The Lie
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (slightly older than Joel)
Other Major Characters: Tommy Miller, Maria, Ellie Williams
Chapter Summary: A lie puts fissures in the life you've made with Joel
Word Count: 5,600(ish)
Rating: 18+ Series
Warnings: Angst, drama, show events, fowl language
Author’s Note: The show doesn't allow for all butterflies and rainbows. But we're gonna get through this.
Also note, in this universe Joel never goes to see Gail for therapy sessions. Why would he when he has you? ;) (Seriously, reader is a better therapist than Gail is in her state of mind and Joel should have never gone to see her after what happened with Eugene.)
xxx
Chapter 2: The Lie
"Looks like it's going to be another beautiful day," you observe as you peer through the window in Joel's kitchen, your kitchen. "Think I'll take breakfast outside."
You snatch up your plate of toast and eggs, your glass of orange juice, and your guitar that's resting against the lower kitchen cabinets before making your way towards the door that leads onto the front porch.
"I'll meet you out there in a bit," Joel says from his seat at the table. He's scanning a bunch of blueprint papers in front of him, reading glasses on. "Just have to make sure the measurements for tomorrow's project are correct."
"You work too hard, honey," you tell him, taking a detour to lean down and peck his cheek.
His face softens as it does whenever you show him affection and he reciprocates with a chaste one to your lips. "Five minutes," he promises. "More or less..."
You chuckle. "If it's more, I hope not much more. It's supposed to be our day off. I want to enjoy it, preferably with you."
Life in Jackson isn't fast pace, not like in the cities your family had taken vacations to during your childhood, but there is always work to be done, patrols to go on. It is rare for you and Joel to have a day completely to yourselves so you'd prefer to take advantage of it.
And Ellie is working all morning in the cattle barn, which means for a good six hours you also have the house to yourselves.
"It won't be," he assures you.
You nod and continue on your way outside.
It's May again, just shy of the one year anniversary of your first kiss with Joel. Summer has come early this year to Jackson; the crisp morning is warmer than you expect when you step outside, your sweatshirt almost uncomfortable to wear in direct sunlight.
You plop yourself down on the top step of the stairs and place your plate and glass to your left so you can lay your guitar carefully down on your right.
The guitar, a beautiful Gibson Hummingbird Original, had been a gift from Joel for Christmas. He'd nabbed it from the same store he'd gotten his guitar back in November and had restored it for you like he had his and Ellie's.
You were impressed by his handiwork; the guitar looked like new. Joel never boasts, but he is an incredible craftsman and artist. When he isn't working or spending time with you and his family, he is upstairs carving wood into figurines of all kinds of animals. It has become his favorite pastime since joining Jackson; having started with the carving of Benji's toy wooden blocks, then later expanding to figurines of dogs and horses and eventually other creatures.
It was in the same vein as Ellie's drawings and your latest hobby of writing music lyrics. A calming distraction that came naturally to you once you fed it.
Playing guitar is different, at least for you. You'd struggled to learn how to strum the strings with your hands and a pick; to remember without looking where to put your fingers and how to move them over the fretboard. There were many times when you'd wanted to give up and give away the guitar to someone else in town, but Joel wouldn't have it. He knew how badly you wanted to figure it out. How you dreamed of a night when you could play a song solo at The Tipsy Bison.
He was a much more patient teacher than you were a student, and it paid off. His insistence, his gentle guidance, had gotten to you to a point where you could play a few songs on your own. You haven't perfected it yet, but you are getting there. The music you make smoother by the day.
You tear a big strip of toast off a slice with your teeth and pick up your guitar again so you can practice, ducking your head so you can rest the strap over your shoulder.
As you carefully pluck at the guitar with your bare hands you settle into the rhythm of one of your favorite songs, a slowed version of "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis Presley, and as you get lost in the music you automatically start singing along to it, closing your eyes as the melody takes hold of you.
Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you Shall I stay? Would it be a sin If I can't help falling in love with you?
When the song is complete you stop and open your eyes again, feeling more peaceful than you've felt in ages. It's the kind of peace only music can bring you. Music that you've created; vibed with. And you owe Joel for being able to get to this point.
Aware of your surroundings once more, you can feel a presence behind you, warm, comforting. It's as if you have a sixth sense, one geared towards knowing when the people you love most are near.
Joel approaches and sits beside you, groaning lowly at the effort it takes to bend his knees on the way down. "That sounded amazing, honey. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd been playing for years, not half of one."
You smile at him brightly. "I have you to thank for that."
"You would've gotten it on your own eventually," he says confidently. "You're just too impatient with yourself. You give everyone around you an hour when you won't give yourself a minute."
He is right. You've always been harsh on yourself, even as a kid. It had started with your parents expecting As in every class and bloomed out from there, expanding into all aspects of your life in a way that you couldn't blame solely on your parents' expectations of you. They'd started it, but you had fed it with your insecurities. If you weren't perfect, then how could other people ever like you?
It wasn't until after the apocalypse that you'd stopped caring, and it wasn't until Jackson that it started to slip through the cracks again.
But when it did, Joel was there to remind you that perfection wasn't why he'd fallen in love with you and it wasn't what you needed to be for him to stay.
Joel being Joel, he'd never actually said those exact words, but his face had always given away more than words ever could.
"Play somethin' else," he encourages you. "Anything. Don't get to hear you sing near enough."
You snort a little at that. You're almost always singing something under your breath while at work or doing chores at home, and unless something major got in the way, he was always at the Bison when you sang there too. Yet he still wants to hear more. It's flattering.
"On one condition," you propose.
Joel frowns slightly and the deep furrow that develops between his eyebrows almost makes you laugh. His confused expression is too adorable for a man of his statue and presence, you think. It's part of why you love him, more than any man before him. Not that your dating history was lengthy. Even before the apocalypse it had been kinda sparse.
"Sing with me."
His lower jaw clenches and you immediately recognize the refusal that is coming.
"I'm not taking no for an answer," you tell him firmly, leaving little room to argue.
He still tries anyway. "My voice ain't as pretty as yours," he claims.
"Who's being too harsh on themselves now?" you counter. "It's not like I haven't heard you sing before, Joel. I've heard it plenty while passing the house; returning to it. Caught you many times when you thought no one else was around. And I enjoyed it every time. There's no need to be shy about it."
He huffs as if you've just said something ridiculous. "I'm not shy-"
"Prove it."
For a moment Joel looks like he's chewing on a lemon as he considers his options, but he leaves briefly, without a word, and knowing him, it's clear to you that you've won.
He returns with his guitar in hand and plants himself down in the outdoor rocking chair, prepares to play it, then nods at you. "What'll it be?”
"Can you play Bridge Over Troubled Water?" you inquire.
"I can."
He starts picking at the strings of his guitar and you lean up against the railing to your right, so you are seated at the top of the stairs with one leg on the porch and another hanging down over the first couple steps.
You take a sip of your orange juice and begin to sing along.
When you're weary Feeling small When tears are in your eyes I will dry them all I'm on your side
You look to Joel to see him watching you, a fond smile on his face, the kind that always makes you smile back. You nod at him as you do so, encouraging him to join you as you reach the main lyrics.
He does, his voice low but rich. You can hear the self-doubt in his voice, the lack of training, but it's wonderful anyway. Whenever you hear him play, whenever you hear him sing, you fall in love with him all over again. Having music in common with him means a lot to you even if it isn't the reason why you fell for him.
You're beaming by the time you finish the song together, and his smile has grown too.
"Not bad for a couple of old timers," you declare and he laughs, any remaining tension leaving him.
You wish then that you could make him laugh every day. It sounds so warm.
"Not bad," he agrees.
You reach for the remains of your breakfast, now cold, and finish it in good spirits.
x
Since moving in with Joel and Ellie you've rarely woken to a bed half empty, let alone cold.
It always trips the alarm bells in your head when it happens, and this morning is no different.
You wake up for an undetermined reason, the house still dark, as you do more and more often seemingly with each passing year, and pat Joel's side of the bed when you register that you cannot feel his presence and can't yet focus your eyes enough to see anything.
It is strange for him to be up before dawn unless he is on night patrol; it is strange for his side of the bed to be cold - a clear sign that he departed it long ago.
You are concerned that he may not have slept well or that something went wrong in town until you remember it is Ellie's seventeenth birthday today, which means Joel is out making last minute preparations before spending most of the day on patrol, including going to see Seth to make arrangements for the cake. You can't figure out how he managed to convince Seth to do it on short notice, but he had, with the condition of providing him with some supplies that were difficult to obtain, maybe even more so than the ones needed for the cake.
You aren't sure why Joel has turned to him out of everyone else in town, especially after he flubbed Ellie's name on the cake last year, but Seth is the one person in town with the supplies needed to bake one; supplies that are getting increasingly rare out and about. You figure the convenience of having the supplier also bake it was a factor in the decision as well.
You get up and dress quietly, not wanting to wake Ellie this early on her big day.
You creep as silently down the stairs as you possibly can and boil some water for a morning tea. You aren't a huge fan of tea, but it's better than nothing with coffee so sparse, and it gives you something to sip on while you wait for Joel to return.
You sit down at the kitchen table with your mug of tea (teacups also a rare find) until the night fades away into day and you can see through the windows better, though not much better. It's foggy this morning, and cloudy. You are wondering if it'll rain later in the day or if the coverage will part when you hear the front door creak open.
You quickly abandon your tea to meet Joel at the door.
"You're running late," you tell him, glancing at your leather wrist watch. You'd have twenty minutes to get down to the barn and saddle the horses before your patrol team set out. You think you might have to ride bareback like you used to, before finding Jackson. It would spare you a few minutes. Joel however, has never ridden bareback. You doubt he'll want to learn today.
"Seth got to talkin'," Joel explains.
It's short but it's enough. You know Seth enough to know that he can run his mouth for ages on certain subjects; most that weren't very thrilling or were even unpleasant. You wince.
"At least he started on the cake as I walked out," Joel says with a sigh. "Should be finished by the time we get back. I let him know that we'll be in earlier than usual."
Tommy had been in charge of making the patrol schedule that week and it hadn't been difficult to convince him to let you and Joel head in early so you could surprise Ellie for her birthday.
You nod and make a grab for the jean jacket on a clothing hook by the door, the one you like to wear when out on patrol during the day in the late spring and summer. "Good. You ready to head out or do you want to say goodbye to Ellie first?"
"She still asleep?" he inquires.
"Yeah, I think so." You haven't seen her leave her room yet.
Joel shakes his head. "I'll wait until I show her the cake."
You nod again and slip on your boots. "Let's get to it then. The sooner we're on patrol, the sooner we get back."
Joel frowns, but doesn't argue with your logic.
x
After patrol you and Joel part on different missions. Your mission to round up food for tomorrow, and his to collect the cake Seth has hopefully completed without complications.
You are putting away steak, steak fries, and a bottle of ketchup, all made within the walls of Jackson, when the front door opens and for the second time that day you head over to the mudroom to greet Joel.
As expected, he has a cake platter in his hands, a white plastic one that doesn't allow for you to see its contents without lifting the lid first.
"How'd it turn out?" you ask, almost at a whisper.
Joel sets the platter down on the table that's by the door and nods at it. "See for yourself."
You move over to the table and lift the lid. There's a round chocolate cake inside with chocolate frosting, even better than last year's flavor, in your opinion, and the writing on it is well done. Neat, and without spelling errors.
Joel is smiling proudly, as if he was the one who made the cake, when you glance over at him.
"It's perfect," you whisper, and he nods in agreement.
"I had my doubts after last time, but Seth pulled through on this one."
"I'm glad." You gesture towards the kitchen. "I'll put it on the bar and start supper. Why don't you go get Ellie? I didn't check on her today, but I've heard her shuffling around upstairs. She's probably been hanging out in her room the whole time."
Joel gives you a passing kiss on the cheek as thanks and heads upstairs to see her while you do as you said you would.
You've just managed to set the cake down on the bar when the shouting begins. Most of the words are muffled by the distance of the kitchen from Ellie's bedroom, but you can make out a few words like "early" "birthday" and "seventeen". You freeze in place, trying to figure out why Joel and Ellie both sound so upset, utterly confused until Cat comes rushing down the stairs and leaves without acknowledging your presence.
You realize then that there are only a handful of reasons why Joel would be upset about what Ellie and Cat had been doing; enough to run Cat off. Your first thoughts being that they were probably doing drugs or making out or more.
You aren't expecting it to be all of the above.
"Never would've thought she'd behave like this," Joel tells you as he finishes giving you the details of what he'd walked into minutes before.
It's not as bad as you'd feared, for Ellie's sake, but it is bad enough Joel still looks like he might murder Cat.
"Well, at least she won't get pregnant," you say, trying to cut the tension in the air.
"It's not funny," he grumbles as he sits down on one of the bar stools.
You sigh and lean on your elbows across from him. "Joel, they're teenagers. You still remember what it was like, don't you?"
"I do, that's why I-"
"Humiliated Ellie?" you finish for him.
Joel deflates a little. "Didn't mean to."
"I know." you say gently, reaching out to put one of your hands over his. "You were just trying to protect her. I get that. But she's not a little girl anymore, Joel. Yelling at her and forbidding her from doing what she wants isn't going to get anywhere with her. If anything, it'll just push her away. Better to talk to her, get her side of things, make sure she knows what she needs to, and back off. Let her make her own mistakes if need be. But for the record, having a girlfriend who is only two years older than her, taking a little bit of weed, and getting a tattoo on her forearm is not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. Just be thankful she didn't tat her face."
Joel sighs deeply and nods. "Yeah."
He looks defeated, and you can't help but feel a little sorry for him. You can only imagine how difficult it is for him not to bubble wrap Ellie like you're certain he would like to. After everything he's been through, you can't blame him for wanting to. But you remember when your father had caught you sneaking back into the house after going to a party you weren't given permission to go to, and how you'd held a grudge against him for weeks for reacting the same way Joel had to Ellie today. You didn't want Ellie to feel that way towards Joel.
"So are you gonna go talk to her?" you question.
"In the morning," he says and you give him a stern look that tells him he shouldn't avoid it. "I promise," he adds. 'Trust me. It's best we both have time to cool off."
You want to further protest, but realize he's right on this. It would be good for him to have time to figure out what to say to Ellie and allow her to process a little. Maybe then she won't be so quick to get defensive and tune him out when he actually goes to see her.
"Fine," you decide. "Let the dust settle. But first thing in the morning, you need to talk."
Joel nods to confirm he will and you sigh. "I'm going to make us chicken sandwiches for supper. I'll bring one up to Ellie."
"Thanks," he says gratefully as he scrubs at his troubled face with one hand.
You know it's not just for the sandwiches.
"Of course."
x
Joel ended up having the conversation with Ellie in the middle of the night, after she got it into her head that she was leaving the house and nosily struggled to move the mattress out to the garage, startling you awake and urging him to check if she was okay.
In the end, they came to a compromise that they both could live with. Ellie would be able to go live in the garage, after Joel fixed it up with heat and electricity. After he helped move her stuff in. And she would finally have the independence she was desperate for.
You thought that would be the end to their fighting.
You had no idea that it was just the beginning.
x
On Ellie's nineteenth birthday Joel gives into her persistent pleading to go on patrol, with the condition that he's right alongside her. That he's the one to teach her the ropes.
It's a condition you fully support. You became attached to Ellie long ago and you want her to learn from the best if she's going to put herself at risk for the town. With Joel teaching her, she can only excel at the job, you figure. You'd spent years on your own and still had learned a few tricks from him while on the outside with him. He was an expert at being watchful, wary, and quiet. He knew when to flee and when to fight, and he was pretty good at explaining his tricks.
They leave early that morning after shoveling down the breakfast you had prepped for them.
You'd followed them to the stable to watch as they saddled up their horses and left, then busied yourself with work, helping Jeanine muck out the stalls and feed the horses that weren't already out on patrol.
You rounded out the morning brushing some of the horses who didn't get ridden often, and headed back home for the day to wait for their return.
You weren't too concerned, you trusted that Joel could take care of himself and protect Ellie, as he had before they'd come to Jackson, but there was always a small chance that someone outside the walls may not come back home. No one person was immune to the dangers those on patrol faced. It only took one mistake, one surprising turn of events for someone to get killed. That was the reality of being on the outside.
This fact made it difficult to completely relax. You didn't particularly enjoy the days Joel was on patrol and you weren't. But you'd bowed out so Joel and Ellie could have this time alone. They didn't get to do something like this together very often anymore with how busy Joel was and how independent Ellie was getting to be, and you'd wanted them to really interact for once. Maybe get past the growing tension you've come to notice between them over the last year; one that puzzled you. It didn't feel like you could blame it entirely on Ellie being a typical teenager or Joel being overprotective. There seemed to be something deeper causing fissures in their relationship.
You'd hoped Joel allowing Ellie to go on patrol would be an important step towards solving that issue.
You couldn't have imagined that it would make it worse.
x
You are sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch when they arrive back at the house, Ellie a minute or so ahead of Joel.
You immediately know something is wrong. She doesn't even look in your direction, just heads straight for the garage. If she'd been happy about the day's events she would have gone up to you and excitedly told you all about it. That was typical Ellie. This is not.
Joel only solidifies your conclusion when he trudges up the path towards you, head low, eyes not meeting yours. He looks like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders; looks like he's aged by years instead of hours since you last saw him this morning.
"What's going on?" you inquire, standing as he nears you.
He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "She's mad at me."
"Why?" you ask, eyebrows knitting together.
He shrugs as if it's not a big deal. "Teenager stuff."
But you know it's not just that. Joel looks nervous, fidgety. One of his hands is twitching and he is still avoiding your gaze. He's never made a habit of lying to you, but it is clear he is right now.
You find yourself irritated by it. You've always hated being lied to.
"Joel, tell me the truth," you order.
He shakes his head, vehemently refusing to before he finally dares to meet your eyes. You are taken aback by the moisture in them. It takes a lot for Joel to be driven to tears. You can count the number of times you've seen him cry on one hand, and not all your fingers would be ticked off.
"I don't want to lose you too," he chokes out.
Your heart wants to shatter at the plea in his voice, but you need to know what happened. Otherwise your mind will fill in the blank with something worse than what probably occurred. It would also give you the chance help mend their relationship sooner than they would without you there to give them another perspective.
You try to remain firm, but your face still softens when you speak next. "You're not going to lose me, Joel. Whatever happened, whatever you may have done, I can handle it. I promise."
He takes in a shaky breath after you speak, leans against the porch railing with one hand behind him, and hesitantly nods at you before he gives in and tells you everything that happened during their patrol training session.
He tells you that everything had been going as planned until they got a radio call from some other people out on patrol nearby. Since he and Ellie were the nearest to them, they had to answer it.
One horse bolted by them dragging his dead rider behind him, then they stumbled upon Eugene wandering alone in the forest.
You catch your breath at this piece of information. You know Eugene in passing. He is Gail's husband. Gail is the town therapist. You don't know either of them well, but Tommy seems to like her, and from what you saw of them Gail and Eugene seemed like a loving couple.
So when Joel mentions his name dread fills you. "No, not Eugene."
Joel's facial expression turns grim and immediately you know that you've made the right assumption.
"He'd been bit," he says. "I had to...put him down."
"Shit, of course," you agree, "But Ellie knows that too. So why would she be angry at you for doing it?"
"Cause he wanted to see Gail first," Joel explains, eyes turning away from you. "And I didn't let him."
You are still puzzled over why Ellie is so upset at him for doing it. She knows very well that Jackson has strict rules about how they handle the infected. Waltzing them back into Jackson when they have maybe only minutes before turning is a risk they cannot afford. There are too many children behind the walls now, almost twice there was even when you'd moved in.
"There's more, isn't there?"
Joel confirms it with a nod, taps the rail with his index finger. "He was bit along his side, over his ribs. He and Ellie were certain he had enough time to ride back with us to the gates, for the people on the wall to go get Gail so they could see each other one last time. They begged me to give him that mercy."
"And you didn't think he had the time?" you questioned, folding your arms across your chest. You didn't want to judge the situation until you had all the information.
Joel shook his head. "No, I was pretty certain he would. But there was that small chance he might've been different, or that he was lying and had a second bite somewhere that would take him quicker, or that the meeting might go south in some other way..."
"And you couldn't take that risk," you figure.
"No."
You are beginning to understand why Ellie would be upset by the situation. Ellie is a survivor, she's usually practical, but she is still young, and she doesn't see the world as you know Joel does. She wants to help whoever she can, no matter the risks, while he only does the same if the risk is minimal to the people he cares for. As far as he is concerned, a bite, no matter the placement, means immediate dispatch, no delay.
It wasn't the first time he'd had to shoot someone from town for getting bit. Last autumn Roxanne, the town's oldest teacher, had fallen off her horse while out on patrol after he'd been spooked by a bear. You, Joel, and Tommy had found her in the forest hours later, after the sun had set. A runner had found her, as she was hobbling around on a sprained ankle through the trees. They'd bit her on the face, torn into it actually, and brutally so. You can still picture the horrific details in your mind. The pain in her voice, in her eyes. Her face mangled, a piece of her jawbone exposed to the world. She'd struggled to tell you what had happened; pleaded for death. Her hands were already shaking; her breaths desperate, though the latter was likely from shock.
Joel had taken on the burden of ending her suffering himself. He'd been efficient about it, he hadn't hesitated, but he'd looked weighed down by it after. It was subtle, but there, in his eyes, the way he held himself over the next few hours. He didn't take any pleasure in taking innocent lives; even ones that were ticking time bombs.
You are sure Ellie knows that too, but you also know she believes in fighting for every second. She doesn't lie down and give up on anything she considers valuable if there's still time left on the clock. And Eugene would have probably had hours left, considering that the location of his bite was fairly far off from his face.
"There's still more," Joel admits, drawing you out of your thoughts, and you wonder briefly if you'd spoken them aloud.
You frown at him. "What do you mean?"
"They were on me so much about bringing him to the gates that I lied to them," he replies. "I told them I was gonna do it. That I was going to let him join us on the trip back. But as soon as I could get him away from Ellie -"
"You shot him," you finished, working your jaw.
You fully understand why Ellie is pissed now. It isn't just because of Joel's paranoia, of his unwillingness to stretch the rules to be humane, but because he hadn't been honest with her. He'd put Eugene down behind her back because he knew the act was against her wishes. He'd taken her out of the equation so she couldn't stop him from protecting her and the town from a threat she was sure wasn't immediate enough to warrant it.
You wouldn't have taken kindly to being told that lie either, though that scenario wouldn't have played out between you two anyway. You wouldn't have wanted to take him back to Jackson either. You'd have found some other way to help Eugene find peace in his final moments.
"Gail's not too happy with me either," Joel admits, unable to stop himself from spilling everything now that he's gotten going. "I tried telling her something to put her mind at ease about his death, but Ellie was having none of it. She told Gail the full truth. Blurted it right out. Probably to get back at me."
"Or maybe she didn't want another lie out there," you say tensely.
"I was just trying to spare Gail," he tells you defensively.
"Were you?" you ask, taking a step towards him. "Or were you trying to spare yourself?"
He cringes at the harshness in your words. "I guess I deserve that."
You sigh heavily at his reaction and join him on the rail. "I get why you didn't bring Eugene back, but you shouldn't have lied to her or Gail about it. Even if they disagreed with you, lying is not a fix. It's never saved anyone from backlash. Eventually it'll catch up to you in one way or another and it'll be worse than if you'd told the truth in the first place."
"Are you upset with me too?" Joel inquires.
You shake your head. "No, I'm worried, Joel. If you lie to Ellie like that, do you lie to me?"
"Never," he says with no hesitation.
Your lips pull into a brief smile. "Good." You take a moment to glance out at the neighborhood before you turn to him again. "But I need you to remember something."
He tips his head at you to silently encourage you to continue.
"Everything has a price," you tell him. "If you keep trying to protect Ellie from truths, if you keep trying to protect yourself, you'll only sever your relationship more. So before you tell anymore lies, make sure they're worth the consequences."
Joel gives you a stiff nod, and you decide leave him alone on the porch to stew over your words, having nothing else to add.
You think it sinks in, but in the morning, when Ellie doesn't join you both for breakfast, you fear that it's too late.
Next: Chapter 3 - Could I Have This Dance
Previous Chapter: Can't Help Falling In Love
xxx
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