Chapter Text
Ellie does not trust people easily.
Which – thank you captain fucking obvious – makes sense, and honestly, it’d be fucking creepy if she did trust people in the snap of a finger. Ellie can imagine it in her mind: a weird kind-of-old man (it’s not David. Not fucking David) offers her a home, somewhere safe, he gives her food. All he asks for is for her to see him as family.
He doesn’t say it though. He fucking implies it.
No, it’s not fucking David. It’s Tommy.
Stupid fucking Tommy with his stupid slicked back hair and Texas accent (she only likes Joel’s accent. He’s funny) and his weirdass cowboy get-up. (Her hatred isn’t rooted in nearly being dumped with him just a few months ago, and certainly isn’t because Joel looks at him in a way she wants him to look at her.)
So, when they’re all at the mess hall on Sunday night, shoveling away at their dinners – her, Joel, Maria, and fucking Tommy – she can’t help but feel the need to actually fucking explode when Joel says: “I’ve got a three day patrol comin’ up tomorrow at noon. I was, uh, thinkin’ that you could stay with Tommy and Maria while I’m gone. Sound alright, Ellie?”
If anybody notices the way her knuckles go white from how tightly she’s gripping her fork, nobody says anything. Ellie looks at Joel, at her side. He’s chewing his steak, blind to her plight. Her gaze shifts towards Maria and Tommy, observing the two. She likes Maria – the woman is kind and assertive, she always knows the right thing to say.
Fucking Tommy, on the other hand, she doesn’t like him. Sure, she’s barely tried to talk with him, like, at all. But how the fuck is she supposed to know jack shit about him? She can’t just look Joel dead in the eye and ask ‘does your brother eat people? Oh, also, does he like to fucking beat the shit out of children?’
The two of them know exactly what she means by that.
Logically, the answer to both has to be no, and Ellie thinks it’s stupid, not being able to discern that for herself. But the cloud of nightmares in the back of her mind are always awake and whispering. Maybe Joel doesn’t know. Maybe Tommy’s never done anything before, but he’s thinking about it now. Maybe she’s fucking insane. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
“I’m not a fucking baby, I can be home alone for a few days, y’know,’ is what she manages to force out of her throat, sawing at her own steak with her steak knife very intently. She hadn’t actually touched it all meal, she had mostly been picking at the potatoes and veggies.
“Ellie…” Joel sighs, and by his expression, he anticipated her answer. “It’s only for two nights, I’m just worried that you’ll be climbing up ‘n down the walls if you’re left all alone.”
(Fucking Joel, fucking knowing her worst fears.)
“Climbing is fun,” she shrugs. “Sounds like an absolute blast. Maybe I’ll throw a party with booze, and uh… drugs, and shit.”
“Ellie.” It’s Maria this time. Ellie actually fucking listens to her, and they all know it. “We just want to get to know you better, alright? Give it at least a day, you can go back home if you hate us that much.” She says the last part with a light chuckle.
“Whatever Joel doesn’t let you do at home, you can bet we’ll do while he’s gone, eh?” Tommy wiggles his weird fucking eyebrows.
She ignores him, and turns all of her attention towards Maria. “Promise?”
“I promise,” Maria affirms.
“Alright,” Joel clears his throat. He sets his fork down by his cleared plate, folding his arms on the table. “We don’t have to worry about packing too much, since you live so close, but we can put together a bag with essentials tonight before dropping you off in the morning, yeah?”
Ellie still feels skeptical, yet significantly better knowing that she has an out if she needs it.
She finishes what she can of her dinner, and then nods her goodbyes to Maria (and fucking Tommy) before heading out with Joel.
Spring evenings in Jackson are fucking gorgeous, albeit cold as fuck. She doesn’t really have much to compare it to, it wasn’t like there was much nature in the QZ to look at. From some FEDRA soldiers, she knows that the general consensus is that Boston sucks, so she’s definitely glad to experience Spring here, where there are trees and birds and people not trying to fucking kill themselves every other minute. (She doesn’t like the snow, though.)
“Is everything alright?” Joel breaks the silence between them, his hands in his pockets as he walks. Ellie mimics his pose, shrugging in response.
“Yeah. Why?” she mumbles out. Their house (their house!) is just up ahead, the well-worn paint on the siding chipping here-and-there, but you can’t be fucking picky in the apocalypse. Besides, she likes it.
“I can tell you don’t like Tommy, kiddo,” he sighs, hanging his head low. Ellie feels guilty, she knows how much he loves his brother, but she can’t shut off her fucking mind long enough to actually talk with the other Miller. “Did he do somethin’ you didn’t like?
The amount of fucking worry in his voice – Ellie doesn’t know whether to bask in the fact someone fucking loves her, or feel bad, because her fucking trust issues are making Joel doubt his fucking brother. Way-to-go, Ellie.
“His first mistake is having a stupider accent than you,” she tries to joke. She gets a light snort out of Joel – but they both know there’s more. Only one of them knows what that actually is. Joel walks silently, he doesn’t push (he never does, unless he has to), but she can tell not knowing hurts him. She doesn’t want to hurt him. “I just… it’s hard to trust new people, y’know? We’re here, and suddenly we’re getting everything, and nobody’s asking anything from us in return.”
“That’s fair, baby girl,” Joel affirms. He steps up onto the porch, opening up the front door for her. She slides in, kicks her converse against the wall, and dashes towards the couch. Joel takes off his boots more carefully, but soon joins her. He rests an arm over her shoulders, and lets her curl into his side.
“I guess I’m scared,” Ellie admits quietly. “He… I don’t know why, but he’s doing all the same things David tried to promise. Fuck, man. I don’t know if he’ll try to do the same things at some point, too.”
Joel tenses. She knows why – David was a name neither of them dared say outside of nightmare-induced delirium. And she compared his fucking brother to him.
“I can’t just convince you, Ellie,” Joel starts. “You need to build trust on your own, I can’t make you trust him. But I promise you baby girl, he would never. He loves you, just like he loved Sarah. Like family. Family doesn’t hurt family.”
She digs deeper into his side. “Okay. I’ll give him a chance.”
“Thank you, baby girl,” Joel whispers to her, wrapping his other arm around her, holding her close. “Let’s get your bag ready, I’ll even let you steal some of my shirts. How does that sound?”
“Like I wasn’t going to take some anyways,” Ellie rolls her eyes, pushing away from Joel and dashing towards the staircase. Joel’s a bit slower – cracking his old man joints before following her.
It doesn’t take much time, shoving things into her backpack. Her toothbrush and toothpaste, a hair brush, a bundle of hair ties, and a few changes of clothes. Joel tucks her favorite one of his flannels into her bag once she’s gotten everything else sorted out, and leaves it by the doorway to her bedroom.
He crosses the floor, to where Ellie is beginning to wiggle herself beneath her covers. Joel snickers, watching her struggling to get comfortable.
“You fucking suck,” she scoffs, tossing a small pillow at his face. It lands, and he grunts out of surprise. He catches it as it falls, haphazardly throwing it right back at her. “Tuck me in?”
“So demanding,” he pretends to be annoyed, but she’s well aware that not an ounce of him could ever truly feel that way. Although, being disappointed was a whole different story that usually had to do with her doing really, really, dumb things. Ellie just pouts at him. “Fine, fine.”
Joel lifts the blankets, and she wiggles lower on the bed, facing him with a dorky smile on her face. He sets them down, making sure she’s covered and cozy in their warmth. He even picks up one of the plushies that had been left behind in the room – a stuffed giraffe – and tucks it between her neck and her chin.
“Good night, baby girl,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her forehead. Ellie leans into it, fully relishes in it.
“Again,” she mumbles as he sits up.
He pauses, but doesn’t hesitate before giving her another bedtime kiss and uttering, “Good night, baby girl.”
She hums, happily. “G’night, Joel.”
(No matter how badly she wants to say ‘dad’, she won’t. Not yet.)
Joel flicks off the light switch, slipping out of Ellie’s room. She falls asleep, thinking of sheep and the stars, being held, and being loved.
Ellie begrudgingly awakes at the horrid hour of seven in the morning, to the telltale noise of Joel getting his stuff ready for his patrol. Her heart drops to her stomach, splashing into the ever-present pool of anxiety that practically resides there constantly.
She doesn’t want him to leave. There’s an empty space left behind whenever she’s left without him, and she hasn’t gone more than three days without him since meeting him. Ellie is scared.
What if something happens, and she doesn’t find out until it’s too late? What if something happens here, and he doesn’t know?
As if he could smell her overthinking, there’s a knock at her door, and Joel peeks his head in. They make eye contact, and he enters.
“You want to get ready? Tommy made breakfast, I’ve got a few hours before I’ve gotta leave,” Joel says. “I bet it’d be easier for you if I’m around at first, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she chokes. “Um, Joel?”
He easily picks out the trepidation in her voice, she knows. He sits down at the foot of her bed. “What is it, baby girl?”
“Is there any way to talk to you while you’re gone?” she mumbles, pushing off her blankets and tucking her knees against her chest. “What if something happens, and I don’t know? Or you don’t know?”
“I’ll talk to Maria about it, but I’m sure she can take you to the radio tower after dinner every night, and you can tell me all about your day, and I’ll tell you all about mine,” Joel ruffles her hair. “Alright. Go get dressed, meet me downstairs. Tommy’ll eat everything if we leave him alone with it too long.”
Ellie snorts, but doesn’t push. She hops out of bed as Joel leaves, and she throws on a NASA hoodie – Joel had found it for her on his first patrol – and a pair of jeans (the button of which is lovingly sewed back on, by Joel.)
Once her hair is back in her ponytail – albeit messily – Ellie’s barrelling down the stairs and sliding across the wooden floorboards in her socks, Joel stopping her by pulling her into a (protective) hug.
“Christ, Ellie,” Joel lets go. “You’re gonna crash into a wall if you do that and I’m not here.”
“Then maybe you should stay,” Ellie shoots in return. He shoots her a look, and her shoulders slump. “Okay, okay, fine. But bring me back something cool, or maybe I’ll leave you for Maria.”
“Brat,” Joel chuckles under his breath.
“Old man,” Ellie snickers. He swings an arm over her shoulder, leading her towards the door. She slides on her beat-up converse, and he carefully laces up his hunting boots. They head out the door, into the crisp morning air.
Maria and (freaking) Tommy live just across the street from them, so it isn’t really that much of a walk. The two knock on the front door, which is answered by Maria, who waves them inside kindly.
Joel pulls Maria aside – probably to talk to her about the radio thing – and pushes Ellie to go into the kitchen and fill up her plate. Tommy’s sitting at the table, sipping from a glass of milk. He smiles at her as she walks in.
Ellie ignores him, grabbing a plate and beginning to pile eggs onto it. She throws in a piece of buttered toast, but skips out on the bacon. She doesn’t have the stomach for it today.
Before she sits, she looks towards the entryway, hoping to see Joel on his way, but it seems like he hasn’t finished his chat with Maria just yet. Begrudgingly, Ellie sits down at the table, the furthest seat from Tommy available.
“Good morning,” he nods her way. She takes a bite of her eggs, and nods back. “So, uh… did’ya sleep well, kiddo?”
“Don’t,” she spits, clutching her fork tightly. “I am not your kid. Don’t call me shit like that.”
Tommy falls into a silence, and god fucking damn it, now that she’s paying attention, he looks just like Joel when guilt settles over him. “I slept fine. You?” she adds, her voice in a mumble.
“Eh, ‘bout the same,” he nods, and doesn’t continue to prod at her. Joel and Maria finally fucking come back, the two quick in loading up their plates and taking their seats. Joel sits right next to her, and she instantly feels, like, a bajillion times safer.
“Thank you for breakfast, love,” Maria smiles warmly, the sunlight making her piercings shine. Ellie wants to be cool and badass like Maria. Tommy smiles right back at his wife, and they all begin (and for Ellie, continue) to eat.
The adults are busy making conversation about patrol routes and Jackson’s stocks, to which Ellie is perfectly okay with tuning out. She instead focuses on the window that faces a small bundle of forest, walled into Jackson. Intently, she watches a rabbit bristle about throughout the bushes.
It sucks, knowing he’ll be hunted and dead soon. She’s pulled away from her thoughts as Joel nudges her with his leg.
“Maria’ll take you out to the radio tower tonight,” he lets her know. We can talk later tonight, nothing will separate us, he means. “I should head over to the stables real soon. You think you’ll survive, Ellie.”
Ellie abruptly dives against his side, wrapping her arms around his torso. “No. I’ll die, immediately,” she mumbles.
“I sure hope not. I promised to bring you back something cool so you don’t leave me for Maria, right?” Joel snorts, but he doesn’t push her away. His hands are cupping the base of her skull, holding her gently.
Maria chokes back a laugh, but neither she nor her husband interrupt.
“Okay, fine. Don’t break a hip,” she sniffs as she pulls away from the embrace, rubbing at her eyes. “Fuck, it’s dusty in here.”
“I reckon it is, baby girl,” Joel ruffles the top of her head, successfully fucking up her half-assed ponytail. He makes it up by offering her a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll miss you, too.”
“One more time,” Ellie leans closer to his touch. As always, he never questions it, never denies her. He doesn’t even hesitate as he gives her another kiss. Hell, Ellie doesn’t even need to open her mouth for Joel to know she wants one more. One for each day without him.
It’s only fair.