anyway. The hallway was narrow, and dark. Every step echoed too loud. At the exit, you stopped. Turned to face him one last time.
Joel swallowed, throat working. “I don’t want you gone.” He confessed.
You stopped short, frustration burning too hot.
“Why?” you asked “Why would you say that to me?”
Joel frowned, confusion pulling his brows together. “Why what? You know why,” he said defensively, like the answer should be obvious.
“No, I don’t,” you replied immediately, voice tight. “And that’s the problem.”
He exhaled hard, rubbing a hand over his face. “Because every time I look at you out there, all I can think about is how fast I could lose you. My heart hurts for you. I—I’m used to you.”
“That’s no an answer.” You said,
His eyes snapped back to yours. “You hesitate,” he insisted, but his voice softened now “You look back. You second-guess.”
“Ask me to stay” you blurted, “and I will, but do it properly.”
He stepped closer, slowly trying not to corner you.
“Stay,” he said at first, but then he shook his head, frustrated with himself. “No—” He inhaled deeply. “That’s not right.”
He met your eyes, fully this time.
“Please stay,” he said, voice rough but honest. “I don’t see you as a liability,” he continued quietly. “I see you as someone who makes me hesitate in a world that taught me not to. And maybe that scares the hell outta me because you make me feel human all the time now.”
His hands flexed at his sides, resisting the urge to grab you and keep you by his side.
Your mouth twitched upwards, and that was the first time you stayed.
You woke suddenly with a twist in your stomach. For a flicker of moment, you didn’t know where you were until you felt Joel’s arm wrapping over your waist. His breathing was slow over your neck.
But the nausea surged that had just calmed down, creep it again. You had to press a hand over your mouth, swallowing hard, slipping free from Joel’s hold careful not to wake him up. You placed your feet on the floor that felt bit colder under your bare feet as you made it to the bathroom just in time.
Your body folded over the toilet, retching quietly, trying to keep the sound low so you could kept this in secrecy. Even your ribs protested in pain at the movement. You squeezed your eyes shut, one hand gripping the toilet, while the other braced on the floor.
Once you were done, you stayed there for a moment, breathing slowly with your forehead resting over the cool edge.
You immediately rinsed your mouth, splashing water on your face, trying to come back to your sensed
That’s when you felt it again deep, settled in your heart.
“Baby?” Joel’s voice came out rough with sleep and worry lacing there.
You turned just as he stepped into the doorway, hair a mess, shirtless. He crossed the room in knelt beside you without a word, one hand coming up to hold your hair back, the other resting on your back.
“Hey,” he murmured, thumb brushing your cheek. “You, okay?”
You nodded weakly. “Just nauseous. It must be a bug” you told that to yourself mostly. That’s what you wanted to believe.
His brows knit together. “Again?
You hesitated just a second too long.
He noticed it but instead of saying anything, he leaned closer, pressing his forehead gently to your temple. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he said softly. “I can handle it.”
You swallowed, still catching your breath. “I know,” you whispered. “I just didn’t want to wake you.”
His hand tightened at your back. “You could wake me for anything,” he said quietly. “Anything."
Adeline listened in silence, as she wrote down all the symptoms you had listed: the nausea in the mornings, the dizziness, the exhaustion that clung to your bones even after rest.
She nodded, then she stood up, crossing the infirmary. Your stomach tightening for reasons that had nothing to do with nausea right now. Then, she opened a drawer, rummaged for a moment, then turned back toward you with two small boxes in her hands.
She set them on the table in front of you.
Two pregnancy tests.
The air left your lungs.
“No,” you said immediately, pushing the tests back toward her. “No.”
Adeline didn’t move the boxes. She didn’t push them closer either. She just looked at you, calm and with softness.
“Take a breath,” she said gently. “I’m not telling you what it is. I’m telling you what it could be.”
You shook your head, heart starting to pound. “I can’t—” You swallowed. “That’s not possible.”
“It is.”
“No!” you whispered, “No. It’s—It’s too soon for that. I can’t—No.” Your hands trembled in your lap. Images came back in waves, and all these months, all the pain came back in one second.
The blood, Joel dying in your arms, your blood, your grief Joel’s face when he found out, the silence that followed.
“I lost the last one,” you whispered, voice “I don’t think I could survive this again. I can’t—”
Adeline’s expression softened immediately. She moved closer, resting her hands lightly on the table.
“You don’t have to make a choice now.” she said quietly.
Your chest tightened, tears spilling despite how hard you tried to hold them back. You pressed your palms into your thighs.
“I remember everything,” you whispered. “Every second. I remember how empty everything felt after and how I almost lost Joel.” Your voice broke. “I can’t go through that again. I won’t survive losing another piece of us.”
Adeline’s eyes softened, but there was no pity in them, there was care and understanding. “What you went through was trauma,” she said gently. “Your body remembers it now, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”
She reached out for you, giving you time to pull away if you needed. When you didn’t, she rested a hand lightly over yours.
“Listen to me,” she continued. “Taking a test doesn’t mean you’re inviting loss over.”
You shook your head weakly. “What if it’s real again?”
“Then we go slow,” Adeline said firmly. “You won’t patrol. You won’t push your body again. We monitor everything. And Joel—” she paused, watching your face carefully, “Joel is gonna take care of you because he is here.”
Tears slid down your cheeks. “I’m so scared,” you admitted.
“You don’t have to take them today,” she added. “But I want you to take them soon. When you’re ready.”
You looked away; jaw tight. “Joel can’t know yet.”
“Then he won’t,” she replied without hesitation. “Not until you decide.”
The boxes sat there, a new future waiting to be written.
Adeline met your eyes, you looked away from here, and finally with shaking fingers, you reached the boxes, taking them out in your hands.
You nodded your hand, “Okay,” you whispered.
Joel didn’t say a word when he found you waiting by the gate. He handed you his jacket and helped you up onto the horse before climbing on too in front of you in order to lead the way. You pressed your chest on his back, and your arms tightened around his middle the moment the horse started moving.
You leaned into him without thinking, enjoying the breeze as you noticed how Jackson slowly faded behind you in your back. Out here, the air was cleaner, it felt flesher. The sunlight shone above the trees while the dust floated lazily in gold streaks around both of you.
You felt free like this, as if for a moment you could forget the possibility of a baby growing inside you.
After a while, the horse slowed, then stopped. Joel’s hand tightened around the reins.
“We’re here,” he murmured, leaning his head back to face you.
He slid down first, boots crunching softly on the ground beneath his feet. Then he turned and reached up for you.
“Come on,” he said gently, grabbing your hand, “I got you.”
He helped you down, carefully with hands firm at your waist. When your feet touched the ground, he didn’t let go right away.
“Now, close your eyes,” he said.
You tilted your head, suspicious but smiling faintly. “Joel—”
“Please,” he added, softer.
You nodded and did as he asked, the you felt him move around you, his boots brushing the earth, his hands holding your elbows to keep you steady. The breeze around shifted, carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”
So, you did, and for a split second, you didn’t understand what you were looking at.
There in front of you was a house, a big, white house. It was a bit dusty, but solid on the ground, there was a big tree next to it.
That was the farmhouse Joel had dreamed about, right there in front of you and tucked into the land, the porch sagging just a little on one side. One of the windows was open, curtains moving lazily with the breeze. The barn nearby leaned, the roof half-fixed, tools stacked against the fence like someone had been there recently.
Working,
And then it clicked.
This was his work. It was Joel’s work.
Your breath caught.
“Joel…” you whispered.
He stepped up beside you, one hand rubbing slow circles into your elbow, smiling down at you.
“It’s not much,” he said quietly. “The house still needs work. Some things are a mess there.” He cleared his throat. “But the land’s good. The soil is good. We could grow things here. Chickens, maybe. Olives if you want.
That made a laugh break through your chest, shaky.
“You’ve been fixing this?” you asked, eyes still locked on the house.
“Yes.” he admitted. “Some early mornings. I didn’t want to say anything yet.” He finally looked at you then, eyes searching for an answer. “I didn’t want to promise you something I couldn’t give you.”
“I thought…” He swallowed. “I thought maybe someday. When you’re ready…” His voice softened. “This could be ours.”
You turned to him slowly, heart pounding. “This is why you have a bruise in your butt?” you joked.
He nodded, laughing “Yes.”
You didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at the house, then back at him, then at the way his hand was still holding onto you like he needed to know you were in this with him.
And then your fingers curled around his hand.
“You built me a future,” you said softly, voice broke.
Joel’s jaw clenched, it trembled. He reached up, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs brushing under your eyes.
“Only if you want it. Only if you’re still here with me.” He reassured.
You leaned into his touch, tears slipping free as you nodded.
"I'll follow wherever you go," you said, cupping his face with your hands.
As if those words had hit somewhere deep, somewhere tender he didn’t let anyone touch.
His thumbs paused beneath your eyes, then pressed there gently, like he was grounding himself. When he spoke, his voice was rough, even breaking.
“No,” he said quietly.
Your heart skipped, confusion flashing across your face, but he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours before you could pull away.
“I won’t ever ask you to do that again,” he continued, slower now. “Not like before. Not blind. Not just because you love me because I know you do,” His breath shook. “I need to know you’re here because you choose it. Because it’s right for you too.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, really look at you. The fear was there but so the love.
“I’ll walk with you,” he said. “Side by side. Same direction.” A beat. “And if you ever need to stop, we stop.”
His hand slid from your cheek to your wrist, fingers lacing with yours, firm and warm.
“But if you’re asking me?” he added, softer, almost shy. “I’d like it real damn much if you stayed.”
Your hands came up to his chest, fingers curling into his shirt and you kissed him, slowly, certain, full of everything you couldn’t say without breaking.
Joel froze for a moment, but then he kissed you back. His hand slid to the back of your neck, thumb warm brushing your skin. The kiss then deepened with hunger and relief for two people finally standing in the same place, looking forward instead of back.
When you pulled away, your foreheads rested together, breaths tangled, the world quiet around you.
Joel brushed a kiss to your brow, lingering there.
“Okay, that was an answer I like.” he whispered, smiling.
This felt like an ending and a beginning all at once, so you stayed there, held between his arms and the life waiting behind him.
For both of you.
tags: If you want to be removed, please let me know.
Summary: After you wake up, Joel and you have the conversation you both owe each other.
w.c: 5,4k
warnings: angst, mostly fluff chapter, mentions of blood, weird smut with no protection, Joel caring a lot for reader.
A/N: If you saw this before is because I deleted the chapter by mistake hahan't, please enjoy this time. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.
SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME, PLEASE
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
Your eyes fluttered open to a blur of soft shadows dancing around you. The world spinned, and the ground beneath your body tilted. If it weren’t because of the hand holding yours as a thread holding to stay here, you would have drowned.
You would have died.
Death.
That was your first thought.
Death following you.
Death catching you.
Death gripping its hands around your neck and setting you free.
Death gave you another chance.
And life had trapped you here.
Your life, there, wrapping his hand around yours because he refused to let you go.
For a moment, that was your only thought. A tiny reminiscent of your foggy mind adjusting to work again, to make sense around you, of the colors, the scent and the sensations all over you. The cold and the warm. The skin on yours, Joel. Yes, Joel there because he was alive.
That relief settled on your chest with delicacy, as a soft care, as a knuckle drawing patterns, and for a moment it stayed like that. But soon after, the dull pressure in your chest and a ringing in your ears came crashing over you. You frowned slightly, disoriented, then closed your eyes again, hoping sleep would pull you back under and saved you from the physical pain.
But it hit you all at once. It crashed through your body like you’d been dropped from the sky from a plane and slammed into the earth, bones crushing and stealing the air from your lungs. A broken whimper slipped from your throat as your fingers tightened reflexively around someone’s hand.
Joel’s hand.
At the pressure over his fingers, he woke instantly. His eyes snapped and a smile washed all over his face.
There you were.
“Hey—hey,” he said, voice laced with worry but gentle, eyes softened when he realized you were looking at him, his whole face switched from sadness to relief in mere seconds. “Hey, baby. You’re okay. You’re here.”
His hands came up to your face, thumbs brushed your cheeks needing to feel the warmth irradiating from your skin under his fingertips, to caress the patterns of a map he had memorized back and forth and he loved to trace.
“You’re hurt.” he said, tone soft “Do you want some water?”
You nodded weakly, no uttering a word.
Joel moved carefully, lifting your head just enough to slide a cup to your lips. “Easy,” he murmured. “Drink slowly.”
You swallowed, the cool water relieving your raspy throat, even as your ribs screamed in protest due to the pain.
“Good,” he said, easing you back down. He adjusted the pillows, making sure you were rightly supported. “Careful—your ribs are broken. I got you.”
You watched him in silence, confusion knitting your brow.
“What… what happened?” Your throat felt dry again when you finally uttered the words.
Joel’s eyes widened a bit. He studied your face, searching for an answer. “You don’t remember?” he asked gently, caressing your head with his hand.
You closed your eyes, trying to reach for the memories flooding around your mind, but your head throbbed in warning, sharp and punishing. You winced; breath hitched.
“Hey, hey,” Joel whispered, immediately pressing his forehead to yours. “Don’t push it. It’s okay. You don’t have to remember now; you just woke up.”
His thumb traced patterns, over your knuckles, trying to calm you down.
“You’re safe now,” he said quietly. “That’s all you have to know right now. I’m here.”
“Were you… scared?” Your voice came out small, while hiding your head on his neck.
Joel’s jaw clenched, eyes dropping to where his thumb was still tracing slow circles over your hand, like if he stopped, something terrible might happen again, like you would vanish under his touch.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I was terrified.”
You swallowed, pain flaring faintly in your chest, but this time it wasn’t just physical. You turned your head just enough to look at him, really look at him.
“For a second I thought I lost you,” he began, voice rough. “I thought I was holding you and… that was it.” His breath hitched. “The thought of—That—” He shook his head. “That I would never have the chance to look at those beautiful eyes I love.”
Your fingers tightened weakly around his hand. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, a smile gracing your lips.
“Don’t be sorry, baby.” he said immediately. “You’re here.”
His fingertips came to your cheeks again, cradling you with a tenderness he rarely showed anybody but you, “You scared me because I love you,” he admitted, softer now.
You blinked, tears pricking at your eyes. “That’s okay,” you said faintly. “I was scared too…when I—the day when that happened to you…”
“…when I—the day when that happened to you…”
Joel’s thumb stopped moving for a second, his breath caught at his throat like you’d you put salt on a scar he still got over his chest. He knew exactly what you meant. He always would.
You swallowed for a bit; eyes glossy as the memory took over your thoughts. “I thought I lost you,” you whispered. “I remember kneeling there, thinking that if you were gone, there wouldn’t be anything left of me either.”
Joel’s eyes darkened. He leaned closer, his forehead rested against yours, like he needed that contact to stay calm, to give you calm.
“I know,” he said quietly.
Your hand trembled as you lifted it, resting it weakly over his chest, beneath your palm you could feel his heart beating.
“I was so angry,” you admitted. “At the world. At myself. At anyone who could take you from me.” Your breath hitched. “So, I get you were scared too.”
Joel closed his eyes at that, pressing a kiss to your fingers. “That day changed us,” he murmured. “Both of us.”
You nodded slowly. “I don’t ever want to feel that again.”
“Neither do I,” he said, voice firm. “And we won’t. I promise you.”
He brushed his nose gently against your temple, careful of your injuries of the bruises fading and the scar over there.
You let out a shaky breath, leaning to his touch.
"Oh, I have to let the nurse know you are awake" he said, getting up from the bed, without letting go of you hand immediately and your fingers tightened instinctively around his fingers.
“Joel…” you breathed, panic raising up your stomach.
He stopped immediately. “I’m just going to be outside.” he promised, sitting back just enough to brush his thumb over your hand again. His voice softened. “Just gotta get the nurse, baby.”
You nodded, though your chest still felt tight. He leaned down before standing, pressing a gentle kiss to your hair. “I’ll be right outside. I swear.”
Joel stood and moved back towards the door, turning his head to look back at you like he needed to imprint the sight of you awake in the back of his mind. A small, relieved smile tugged at his lips, the kind that hadn’t shown up in days.
The one reserved only for you.
Not long after, the door opened again. This time, a woman stepped in, hair pulled back tightly, eyes soft and welcoming. She glanced at you with a smile, then a Joel and then her gaze locked with your again.
You recognized her, Adeline. The same woman who had taken care of Ellie after the attack.
“Well,” she said gently, walking closer to you, “look who decided to come back to us.”
You tried to smile, but it came out more like a tired exhale.
She moved carefully, checking your pupils with a small light, pressing lightly along your arms and shoulders. “Can you tell me your name?”
You replied, voice hoarse.
“And do you know where you are?”
“Jackson,” you murmured after a second.
The nurse nodded, satisfied. “Good. That’s very good.” She adjusted the blanket around you, then glanced at the chart at the foot of the bed. “You gave us a scare, especially to Joel.”
Joel shifted. “She doesn’t remember what happened to here, is that normal?” he asked, worried.
“A little confusion is normal,” Adeline said calmly. “Head trauma, blood loss, broken ribs… her body’s been through hell. But she’s responsive, and that’s what matters.”
She turned back to you. “Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?”
You nodded faintly. “And everything hurts.”
She gave a small, understanding smile “Yeah. That’s pretty much normal, but we’ll manage the pain, but you need to rest.”
Her gaze flicked pointedly to Joel.
He raised his hands slightly. “Not leaving her side.”
“Good,” she said. “Because she’s going to need you. And you,” she added to you gently, “are going to need sleep.”
The nurse made a few notes, adjusted the drip, and softened her tone. “You’re safe now. Let your body do the rest.”
Then, she stepped back toward the door, Joel moved closer to you again, immediately sitting on his place by your side, hand finding yours like it belonged there.
“How is your knee?" You asked breaking the comfortable silence while facing Joel, resting your head on the pillow.
"What?" Joel asked, lips lifting upwards as if he couldn't believe the question.
"Your knee, the one you got shot at." you remarked, not mirroring his expression.
"Love, you are the one laying on that bed and you're asking about my knee?"
You nodded without smiling. Your expression seemed pretty serious even Joel stopped smiling, furrowing his eyebrows, shooting that worried look.
"It's okay, baby. It doesn't bother me a lot now" he replied, sitting by your side, grabbing both of your hands this time.
"But does it hurt?" You asked while looking at your intertwined hands.
"Sometimes it does. I’m not gonna lie." He said, tightening his hold around your fingers, wrapping his whole hand around yours.
"a little or a lot?" Your expression turned somewhat sad, disguised as worry, but Joel could read it and see the darkness dancing in your eyes.
Your gaze dropped to his knee. You could still remember that day, so vivid in the back of your mind that your heart clenched at the thought.
"Right now, just a little." He replied, a tiny smile gracing his lips as he kept his gaze on your face.
Your furrowed eyebrows. That's the first thing he noticed.
Then, your eyes because he loved how full of life they looked.
Then at the pout on your lips, as if you were stressed.
Yes, you were frustrated.
"Do your ribs hurt?" He asked, leaning his head so you would look at him.
Your eyes widened, a bit of surprise drawn in your expression and then, you rolled your eyes at him asking that question.
"It does now." You replied without leaving his gaze.
"a little or a lot?" He asked, smiling timidly at you.
The question earned him a smile from you, that smile that made your nose scrunch in a way he could melt right now.
That smile that brought warmth and spread it around his whole body.
"A lot." you replied, smiles fading, but still holding to it.
"Okay, but I will take care of you this time." He promised, lifting your hands towards his lips, leaving kisses over it.
A few hours later, the light outside had turned orange, slanting through the small window in soft patterns over your skin. You were propped up just enough to breathe comfortably despite the pain on your ribs.
Ellie sat in the chair beside your bed, one foot hooked around the rung, arms crossed over her chest.
“So I had to kick him out,” she said, nodding toward the door. “Dude, he smelled like a mix of things I don’t even know. I told him to shower before the nurse did it for him.”
You let out a weak huff. “Did he listen?”
“He grumbled,” Ellie replied. “He even tried to ignore me. Then I told him you’d be mad if he didn’t.” A small, crooked smirk tugged at her mouth. “That worked.”
Silence settled for a moment between the both of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Ellie picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, eyes flicking to you, studying you with her gaze.
“You scared the shit out of him,” she said finally. “And me.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
She shook her head immediately. “Don’t. I get it.” Her voice softened.
You studied her face, older now than when you’d first met her, he had grown up and you had just realized it “Are you okay?” you asked.
Ellie shrugged. “I will be.” She hesitated, then added, “I said some stuff I probably shouldn’t have.”
You smiled faintly. “He deserved it.”
That earned a small laugh from her but before she could say more, there was a soft knock on the door.
Gail stepped in, hands folded in front of her, her expression was calm but full of awareness.
“Well,” she said gently, eyes landing on you. “Looks like I’m late to the party.”
Ellie stood. “I’ll, uh—go check if Joel drowned in the shower.” She gave you a quick, awkward squeeze on your arm before slipping out the room.
Gail pulled the chair closer and sat, studying you with a knowing look. “You gave this town a scare,” she said softly. “Especially that man of yours.”
You swallowed. “He isn’t really good at letting people go.”
“No,” Gail agreed. “And neither are you.”
She leaned in just slightly. “But you’re awake,” she said, folding her hands on her lap, studying you, “And don’t think I don’t remember our conversations.”
“Gail…”
“How do you feel?”
You inhaled; breath stuttered before you could even think about words.
“It turned out that I was being hunt, not Joel.” You blurted, “I killed the people that tried to kill Joel that day, but the weird feeling I had it wasn’t about him. It was me all this time.”
Gail, nodded, encouraging to keep going.
“I told Joel I don’t remember what happened to me but I do. Mara tried to kill me.”
“Why?”
“Our paths crossed before Jackson, but I didn’t remember her.” You said, “not at first,” you went on, your voice lower now. “I didn’t remember her face. Just the feeling. Like something unfinished was following me.”
Gail didn’t interrupt. She allowed the silence to give you space.
“She lost people because of us,” you said finally. “Because of Joel. Because of me.” Your fingers curled on the blanket. “And she decided that meant I had to pay.”
Gail tilted her head slightly. “And do you believe that?”
You hesitated. Pain flickered across your face, but not from your ribs this time. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I know what the world is like. I know what we’ve done to survive. But knowing doesn’t make easier.”
“No,” Gail said gently. “It doesn’t.”
You swallowed. “She wanted to use me to hurt him. And she did the same with him.” Your breath caught. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
Gail’s expression softened, but there was still a bit of something you couldn’t figure it out inside her eyes. “You protected someone you love.”
“I did,” you said. “And I’d do it again.” Your eyes lifted to meet hers. “That’s what scares me.”
Gail leaned back slightly, folding her hands.
“I don’t want to do that all the time.” You said, confessed.
“Why did you lie to Joel about it?”
“Because he would like revenge and the same cycle, over and over again and then someone is going to come for us and we’ll end up losing each other. And I’m so mad at him because his choices sometimes lead sus to this, but I can’t tell him that.” You felt the tears stinging in your eyes.
Gail was quiet for a long moment. It was a measure kind of silence. Like she was choosing each word with particular care.
“You’re angry,” she said finally. “And you’re allowed to be.”
You let out a shaky breath that turned into something close to a laugh. “It feels wrong,” you whispered. “Being angry at him after everything.”
“It isn’t wrong,” Gail replied. “It’s an honest feeling.” Her gaze stayed steady on yours. “You can love someone and still be furious about the choices they make. Especially when those choices keep putting you in danger.”
Your shoulders sagged a little, like the weight of the admission had been holding you by the neck. “If I tell him that, he’ll think I’m blaming him.”
Maybe,” she said gently. “At first.”
Your throat tightened. “I don’t want to lose him. Not to death or to this constant need he has to bleed for the people he loves.”
Gail’s expression softened then.
You closed your eyes, a tear slipping free. You wiped at your cheek with the back of your hand. “What if telling him the truth makes him worse?”
“Deep down… do you blame him for the baby?”
The words hit you with force your breath left your lungs.
Your eyes widened; mouth open. “No,” you said immediately, voice trembling, “No. I–I would never blame him for that.”
Ellie studied you, head tilted. “So, then what is it?”
Your fingers twisted in the blanket. “I want this to end,” you said, voice breaking. “I’m so sick of us having to survive consequences because he—or someone else—made a choice and somehow I’m the one paying for it.” You sucked in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to keep bleeding for love.”
“I want him to be happy,” you whispered. “Because I love him. I love—”
The word caught.
“Joel.”
The door creaked open.
“I brought your cookies,” Joel said gently. “Dina sent them.”
You looked up at him and forced a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. He noticed.
“Hey,” he said, setting the tin down. His brow furrowed. “Are you okay? You were crying.”
Before leaving, Gail gave you one last look, a gentle one, then quietly slipped past Joel and closed the door behind her. The click echoed louder in that silence, more than it should have.
Joel stayed glued to where he was, looking around the room, but evading your eyes.
You swallowed, heart pounding inside your throat. “What did you hear?” you asked.
Joel hesitated before, finding your gaze across the room.
“Enough,” he said finally. “Not everything but enough.”
Your fingers tightened in the blanket. “Which part?”
He sighed, looking around the room once again, “That you’re tired,” he said. “That you’re hurt. And that you love me.” His gaze dropped to his hands, then lifted again. “And that you don’t want to keep bleeding for it.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” You said in a quiet voice.
“I know.” He moved closer to you this time, pulling a chair next to the bed, “but I’m glad I heard.”
You frowned. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t know you felt like this,” he admitted. “Not all of it. I knew you were angry. I just thought…” He shook his head. “I thought you were angry at the world. I just didn’t realize it was me you were afraid of.”
That stung in your heart, but it was partially true.
“I’m not afraid of you,” you said. Then, after a beat, you corrected yourself. “I’m afraid of what loving you costs. Every time.”
Joel’s jaw clenched. “I never wanted to be the reason you hurt; you know?”
“And yet here we are,” you whispered, tears welling, your eyes stung once again “I keep surviving things I shouldn’t have to because someone else wanted revenge or justice.” Your voice cracked. “Because loving you puts a target on my back.”
Joel reached for your hand, “I can’t promise the world is gonna stop coming for us,” he said. “But I can promise this; I won’t make choices for you anymore.”
You searched his face, to find an answer in those soft brown eyes of his “And if protecting me means letting go?”
His throat trembled. “Then I’ll learn how to do that too.” He squeezed your hand gently. “I’m not good at this, but I’ll try. For you.”
Your smiled at him. “I just want peace, Joel. Even if it’s boring.”
A faint, sad smile tugged at his lips. “Boring sounds real fucking nice right about now.”
You leaned back against the pillows, exhausted but your chest felt lighter.
"Can I ask you something and please be honest with me." Joel said, looking at you right in the eyes.
You nodded, inviting him to do it
"You don't really blame for what happened with the baby, right?"
Your eyes softened at the question and you heart broke in a thousand of pieces just at the mere thought of him thinking about that.
“No,” you said, barely above a breath. You shook your head slowly. “I don’t hate you for that.”
Joel didn’t move at that, he stayed in the same spot, same place.
“I grieved…” you continued, voice trembling now. “I grieved the baby. I grieved the idea of who we could’ve been. I grieved my body, my fear, the timing of it all.” Your fingers curled into his hand “But I never once thought it was your fault.”
His eyes burned; the tears stung “Why does it feel like I broke something in you?”
You reached for him, your hand now found his jaw, you caress the spot right there, carefully “Because you’re carrying guilt” you whispered.
A tear slipped free from him before he could stop it. He looked away, ashamed of it.
“I would’ve loved that baby,” he said, his voice broke at the end “I would’ve—” He swallowed. “I would’ve been good.”
“I know,” you said immediately. “That’s why it hurts. Because I know.”
Silence fell again, it felt fragile this time, as if pain had become something new.
Joel finally looked back at you. “Do you resent me?” he asked. The word tasted bitter in his tongue.
You shook your head. “I don’t resent you. I’m scared,” you corrected gently. “Sometimes I’m scared of how much I need you.”
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. His hands came up to your cheeks, cupping your face with delicacy.
“I love you so damn much, baby,” he said, like he was confessing his feelings for you all over again.
Your hands trembled as they slid up his arms, fingers clenching tightly in the fabric of his shirt. Joel opened his eyes then, there was devotion and fear in them.
“I’m sorry for what I put you through,” he apologized. “For pushing you away, when I needed you so much,” His thumb caressed the spot under your eyes, catching a tear before it fell. “When I couldn’t move, I used to wake up every day and you were the first thing I thought about. You are the first thing I think about.”
You pressed your forehead against his, kissing his nose, lips lingered on there for a second. “I know,” you whispered. “I felt it.”
Joel’s breath broke at that. That connection between both of you, the secret language no one knew the words to, but you. And perhaps that was what terrified him, you were the only person in the whole world that knew him, that had known all the broken pieces in him and still choose to stay.
If you hadn't survived, Joel would have had nothing left. Just a heart slowly rotting away because it would no longer have any use.
He leaned into you, all the weight carrying him to you, foreheads pressed together.
And then, Joel closed the distance. He kissed you in a way it felt as if was learning how to all over again. It wasn’t a rushed kiss. His lips pressed to yours with a trembling softness that carried every feeling inside him.
His hand slid from your cheek to your jaw, thumb brushing gently at the corner of your mouth as you kissed him back. He let out a whimper, a sigh.
Relief, perhaps.
“There you are” he whispered against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours again. His eyes were glassy, searching your eyes, “God, I missed you.”
Then, he kissed you again, deeper this time.
Joel’s calloused hands hovered near your waist, his touch was there, but it was too light you couldn’t quite feel over your skin
"I don't know if this is a good idea," he murmured, worried. "You're still hurt. What if I make it worse?"
You reach for him, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer to you. "Please, Joel. I need you. It's been too long. I can handle it, I promise—just fuck me.”
Joel didn’t know how you’d convinced Adeline to let you leave the hospital after only four weeks.
He’d argued it himself, quietly at first, then with that familiar stubbornness that came with age. Always nagging Adeline with questions about your ribs, the concussion in your head, the blood loss.
One day, after he had spent some time at home during the morning because you had forced him, you appeared by the door.
Wrapped in one of his flannels and with Tommy’s arm was firm around your waist, steadying you, careful as he guided you inside the door.
Joel was on his feet immediately.
“Hey,” Tommy said, a small smile tugged at his mouth. “Please, don’t look at me like that. She bullied Adeline.”
You smiled, a little crooked, tired but proud of yourself for being here standing “I followed all of the rules,” you added.
Joel walked towards you, just standing a step from you. His eyes travelled over you, to your face and the way you leaned just slightly into Tommy’s support.
“You were supposed to still be—” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “You were supposed to be resting.”
“I am,” you said gently. “Just somewhere else.” You added, smiling.
Tommy loosened his hold. “I’ll leave you two,” he said, already backing away. “Good luck with this one.” He said, smiling before patting over his brother’s shoulder.
Now, here you were, his body hovering over yours with doubt, and not because he didn’t want to be with you but he was still afraid of breaking you.
You had been healing, yes. You had followed all the instructions, but your desperation turned into ache.
He hesitated, jaw clenching, but the way your voice pleaded made him weak, so he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, his beard scrapped at your skin as his tongue slides against yours. His hands found all their way, finally settling on your hips, his thumbs tracing the hem of your shirt. You arched into him, ignoring the nagging sharp jab in your side.
Your clothes came off in a rush. Joel lifted your shirt carefully over your head, his jeans shoved down his thighs, as well as his boxers and his cock sprung free, thick and already hard, you felt it throbbing as you wrapped your hand around it, stroking firmly. Joel hissed; his eyes fluttered shut for a moment.
He pushed you back onto the pillows, sliding his hand between your thighs until his fingers found the place where you wanted him more.
It started slowly at first, his fingers circling your clit to make your hips buck and give you some of the pleasure you were craving. Then he rubbed faster, his fingers dipping into your wetness.
"Do you like this?" he asked, voice husky, studying your face for any sign of pain, but he found your face drawn in pleasure, mouth agape, moaning as pleasure coiled in your core, your pussy clenching around nothing.
"You need to tell me if it hurts," he recalled, voice strained, as he withdrew his hand, positioning himself between your legs.
You spreaded them wide, pushing him with your hands on his back as you guided his tip to your entrance, already starving for his touch. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open.
The feeling of his cock inside you made you gasp, mixing the pleasure you were craving with that nagging twinge in your ribs,
but you bite it back, didn’t complain, instead you wrapped your legs around his waist, encouraging Joel to keep going. He thrusted, slowly at first, hips buckling in a steady rhythm. Each friction of his cock inside you sparked fireworks up your spine, your walls clenched around him.
You moaned, nails digging into his back, urging him to move faster, but that made him pause after a few strokes, still buried inside you. His free hand cupped your face gently. "Are you good? Your ribs?"
You nod quickly, desperate. Pulling him down for another kiss. "I'm fine. Keep going—fuck meeee” you begged against his lips.
And that was all he needed to go back, picking up the pace, grunting as he met your skin, while swallowing your moans in his mouth.
His cock hit deep, grinding against your walls, but midway through a particularly deep thrust, he stopped again, his cock twitching inside you. His palm presses lightly over the bandages on your ribs, eyes locked on yours. "Hey, does that pull these? Talk to me, darling. I don't wanna hurt you."
"No, it's good," you whisper, rocking your hips to encourage him. "Don't stop now."
He exhaled shakily, starting up once more, but the pattern continued the same, thrusts building to a frantic rhythm, then a sudden halt as he checked in again. After a dozen deep thrusts making your toes curl, he froze, fingers brushing your side. "Still alright? Need me to slow down?" You shook your head, capturing his lips to silence him, and he groaned into your mouth before plunging back in.
His hand slipped down between your bodies, finding your clit again even as he fucked you, rubbing in tight circles that make your vision blur. The sensation pushed to the edge, but he stopped, once again.
Mid-thrust, right before your orgasm could built up
"Breathe for me. Are you sure you're not in pain?"
"Joel, please," you beg, clenching around him with force "I'm so fucking close. Just fuck me through it."
The care in his touches, the constant pauses let all the tension simmer inside both of you, only heightened the sensations. He finally nodded and let go a bit, his hips snapped forward as his fingers pressed harder on your clit. You moaned out loud, clenching around him, your pussy spasming, as your orgasm came in waves. He followed soon after, burying himself deep with a guttural moan, as he kissed you, cum flooding inside you hot and thick while his free hand stayed gentle on your uninjured side, still careful.
Then, when the silence took over both of you again, the world felt small enough to fit both of you in a bubble. Joel brushed his thumb around your cheek first, then he leaned, kissing you softly, on your temple, your cheekbones, the corner of your mouth.
As if he was hungry for you, as if he wanted to make sure you would never be going to slip from his touch again.
Then, he planted a kiss on your nose, your eyelids, then on your forehead.
Each kiss felt like a thousand of new promises he would fight to keep.
“Hey,” you murmured, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you found his gaze.
He huffed a breath against your skin, sighing happily. “Let’s start over?” he asked, hopeful.
You looked at him for a long second, all those lines worry that had carved into his face with years disappeared, switched by the softness in his eyes that only ever showed when it was just the two of you like this.
You smile and nodded immediately; breath shaky but sure of your answer.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Let’s start over.”
Joel laughed, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, and inhaling your cinnamon scent.
The demons that haunted you both still existed; he knew they were still watching from afar, waiting for their moment. But his heart was weary of anticipating the worst and regretting what hadn't been, what he'd lost. Now, Joel wanted to use his strength, the same strength he'd recover after months, to love you properly and build a life together, like a rose growing in a frozen ground. Strange, but impossible to ignore.
And he had already begun.
Three weeks ago, he'd started repairing the house on the farm,
And he couldn't wait to show it to you.
tags: If you want to be removed, please let me know.
summary: Joel faces his worst fear when it comes to you.
w.c: 8,7k
warnings: angst, a lot of tears, mentions of blood, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of suicide, joel being a bit harsh on this.
A/N: note at the end of the chapter. AND PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME. REBLOGS ARE IMPORTANT, THANKS.
dividers by @/saradika-graphics
If somebody asked Joel about his favorite sound, he could come to think about birds, and silence. That kind of silence that doesn’t scream, that doesn’t seem eerie, that one that brought calm in the air, peaceful.
But as the days of his life had turned into more than two decades he had started to enjoy of the little things and he had made up his mind about the favorite sounds and of course it came from you,
From the sound of your voice when you talked sweet nothings to him
From the sound of your humming when you were just looking around
From the sounds of your moans, he got to swallow during kissing
But his favorite sound was your laugh, yes, as simple as that.
The one that came out right after sex or after something had turned out okay and you were glad you had made it to another day because that meant you were alive, that you, his favorite person in the world was alive.
That meant your heart was still beating, that meant his one was still beating, because his life depended of yours, of your own heart beating holding him altogether.
After all, you always carried his heart in your hands.
That's why the silence pressing against his chest now wasn't the kind of silence that followed after your laughter, or your breathing. This was the kind of cursed silence that foreshadowed something was wrong. Joel was aware he didn't possess the gift of sixth sense, but he did believe that the connection between you and him was so strong that you both knew when something wasn't going to end well, when you were both in danger.
This silence now was suffocating and warm, but the kind that burns you, and choke you with bare hands. Probably the same kind you had felt just a few months ago when you found him at the gates of death.
No birds.
No wind.
No laugh.
Just that pounding, ringing silence inside his skull and that terrified Joel as if nature had a way to alert him of something was definitely off.
“We should probably go back to Jackson” Tommy spoke, stopping just behind Joel, who still seemed lost and focused at the same time.
Joel’s fingers twitched at his thigh; near his rifle, he wasn’t even aware of what he was reaching for.
His jaw tensed at Tommy’s suggestion. He didn’t even turn to look at him when he replied because he was listening anything remotely close to your breathing, to the woman whose heart kept his own beating.
“No, we aren’t.” Joel replied, voice strained.
Tommy just exhaled; he knew that fighting Joel right now wasn’t the correct move. “Joel, you don’t even know if she’s hurt. She could just be—"
Joel’s head turned abruptly towards his brother, the look in his eyes seemed defiant and broken at the same time drawn in that kind of gaze someone becoming a weapon instead of a man.
“Just be what?” he asked, tone holding anger on it.
“Joel…”
“Just fucking say it!” Joel pressed.
“Perhaps it was all a move she made up.”
“For what? For leaving?”
Tommy didn’t reply. Joel had already did it for him, but the look inside his brother eyes weren’t holding doubt on you.
Jesse shifted beside them. He knew there was tension. And the heat wasn’t helping at all. Sweat had plastered his to his forehead, but the worry in his eyes wasn’t from the heat.
“Her tracks stop near the trees…” he muttered. “Then nothing. It’s like she just disappeared.”
Joel’s heart constricted hard against his cage. He stopped breathing. For a flicker of a second, he thought of your laugh. He thought of every time he woke with your hand on his chest, keeping him alive.
He thought of the sound of your voice whispering that you were okay. He wanted to imagine that.
Because last night you had promised each other you would start again. You had danced together, you had come to bed together, you had made love and then he got a glimpse of you in the morning when your lips ghosted over his temple before you left for patrol.
Joel swallowed with difficulty, eyes narrowed, sharpening to a point.
Whatever sense of peace these last few days he had was falling away like old dust shaken off.
Tommy and Jesse saw it dancing in his eyes.
“Someone took her,” Joel said, afraid of the truth. The muscle in his jaw tightened.
Tommy stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Okay. Then we find her. But Joel…”
“The lodge.” Joel said, before Tommy or Jesse had the chance to.
Jesse blinked at that “The lodge? Why the hell would she end up there?”
Joel was already jogging toward the horses, leaving no space or time to step back because he didn’t need to sit and think about logic right now, nor a proof. He simply felt it, like a hooked line pulling straight through his chest.
Tommy cursed under his breath and hurried after him.
“Joel she wouldn’t go back there after I found her the other day—"
“She would,” Joel snapped but without. “She wanted to make sure no one followed after that day, I know., but now she is not alone, I know.”
Jesse exchanged a worried glance with Tommy.
“Joel,” he tried carefully, “if it is the same lodge… the last time we were there—”
Joel’s jaw went tense, memories crashing hard and fast, back and forth.
Blood. Yelling. Your hands shaking on his chest, desperately bringing him to life while the world was trying to take him away from you.
He hadn’t forgotten and he would never forget.
Tommy stepped in front of him, trying to slow him down before he mounted the horse.
“Listen,” Tommy said firmly. “If this turns out the way we think—”
Joel looked up at him. There was no fear in his gaze.
“I’m losing time here Tommy.”
Tommy’s face tightened.
“And I’m not coming back to Jackson without my wife.” He added before adjusting his rifle strap across his shoulder.
Your blood made Nick's hands wet and slippery.
He wasn’t sure of how long you had been out cold, maybe a minute, ten, or thirty, his mind was filled with only worry and the sound of his heart beating fast against his ribs
"Hey—hey, please wake up," he begged, his voice strained as he gently touched your face with shaky hands. "Don't die on me, please don’t.”
Your head moved to the side, blood flowing down your head, forming a sticky puddle under your hair. Nick took a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. He pressed a piece of his ripped t-shirt tightly around your head to stop the bleeding.
"I’m sorry," he said quietly, his voice cracked at the end. "I'm really… damn, I got part on this.”
His sight blurred, he tried to blink a few times to clear it, but he couldn’t move, especially with you laying seemingly lifeless on his lap and when Mara’s body laid just a few meters away in front him.
He pressed his hand on your wrist to feel your pulse, it was really soft and slow and your skin was getting colder.
“Wake up," he sighed, moving back a bit. "You are strong. I’ve seen you.”
But fear rose and crept up inside his own throat. You stayed still. You made no sound. He kept you safe from foes but could still fail.
He put one arm by your back and carefully pulled you to the wall, placing you safely to help you breathe. His hands were shaking.
“I can’t take you back to Jackson by myself,” he spoke, voice slow for you to hear. "But I know Joel will find you—” He paused; his voice turned low. “Please, try to stay alive”
Your lashes fluttered softly, but Nick felt some hope building inside his chest.
“Yes, right there," he spoke soft, cleaning blood from your head with care that felt odd near all this mess. “That is, it. Breathe…. just breathe.”
But then, you shuddered and went still again.
Nick's face crumbled, his calm lost.
“I should have warned you, " he said low, eyes so burning due the tears. "I must stop you then. I must have told Joel then. I must have—”
His sound broke and died inside his throat because the sound of horses galloping made him freeze. Instinctively, he became protective over you, grabbing the same gun he had use to kill mara.
Nick gritted his teeth, hardening his gaze as he pointed precisely at the door through which people were going to enter. He stood in front of you for the sole reason of saving your life and being brave and strong enough to take you back to Jackson and save your life.
Nick stayed still as stone. His gun stayed steady in his hands, breathing sharp, set to fire when the door swung wide. But when it burst open, three shapes rushed in fast, guns up and aimed right toward him.
Tommy, Jesse, and of course, Joel.
Nick braced for a firefight, but none of them fired, because the scene hit them like a punch to the chest.
Mara’s body lay collapsed in her own blood on the wooden floor.
And behind Nick—
Joel’s soul left his body, followed by a gasp sound that felt ripped out raw from inside.
“Jesus Christ,” he croaked.
His gun nearly fell from his grip when he saw you there, blood seeping dark from your head, skin so pale, eyes shut, chest barely even lifting.
For one long, frozen moment, Joel forgot the world outside.
Tommy moved quick but calm, Jesse’s eyes opened wide at all the scene in front of them, but Joel,
Joel stumbled close like he’d caught a bullet, his legs shook when he tried to step closer to you.
Nick tried to keep steady, hand still tight on the gun, defending himself from Joel’s upcoming attack.
“She needs some help—”
But Joel didn’t react, his eyes were glued to your form laying there. His whole world limp there in a pool of black blood.
Tommy reached out for his brother, trying to hold him still. “Joel—Joel—slow down. We don’t know what—”
“No.” Joel’s voice cracked. His eyes darted wild. “She’s hurt.”
Nick dropped his gun, his chest rising “I did not do this,” he spat through his teeth. “She—Mara did it—she tried to end her life—she nearly—”
Joel didn’t care who did what. Not just now. Not when your own blood stained the floor in the same way his did.
How had you been you strong after seeing this?
Joel ignored Tommy and Nick's words, walking past them without even being able to take his eyes off you, the same woman he had seen just hours ago safe in the warmth of his arms, now lying in a pool of blood. He fell down on his knees beside you, body shaking.
Your head tilted softly when his hand touched your cheek.
“Baby, come on, open your eyes…Baby?” He whispered, grabbing your face with delicacy as if you were a rose and the petals had started falling out.
Joel was a strong man; anyone could see it. The broad shoulder and the defiant look in his eyes, at the look of them. Most of the days he looked like the strongest man on earth.
Now, on his knees grabbing his world in his arms.
“Come on, baby?” he begged, again, but he was met the silence, the kind of silence that sliced any heart in two. “Baby, open your eyes” he repeated all again, his forehead now touching you.
“Baby…” he mumbled low, the word getting stuck deep in his chest. “I beg you.”
His head touched yours, like touching could make you feel strong now. Like his will could keep your soul right where it should be, in your body.
“Where did you get strength?” he said, voice cracked, different from the man who looked at scary things without any fear. “How on earth did you manage to go through this?”
Tommy knelt beside him carefully, murmuring to his brother “We need to take her back, Joel—let me—”
Joel shook his head sharply, shoulders shaking “No” he rasped, as if letting, even an inch of you, would make you slip away forever.
Nick swallowed hard behind him, his voice cracking. “I tried to keep her awake. She—” He stopped, the guilt strangling the rest.
Joel didn’t even listen to those words. All the strength, all the violence, all the survival instinct that had made him feared across two decades meant nothing here.
Because you weren’t looking at him. You weren’t talking to him. You weren’t smiling that soft morning smile that always made his heart stop.
He shook you just slightly, trying to make you open you eyes, but his his voice broke again. “Baby, come on. This isn’t how it ends,” he whispered. “Do you hear me? Not like this. Not after last night. Not after we said.”
Your hand slipped limply off your stomach when he cradled you closer to his body, he stuttered, something inside him really broke at the sight of you so weak in his arms. He gasped at the touch of your hand, your skin felt colder under his fingertips and it terrified him.
Tommy leaned in, with urgency on his voice. “Joel, we need to move her and take her back to Jackson.”
Joel lifted his head, finally looking up at his younger brother. His eyes were wild, red, glassy, not with rage this time, but filled with the desperation of a man losing the love of his life in his arms.
“Is she gonna die?” Joel asked with a voice so broken Tommy almost loss it in front of him.
Tommy put his hand on Joel’s arm with delicacy on his touch “No. We are getting her home”
“My baby…” Joel whispered, looking at your face again, caressing the skin, his fingertips shook when he got to touch your face, like he was trying to remember it in case he could never touch you again, "She can't… she can't leave me."
Tommy's own eyes stung, but he held it back, trying to stay calm. "That's why we will move. Joel—look at me. She is still alive."
Joel looked away from your face and stared intently at Tommy, as if he was trying to stop himself from breaking down in front of them.
Nick stood still a short distance away, his face looked very scared as if he knew what was coming for him.
"I should've stopped this. I should've… I knew Mara was changing for the worse. I should've told you—both of you—"
Joel quickly turned his head toward Nick, his eyes both sending daggers to him "Not right now."
His voice sounded harsh and broken. "We are not having this conversation right now.”
Tommy squeezed Joel’s arm tightly. “Let me carry her.”
Joel froze for a few seconds. He stared down at you on his arms, your blood imprinting on his, your head leaned towards him because your body knew it was him, even in a daze.
But then, he slowly put one arm behind your back, the other under your knees, lifting you gently just as he had promised just weeks ago.
Only when he felt all of your weight near his chest did Joel breathe again, stuttering, not smooth.
He leaned his head closer, his forehead to yours.
“Come on, baby,” he mumbled, barely heard. “Just a bit more.”
Tommy and Jesse wiggled, made room for Joel to walk with you in his arms, but still, he didn’t clearly notice them. His mind was only on the heat and coldness irradiating from your body.
Nick came up, his voice hushed. “Joel—"
Joel then grunted. He didn’t want to hear excuses; not even know why you were dying in his arms. He just wanted to keep you alive.
Joel stepped out the room, not looking up once, hugging his entire world tighter against his body.
Joel didn't remember how he'd ended up here, back in Jackson with you in his arms, and how now you were lying unconscious in a bed, but safe from danger—or so he wanted to believe, for his own sake, for his sanity, for his life.
There were scenarios he always used to imagine, but in those where he lost you, he always lost his composure. There was no way for Joel to survive the pain of not having you, of not seeing you, or of never being able to touch you again. From the moment you came into his life, everything changed. After years in which he didn't know how to find a reason to keep living, you arrived, and from one moment to the next, every second of the day was worth it because he was going to be where you were, in your arms, to your kisses, to your cinnamon scent that healed his heart so much.
And I really had no idea how you had been strong enough to cope with the pain and despair because if you loved him with the same intensity as he loved you, I didn't understand how you didn't break down when he was in this same situation six months ago.
How you were even strong to save him from his own death.
Joel hadn’t moved from the chair at your bedside since they brought you in. His elbows rested on his knees, and his hands intertwined with yours so tightly his knuckles were white.
His eyes never left your face. They were glue to your face, he even tried not to blink for so long.
“Joel”
Tommy broke the silence that had consumed Joel for almost twenty-four hours. His voice was too gentle. “You need rest.”
But Joel didn’t react to the sound, so Tommy tried again by pulling up a chair next to his brother.
“You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours. You had barely breathed since we left that lodge. Let me stay with her for a bit. You go home, shower, lie down—”
“No.” Joel’s voice cracked at the end, but was firm enough. He shook his head, eyes still glued to your face. “I’m not leaving her alone.”
Tommy exhaled “Joel… c’mon, brother. If you go down like this, you aren’t helping her. Just one hour. One hour to close your eyes.”
Joel lifted his gaze to his brother and the look on his face nearly broke Tommy.
Joel seemed like man hollowed out, drained of everything but love and terror inside him.
“I can’t,” Joel whispered, voice fragile. He swallowed, eyes watering. “I can’t go back to that bed.”
Tommy blinked, not expecting that.
Joel’s breath shook “I can’t go back to sleep in a bed without my wife by my side.”
Your hand rested under his big trembling one. He brought it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles.
“That bed isn’t a bed without her. It’s just an empty space.”
Tommy’s jaw tightened. “Joel… she’s alive. She’s still with us.”
Joel dropped his head next to your arm, forehead pressing against your wrist.
“Not until she opens her eyes,” he whispered. “Not until she looks at me. Not until she says my name. That’s when I’ll believe she’s still here.”
He squeezed your hand again, tender, desperate, begging to the universe for you to open your eyes.
“What are you doing with Nick?” Joel asked, looking at his brother while still holding your hand.
“We don’t know.”
“He and Mara tried to kill her”
“But he didn’t”
“But he was involved in all of this!” Joel snapped, “And if my wife doesn’t wake up, I will kill him with my own hands”
Tommy sighed “All this revenge had taken us to this, Joel. This needs to stop at some point.”
“Leave” Joel asked, even begged “Just leave, please”
At that moment, Tommy knew better than to argue with Joel. He wasn't the same man he used to talk to every day, not the same man he'd become since arriving here. Right now, he was a man burdened by the pain of not being able to protect you as much as he'd once feared.
Tommy sighed and left the room, leaving Joel, who hadn't noticed, had shed a tear into your hand, one of the many he could no longer hold back.
“I’ve seen you go back and forth a thousand times before,” Joel said, clutching your bloody hand in his, his voice breaking, weak. He laid his head on your stomach, holding onto the faint rhythm of your heartbeat as the only sign he had of you still clutching to life.
“And if I can’t make you stay with me in this life…what would of my, baby?” His breath hitched, heavy with the weight of a future he feared “I swear I’m not forcing you to stay, because we both know you deserve better that what I ever gave you. But you—” he paused, his finger tightened around yours, “you’ve always been the strongest one. And that love you got for me…It’s what makes you better. What makes you human.”
He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, eyes shut, voice breaking into a whisper as he poured all his strength on you, “You make me feel human, too. You make me feel like there’s still a piece of me that hasn’t die yet. And I can’t believe how strong you were to stay by my side after what happened to me…because seeing you like this now,” he swallowed hard, a tear slipping down his cheek “burns right through my chest.”
He pressed his forehead against the back of your hand and begged you, “Please, baby…don’t let this be the last time I get to hold you.”
……
Boston QZ, 7 years ago
It was already past the curfew time, later for anyone sane to be outside. You and Joel were in you was back from one of those smuggling runs that went sideways, both of you ducking into the shadowed hallways without soldiers noticing.
Your lungs burned and Joel’s shirt was still dusted by the dirt.
You leaned against the wall, catching your breath. Joel stopped in front of you, face tight with worry.
“You could’ve been shot,” he muttered, his voice raspy as usual
“But I wasn’t” you said, letting out a breathless laugh.
“You know that’s not the point.”
Your eyebrows frowned, looking up at him. Joel wasn’t looking at the injuries in your arms, but at you.
Softly, focused and terrified.
You took a quiet step toward him, chest already brushing his. “Joel… it’s okay.”
His jaw clenched. “No. It isn’t”
You could see the fear trembling under his chest, fear he didn’t let anyone see. Not even Tess.
Only you could see it in the daylight.
Your hand lifted to touch his face, brushing the bruise on his cheek, with delicacy. He stiffed, just for a moment, but then leaned into your palm like he didn’t mean to, like his body betrayed him.
“Why do you care so much about me?” you whispered.
Joel breathed out your name like like a promise he was terrified to make to himself.
“I’m not supposed to,” he murmured.
You froze, even your touch on his face.
Then his gaze dropped to your lips.
He looked like he was standing on the edge of a cliff with no way back.
Either way, he would fall.
Then, in a gravel-soft voice that sounded like it hurt him—
“You terrify me” he whispered, cupping your face gently,
“Joel—”
His lips touched yours reverently, pouring fear and anxiety into a kiss he needed to give.
Not rough.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
A trembling, careful, aching kiss, as if he was terrified that the moment he tasted you, he’d never be able to stop doing it.
Once he fell, he could never stand up and walk without you.
When he pulled back, his breath was shaky.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, forehead against yours. “I’m scared ‘cause I think if I lose you that’ll be it for me. That’ll be the last damn straw my heart can take.”
You grabbed his shirt and kissed him again, deeper this time, your body bowing into his, melting together.
When you finally broke apart, Joel pressed your hand to his chest, right over the frantic beating of his heart.
“Damn you, baby” he whispered.
………………………
Somewhere in the Highway, 6 years ago
The argument had been so stupid, born out of the exhaustion you both felt after hours of walking under the sun.
You’d insisted on taking the back road, the flatter path along the river, but Joel had insisted on the ridge route, which gave more visibility to your surroundings.
“Joel, it’s two extra hours climbing rocks for no reason,” you’d snapped, breathless.
“It’s safer,” he bit back, stubbornly.
“It’s harder and you’re tired.”
“I’m not.”
“Joel—”
“I said we’re taking the ridge.” His voice cracked, final.
Ellie looked between the two of you quietly, chewing her lip.
You stared him down. “You don’t have to bark orders at me. I’m not one of those stupid men who worked for you.”
“I’m not treating you like one.”
“You are.”
His jaw clenched, tense. He picked the skin of his neck in annoyance.
“Fine,” you muttered. “Do whatever you want.”
“Fine.”
And that was that. You and Ellie followed him.
Hours later, Ellie was walking ahead, humming to herself, badly pretending she couldn’t feel the tension building behind.
One she could cut with her knife.
Joel stayed several paces behind you, silent, but not taking his eyes off of you.
That was how he punished himself and how he punished you.
It was the same silence he used when he was afraid of what he’d say if he opened his mouth.
And God, it burned his lungs right now.
Every time you slowed your pace, he slowed his pace. Every time you sped up, he lingered behind.
“He’s being super dramatic.” Ellie shot you a look at one point, whispering,
You scoffed under your breath. “Tell me about it.”
Joel’s eyes flicked to you at the sound of your voice, involuntary, and then he tore them away again, pretending to scan the treeline when your gaze met his for a flicker second.
But his fingers twitched at his sides.
He hated fighting with you.
Because every argument scraped at an old wound inside him, the fear that loving someone meant losing them.
And losing you? That fear was killing him from the inside.
By late afternoon, you were climbing down a slope when your boot slipped on a cracked ground.
“Hey!” he shouted, grabbing your arm so fast it nearly jerked your shoulder off your body.
His hands were all over you, checking, touching, caressing your cheeks “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Tell me.”
You blinked, startled. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t let go of your touch. He didn’t even pretend to look calm.
“Jesus… don’t do that.” He whispered.
Your heart softened. “You weren’t even talking to me,” you murmured.
Joel swallowed, eyes flicking over your face. “I know,” he rasped, frustrated. “I just… I get scared. And then I get angry. And then I say shit I don’t mean.”
You touched his arm. “Joel—”
He finally met your eyes.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he whispered. A beg that came out of nowhere.
Almost afraid.
“I’m not. Never.” you whispered back.
Joel must have drifted off without realizing it, his head pressed against the edge of the bed, your hand still locked in his.
When he jerked awake, heart slamming against his ribs, the first thing he did was look at you.
But you were still breathing.
Relief and terror tangled so tight in his chest it hurt.
Then he felt that prickle at the back of his neck. Joel’s eyes lifted and his head turned back to the door.
Nick stood there, as if waiting with his hands clasped tight in front of him like he didn’t know what to do with them. He was exhausted and ashamed of facing Joel.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Joel growled, standing abruptly.
Nick stiffened but didn’t move from where he was standing “I just—”
Joel was already crossing the room, finger stabbing toward him.
“You got some nerve showing your face in here,” he hissed. “After what happened.”
Nick swallowed hard. “I came to see if she—”
Joel laughed; the sound broke by the end “You don’t get to check on her. Not after you let her walk into that trap.”
Nick flinched, guilt flashing raw across his face. “I didn’t let her—“
“You did!” Joel cried out, “You almost got her killed and for what?”
“Because mara got me! Okay? I didn't want to lose the only family I had left and I panicked,” Nick finished hoarsely “I met Mara years ago when we were both part of the fireflies.”
Joel’s eyes widened.
Nick dragged a hand down his face, shame written into every line of him. “They always said we were doing the right thing” he murmured bitterly at the memories “That we were doing what had to be done. But it was always about control. About the same power we rejected.” His jaw clenched “Lucas liked to pretend he was better than the rest. Harry… he just followed whoever with power.”
He looked up at Joel again, eyes red, pleading to be understood.
“I was the youngest. I learned early that if I didn’t agree, I didn’t belong. And I was so fucking scared of being alone that I kept telling myself it wasn’t that bad.” His breath hitched. “That we weren’t like FEDRA. That we weren’t monsters.”
Nick shook his head “But we were. Maybe not all the time. But enough.”
He glanced toward you sleeping form on bed, his voice dropping. “And she saw me for what I was. Even when I tried to hide it.”
His eyes drifted to Joel’s once again “That’s why when you took that hospital, you set me free.”
Joel swallowed.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I was there.” His voice was rough, scraped raw. “And I know it was you. And her.”
Nick’s breath stuttered “But she killed my brother Lucas. Mara’s partner and the father of her child.”
“So, it was revenge.”
Nick shook his head slowly, almost violently, like he needed Joel to believe him.
“Not from me,” he said hoarsely. “Never from me.”
Joel’s eyes stayed locked on him, sharp and unblinking, but his hand remained curled around yours, grounding himself in the rise and fall of your chest.
“Lucas was already gone,” Nick went on, voice trembling. “Not dead—gone. He chose that life over and over again. He chose Mara. He chose the kind of world where people like you and her didn’t get to survive.”
He swallowed; it was difficult for him to speak. “She didn’t kill him because she wanted revenge. She killed him because he was going to kill her. There was no other way out.”
Joel’s jaw tensed at all this information.
“And Mara?” Joel asked quietly, carefully.
Nick’s eyes dropped to the floor. “Mara didn’t want justice. She wanted to make her suffer. To make you suffer.” His voice cracked. “She said if she couldn’t have a future she didn’t deserve.”
Joel exhaled “That doesn’t make this fair.”
“I know,” Nick whispered. “Nothing about it is.”
Joel looked back at you then, at the way your brow was faintly furrowed even in sleep, like you were fighting.
“She’s always been the kind to carry the weight,” Joel murmured. “So, others don’t have to.”
Nick nodded. “And she pays the price.”
Joel also nodded, agreeing with Nick “What about your other brother?”
Nick sighed “He is part of that group, those in Seattle. from the same group that attacked you back then, the ones she eliminated. Harry had been looking for her ever since Lucas died.” Nick exhaled, defeated. “Ever since my brother died.” His hands curled into fists. “He thinks she took everything from him. He doesn’t see what Lucas was becoming. He doesn’t see what Mara turned into. All he sees is blood and blame.”
Joel looked back at you again, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles, as if reminding himself you were still here.
“If he comes anywhere near her,” Joel said, voice flat. He was exhausted “he won’t get a second chance.”
Nick nodded immediately. “I won’t let him.”
That made Joel’s gaze snap back to him. “You won’t warn him.”
“My brother didn’t care about me, so I’m not going to give him the chance to destroy the place I could call home.” Nick said, promising Joel something that perhaps seemed void.
“I’m leaving. I'll burn that lodge and I'll wait for them to arrive and tell them I finished her and mara was on the way too."
“And then?” Joel asked, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion pulling him down.
Nick didn’t look away. “I’ll find a new place to be from.”
Joel studied him, testing intent instead of words.
“I’ll make it look like the end of the road,” Nick continued. “No body. No trail. Just ashes and a story that satisfies their need for closure.” His voice dipped. “People like them don’t keep searching forever if they think the monster already won.”
Joel’s grip tightened slightly around your hand. “And if they don’t buy it?”
Nick’s mouth twitched, humorless. “Then they’ll come for me instead.”
Silence took over them
“That isn’t a life,” Joel said finally.
Nick shook his head. “Neither is watching her die because of other people choices.” He said, with a second intention behind those words.
Joel knew.
Joel exhaled through his nose, eyes drifting back to you, your chest rising and falling steadily.
“You don’t get redemption easy,” Joel said, meeting Nick’s eyes all over again.
“I know,” Nick replied. “And I’m not asking for it.”
Joel nodded “You do this quiet. You don’t lead trouble back here. And if I hear one whisper that you put her name in anyone’s mouth—”
“You won’t,” Nick said immediately. “I swear it.”
Joel held his gaze a moment longer, then looked away, leaning down to press his lips gently to your knuckles.
“Go,” Joel said. “And don’t come back unless it’s safe for you and this place.”
Nick hesitated, then turned toward the door. Before leaving, he stopped.
“She fought to stay good,” he said softly. “Even when it would’ve been easier not to.”
Joel didn’t look up. “That’s why she’s still alive.”
“And the reason why you are still here.” He added, then he closed the door behind him, without saying goodbye.
Joel stayed where he was, hand warm around yours with some weight lifted off his shoulders.
Another day went by and you were still sleeping. That’s how Joel wanted to call it, in the way he eased the pain of not waking up to your face on his neck or your smile first thing in the morning.
You were still warm to his touch, you still irradiated that.
There were days when he thought of you as a fragment of his imagination.
The first time he saw you he thought you were an angel but because the look in your face still reminded him of those old good days where people used to meet gaze across the street and smiling warmly. When he got a home to come back to, to a daughter, when he had taken all that for granted.
The favorite memory of you was the first rime you slept together. That night you didn't have sex, but the way you hold his hand that time when the cold found its way right inside his bones meant he was feeling something warm inside his chest.
He didn't want to admit it back then, but something in him had shifted. He let his guard down and opened a new space inside his heart to welcome you in.
And right now, he felt all the emotions tangled together.
Regret.
Despair.
Rage.
Nostalgia.
But deep-down sadness had invaded his bones, creping step by set settled inside like a warp of a poisonous blanket
What would be of him without you?
Joel hadn’t moved from this chair by your bed. His hand still wrapped around yours like a second heart keeping you steady. He had even memories how many times your chest rose.
But then the door creaked.
Ellie stood in the doorway. She didn’t step in right away, she didn’t dare to, but Joel noticed the way her eyes flicked to you, then to him. Her jaw was clenched.
“You look like shit,” she blurted out-
Joel didn’t follow those words, “You shouldn’t be here if you’re gonna start.”
Ellie scoffed and stepped inside anyway; sneakers soft over the ground. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not here for you.”
She stopped at the foot of the bed. Stared at you for a long moment not believing you were in this state.
Unconscious, face full of bruises, ribs broken. She remembered her own aftermath.
“You scared the hell out of everyone,” Ellie muttered. “You know that?”
Joel swallowed. “Yeah.”
Silence pressed in again, thick and awkward and heavy with the story them both held
Then Ellie turned on him, eyes flashing with tender and anger. “You don’t get to look at me like that,” she snapped. “Like this is somehow my fault.”
“I haven’t said a word,” Joel replied, but his voice was tight.
“You don’t have to,” Ellie shot back. “You never do.”
She paced once; hands clenched. “You always think you’re the only one allowed to make hard choices.”
Joel’s head snapped up. “Ellie—”
“No,” she cut in. “I get to say this.”
She pointed toward you, finger shaking. “She almost died. Because people like us don’t get clean endings. And you—” her voice cracked despite her anger raising, “—you looked like you were gonna fall apart when you brought her in.”
Joel exhaled, eyes dropping to your face “I almost did.”
Her shoulders sagged just a fraction of time. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I saw.”
Another beat of thick silence passed.
“But I get it,” she said, voice rough. “I get why you did it. Back then. At the hospital.”
Joel’s head lifted; eyes widened.
Ellie didn’t meet his eyes. She kept staring at you instead. “I hated you for a long time. Still do sometimes.” A humorless huff followed by a heavy breath of air. “But if it was her on that table… if it was someone, I loved that much…”
Her throat bobbed. She swallowed with difficulty.
“I wouldn’t have let them take her either.”
Joel’s chest tightened at those words.
Ellie finally looked at him then, softly this time “So yeah. You’re still a selfish asshole.” A beat. “But you’re not wrong for loving her. That’s what you do the best.”
Joel’s voice came out hoarse. “She saved me,” he said simply. “
Ellie nodded once, like she didn’t trust herself to linger there.
“I understand that feeling now.” She confessed
“Dina?” Joel asked, waiting for the confirmation
Ellie nodded without saying another word about it. There weren’t at that part yet.
Ellie lingered a second longer, then turned for the door.
“Joel?” she said without looking back.
“Yeah?”
“If she wakes up…” Ellie paused. “Tell her I was too scared to come in sooner.”
Joel nodded. “I will.”
The door closed behind Ellie and Joel leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently against your knuckles, voice breaking and followed by a tiny laugh
“See, baby? You’re still bringing’ us back together.”
An entire week passed by.
Seven mornings where Joel woke in the chair beside your bed, spine screaming from pain, eyes burning, heart pounding with the same question every single time.
Were you going to wake up today?
Seven nights where he talked to you like you were listening. Like you might answer if he said the right thing.
At first it was gentle, he had hope flickering. With him telling you about Ellie and how she hovered nearby pretending not to care about him, how she brought soup and left it untouched on the table for him to eat something.
He brushed your hair back every morning. Wiped your lips with a damp cloth, then holding your hand all over again.
“C’mon, baby,” he whispered, begging.
But promises started to rot when days kept passing. Even the bruises in your face had started to fade, leaving only some scars and color was coming back to your face.
By the end of the week, his voice wasn’t so soft anymore.
That morning, the sun crept through the window, landing right on your face. You didn’t even stir as if you couldn’t feel anything.
Joel sat there staring at you, jaw tight, hands clenched so hard his knuckles went white.
“Are you serious right now?” he whispered, anger creeping in.
And he was met with silence all over again.
His chest rose in anger “You fought your way out worse than this,”
Still nothing.
He stood abruptly, chair scraping back. Ran a hand through his hair, pacing all over the room.
“You dragged me out of my own death,” he snapped, voice breaking through anger. “You carried you through snow. You don’t just—” He cut himself off, breath shuddering. “You don’t do that just for leaving me.”
He stopped at your bedside again, looming now, eyes red and furious, not at you, but at the fear splitting his ribs open.
“Fuck! Say something,” he demanded. “Yell at me. Curse me out. Tell me I’m an asshole. You’re really good at that.”
His throat closed, tears slipping down his cheeks.
“You survived me. Don’t tell me this is what takes you.”
His hands shook as he reached for you again, but this time he stopped before touching your skin.
Something in him cracked at that “I can’t do this,” he said suddenly, backing away. “I can’t sit here anymore.”
He turned toward the door, then stopped, shoulders trembling.
“I need you to fight,” he said over his shoulder, voice raw. “And if you won’t—”
He swallowed hard. “I can’t be the only one trying’ to keep us alive.”
Joel left and the door closed softly behind him, like the room itself was holding its breath.
And for the first time in a week, you were alone in the room.
Your fingers twitched, as a sign to mean something had heard.
“Figured I’d find you here,” Tommy said quietly, closing the door behind him.
Joel didn’t look up. “Is the meeting over?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, even breathing was difficult.
Tommy pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “You shouldn’t have left her like that.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his hands flexing once like he was fighting the urge to hit something. “Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t start.”
Tommy leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I’m not judging you. I’m worried about you.”
Joel let out a breath that sounded like a laugh. “I sat there for a week, Tommy. Talking to her like a damn fool. Begging her. Promising things I don’t even know I can keep.” He finally looked up; eyes bloodshot. “And she didn’t move. No once.”
“And I’m angry, yes. I’m actually furious with her right now.” He added.
“You cannot be for real right now” Tommy said, not believing his brother words
“Why she doesn’t wake up then? Uh? Tell me right now why?”
“Joel…”
“No, because why did I wake up to her voice but she cannot do the same with me?”
Joel was a strong man, but you are his biggest weakness, after all, you were the one who carried his own heart in your hands, the same one he gave you with fear, but which over time felt like the right decision, the only right decision he could have made.
“I hate this tommy. I hate that I need her more than she could ever need me.”
“You know that’s not true. It seems to me that she is somehow resting, her body must be exhausted and…she will wake up soon, I know.”
“You don’t know a fuck. Because you have your wife, you have your child, you have a family and I don’t!” his voice broke “She lost our baby I didn’t even know about, I pushed her away so many times I can’t even stand she is punishing me now for it.”
“So instead of doing better you’re going to stay here, while she is laying in bed?”
But Joel didn’t reply.
“Be fucking man, Joel.” Tommy said, leaving his brother alone.
You opened your eyes slowly, sleep still enveloping your foggy state of mind. Today was one of those moments where the exhaustion had taken over your body. Life felt like a fragile threat pulling you toward a dark night wich you probably wouldn’t return if you let go. Something strong and warm embraced you, like a mother’s arm showering you with love in such a simple act. But the warmth of her love also radiated from the other side, a warmth you didn’t want to let go of, a warmth you longed to return to.
Peace against pain.
Warm and rest.
Two strong arms and the scent of wood mixed with a pain you needed to face to return back home.
Perhaps this was your signal, the call back. Perhaps this was him begging you to wake up from darkness.
And that’s how it was. A sharp electric stab ran through your ribs, tearing a gasp from your throat, gasping for air as your eyes opened with force, vision blurring at the beginning and the world tilting around you before the glow of a dim lamp next to you before you felt at home for a second.
“Hey her, easy, please slow down.”
Ellie’s voice broke the silence that had accompanied you for the past few days.
She was sitting right beside you, hunched forward in a chair pulled so closer her knees nearly touching the mattress of the bed you were laying on.
Her eyes were rimmed red, expressing exhaustion inside them from lack of sleep or crying, perhaps, you couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both, you didn’t know.
A whimper escaped you as another wave of pain crashed through your side, and your hand weakly clutched at the blanket trying to calm yourself down.
“It hurts…” you breathed with difficulty.
“I know,” Ellie whispered, gently pressing your shoulder to keep you from squirming so much. “You have your ribs broken. Don’t try to sit up.”
You blinked your tears away, both from physical pain and internal pain, your mind raced. But something was wrong. Something was missing inside the room, in your view.
A voice.
“Joel,” you rasped, breath shaky. “Where is Joel?”
Ellie froze at the mention of his name.
Her entire face stilled; eyes widened. Her lips parted and all her breath caught in the space between her chest and her throat.
“Joel?” she asked, like she wasn’t sure she’s heard right.
You managed the smallest nod, confusion drawn on your brow. “Where…is he? He was…” you swallowed; throat closed “He was here.”
Ellie’s mouth opened, then closed. She looked away, then back at you. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. Her throat bobbled.
She looked like that teen you saw for the first time back at Boston, too scared, too young to be bearer of pain.
“You don’t…remember?” she asked carefully.
Your heaty dropped into your stomach at thar question, fear wrapped its arms around your body.
“Remember what?” you whispered.
Ellie’s eyes glossed with tears she tried too hard to blink away. You noticed. She shook her head, as if willing the truth to stay buried. But she’d promised you once she’d never lie to you again.
And she didn’t. She couldn’t hide the truth from you.
“Joel…” Her voice cracked, breaking a bit in the middle. “Joel died. Months ago.”
The world stopped.
Your breath hitched violently, your pulse roaring in your ears. You stared at her, uncomprehending, your head shaking the tiniest bit as if refusing to let the word sink in.
“N-no,” you managed, voice trembling. “No, Ellie—I saved him. I… I saved him. I remember—at the lodge—I saved him. I—” Your breath stuttered. “He came back to me.”
“You couldn’t save him,” Ellie whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. You tried. But he didn’t make it.
Her words slice throughout your heart, cracking it open in slow, excruciating pulses.
The pain in your body felt nothing. Nothing compared to this.
…
The scream ripped out of you before you even knew you were awake. Even before your mind made sense of yourself.
Your lungs burnt, nails clawing at the sheets
“No! No, please—Joel!” your voice breaking on a desperate, guttural scream.
A nurse rushed to your side; hands gentle but firm as she tried to keep you from hurting yourself.
“Hey—hey, you’re safe, you’re safe, just breathe—”
But you couldn’t. You didn’t feel your lungs.
You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t see straight right now. The room spun, your heartbeat exploding like gunfire in your ears as your tears slid down your cheeks. Every inch of your body burned, ribs splitting open.
Because Joel was gone.
He was gone and he wasn’t next to you.
Your sobs tore apart your throat, raw and broken, your body shaking uncontrollably. The nurse tried to soothe you, to hold you down gently, calling for help, but your mind was still trapped in the world without Joel in it.
“Joel!” you cried again, voice shattering as you called out for him “Please, don’t leave me.” You begged, your throat burning.
You closed your eyes, only feeling the fingers of the nurses wrapped around your wrists, trying to soothe you, to calm you down.
You didn’t hear the door slam open, nor the boots coming across the room.
Not the pair of hands cupping your face.
“Hey, hey, baby!”
Your heart lurched so violently it hurt. Your breath hitched for a second. You blinked through the blur of tears, and saw him.
You stared at him, sobbing, shaking your head in disbelief.
“No…” you whispered; voice tiny. “No, you’re not—this isn’t real—”
“Hey,” he breathed, forehead nearly touching yours, “I’m right here. I’m real. I swear it.”
But you were still trembling and crying, still flinched as if afraid he’d turn to dust in your hands.
“She is disoriented.” The nurse said softly, glancing between you two.
Joel swallowed, his thumb brushing your cheeks, wiping tears that wouldn’t stop.
“Look at me,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Look at me, honey.”
You met his gaze, and he leaned forward, pressed his forehead to yours, breathing you in like he’d been drowning for weeks.
“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re right here with me.”
You sobbed again, your hands gripping weakly at his shirt like you were terrified he’d disappear.
The nurse held up a syringe, gaze meeting Joel’s. He nodded immediately, one arm wrapping around you, pulling you gently against his chest.
“Do it,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I got her. I’m here.”
You felt the sting of the injection on your arm.
You also felt Joel’s arms tighten around you as your breathing began to slow, his hand stroking the back of your head, his lips pressed to your temple.
“It’s okay,” he whispered on your skin “You’re safe now. I’m sorry, baby. I’m her. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your sobs softened as your eyelids grew heavy. You clung to him until your grip loosened, your body sinking into the bed.
And the last thing you felt before sleep pulled you under was Joel’s heartbeat under your ear.
To his scent and his warmth.
A/N: Sorry it took me so long to post this. When I chose to write this story th ending was always clear. The reader was going to die, but the process kept being this. I chose not to. She is okay now, and I won't make her suffer like this anymore.
tags: If you want to be removed, please let me know.
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