Preacher's Daughter (The Last of Us - Joel Miller): Thoroughfare
PREACHER’S DAUGHTER Thoroughfare
series masterlist
Pairing: Joel Miller x OC
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI
Series Warnings: unprotected sex, religious trauma, gore, violence, swearing, explicit content, sexual violence.
Word Count: 8.9k
Read on AO3 and Wattpad
Tommy was gone. Tess was gone. Bill and Frank were gone. Lianne was gone.
Lianne was gone.
Joel is alone. Alone with a fourteen year old girl, tasked with trekking her across the country for the “fucking Fireflies.” The one thing he had hated about his brother. The one thing he prayed Lianne wouldn’t fall in with. And it had sucked him right into it.
Joel and Ellie had spent the night nestled in the woods a few miles from Bill and Frank’s house. Joel sipped on the coffee that was promised by Lianne.
How long had it been since Lianne was at Bill and Frank’s before Joel found them? Did she know already? Had she stayed with them until the end? How close behind her were Joel and Ellie?
Ellie had stuck her nose into the percolator to take a strong whiff, turning pale in a recoil at the smell. She let out a wretched noise, contorting her face in disgust as she quickly closed the lid to the coffee percolator, pulling Joel’s attention back to her.
He twists to look over his shoulder, brows shooting up as he examines her scrunched face.
“You don’t like coffee?” Joel asks the young girl, voice gravely in a gentle surprise.
“Is this that shit they used to sell at Starbucks in the QZs?” She had asked him, face still scrunched in a pained grimace.
“It was a lot fresher than this, but yeah,” Joel had responded, voice barely above a gruff grunt.
“You ever go there?” Ellie continued quizzically. “Before?”
“Not really to Starbucks, but to smaller coffee shops,” Joel answered, voice becoming softer. “My wife liked the local-”
“Your wife?” Ellie perks up, face contorting into a whole new expression of surprise. “You? Married? Dude, why haven’t you said anything?”
Her words fall upon deaf ears, Joel turning from her with a grunt.
A memory of her floats across his vision. The golden rays of the morning sun seeped through the cafe window to cast a warm glow around her. Her cheeks were pulled into a smile, full and rosy, laughing at something Joel had said. His thumb had traced the swell of her soft cheeks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her warm and forgetless eyes shined bright, crinkled in the corners.
The thought of her made his stomach turn.
“Forget it,” he chides in Ellie’s direction. He’d let it slip, the mention of Lianne. He had wanted to bring her up earlier, when he and Tess first met Ellie and she had asked if the two of them were together, or when they first reached Bill and Frank’s. He especially wanted to talk about her when he didn’t know what the fuck to do, and knew that she would have the answer. Wanted to bring her up just to keep the memory of her fresh in his mouth. But he had kept his tongue bit, wanting to keep her separate from this journey, as much as his body and soul ached in longing for her to be beside him. She would know what to do. She would know where to go. As much as she would keep him on his toes, she would be there to keep him grounded and his mind level.
—-
Weeks had turned into months of radio silence. The group that Lianne had left with all that time ago no longer existed; people giving up the fight and dying off. And still no sound of Joel.
Lianne had made it to that safe house in Nebraska about a week ago. In the beginning, she cleared out the town of any infected, ensuring her safety and isolation. Evening passed and morning came - that was the first day.
She spent what was left of the few remaining candles the first night. After a night of cold darkness with no electricity, Lianne had found some more candles in an old store down the road. The main floor of the house glowed warm, dozens of candles lighting the windowsills, climbing the way up the staircase, and above the fireplace mantle.
“Let there be light,” she had whispered to herself, a bitter chuckle escaping in harsh breath. She watched the stars that night, just like she had all those years before. And like those years before, a single satellite traced its endless orbit across the sky. And again, it was a beacon of something that was never changing in an ever changing world. And she wished for Joel.
Evening passed and the morning came - that was the second day.
The walls had begun cramping around her. The boarded up windows seemed to pound at her skull. So she’d found an old hammer and began ripping the boards from the window panes, letting the white sunshine flood the first floor.
The breeze chilled her skin as the sun soaked her bones, and she let herself lay on the wooden floor to bask in the sun. She wanted to find window panes in the old store down the road to replace the no-longer-windows, but installing them wasn’t in her skill set.
That’s a job for Joel, she had thought to herself.
Joel.
And it hit her like a freight car, a tsunami wave crashing over her and pulling her to the bottom. Grief and guilt and pain and sorrow and frustration and guilt and grief and guilt. It ate at her, gnawed at her soul, clean through to her marrow. And she let it eat her, at first. He never left her mind, not for a moment, not for a second. She bargained with herself, any attempt to convince herself that she made the right decision. Joel was still at the QZ, safe and alive and helping Tess.
And then she began to pray. To pray for Joel to be there, to be anywhere. To be there in Nebraska with her, or at the QZ in Boston. Just to be alive, anywhere. She prayed for the will to go back to Boston and find Joel in their apartment, to beg him for forgiveness for letting herself leave without him. To beg him for forgiveness for leaving him.
Evening passed and morning came - that was the third day.
Curtains made from mis-matched and discarded sheets waved in the windowsills, the breeze becoming colder as the winter truly set in. A fire burned constantly under the mantle, and Lianne kept bundled in wool sweaters and a blue suede jacket. She had built a home in the safehouse in Nebraska, a home she often thought that Joel would like to share with her, if they had ever gotten the chance. She sits on the porch, cheeks red from the cold air. Her stomach is full and she is safe.
When she slept at night, she thought of him so hard she swore she could feel his arms wrapped around her, reaching for her through the wall.
And she thought of Sarah. A cavern formed in her chest daring to rip itself in pieces with the emptiness. Longing for those moments in time where the only feared bite was that of a mosquito.
Evening passed and morning came - that was a countless day.
It was the middle of the night when one of them broke in, snarling and rotten and climbing up her with rotten teeth. A hoard had followed, swiftly overtaking the house. The curtains were pulled from the windows with ragged fingernails.
She had tipped the bottles of kerosene over in the fight, drawing the hoard to the center of the house, before making a break to dash outside. She lit the end of a rag soaked in a liquor bottle and threw it to the house. The few that followed her outside were slain in a moment, but she knew more would come. She stood still for a moment, becoming a witness and watching the fire before her. Her feet pushed her tired body through the snow, sprinting westward through the night at an unstoppable pace, her lungs burning and threatening to burst.
Evening passed and morning came - that was the last day.
—
It was the smell he noticed first, nose crinkling at its harshness as he and Ellie walked through the woods. There’s this smell, like rainwater, burnt grass, burning plastic and, rotting wood, rotting… something. The smoke from a burning fire had been wafted through the air and into the woods where the two of them were.
“What’s that smell?” Ellie said, nose turned up in equal disruption. “Is something on fire?”
“Yeah,” Joel responds, a brief cloud of smoke catching his eye above the treeline. It doesn’t hit him at first, a sense of nervousness slowly washing its way over him. It breeches upon him like a warm wave, begging to drag him under. The forceful movement of his legs is the only thing keeping himself from sinking into the feeling.
They break from forest, the treeline receding from them in the background, as they further themselves into a clearing that has since been overgrown with brush. Joel comes to a halt, Ellie almost bumping into his backside with her lack of attention, before she stands right outside his peripheral.
A feeling Joel hasn’t felt in many years overwhelms him. It creeps through him at first, an icy cold freezing its way through the veins of his arms. Paralyzed and eyes wide, his heart thumps heavily in his chest. His eyes scan the doubly deserted town in front of him, the town in the middle-of-nowhere Nebraska that he, Tommy, and Lianne had built a safe house in. The safe house that lingered at the edge of the town, just far enough away and just close enough. The safe house that was now a smoldering ash, the roof of it collapsed in on itself, smoke from past flames lingered in a plume.
Joel begins to break through the brushed clearing, Ellie instinctually following him as he pushes his thick legs through the tangled vegetation. She only fell still when Joel’s pacing became incessant, his face locked in a scowl as his brows folded over his eyes, but the whites of his eyes still showed in panic. She stood there watching, helpless, as Joel’s racing mind materialized into endless, pacing circles around the crumbling house.
Charred, black bodies littered the foundation of the exposed house. Joel’s gut began to churn at his inability to tell if they had been infected or not. Or if she could be one of them.
Ellie’s incessant badgering of unrelenting questions barely registered to Joel, her words brushing over him as his ears rang.
“Was your wife supposed to be here?” Ellie called to Joel, and he finally stood still.
His haunched hackles pulled back as he squared his chest, lifting his head taller, as her words finally hit him. His glowered lifelessly into the distance, vision focusing on nothing as the edges of it fuzzed black, before he turned around to march back to Ellie. His shoulder brushed hers, and at his closeness Ellie could finally see the blacks of his eyes.
“We’re done here,” he growled as he pushed past her. And she’s right on his tail again, questions picking back up from where they left off, even though she knew she’d only be answered with silence. But still, she persists.
He continues to march them westward into the dipping sun, not stopping when Ellie begs for him to let them rest for the night. He’s silent, the crunch of dried leaves and feet on hard snow drowning out Ellie’s voice to his deaf ears.
It elicits something in Ellie, the smallest prick of fear not about Joel, but for Joel. When they’d lost Tess, Joel had remained silent until Ellie confronted him, urging him to work out his shit. But now was different; the air around him was hostile, walls never seen before barricading him from her. There was no key to unlock Joel, no way to break down that wall he unknowingly forced back up. The strongest of flames couldn’t lick away at his walls.
With Joel pushing them as far into the night as he can, Ellie fears he might not make it back from this one. It doesn’t get him until the next day, a fearsome grip clasping around his heart and squeezing with a vice so strong it has him gasping for breaths. He’s doubled over, hand resting on a tree as he grips at his jacket in an attempt to relieve his lungs. Ellie’s panicked words are drowned out by the sudden ringing of his ears.
I’m okay, he mumbles repeatedly, trying to convince himself as he levels his breathing.
“But are you okay?” Ellie asks, her voice finally breaking through to him. “Because just a reminder that if you’re dead, I’m fucked.”
Joel only grumbles a response, something that sounds like he’s okay, that it was just the cold air all of a sudden. Ellie watches him rise from the tree, her heart pounding just as quickly as Joel’s. It created a fear in her, one that sparked as a tiny flame in her chest, and she wouldn’t let it grow further than that, not wanting it to burn the whole forest down and take the two of them with it.
—
Joel held his brother in his arms. When Tommy was born, Joel was one of the first to hold him. The immediate sense of protecting and belonging overtook him then, holding his tiny brother in his arms. The world gave Tommy to Joel to protect and to save, and Joel will kill to succeed.
He held his brother in his arms now, again, decades later in the middle-of-nowhere Wyoming. A hug like the first, of love and disbelief, and of never knowing of the chance to do it again. Joel had found his brother, after months of on-foot travel across the country, he found his brother, and the hope that came with it glistened brightly in his eyes.
And now, Tommy was taking care of Joel. Filling his stomach with warm food, welcoming the young girl Joel traveled with with generous hospitality, and letting him relax in the protection of Jackson.
“How ‘bout a tour?” Tommy asks, finally, the question gnawing at him since his brother arrived. Tommy’s wife, Maria, had sat rigid next to him, eyes staring Joel down. The tension rose in him gradually as he watched his brother and Ellie scoop copious amounts of food into their mouths. “Somethin’ I think you’re gonna wanna see.”
Tommy and Maria led the way down the main street of Jackson, Joel and Ellie lingering a few paces behind them as they followed. Dozens of people lined the street, shop owners leaning against the entrances to their stores as they lazily waited for customers. Shouts of children down the street were cheery and free. Joel’s senses were in overdrive, vision becoming tunnel-like as he tried to focus on what Maria was saying.
“So are you, like, in charge?” Ellie speaks up as they pass what Maria told them was a church of multifaith.
“No one person’s in charge,” Maria begins to explain. “I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting. Everything you see in our town… the greenhouses, livestock, is all shared. Collective ownership.”
“So, uh,” Joel chirps up. “Communism.”
“Nah,” Tommy lets out with a scoff. “Nah, it ain’t like that.”
“It is that,” Maria interjects matter-of-factly. “Literally. This is a commune. We’re communists.”
Tommy hesitantly looks back at Joel, casting a dejected gaze towards the ground. Joel’s eyes glint with amusement, casting a smirk towards his grimacing brother.
“Tommy!” A voice calls from somewhere behind them. “Wait up a second!”
Joel swears he’s made it up, the voice calling for Tommy only in his head. It’s a voice Joel would know anywhere. Even in death he would have the melodic voice memorized, praying it would be the last sound he heard. It sounded foreign at first, like a long lost memory that lingered on the tip of his tongue leaving a heavenly aftertaste. Only, he heard this voice in his dreams, kept it with him daily in fear of ever forgetting.
Tommy was the first to turn to face the calling of his name, and Joel the second, eyes scanning the town square to see where the possible voice came from.
A woman stands on the other side of the square, hand raised in the air in a wave. Her cheeks are rosy and full, pulled up into a smile, and her eyes twinkle in the sunshine. When she knows Tommy sees her, she turns to quickly finish a conversation with a man next to her before making her way towards them.
When her gaze shifts from Tommy to his brother, she freezes in her tracks, the small smile fading quickly as her face goes pale.
Joel’s heart thuds loudly in his ear and his tunnel vision returns, locking on her. He blinks, convinced she’s a mirage, a hallucination, an angel appearing before him. But she stays planted, and Joel feels faint. A blush creeps along the tips of his cheek, turning him crimson and his neck begins to burn.
He remembers her, all those years ago, an unknowingly frightened thing in the road, eyes glistening as her hands shook with her emptied pistol. How she had been a complete shell of any part of her that used to be.
She stands there, now, put together, and from a distance is seemingly untouched. Her cream, knitted turtleneck stands out compared to the navy canvas jacket that blends in with the darkened buildings of Jackson. Her dark hair curls around her shoulders as if she’s taken the time to put a curling iron to it, scarce strands of silver wisp their way through it.
Her breath had hitched in her throat, before becoming almost ragged as she took small, stuttered gasps.
Their hearts stutter in their chests like two doves in two cages, screaming to be let out. The rhythm pushes against their chests, pulling at their ribs to finally move their feet forward. Joel doesn’t move until she takes her first steps, and his knees buckle under him as he finally steps towards her. His feet land heavily on the ground below, but he feels as if he’s walking on air.
Two waves crash against each other, tectonic plates shifting in the core of the earth, as the two of them finally collide. Limbs wrapping around them, hands latching into place to hold each other close.
“The house-” Joel starts, pulling back to let his eyes desperately search hers as he holds her face in his hands.
“I know,” Lianne gasps. “The radio- You stopped-”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Joel whispers, only to her, hands desperately brushing the hair out of her face to make sure she’s still real. “I left a message…”
“It doesn’t matter,” she smiles the smallest, most gentle smile, and oh, how his world spins. A smile not seen in years, a smile that shines bright, a smile that pulls at her cheeks and pulls the corners of her eyes into crinkles. A smile that has Joel’s eyes shining with the beginning of unfalling tears.
He knew he had no right to touch her, crave her like air, but he did both. And when he put his mouth on hers, he recognized the taste of her, like she’d been made just for him. And he kissed her. He kissed her with all the power he could muster, making up for the months, weeks, days, minutes, seconds their lips hadn’t been touching. And finally, finally, it felt like her world was no longer burning around her. The forest fire within her subdued in his arms.
“Why didn’t you tell me about her as soon as we got here?” Joel asks Tommy, brows furrowing in mock-frustration, but the curl at the corners of his lips says otherwise.
“Figured we should get some food in ya first,” Tommy says with a slight smile. “Didn’t want the old man collapsin’ on us.”
“We can give you two some time to catch up,” Maria says, her smile friendly but her gaze still hesitant towards Joel. “Make that man get a shower. I’ll take Ellie to our place where she can freshen up, get some warm clothes.”
Joel’s focus remains solely on Lianne, he doesn’t hear Ellie’s quiet and confused protest when she calls out his name.
“You’ll be fine,” he says softly, finally turning his gaze to the young girl. She still stands there, frozen, with Maria gesturing for her to follow. “Go on, you’ll be fine.”
“Wait,” Lianne murmurs, barely above a whisper as her eyes finally connect on Ellie’s hunched figure. Lianne’s eyes gleam in interest as they gauge from the young girl and then back to Joel. She nods to Ellie as she asks, “Who’s this?”
Joel turns, almost too quickly, to look at Ellie. Her face is pale with nervousness, cheeks rosy from the chilled air. She’s looking at Joel with pleading eyes, silently begging him for some kind of reprieve as her thumb picks at her ratted glove.
“Ellie,” Joel says softly, the whisper of a smile in his voice. “Lianne… This is Ellie. Ellie…” Joel’s voice falls short, head turning as he looks back to Lianne to make sure she’s still there. “This is Lianne… my wife.”
“Oh…” Ellie murmurs, brows raising in realization. “Well, shit. You didn’t say she was-”
“Ellie-” Joel grunts at her in disapproval, but the sweetening sound of the laugh from the woman next to him has his gaze pulling to her again. Lianne gently brushes past him, a faint but warm smile radiant on her lips, and gently sticks her hand out as she reaches the young girl.
“Hi, Ellie,” Lianne says gently. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Ellie’s voice is barely above a murmur as she greets Lianne in response, eyes casting down towards where their hands meet.
“How’d you get on Joel’s good side?” Lianne asks the young girl, a teasing lilt to her voice.
Ellie only smiles awkwardly, eyes shifting past Lianne towards Joel.
“I’ll explain,” Joel says. “Later.”
Maria approaches Ellie again, continuing to lead her away from Joel and Lianne. Joel only gives Ellie a nod, reassuring her that she’s safe with Maria. Lianne quietly leads Joel back to her house, a house that she can’t help thinking of the possibility of becoming a home with Joel.
“So,” Lianne finally says, a gleam in her eyes as she turns in Joel’s direction. “Who’s Ellie?”
Joel rubs at his hands, thinking of a response to give her. So, he tells her that Ellie’s cargo, some Firefly big-wig’s daughter he’s taking out west. He lies to her, and she knows it. It will have to do, for now.
“Surprised Tess ain’t with y’all,” Lianne responds simply. She teases him by adding, “Before I left, told her to keep you in check while I was gone.”
Joel slows his steps before finally coming to a stop. Lianne continues a few paces before turning back to check on Joel. Her smile fades when she clocks his expression. His brows are furrowed again, eyes not willing to meet hers as he casts them away to his feet. When he finally meets her gaze, his dark eyes are soft and somber, pools of regret swimming through a current to beg for forgiveness. A grip takes its place around his throat, tightening until it choked him.
When his eyes meet hers, she knows Tess is gone. And all she can do is nod.
“How?” She asks.
“Got bit,” Joel finally pulls the words from himself. “Saved me and the kid, though.”
“Good,” Lianne responds again with a nod. “That she saved you.”
Joel nods, too.
“Bill and Frank, too,” Joel says. “Got your message ‘bout you stayin’ there, thought I’d stop by too with the kid after… Tess. See if you’d maybe be there. Bill left a letter.”
Lianne stands quietly for a moment, grinding her teeth and chewing the inside of her lip.
“I’m sorry,” Joel offers, quietly.
“Me too,” is all she says as she nods again, before turning to lead him further down the street to her house. “Frank was in pretty bad shape when I was there.”
It’s a two-story house, like the one in Austin. Unlike the house in Nebraska, the porch doesn’t wrap all the way around the four sides of the structure. Instead, the dark fencing of the wooden porch is shortened to cover half of the front of the house, stopping where it connects with gray paneling. Another porch matches this one on the back of the house, facing a well-sized backyard and renovated garage. A white picket fence outlines the perimeter of the property, and Lianne had chuckled when she first moved in at the idea of that cherry-pie kind of life.
Lianne leads Joel in through the front door and the smallest hint of clean laundry mixed with old coffee wafts through the air to soak into Joel. It could make him breathless, the trigger of a memory of their home in Austin flashing briefly before him, only to be replaced by the dim surroundings of this unfamiliar structure.
“Do you, uh, wanna shower or anything?” Lianne finally speaks, scratching mindlessly at a spot on her cheek. “Not sayin’ you need one or anything.”
“‘S a good idea,” he replies quietly. “I’d appreciate that.”
Lianne only nods and leads him up the staircase to the second floor. She pushes a door open on the right, and a sunlit room with a simple spread is on the other side. A bed with linen sheets and a blue patterned quilt, a pile of worn clothes tossed over a chair in the corner.
Her bed is made, only one side sloped in and the edges ruffled, while the other side lay perfectly neat and barren. A side saved for him.
“I feel like all this ain’t really mine,” she says, almost as if she’s explaining her tidiness. “Gotta keep it lookin’ nice for Maria.”
Joel chuckles softly, a whisper of a laugh, watching her sweep a hand over the quilt to soothe out a wrinkle, before she’s back in front of him.
“So,” she starts again. “Who really is Ellie?”
“She’s immune,” the words are out of his mouth before he can even think to hold them in. His eyes widen in panic, while Lianne’s stay calm and curious.
“To what?” She asks, just a breath away from a confused chuckle.
But Joel stays silent, and her brow furrows.
“She’s immune,” she repeats his words slowly back to him.
“It was Marlene,” Joel starts, mouth moving faster than his braind. “She hired us to smuggle her to some Fireflies. I’ve seen the bite on her arm. I’ve seen her get bitten. And that was months ago. She’s immune.”
Lianne only stares at him, his words rolling through her head like a pearl. He can see the gears turning behind her eyes, the scale of judgment of belief or disbelief. His heart pounds in his chest, that fear coming over him again in an icy grip.
“Okay,” Lianne replies. Her voice is soft, eyes warm again as she looks up at Joel. “So what’s next?”
“I don’t know,” Joel breathes, the words falling from him on a gasp.
“Okay,” she says again.
She reaches instinctively to help Joel from his canvas jacket, fingers gently pulling the fabric from him as if the slightest move would spook him like a wounded animal. His gaze follows her movements, soft eyes never blinking her away as he continues to track her. She finally slips the sleeves off his wrists, and the broad expanse of his shoulders takes her breath away. When she finally looks up to meet his eyes, they reflect that same longing and lonesome she’s found herself in since September. The softness of his dark eyes remind her of October, of a chill that can only be subdued by the warmth of him.
She puts her hands on either side of his face, and the room falls away. Joel had always gotten lost in the kisses shared between them, but never quite like this, like a fever taking its grip. And then, the space between them explodes. His heart keeps missing beats and his hands cannot bring her close enough to him. He tastes her and realizes he’s been starving and it burns him alive.
Maybe it lasts a minute, maybe it’s an hour. Joel only knows this kiss, how soft her skin is when it brushes against his, and that even if he did not know it until now, he had been and would continue waiting for her forever.
“I should shower first,” Joel whispers as he forces himself away from her lips. His forehead remains pressed heavily against hers, just as his fingers dig into her hips.
“I don’t care,” she whispers back, latching herself onto him once more before he can pull further away.
His hands are back on her, cupping her face to hold her closer, breathing her in, trying to clear away the fear that she’s not real. She maneuvers them closer to the bed, Joel shoving off her blue suede jacket as her hands push and pull and search across his flannel. Her hands only leave him to pull her turtleneck off and throw it to the floor, revealing a haphazardly buttoned white blouse.
Closer to the bed, she’s pushing him gently to sit, and he obliges. In quick timing, but not quick enough for Joel, she straddles him. His hands immediately land on her waist, strong and heavy, and he pulls her closer on his lap. His hands lose themselves in her hair, entwining themselves with it to pull her into his mouth.
She kisses him ravenously, the want of each other in the way of flesh wanting to knit itself together over a wound.
She wondered if he had hated her, when she first left Boston. If he hated her for leaving him there alone, no family but Tess, without the only thing to keep fighting for. If he hated her for her short and shitty messages she left him, or the shitty excuse she gave when she left. She wondered if he hated her, and prayed that she’d never know the answer.
She pulls the white button-up tauntingly slowly from her shoulders, the warm sun illuminating her exposed chest as he watches her. A stab of hunger came over him, and he found nourishment in the very sight of her. The blouse drops to the floor behind her, and her chest expands with a pull of wanton air.
His fingers reach up, ghosting along the skin of her chest to leave goosebumps in their wake. He has to drag his eyes to meet hers, and when she sees them they’re black and hungry. His hands wrap around her waist, eyes never leaving hers, as he grips her close to him and flips her over onto her back. She’s pinned between him and the mattress like a flower pressed in a book.
His lips are on her chest, hungry, wet kisses covering the skin there. He loved her like a rotten dog, drooling and painting and messy. Loved her like his canines were falling out of his gums; like a monster, like a beast.
She’s wrestled him out of his clothes, the tip of his throbbing cock nudging against the inside of her thigh. He had rocked himself into her hundreds of times, thousands even. Each time different from the last, and just as good as the first. It presses into her wetness, and he holds back from sinking his teeth into her. He could let go right now, just having her underneath him again. She keens for him, hips begging to be split.
Their bones whisper to each other: Where have you been?
I’ve been lost but I’m here now. You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.
His body is on fire, a fever taking over him as he finds himself nestled within her. The tip of him kisses the deepest part of her, over and over, and she’s panting beneath him. Her hands latch themselves in his hair, grounding herself to him as he loses himself in her.
The air is hot and sticky, suffocating in the small space between them. The airway is narrow, any breath reaching their lungs a soothing relief.
She says his name, over and over, like it’s the only word written on the pages. Three more heavy thrusts and she’s undone, unbinding herself as she comes around him. Her hand claws into his shoulder, pushing him away and holding him close. Sharp gasps are pushed from her chest, and he breathes them into himself as he rests his cheek against her own. Her back arches, breasts pushing further into his chest. Her pussy squeezes his cock, and the haze in her eyes has him coming inside her.
He nestles his cheek against her chest, hips coming to a slow still as he stays inside her. A lazy hand runs through his hair, the sweat-damp strands cooling to her rough fingers. They let each other rest, soaking each other in, leaving mindless kisses on each other’s skin.
He finally pushes himself off of her, taking the weight off her chest. He rolls to his side away from her and runs a hand down his face. A soft chuckle comes from her behind him, and he looks over his shoulder to see her flushed state. A smirk grows across his face, and she runs her hand down the length of his back. When her hand leaves him, she pulls her arm back to herself, a solemn look overtaking her features.
Joel’s smirk drops, a slight frown creasing his brows.
“What?” He calls to her softly.
“I just want to forget,” she says quietly, arms crossing over her stomach.
“What do you want to forget?” he asks, voice soft as he still looks at her over his shoulder, fingers reaching out to trace the edge of her face.
Everything. She wants to forget ever leaving Joel, every moment that had passed without him near her. She only wanted to know Joel, to breathe Joel, to feel Joel.
He watches her eyes, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her swollen lips, eyes never leaving her face.
“How can you even forgive me?” She whispers, and he pulls away from her only to look in her eyes, nose bumping gently against hers, and her chin tips up achingly for the return of his lips. He drags his lips to her forehead, planting a kiss on her damp skin.
“Because I thought about you,” Joel responds. “Every day and every night. You know there’s nothing you could do that I wouldn’t forgive you for.”
His lips return to her skin, nipping gently at the skin of her jaw. She was his darling, never to be unloved by him, too well tangled with his soul.
And they make love again - Lianne used to say as she would tease Joel in fake mockery at his use of the term - until the room became golden and the sun hung lower in the sky, hot tears slipping from the edges of her eyes down to her ears to make their home on the pillow. Until she was able to forget.
—
Tommy had been the one to interrupt their brief bubble of paradise, his fists knocking on the front door and luring the two of them down the staircase. That’s how Joel found himself sitting in a bar, the Tipsy Bison, running his hands over the wooden counter, his girl sat at his side while his brother poured him a drink, for the first time in since who knows when.
“Been a long time,” Joel murmurs, mostly to himself, as he continues to admire the handiwork of the bar top.
“So, what’s up with the kid?” Tommy asks, unable to hold in his curiosity.
Joel takes a sip from the glass in front of him, the bite of it burning down his throat with a wince.
“Tryna find her family somewhere out here,” another lie. “I was headin’ in this direction anyway, so…”
“Really?” Tommy asks, brows raising in surprise. “Goodness of your heart?”
Joel stares aimlessly into his glass, and Lianne shifts in her seat next to him before swallowing her drink.
“There’s a payment,” Joel says gruffly. “So, you know where they might be? These Fireflies?”
Tommy shakes his head slightly at his older brother, the smallest hint of disbelief laced across his face.
“Well,” Tommy starts with a sigh. “Heard they got a base down at the University of Eastern Colorado. It’s a week’s ride south. But it is severely fucked up between here and there. Infected… Raiders… It’s not exactly an easy trip.”
“It’ll be easy for us,” Joel says immediately, looking between Lianne and his brother who remains behind the bar. “Seeing as how you can headshot infected from half a mile away. Which is a bunch of bullshit, by the way.”
Tommy finally takes a slow, long sip of his drink, gulping it down harshly with gritted teeth. He slowly shakes his head.
“Yeah, I can’t go,” he says slowly, eyes peering up through his lashes at his brother, afraid of his reaction.
“Oh, come on,” Joel persists. “I made it across the country. The three of us can make it from here to Colorado.”
Tommy only sighs, looking briefly at Lianne with eyes pleading for help.
“Hey,” Joel says harshly, getting Tommy’s attention back on her. “What, cause your wife won’t let you?”
“Joel,” Lianne’s voice calls to him from his side, a warning in her voice to cool it down.
“She the one that kept you off the radio? Is that why you stopped messaging me back?” Joel presses.
“They’re good people,” Tommy finally interjects. “Didn’t have to take me in, but they did. All they ask is that we follow their rules. They’re very protective of this place, is all. And for good fuckin’ reason.”
“No, I heard,” Joel bites. “Wrong people might show up… Is that what I am? Am I the wrong people?”
“Joel,” Lianne warns again, this time with a sigh.
“Those things I did,” Joel can’t help the river of relentless words that spill from him. “Tommy, those things that you judge me for, I did those things to keep us alive.”
“We did those things,” Tommy agrees. “But they weren’t ‘things.’ We murdered people. And I don’t judge you for it. We survived the only way we knew how, but there were other ways. We just weren’t any good at ‘em.”
Joel rubs a hand down his face, rubbing the gruff hair that lines his jaw. When he opens his mouth to respond, Tommy interjects.
“I’m gonna be a father,” Tommy says, letting it out as if he had been holding his breath.
And Joel freezes. He lets his head drop, letting it shake back and forth as he lets out a scoff. Tommy’s face turns red, and his jaw clicks as he squints his eyes at Joel.
“You know what?” Tommy says harshly. “Just because life stopped for you… Doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”
Lianne snaps her attention towards Tommy, mirroring him in a squint of disbelief. Joel only remains silent. His eyes go cold as he swallows the rest of his drink, the glass landing heavily back onto the countertop as he pushes himself up from his stool.
“We’ll grab some supplies and be outta your hair in the mornin’,” he grunts before pushing his way to the door of the bar.
Lianne stays planted, gaze remaining piercing on Tommy. His head is hung lowly in instant regret, eyes peering up to meet Lianne’s gaze. Neither of them say anything, and Lianne has to steady herself from flaring smoke from her ears. She pushes herself from her spot at the bar, making her way to follow Joel.
“Lianne,” Tommy calls after her.
“Don’t,” she stops him, boots heavy on the wooden floorboards as she continues her way outside.
Joel isn’t far from the entrance of the bar when she finds him. He’s bent over, hand gripping the wooden post of a street light right outside the bar. Lianne’s pace quickens as she approaches him, her heart dropping to her stomach when she sees the pale state of him. He’s breathing heavily, fast and gasping breaths fogging in the Jackson sunlight.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Lianne murmurs, immediately resting her hand on his back. “Joel, what’s going on?”
Joel’s hand that’s gripping his chest latches on to her, finding the nearest part of her to bring her closer and hold himself steady. His eyes were glazed, but the tears from the stinging cold kept them sparkling in the sun. He can’t hear her ask if he’s okay, the panic slicing through her voice, his ears ringing again as they did in the woods. Her hand replaces where his was pressed on his chest as she begins to rub soothing circles, trying to get him to stand upright to better get breath in his lungs. She watches his eyes, noticing their locked on something further away, so she follows his gaze. When his breathing finally steadies, Lianne catches a glimpse of a head of dark curly hair amongst a group of people further down the way, and her breath hitches for a moment. The woman in the town center bends down, handing something to a little girl with the same hair. Lianne’s heart breaks when she turns back to Joel.
“I thought the same thing when I first got here,” she says softly, watching Joel take full breaths. “But she really doesn’t look anything like her.”
“She could’ve, though,” Joel finally says, and it breaks Lianne further.
“I’m sorry, Joel,” she whispers.
“I’m okay,” he says, trying to reassure himself. “It’s okay.”
—
Later in the night, the two of them found themselves in a tiny storefront, renovated into a shoe repair shop that was almost always empty. Joel had wanted to fix his torn boots himself, the soul of them peeling from the bottom to reveal his toes. Lianne had insisted she could trade something for a better pair for him, but he refused and refused, insisting he could fix them himself. Joel hadn’t seen Ellie all day, accidentally allowing her to get scooped up by Maria and roped in to a community movie night at the town’s center.
A swift breeze of the cold night air swept through the store as the door opened, a bell jingling as Tommy appeared through the threshold. He smiled awkwardly as he approached the couple, his shoulders tense as he kept them close to his ears and his hands in his pockets. Lianne turned to return his smile before resuming her watchful position on Joel.
“The guys said I might find you here,” Tommy says as he continues his way over to them, steps slow with caution as he approaches his brother.
Joel looks up to look at his brother, but quickly resumes the work on his boots.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” Tommy continues with a sigh. “I don’t even believe it. It’s complicated for you… And I’m sorry.”
Joel stays silent, this time giving a look to Lianne who quirks an eyebrow at him in return.
“So you gonna let me off the hook, or what?” Tommy presses.
“This ride to the university,” Joel speaks up suddenly. “Is it a suicide mission?”
Tommy doesn’t answer right away. He looks to Lianne, his composure slightly taken aback in the shift of conversational direction.
“No…” Tommy starts slowly. “It’s dangerous, but it’s nothin’ you can’t handle. Just prepare and do what you do.”
“You’ve had people go that way and come back?” Joel asks again.
Tommy nods. “All of ‘em,” he responds, crossing his hands over his chest. “What is this?”
And Joel tells him, from the beginning. That the leader of the Fireflies hired him and Tess to smuggle her out. After Tess, it was just the two of them. And in Kansas City, Ellie had to save Joel. His face fell suddenly, paling at the memory, eyes growing glassy with tears. He froze then, words coming to a halt, just as he did that afternoon. Just as he did in Kansas City.
“I was so afraid,” he mutters. “I’m not who I was. I’m weak.”
It takes everything in Lianne to not break at the sight, to hold his sweet face in her hands and kiss away the worries. Her heart thrums loudly in her chest, drowning out the sounds of Joel’s words as he continues.
“You want me to take her,” Tommy says, face soft in understanding.
“I’m just gonna get her killed,” Joel says, voice breaking as he forces the words from his mouth. “I know it. I have to leave her.”
Tommy and Lianne share a knowing look, the conversation having gone in a direction they are too familiar with.
“This is your chance to bring your kid into a better world,” Joel continues, eyes pleading and voice begging. “You’re younger than me, still strong. You said it yourself, you’ll come back. You have to take her.”
Tommy sighs, looking around the room before his eyes fall to the floor.
“Tommy, you’re the only one I trust. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you, I swear.”
Tommy looks back to his brother, then to his brother’s wife. She looks equally as broken as Joel, her gaze never leaving him, with her lips turned in a hard frown.
“I’ll take her out at dawn,” Tommy replies.
Back in the house, voices are raised behind the walls, anger laced and spitting with venom. And all Lianne can do is pace her bedroom. She chews on the nail of her thumb, heart pounding as she waits for Joel to return to the room. The voices grow louder, until they’re finally silent.
A door slams, and heavy footsteps grow louder as they step down the hallway.
The door to Lianne’s room swings open, Joel’s gaze falling on her as her pacing comes to a stop. He slowly closes the door, latching it softly behind him.
He slowly brushes past her, squeezing her hand in passing, before planting himself on the edge of the bed. His head hangs, his hands rubbing circles into his eyes as he rests them on his knees.
“Joel,” she says quietly, kneeling in front of him. Her hands rest on his knees before coming up to rub along the length of his arms.
“I have you,” Joel says suddenly, his eyes pleading to her, his voice trying to convince himself. “That’s all I need.”
“I don’t think that’s as true anymore, Joel,” she says softly, a knowing gleam in her eyes, and his gaze falls to his lap. “You need that little girl, Joel. Just as much as she needs you. You gotta see this through with her.”
“I just got you back,” Joel replies, voice cracking under the weight of his words. “I can’t leave you again. Ain’t lettin’ you outta my sight.”
Her crumpled face mirrors his own, eyes glossy and brows furrowed, as she takes his face in her hands. The rough pad of her thumb ghosts over the dry skin of his cheek, and he can’t help but close his eyes at the feeling.
“Then I’ll come with you,” Lianne says, her words definitive. “If you’re sure that’s what you’d need, I’ll go with you.”
He takes her hands from his face, running over the lines of her palm that etch across her skin before softly planting his lips onto her calloused palms.
Lianne laid on her stomach, head fuzzy with sleep. Joel’s hand was splayed on her back, resting lightly above her hip. But he was ridgid next to her. The quiet of Jackson made his head buzz, the ceiling above him swirled in his vision.
She rolled her head towards him, a soft hum radiating from her as she pulled herself closer to his warm body.
“Sleep,” she mumbled, pulling him into her. “It’s safe here.”
She knew what he was feeling, a bit all too well. Like the walls would fall away and they would be back in the middle of the woods, exposed to the elements and the Infected, one twig snap away from a nearing death.
“You can sleep,” she says. “Sleep in my arms.”
He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. But there was something different about him after all their time apart. A man changed, a man who now had less anger in his heart. An anger that had festered for so long, entwining itself with him, that had now been replaced by something all together different. She wanted to cling to his shirt, bury her face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go. She kissed his neck and shoulders, feeling faint from loving him so much.
Lianne woke up while it was still dark. Joel had only stirred briefly as she left the bed, quickly falling back asleep once he heard the running water of the shower, the smell of her lingering on her pillow lulling him to sleep.
It was the toss of her towel on her empty spot in the bed that jerked him awake, eyes snapping wide as he remained frozen. His side of the bed dipped behind his back as her fingers ran softly down his arm. He turned with a groan, reaching out to land his hand on her waist.
“Get a groove on, Miller,” she said softly, hand now brushing the hair from his face.
“‘Time is it?” He groaned again. “‘S still dark.”
“Almost dawn,” Lianne replies in the quiet of the dark. “So get up, get dressed. We’re goin’ to the stables.”
That was half an hour ago. The golden sunrise had begun to creep over the snow-capped mountains. Joel’s breath lingered in the morning air as he contemplated Lianne’s decision.
“I just ain’t sure about this,” he says, hands still adjusting the straps of the saddle.
“At least give her the choice,” Lianne tries to persuade.
Only another moment of silent shuffling passes before the crunches of footfall approach the stable. Tommy and Ellie round the corner, and the young girl stops in her tracks when she sees Joel, a look of disdain weaved over her.
“You came here to say goodbye, or something?” Ellie tosses sharp words in Joel’s direction.
“No,” Joel says as he grinds the toe of his boot into the dirt. “We came here to steal these horses and go.”
“I would’ve given you one,” Tommy chirps with a soft shrug.
“I know,” Joel says, still keeping his eyes to the ground. “Anyway, that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess…”
His voice trails off when he finally raises his eyes to Ellie. Her glare is sharp and her jaw is set.
“You deserve a choice,” he finally says. “I still think you’d be better off with Tommy-”
His words are cut off as Ellie shoves her sleeping bag into his arms.
“Let’s go,” she says bluntly.
Joel nods slowly, a soft and assured okay leaving his lips. He helps Ellie up onto his horse, letting her take the reins as he leads them out of the stable. Lianne follows behind on a horse of her own as they head to Jackson’s main gate.
Tommy gives the three of them directions to the interstate, a small yet knowing smile on his face as he says goodbye to his brother.
Lianne travels quietly alongside Joel and Ellie, taking in the rambling conversations of the young girl and Joel’s short but giving answers to her. Ellie’s convinced him to teach her how to shoot the rifle Tommy gave them, and to Lianne’s unsurprised surprise, Joel has given in to the young girl.
The three of them find themselves in a small, grassy opening off the side of the road. Joel’s set up a target a few dozen yards away with some old socks stuffed with grass, the word ASSHOLE written on it for encouragement. Ellie complains and complains, saying the target’s too small, or the rifle doesn’t aim right. Joel rolls his eyes, arching his brow in discontempt at Lianne who gives him an amused smile. Joel takes the rifle from Ellie, willing to prove it’s just a skill issue. He talks her through the process, words slow and heavy as he readies himself.
“You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?” Ellie asks with a smug smirk, and Lianne can’t help but chuckle quietly from the otherside of Joel. Again, Joel raises his glance to Lianne, a look of disappointment that can’t be wiped from him as Lianne nudges him knowingly with her elbow.
Joel readies himself behind the rifle again, and not a second later has a hole blasted through ASSHOLE. Ellie drops the binoculars she was holding in disbelief, the smug smirk once on her face completely gone and transferred to Joel.
“You dick,” she hisses slowly.
The three continue on horseback, the sun lowering in the sky. Ellie had braved enough to ask Lianne about herself, who she was before the outbreak, how she met Joel (which Joel changed topics immediately), which Ellie followed up with asking Lianne what her role was in the Boston QZ.
Lianne found herself happy to answer Ellie’s questions, giving as much of herself to her as she could. The feeling of making up for lost time had taken hold of her thoughts, feeling she needed to be on the same level of Joel in connection to the young girl.
A warm yellow silhouetted the three, riding over rolling hills and dipping into shallow valleys. Lianne rode ahead of them, stopping atop a high mound of land to take in the sunset. Joel stopped next to her, crinkled eyes softening as he watched her. She sat content on her horse, warm sun dripping off her like honey. She turned to him, cheeks pulling into an equally warm smile as her cheeks rosened. Joel couldn’t help but mirror her smile, and when Ellie peeked out to Lianne from behind Joel, the young girl joined them in a toothy smile.
Ellie could be the hope for all humanity, hope for the future of the world. But the three of them right here, in this sunset, was all the hope Lianne found she needed.
