Nothings Lost - Joel x OC Pt. 1
Pairing - Joel x OC
Warnings - None right now
WC - Roughly 2.5k
Summary - Josephine Bailey was a loner, separated from her family on outbreak day she had never created a group of stayed with people. A fighter, she never gave up finding her family (even after setting in a small community in NW Washington State). When she receives word that her family is alive in Jackson Wyoming, she goes to see if its a reality. Not realizing she would finally have to lose some independence.
________________________________________________________________
The world was quiet, water softly rushing in the distance. Streams and little bodies of water covered the northwest tip of Washington state. Always green and blossoming with life. The world was peaceful in this area, no one bothering the occupants because of the harsh weather. The constant rain and gloominess, kept most of the remaining survivors safe.
Jo stood from the spot she sat at, watching as a rare deer ran off. A heavy sigh leaving her lips, she placed her bow back onto her back. The wood curved perfectly to her back. Crackles of thunder roared over her as she made her way back to camp. Her beat-up brown boots sloshed in the muddy grass, hat keeping her face from the rain. Her mothers favorite cowboy hat had made it through these twenty years.
Jo gazed out at the open world, nothing destroyed and sad here, only the weather. No fungus, no infection. She was happy, content with her little town. Her feet led her to the community. It had only about fifteen houses, a market and stables. She continued to slosh her way down to the market. As she entered the old minute mart, her friend Julia stood behind the old counter.
Julia was about Jo’s age, around mid thirties. She was sweet, rough and rugged but sweet. Julia was the towns main woman for food, mail, rumors, ammo, etc. She had it all. Julia turned her attention to Jo, giving her a small grin.
“What can I do for you today Ms. Bailey?”
Giving a tiny wave, she spoke up. “Nothing much, I need some arrows from Vince and some apples. Gonna make a pie.” She stated, hands resting up on the counter just across from Julia’s.
Julia nodded, bun bouncing slightly as she turned to grab a bushel. “Oh! A letter came in for you today. Signed C.B.” Voice quieting.
Jo’s face completly shifted, something she hadn’t seen since she was about fourteen. Claire Bailey. Her oldest sister, she was about five years older than Jo. Her hands moistened at the thought of family still out there. “Give it to me.” She paused not seeing Julia rush. “Now!” She raised her voice to let the other woman know it was important.
Julia whispered an okay and grabbed it from below her post. A little white envelope with charcoal etched on the front ‘To Josephine Bailey.’ Jo gulped-hard, ripping open the prehistoric paper. An old faded piece of lined school paper laid in her hands. Eyes scanning quickly she read: ‘Josephine baby, if you’re in Quileute please find us. Father, Nick, me and Lisa are in Jackson Wyoming. We miss you so much and hope you’re still alive or in your community. We have safety, food, a house and anything else you need. I’ll tell you about mom and Alex when you get here. xoxo’
Salty tears welled up in the woman’s eyes, her heart racing through her chest. Nothing could’ve prepared her for this, she was in Jackson only a year ago and they weren’t. They had just passed each other. Sighing heavily, she gazed back up at Julia, pausing as she thought of what to do.
“I’m gonna need all the arrows you can give me, all the ammo you can muster, a shine on my knife and two bags of oats.” Was all she said, slamming a few pieces of jewels on the counter.
“I want the ring.” Julia bluntly spoke, eyeing the jade ring on Jo’s pinky finger. Huffing, she yanked it off and handed it to Julia. “Nice doing business with you.” Julia smirked, eyeing it now on her own finger.
Jo left the market with a bag full of essentials. Ready for her adventure back out east. — 2 weeks and 3 days later — Jo didn’t have much trouble on the road, pretty smooth riding. Ran into a few clickers and maybe two runners but otherwise it was scenic. Her horse Alpa was used to the long rides, he was smooth and quick when he needed to be and trusted Jo. The two worked hand in hand to get safely to Jackson.
Alpa walked slowly to the large wooden front gate of the town. Two guards standing at watch posts. Lifting their guns to her.
“State your business.” One ordered, not talking his eyes off her.
Her eyes ran between the two, hand resting on her old Winchester. Eyes resting on the one that talked first, she spoke up. “Family found sanctuary, I’m here to meet em’.”
“Which family?” He asked again.
The woman’s eyes rolled with annoyance. “Baileys.” Fingers now tapping the gun in a little pattern.
“You been bit?” The other guy asked, eyes looking her up and down. “Don’t lie cause we’ll check.”
Scoffing, “No, I know how to handle the infected.” She spat, voice not raising but still sounding menacing.
With a huff the men check her, noticing nothing unusual about her, they open the gate. Jo nods their way and follows the signs to the stables. A short ride to the left, Alpa had grown tired at the sight of a place to sleep. A man stood in front of the stables, tying some rope. His eyes caught her figure, up on the large stallion. The man waved her over.
His eyes are aging, crows feet almost hiding them. Hair still pretty dark but slightly graying. The man looked like he was the guy in charge of this whole operation. “And who might you be?” He asked, eyeing the horse before turning to Jo.
Jo held Alpa’s reins tight, patting his neck soothingly. “I’m Josephine Bailey, Hanson Baileys daughter.” She said, her eyes searched his.
“Oh, no shit?” He chuckled at her. “Let’s put this fine stead away and I’ll lead you there!” He smiled, taking the reins from her.
Her fingers tapped on her blue jeans as she waited for him to tie Alpa up. Jo grabbed her own luggage and swung it over her shoulders. The weight not bothering her, she had grown muscular over the years. Packing and fighting on her own. Jo never needed a partner besides Alpa and she liked it that way.
The man went to help her, hands going to grab her bow. “I got it.” She snapped, her fingers snatching it from him.
He smiled at her independence and backed off. “This way Ms. Bailey.”
The two walked down the busy streets, feet matching in pace. Hers maybe a little faster than him. Heart exploding in her chest as she thought of being reunited with her family. The last thing she had said to any of them was ‘I love you’ thankfully.
The man led them to a large house, two stories, faded blue paint and dirty white trim. The door had a screen closed and front door open. Guitar playing out for them to hear. Nick. He played in high school and was absolutely amazing at it. A wide grin grew on her cheeks. hands squeezing tight as she thanked the man.
Jo ran like she never had before up the stairs, feet stomping loudly and the guitar playing coming to a halt. “Nick!” She yelled, slamming the screen open and speeding to the living room. He was standing in the corner, eyes widened and mouth agape as he watched her run to her.
She was smaller than he remembers, hair still wavy and a mess. Now a few grays but she carried the youth in her face well. She almost hadn’t changed at all. A few cuts and scars but nothing astronomical. His arms opened almost without thought and wrapped tightly around her.
“Jo girl. I can’t believe you’re here.” His eyes welled with tears as she inhaled his smell. His heart swelled a million times bigger than just a few seconds before.
“Claire told me you were here.” Her voice breaking at the tears choking back in her throat.
Nick pulled back looking towards the old wooden stairs. “Dad, Claire, Lisa! Jo is here!” His words echoed throughout the house. Almost shaking the shutters outside.
More heavy footsteps raced down the stairs, the house moving with the thumps of the feet. First came Lisa, the youngest of all the Bailey’s. Her hair a dirty blonde, she had it tied in a loose bun. A long dress wrapped around her body. She was a woman now; last Jo had seen her she was just a small girl. Her face still round like when she was a child, it kept her looking youthful.
Lisa embraced Jo tightly, her arms squeezing at Pennie’s aching back. “I can’t believe you’re here.” Her voice squeezed with the tightness of the hug. “Claire and I wrote the letter hoping you would turn up some day.” Lisa rested her head softly on Jo.
Nick joined in, hugging the two girls. Two extra arms wrapped around the three, the smell of old cigars followed suit. Dad, Jo thought. “Where’s Claire?” Jo asked, her voice muffled from Nicks chest.
Her father grumbled, “Probably out chasing that Lance boy.” She hadn’t changed it seemed, always finding some new guy to love on.
The bunch pulled away all gazing at Jo, they thought she had died. The night Jo was separated, the family went to the school and just as they missed each other by a year with Jackson. It was only about 2 hours that night. They didn’t know where she would’ve gone, no average family really talks about the world ending. So, they drove and drove not knowing where she would be and the house was pretty much destroyed. Jo ending up in a car she had stolen from her now infected neighbors.
Her dad spoke up, watering eyes blurring his vision just a bit. “Lets eat some food.” He sighed, reaching out to hug his long-lost daughter.
~~~
Jackson was different than Quileute, there were lots of houses, a bar and more. No freezing rain or massive lightning storms. The towns people were kind, open, and welcoming. Trees were sparse but comparable to the Northwest. The smell absolutely alien to her. She was used to mildew and salt water; she got mud and lavender.
Jo had learned that the man that helped her find her families house was Tommy Miller. The leader of the town. He was nice enough, helpful. She hadn’t left the house much, if at all. She wanted to be with her family after not being for so long. They gave her, her little brothers old room. She grieved for Alex for about 4 days, looking at his collected trinkets. He was a sweet boy and the second youngest, a star basketball player. One film picture of him after the apocalypse sat on his dresser and she placed it in her beat-up wallet.
Jo took time one afternoon to clear out some of Alex’s stuff and placed it in the attic with her mother’s stuff. Just as she grieved Alex, she did her mother. That one burning just a bit more, her mother was good and soft. Wholesome and kind, she was a gentle woman.
She moved her small amount of things in. Her dresser basically empty, only a pair of cargo pants, an old grey Carhartt hoodie from Alex, and a thermal shirt sat inside. The room was lit by candles and oil lamps, walls a soft green and the furniture made of some type of wood. Maybe oak, maybe pine? Who cares. Her film camera sat on the dresser, waiting to be used. The smell of dust and fresh air mixed into the space. This would be her home now.
Jo slipped her beat up Blundstones on her feet, her mom fit Wranglers complimenting nicely. Not that she was really needing to be a fashionista right now, she just found the little things nice. Smiling to herself she threw on her cream thermal over her tank top. Placing her mom’s old cowgirl hat on her head, she felt ready for her first day out.
First, she would donate some of Alex’s clothes, maybe trade. Second, she would find some work.
Sun shining, birds chirping in the trees, the world seemed okay now. Jo plopped down the porch’s stairs with some of Alex’s clothes in hand. She gave them one last big sniff as she neared a market. Sun beating down on her back she grew warm. Escaping the heat, she slipped inside the store. The shop was quaint, an old white haired lady behind the counter, just how Julia was. The thought made her smile a bit.
The woman peered at Jo, eyes squinting to focus on her face. “Well, aren’t you a pretty young thing?” She gushed, her voice rickety.
Jo’s cheeks turned a shy shade of pink at the compliment. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m here to donate these.” Jo plopped the pile of clothes onto the counter.
The older woman looked through them, folding them neatly and putting them on the shelves behind her. “Can I get you anything, darling?” She questioned.
“Just the directions to a bar of some sort.” Jo smiled.
Jo stopped in front of the sign, reading ‘The Tipsy Bison’. Chuckling, she stepped in. Room filled with men and women alike, it was nothing like back home. A strange circumstance. A man waited behind the bar, watching the shenanigans happen.
“What can I get you Ms. Bailey?” The man spoke, the stranger somehow knowing who she was.
Her eyes furrowed, not understanding that word spread in this town. “Uh.” She trailed, still confused. “Just whiskey.” She ordered, sitting on the torn-up bar stool.
The man filled the short glass cup, not missing the mark on how full to fill it. “I’m Seth by the way, I own this place.” His voice rung in her ears, nothing she genuinely cared about.
Jo nodded and took a sip of the strong ass drink. Lips pursing as she set the cup down. Gazing around the room, she didn’t notice anything or anyone remarkable, just average normal people. Jo grabbed the cup again, bringing it to her lips. A shoulder roughly knocked her forward, the drink spilling all over the front of her clothes and slightly on her freshly washed hair.
A sharp bang came from the glass as she waved her hands to get the wetness off. She stood slowly, turning on her heel. Her eyes raised from the persons boots to blue jeans to a mans face. His eyes sunken and tired, he had no remorse even remotely on his face.
“The fuck was that?” She questioned, hand on her favorite knife. Jo’s eyes stared right into his soul.
He chuckled softly, seeing her get defensive. He was tall, towering over her. He seemed confident he could just say the right thing and get out of it. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.” He smiled, offering a handshake.
Her eyes narrowed, a quick glance at his extended hand to his eyes once more. “This is my favorite shirt.” She grumbled, hand smacking his out of her face. “Next time it wont be a smack.” Jo’s voice dripping with poison, she had grown past irritated. She left the smelly building with a few stomps.
Grumbling more, she mumbled little ‘god damnits’ and ‘shits’ as she walked down the street. Her boots crumbled the now dry dirt, little dirt balls breaking under her feet. An almost silent shuffle came up behind her. A large hand tapping her shoulder.
They cleared their throat before they spoke. “Hey, I’m-uh sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” The same damn voice.
Her eyes whipped around to his face. “Yeah obviously.” She motioned down to her shirt.
He put his hand on his hip, relaxing as he tried to reason with her. He didn’t know why; he didn’t really care but for some reason he felt he needed to apologize to her. There was something about her he hadn’t seen in Jackson before, nor had he seen her to begin with. Scratching his salt and pepper beard, he spoke up once more. “Can I do anything?” He questioned.
Jo’s eyes rolled as far back into her head as she could get them. “Yeah, watch out next time.” She spat.














