Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ellie knew it was a bad idea.

It wasn’t not enough to stop her, but she thought it should count for something, her knowing this. She was not stupid. She made bad fucking decisions, sure, but she wasn’t actually dumb, no matter how much her instructors used to say it, back in the QZ.

They used to get frustrated with her for the same reason she was frustrated with herself; despite her smarts, despite the solid grades and the warnings and the punishments, she always made the bad choice anyway.

So Ellie stared blankly at the collection of stolen food under her bed, and wondered what the fuck was wrong with her.

No answers came.

She slipped her newest contraband under there, to join the tins and jars already gathering dust. It wasn’t not the best hiding place, but she hadn’t found a single loose floorboard in this whole house - a side effect of living with a contractor, she guessed. She could have stolen a hammer, leveraged a floorboard up herself, but the idea had made her feel… bad. She was already living in Joel’s house, contributing nothing. Intentionally damaging the property felt like a step too far.

With a slow breath out, she mentally took inventory: the can of beans; the bag of dried oats; the jar of honey, the first thing she had hidden, and the only item not stolen. Mrs Kappel had gifted it to her, as a reward for weeding her lawn over the summer. Ellie privately thought she was kinda crazy, keeping a hive of stinging insects in her own backyard, but whatever.

Ellie had been tempted to open the honey, captivated by the rich, golden colour of it, but she had eventually decided to save it for later. Just in case of…

Well, anything, really. All the infinite disasters of the future, the many things that can and will go wrong.

Her first theft occurred on kitchen duty.

Ellie wasn’t new to hard work. FEDRA school had a chore rota, and a lot of the stuff there was harder and more dangerous than the tasks kids do in Jackson. She was even allowed to choose what kind of jobs she wanted. All the chores got shuffled around sometimes, depending on what was lacking volunteers that week, but for Ellie it was mostly kitchen duty or shoveling shit in the stables.

She didn’t mind shoveling shit, on account of getting to spend time with the horses and occasionally even feed them, but of the two, kitchen duty definitely smelled a whole lot better. She wasn’t trusted with any actual cooking - a good call, in her opinion - but she collected and washed dishes, and sometimes was allowed to stir something on the stove whilst one of the cooks was busy.

Just before the end of her shift, she had been told to grab some more carrots from the ‘pantry’ - what they call the food storage depot in Jackson - and no one even supervised her as she went inside. Hell, the door wasn’t even locked.

Her first thought when confronted with the broad expanse of tins and jars and fresh vegetables and slabs of meat was one of relief. There was so much. More food than Ellie had even seen in her life. More than she could even imagine.

Except then she started doing the math.

How many people lived in Jackson? A few hundred? More?

If this food was divided up between a few hundred people… suddenly it didn’t look so fast. Suddenly it looked kind of pitiful.

She had an urge to talk to someone, to get some kind of reassurance that there was a plan. She could have asked Maria - but she doubted Maria would tell her anything. It’s not the kind of information that they give out to just anyone. Maria was smart and capable, but anxiety niggled at Ellie anyway. Surely the council had a plan for winter. Jackson had been around for years; they must have survived plenty of winters by now. Right?

Almost without her input, her hand darted out and grabbed a can of beans. She tucked them into the pouch of her hoodie - or Joel’s hoodie, technically. It was huge on her. Hopefully loose enough to hide her theft.

Heart hammering in her chest, she sped through the kitchen and tossed the requested carrots onto the countertop. She didn’t stop, heading straight towards the back door, not daring to say goodbye to anyone and call attention to herself.

Ellie ran. Stupid; it looked suspicious, but she couldn’t make herself slow down, couldn’t breathe until she was in her bedroom, hiding the stolen can under her bed.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

If she had been caught, what then? Food theft was a serious offense in the QZ, where rationing was constant. It was probably the same in Jackson. What if she ended up hanging over a stupid can of beans? What if they noticed something was missing and searched their houses? What if Joel was implicated - it was his house, after all - and he ended up hanging for something he wasn’t even aware of?

Breath coming short, she desperately tried to calm herself, to focus. Options. She needed to think about her options. She needed to think.

She could return it, slide it back on its shelf during her next shift. Of course, that would mean walking around town with stolen contraband in her backpack, and plenty of chances to get caught.

Or she could just… keep it. Nobody ever came into her room except for Joel, and didn’t think he was the kind to snoop when she wasn’t there. It was probably the safer option. Less chance of getting caught. Plus, y’know, it would be nice to know she had something squirreled away, just in case food did get scarce.

She would keep it. Just this once. No one would have to know.

Except it wasn’t just once. It wasn’t just twice. She continued fucking doing it.

So, about the food thing.

Ellie didn’t know why she worried about it so much. She had never been at serious risk of starving, of actually dying from lack of food. This put it pretty low down on her list of things that have almost killed her. She was resourceful and smart. Between hunting and scavenging, Joel and her had done pretty okay out on the road. She could do that again, if she had to.

Except it wasn’t just her and Joel anymore, was it? It was Tommy, and Maria, and Baby Oliver, and their dog Buckley, who was too dumb to go on patrol but loved to nap with his head on Ellie’s lap. It was her friends, Jesse, Cat, and Dina. It was Mrs Kappel, who kept bees and shared the honey; it was some old guy called Eugene, who fixed Ellie’s walkman when it stopped playing; it was Shimmer, and all the other horses who she would sometimes help feed.

It was harder, she knew, to keep a whole community going.

She had seen what could happen, when winter was harsh and food was scarce. What people would resort to, to keep fed. To put meat on the table.

In relation to the rest of her life, her time at Silver Lake-

Her time in that place was short. A blip.

Things hadn’t been so bad in the FEDRA orphanage. Sure, they weren’t getting any extra helpings, but they didn’t routinely starve the kids - not unless you fucked up, and they decided you needed some discipline.

(Needless to say, Ellie fucked up regularly and with vigour.)

For the most part, though, she and the other unfortunates were fed okay. At least until the Fireflies bombed the food storage depot.

After that, their meals seemed to shrink day by day. Rationing, they said. Everyone learned hunger that winter. The tougher kids would steal weaker kids lunches, and Ellie was a prime target. If it wasn’t for Riley, she probably wouldn’t have made it through. She knew a couple of the younger kids didn’t.

There were more bodies to burn that winter than usual.

Not just from starvation, either. Disease - not Cordyceps, but the boring, pre-pandemic kinds - spread like fire that year. Starving people can’t fight that shit off.

Then there were the ones who didn’t die from hunger, from sickness. The ones who were hanged in the streets. Not everyone was willing to let their families starve. Some decided they would rather die trying. And they did die, when FEDRA caught them trying to steal from what was left of the food reserves. They hanged them publicly, to make an example of them. School let out early, so that the kids would be there to watch, to see what happens when you take something that isn’t yours.

Jackson was different from the QZ. Nicer. There hadn’t been any executions in the town square, not in the time she had been here, but she would be stupid to think they would let food theft go unpunished. Maybe they didn’t advertise it here, but that didn’t mean these things didn’t happen.

People died quieter here, but that didn’t mean they didn't die.

Ellie didn’t know where the line was; there were no clear rules, no warnings. As she sat on her bed, stolen food below her, she wondered whether she had already crossed whatever invisible line this town had drawn.

She did inventory.

It wasn’t exactly logical. No one really came into her room, and it wasn’t like the cans and jars were about to grow legs and wander off themselves. This place wasn’t FEDRA; she was not sharing a dorm with a couple of dozen other girls. Nobody had tried to steal her shit in Jackson. Some of the kids at school were wary around her, but most of them seemed more intimidated than malevolent. There were exceptions, of course, but even those were mostly positive exceptions, like Cat, who thought Ellie was ‘badass’, or Jesse, who was so level headed that he was never really scared of anyone.

Still, she checked under her bed and mentally catalogued her contraband. It was routine. She checked it every morning when she woke up, and every night before bed (provided that Joel didn’t linger at her doorway to wish her goodnight) and every time it was just the same as when she left it.

Until the morning it wasn’t.

She woke up, absentmindedly leaned over the side of her bed to check under it, and was confronted with a mess of oats spilling from the torn bag.

“What the fuck,” she yelped, a muddle of alarm and grogginess. She attempted to untangle her legs from her blankets and, inevitably, fell out of bed with a thump.

Instantly, there was the sound of Joel’s heavy footsteps racing up the stairs. “Ellie?”

The door handle began to turn.

“Don’t come in! I, uh- I just got my period,” Ellie lied, heart pounding. “Surprised me, that’s all.”

There was a beat, and then Joel called back, “Do you need anything? Hot water bottle?” The door handle righted itself, finally released.

“Uh, no, I’m good. No cramps yet,” said Ellie. She took a breath, trying to sound less manic. “Thanks, though.”

“Sure.” He cleared his throat. “Yell if you… need anything.”

“Okay.”

There was a pause, and then Joel’s footfalls, retreating back downstairs.

Ellie waited an extra minute, just to be sure, before ducking under the bed to survey the damage.

The tins and jars were all exactly where they should be - she counted just to make sure - but someone had definitely stolen from the oats. Something, she mentally amended, feeling a bit stupid for not realizing straight away. Rats, probably. Thieving bastards chewed right through the bag.

Scowling, she looked around, hoping a better, rat-proof hiding place might appear through sheer force of will. When nothing came to her, she sighed and began transferring her stash to the bottom of her wardrobe. Not the stealthiest location - already, she was imagining all the reasons Joel might have to look in here - but maybe the rats would find it a little harder to get at.

It wasn’t a great solution, but hopefully it would be enough to keep her secret a bit longer. Thank god Joel hadn’t noticed how weird she was acting.

Joel Miller had been called many things in his life. He had been called stupid, dense, a goddamn fool - and hell, maybe they were right about all that - but he was not so stupid that he couldn’t count to 28. Despite how Ellie expected him to have no clue about girl stuff, he does know that her period shouldn’t be yet, considering he was making her hot water up and listening to her complain about that cup gadget from Maria only a scant two weeks ago.

Besides, even if he hadn’t picked up on that, he’s already known that something was off with Ellie for a while now.

At first, she had seemed like she was settling into Jackson surprisingly well. Joel knew it wasn’t as easy for her as she liked to pretend; whenever she left the sanctuary of their house, she projected this image of a confident, untouchable girl, but he saw glimpses past that armor when she returned home. Besides, no one could go through all the shit Ellie had been through and come out unscathed. She still had nightmares. Still had days where she was distant and quiet, or angry and on edge. She didn’t talk about it much - neither did Joel - but he knew it was hard, switching between survival and domesticity.

Despite all that, he had felt hopeful, watching her start school and find friends and create a life here.

Over the last couple of months, that hope had been dwindling. She was trying to hide it, whatever it was, but she wasn't as subtle as she thought.

Only a few days after the obvious lie about her period, as Ellie was rushing through her breakfast, he mentioned, “I think we have mice.”

Ellie stilled. It would have been obvious anyway - she was a fidgety kid in general - but considering how she had been devouring her bowl of oatmeal a second earlier, the abruptness was almost comical. All nonchalant, she said, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he continued, pretending he hadn’t noticed anything amiss. “Been hearing them scratching at night when I’m trying to sleep. Surprised you didn’t notice - you’re always bragging about how your hearing is so much better than mine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s hearing is better than yours, old man. Mrs Kappel’s hearing is better than yours, and she’s like, a thousand years old.”

“She’s seventy at most,” corrected Joel.

“Wow, almost as old as you, then?”

“Brat,” he said, but he was smiling. Ellie looked comfortable again, and he almost wanted to leave it there, but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t like not knowing what’s going on with his kid. ”I’ll see about getting some mouse traps or poison to put out upstairs. If Tommy brings the baby or Buckley over, make sure they don’t go up there, okay? I swear, that dog will eat just about anything, and once Oliver is crawling he won’t be much better.”

It wasn’t as obvious this time, but she seemed… ill at ease. He knew her too well to think she might have been squeamish; they had spent months sleeping rough on forest floors and decrepit buildings, where wildlife encroached on what had once been the domain of man. If she was afraid of mice, it would have been a problem way before now.

If it was Sarah, it would be a different story. Not because Sarah was easily scared, but because she would have hated killing the mice. She would probably have insisted on trying those ‘humane’ traps, where you release them somewhere far away. She was idealistic that way.

Ellie was more practical. As much as she was fond of animals, always fussing over the horses or slipping table scraps to Buckley, he can’t imagine she would have any reservations over killing the pests. After all, she had bullied him into teaching her how to hunt, and the first time she shot a rabbit she had been proud as all hell. It doesn’t make an awful lot of sense why she was tensed up now.

She shrugged. “I’ve got to go,” she said, scraping the last bite of oatmeal before placing her bowl in the sink. “I’ve already been late for school this week.” She raced out the door before Joel could say anything more, leaving him with no answers and even more questions.

Ellie was getting a headache.

It was probably a result of her grinding her jaw - a bad habit that tended to resurface in moments of stress - all morning. Since her chat with Joel.

She had sat through her morning lessons without absorbing much of anything. Whilst that might have been par for the course back with FEDRA, in Jackson she had become more studious than her past self ever would have believed.

Partly it was because the lessons were infinitely more interesting here - not just the basic skills necessary for a soldier, but broad explorations of history, science, and math complicated enough to make her brain buzz. In Jackson, the class read novels and talked about what the words meant, as if their thoughts and opinions were important and worth listening to.

Partly, she tried harder because Joel would give her a particularly fond smile when she aced a test, or when her teachers told him how well she was behaving. Her old instructors would have passed out with shock at hearing ‘well behaved’ and ‘Ellie Williams’ in the same sentence.

Things had changed. Ellie had changed.

She just couldn’t focus that morning. There was an awful feeling in her chest, like she couldn’t breathe quite right. Her brain spun in circles.

What if it was a test?

What if she had failed?

It wasn’t that she really believed it; Joel was a straightforward kind of guy, not the type to play mind games. If he had found her stolen food, he would have said something outright, she was pretty sure. Something that serious? No way he would let it lie.

Unless he was giving her a chance to come clean? Maybe he thought there might be an explanation, one that doesn’t include Ellie committing a fucking hanging offence? If that was the case, he was destined for disappointment.

An elbow in her ribs jolted her back to the present. She suppressed the twitch of her arm that wanted to form a punch, and settled for a friendly shoulder bump instead. “What?”

Dina grinned, unrepentant. “You weren’t listening to me.”

Jesse, standing behind them in the lunchline, interjected, “It’s not Ellie’s fault that you’re too boring to listen to.”

Now it was Jesse’s turn to get an elbow in the ribs, and Ellie couldn’t help but laugh a little at his exaggerated wince, and then laugh harder at the way Cat snorted when she laughed.

She hadn’t expected to find friends like this again, after Riley. She had been her only friend for so long, and the rest of the world so hostile, that it had seemed like Ellie would never have that kind of luck again. Not that it’s the same as it was with Riley, of course. It was hard to come by, that easy understanding of two people who had survived the same bullshit. It was even harder here in Jackson, for someone like Ellie, where some of the kids had never even seen an infected.

What she had here wasn’t quite the same, but it was something. (More than she deserved.)

They finally reached the front of the queue, and started loading up their plates. Breakfast and lunch was a self-serve affair, which suited Ellie just fine. She had never been a fussy eater, but ever since Silver Lake, red meat had been… difficult. Usually, she would load up on carbs, and add a few veggies if Maria or Joel were around, to avoid lectures on balanced diets and threats of scurvy, respectively.

She was about ready to sit down, plate in hand, where she overheard it.

“That Miller girl,” said an unfamiliar voice, tone hushed but still easily audible, “must have been spoiled back where they came from. Takes about enough food for two people, I swear.”

Ellie knew her new friends must have heard it. Hell, she’d bet half the dining hall caught that comment.

It took about everything Ellie had to keep walking forward. Her limbs were tense and unwilling, engulfed in white hot anger, quickly followed by the flush of humiliation.

She carefully placed down her plate - which, now she was looking at it, was probably fuller than most - and sat down at their usual table, eyes fixed low. If she were to look up and see whoever was talking trash about her, she might not be able to stop herself from starting a fight, and she didn’t want to fight, not here. This might have been the longest reprieve from fighting she’d ever had. She didn’t want that to end, didn’t want to find out how mad Joel would be, or what the punishment for assault in Jackson was.

Cat dropped down beside her, and loudly asked, “Did you hear what that bitch said? Do you want me to fight her?”

A shocked laugh bubbled out of Ellie.

“I can’t believe Chloe said that,” Dina said. “Man, I wish Joel had been here for that.”

Blankly, still flushed and half embarrassed, Ellie asked, “Why?”

Dina gave her a look. “Come on. He’s so protective of you. He’d tear her a new one, I bet.”

“Did you hear why she’s not on patrol anymore?” questioned Jesse.

“Ooh, why?” Cat responded, always eager for gossip. “Didn’t she only join up, like, a few months ago?”

A black swoop of hair fell into his eyes as he leaned in. “Yeah, that was long enough to make everyone in her patrol group hate her. I heard that the council banned her from patrolling outside the wall. They were worried her patrol partner would do everyone a favour and come back without her.”

“You’re so full of shit,” said Dina, tossing a slice of tomato at him for emphasis.

“It’s true!” Jesse insisted, dodging the projectile. It landed on the floor beside him. Ellie actively told herself that no, she would not pick it up off the floor and eat it, because that’s not something people do here. “Astrid heard it from Seth.”

“Seth is also full of shit, so now I definitely don’t believe you,” Dina said, before adding for Ellie’s benefit, “He’s only on the council because nobody else wanted the job.”

They were doing this on purpose, Ellie realised. Trying to make her laugh, to help her forget about it.

Distracted by gossip about people she barely knew, Ellie was almost able to let it go. She might have been able to forget about it, to let herself, if it weren’t for the kernel of truth in the comment.

Ellie was not spoiled - really, most of the people in Jackson would never have survived half the shit she’s been through - but maybe she was selfish. Entitled. Why else would she be stealing food from the community that had taken her in, fed and housed her, without asking for anything in return? Why else would she think she deserved that food more than anyone else?

Disgust rose up in her throat, burning like acid. If her friends knew, they wouldn’t be so keen to defend her, so determined to cheer her up.

If they knew, she’d be the one taken outside the walls and left for the infected to deal with.

What was it that Jesse had said?

Maybe they would do everyone a favour, and leave her out there.

When baby Oliver had been born, Ellie was one of the first people to hold him.

They were in what passed for a hospital in Jackson. It looked more like a house than a hospital, and Ellie was thankful that this place did not remind her of the past. None of that ugliness should be brought into this place.

It felt scary. Her heart thrummed in her chest. Facing down infected and FEDRA soldiers, that was one thing, but a newborn baby was a new kind of fear. He was so small, and she didn’t know what to do with him. His head looked so fragile; she could faintly see his pulse through his scalp.

Tommy had shown her how to support him, and smiled at her the whole time, like he didn’t even mind some girl (who wasn’t really family) barging in on the moment.

Like maybe she could be family.

Holding him, the warm weight of him in her arms, the anxiety slowly dripped away, something warm and soft taking its place.

She loved it. Maria told her she could come over any time and hold him. It would give her and Tommy a break, she said, still tired and sweaty from labour, a process Ellie knew little about but must hurt life fuck, considering how loud Maria had screamed.

Babies were kind of cute, but Ellie was never doing that.

When Oliver started crying, she carefully handed him back to Maria for feeding. Ellie and Joel averted their eyes in tandem, despite Maria not seeming embarrassed in the slightest to be breastfeeding in front of them.

Quietly, Ellie had asked, “How long before he starts eating normal food?”

Joel thought for a moment, scratching at his beard. “I think you’re supposed to start introducing other foods at, what was it, six months? But it’s soft foods at first, like blended vegetables.”

“What if there are no vegetables?”

“Well, then you can use fruit instead.”

“So they can’t just eat, like, normal food?” She started thinking about what their food supplies would look like in six months' time, when they were fully in winter; when snow blanketed the world around them; when the ground was frozen and wouldn’t grow anything.

Tommy, expression turning mischievous, questioned, “Why’re you so interested in the specifics of childrearing, all of a sudden? You got something to tell us?” Eyes sparkling, he glanced meaningfully down at her belly.

She snorted, began to tell him how ridiculous the suggestion was, how impossible, but a thought crashed over her-

She turned cold.

It wasn’t so impossible, was it? She had been so close to it being a real possibility, a real risk, and the thought of it, of having something growing inside, something of David-

“I-” She had stood abruptly, almost without intention. Her knees shook. “I want to go.”

Joel looked at her, eyes wide with understanding and sadness. She couldn’t look at him. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Let’s go home.”

Ellie found it in her room.

It was tiny, smaller than she had known mice could be, just the length of her thumb. Maybe it was a baby. It was lying on the rug by her bed. Not dead; she could see it breathing, huge, fast gulps of air, like it couldn’t get enough. Not dead, but dying. Rat poison, she thought.

Her first thought wasn’t a nice one. She didn’t feel sad for the small, hapless creature. Instead, her first thought was, good. That’s what it got for trying to steal her food.

It was a beat later that the guilt of it hit her, and then she felt sick.

The mouse was still breathing.

It was helpless, lying there, surrounded by things so much bigger than itself. It had just been trying to survive.

How long until she was the mouse, the thief, killed for having the audacity to survive?

Palms sweating, she wondered if maybe that’s karma. Why should she get to live, when the mouse doesn’t? The mouse had never hurt anybody, never killed anybody, never done anything wrong in its short life. Ellie had done all of that and more. She had done so many terrible things, and she couldn’t make up for any of it, couldn’t save anyone.

Why was she immune, when so many good people - Riley, Tess, Sam - had all died? Why couldn’t she cure them?

What was it all for?

Tommy didn’t know much about Ellie. Joel wouldn’t talk about anything past rough shapes: she was immune; she was an orphan; she had gone through some heavy shit. Mostly he had learned from observation. These were the things an uncle needed to know. A good pun was a reliable way of making her smile, but a bad pun would earn a full body laugh. She loved space, comic books, and horses. Sometimes she didn’t like being touched.

He also knew she loved Joel more than anything. Tommy couldn’t really credit his observation skills for that one, though - it was written all over her face every time Joel entered the room. She lit up. (He remembered Sarah doing the same.)

Ellie had been pretty cagey around Tommy at first. Feral, almost. She warmed up to him over time, particularly after baby Oliver came into the world. She was always offering to babysit, or to just keep Oliver distracted whilst he and Maria caught up with all the neglected housework.

(Another observation, this one unwanted. The way she would get so tense around Tommy, around men. Joel was the exception; she would happily cling to him like a limpet on a rock, but if anyone else touched her she would freeze up like she was the rock. The day Oliver was born, when Tommy made that stupid, unthinking joke, and the look on her face... he had done his best to forget that look, and all the things it might mean, but the knowledge lingered like a bad taste.)

He knew she’d been through hell, but most days you wouldn’t know it. She seemed like any other teenager - bright, maybe naive, and full to the brim with sarcasm - but sometimes he would catch something beneath all that. A look in her eye that didn’t belong on such a young face.

On one otherwise unremarkable day, with Oliver burbling happily in her lap, she had quietly asked him, “What’s the worst trouble anyone’s been in here?”

He had almost joked, said something like when Maria was having pregnancy cravings and I ate the last pickle, but he stopped himself. Something about her voice, the quiet, almost stilted tilt to it, told him this was a serious question, requiring a serious answer.

“What kind of trouble do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Yknow, like… breaking the rules, committing a crime. A town this big, someone must have done something bad at some point.”

Tommy twisted his wedding ring around his finger, searching for the right words. “I know you encountered some real bad people out on the road,” he said, “but we’re real careful about who we let in. We’ve got good people here in Jackson. I know it can be hard to feel… feel safe, after you go through bad times, but you are safe here, I promise you that.”

Far from soothing Ellie, his words only seemed to frustrate her. She rolled her eyes, shifting impatiently in her seat. Oliver made a disgruntled sound. “Okay, but what if there was someone bad here, someone doing bad stuff? What would be done about it?”

“Ellie,” he said slowly, a sick feeling rising in his stomach, “has something happened? Has someone-”

“No! No, nothing’s happened. This is- This is purely hypothetical.”

Tommy studied her for a moment, unsure if he believed her. “Well, in that hypothetical situation, the council would make a decision on what to do, how to keep our community safe. If someone in Jackson ever hurts you, you just tell me or Joel, and we’ll make sure they can’t hurt you anymore. I mean that. Whatever it takes, okay?”

Ellie nodded, not quite with satisfaction or happiness, but like something had been confirmed to her. A grim sort of resolute.

Later, he would think back to this conversation and realise what he had missed. Later, he would wish he had said the right thing, and prevented all the hurt and fear that came of it.

It was not later yet, but day by day, it was creeping closer.

For a while, Ellie sat on her rug, knees to her chest, the dying mouse only inches away. She watched its little ribs expand and sink.

She should kill it.

A mercy kill, that’s what people call it. Putting the creature out of its suffering. If a death can’t be painless, it should at least be quick. She had to do it; Joel would not be home for a few hours, and she couldn’t leave the thing in pain all that time. She was going to do it. She wanted to do it.

It was just… hard, somehow. To make herself stand up. Her head felt both muddled and very empty at once, and it took a concerted effort to make herself get up.

Ellie felt herself sinking back into her own head. Her hands felt far away.

She scooped the mouse up. It didn’t react, just continued to take deep, desperate breaths. It didn’t try to run, but Ellie knew that it didn’t mean anything, didn’t mean the mouse wasn’t afraid. The creature was just too weak to struggle, too sick to do anything but hope not to die. It was so light in her palm, she could barely feel it.

Ellie took it out into the garden, laid it gently in the scraggly grass. A nice place to die. Better than her bedroom floor, probably, if mice had any preference for pleasant scenery.

She hadn’t spent much time in Joel’s shed, but it wasn’t locked, and his tools were surprisingly well organised. Something about a tool shed in the garden struck her as particularly domestic. She picked up his hammer. It was heavy.

She grabbed a spare grease rag on her way out. It would be cleaner, and it seemed kinder, too; the mouse wouldn’t see death coming. It wouldn’t have to lay there, paralyzed, as the end swings towards it.

Carefully, almost reverential, she laid the rag over the mouse, pretending she was just tucking it into its grassy bed, like Joel often did for her. Even through the fabric, she could see the rise and fall of its tiny chest.

Her palms were sweaty. She wiped them on her jeans, gripped the hammer tight, and swung it through the air a couple times, trying to get a sense of its weight, the motion needed.

Ellie wanted to get it done in one hit.

Her breath hitched as she loomed over it. She never used to be squeamish, never used to be bothered by rat poisoning. In the QZ, being soft was like a terminal illness: nobody could survive in that world with an open heart. She used to wear her callousness like a badge of honour. She had liked being the girl who squashed spiders, who poked at roadkill. Being here, in Jackson, was ruining her.

(Being loved, she feared, would get her killed in the end.)

Something was rising up in her chest, and she knew that if it swallowed her, she wouldn’t be able to go through with this.

Ellie clung to the numbness, and crashed the hammer down.

It didn’t feel like she had expected - didn’t feel like a person. There was no resistance, bones too fragile to push back. It didn’t take nearly as much force as it had to cut through David’s face, his skull, before reaching the soft mulch of his brain.

She didn’t notice how hard she was shaking until the hammer slipped from her fingers. The thud of metal hitting grass was quiet, hardly audible over the rush of blood through her ears. She swallowed reflexively; her mouth watering in the way that often preceded vomit.

“Shut up,” she told herself nonsensically.

Deep breaths. That was what Joel always said when she got like this. Deep breaths, babygirl. There you go. You got it.

A spot of blood had soaked through the rag. Less than she had expected.

She stumbled backward, dropped to her knees. Again, she told herself, “Shut up.” She took another deep breath. Fuck you, Joel, this shit does not work.

Her fingers clawed into the loose earth. It was the same soil they had attempted to grow herbs in that spring, and then had to dig up masses of mint that summer, after it had overtaken the garden. Joel had suggested they try wildflowers next spring. Too cold for anything to grow now - soon the ground would freeze solid, but for now, it was still soft enough to dig her fingers into.

It had been an absent motion, just looking for something to hold onto. Ellie looked down at the dirt, her hands smeared gray, and began to work in earnest, bare fingers scrabbling at the ground. The hole didn’t need to be big, but she wanted it deep enough that the mouse wouldn’t be dug back out and eaten by foxes.

Her fingers went numb with cold, but she barely took notice. She had to get it done. The mouse deserved this much.

(She had buried Henry and Sam. Not Tess, if there was anything left of her. Not Riley. She didn’t even know where her body ended up, if she had been buried, or cremated, or if the Fireflies had just left her to rot in that mall.)

Attempting to avoid the blood, she used the rag to lift the body, and lowered it into the shoddily dug grave.

She said, “Sorry.”

And then she pushed the mound of soil back into place.

Joel came home to find Ellie sitting on the front porch. There was something in her eyes that he didn’t like, a wild, animal look that she usually only got after a bad nightmare. There was dirt under her nails.

Something was wrong.

As he stepped onto the porch, she darted up to him, close enough to touch but not reaching out.

Luckily, he had known her long enough now to translate; he scooped her up into a tight hug. “What’s up, kiddo? Did something happen?”

“No,” Ellie replied, too quick. “Why?”

“You sure? You're not normally willing to hug me out in public these days. Aren't you worried about ruining your street cred?”

She snorted; the sound loosened the knot in his chest. “Jesus, you're old. Street cred. Who even talks like that?”

He released her, but she didn’t move far from his side as he guided her into the house. “Is that why you don't want me to meet your friends? You think I'm gonna embarrass you with my old fashioned lingo?”

“Now you're doing it on purpose.”

“Miss, I’ve got no gosh darn idea what you're yammering about,” Joel said, playing up his accent, because it never failed to make her laugh; today, her reaction was a little more subdued than usual, but he’d take what he could get. “You okay if I go get washed up before dinner?”

“Go,” Ellie said easily. “You stink. Are we eating at home or going out?”

“Well, I’m too tired to cook, so unless you want to give it a try, I’m thinking we go down to the mess hall.”

“Mess hall it is,” she agreed, flopping down on the sofa to wait.

Joel turned to go, but stopped; he had to ask, “How long have you been on greenhouse duty, anyway?”

“Huh?”

“Last you mentioned, you were still switching between the kitchen and the stables.”

Ellie’s brow creased. “Yeah, I still am. Why?”

“Just,” Joel said with a shrug, “you’ve got dirt under your nails. Have you been doing some impromptu gardening out there?”

At his words, Ellie looked down at her hands with alarm. She froze there for a moment, as if surprised herself, before woodenly saying, “I, uh- Mrs Kappel asked me to weed her garden again.”

“Huh,” he said, not believing a word of it. “Well, that was kind of you.”

“Yeah,” said Ellie - she sounded like she didn’t believe herself, either.

Joel rocked on his heels, feeling like he had missed a step, but unsure where exactly it happened. “You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine, old man. Go shower before I starve to death, will you?” Ellie said, sounding almost like her normal self.

Knowing that pushing wouldn’t get him anywhere, he acquiesced, but the niggling feeling didn’t leave him.

A knock at the door.

Ellie wasn’t expecting anyone. Joel was working late; someone’s roof had started leaking, and apparently that qualified as an emergency, because Joel had to leave right after lunch on what was supposed to be his day off. They’d made plans. Apparently it was the right time of year to plant bulbs. It seemed wrong to Ellie - leaving them out there all winter - but Joel insisted they would have flowers in the spring if they did it now.

(Ellie was painfully conscious of the small patch of fresh earth where the mouse was buried. She couldn’t let Joel out there alone, couldn’t risk him digging the body up.)

She had been wound up all morning, worrying about it, only to find out that they wouldn’t be doing any gardening today after all.

It should have been good news. It was good news; she hardly wanted to spend the day out in the cold, drizzly weather. Yet somehow it only unsettled her further. The day was yawning open in front of her, with nowhere to be and nobody to talk to.

She could go out, find Jesse - he was usually happy to hang out, even if he spent too much time talking about his crush on Dina - but she always felt a bit embarrassed to ask for company. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her friends spent time with her out of obligation, or pity.

Ellie had settled for reading the comics she had taken out from the town’s little library, enjoying the novelty of stories totally unknown to her. She had spent most of her life with only a handful of belongings to her name, and even fewer people willing to lend her something of theirs. As she settled into the story, she thought it was shaping up to be a pretty good day.

Then the knock at the door.

For a beat, Ellie thought Joel must be home early, and the excitement that followed was a little embarrassing, even inside her own head. Like a pet dog, patiently waiting at the door for their owner to come back for them. She shook her head, feeling stupid. Joel wouldn’t be knocking on his own front door; he had a key.

Despite having lived there for several months, she always hesitated before opening the front door, like whoever’s there would be surprised and disappointed to find her there, in her own home. Still, there was no Joel to do it for her. She carefully bookmarked her page, uncurled from the sofa, and trudged through the hall.

Keeping her foot wedged behind the door, just like Joel taught her, she eased the door open.

Unfortunately, Joel’s technique was no match for the full force of Buckley when he’s excited.

The dog barreled straight into her, over enthusiastic as ever, and Ellie yelped as she was knocked down. Buckley took the opportunity to lick her face, even as Maria dragged him back by his collar - or tried. He was a big dog. Ellie might have found him intimidating, if he wasn’t so goofy.

Tommy just laughed at their predicament, baby Oliver cuddled up against his chest. “Not a day goes by that the dog doesn’t remind me why he couldn’t be a patrol dog.”

“Because he’s too sweet?” suggested Ellie, crossing her legs under herself and burying her face in Buckley’s soft fur.

“Because he’s too stupid,” Maria corrected, her voice warm enough that it didn’t sound like an insult. She pulled the door shut against the crisp air creeping in.

Ellie put her hands over Buckley’s ears. “Don’t listen to them,” she said, “they’re just jealous.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Tommy said, stepping through the archway into the kitchen. He placed a bag onto the kitchen counter, the only place high enough to keep it mostly safe from Buckely’s voracious appetite. The dog would eat anything that’s not nailed down, and even then he’d give it a try. “If we hurt his feelings, he’d forget about it five seconds later. I’d call him a goldfish, but goldfish have longer memories.”

“Asshole,” said Ellie, despite the way Maria tutted at her for swearing - or maybe because of it.

“Yeah, well, this asshole bought you dinner. You’re welcome.”

With faux somberness, Ellie turned to Buckley and said, “I’m sorry, but my allegiance can easily be bought. I’m not arguing with Tommy when he’s the one with the food.”

Oblivious, Buckley just panted at her, tongue lolling and eyes void of any form of thought. She thought Buckley might be the best dog in the world.

Tommy passed the baby over to Maria and began unloading food from the bag, whilst Ellie eyed the casserole dish and homemade bread rolls with excitement. The food at the mess hall was fine - good, in comparison to what she’d eaten on the road - but Tommy’s cooking was always better.

“Are you gonna fuss over the dog all evening,” Maria asked, “or are you going to come over here and say hello to your cousin?”

Ellie’s head darted up, eyes wide, to scrutinize Tommy, but he didn’t seem to hear it - or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care. Which of course meant he hadn’t heard. There’s no way he would be comfortable with that word being applied to Ellie. Sarah’s death still weighed on him almost as heavily as on Joel; the place of cousin, niece, daughter, would always be reserved for Sarah. Ellie would never dare to intrude on that, and Maria should know better.

She shot the woman a warning glance. “Don’t say that,” she hissed quietly.

“I’m serious. Oliver will get jealous if you’re more interested in Buckley. Come say hello,” Maria continued smoothly, convincingly. For a beat, Ellie wondered if she had misheard - if the word cousin hadn’t been spoken - but she also knew that Maria was an excellent liar when she wanted to be.

“I-” Ellie started, wrongfooted. “Okay. Yeah, of course.”

Maria passed the baby into Ellie’s arms, and she took him with all the gentleness she could muster. He was a little heavier than last time, she thought, and that was only a week or so ago. “Aren’t you just sprouting up?” murmured Ellie. “How’re you doing, huh?”

Oliver blinked up at her trustingly. He didn’t seem at all bothered by his mother passing him off to Ellie. Almost like he thinks she’s family, too.

“How’s school going?” queried Maria. She always asked that - in fact, she was the one who’d pushed Ellie towards school back when they first arrived, when she still felt panicky every time Joel left her line of sight. Ellie had been pissed at the time, but in hindsight it had helped, even if she would never admit it to Maria.

“Fine,” said Ellie, noncommittal.

“Mhmm,” responded Maria with a knowing smile.

Ellie pulled a face at her, which only made Maria look more amused.

Busy fiddling with the oven dial, Tommy chimed in, “Hey, where’s Buckley gotten to? Normally if he hears me in the kitchen, he’s all over me.”

Ellie glanced around, but the dog wasn’t there. She was about to shrug it off, say he must be exploring upstairs, but then a thought struck her. Her heart stopped in her chest. She stood abruptly, ready to run after him, but Oliver was squirming in her arms. “Upstairs- He can’t go upstairs,” Ellie blurted, words rushed and clumsy with fear. “There’s rat poison. Joel put rat poison out up there.”

Tommy’s face paled, but he didn’t miss a beat, already running up the stairs before Ellie was done explaining. Maria was right behind, frantically calling Buckley’s name as they went.

Ellie was helpless to do anything but follow at a slower pace, too afraid of dropping the baby to sprint after them. Her heart beat so hard, Oliver must have felt the thudding through her chest. She felt like she was in a nightmare, wading through as fast as she could, but never fast enough.

Reaching the top of stairs, she could see that Tommy and Maria had both frozen in the doorway of Ellie’s bedroom. Please, Ellie thought, please let him be okay. If Buckley ended up dead because of her - if she had to put him out of his misery like the mouse - she doesn’t know if she could do it.

Tommy and Maria turn to look back at her, wordlessly parting to let her through. Ellie could imagine it so clearly: Buckley laying on her rug, weak and panting and in pain. Her legs shook, but she had to see, she had to know. She stepped between them.

It was not what she imagined.

It was worse.

God help her, it was worse.

Buckley was there, tail wagging, completely unaware of the wreck he’d made of Ellie’s life, of the secret he had revealed. Her wardrobe was flung open, her food stash strewn across the floor. The dried oats were everywhere, dusting the rug like snow; the jar of honey smashed, its golden shards glittering in the light. A few of the tins were still rocking slightly, having just rolled to a stop.

“Ellie,” said Tommy.

She thought she might be sick. She thought she might die on the spot, that her heart might split open with dread.

“Should I-?” Maria asked softly, and without waiting for an answer, she scooped Oliver out of Ellie’s arms, and away to safety. She clearly didn’t trust Ellie with her child anymore.

Ellie was not sure she was breathing.

Again, Tommy said, “Ellie.”

There were no words. She nodded, not quite meeting his eyes, and hoped it said everything she couldn’t. She hoped he knew that she was sorry, and that she understood why he couldn’t allow something like this to stand. She had broken the rules, and she knew the consequences must be coming.

She also knew that she wasn’t going to hang around and wait to find out how bad the consequences would be.

So there was only one thing to be done.

She turned and ran.

Tommy was too fucking slow.

He watched Ellie dart away, and it took him too long to realise he should be running after her.

Too slow. Story of his goddamn life.

Sarah had never been a runner, had never tried to go further than her bedroom after a fight with Joel. If Sarah was storming out of the room, you didn’t have to run after her; you just had to give her the time to calm down.

Ellie wasn’t Sarah.

It was something he knew, had known from the moment he first met her, all feral and cursing and eyes darting around like she was scared. They weren’t the same kid. He should have done after her straight away, but as he skidded out into the street, any glimpse of her was already gone. There was no trail, no direction to follow.

Maria followed him out, Oliver in her arms and Buckley at her heels.

He ran his hands through his hair, a sick feeling settling in his gut at the thought of telling Joel he had lost the kid. That he was too slow all over again.

“She’s probably just run off to find Joel,” suggested Maria.

“Right,” he said, even though he wasn’t nearly as sure as Maria sounded. Sure, the kid clearly adored Joel, but he couldn’t forget the look of sheer terror on her face. She looked desperate, and desperate kids aren’t known for sound decision making. Still, it was their only lead. He started off eastward, towards where he knew Joel was working today, only to stop and add, “Would you go home and put an alert out on the radio? Get everyone looking out for her?”

“Of course,” Maria said. She started back across the street - but Buckley didn’t follow. She whistled sharply, calling out, “C’mon, Buckley,”

Buckley took no notice. He had stopped halfway across the street, nose to the ground. His tail started wagging, and then without warning he took off in the opposite direction to Tommy, steps bouncing and eager.

Tommy’s eyes met Maria’s, and he could see the exact moment that understanding crossed her face. “Ellie,” she said.

Buckley, the dog too stupid for patrolling, barked at the name, as if in agreement.

There was only one reason she would head west, away from the centre of town, away from Joel.

“The gate,” blurted Tommy. “She’s heading for the-”

He turned and ran, fast as he could.

Please, he prayed, let him be fast enough this time.

Truthfully, Ellie should have been better prepared.

She had known this was a possibility, perhaps even a likely outcome. She had been obsessing over the danger she had put herself in, put Joel in, ever since she stole her first can of food. The specifics of their punishments had turned into a morbid guessing game; ideas would swirl around her head at inconvenient moments, like the greatest hits of humanity's worst acts. Maybe they would hang them like FEDRA, or shoot them point blank like Sam and Henry, or chop them up into little pieces like-

So she knew - had known for months - that she might need an escape route, if she didn’t want to end up dead.

Yet she never really imagined escaping. It wasn’t like she wanted them to kill her, but punishment seemed somehow inevitable, inescapable. It was hard to believe there was any other ending for her. At her most optimistic, she only hoped that the punishment might be survivable, and that Joel wouldn’t be implicated as an accomplice.

The whole thing had seemed so hopeless, and that hopelessness had doomed her. She hadn’t prepared, because she saw no point in it, and now she had no supplies, no food, not even a jacket to keep her warm in the growing chill. All she had were the clothes on her back and her mother’s knife in her pocket.

She didn’t even know where Joel was; she hadn’t asked where the leaking roof was. Every cell of her body wanted to search for him, to scour the town until she found him, but she knew it was a stupid idea. Ellie knew she was probably going to die, and the least she could do was not die in front of Joel.

Tommy would keep him safe, she had to believe that. They were brothers. Family. Joel didn’t know about the stealing, didn’t do anything wrong, and with Tommy on his side, the town might even believe him. Her being with him would only incriminate him further.

The best thing Ellie could do was to be gone.

So that was what she would do.

With all the nonchalance she could muster, and a prayer that her panic wouldn’t show, she strode up to the gate as if she was meant to be there.

Technically, kids in Jackson weren’t supposed to go outside the perimeter until they were 16, and even then only with adult supervision, as part of their training. Her only saving grace was that she wasn’t like most kids. Joel had taken her out hiking a few times since coming here - after so long on the road, being cooped up in one house got claustrophobic fast - and they had even gone out with Tommy one time, so he could show off those famed headshots from half a mile off.

There were a couple of people patrolling the gate, and she veered towards the one she at least vaguely knew. Her name was Astrid, and she was only a few years older than Ellie. Jesse and Astrid were friends (Ellie knew he used to have a serious crush on her, before he started taking notice of Dina instead) and Ellie had met her a couple of times in passing.

“Hey,” called out Ellie, her voice high and friendly and generally not like Ellie at all. “Would you mind opening the gate for me? I swear, I’ll just be a second.”

Astrid raised a single blonde eyebrow. “Aren’t you, like, Jesse’s age? You know you’re not allowed out there.”

Jesse was actually a year older than her, but Ellie wasn’t about to correct her. “I go out there all the time,” said Ellie. “Ask anyone.”

“Yeah, with Joel,” Astrid responded, not missing a beat. “Come on, you know the rules.”

Ellie took a steadying breath, despite the sense of urgency in her gut. Tommy could radio the guards any second; she hoped that his delay in doing so was a sign he maybe did care about her a little, that he was giving her a chance to get out, but she couldn’t bank on it. She had to get out now. “Please,” she said, allowing a bit of desperation to colour her tone. “Look, I- Joel thinks he dropped his watch just outside the gate when he was coming back a couple days ago. He can’t come and look for it because there’s a roof emergency or something, but he’s really worried about it. His daughter gave it to him, right before she… y’know.”

On any other day, Ellie would feel bad for using Sarah’s memory like this, for telling a practical stranger something so personal that Joel couldn’t fully speak it all out loud. Today, though, she thought he would understand.

Something shifted in Astrid’s expression, softened; even in a place like Jackson, everyone had lost someone. “If something happens to you, I’ll be the one in trouble,” she said.

“It’s the only thing he has left of her,” Ellie whispered, trying to look sincere. She wasn’t a great actress, but it helped that this part was true.

Astrid pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sigh. “You get one minute. I mean it, okay? Sixty seconds, and then you’re back inside, with or without the watch. Don’t go far. Within sight of the gate.”

“Thank you!” Ellie said fervently, already jogging towards her escape.

Joel had never been overly superstitious.

Back in the old world, in his old job, it was an inconvenient way of thinking. After all, if he had to avoid walking under every ladder on every construction site he’d ever been on, it would have been a real pain in the ass.

Tommy had always been a little superstitious, even if he usually played it off as a joke. He’d always been a believer in grand concepts like destiny. Sarah had been the same; she used to love reading out their horoscopes from her magazines, wisely advising Joel on his future.

Joel had always indulged her, even if he privately thought it was a bunch of horseshit.

If there was one thing he wondered about, one thing he could maybe buy into, it was his dad-sense. That was what Sarah called it, anyway. It’s your superpower. Like your spidey sense, she had said, except without the spider part. He’d always had this gut feeling when his kid was in danger, even if there were miles between them.

Tommy, usually a sucker for that kind of thing, had immediately laughed at the idea. You spend so much time worrying about Sarah, he had countered, that at least some of the time there’ll be an actual reason to. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.

In truth, he knew Tommy had a point, both then and now; Joel worried about Ellie just as much as he had worried about Sarah. Some days, he thought he might even worry about Ellie more. He had never met a kid so predisposed to finding trouble.

So, maybe it was bullshit, just a matter of good timing. Maybe Tommy was right about that one.

It doesn’t change the fact that the second one of the patrol guys rushed onto Marianne’s front lawn, walkie in hand, he knew - deep in his gut, in the marrow of his bones - that something had happened to Ellie.

Joel was still halfway up the ladder, instructing a couple of his construction crew on how to fix the roof tiles, and for a moment he went so lightheaded he thought he might be falling, for all that he could feel the cold metal edge of the steps digging into his palms. Almost voiceless, he asked, “What happened?”

It was too quiet for Lucas, the patrol guy, to possibly hear him from the ground, but he answered anyway: “It’s Ellie.”

Scrambling down the ladder, Joel repeated, “What happened?”

Lucas took a step back. “As far as we know, she’s fine. She can’t have gotten far, and we’ve got people out looking-”

“What the fuck does that mean? Looking where?”

“She’s past the wall,” he said, soft with a sympathy that Joel had no interest in. “She ran. That’s all I know.”

Joel took a beat to swallow that down - swallow the fear rising up his throat - and shouldered past Lucas, walking with fast, purposeful steps.

“Where are you going?” Joel heard the guy ask, rushing to catch up with him.

“Where’d you think?” he said, not slowing down. “I’m going to find my fucking kid.”

As Ellie made it past the gate, she was thinking about the split in her eyebrow.

Whilst Ellie had habitually gotten into trouble back in FEDRA school, she hadn't really done anything too daring. Sure, she snuck out at night, and got into fights that were mostly one sided (and not in the way she would have preferred), but she never did anything that might get her kicked out.

FEDRA school sucked, but at least it was somewhere to be, even if it wasn't a place she could belong.

Her worst ever crime was stealing. Not from the other girls - the bigger kids were always stealing from the ones who couldn't fight back, and none of the adults ever gave a shit about that - but from FEDRA.

It was winter, and the Fireflies had blown up the food storage depot, and everyone was hungry all the time.

Her Walkman had run out of battery.

Normally, she could find a way to trade for some new ones; Ellie was far from popular, but those sorts of rules were generally set aside for trading. Everyone had something they needed, after all.

Except that winter, all anyone needed was more food. Their rations were cut so thin that Ellie knew she couldn't go trading hers for batteries. She missed her music - missed the ability to hide away from the real world for a little while - but the emptiness in her belly was like a physical thing, an animal, growling at the idea of losing out on the little food she had.

Then she was running the mile at six in the morning, the dead January air frigid, the sky still pitch black, and FEDRA had been so kind to provide them with torches, so they could at least see their own feet, and Ellie had thought, I wonder if these use the same kind of batteries, and then-

The stupid part is, she’d thought she would get away with it.

She had handed back the torch, stolen batteries in her pocket, and the FEDRA officer had immediately noticed that the torch was lighter than it should be, had flicked open the battery compartment, and then-

Then her eyebrow would never be whole again.

It had been humiliating - not just the pain of it, but being caught so quickly.

So there was something familiar about the hot flush of shame she felt as she heard the thud of footsteps behind her, not even a hundred yards out the gate. She was going to be caught before she could even get anywhere. She was running, and the rapid footfalls of the man behind her told her she was being chased. She ran through the woods-

(Through the snow, through the town of cannibals, with David chasing, cleaver in hand, ready to chop her up into tiny little-)

Fear lanced through her, and she ran, ran faster than she ever had before, faster than the racing of her heart.

Not fast enough.

The footsteps were just behind her, close enough to reach out and grab her-

Ellie span, knife out, teeth bared.

Tommy.

It was Tommy, hands out in front of him, empty. Buckley was by his side. They were both breathing heavily, like they had run all the way here from Joel’s house - maybe they had. Buckley didn’t run to greet her like he usually would, like he understood that something was wrong, like he didn’t know if he was allowed.

Tommy didn’t come any closer. He was still bigger and stronger than her, even if he was trying not to look like a threat. She had seen this act before. Her hand squeezed her knife tighter.

“Hey, now, there’s no need for that,” Tommy said, with that accent just like Joel’s. It made her want to soften, but Tommy wasn’t her family, not really. He was part of Jackson. His wife was on the council. He was here to enforce the rules.

“Get back,” she warned him, blade pointing at him, as if she might-

As if she could-

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t hurt Tommy. She had killed people, and she could do it again, but not to Tommy. If she was going to die, then Joel was going to need him. Joel needed people, needed family, and if Ellie won’t be there to look after him, then Tommy had to. If she must leave, she wouldn’t leave Joel alone.

He must have read it in her face, in the slight lowering of the blade, because he took another step forward, as he wasn’t scared of her in the slightest, as if she didn’t even register as a threat. Soft, he said, “Come on, hand it over.”

With a shaking hand, she flipped the knife closed, and tossed over the only thing of her mother she’d ever had. She wouldn't need it anymore.

“You had us all real worried,” Tommy chided, so fucking calm she wanted to scream. “Now, are you gonna come back with me?”

She took a step back, putting a little more distance between them.

It seemed inevitable that she would end up back there - that she would face whatever punishment the council decided she deserved - but she couldn’t bear the thought of giving up. After everything Joel had done to keep her alive, after all the people who died because of her, it felt wrong to just… accept it.

She could run. Ellie knew she wasn’t as fast as Tommy, but it was a chance, even if it was a small one. She didn’t need to get far. The woods were so dense, and the sky was rapidly losing light. If she could shake him off for just a little while, buy some time, then…

Except Buckley was with him, and dumb as the dog was, his nose worked just fine. He would follow her trail, hunt her down, not realising he was condemning her by doing so.

A buzz of static from the radio on Tommy’s hip startled Ellie so badly that she thought her heart might just stop dead. She took a ragged breath, missing most of what the voice was saying, only catching “-got Joel at the gate and he’s trying to run out there.”

Tommy sighed. “Don’t let him through,” he instructed. “I’ve got Ellie, we’ll be back in a minute.”

Fuck, thought Ellie, dizzy with panic. They’ve got Joel. They’ve got him, and they won’t let him go. Betrayal lanced through her, bitter and stinging. She had trusted that Tommy would keep Joel safe, but he wasn’t showing even the slightest concern for his brother. What was the point of family, if they wouldn’t even try to save you?

Turning back to Ellie, demeanor amiable as ever, Tommy said, “Well what do you say?”

Nothing, is what she said. She didn’t think she could get a single word out, with the way her throat was closing over, so tight it hurt. She couldn’t believe how easy this seemed for him.

As if sensing her thought, he ran his hands down his face, his smile faltering. He looked tired. “I swear, I’ll hogtie you and drag you home if I gotta. Please, Ellie.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He really wasn’t letting her go. She hadn’t realised until that moment that she was still hoping, on some level, that Tommy might help her, might have a plan, or if nothing else might give her a chance to run.

“Okay,” she choked out. “Okay, I’m- I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you,” he said, as if she were doing him a favour - as if he hadn’t been threatening her thirty seconds previously. He gestured her over, and she numbly walked closer until she was at his side. She half expected him to grab her, but didn't, just let her lead the way back to the gate. Buckley took her other side, licking her hand and trying to catch her attention, but she could barely feel it; her hands didn’t feel like they belonged to her.

The gate was so close. There was so little time.

“What I did,” she said, searching for the right words, the ones that might make this better. “It wasn’t- It wasn’t because of Joel, or anyone else. It was just me. I just- I made a bad decision, I know that. I’m really sorry.”

“I get it, kid,” said Tommy. “You just save that apology for Joel. He’s going to be worried as all hell.”

So, on the plus side, Tommy seemed to think she would get the chance to see Joel again. Of course, it could mean they would get a chance for her to apologise as they’re strung up next to each other, but it meant he wasn’t dead yet. She could still save him.

(Save him from herself. From her own stupid, reckless actions.)

The gate opened for them, and Tommy put a hand on her shoulder as she froze, as if warning her not to run.

She forced herself to step forward.

A small crowd was gathered just inside. She scanned the faces. There were a few patrollers, Astrid included, and a couple of guys who usually worked with Joel, and Maria, holding baby Oliver, and-

Joel.

He was running towards her before she had even registered him, and then she was running too, colliding into him so hard she almost bounced off him. He grabbed her, held her tight, her feet almost leaving the ground as he squeezed her. For a moment, her heart settled into rhythm. There was no safer place in the world than the space that Joel made for her.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

His only response was to hold her tighter.

Then there were footsteps approaching, and she remembered that it was him she was supposed to protect, not the other way around. She had put him in this situation, and she would be the one to get him out of it.

Ellie whirled around, arms outstretched as if her tiny frame could block Joel from view. She said, “Don’t hurt him.”

She didn’t expect anyone to listen, not really. She just knew she had to try.

That’s why Ellie was so shocked when everyone stopped moving. Everything just halted. Maybe the earth had stopped spinning on its axis; maybe her heart had stopped dead in her chest.

Everyone was looking at her, and she could read pity on every face, but she knew that wasn’t enough. They would pity her as they killed her; in Ellie’s experience, pity had done fuck all for her.

It was Maria who broke the silence, stepping closer with Oliver cradled to her chest. Voice full of authority, she declared, “We don’t use pain as punishment here.”

She said it like it should be a relief to Ellie, to know that it would be quick, as if it’s the pain of dying that scared her. “I’m-” she started, only for her voice to break, to fail her. She swallowed painfully, and began again. “I’m not going to fight. I’ll, y’know, go quietly. I was- I’m supposed to be dead anyway. Just- not Joel. Please. He didn’t know, he had nothing to do with-”

“What,” interrupted Joel, voice sounding angry in the way it got when he was panicking, “does that mean? What do you mean, ‘supposed to be dead’?” He shifted, like he was trying to get in front of her, and Ellie had to dart forward again to stay between him and the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry,” said Ellie, not addressing Joel because he could be pissed at her for as long as he wanted. All that mattered was that he lived to be pissed off for a long, long time. So she directed her pleas at Tommy and Maria and anyone else who she thought might have some sway on the matter. “I shouldn’t have done it, I know that, but Joel really had no idea I was stealing-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Tommy said loudly, and her lungs stopped working, because was it already over? Had she used up her only chance to be heard? He turned away from her, waving a hand at the crowd gathered around them. “Everyone, move. Give us some room here, would you? This is a family matter, ‘don’t need an audience.”

Ellie almost laughed at the choice of words, hysteria bubbling up in her chest, buzzing behind her teeth. Family. As if she was part of that. As if he hadn’t just hunted her down in the woods and threatened to hogtie her.

Under Tommy’s orders, the group dispersed. It should calm her, but she only felt more anxious. She didn’t understand. Tactically, it made no sense to send away their back up. Unless he was trying to- to lure her into a false sense of security? Like when David sent his back up away in the woods-

Then Maria, very serious, told her, “Ellie, you’re safe, okay? No one’s going to hurt you.”

This time, Ellie did laugh. It poured out of her like acid, scorching her throat and gathering tears in her eyes. “Safe,” she echoed, the word distorted and shaky, not like a real word at all. “What the fuck does that mean, safe.” She tried to clamp down on the laughter, because Tommy and Maria were looking at her like maybe she had gone crazy - and fuck, maybe she had. She felt like she had lost it. Safe. She didn’t understand what was happening, or what was supposed to happen next. They had gone off script. Nothing made sense.

A hand gripped her shoulder, and a yelp caught in her throat, but it was only Joel, kneeling down at her side, even though she knew he had old man knees which creaked when he bent them. “Ellie,” he said, “Babygirl, I need you to breathe for me, okay? I’m right here, I’m not leaving. Just breathe.”

She was breathing, she thought, but not properly. It was just little gulps of air that seemed to stick in her throat, but she couldn’t get her lungs to slow down enough to pull air in. She didn’t think she was laughing any more.

“I’ve got you,” Joel said, “I’ve got you.”

Ellie let herself melt into him, just a little, because she was a bit lightheaded, and she didn’t know where the ground was, but she knew Joel would keep her from floating away. She tried to breathe. Tried. “Sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay,” Joel began, but Ellie interrupted.

“No, it’s not- it’s not okay. I know it’s not. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“What for?” asked Maria, and Ellie startled a little, like she had forgotten there was anyone there but Joel.

“For-” Ellie said, only to stop, frowning, looking for the trap. Was she fishing for a confession?

Tommy knelt down, like he was mimicking Joel. Buckley immediately tried to lick his face, seeing an opportunity for attention, but Tommy just absently ruffled his fur, not taking his eyes off Ellie. “For running away?” he suggested.

“No,” she said, confused.

“Then what for?” questioned Joel, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“For- For stealing. Food. I- They found it. In my room. I stole food.” The words tasted like death.

There was a little pause, just long enough for Ellie’s breathing to pick up again. Tommy and Maria shared this long look, and Ellie didn’t know what it meant, and she couldn’t see Joel’s face from where she was leaning into his chest, so she took a step back. Joel shifted, as if to follow, but she had to- she needed to be able to see. To know what he was thinking.

“What do you think a reasonable punishment would be,” asked Maria, clear and slow, the tone that Tommy affectionately described as the lawyer voice, “for stealing some food?”

Suspicious, Ellie bit back, “Is this a joke?”

“Humour me.”

Ellie looked to Joel, hoping he might cut in, but he was just looking at her, like he was wondering what her answer might be. She grit her teeth, and turned back to Maria. “Well, in FEDRA, stealing from the food supply was a hanging offence. They used to, uh, take us orphans out to watch the show.”

No one said anything. They just looked at each other, like they were having a silent conversation that she wasn’t privy to.

To cut the silence, she added, “You guys don’t go for the whole public spectacle thing, which, y’know, is nice. I mean, I don’t know, some people like that kind of thing. Guess it’s, uh, personal preference.”

“Ellie,” said Joel, but now that she had started rambling, she couldn’t seem to stop.

“I mean, it kind of makes it easier to know the rules,” Ellie said. “Like, it makes it clear where the line is, y’know? But I’d rather- if that’s what happens, I don’t- I don’t want Joel to see-”

“I’m sorry.”

Joel’s words were so unexpected, so out of left field, that Ellie stopped in her tracks, blinking at him for a long moment, trying to parse the meaning of his nonsensical statement.

“I messed up here,” Joel continued, eyes shifting around all guilty, like he was the one who broke the rules.

“Uh. No,” Ellie said slowly, “I-”

“Kid, I need you to listen to me. No one is going to hurt you. If anyone tried,” he said firmly, “I would kill them.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t- Come on, you’re not going to kill Tommy.”

“Now, maybe I’m misunderstanding something here,” Tommy said, squinting at Ellie with disbelief, “but are you suggesting that Maria and I are gonna- what, hang you in the town square?”

Hotly, Ellie pointed out, “You literally threatened to tie me up and drag me.”

Abruptly, Joel stood to his full height, and barked out, “You what?”

“What? No, I-” Tommy cut himself off, eyes going wide. “Jesus fucking Christ. I didn’t- I was joking. You gotta know I wouldn’t do that, kid.”

Ellie glared at him. How the fuck would she know what Tommy would or wouldn’t do? It’s not like anyone ever explained to her what the rules are.

“Okay. Okay,” said Joel. He dragged a hand over his face, nodded to himself. “Alright, Ellie, let’s go home.”

Ellie looked to Maria and Tommy, sure that they would object, but they just murmured in agreement, like Ellie wasn’t in their custody. Like all of this could just be forgotten about.

“Alright, take care of her, yeah?” said Tommy.

“Always,” said Joel.

Joel started towards home, but Ellie grabbed him by his sleeve, yanking him back. He looked back, eyebrows raised.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always serious,” deadpanned Joel, beckoning her forward.

She shut her eyes tightly and took a slow breath, hoping that the world would make sense when she opened them. “Joel.” When she opened her eyes, it was to Joel looking at her with a face so soft she had a sudden urge to punch him. “Joel.”

“Ellie. Please,” he said.

She looked back at Tommy and Maria, feeling their eyes on her back like a physical weight. They just gave her weird, strained smiles. Nothing was making sense.

They couldn’t just-

Just not punish her?

That wasn’t how the world worked. People didn’t just let you fuck up, there were always consequences, and then people in charge chose those consequences.

She turned towards home.

“Wait,” Tommy called after them, and for a beat, the world made sense again. It was a trap, a trick; now they would take her away. But when she turned to him, he was standing there with her knife, still flipped closed, held out in his palm. An offering.

She eyed him, but he didn’t move, just stood there waiting. Ellie darted forward and snatched the knife. Tommy didn’t flinch. He nodded at her, and Ellie ventured to nod back before turning to catch up with Joel.

They didn’t talk as they walked the familiar route home. Joel strolled along like it was any other day, like he wasn’t worried in the slightest.

It was surreal, coming back home, when she had thought she wouldn’t see the place again.

Ellie shivered as she stepped over the threshold. She hadn’t realised how cold she had gotten, out in the woods without so much as a jacket. Her fingers were half numb. Joel, as if reading her mind, grabbed the blanket slung across the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders.

She was shaking, but not just from the cold. Adrenaline crash, she thought foggily. Her legs felt weak and insubstantial; she half collapsed onto the couch. She still felt wired and twitchy, but too exhausted to do anything about it.

Joel sat next to her, close enough to feel the warmth of him through the blanket. After a second of hesitation, she closed the gap, resting her head on the line of his shoulder.

“You okay, kiddo?” Joel asked.

She admitted, “Tired.”

“Think you can stay awake a bit longer?”

“I’m not falling asleep, asshole,” Ellie protested, although her eyes did feel heavy as fuck, and Joel was making for an excellent pillow.

“Sure, sure,” said Joel. “You can go up to bed soon, but I think we have to have a talk first.”

Ellie said, “Don’t wanna.” She knew she was being petulant, childish. Normally she would be embarrassed, but something about the unexpected reprieve made her want to just… be a kid for a minute. She was tired of worrying about everything. She wanted to let Joel be the adult, even if just for tonight.

“I know,” Joel said patiently, “but it’s important. I gotta tell you… I need to- to apologise.”

Scrunching up her face, Ellie asked, “What for?”

“When we got here, you seemed to settle in so well. I never really considered how you- well, you’ve got no context.”

Ellie pulled away, looked askance at him. She had a suspicion she was being patronised. Suddenly, being treated like a kid didn’t seem so appealing. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means…” he trailed off, brow crinkled. Ellie couldn’t tell what he was thinking; it wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed. “I forget, sometimes, that you’ve never lived somewhere safe before.”

Safe. That goddamn word again.

He continued, “I mean, I know you grew up in the QZ, but I guess I didn’t think about… I mean, you’d have no way of knowing that stuff isn’t normal.”

“What isn’t normal?”

“The fucking-” He stopped, shook his head, a bitter expression clouding over his face. “Military dictatorship. Rationing, and public executions, and all that awful shit. It wasn’t always like that, before.”

“You mean back in Jurassic period, when you were born?” Ellie joked, uncomfortable with how fucking sincere Joel was being.

He didn’t so much as roll his eyes at her jab, just smiled at her. “Exactly. All us dinosaurs come here and it's like- okay, it's not exactly like it was before, but it's familiar. We have context for it. But you, you've never lived somewhere like this before. I should have taken the time to explain that you're safe here.”

“Come on, Joel,” said Ellie, sharp. “I’m not a kid. I don’t need all that safe bullshit.”

She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him - anger, or brutal honesty, something she could understand - but he just looked sad. “I’m telling you the truth,” he said, excessive eye contact and everything. “Look, okay, maybe nobody is ever really safe - maybe one day raiders will break in here, or infected, or something bad like that - but this is about as safe as anyone can be. You’re not going to be hanged for stealing, or anything else, for that matter. You’re safe.”

Tonelessly, Ellie said, “Right.”

Joel scrubbed a hand over his face, up through his hair. “I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but I’ll tell you every day if I have to. You’re safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It’s not fair, she thought, a feeling like betrayal in her gut. He shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep.

“Ellie?” he said.

He couldn’t keep her safe before. She had to fight her way out of that burning cabin by herself. She had to kill David.

She was by herself then. Not because Joel didn’t care, but because he had already gotten himself halfway dead trying to protect her before that. That was the crux of the issue. She didn’t want him to die for her, she never had. It scared her, how determined he was to put himself between Ellie and the most deadly parts of living.

Ellie got to her feet, buzzing with tension, fatigue forgotten. “Come on,” she said, before striding up the stairs, back to the scene of the crime.

Her wardrobe door was still hanging open, her stash of food exposed for all to see. Joel trailed in behind her, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed. She grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him in, so that he was standing directly in front of the mess.

She jabbed a finger at the evidence. “Look.”

“...I’m looking,” Joel said mildly.

“I stole this,” stated Ellie. “Do you understand? I stole all of this.”

“I hear you.”

Ellie waited for the follow up, the judgement, admonishment. He just kept looking at her, so fucking patient it made her teeth ache.

“What is wrong with you? I’m showing you, and it’s like you’re- you’re fucking blind. What’s it going to take for you to realise-?”

“Realise what?”

“I’m a bad kid.” She stopped short, breathless, suddenly afraid that he would see, and that once Joel saw her as she was, he wouldn’t want to keep her anymore.

He shouldn’t want her, but she wanted him to care about her anyway.

Joel took a sharp breath, eyes fiery, and Ellie thought finally, finally - but he seemed to reign himself in at the last second, letting out a long breath as he stared down at Ellie’s stolen goods.

Inexplicably, he crouched down, his old man knees groaning.

Startled, she said, “What are you-?”

He shot her a look, something familiar from their time out on the road; the one that asks for quiet. She acquiesced, even though it made her nervous, his sudden interest in the food.

With a careful hand, he plucked an item from the middle of the pile. It was the jar of honey - or, what was left of it, the bottom shattered and sticky. He inspected it for a moment, before turning it around so that she could read the note written on the lid: thank you, Ellie! “Now,” he said, “it seems to me that either your handwriting has gotten real fancy now you’re going to school, or someone gave this to you.”

Puzzled by the turn of the conversation, Ellie muttered, “Yeah, that one I got from Mrs Kappel for helping with her garden.”

“So it’s not all stolen?” Joel questioned, one eyebrow cocked.

She shrugged. “All of it except for that one, I guess.”

Joel hummed, and went back to picking through the food. “What’s this one doing here?” he asked, pulling out a bag of coffee. “You still complain about the smell every time I make a pot.”

Ellie made a grab at the bag, but Joel’s reflexes hadn’t dulled since they were on the road. He pulled back out of range. Ellie flushed. Despite showing him the food stash herself, she was finding herself wishing he hadn’t seen it - or, at least, that he had seen what she was trying to show him.

He didn’t see an external symbol of her internal failures, her inability to fit into this normal life. She didn’t know what Joel was seeing. She felt… weird. Exposed.

“Is this what it was all about?” Joel wondered. It took a beat for Ellie to recognise his tone as teasing. “You just didn’t want to admit that coffee is good, huh? Didn’t want to admit I’m right?”

“Shut up,” Ellie mumbled, crossing her arms. “Still gross.”

Joel huffed an almost laugh. He put the coffee down, and started examining the jars that had managed to remain in the wardrobe, avoiding Buckley’s overexcited exploration. He didn’t seem to be in any rush, which only made Ellie feel more impatient.

“Joel, come on,” she said, a touch whiny. “Can we just- leave it? I’m tired.”

He doesn’t reply. He also didn’t continue to sort through the food stash. Joel had paused, a single little jar held delicately in his large hands. He cleared his throat, but still didn’t speak.

Anxiety crept up her spine. “Joel?”

“You know what I see, looking at all this?”

Ellie’s throat felt tight. She barely managed to get a word out. “What?”

He finally looked up at her, expression complicated, hard to read. “I see a jar of honey you got for helping an old lady; I see a bag of coffee beans that you hate; and I see a jar of baby food that you have no personal need for. I see a kid who’s been through a lot of bad shit, and still cares enough about the people around her that she’s saving up baby food, just to make sure her cousin never has to go hungry. You’re a good kid, Ellie. I’m- I’m real lucky to have a kid like you.”

Ellie blinked at him.

He was talking about her like she wasn’t a fuck up. He was talking about her like- like they were a real family.

She wasn’t sure when, but sometime during his little speech, she had started crying.

“Come here,” Joel said, and that’s all the invitation she needed to launch herself into his arms. She trusted him to catch her.

Face hidden against his shoulder, Ellie mumbled, “So I’m… not in trouble? With you, or Tommy, or anyone?”

“Not in trouble,” he assured her. “I would appreciate you just telling me what’s wrong next time, and less sneaking out of the walls, but no, you’re not in trouble. Just… honesty from now on, okay?”

“Okay,” Ellie agreed, pulling back to wipe at her face. She tried to let herself trust this. Maybe he really did want her there, even though she was fucked up and stole things and didn’t know how to talk about her feelings. She proffered a pinky finger. “From now on, we try to be honest with each other. No more secrets. Deal?”

A shadow passed over his face as Joel stared down at her offered finger. A look in his eyes, like something was weighing heavily on him, like he was feeling guilty.

She saw it, but-

She didn’t want to see it. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him.

So Ellie didn’t call him on it, and pretended to be a little more clueless than she was.

A beat too late, he wrapped his pinky around hers. “Deal,” he said.

Maybe he'd lied to her before - the day they returned to Jackson, when he swore it was the truth - but maybe things would be different. Maybe she could put her faith in Joel.

She gave his finger a little shake, and hoped.