The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 8 - Locked Out
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You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
rating: 18+, minors DNI
word count: 1.5k
tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding
Chapter 8 - Locked Out
Few things about post-outbreak life had come easy to Joel, but one thing he never struggled with was silence. He was a man of few words, he relished in solitude, and his years as a father made him excellent at moving quietly. While he’d developed that skill to avoid waking Sarah as an infant, it also proved useful for avoiding Infected. He never thought he’d get another chance to use his light tread for anything other than survival, but here he was. Carefully climbing the creaky wooden steps to his brother’s front door, stepping over the squeakiest one he’d been meaning to fix for ages now.
Knock! Knock!
Joel rapped softly on the warm oak door, just loud enough to announce his presence without risking a screaming baby.
Tommy answered a moment later.
“You look like shit,” Joel cracked an amused smile. Tommy had said something similar the first time he’d greeted Joel after Sarah was born.
“Gee, thanks,” Tommy rolled his eyes. He stepped backward, holding the door to usher Joel inside. He hung his filthy patrol jacket on a peg and turned to take it all in.
It was as if a tornado had swept through. Dirty dishes were scattered across every horizontal surface but the floor, and the burp cloth situation wasn’t much better. By the looks of it, Maria was currently making do with a bath mat.
A smile crept across his lips as the baby finally spit up and then descended into soft, easy snores. It was peaceful in the way only small children could be.
“Congratulations,” he said softly, patting his brother on the back far more gently than Tommy had when he’d been freshly uncled.
“Thanks, Joel,” Tommy smiled. There was exhaustion in his eyes, but also a familiar, joyful satisfaction Joel recognized. It was the look of a father.
“Fatherhood suits you, you know.”
“You think?” Tommy asked.
Joel nodded. “I know.”
Maria chimed in from across the room. “You wanna meet her?”
Joel beamed. “Can I?”
Maria nodded, and he crossed to where she stood beside the fireplace. She jutted her chin toward the couch, and he took a seat in his usual spot.
“She’s beautiful,” he whispered as Maria placed the sleeping babe in his outstretched arms.
It didn’t look right, all his wrinkles and scars and gray hair against such pure, unbridled innocence. He didn’t expect the tears that slipped down his cheeks as he beheld her.
Tommy came to stand behind him, watching with newfound respect for his brother as he met his niece for the first time.
“What’s her name?” Joel asked.
Tommy looked at Maria. She nodded, giving him silent permission to proceed.
“Margaret Sarah Miller. Maggie for short.”
Tommy wasn’t sure what he saw in Joel’s eyes as his head snapped to look at him. All he knew was there were tears and something undeniably raw in there. It moved him.
“Maggie, like our mom Maggie?” He asked.
Tommy nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “And Sarah, like your daughter.”
Joel rolled his eyes through the tears. “Well, yeah, I got that part.”
Maria barked a laugh, and Tommy couldn’t help but follow suit. Joel of all people giggled, and then before they knew it little Maggie was opening her eyes. Her skin was dark like her mother’s, but her eyes—those were Miller eyes. It wasn’t the color that confirmed it, but the tenacity within them. The spark. The wildness that would forever refuse to be tamed.
“She’s gonna be trouble, this one,” Joel mused. “No doubt about it.”
Tommy chuckled. “Well, she’s got Ellie as a big cousin. I’d expect nothing less.”
Joel smiled wistfully. “I’ll have to get her over here tomorrow or the next day. We’ll help clean up so the two of you can get some rest. Would’ve been by sooner, but patrol ran long.”
“Speaking of which,” Maria chimed in, retrieving the baby from Joel to bounce on her hip. “Where’s Doe? I figured she’d be with you.”
Joel’s smile fell then. He still couldn’t make heads or tails of the way you’d stormed off earlier. He sure as shit didn’t know how to explain it to Tommy and Maria.
So he gave them a total non-answer.
“I’m not sure,” he shrugged. “Probably went to bed. It was a long patrol, I’m sure she’s tired.”
Maria cocked an eyebrow at the lame excuse. “Too tired to meet her niece?
* * *
Bang! Bang! Bang!
You awoke to the sound of thuds on your front door.
What now? You thought to yourself as you sat upright, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
“Doe, open up. I know you’re in there,” a gruff male voice called out to you.
Joel. What the fuck does he want?
You rose from your nest of blankets on the futon and padded towards the door in your slippers, stepping over the piles of dirty laundry that littered your floor.
It got like this, sometimes. You tried to keep things under control, but life had a way of thwarting that endeavor at every available opportunity. You shoved the clutter out of view as best you could and opened the door a crack.
“What?” You eyed him through the opening.
He was dressed casually, a light brown t-shirt giving way to denim down below. He was sweaty, and his hair was mussed. And the look he was giving you, when paired with crossed arms, was downright murderous.
“Office doesn’t open ‘till eight.”
“It’s ten-thirty,” he said, his voice rife with exasperation.
Shit, you winced. I can’t believe I overslept by that much.
You sighed, then opened the door a bit more. Your outfit was messy, but nothing out of the ordinary for pajamas.
“How can I help you, Joel?”
“Wanna tell me why Tommy says you still haven’t been by to see Maria? You’ve been back three days, Doe. She had the baby damn near a week ago. What gives?”
You didn’t know what to say. You’d never been one for excuses, but they were particularly elusive now. You broke eye contact, instead opting to try your hand at staring a hole through the corrugated metal outside your door. It didn’t work.
Joel reached forward and grabbed the door handle, yanking it open to expose you to the fresh morning air and bright sunlight that hurt your unprepared eyes. You stepped forward quickly, shutting the door behind you before Joel could get a good look at the depression pit formerly known as your office.
“I’m not leaving until you give me an answer,” Joel drawled.
You leaned back against the door and looked up at him with a frown. “You weren’t this mean back at the fire tower.”
“That was different. You needed coddlin’.”
“Who’s to say I don’t need coddling now? You don’t know me. You don’t know my life.”
“That’s the problem.” Joel dropped his hands to his sides. “I don’t know. Because you won’t tell me.”
“You assume there’s something to tell. There’s not.”
“What, cause you got amnesia or somethin’? I saw how you signed your name in the logbook. Either you’ve got real shit taste in aliases or there’s something more going on here.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line. “That’s private.”
“Clearly,” he spat. “Just tell me, are you planning on ignoring her forever, or are you gonna get your ass over there and go meet your niece?”
“That’s not my niece.”
“Maria begs to differ.”
Your eyebrows shot upward, and Joel seized the opportunity to continue.
“You’re her best friend. Her right-hand woman around here. She thinks of you as a sister, Doe.”
Something seized in your gut. “I don’t have a sister. Not anymore.”
You reached for the door handle and pulled, but–
“Fuck.”
It wouldn’t budge. Your heart rate picked up. You resisted the urge to vomit.
You pushed past Joel and scanned the flat expanse between the base of the building and the large wooden gates that enclosed the community you’d dedicated yourself to protecting. It was busy this time of day, but there was one person in particular you were looking for. You spotted her by the stables.
“Casey! Hey!” You waved your arms over your head to catch her attention.
“Doe? What’s wrong?”
You jutted a thumb over your shoulder. “Got locked out again.”
She sighed. “That’s the third time this month, dude. You gotta get a doorstop or something.”
“I know. Sorry,” you called down as she stopped beneath the wraparound balcony that surrounded your small office perch.
She tossed the spare up, but before you could catch it, a hand reached out and snatched it from the air.
“Thanks!” Joel called down to Casey. “I’ll help her get inside.”
“I could’ve caught that, you know.” You scowled, striding back towards the door.
Joel walked right past it and set off down the stairs that led to ground level.
“The fuck—Joel, where are you going?”
“To Tommy and Maria’s. And if you want to get back into that office of yours, you’re coming with me.”
You took a shaky breath. This was so not what you needed right now. You peered through the door's small wire-infused utility window and gazed longingly at your office. Or was it your apartment? You guessed it was technically both, since you slept on the futon. You locked eyes with the crusty rat plushie perched tall atop your mountain of cozy blankets, and whispered a solemn vow.
“I’ll be back for you soon, Ratty. I promise.”
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